Mommy's Day

Little Red,

Remembering you, thinking of you, loving you today along with my other 2 amazing kids.

Yours,
Mommy

Down in my bones

It was a feeling that had been coming on for weeks. An achy unsettling down deep in my bones. Like a tornado on the horizon or piles and piles of rain and wind approaching- I could feel that ache so deep that it made me feel off kilter.
I asked her if she was really leaving. She asked me what made me think it was so? I told her I got that feeling and that feeling was never wrong. She sighed and said " I think you are right, Mic."
Fastforward 2 weeks. The day is yet approaching. Only signs on the horizon but no storm yet in sight. I still feel it in my bones.... its more unsettling now than before, like an electric chill running up my spine it leaves me chilled.
She contacts me and says she is headed out of town. She is worried becuase she recieved a message from her grandma and her grandma had planned to come for a visit. She is sad because her grandma hasn't visited in years and Neemaw's voice sounded vulnerable on the phone.
I told her that Neemaw could feel it too......... The woman who had raised her wrapped up in her arms filled with love and wisdom, sweat and tears knew the storm was acomin'.
If Neemaw and I both feel it, does that make it true?

the happy part, the sad part

Ramblings of MicaylaEpisode 1,998Tonight I put together the kids Easter Basket. This is one of the things I look forward to most during the Holidays- the stocking at Christmas, the candy and tokens of love at Valentines day, the basket at Easter. My mom always put so much thought into my own as a child... pouring her love for me into the arrangement and sentiment of the gift that I have been inspired by her to do the same for my own children.I spend days in thought and on more than one trip to the store to find just the right items. I never want to spend too much. I want the gift to be thoughtful and delightful but not showy and materialistic.This year I put together a basket for all of my kids. This was the hard part. Its the hard part at every holiday. I am reminded of all the things I do for Ethan and now Olivia- that I dont do for Faith. I think after almost 2 years those feelings would go away- those feelings of needing to do things for her- but they don't. Instead of covering over that feeling this year for Easter I took extra care to make a special basket for Faith with different items... Items that help me to pour out my love for her, something to take the aching out of my arms that still want to hold her.It was a joyful moment... filling those baskets, arranging the treats and toys, imagining the excitement on my children's face in the morning. It was a sad moment..... thinking of the one little face that I won't get to see.Holidays, they are so bittersweet for me, for us, for our family. Cliff and I are working hard not to transfer our hurts and saddness during this time to our children, to try to make these holidays special and delightful for them. It is easier in many ways, to make new traditions, to do things differently now then we did before we had her.We stay closer to our own home, where we have the freedom to nurse our hurts, slip out to the cemetary to lay flowers on Faith's grave, have a quiet moment alone, or sit and hug our little ones a little tighter, love on them a little longer...... and there in lies that happy part again. That dull ache in my chest for my absent girl reminds me of my fierce love for Ethan and Olivia, reminds me of the joy of their presence, makes my love for them bloom deeper......

Random thoughts of the heart

When I was a little girl I attended a school in Okmulgee Oklahoma. It was called Banneker Kindergarten and it consisted of about 10 classrooms that supported half day kindergarten for about 18 classes. In this school there was also a special classroom for children requiring special education. Even as young as 4 I remember the kids that attended this class. They ranged in age from four to much older( possibly 12) and several of them were in special wheel chairs or walked with the assistance of braces or a walker. Everytime I had the opportunity to be around this special needs class I could not quit staring and wondering about them. I remember one day in class it was my turn to walk with another child to the small kitchen on the other side of the building to return our empty milk crate after snack time. The kitchen was right next to the special needs class and I could see inside the classroom from the spot in front of the milk cooler. I could not help but stare as I stood rooted on the spot. I wondered what life was like at home for those children and what kind of games they liked to play. I stood transfixed in this spot so long that the other child reminded me that we could get in trouble if we took to long and we dumped the milk crate and scurried back to class. Even as a young child I was transfixed by those that were different from me... so much so that my mom said I was never discreet in my staring and would ask questions aloud about people in public that looked different or had a handicap. ( how embarrassing for my mom. *Cringe*)As I look back on that time I think God was preparing my heart even then for the walk ahead.Later, when I was pregnant with my first child, my husband had a coworker who had a baby at only six months pregnant that died. It was a little boy who had a disorder that would not allow him to survive birth and they had a funeral service for him which my husband attended. Weeks later the coworker sent the baby's clothes home with my husband, hoping that we could use the clothes that she had intended for her beloved son.I did not see this for the gracious gesture of giving that it was and was overcome with a fear that by giving us a dead baby's clothes she had somehow inviting ill upon us. I grew so distressed and fearful over the notion that something would now happen to our own baby, that I insisted that these clothes be put out of the house and into the garage. I am embarrassed to state that I was quite shallow and selfish in my anger over the situation. We had a healthy baby boy and time passed. Just before I became pregnant with our second child, I read an article in people magazine. It was about Russell Simmons and his wife Justine. They had given birth to a baby girl that died the same day of her birth from a life threatening condition called an Omphalocele. It was just a small news blurb, a sentence or two long, and yet I was very moved. I was deeply saddened for them and I remember thinking how difficult it must be to lose a baby after your body had worked so hard for 9 months to give that baby life. "I dont know what I would do if that happened to me" I thought. "To put my body through all that for nine months and to have no baby to bring home....."Only 3 months later we discovered that another little one was on its way and everyone asked me if we knew what we were having. I did not know yet that we would be expecting a little girl. "Oh well," they would say " As long as its healthy." This statement really rubbed me the wrong way the more it was said. I already knew that we would love this baby weither it came to us healthy or not... why did people feel the need to say such a thing? Only 2 months later we would discover the grim diagnosis of our daughter.In hindsight, I realize that my heart knew.... all those years my heart was being prepared for the time that I would carry and then get to spend a precious few days with my daughter who was a special needs child. Sometimes the things we fear the most are so feared becuase our heart(and the holy spirit) are preparing us for the time that we will have to face something of a similar circumstance. I am not saying that our fears become our reality... but what I am saying is that sometimes we when we are being prepared spiritually for things, they become at the forefront of our heart or minds. It is that constant presence or those regular brushes with the matter that satan tries to use to cause fear in our hearts.The bible teaches us that " God did not give us a spirit of fear, but power, love, and a sound mind." Satan whispers in our ears that there is much to fear, but God will give us power to overcome any circumstance, love and compassion to support us through it, and a peaceful mind and level head to brave the storm.God can teach us to walk on water in the midst of our storms.....Just some thoughts.Matthew 14:25-3225During the fourth watch of the night Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. 26When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. "It's a ghost," they said, and cried out in fear. 27But Jesus immediately said to them: "Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid." 28"Lord, if it's you," Peter replied, "tell me to come to you on the water." 29"Come," he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. 30But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!" 31Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?" 32And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. 33Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, "Truly you are the Son of God." So let us keep our eyes transfixed on him, let us not look to the left or right, or at the ragging storm beneath our feet.

5Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 6Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Phil 4:5-7

It feels like the cloud is lifting. I dont have anymore answers in my struggly struggleness. Its been a long struggle.... months of struggle... which seems to have come to a head in the last 6 weeks. The burden of the struggle became so much that I didnt know if I could bear it. My husband was worried, my mom was worried, even I was starting to worry about myself.
And then something strange happened.
I opened up about the struggle, earnestly poured out my heart to God on several occasions. Went to him on my knees with my face to the ground and poured out the aches and hurts and confusion.
I dont have an answer yet... I dont know what will be coming... but the burden is suddenly less unbearable.... and I have peace that God is in control of the road...... whatever that road leads to.
I am so thankful to God for peace in my heart today.
Even if that peace were just for today- it is enough.

Struggly Struggleness

Truth be told, struggles arent so much a laughing matter........ but so often we lay them out to be a comical poke at ones self. Throughout the day, working with the public as I do, I hear story after story of an attempt to do something gone awry. It is easy to talk about how we physically struggle to complete a task or job. Think of the last time you unsuccessfully tried to pick up something insanely heavy, or tried to carry one object to many, or tried a new sport for that matter.
What we talk less comically about are internal struggles. Actually, we don't just speak of them in a less comical sense, but we just speak less of them period. Its easy to poke fun at something that occurs with the body, but hard to bear a struggle in our heart.
My heart these days, is struggling. Not that I am the only one. This is what we are really referring to when we say we are having a good or bad day right? A bad day is filled with frustrations, anger, sadness, lonliness, crabbiness........... heart struggles.
Its just that I keep pouring these heart struggles out to God, hoping he will either correct them or give me direction to move further away from them... so that I dont feel them so closely under my skin, a constant reminder of my state of mind... or perhaps I should say state of heart?
I dont know when an answer will come, if it will come, or how I would recognize it if it came.
None the less I push forward, lay it out again, pour my struggles out of my heart and offer them to God.
It is what I can give to the offering plate at the moment. In my heart I hope to be able to give so much more.
Its funny to say that I struggle with a desire to be complacent. I dont mean complacent as in luke warm or apathetic.... I mean, complacent with the place that God has brought me to at this time in my life. Complacent with my job, complacent with the amount of time I have to serve God in ministry, complacent with the amount of time I am able to give my family.... and if He cannot give me complacency... then direction on how to get to a new place, a new balance, .......... a place that I can feel content in Him and in my spot in the grand scheme of things.
My heart is overburdened with this unsettling feeling of being........ unsettled. I am praying for answers....
I am praying for deliverence from this Struggly struggleness.

Love Letter to the Dog

I grew up on a farm in the Bible belt. We had many a cat, which are quite self sufficent, and several outside dogs over the span of my childhood. Never did we have a small inside dog. This was new territory for me and I was more than a bit nervous to bring a new dog home but after my wonderful exeriences during visits to the In-laws( who practically had a chihuahua farm!), I was ready to dive in.
Sweetie, a black chihuahua with white markings, came to us at six months old from my good friend Vivian's home. Vivian's husband at the time had a tendency to yell at the dog and had even thrown things at her so Vivian wanted to find her a safe home. Her original name was Negrita, which means little Blackie, but Cliff had a problem rolling the R's so we felt it would be best to give her a new name. She hid under the bed or behind the coach for much of the first few days and I began to wonder if she would be able to adjust to such a quiet home with two people who work a lot when she came from a home with 5 children and one parent who stayed home most of the time. She was also lost in translation, adjusting from a Spanish speaking home to English.
Sweetie became her new name( she ran around in a circle and wagged her tail when we called her this) and she adjusted slowly and timidly, eating on the third day and snuggling tightly to Cliff in bed that night. She was still a puppy though and with puppy times come puppy messes. She had to be taught to potty outside 100% of the time and had a habit of chewing things up. When it was discovered that she had two sets of fangs( the baby ones never fell out when the adult ones came in) a quick surgery at the Vet solved most of the chewing issues. She was lonely while we were gone during the day though, and I felt that she needed a companion.
The search for a companion was a fervent one. I was determined to find just the right dog. When I saw a newspaper advertisement for a chihuahua/dachsaund mix puppy, I thought I had found the perfect match and drove over to see the puppies. The house was cluttered, dirty, and full of dogs- but one in particular stood out to me.... although she did seem a little big for the breed..... She lay calmly on the couch and seemed unfazed by the puppies scurring around. I was a bit concerned by a small bulge on her stomach but was told that all weenie dog puppies have this and they grow out of it. I brought the beautiful brindle red and brown puppy home to my husband and her big sister, Sweetie, and hoped for the best.
3 things quickly became apparent with the new puppy. 1. I would never have my own pillow again. From day one she lounged across my pillow, leaving me with a stiff neck in the morning, or worse, finding myself pillowless or stuck in the crack between my pillow and Cliff's 2. The bulge on her stomach was not normal and was actually a hernia that would require surgery 3. Although she seemed calm she could be quite nourotic, developing a phobia for being left home alone. She chewed through a card board box that she was left in the first day, and never quite adjusted to being crate trained, crying and yelping and trying to chew the kennel door when we would leave. She chewed up a cell phone, my new glasses, shoes, and many household items. And she was getting big! She certainly was not a Chihuahua!
My inlaws wondered if she would be a keeper, telling us that she was thick skulled or dumb for all the troubles she caused. I learned my first few parenting lessons of perseverance with Bayer( she became known as Teddy Bayer for her velvety coat and cuddly nature).Cliff was on the verge of giving her up a few times when she could not seem to get house trained... but I believed in her and stuck by her, giving her more love, more one on one time, and firmer disipline( I certainly believe I have mastered how to spank a dog!) I began to worry and wonder and hope that she could make it through her difficult doggie teen years... and formed quite a Motherly bond with my dogs. I looked to Sweetie to teach Bayer how to behave and be a good dog.( all the expectations of a big sister of course) and I had many heart to hearts with Bayer as she lay on my bed about what the future would hold.
Over time and many obstacles, Bayer developed obedience and a strong sense of loyalty to both Cliff and I.
When it came time to prepare to bring our first child home, the dogs learned right along with us. We carried a cabbage patch doll around the house and spoke to it, putting it in the crib for bedtime and the bassinet for naptime so that the dogs could get adjusted. They were insanely curious of the doll we were talking to and followed us from room to room wagging their tails furiously as we talked to the doll.
As my belly grew, so did the dogs affection for the baby inside it. Sweetie would lay snuggled against the outside of my stomach, just where the baby seemed to be laying. Bayer became more docile and calm and would lay in the bed with me as I endured countless headaches and aching hips. They wanted to sit on the rug in the bathroom as I took my bath, resting with me as I tried to soothe my aches away.
When it was time for Ethan to come home they were affectionate and curious right from the start. They had been warned several times to stay away from the baby and had learned to keep their distance, but as he grew, they began to sneak in for an inspection, sniffing a poopy diaper as he played on the floor or sneaking in for a quick lick to his face as he drooled and banged away in his excersaucer. Soon of course, they learned to run and hide as he became mobile and sought to yank their tail or hair on their head.
We went throught the same excitment and mothering as we prepared to bring our second child home. Sweetie again resumed her post beside my belly at night and they were all too eager to get up with me during my nighttime snacks. When we came home from the hospital babyless, the dogs were confused. Sweetie continued her post by my belly for several weeks- knowing it was smaller now but not understanding what happened to the baby that had been growing inside it.
It was Sweetie and Bayer that would get up with me in the night becuase my grief was so strong that I could not sleep. They would lick the salty tears from my cheeks or look into my eyes with all the unconditional companionship that only a dog could offer. I began to roam the house quite a bit at night- looking at some of Faith's things for the hospital, pouring over my bible for comfort and wisdom, getting online to my support site, or perhaps crying in the kitchen or living room. As soon as the dogs would wake up and sense that I had left the bed, they would get up to come find me and sit with me for as long as I needed. Once I started working on the Memorial Garden for Faith, they were right beside me, digging for worms in the freshly turned earth or rolling in the warm sunshine on the grass beside me. They followed me outdoors on brightly moonlit nights and sat patiently beside me as I cried and prayed from the bench in the garden.

As my belly began to swell again, Sweetie once again resumed her post and Bayer embraced all the time I liked to lounge in the bed.... but this time they were more quiet, more attentive, and more motherly.
The dogs were elated when we returned from the hospital with our arms filled with Olivia and were a great companion during night time feedings.
I can't imagine the last 5 years of my life without my dogs. Some say that dogs are mangy, dirty, hairy, annoying... but all I can think of is the comfort and companionship they have given to me. They bark at the strange noises in the house at night, always faithful to investigate for me. They try to entertain the children and any visitors that come by the house, and they have given their full attention and heart to me. They have helped to comfort me in ways that no one else has been able to do.
I love you Sweetie and Bayer!

Reach

Yesterday I watched Ethan as he brushed his teeth, trying to hurry him along so that we could leave the house. He was doing such a quick job that he didn't really even get the back of his molars and in a polite motherly tone I asked " Did you get your molars? You know- in the back?" He is always an honest child and he told me No as he quickly and intently jabbed the toothbrush to the back of his teeth to give them a good scrub. He watched himself in the mirror as he did this and the toothbrush would poke the side of his cheek with back and forth motion. He did this several times in a very focused fashion and stopped abruptly. "Uh-oh!" He said, " We need a Reach!"
Instantly it dawned on me that he was referring to the infamous Reach toothbrush commercials in which the cartoon man unhinges his jaw so he can reach the back. As we have never discussed toothbrush brands, this amused me greatly as I realized at four years old that advertising was already finely embracing him with its persuasive tactics- and Ethan was embracing back.
I laughed and pointed at the childsize red toothbrush in his hand " Look. Its already a Reach! R.E.A.C.H- see?"

My four year old- a fine consumer in the making :)

Free Exit

I headed out on Hwy64, quickly accelerating as I pulled through the last flashing red light just outside of Morrison. As I hit the long and vacant stretch of road westward bound into the vast plains of the panhandle, I sipped my coffee, almost chugged it down really, and its sweet and bitter warmth flowed down into my gut. I sighed as I shifted the beetle into sixth gear, the turbo deisel making a steady hum like the buzz of a bee.
The pastures around me were covered in frost and the morning glow was beginning to creep in and dispell the darkness behind me. I watched the sunrise in my rearview mirror, a glorious winter sunrise, orange and pink, but mostly gold, and it inched its way across the horizon, licking the darkness away. I focused again on the road ahead and the darkness that I was still driving into with gusto.
The coffee in my gut twisted into a knot and for a moment I thought I would have to pull over and share my coffee with the Oklahoma plains. The moment passed and I buzzed on, pulling past a small country church and a sign that said " County cemetary" with an arrow pointing south down a dirt road.
I thought about the decisions I had made and the ones coming ahead... and the moments in between the two that required too much sitting and thinking and not enough action. I wondered if I would have the strength I needed to make it through. "Of course I will," I told myself " Becuase that is who I am and that is what I do. Faithful, dependable, predictable."
The Sunday before I recieved a dissapointing but not unexpected call about Frank.
Funny and lively Frank, our neighbor for 5 years, who now lived in a nursing home in the Western part of the state. I drove over to see him once a week for the last 14 months, increasing my visits to 3 times a week in the last 8 weeks. His illness started with a simple cough, which turned into a cold and then pnemonia, and his body kept filling up with fluid becuase his kidneys couldnt keep things flushed out fast enough.
He was 73 and had no family to call his own. He had a distant cousin who lived in the Dakotas- I wasnt even sure if it was North or South. I stepped in to fill the role as best I could, and had somehow assumed the role of medical power of attorney and if something were to happen, would assume the role of executor of his estate.
The Dr on the other end of the line said that his heart had stopped. "Did I want to keep the DNR in tact or did I want them to try to start his heart?"
I didnt expect this decision to be so hard. I knew his wishes but weither he took another breathe on this earth or not now depended on me.
" Please give it a try. " I said as I grabbed my purse and my keys and scrambled for the door. By the time I drove the hour and a half there, he was resting in his room, wheezing each breathe in and out of his skinny frame. I sat in the still room, silent but for his ragid breathing, and wondered how life gets to such a point. I remembered him just months before, laughing and carrying on, telling story after story of his travel and adventure and the many years he spent serving our country. He lived life hopping from one place to the next, only sitting still for the five years he lived next door to us after his retirement. He was forever the bachelor, except for a short and lively marriage at the age of 71. His wife, Gerty, lived only 7 months after they wed and died of a stroke in her sleep on her 68th birthday.
Three hours after I arrived I heard him trying to stir. He cleared his throat several times and in a raspy voice he said my name.
"The last time I saw him he was only a baby." He said in a whisper. I turned my head to look into his sad eyes, cloudy blue under his silver brows.
" He was my boy. I got a girl pregnant just before I enlisted and we married on an R&R. I got shipped straight into the war and the only thing I had to offer her was my tiny monthly paycheck and a letter for each day of the week. I only saw him the one time, when I came back from my tour of duty. She told me that day that she had met someone else that could take care of her better. She moved 3 states away and took Adam with her. I never said "Don't" and I never said bye. I didnt know how to be a daddy. I dont even know his middle name."
I asked Frank if I should find him.
He stared at the wall for several minutes. "No, he never got to watch me live, better not to have to see me die."

Frank's condition slowly deteriorated after Sunday. His body began to fill with fluid again and this time I knew I couldnt make him hang onto this life with no one here to stay for and so much pain. He got placed on a ventilator again on Tuesday and was sedated to a state in which he was not aware of any comings or goings. He was no longer himself.
On Thursday I made the decision via phone conference with his doctors to pull lifesupport, and now I was on my way to sit with him as his body began to die.
I downed the last sip of coffee and punched through my ipod, listening to a few seconds of each song and then deciding that nothing sounded quite right.
There was no appropriate song to listen to when one was on a death march.... no song perhaps except the sound of silence.
I rolled down my window and let the frigid morning air slap against my face as I fought hard against the panic that was sitting within me.
I slowed down to take the last free exit off of the turnpike, the last free exit before I had to take responsibility for a myriad of decisions, the last free exit before I watched life slow down until it slipped away.

ammendment to and so....

I forgot to add:

"This days been crazy, but everythings happened on schedule,
from the rain and the cold, to the drink that I spilled on my shirt.
You knew how youd save me before I fell dead in the garden,
and you knew this day, long before you made me out of dirt."

Table for Two- Caedmon's Call

Thinking of You

My little Angel,
We attended a christmas memorial service last week in memory of you and many other children that are no longer here with their families.We said a special prayer with the group- titled the prayer of Faith( how suiting) and placed an ornament on the tree for you. I have missed you ever so much -especially these last few weeks.We are facing our second christmas without you and it is still hard. This year is different than last though, and I am thankful for that. Last year grief bowled me over and knocked me flat on my back... it left me aching and searching... and barely able to face each day... and this year I am managing my way through the holiday season without having to run into hiding.These are baby steps I guess. We are taking it simply this year. Some decorations for Ethan and Olivia( and you) of course. The tree we got last year to start a new tradition.....and all of your stockings line the mantel. It felt good to hang five this year, with your satin pink one tucked on the end. ( your daddy and I will continue to tuck a Christmas letter inside for you this year)The holiday will be simple for us to help make it more bearable. No travel, few visitors, simply celebrating the days we have with your brother and sister, remembering the few days we had with you, and expressing our most humble thanks to God for sending his son into the world to save us.I love you so much, you are never far from my thoughts.

Always,Mommy

Prayer of Faith

We trust that beyond the absence, there is a presence.That beyond the pain, there can be healing.That beyond the brokenness, there can be wholeness.That beyond the anger, there may be peace.That beyond the hurting, there may be forgiveness.That beyond the silence, ther may be the word.That beyond the word, there may be understanding.And through understanding, there is love.

and so..........

and so........ it has been quite awhile since I have written. My sincerest apologies to my loyal blog followers. Thank you for your patience with me.
I have no witty or creative postings for today, just a few lines to ensure that you know I am still here and ticking and living and dreaming and believing.
Life is a bit hectic-just the way I like it I suppose. I long for moments to stop and breathe and then when I get them i think I could pull my hair out from the monotony.
We are on the cusp of christmas- which has become something different to me in the last two holiday seasons. It has become deeper- more impactful - more somber.
Not in a negative or less thankful way- just different from the uptempo and exuberant Holiday I grew up with. Of course it is my own experiences in the last few years that shade the holiday for me- but I am thankful that God can use those moments in my life to teach me more of Him.
It was shared with me recently that Christs birth came at such a time of adversity...... born in a manger, at a time when all infant males were being killed, born amongst manure and dirt, along side the animals of the stable....... Christ was born in adversity.......
I think of my own life........ how God uses the adversity, the manure, the dirt, to mold and shape me...... how he delivers Life into me in the times that I am down and out........... what an amazing God that he can shape and mold us and make our lives blessed- even in the dirt.

And so that is where my thoughts are at these days......

Ethan is excited for Christmas to come and has been counting down the days. His joy in the season has brought me joy.

In the words of Wordsworth-

Faith


Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind—But how could I forget thee? - William Wordsworth

a very piraty thing to say lassy!

Could arrrrrrg! be considered a first word? Did I give birth to a pirate??Sometimes, Olivia babbles out things that sound strangely like " Momma" "Daddy" and " I love you". She is just starting to talk and I will admit the title is misleading becuase she hasnt said her first official word yet- unless aaaaarrrrg is a word- which I dont think it is.But this lament, arrrrrggggg! Is her favorite thing to say. She will interject it in a quiet and serious moment, she babbles it from the back of the car as we cruise down the road, she says this in response to being placed in her crib after her early morning feeding, it is the new constant noise that accompanies all the other noises in our already noisy home. A sign of an adventerous spirit perhaps?
...............Or is she already a comical genius? Lord knows, I already have one clown amongst my children........
ARRRRRRRRGGGG! Matey! Pass the bottle er ye will be sure to walk the plank!

an anatomy of a breakdown

It was the fine hairline fracture that changed my future. I was adamently pushing myself to earn a BS in Nursing so that I could be a scrub wearing, pulse checking, booboo fixing nurse. It was my latest dream in a short but tasteful line of dreams. I had been fixated on this 'cure' for my future for several years and was convinced that it was the right direction for me.
So convinced was I, that in later years, including 2008 to be exact, I would wonder "what ifs?" about the nursing career I failed to successfully pursue.
I decided to take a discombobulated and unbalanced semester of courses, convinced that with determination and hard work I could make it through. Of course, I did not account for my nonability to do homework to drag me down- nor did I feel like my terrible study habits might be a hindrance to succeeding. I sure didnt know myself very well :) In fact, sometimes I laugh in the face of my former self.
I decided to take Spanish, Chemistry, an excelarated 8 week Human Anatomy evening course( with a 70% failure rate- D's and below!), and Sociology in the same semester. This was not nor could never be a good balance for me due to my intense lack of interest in the majority of science courses. I was incredibly overwelmed and I was too bored to do anything about it.
It started with the intense pressure I felt to ace my Chemistry class. My mostly unheard of and intensely foreign last name led to this first step into my breakdown. My mother, a thriving college student who returned to school in her mid thirties, had attended the same university just 6 years before, had become a star chemistry student and now led a successful career in the Environmental field with a degree in Chemistry. The teacher called me out during roll call the first day and stopped to ask me how my mom was doing. The entire class looked at me intently and I could see them mentally calculating my possible preformance abilities and trying to sum up if I would be the class genius. Little did they know that I was the least studious person in the room and soon set to receive my first F on my college transcript. To be truthful, the intense pressure I felt to like Chemistry becuase of my mother and the intense bordom that I felt each time the professor talked about ionic compounds, molecules, and the quantum theory was enough to do me in. But this was not the breaking point, just the starting point.
With swift determination and gusto I marched into my first night of the 4 hour course with my greys anatomy in hand and my anatomy coloring book. I had convinced myself that I would enjoy the course( ha! still with the not knowing myself!) and that the people who said an 8 week accelerated course that would teach me the entire skeletal, lymphatic, muscular, vascular, nervous, digestive, reproductive, and endocrine systems in just 16 days was difficult were crazy.
Then came the evening that we had to take dowl rods and place them on a model in place of all the skeletal joints and unions. We had one class session to learn them all and the next class session would be a test over the entire skeletal system. I drove home in a daze and saw my career as a nurse swirling down, down, down, into the drain of the toilet of life.
Human Anatomy and Chemistry were definitely not for me. And so I decided that Nursing was not the thing for me either. I promptly dropped the anatomy course and spent the next 3 semesters trying to decide what to do with myself. This led to a deep and confusing period of self discovery. The problem was that I didnt discover anything about myself.
And this was the moment that the breakdown felt complete. I was officially broken. I earned a code 99 on a career placement test at the career guidance office which officially meant- " we dont know what the hell you would be good at or enjoy doing" which to me translated to " good luck with college becuase you are never going to graduate at your rate you poor confused child."
This led to a string of courses off the beaten path which led to my enlistment in the United States Airforce. Still knowing nothing about myself, I decided to pick a science related job- Meteorology.
Of course, this too ended rather differently than I thought it would and due to a series of unfortunate events( OR SOME might say life saving) I decided against enlisting during the twilight hour.
I can offically state that I was enlisted in the United States Airforce but never fulfilled the basic duties of the job and therefore have some kind of discharge on my permanent record, and this, the recruiter told me, was like a black mark that would follow me wherever I go.
8 years later, black mark and all, I now say I hail from Stillwater Oklahoma. It has been a strange series of events that have led me to this place. It is a place I have grown to refer to with affection as " my home".
10 years after my pseudo breakdown and I could not be happier with where I have ended up.


And so time passed and I stumbled in the dark down a road that somehow led me to the here and now. A here and now that I have grown especially fond of.
And now let me just say how thankful I am for that breakdown and for the One who has guided me through the darkness all this time. What I didnt understand is that I didnt ever need to know my way, for the One had it all mapped out.
My creator could do more with a broken down me than a me of any other form or fashion.

Faith Constance- Your Song

Faith,
I made up your nursery rhyme, just like I did for your Bubba and little Sis. I know you arent here for me to sing it to you, but every now and then I sing it anyway. It makes me smile. Singing is a refuge and healing thing for me. When you were in my belly I would sing songs to you everyday. When the days got really hard after we learned you were sick I would sing out, over and again, one song.
Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.
Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise,Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.
High King of Heaven, my victory won,May I reach Heaven's joys, O bright Heaven's Sun!Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.In those moments, singing these words gave me strength.... enough to make it through that day anyways. I often would think of a soldier or gladiator, preparing for battle.... and I would think of the family they would be preparing to leave and the hardship they might face.... and suddenly my hardship didnt feel so lonely in the world. Everyone faces hardships- all different kinds. I have never been alone in that- but still its easy to forget that we arent the only ones that face sorrow. Its easy to get caught up in feeling sorry for myself about all the things I miss out on with you- but one thing shines bright and shining like the sun above all those sour thoughts- and that is the joy of being able to love you and to be chosen by God to carry you for your short time here.When you were in my belly I would count your little kicks. You liked to lay on your left side in there and your persistant kicks would tap tap tap under my right rib cage. Once you were born you would shift your little body in your isolete to lay the same way.... curled a little and on your left side- with your hands resting around your omphalocele. It was sweet to see how you laid- as if you didnt know that the omphalocele is what made you so sick and was a delicate thing. After all, you spent your whole life in the womb with it just the way it was. You just rested your hands upon it as another extension of you- just as you would an arm or a leg or your face....... As I watched you lay there in that way I understood that you didnt know yourself any differently- that you would probably never see the difference- and that you embraced yourself wholely.
You would probably never know how different from normal you were.
All that you would know is that you were loved- deeply.And little girl- whew! Are you loved so deeply!
Mommy

the perfect day

My fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Nease, assigned us various topics for essay assignment. At the end of the year, she took those essays and put them together in a packet along with drawings we had made for our parents to keep. There were lots of interesting topics about our thoughts, about life, and our hopes and aspirations.
One essay was titled: The Perfect Day.

The rules were simple... write about one day- 24 hours total with no limitations or restrictions.
With Gusto I sat down to write my essay and quickly fell into a daydream to top all daydreams.
I filled up the entire sheet I was writing my essay on and had to pull out another sheet.
From my eleven year old hand I wrote out a detailed day of events that went something like this:
wake up and have strawberry pancakes with family and my friend Amanda Hagey and Autumn Summers
we will play boss and secretary( a pretend make believe game), unicorns, and barbies( I know- I know I was an eleven year old still playing make believe and dolls- dont tell Fawn about the barbies! I think she is too cool for that!)
We will have lunch at McDonalds and then my friend Fawn Porterand I will go to disneyworld after lunch.
After an afternoon at Disneyworld, a limo will pick up all my friends and we will eat pizza on our way to see: NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK IN CONCERT. After new kids on the block we will go swimming in the moonlight.

As you can see, I packed ALOT of things into my 24 hours. I definitely had to get as many things as I could done- becuase I only had ONE day to do it.

On Wednesday morning I woke up around 5am to get ready for the day. I didnt get to bed until late the night before so I stumbled through my morning routine and wished for more sleep( I would say dreamed of sleep but that is just silly :) At 615 I went into Ethans room to rouse him and was met with a fight. This has become more and more common these days and has prompted us to put Ethan to bed even earlier at night, but this has not squelched the morning crying and whining.
As I sat on my sons bed listening to him whine and watching him try to pull the covers back over his head... I remembered the long ago essay from 5th grade.
I decided to redraft the essay and this is what it would say:
The Perfect Day
Sleeping in until 9am.
Coffee.
Stay at home in pajamas with family
The End

repentance and rest, quietness and trust

This is what the Sovereign LORD, the Holy One of Israel, says: "In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it. Isaiah 30:15

A few weeks ago I posted a scripture verse that was tied to my Lumos post. It was Hebrews 4:12, a post about the word of God shedding light onto the attitude and thoughts of our heart... about its ability to direct us.

I have been mulling the verse over since then... wondering about my direction, my aspirations, what I am doing, what I could be doing....... WHO I AM....all of those type of things......

Today a verse rang through my mind, a beginning of the answer to my prayer about my direction and my actions........
I have attached the verse above. I would have thought the words would read " in repentance and action are your salvation" But this verse speaks the opposite doesnt it? It says nigh of good deeds and speaks volumes about resting in God and KNOWING him. I knew the repentence part... but the resting part is new for me.
I have had so many outside influences lately that have pushed me to speak up to be louder, to push my way to the front and my heart has bucked against this advice for good reason. "in quietness and trust shall be your strength"
I dont think quietness speaks of not saying anything. Being quiet is not the same as being silent...
But it does say alot to me about trying to be the loudest one in the room :)

Thoughts anyone?

To My Fair Child

Dear Faith,

Hello my lovely fair haired child. My tuesdays child, whose life was full of grace..... God's grace that brought you to me and allowed me to be your mommy. I try not to think of how short our time was... although that thought follows me like a shadow some days... I remind myself that God chose me to be your mom, he brought you to me and no one else..... because he knew how fiercely I would love you....... and just how much you would teach me about life and Love... so much love.Today is 15 months since you left my arms into God's own. The sadness of losing you hung around my shoulders today like a winter shawl. Today I was drapped in the ache of it. I remember the silky softness of your hair under my fingers still...... and the warmth of your baby skin. I remember watching your chest rise and fall under the bili lights and thanking God for each breath I saw you take.I am watching your brother and sister grow before my eyes. Trying desperately to log every moment, every milestone, every look..... and remembering with each moment all the ones I miss with you. Your little sister is 3 months old now... and everyday is something new. What joy it brings my heart to watch her change and grow and learn about the world... and with each moment that my heart swells with joy... it aches with sorrow too.Aches for you. Becuase she has already passed so many milestones that you never hit.
Beautiful Princess, beautiful girl. Keeper of my heart- I made a song for your big brother and one for your little sister that I sing during diaper changes.... I think I will make one up for you too....Kisses and hugs,and just one hug more!!!!!
and one more!
Mommy

The Question

Last night as we were at the mall in Tulsa, something happened to cause my breathe to catch in my throat.... It was as if someone had shoved an egg in there- I couldnt seem to swallow it down and it made my chest ache to try.

Its gotten to be a familiar feeling.

On the drive home, in a moment of quietness, I asked Cliff " Do you think that feeling will ever quit? You know, the ache of knowing what you are missing out on?"

He responded simply and then quietness again. " No. It will ebb and flow, but it will always be there."

And so it ebbs and flows.

Thursdays

When I was a little girl, my mom told me I was born on a Thursday. "Thursday's Child" she called me, and then she would quote an old song "Monday's child is fair of face,Tuesday's child is full of grace,Wednesday's child is full of woe,Thursday's child has far to go,Friday's child is loving and giving,Saturday's child must work for a living,But the child that's born on the Sabbath day,Is fair and wise and good and gay." And so I became the child who had far to go... although my mother always made it sound as if I would go far.... I WAS GOING PLACES.
The years turn, the world was spinning, and 24 years after I became a Thursday's child, I had another Thursday's Child. In fact, I had my Thursday's child in the very same hospital that my mother had her Thursdays child.
But even after all this, Thursdays didn't seem any different to me than any other day. Nothing was different to me about Thursday than the hump day before it or the TGIF after it. Thursday was thursday was thursday.... and sometimes I didnt even notice when one came and went.

This all changed for me in my 27th year. On July 12 of my 27th year I held my little girl in my arms for the very first-and last- time. The world stopped- for a moment- and everything was rearranged. And every week to follow, for months on end, stopped on Thursdays and my world would feel as if all its pieces had been jumbled up... and couldnt be made smooth. Sometimes my heart would grow so heavy that I could feel Thursdays arrival before it arrived... By humpday my mind had dulled, my feet grew heavy, my voice became numb as I retreated into myself.
Sometimes, Thursdays were so heavy that they bled into humpday and TGIF and the weekend to follow. Sometimes Thursdays seemed to be connected to each other...... a seemless loop that led one into the other.
In the last few months I have managed to skip a Thursday or two without feeling so blue. The Thursdays now stretch further and far between.... and sometimes Thursday doesnt even fall on Thursday anymore. Last week it came on Wednesday and all I could think was how much my humpday felt like Thursday. So if you here me say "Today feels like a thursday..." well, you know what I mean. :)

Thank you Betty!

Occasionally, I find inspiration from unlikely sources. Last week it came from one of my favorite fluffy comedies- Ugly Betty.

Betty Suarez said, " You have to want something enough to fight for it!"

I had to pause a moment and reflect on the things I wanted. Was I fighting for them?

And if I wasn't, did I really want those things?

Perspective.

Thanks Ugly Betty!

Summer fun

Here is an image of Ethan at his birthday party on September 20th. If you look closely at his face you can see his excitement! The gym owner was having the children yell "booyah!" before going out to play one last time.
Ethan had such a great time at the party and I was really proud of him for being so grown up. He was calm as he opened his presents and thanked each of his friends for their gift. It hit me so hard how fast he is growing up.... and as a result of that, I am trying to slow down my time with him, trying to enjoy the little moments that we have together instead of rushing through them.
That night, after everyone had left, he and I went to jump on the trampoline that his Mimi and Papa got him for his birthday. When I was growing up I didnt have things like a trampoline, but I had friends that did and I remember jumping on them at sleepovers or slumber parties. As Ethan and I jumped around we laughed and giggled at ourselves. I showed him the fun jumps or tricks I knew and we took turns doing them as well as chasing each other around the trampoline. As it grew dark we took breaks to lay on our backs and watch the stars come out. We didnt stay out too late- Ethan had a long day and still needed a bath- but we saw about 6 stars appear in the time we were out there. As we layed there looking up, he would excitedly point out a new star and count them in the sky.... The smell of the trampoline, the softness of the evening air, and the glow of the sun setting brought back so many memories of summertime in my childhood. I smiled to myself as I thought of Ethan, on the cusp of being schoolaged, and at a point where he would start to remember experiences for the rest of his life. I was deeply thrilled at the thought of helping him to create happy, enjoyable memories... We got up for one last bounce and tried out all the moves before we headed into the house for bath. When it came time to read his beadtime story- instead of saying " pick out a little one- its late" I picked one of the longer ones that I could find. After all, he won't want me to read him stories forever....... and soon those days will pass by as quickly as our summer has.

Sleepless in Stillwater

I am sitting here listening to Sweetie the chihuahua as she snores from the middle of my bed. She has taken up most of my space next to Cliff( all 4 pounds of her) and she is dreaming away. Occasionally a little yelping sound escapes her lips and I hope she is dreaming great doggie dreams of chasing something. As much as I would like to lay my head down to sleep and dream sweet dreams of my own.... shut eye is evading me tonight. It is moments like this that often prompt an impromptu walk along the gardens edge, peering through squinty eyes to try to see the plants new growth and blooms in the dark Oklahoma outdoors.( and avoid those darn garden spiders at all costs) Tonight I choose to listen to the hum of the computer and the whir of the fan overhead....... as I think deep thoughts that I cant seem to keep from swirling in my head.The air conditioner broke today. I dont know what ails the silent box. Perhaps it feels as ragid as I, worn out from too many long days of hard work and an incompassionate and unrelenting inner drive. When did I get to be so hard on myself?Of course, it is just a machine...... but machines can wear out too. And my broken machine is a reminder that even a cold and emotionless box will eventually break down... that no matter of hiding emotions, or burying feelings will save us from an occasional meltdown. And that is my food for thought for you today. Will hiding from the things we dont want to face or feel really save us from breaking down?Does it create an iron will ? or a cold heart?
Inquiring minds want to know

additional Lumos thoughts

Psalm 119:105Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.


Hebrews 4:12For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.

Lord, may your word luminate my heart, cleanse me, heal me......................and make my clock tick tock like new.

Lumos

There is a charm that Harry Potter says to create a ray of light with his wand. "Lumos!" he will say and a ray of light will shine forth, making his path clear.
I wish I could take Harry Potter's wand and shine it at my heart. "Lumos! Lumos!" I would say so that I could see all that is inside me, each thought, each feeling, each need, even in the deep hidden folds of me.... and I would pour them out- out like water pouring from a broken dam, like wine flowing from an uncorked bottle, like snow falling in an avalanche. And I would lay it all out before me, like the pieces from a broken clock.......... and I would line every piece up, every groove, every wheel, every arm, every spring, every lever, until my heart beat in time- sounding forever on end- a smooth and simple and rythmic 'tick, tock' 'tick, tock'

How did I end up with a broken clock?

Bittersweet Days

bittersweet days
I can't begin to tell you readers, how excited I am about today. Ethan turned four this week and we are having a big boy party for him at a local youth gym. The kids will be bouncing on trampolines, balancing on the beams, and causing quite a ruckus. He actually had a hand in deciding what kind of party we would have this year, from the location down to the kind of cake we would serve.We have been counting down the days and weeks for most of the summer.I just can't believe that my little boy, my first born child, is 4 years old now and on the verge of being SCHOOL AGED.
For all the joys I have over celebrating Ethans big day, I can't help but think about my little one that isnt here. I have been wondering all week what it would be like if she could be at the party. She would be 14 months old, old enough to toddle... would she be trying to keep up with the big kids? Would I be quite harried trying to keep up with her and my sweet Olivia too? Like their Papa always does, I am sure he would be carrying her around, keeping up with her as she rocks in the wooden boat, helping her grab onto the bars overhead, helping her bounce on one of the easier trampolines...... I am sure her red curls would be bouncing in the air... and she would be smiling with delight and determination as she tries to keep up to her 90 to nothing big brother.It is a bittersweet day. Full of joy... and aching in my heart too.
Yesterday, I attended a wedding in Enid. While I was there I got to set my eyes on the little boy of the couple who were getting married. He is about 4 or 5 months old and I have been waiting eagerly to see him in person.I caught a few glances of him during the ceremony and at the reception. As we got up to leave and tell his mom goodbye, he was cuddled in her arms. She showed him to me in his little tux- with his shiny soft sweet red baby hair. The same color as my Faith's own hair. For a moment my breath caught in my throat as I remembered stroking her hair at the nape of her neck. I wanted to reach out and stroke his soft hair, but I held my hand back, tightly clinching my fist. I said my goodbyes and began the long ride home, thinking of my family waiting for me at the house, and the little one that is not in our midst.On another note, returning to work has been both joyful and difficult. Another thing that feels so bittersweet. I love the interaction with other adults and I enjoy the work that I do.... but it is difficult to be away from the family so much, especially spending two nights a week closing. It feels like I dont even see Ethan and Olivia on the days that I close, and by the time I get home Cliff is in his own routine- getting ready for bed and winding down. I am really struggling with the adjustment and although I am able to talk with people all day long... there are moments that I feel so alone.The feelings dont always weigh me down and I do have so many moments to laugh and smile and enjoy myself...But the other moments are there too.Moments when my heart is heavy, moments I dont know how to muster through... but I do. I push on, wondering when I will no longer have moments that feel like this.I guess the reality is that there will be many bittersweet moments to come in this life.
I have to learn to manage them, accept them, and face them. And this is what I am not sure how to do.

Back in the groove

I am heading back to work on Monday and I am pretty nervous. I am also excited to be getting back to it... becuase I am happiest when I am busy and work keeps me very very busy.( not to mention all that social interaction!!!)
I am not quite the same person I was before I went out. I am now the mommy of three beautiful children and have once again got to practice some life skills that involve very little sleep, a crying person( a little one- but still crying!) and the fine art of communication. The practice of these life skills has given me a little bit more confidence when it comes to dealing with people( if i can learn to please and satisfy a baby that can't speak a word- imagine my newfound communication skills i can apply at work:) But also, there is another part of me that is not quite the same.I haven't seen most my co-workers in 11 1/2 weeks. The last time they saw me I was eight months preggo and exhausted! I cannot tell you what condition I was in when I went to work- including weither or not I was wearing contacts OR MAKEUP( oh the shame of it all! but seriously- at that time i did NOT care) I have lost all of my pregnancy weight( yippee!) but lets face it- I am not the skinny mini Barbie I once was- not even close.
So I took a deep breathe, winced as I pulled out the debit card and I went shopping! I got new clothes, new shoes, and made a last minute decision to get new hair. I wanted to go back to work and make a statement which is not "stay at home mom for the last 3 months- do these dress pants come in a stretchy cotton material like the sweat shorts i have on now? Will they go with flip flops?" but what I wanted to say is: " I am woman hear me rawr!" ( and not in a bra burning kind of way- but more of a" I am a professional and a hot mama!)
SO I did go a little more edgy with my hair- something that used to be typical of me back in my college days but not so much so in the last four years .....
I have decided I really like it- it looks FRESH!
Now if i could just get rid of the nervous jitters in my stomach and gain a calmness that matches my posh exterior... wink....

My new hair.........

And for those of you that are wondering just what two of the delights of my heart are up to... well here are a few photos taken this week.

here is Olivia on her daddy's lap

and Ethan trying to wear his dad's shoes.........

14 months

Dear Faith,
Today you would be 14 months old. It is hard to picture what you would be like now. Perhaps an active toddler ambling around with spritely red curls and determined green? eyes. The truth is that its gotten increasingly harder these last few weeks without you. It all started about August 16th, your original due date from one year ago... of course this was the expected due date before we found out you were so sick.... and becuase of your sick body you came to us so much sooner. I think what really gets me down is when I start to think about some of the things that people say or imply about you and remembering you. I try not to listen to these things...try not to let others influence me... and I have to ask myself why they feel so compelled to try to influence the way I grieve when they have never lost a child themselves.... the truth is, baby girl, that part of this world wants me to just move on, to quit mourning you. They say I should remember you with joy only and be happy that you are in heaven with no more pain. And if I cant remember you with joy, perhaps its best to tuck your memory away. At the very least, I shouldnt be sharing it with the world. I should be living only for my living children.And it is my great hope that I can someday remember you with just the joy of knowing you... and not the pain of being seperated from you...But sometimes I wonder if that is a bit of a lofty goal? I keep trying though, becuase it is easier to live with courage and pray for God's strength than to throw the towel in. And how could I ever tuck your memory away??? Weither a child is alive or dead, as a parent, I think of each of my children a thousand times a day. My love for you didn't die with you.I watched a movie this last week called" We Are Marshall" It is a movie about grieving, about learning to live life after tragedy, having courage to move forward, and ultimately about creating a legacy and honoring the dead.( in the movie this came after many years)One of the characters tells the father of a boy who died in the movie " Nothing's going to change until you have the strength to face your pain." I had to stop when I heard that statement and really think about it. It reassured me that I am doing the right thing by remembering you and helping to create a legacy for you. It really hurts that you aren't here with me.... but I will continue to live life like a broken record if I don't face that pain and let your presence in my life change me into a better person. A more compassionate person I hope.. and more courageous too.One of the feelings that is hardest to live with and understand is the feeling that I can't do enough to take care of you. You have been gone almost 14 months and I still have such strong feelings that I need to take care of you. I still don't know what to do with those feelings but I try to pour them into other things. I ask myself how I am supposed to take care of a baby that isnt here( toddler now) and I don't have an answer to give myself. This is when I spend time working in your garden.... or pouring though your photos... or I start a new project around the house( like cleaning out the closet a few weeks ago.)Its been 14 months and the pain isnt any less... isnt any easier..... but I am learning how to deal with the pain.... and that is a start towards that lofty goal I have I guess.We still talk about you everyday. When Ethan and I pray at night we thank God for the time you were here. We show Olivia your photos and tell her a little about you. Someday we will share your full story with her when she is older. I will always wonder what life would be like for us if you were here... dream of being able to watch all three of my children grow..... and hope that I am honoring your memory in the best ways that I can.I love you so very very very very much dear one. kisses to you from afar.
Love, yours,mommy

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