pearls make the man

When I was a child, I had a cat named Fluffy. She was a long haired angora and was... well... Fluffy. Hence the name. *wink* For entertainment, we would take the ring from a jug of milk and tie a string to it and the Fluffster would chase me around for hours while I dragged that ring on the floor behind me. No one told me I was practicing for parenthood, but as it happens, Jack will react the exact same way when I drag a strand of Christmas tree pearls behind me! LOL!

He was absolutely fascinated with these pearls, and they kept him happy all the while I dismantled my Valentine's tree last month (yep, you read that right. I had a tree full of hearts and pearls. I know. You don't even have to say it.). After I gave them to him, I realized that it was probably not the brightest idea I've ever had (hello! choking hazard!), but I watched him like a hawk and scooped them up as soon as he was distracted for a second. In the meantime though I got a ton of great blackmail pictures. hee hee. Nothing like a shirt full of tools, some camo pants, and a string of pearls. I'd say that outfit's complete!

i am not alone

Speaking of people who left this world too soon, I'm reminded of one of my favorite comediannes of all time... Gilda Radner. I've actually been thinking about her a lot lately. I generally do everytime the Olympics roll around because I can remember laughing my arse off as a child at Gilda's recurring role on Saturday Night Live as Nadia Colmaneci. I wish I could find those videos on youtube, because they are truly hilarious. If you search for Gilda out on the 'tube, you'll find lots of funny material, but nothing that quite compares to her scrunched up little face as she eeks out "I... am Nadia COLMANECI!" Just thinking about it makes me giggle!

I was going through some papers today, working toward my never ending goal of total organization (tell me, is that even possible? I'm beginning to think not), and at the bottom of a stack of books I found the folder we received from the funeral director when we were planning Henry's memorial service. In the folder was a little booklet called Facts Every Family Should Know About Funerals, and in that booklet I found several quotes and phrases that touched my heart. I'll leave you with this one for today...

I wanted a perfect ending.

Now I've learned, the hard way,

that some poems don't rhyme,

and some stories don't have a clear

beginning, middle, and end.

Life is about not knowing,

having to change,

taking the moment

and making the best of it,

without knowing

what's going to happen next.

Delicious Ambiguity.

~Gilda Radner (1946 -1989)

the weight of grief

Well friends, it was four months ago today that we lost our sweet boy. In some ways it seems like only an instant has passed, and in other ways it seems like an eternity. One question I'm often asked is, "how are you doing?" I can't fault people for asking - it's something I'd be asking too, if the roles were reversed. It's a hard question to answer, because the answer changes mulitple times a day - sometimes multiple times an hour. The weight of grief never leaves me, however I am able to compartmentalize it from time to time if I'm distracted by a movie or a tv show or a game or what have you. In general though, I just feel... well... heavy.

It's an odd feeling, and one I've never experienced prior to November. When I move, I feel more weighted. When I exercise, it is more difficult. I can physically feel pain in joints where before there was none. Granted I have also had a small weight gain during the past four months, but I am no where near my highest adult weight, and yet at times feel as though I've surpassed it by leaps and bounds. You may have heard people use the expression that their "heart is heavy," and perhaps it's the same kind of thing, except that it has expanded to encompass my entire being.

On top of the weight, there are emotions. They come and go, generally whenever they feel like it. A few people have told me that I don't have to be strong in front of them. Somehow suggesting that I am in control of these random emotional breakdowns I have. Unfortunately, that's not the case. Triggers don't seem to give much advanced warning. Last week was especially rough for me, starting with the day I had to throw away our pumpkins. Visiting the pumpkin patch was something grandma, great-grandma, and I did with Henry every year, and I believe was the last outing the four of us had together. I had saved the pumpkins, thinking we'd carve them on October 30th. That was the morning Henry fell ill though, so the carving never happened. I didn't think much of it at the time - I figured he'd be just as happy to carve them a few days later when he was feeling better. Little did I know.

The pumpkins sat on this bench on our back porch, right where he set them, from October through the last week of February. Yes, that angel you see in the picture was there the whole time. One of many strange coincidences I've found in the past few months. So, with the weather warming a bit, the pumpkins softening, and garbage day approaching, it was time. I didn't want to do it, but I did... and then I cried. I cried long and I cried hard for about a week straight over these pumpkins, over the loss of my boy, over the senseless loss of another child in town, over milestones we'll never get to reach, over questions about the future, over the generosity of friends and family and friends we've never met. It all brought me to my knees.

As most things tend to do, it passed, and after several days I was back to my old self (which is actually my new self, all things considered). The whole experience is sad, but that is to be expected in times like these. I don't think there is any way to avoid it, and I'm not sure I want to avoid it, because I think those low times help me to cope with the loss, and to continue to look to the future.

On a lighter note, if you're a regular visitor to my blog and aren't stuck in google reader or some othe third party port, you should have noticed a major change to the way things look around here! I've spent a few days revamping my family blog. A new name (which my facebook friends should recognize from my many notes on facebook in the past four months), a new look, and a new feel overall. I'm still not entirely sure where I'm going to go with this blog, but I'm considering end of day posts on a regular basis on all sorts of topics.

Think Doogie Howser...

*grin*

Sooo...

What's all wrong with this picture?

Let's see....

1. Jack likes to take his pants off at nap time sometimes. Like this day.

2. Aaaand what's that you see just a few inches behind the pants? That would be a diaper. The diaper. As in, the one he was wearing when he got in bed.

3. Note the dark spot on the sheet near his right foot. That would be wet. And the best part is, he was fine until he saw me. I excited him. :)

4. That was my first thought anyhow... then I realized that whole half of the crib sheet was wet. *sigh*

5. Check out the big smile! He's so happy to be airing out and shooting his willy all willy nilly around the room.

As a side note, how about those ugly crib rail guards!? Jack went through a "I'll chew my way out of the crib" phase, so I improvised and tied fleece blankets over the rails with the ugliest ribbon in my collection. Fear not though, Raggedy Ann and Andy fleece is in the house, and new guards that match the nursery will be done soon.... although I think we've passed the chewing phase and probably don't even need them anymore.

It has been awhile since I've blogged, so I thought it was time for an update. We're getting through the days, trying to stay positive and focus on the future. There are very few days without tears, but we're getting through with each other.

Thanks for all of your continued prayers and support.

Gift Tags

Hey - two blog posts in two days. It's like some kind of record!

I thought I'd share these little gift bags I whipped up over the holidays. Literally the only stamping I've done in months. The tags are stamped on Kraft paper (SU!) that was cut with a nestie. I layered two different snowflake punches (Martha Stewart) and then slapped a button in the center with a little green organdy underneath. Then I stamped the paper bags to match. HA. KIDDING. I totally bought the bags that way at Hobby Lobby on clearance last winter. I had you going for a minute though, didn't I? :o)

I'm hoping to get started on a very special set of Valentine's cards soon. I'm going to get a little card ministry off the ground in Henry's name. We have to travel to the Children's Hospital in Milwaukee on a regular basis for Jack's infusions (they infuse antibodies into his bloodstream due to his immune deficiency disorder) and I would like to take a batch of cards with me each time for the two floors that have helped our boys - PICU and Cardiac. I'm thinking I'll alternate between the two, and just drop off cards that can be used by parents or children or nurses or whomever needs or wants them. I'd like to put a label on the back of each one noting that it's from this so far unnamed card ministry and maybe a link back to here or my family blog. SO, this is where you come in... what should I call it? I would like something with Henry's name in it, and I'm kinda diggin' the aliteration right now, so I'm thinking, "Hugs from Henry", "Henry's Heart", "Hope from Henry", etc. What do you think? Do you have any other ideas? Please share if you do!

One Little Word 2010: Healthy

Hi friends,
It has been awhile since I've blogged. Many of you know why, but in case someone missed the news, our whole world changed on November 2nd when my sweet boy (Henry, 3) passed away unexpectedly of an unknown cause. To make a very long story short, he and his brother had an undiagnosed immune deficiency disorder, and a bacterial infection overtook his body. He was fine on Thursday - happy, bubbly, energetic. He woke up Friday with a tummy ache and a fever, and was diagnosed with a viral infection so no antibiotics were prescribed. By Sunday night, he was basically gone. Much work was done to try to keep him alive, but they finally turned off all of the machines and pronounced him at 12:45pm on Monday. You can read more about it on my family blog (link at top right), or on my facebook page if we are friends there (if not, and you would like to be, just send me a message there).

Now, two months later, we're trying to carry on as best we can. We still have a sweet little boy here and are doing all we can to get his deficiency diagnosed (still going through testing to determine exactly what it is - agammaglobulinemia or hypogammaglobulinemia or something else entirely).

Anyhow, I'm not sure if you remember, but last year I participated in Ali Edwards One Little Word campaign. It's kind of like a New Year's resolution of sorts. The word I chose for 2009 was believe.

Back then, I said this:

I will believe.... in myself, in my talent, in the future, that this too (insert current dilemma here) really shall pass. That everything has a purpose, and that I have the strength and the stamina to get through anything. My first idea for a word was simply "be", but I think I like this better. I will not only be, I will believe.

...and for the most part, even given the devastation that fell on us at the end of the year, I can say I honestly did a good job of maintaining that belief. I do know that everything happens in God's perfect timing, regardless of whether it is what I want or what I will ever have the capability to understand.

Now, looking forward to the year ahead of us, I'm choosing a new word and that word is healthy.




My goal for 2010 is to live healthy in mind, body, and spirit.

Health of mind will allow me to grieve properly without casting blame on myself or dwelling in regret. It will allow me to continue loving and remembering Henry every single day, while still allowing Jack to grow and play and be the boy he loves to be without hanging the shadow of his brother or his illness over his head. It will allow me to grow as an individual, and be open to the opportunities in front of me to use this experience to help others whether through the use of Henry's memorial fund, moral support, or witnessing the grace of God.

Health of spirit will support my desire to continue growing in my faith and walking closer to God. I have never felt closer to Him than I do now, and look foward to that relationship developing and growing over the coming year.

Health of body will give me the motivation to take care of myself, even on those days when getting out of bed seems insurmountable. It will encourage me to live smarter and healthier. To cook more and order out less. To eat my vegetables. To drink my millk. To exercise and continue working towards my weight loss goals.

In 2010, I will be healthy.

What about you? What is your one little word for 2010? I'd love to hear about it.

Are you scared?

Here is Jackie at 19 mos in a cute little shirt his grandma bought him for Halloween. In case you can't read it, it says, "I may be cute but I still bite." Darrin snapped this picture of him, and I just love the face he's making. Totally works with the shirt, don't you think?!

Poor little guy is living in a padded world right now. We're so sensitive to every little cough or sigh with him, but he sure has done a lot for us both in terms of keeping us both sane over the past month.

The Legend of the Dragonfly

One of my childhood friends sent a gift to me after Henry's passing. Included with the dragonfly themed gift (she said this photo was her inspiration), there was a sheet of paper enclosed. The story on that paper has brought me so much comfort over the past few weeks, I wanted to share it here with all of you.

The Legend of the Dragonfly

In the bottom of an old pond lived some grubs who could not understand why none of their group ever came back after crawling up the lily stems to the top of the water. They promised each other that the next one who was called to make the upward climb would return and tell what had happened to him.

Soon one of them felt an urgent impulse to seek the surface; he rested himself on the top of a lily pad and went through a glorious transformation which made him a dragonfly with beautiful wings. In vain he tried to keep his promise. Flying back and forth over the pond, he peered down at his friends below. Then he realized that even if they could see him they would not recognize such a radiant creature as one of their number.

The fact that we cannot see our loved ones or communicate with them after the transformation which we call death is no proof that they cease to exist.

Henry's Memorial

The night before Henry's memorial service, I printed and put together photo boards to share at the service to give people a glimpse into his little life. I thought I'd make a Smilebox to share them here, too, for those who were unable to attend due to distance or other commitments. There are 142 photos in the slide show, so it will probably take you some time to go through if you're interested. I tried to get it in chronological order, but I think a few are out of order still. Also, note that these are only pics we've taken since we got a digital camera (plus a few early ones that had been scanned). There were additional pictures at the service that had been taken with film that I don't have here:

Make a Smilebox slideshow

We chose three songs for the funeral. The congregation sang Children Of The Heavenly Father, and then we played two contemporary songs. The first was Brad Paisley's When I Get Where I'm Going. I chose that song specifically for the opening lyrics. The part about how he lands next to a lion and runs his fingers through its mane. I could just visualize Henry doing that - he loved animals sooooo much! The second song was Chris Cornell's I Promise It's Not Goodbye. I just loved that song the first time I heard it. It was as if it was written just for us. Be sure to click over and listen if you're not familiar. I find myself humming the first verse often when I'm feeling down, and imagine Henry singing it to me.

In addition to the songs, we shared this poem:

They say memories are golden well maybe that is true.
We never wanted memories, We only wanted you.
A million times we needed you, a million times we cried.
If love alone could have saved you you never would have died.
In life we loved you dearly, In death we love you still.
In our hearts you hold a place no one could ever fill.
If tears could build a stairway and heartache make a lane,
We'd walk the path to heaven and bring you back again.
Our family chain is broken, and nothing seems the same.
But as God calls us one by one, the chain will link again.
Author unknown

Hubby and I also each wrote a letter to Henry that the minister read during the service. I'll close with my letter below:

My dear, sweet, Henry… my little Bug…

There are so many questions I have and so few answers. So many dreams I had for you and for all of us that will never come true. So many games we haven’t played so many zoos we’ve yet to visit. I had grand plans to take you to every zoo in the country, one by one until you tired of them. We’d walk hand in hand as we always did, and you’d giggle and say, “Run, Mama! Run with me!” while tugging at my arm. At first I’d resist, but then give in as I did every single time. Your smile was incredible, and I spent the last three years doing whatever I could to bring it out. I will never forget your laughter or your smile, or your kind soul that was so mature for a child your age. I promise you I will never forget how to be silly, and will one day run and roll and tickle and play with you in Heaven just as we did every day here on earth.

Two years ago, I was pregnant with your brother Jack, and as much as I was looking forward to another wonderful little boy to love, I was terrified that something would go wrong during his delivery, and I would pass on, leaving you far too soon. Never could I ever imagine that you would be the one leaving me. Two days before I gave birth to your brother, I wrote you a letter. Something I wanted you to have in case I didn’t make it through that c-section surgery. In that letter, I wrote, “From day one, you have meant the world to me. I’ve often told your Papa that you are my heart and it is the truth. All of the love I have is wrapped up in you. In your smile, your laughter, even in your cranky side! I am constantly amazed with you, and you have made every day of your life a joy for me, and I could never want for more. Thank you for blessing me with your presence, and as I’ve told you since the day you were born – ‘no matter what happens know that Mama loves you and she’s never very far away’.

I whispered those words – Remember, Mama loves you and she’s never very far away – in your ear when I had to lay you on the light table for your jaundice the day after you were born. I repeated the same thing time and again these past three years whenever I had to be away from you for more than a few hours. Whether you were spending the night at grandma’s house, or going on an adventure with Papa. Last weekend as I held your hand in the hospital and the Flight for Life crew prepped you for your first helicopter ride, I kissed you gently and whispered those words again. Mama’s never very far away. And then I got in my van and raced Papa and myself down to Milwaukee to be at your side.

Even though you are looking down on us from heaven now, I want you to know that I am still right here, not very far away. If you need me, you know where to find me, and you can snuggle up at my side whenever you need to… just like always. I love you every bit as much today as I did the day you were born – even more, if that’s possible. I spent nine and a half months carrying you in my tummy, and will spend the rest of eternity carrying you in my heart and in my memory.

I miss you like crazy, I love you to pieces, and I promise you I will see you again, and we’ll tell your favorite stories, over and over and never be parted again.

All of my love, kisses, and tickles, sweet boy.
Mum

As you danced in the light with joy, love lifted you.

As you brushed against this world so gently, you lifted us.

T.C. Ring

My Sweet Angel

As you may or may not have heard, my hubby and I lost our three year old son one week ago. His death came quickly, almost without warning, and we're still at a loss as to what caused it (though H1N1 has been ruled out). We are absolutely devastated. Nothing is the same without our sweet boy, and it never will be again.

Please continue to pray for our family. To lift the pain and guilt (not because we caused the death, but more because we feel like we should have been able to prevent it) from our hearts, and for the ability to find some form of comfort in the years to come as we wait to be reunited with our little Bug.

For those who are wondering, we are doing as well as we possibly can be, given the circumstances. Jack is a godsend to us. Without him, I really don't know what would get us out of bed every morning. We are pouring our love and attention into him, and trying to keep the memory of Henry alive by talking about him daily and remembering all of the happy times.... which were basically ALL of the times, because he really was the happiest, most joy filled child I've ever known. Jack is obviously too young to understand. He looks for his brother every day. He waits by the back door for him, searches Henry's bedroom, checks behind doors, and stares out the window. All things he never did before.

Our little Henry was 3 years, 4 months, and 9 days old when he left us for Heaven. God bless him and keep him until we see him again.

Thank you all for your support during this difficult time. ((hugs))