February 29, 2012

This week has been a long one.  My daughters took turns being sick and we stayed home more than usual.

This weekend we were driving an old highway talking about the trees and houses we were passing.  When we passed a cemetery my older daughter asked, "What is that?"

Well I briefly explained that people were special, even after someone has died their body was still treated special and a cemetery was a place to bury someone who had died.  We talked about how they were kept nice so you could be happy if you went there to remember someone buried there.

Then she asked, "Where is James buried?"  I suppose I should have been prepared for the question, but I wasn't.

We chose cremation so he isn't buried anywhere.  And there was no place that had meaning for us to spread his ashes.  Instead we have an angel shaped urn that sits next to his picture on a shelf.  I wasn't sure how much to explain to my girls.  I try to answer their questions and let them know that asking questions is good.

Driving on an unfamiliar road blinking back the tears what I wanted to do was turn up the radio, but I didn't.  We had a short talk and the girls seemed satisfied with my answers.  When we got home Charry went to see where James was.

Talking about him seems to have reminded her of him.  She has worn her locket, with his picture inside,  every day since.

It has reminded me too.  I remember the respect given by the nurses after he died.  They were still gentle with his body.  I remember how weird it was leaving "him" even though I knew he had already left.

There are changes coming soon, changes I know will bring heartache.  Heartache that will make me wonder about my son up in Heaven.

January 24, 2012

This winter has seemed long.  Full of celebrations and stress.  Every thing seems to be coming to an end and a new season, Spring, is coming.  I wonder if every year will have these ups and downs, joys and sorrows.

At times I wonder if I will ever just be happy again.  Right now it seems like when I see joy it reminds me of my sadness. Even though I want to smile and focus on the good things God can do, I find my eyes wanting to cry.

There is a new nephew in my family.  A cute little guy with big eyes and chubby cheeks.  His dedication service was last Sunday.  It was a great time.  There is something awesome about watching a family give their child over to God.  Knowing how serious they are in wanting that child to grow and learn about the Lord always encourages me in the training of my own kids.

This time was a little different though.  The scripture read was the same passage read at James' funeral and instead of thinking about the children I was raising I found myself thinking about the child who was already serving in heaven.  Instead of me showing him who God is someday I hope he will be the one to introduce me to our Savior.

November 5, 2011

Tomorrow is my birthday.  I turn thirty-one.  The last few years will always be remembered as the worst years of my life.  Even this year seems to be pretty drab.  How many times can people tell you, "We're praying for you" before it stops sounding encouraging and start to sound, "boy your life starks."  I have some close friend who I know are praying out of love not pitty.  I do appreciate that.

Last year I didn't really celebrate, just had dinner with family before crying myself to sleep.  This year my birthday is on a sunday and I am spending it with people from the church.

It is hard not to compare last year and this year.  I was trying to explain why even though things are not better, life seems to keep going.

It's as though I was in a room with no windows and someone suddenly turned off the light.  At first I could see nothing.  It didn't matter if there were other people around or not.  The room was black andI felt completely disorientated.  As time has passed my eyes have adjusted to the dim light.  At first it was only those close by that I could see.  Having my family close and wanting them to stay close.  I started to remember where I was and what was going on before the light went away.  Then you start to notice little lights, ones that were dim and unnoticeable with the bright light on.  God's truth that had been over looked, or at least not the focus of my life, suddenly shone brighter than before.  Time keeps passing and I keep adjusting to the darkness.  Heaven shines brighter in the distance.  I continually notice more and more in the dark room.  But the room is still dark, the light is still off, the world I thought I knew still looks strange and the God I love shines brighter, so brights at times my eyes don't want to look.

Life never "goes back" to normal, where you are just becomes a new normal.

October 16, 2011

Last weekend I had so many memories from "one year ago" that were so prescious to me.  Memories that brought a smile to my face and filled my heart with joy.  I could remember the first signs of labor.  I could remember the first time I held my son.  I could remember showing him off to everyone who visited.  I remembered my Dad being able to come to the hospital and hold James.

This week I remember watching Jon clean the crib for my early child.   I remembered the night I went over the AWANA verses with my baby in my arms.  Happy memories.

But this weekend the memories are not happy.  "One year ago" was not a time of meeting and joy but a time of goodbye and sorrow.  I remember how helpless I felt as he cried.  I remember how scared I felt when he wouldn't really wake up.  I remember the doctor's face as he said, "Your little boy is very sick."  I remember the panic in the ER nurse's voice when she said, "the paper work can wait we need the mother back here now."  I remember watching as the helicopter took him away.  I remember  the wires hooked up to him after surgery and the nurse who was manually pumping air into his lungs.  I remember seeing the ultrasound as it showed bleeding in his brain.

I remember saying goodbye and holding him for the last time.  Now a year later my arms feel so empty.  I miss him so much.  I love my son and never want to forget him but today remembering is so hard.

October 9, 2011

Today is James' first birthday.   We had to celebrate without him.  I wanted to keep things small and simple.  I wanted to remember him but not to be pitied.  There is nothing worst than having people ask, "How are you?" while looking at you like they expect you to burst into tears.  I suppose no one knows how they would deal with a situation until they are in it.  And everyone deals differently.

I appreciated the phone call from a friend who understood not only what I was going thru but also that feeling and emotions are not predictable.  I appreciated all the close family praying for us but also grieving on their own for the grandson or nephew that they lost.  He was so small yet his life has affected so many.  It made me smile to hear my nephews had wished him a happy birthday in their prayers.

I didn't want my daughter to feel like they had to be sad but I hope I didn't make them feel like they had to be happy either.  It was a nice quiet day.  I spent it with a few tears right behind my eyes and a small lump in the back of my throat.

Now I feel so tired, drained, maybe I was trying too hard.

Oct 3, 2011

It's October already.  The year went by so fast and yet so slow.  I'm trying not to remember or look back until next week.  Thats when I have time off work and it won't matter if my eyes are red or if I decide to take a nap in the middle of the day.  This week I'm keeping busy, keeping distracted.

How do you remember a birthday of someone who isn't here.  How do you celebrate.  My daughters will be watching everything I do.  They will be wanting to know why.  What can I tell them when I'm not sure.  I want them to know not only is Baby James still very important to us but so are they.  I will never forget any of my children.  I want them to know we can be happy he was born.  He was a gift from God , one I would have liked to keep longer.

Heaven feels so far away right now.  

September 22, 2011

It is getting closer to the one year mark and I find myself at a loss for how I should be feeling.  I want to be happy that I had a son, I want to feel blessed that I held him close for a whole week, I want to remember him and how he changed our lives.  But I don't.  I feel empty, like I've forgotten something important.  The whole thing seems almost unreal.

This week we were celebrating my oldest daughters birthday and teasing her that she should be buying me the present because I did all the work.  Then it hit me I will never tease my son, his birthday will always be bitter sweet.  I wonder how to best remember him.  I want my daughters to know that they have a brother in heaven and he will never disappear.

I also want them to know they will never be forgotten or disappear.  Right now there is added stress of my dad being sick, a friend who died and my daughters having lots of questions.  I find myself just thinking and praying a lot.

I was remembering the movie AI, at the end he has one last day with his "mom" and it is just a normal day.  So often people want to do something big, have a list of "we should of"s, but one more normal day would seem so nice right now.   I've been thinking of my week with my son.  It wasn't anything special just a normal week and I am so blessed to have had it.

The world is full of could have beens.  Most are all the ways things could have been better but I choose to think of how I was blessed, the trials I never had to go threw. I got to be with James the whole time, never had to leave his side except for his helicopter ride.  For one week life got to be normal.  The night I spent reading books to the girls while he slept in my arms is a memory to treasure.  I thank God for giving us that time.