This is a seriously overdue post. I'm not sure what the delay for it is, but I have finally decided to write it.
We have been through a pretty tough season. We welcomed our much awaited daughter into the world with much excitement, only to have those dreams snubbed out in an instant. Instead our sweet angel daughter was sent home with us "to die".
I started this blog because I was hurting. Alot. Those early dark days were the loneliest of my life, and at one stage, I didn't think I'd make it. But then, the most amazing thing happened. Firstly, putting pen to paper started my healing. It helped me step back from the chaos, and see it from a distance. When you're in the thick of it, I think stepping back to look really does help. And then secondly, in my reaching out, to seemingly no-one, I got found. Found by a wonderful community of people, who have loved me and my daughter, and have kept me from sinking. Some of you I know, many I have never even met. You have shared my highs, and wept in my lows. And I am just. So. Grateful.
Thank you for praying for us. Thank you for loving my beautiful little girl. Thank you for not judging me when I lashed out. Thank you for words of encouragement. Thank you for sharing my pain, and for sometimes sharing yours.
When you go through something like this, it's amazing what surprises lie around the corner. There were many people, strangers and friends alike who surprised me. But I know there are a few unnamed heroes in our journey, I have heard of your warrior spirits- who prayed and supported us silently in the background. Some of you I will never even know. To you: thank you. Your faithfulness in the small things has not gone unnoticed. Not by me. To those who loved us through this time in our life: there were days you picked me up when I couldn't pick myself up- even if you don't know it.
Now that we're out of the thick of it, so to speak, it's strange looking back and seeing so much that I couldn't see whilst in it. Some good. Some bad. But what reigns true more than anything else, is two things:
We were loved and supported by strangers and friends, both far and wide. I certainly did not deserve all that goodness. But I am so grateful. It was good to know in those lonely days that you were out there. Somewhere.
But the other thing I can see, is how impossible it wouldve been to have survived this without the grace, love and support of my Heavenly Father. I am still angry. Perhaps now more than while Miks was alive. Because while she is dancing in Heaven, I am still picking up the pieces. I am still feeling sore. Deserted. Forgotten. Broken. And now, more than ever, I am trying to grapple with why my loving Father would let me go through this? Why He hasn't healed me completely? And yet. I know that He was there during our journey. And I know He continues to be there, even though some days I don't want to let Him in. Even though His silence breaks me to my core. Even though this emptiness in my soul makes me feel like He has forgotten me. Yet I am trying to still cling. Somehow. He took us through. Surely He will continue to do so? For now, I say Thank you to Him too though: Thank You Lord that You carried me even though I didn't always feel it. Thank You that You held me, even when I felt alone. Thank you that You loved me even though I'm not very loveable. I know I don't deserve it. Please know I am trying. Please don't give up on me. And I promise to not give up on You either, though sometimes I feel it would be easier. Thank You for being my rock when my world was shaken.
As we tread these murky waters without my darling girl....as we learn a new way of life... My prayer is that You won't forget me... And that perhaps one day You'll give me back my wings and my voice, that I may soar.
And to all you wonderful warriors: there really aren't words that sufficiently convey my gratitude. But just know that every prayer, and every whispered word lifted up for me and my family... Each one is embedded deep in my soul. I hope I can "pay it forward". May you be blessed as you have blessed my family.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Post my first Christmas without you
Chiristmas, I've always loved Christmas. It's such a happy time. A time of family, of celebration. We were at home this Christmas and my folks were with us. And. Well. It was good to be with family, and we had fun. But boy, I felt your absence.
There's this huge gaping hole in my heart that cannot be filled. That place that was made only for you. I can't believe sometimes how someone so small, as you were, could have been so LARGE in our lives. It's a strange feeling: feeling so utterly fulfilled, and so grateful and happy with the things that I have and our lives in general (my three healthy, wonderful boys, my gem of a husband, our home, our health etc); and yet feeling so terribly lost, so dreadfully empty, and somehow, sometimes desperately alone.
I remember when my father in law died, my mother in law spoke of how after his funeral, she had to sit in this lonely home watching all the flowers she had been given, whither and die; and how, at that point, the calls stopped coming, the visitors stopped popping over; and yet, her grief hadn't suddenly ended. Perhaps at that point, it's where some of the grief actually begins. I think, because of the nature of our journey, in that we actually grieved you when you were born, I understand this conundrum: that grief begins somewhere where concern ends. I look back now, and I realize how lonely those days were, how hard they were.
Don't get me wrong, this is no pity party. There are many who understand. Other mums who have lost their babies, and, after all the hype of your death had died down, have phoned me, or messaged me to see how I am. They know. And we're so busy, and happy wih the boys, and our lives, that I am so very happyrather than drowning in a pit of despair (I'm one of the "lucky" ones though).
But, well, Christmas hurt alot. And the past few weeks have dug up all the regret, the anger and the disappointment at that which I have lost. That which was taken from me. That which can never be repaired or given back. And sometimes, seeing everyone's joy and happiness is enough to make me want to scream. Sometimes I just want to close myself off from the world. Give up. Roll into a ball and stay there forever. The hurt is too much. I mean, my daughter died for goodness sake! And sometimes I just want somebody to see that, but no one ever does. The curse of being strong? That people tend to forget about you.
I miss you, Mikayla. It's been a little over 3 1/2 months since you passed away. I think that your death will somehow haunt me forever. It all happened so quickly. I know that I got to say everything I wanted to say, and I know that it was ordained to happen as I had prayed it would. And yet, I cant help wondering. In the last month or so, you had changed so much. What would it have been like if you were still with us now? Are you happy in Heaven? Do you miss me the way I miss you?
How do I fill this hole, in my heart, Miks? I dunno. I guess, sometimes, I just wonder why everyone else seems to be rescued, but I don't. *sigh*
Ok, I think that's enough rambling. I seriously sound like a spoilt little brat. I really do have so much to be grateful for. And grateful I am. Sad. Yet happy. Empty. Yet fulfilled. Lonely. Yet busy and full of life.
Life is good. But I will always miss you, my darling daughter. Always. And that place where you belong, will always be empty, like a canyon in my heart.
There's this huge gaping hole in my heart that cannot be filled. That place that was made only for you. I can't believe sometimes how someone so small, as you were, could have been so LARGE in our lives. It's a strange feeling: feeling so utterly fulfilled, and so grateful and happy with the things that I have and our lives in general (my three healthy, wonderful boys, my gem of a husband, our home, our health etc); and yet feeling so terribly lost, so dreadfully empty, and somehow, sometimes desperately alone.
I remember when my father in law died, my mother in law spoke of how after his funeral, she had to sit in this lonely home watching all the flowers she had been given, whither and die; and how, at that point, the calls stopped coming, the visitors stopped popping over; and yet, her grief hadn't suddenly ended. Perhaps at that point, it's where some of the grief actually begins. I think, because of the nature of our journey, in that we actually grieved you when you were born, I understand this conundrum: that grief begins somewhere where concern ends. I look back now, and I realize how lonely those days were, how hard they were.
Don't get me wrong, this is no pity party. There are many who understand. Other mums who have lost their babies, and, after all the hype of your death had died down, have phoned me, or messaged me to see how I am. They know. And we're so busy, and happy wih the boys, and our lives, that I am so very happyrather than drowning in a pit of despair (I'm one of the "lucky" ones though).
But, well, Christmas hurt alot. And the past few weeks have dug up all the regret, the anger and the disappointment at that which I have lost. That which was taken from me. That which can never be repaired or given back. And sometimes, seeing everyone's joy and happiness is enough to make me want to scream. Sometimes I just want to close myself off from the world. Give up. Roll into a ball and stay there forever. The hurt is too much. I mean, my daughter died for goodness sake! And sometimes I just want somebody to see that, but no one ever does. The curse of being strong? That people tend to forget about you.
I miss you, Mikayla. It's been a little over 3 1/2 months since you passed away. I think that your death will somehow haunt me forever. It all happened so quickly. I know that I got to say everything I wanted to say, and I know that it was ordained to happen as I had prayed it would. And yet, I cant help wondering. In the last month or so, you had changed so much. What would it have been like if you were still with us now? Are you happy in Heaven? Do you miss me the way I miss you?
How do I fill this hole, in my heart, Miks? I dunno. I guess, sometimes, I just wonder why everyone else seems to be rescued, but I don't. *sigh*
Ok, I think that's enough rambling. I seriously sound like a spoilt little brat. I really do have so much to be grateful for. And grateful I am. Sad. Yet happy. Empty. Yet fulfilled. Lonely. Yet busy and full of life.
Life is good. But I will always miss you, my darling daughter. Always. And that place where you belong, will always be empty, like a canyon in my heart.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
The Pursuit of Perfection
In the eyes of the world, Miks, you were not perfect. You held none of the glitz and glamour that so many spend their entire lives trying to attain. You did not live a "full life" (read: until you were old and grey). You had nothing fancy to offer. You were, some people would say, a simpleton. Just nothing special at all.
Another T18 mommy and friend, had some awful comments posted on her videos of her sweet boy, who's over 2 years old. Really, in a nutshell, they questioned the value of his life, and questioned the parents love for him, because, in their words, the parents were being cruel to this little boy.
And it's made me think: who determines what the value of a life is? The doctors? The parents? Your friends? The teachers? Is the value of your life determined by fame? Or fortune? Perhaps by influence or power? Is it knowledge that holds weight to value, or is it achievement and recognition?
Knowing what I know now...would I change it? Would I go back, and take it all back? Would I? Having gone through what I went through, and having seen you go through what you went through, would I go back and change it because your life wasn't worth it? Or was it?
You see, the question that I keep wondering to ask is not whether your life was worth LIVING, but rather, would your life have been worth TAKING?
When people talk now about terminating T18 babies, I don't look at that through the lens of doctor, or scholar, but rather, well, I look at it as if someone would be asking me if I'd be happy that they took the life of my daughter. Please understand that I don't mean it as a criticism or judgement. It's just that, well, Miks, for everything that you were not, you WERE still my child. You had personality, and spunk, and character. You were sure of what you wanted and didn't want. You were a person. Just in a different to mostly everyone else.
But so what?
You see, in our pursuit of perfection, we're so busy qualifying everyone around us through our own lenses of approval, that I think we're missing out on the potential of the beauty below what we're seeing. If we instead loved one another, as God has commanded us to do, and as Jesus did, we would only see the wonder in one another, rather than constantly de-valuing, qualifying, and segmenting each other.
And I guess that's the point. When it came down to it, I was well aware of everything you were not. I could see your "imperfections". Often they hit me squarely in the face as we battled with things other parents have not had to. But, at the end of it all, we saw YOU. Petite, beautiful, angelic YOU. And you were perfect. Not by worldly standards, but by YOU standards. We couldn't qualify you. And you had no desire to be qualified. You just wanted to be loved. And since we couldn't give you anything else, that's exactly what we gave you... in abundance! I don't know that any other child has been kisses that much in 491 days!!
Yes, I think I will wear Mikayla lenses from now on. They say that every life has value, regardless of societies expectations. And that the place to start with is always with love.
Another T18 mommy and friend, had some awful comments posted on her videos of her sweet boy, who's over 2 years old. Really, in a nutshell, they questioned the value of his life, and questioned the parents love for him, because, in their words, the parents were being cruel to this little boy.
And it's made me think: who determines what the value of a life is? The doctors? The parents? Your friends? The teachers? Is the value of your life determined by fame? Or fortune? Perhaps by influence or power? Is it knowledge that holds weight to value, or is it achievement and recognition?
Knowing what I know now...would I change it? Would I go back, and take it all back? Would I? Having gone through what I went through, and having seen you go through what you went through, would I go back and change it because your life wasn't worth it? Or was it?
You see, the question that I keep wondering to ask is not whether your life was worth LIVING, but rather, would your life have been worth TAKING?
When people talk now about terminating T18 babies, I don't look at that through the lens of doctor, or scholar, but rather, well, I look at it as if someone would be asking me if I'd be happy that they took the life of my daughter. Please understand that I don't mean it as a criticism or judgement. It's just that, well, Miks, for everything that you were not, you WERE still my child. You had personality, and spunk, and character. You were sure of what you wanted and didn't want. You were a person. Just in a different to mostly everyone else.
But so what?
You see, in our pursuit of perfection, we're so busy qualifying everyone around us through our own lenses of approval, that I think we're missing out on the potential of the beauty below what we're seeing. If we instead loved one another, as God has commanded us to do, and as Jesus did, we would only see the wonder in one another, rather than constantly de-valuing, qualifying, and segmenting each other.
And I guess that's the point. When it came down to it, I was well aware of everything you were not. I could see your "imperfections". Often they hit me squarely in the face as we battled with things other parents have not had to. But, at the end of it all, we saw YOU. Petite, beautiful, angelic YOU. And you were perfect. Not by worldly standards, but by YOU standards. We couldn't qualify you. And you had no desire to be qualified. You just wanted to be loved. And since we couldn't give you anything else, that's exactly what we gave you... in abundance! I don't know that any other child has been kisses that much in 491 days!!
Yes, I think I will wear Mikayla lenses from now on. They say that every life has value, regardless of societies expectations. And that the place to start with is always with love.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Eternity in our Hearts
Last night I couldn't sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about you.
I was remembering you just before you passed away in the hospital... You had got so LONG. You were looking more and more like a toddler (in length) than the baby you had remained for so long. And I got really sad about it.
If you had lived a long "earthly" and "normal" life.. well... I often think how you would have been. I think you would have been blonde. You would've had the biggest blue eyes. You would have been so very beautiful. I think Daddy would've had his hands full if you had been a teenager. You would've had a pale creamy skin, maybe freckles on nose.You would've had long delicate fingers, but your mothers butt (shame!). You would've had a great sense of humour. And would've been doted over by your brothers endlessly.
But you're not here any more. Death took you away. And it hurts so much. You see, we were created with Eternity in our hearts. Every single one of us. Ecclesiasties 3:11 says this: "He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end." (Bold mine)
That's why death is so hard, and so WRONG to us, because we have eternity in our hearts. How, when our hearts are living with eternity, can we accept or fathom death when it is the opposite of eternity? Death is so final. In earthly and human terms, it's the END of something. But eternity has no end. It's such a conflict, and I believe why we struggle so much when we lose someone.
I guess the other end of that coin, is that death ISN'T the end. Death has no power over us. You see, Jesus came that we may have LIFE. And while that's Life In Abundance while on earth, it's also LIFE beyond this earth.
I have to remind myself of this... often. To know that while I have missed out on so much of YOU on this earth... I will (hopefully, if I get my act together), have an eternity to know you. And maybe in Heaven I'll get to skip with you, hug you, do your hair in plaits. And to see those big blue eyes....
Oh how I miss those eyes.
I was remembering you just before you passed away in the hospital... You had got so LONG. You were looking more and more like a toddler (in length) than the baby you had remained for so long. And I got really sad about it.
If you had lived a long "earthly" and "normal" life.. well... I often think how you would have been. I think you would have been blonde. You would've had the biggest blue eyes. You would have been so very beautiful. I think Daddy would've had his hands full if you had been a teenager. You would've had a pale creamy skin, maybe freckles on nose.You would've had long delicate fingers, but your mothers butt (shame!). You would've had a great sense of humour. And would've been doted over by your brothers endlessly.
But you're not here any more. Death took you away. And it hurts so much. You see, we were created with Eternity in our hearts. Every single one of us. Ecclesiasties 3:11 says this: "He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end." (Bold mine)
That's why death is so hard, and so WRONG to us, because we have eternity in our hearts. How, when our hearts are living with eternity, can we accept or fathom death when it is the opposite of eternity? Death is so final. In earthly and human terms, it's the END of something. But eternity has no end. It's such a conflict, and I believe why we struggle so much when we lose someone.
I guess the other end of that coin, is that death ISN'T the end. Death has no power over us. You see, Jesus came that we may have LIFE. And while that's Life In Abundance while on earth, it's also LIFE beyond this earth.
I have to remind myself of this... often. To know that while I have missed out on so much of YOU on this earth... I will (hopefully, if I get my act together), have an eternity to know you. And maybe in Heaven I'll get to skip with you, hug you, do your hair in plaits. And to see those big blue eyes....
Oh how I miss those eyes.
Friday, November 4, 2011
The Garden
I am a dog. I'm not sure what kind. I am definitely not a pedigree, but I am certainly the fiercely loyal kind, as most dogs are. I have been brought to a garden. It is beautiful.
There are big lucious beds of flowers, and green lawns. I am happy.
But then I look again, and I realize there are large dark walls around the garden. Suddenly the garden seems small, and the walls unscaleable. The walls cast big shadows, making the garden feel cold and uninviting. I wonder how anything will survive without enough sunlight.
I am afraid. I put my tails between my legs,and curl into a ball. I whine: a low, soft, lonely sound. It echoes, making a soft wailing reverberation around the garden.
And I wonder where my master is? Why he left me here? Why isn't he fetching me and taking me to a large open park somewhere that I can run and be free? Where he can throw a ball for me, and pat me, and love me? Have I been a bad dog? I can't understand it. I am confused.
I hear a sound. I think it may be my Master. I go to the door of the garden. I scratch the door. At first, it's just a gentle scratch. I fear I may be wrong at first. I scratch a bit, just near the bottom of the door, where the sound is no louder than a mouse. Then I wait. Yes, there's definitely someone there.
I stand a little straighter. I sniff a little. I am cautious. Then I scratch some more. This time louder. I make small whinnying sounds. And the noise from the other side is louder. I think he hears me now.
So I bark. I bark loudly. Oh, the joy! I know he hears me! I hear the boldness of his footstep, I feel the heat of his hand on the door handle. And, as I watch the doorknob turn, I know finally that I am free. He came. Yes, he came for me.
There are big lucious beds of flowers, and green lawns. I am happy.
But then I look again, and I realize there are large dark walls around the garden. Suddenly the garden seems small, and the walls unscaleable. The walls cast big shadows, making the garden feel cold and uninviting. I wonder how anything will survive without enough sunlight.
I am afraid. I put my tails between my legs,and curl into a ball. I whine: a low, soft, lonely sound. It echoes, making a soft wailing reverberation around the garden.
And I wonder where my master is? Why he left me here? Why isn't he fetching me and taking me to a large open park somewhere that I can run and be free? Where he can throw a ball for me, and pat me, and love me? Have I been a bad dog? I can't understand it. I am confused.
I hear a sound. I think it may be my Master. I go to the door of the garden. I scratch the door. At first, it's just a gentle scratch. I fear I may be wrong at first. I scratch a bit, just near the bottom of the door, where the sound is no louder than a mouse. Then I wait. Yes, there's definitely someone there.
I stand a little straighter. I sniff a little. I am cautious. Then I scratch some more. This time louder. I make small whinnying sounds. And the noise from the other side is louder. I think he hears me now.
So I bark. I bark loudly. Oh, the joy! I know he hears me! I hear the boldness of his footstep, I feel the heat of his hand on the door handle. And, as I watch the doorknob turn, I know finally that I am free. He came. Yes, he came for me.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Trust
Mikayla being "thrown" by her Daddy. She always loved this. And let me tell you, Mikayla was always quite clear on what she liked and didn't like!
You know, the last 2 years have really shaken my world. Everything we have been through has really challenged everything I believe in. That's not to say my belief system has changed. No. If anything perhaps it's stronger in some ways.
The word that kept hitting me this last weeks is "trust". And I mean, everywhere. It popped into my head (invariably this is how alot of my posts come about: a little pop! in the head! Not sure if that's a good thing, or a bad thing?). But it keeps appearing at me: a movie title, a verse, a song... So I've been thinking about how trust has been an issue for me over the last two years.
trust (trst)
n.
1. Firm reliance on the integrity, ability, or character of a person or thing.
2. Custody; care.
3. Reliance on something in the future; hope.
v. trust·ed, trust·ing, trusts
v.intr.
1. To have or place reliance; depend: Trust in the Lord.
2. To be confident; hope.
Synonym: faith
These nouns denote a feeling of certainty that a person or thing will not fail. Trust implies depth and assurance of feeling that is often based on inconclusive evidence.
Faith connotes unquestioning, often emotionally charged belief
You see, when all control is out of your hands. When you have no ability to change the course of something. Who do you rely on? Who do you trust? That was hard for me. It still is. When the world around you seems to have their prayers answered, when it seems like God is helping pull other people out of their "ditches", it's really hard to trust that at some point He'll do the same for me. Now, I'm not talking blessings here. That's a whole other thing. Let me be perfectly clear here: We have been blessed in abundance. Even through all we've been through, we have been immensely blessed. And I am so very very grateful for those blessings. But we're also talking the life of my daughter here. It was her LIFE I lost. Not my car. Not my self esteem. Not my pride. The LIFE of my daughter. How do you quantify that? Aside from all the good that has come of it, how do you justify the loss of a life? Not easy.
And through trying to trust God in the last two years, and frankly, having been "let down", how do I continue to trust? Why don't I give up? We've all heard this before: "trust is earned". However, based on the description above ("Trust implies depth and assurance of feeling that is often based on inconclusive evidence"), this is not entirely true.
People were often horrified when they saw Russ playing with Miks. He'd hold her upside down, and throw her in the air. But Mikayla? She loved it. She'd pull her squidgy face, and grin from ear to ear. Russ didn't earn her trust. He simple had it. Did you know that babies naturally don't like a falling sensation, which is why when you lower a baby in a bath, they will cry... Because they don't feel secure. But our babies trust us as parents. Ok, I will admit, in part it is "earned", but I think, for the most part, they trust us based in "inconclusive evidence". In my life, in the last two years, based on prayers I have uttered, I don't have conclusive evidence to trust God. Look, before you shoot me down, I realize that there is very much conclusive evidence of God's goodness and the assurance that we can trust Him... You just have to look at the cross to see it. But, for the purpose of my point, go with me on it.
The thing is, that I do still trust God. For starters, what other hope do I have? (that's the pessimist in me)
But its more than that: The last few weeks, I have really felt like God wants me to let go. Let go of the sorrow. Let go of the frustration. Let go of the disappointment. Perhaps even let go of my dreams. He wants me to let go. To breath out all the sorrow of the last two years. And I believe that when I do that, something will happen. I don't know what. I really don't. Maybe it'll simply be a release of any hidden burden I may be carrying, and it will set me free. Maybe it'll be more than that. Maybe, as a dear friend pointed out, it will be me finally forgiving God. And, while He certainly doesn't need my forgiveness, perhaps in forgiving Him, I can break down any wall between Him and I (that I have built), and repair our relationship (only needed on my part), and build a closeness, that perhaps I have lost. And then hopefully I will feel in my heart, the trust that is in my head.
I feel like He is saying "trust me, my child". Maybe when I really embrace that trust, when I feel it warm me to my core, He will throw me up into the air, and catch me again, while I giggle in His embrace.
Psalm 13
How long, LORD? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
Look on me and answer, LORD my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,
and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing the LORD’s praise,
for he has been good to me.
I am placing my reliance in and depending on, The Lord, my Heavenly Father.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Sad today
I am feeling sad today, Miks.
I wonder if you'd been born in a different country, perhaps with more opportunity and access to medical funds and assistance, would you have fared better?
I am so scared that I didn't do enough. I am sitting here typing, with tears streaming down my face, scared that you didn't get everything you deserved... and that it is my fault.
You were the most beautiful girl in the world. Those big bright blue eyes, and that beautiful smile will resonate in my soul for all my days on this earth and beyond. How will I live the rest of my life without you? I am trying to shuffle along, and am for the most part absolutely fine... but as I sit here alone... well... I wonder if God is punishing me for all that I have done wrong in my life? I know that isn't true... I know that God is a good God. And I know that you're in Heaven. And I know that you're free, and I know that I'll see you again. But with all the "I don't know's" lingering in the back of my head... sometimes it blurs my vision of the "I do know's".
My daughter. I can't believe I had to say goodbye to my daughter.
As we take one day at a time, the reality is that as life goes on around us, we're still dealing with the aftermath. One of the realities of your life and death, is the grief that your oldest brother is having to cope with. He's a gentle, sweet soul, who is a deeply emotional- almost old soul- and he is hurting. But he doesn't know how to filter what he is feeling, and a result is his performance in school (poor concentration); and his occasional (sometimes even regular) outbursts of over-emotion, around often the smallest things.
It was one of my other fears from the moment you were born: I was so scared of the repercussions it would have on the boys. What is their view now on life and death? What is their view on family? On having a family of their own? How will this effect them, both now, and in the future? I am so aware of the emotional scars that we all bear... and more than anything, I must protect the boys from damaged and scarred hearts. I hope, and I pray, that I free them of carrying scars that will adversely affect their future and the relationships and decisions they make as teenagers, and as grown men.
We are dealing with it aggressively, so to speak. I hope, along with the love and time we're giving to them and them alone, that it will be enough.
Death may end a life on earth, but as your soul continues to live in Heaven, the wave of your life here on earth, continues to move, both positively, and negatively. I must be mindful of both.
I wanted to add this video in... I love your sweet little gentle smile in this clip. Oh, how I miss you...
I wonder if you'd been born in a different country, perhaps with more opportunity and access to medical funds and assistance, would you have fared better?
I am so scared that I didn't do enough. I am sitting here typing, with tears streaming down my face, scared that you didn't get everything you deserved... and that it is my fault.
You were the most beautiful girl in the world. Those big bright blue eyes, and that beautiful smile will resonate in my soul for all my days on this earth and beyond. How will I live the rest of my life without you? I am trying to shuffle along, and am for the most part absolutely fine... but as I sit here alone... well... I wonder if God is punishing me for all that I have done wrong in my life? I know that isn't true... I know that God is a good God. And I know that you're in Heaven. And I know that you're free, and I know that I'll see you again. But with all the "I don't know's" lingering in the back of my head... sometimes it blurs my vision of the "I do know's".
My daughter. I can't believe I had to say goodbye to my daughter.
As we take one day at a time, the reality is that as life goes on around us, we're still dealing with the aftermath. One of the realities of your life and death, is the grief that your oldest brother is having to cope with. He's a gentle, sweet soul, who is a deeply emotional- almost old soul- and he is hurting. But he doesn't know how to filter what he is feeling, and a result is his performance in school (poor concentration); and his occasional (sometimes even regular) outbursts of over-emotion, around often the smallest things.
It was one of my other fears from the moment you were born: I was so scared of the repercussions it would have on the boys. What is their view now on life and death? What is their view on family? On having a family of their own? How will this effect them, both now, and in the future? I am so aware of the emotional scars that we all bear... and more than anything, I must protect the boys from damaged and scarred hearts. I hope, and I pray, that I free them of carrying scars that will adversely affect their future and the relationships and decisions they make as teenagers, and as grown men.
We are dealing with it aggressively, so to speak. I hope, along with the love and time we're giving to them and them alone, that it will be enough.
Death may end a life on earth, but as your soul continues to live in Heaven, the wave of your life here on earth, continues to move, both positively, and negatively. I must be mindful of both.
I wanted to add this video in... I love your sweet little gentle smile in this clip. Oh, how I miss you...
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