Saturday, October 27, 2007
Beauty
I wrote a post earlier this summer about the beauty God places around us. My son has taken to describing many things that he sees( even a wooden desk that we brought home today!) as beautiful. Sometimes they are not things I might think of as anything more than ordinary, but perhaps my son sees the world through untarnished eyes and is able to delight in the many things I neglect from day to day. Maybe he has finally found a word to articulate all the wonderful things that are around us each day that I have learned to overlook as I rush on by. I thought about this as we drove out to dinner in the early evening. We had the windows rolled half way down and the warm afternoon sun had cleared away the early morning dew. As autumn is my favorite time of year, I closed my eyes for a moment and let the suns heat rest on my face while I took a deep breath in of that cool, crisp autumn air. Something about breathing that sweet cold air into my lungs makes me feel like an athlete waiting for the start of the game. I have endurance ready and rearing in my heels, joyful anticipation beating in my heart, and muscles ready to spring into action. It motivates me. It centers me. And most of all it makes me feel like I am coming to life....... It is a beautiful feelingAs I have said before, there is beauty and life all around us. All we have to do is take a deep breath and breathe it in.So breathe deeply!
Thursday, October 18, 2007
New Normal
new normal
This was recently posted on a message board I am a part of and I decided to post it here.
From the heart of a bereaved Mother...
This is now what "normal"is...
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someoneimportant is missing from all the important events in yourfamily's life.
Normal for me is trying to decide what to take to the cemetery foBirthdays Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, Valentine's Day, July 4th andEaster.
Normal is feeling like you know how to act and are more comfortable with a funeral than a wedding or birthday party...yet feeling a stab of pain in your heart when you smell the flowers and see the casket.
Normal is feeling like you can't sit another minute withoutgetting up and screaming, because you just don't like to sit through anything.
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.
Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes andmind, holding your head to make it go away.
Normal is having the TV on the minute I walk into the house tohave noise, because the silence is deafening.
Normal is staring at every baby who looks like he is my baby'sage. And then thinking of the age she would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it willnever happen.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday,commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyesat how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part ofmy "normal".
Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child's memory and her birthday and survive these days. And trying to find the balloon or flag that fit's the occasion. Happy Birthday? Not really.
Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight ofsomething special my baby loved. Thinking how she would love it, but how she is nothere to enjoy it.
Normal is having some people afraid to mention my baby.
Normal is making sure that others remember her.
Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on withtheir lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.
Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, thegrieving gets worse sometimes, not better.
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their lifeto this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if yourchild is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare. Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.
Normal is disliking jokes about death or funerals, bodies beingreferred to as cadavers, when you know they were once someone's loved one.
Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, butsomeone stricken with grief over the loss of your child. Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feelwith chat buddies who have also lost a child.
Normal is feeling a common bond with friends on the computer inEngland, Australia, Canada, the Netherlands and all over the USA, but yetnever having met any of them face to face.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talkingand crying together over our children and our new lives.
Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleanedthe house, did laundry or if there is any food.
Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say youhave three children or two, because you will never see this person again andit is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you sayyou have two children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if youhave betrayed your baby.
Normal is avoiding McDonald's and Burger King playgrounds because of small, happy children that break your heart when you see them.
Normal is asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours .
Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or amillion years. And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that havebecome "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that youare "normal".
author unknown
This was recently posted on a message board I am a part of and I decided to post it here.
From the heart of a bereaved Mother...
This is now what "normal"is...
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someoneimportant is missing from all the important events in yourfamily's life.
Normal for me is trying to decide what to take to the cemetery foBirthdays Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, Valentine's Day, July 4th andEaster.
Normal is feeling like you know how to act and are more comfortable with a funeral than a wedding or birthday party...yet feeling a stab of pain in your heart when you smell the flowers and see the casket.
Normal is feeling like you can't sit another minute withoutgetting up and screaming, because you just don't like to sit through anything.
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.
Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes andmind, holding your head to make it go away.
Normal is having the TV on the minute I walk into the house tohave noise, because the silence is deafening.
Normal is staring at every baby who looks like he is my baby'sage. And then thinking of the age she would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it willnever happen.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday,commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyesat how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part ofmy "normal".
Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child's memory and her birthday and survive these days. And trying to find the balloon or flag that fit's the occasion. Happy Birthday? Not really.
Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight ofsomething special my baby loved. Thinking how she would love it, but how she is nothere to enjoy it.
Normal is having some people afraid to mention my baby.
Normal is making sure that others remember her.
Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on withtheir lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.
Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, thegrieving gets worse sometimes, not better.
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their lifeto this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if yourchild is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare. Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.
Normal is disliking jokes about death or funerals, bodies beingreferred to as cadavers, when you know they were once someone's loved one.
Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, butsomeone stricken with grief over the loss of your child. Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feelwith chat buddies who have also lost a child.
Normal is feeling a common bond with friends on the computer inEngland, Australia, Canada, the Netherlands and all over the USA, but yetnever having met any of them face to face.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talkingand crying together over our children and our new lives.
Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleanedthe house, did laundry or if there is any food.
Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say youhave three children or two, because you will never see this person again andit is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you sayyou have two children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if youhave betrayed your baby.
Normal is avoiding McDonald's and Burger King playgrounds because of small, happy children that break your heart when you see them.
Normal is asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours .
Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or amillion years. And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that havebecome "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that youare "normal".
author unknown
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
3 months!
My sweet girl,It is hard to believe three months have passed since the day you made your stunning debut. You were heaven sent and to heaven returned, a gift given to us to enjoy for a short while.Oh blessed child shroud in angels attire, the days were too few but so sweet. I think of you so often still and long for those days gone by. If you cannot return to me, someday I shall go to you, to sit with you on high. And we shall laugh and carry on and I will hold you in my arms. Until that day I will think of you and hold your memories most dear. As I lay my head down to sleep tonight my one hope is that we will meet again in my dreams.I love you darling. Sweet Dreams Tonight.
Always and Forever,Your Mommy
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