ramblings nearly 4 years down the road

I don't know if people have forgotten. I don't know if their allowance for my grief has worn thin or out completely. I don't know if they think I should be over it or, worse yet,that I am over it. I'll set the record straight: there's nothing to get over. You can't get over losing a child just like you can't get over having a child. It's nearly if not completely impossible to know what it is to lose a child if you haven't just as it's nearly if not completely impossible to know what it is to have a child.

In a perfect earth, people would either understand your grief or at the very least respect it, but in a perfect world, there would be no grief to understand.

Someday, someday.

"Oh they tell me of a home far beyond the skies..."

in the fury of the moment, I can see The Master's hand

My Bob Dylan (yup, I'm laying claim), he can read my mind. I've loved this song since long before having children and even longer before burying one of them. But I see this song as a vivid description of grief and living after part of you dies. xoxo

In the time of my confession,
in the hour of my deepest need
When the pool of tears beneath my feet
flood every newborn seed
There's a dyin' voice within me
reaching out somewhere,
Toiling in the danger and in
the morals of despair.

Don't have the inclination to
look back on any mistake,
Like Cain,
I now behold this chain of events
that I must break.
In the fury of the moment
I can see the Master's hand
In every leaf that trembles,
in every grain of sand.

Oh, the flowers of indulgence
and the weeds of yesteryear,
Like criminals,
they have choked the breath
of conscience and good cheer.
The sun beat down upon the steps
of time to light the way
To ease the pain of idleness
and the memory of decay.

I gaze into the doorway of
temptation's angry flame
And every time I pass that way
I always hear my name.
Then onward in my journey
I come to understand
That every hair is numbered
like every grain of sand.

I have gone from rags to riches
in the sorrow of the night
In the violence of a summer's dream,
in the chill of a wintry light,
In the bitter dance of loneliness
fading into space,
In the broken mirror of innocence
on each forgotten face.

I hear the ancient footsteps like
the motion of the sea
Sometimes I turn, there's someone there,
other times it's only me.
I am hanging in the balance
of the reality of man
Like every sparrow falling,
like every grain of sand.

fear and peace

Peace is a funny thing. I would say my life is peaceful. Peeking in our house at times, a stranger may not agree, but they can't see what I see.

I have 3 amazing living boys. Words cannot describe how much I love my 4 children; it's just this impossible, amazing, heart-wrenching, so deep in your soul it hurts kind of love. I have the honor of those children calling me, or knowing me, as their mother. I get to watch their lives begin, be a part of it all. With one, I've gotten to witness the end of that beautiful life on this earth. I've gotten to kiss 4 beautiful little foreheads, hold and rock 4 little newborn loves, sing each one a lullabye, read "our story" to each one. And though I only got to do those things with Keely once, I am blessed for that time. I am honored each night that I get to do those things with her brothers.

One thing that losing a child steals from you is your sense of comfort. Nothing is safe. And though I'd give my life to save the life of any one of my children, sometimes that isn't enough. That's a bitter pill to swallow. Oftentimes I can push the fear of realizing this truth aside and other times, it's consuming. Those times of fear, I find myself in hours of prayer. There, and there alone, there is comfort. Someday I'll have all my children together; something I will never get to experience on this earth in the way we all want to so badly.

I find comfort in coming here, to my place to say her name and relieve my fears. She's the only child I don't have to worry about. My life is peaceful, yes. But there are days I have to search hard to pull the warmth of peace back around my shoulders. As Keely's days near, I'll rely on the peace brought by my living children's smiles and laughs and the presence of my beautiful girl in my heart.

"There's a land that is fairer than day,
And by faith we can see it afar;
For the Father waits over the way
To prepare us a dwelling place there.

In the sweet by and by,
We shall meet on that beautiful shore;
In the sweet by and by,
We shall meet on that beautiful shore."

letter to Heaven

Missing you so deeply tonight, my girl. Please keep watch over your brothers and help us to know you hear it when we ring your chimes at night and each morning. You're constantly on our minds and in our hearts. Keely, you're so very, very missed and loved even more. XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

a big sister again

Keely became a big sister again last month to a 10 lb 12 oz baby brother. We will teach him about her. He will know her name, her face, her importance. He was born in the same hospital as Keely, the same hospital we got to hold her, the same hospital that has a memorial garden where her stepping stone will be set on her birthday this year.

The big brothers proudly wore their shirts and held up the matching shirt (with her name, to be made into a teddy bear) for the big sister.

"Life is not measured by the number of breaths you take, but by the number of moments that take your breathe away."

just a verse

Psalm 139:9-10

I'm thankful for you, Keely

I'm thankful for every second I got to spend with you growing in my belly.

I'm thankful for all you've taught and continue to teach your brothers.

I'm thankful for the time I got to spend holding you and memorizing your beautiful face.

I'm thankful I got to see the final beats of your heart.

I'm thankful your daddy has a little girl.

I'm thankful you continue to grow; just in our hearts.

I'm thankful for you.

Though I wish her chair wasn't empty this Thanksgiving, I'm grateful for every bit of her life and beyond.

XOXO