Tuesday, January 9, 2018

January 9, 2018

January 9, 2018

Five years. F I V E years!? How can that be? I don't need an anniversary to remind me how much I miss you or how long you've been gone. I just need space this day, to love you, to cry, to love our family as gentle and sweetly as I can, because that is what you are to me: pure, precious LOVE.
What this day reminds me of mostly is how much I wish I could hold you again, to feel your arms around my neck, to hear your sweet voice say Mama, or I love you. I'd give almost anything to have that just once more. So today, I will bake. I will cook. I will smile and say sweet things to your sisters and to Daddy, out of my everlasting love for you Madeleine.
See you in a wink my love. And please visit me in my dreams. Kiss kiss Squishy.

Sunday, December 24, 2017

Christmas Eve 2017

On this Christmas Eve, I am tucked into my humble little home immensely grateful. I lay next to my sleeping infant, healthy and breathing so soundly in dreamland. I give my girls breakfast and enjoy the chill of the air next to the sweet smelling Christmas tree. It's hard to imagine Just 6 short years ago we were nowhere near this calm and peace, but overwhelmingly more grateful; I was finally able to hold and nurse my tiny 2 month old baby Madeleine after her first brain surgery. How unimaginable! So stressful! Indescribable in words the emotional weight and complexity of those days surrounding her first Christmas.
How we miss her and do not miss those days- we do our best to block the pain of that turmoil. But today, I remember to give reverence to the blessings surrounding me this day. And to acknowledge the thousands of parents today in hospital rooms, surgical waiting rooms, or mortuary rooms giving every ounce of themselves for their child fighting for a life too short lived, praying to God for more time. I honor and respect them, pray for their children and their journey. Give thanks this Christmas for your blessings and truly remember life is worse for someone else out there. Love yours and tell them, for another Christmas is not promised.


Please excuse typos. Sent from my iPhone

Thursday, July 7, 2016

Thinking of you

Thinking of this beauty so much the last two days. Thinking of how am I honoring her life, her memory, now and in the future. I think Annalise does the best job at this. She's not afraid to. She honors her every single day, out loud, for anyone to see. Mine is more private, and still painful. I try to press on every day. I can't change her leaving, and I haven't accepted that. I'm stuck. Between pain and hope.
Madeleine, my love for you is so so strong. I try to imagine you running around with bouncy curls as a 4yr old. I wish these could stay happy thoughts, but it crushes me. And in your physical absence you make me a better person. I know you are with me, you see me, you touch me, comfort me. This is an never ending journey and challenge. Love Never Ends.

Monday, April 18, 2016

I'm dying to blog again!

It has been a long time. Too long. And it's not that I have a ton of time, because I don't; it's the therapeutic and hopefulness aspects that I miss.

When Madeleine was first diagnosed, it was before our Facebook group of AT/RT parents, before her diagnosis actually, when I was researching the many "rare" brain tumors and I stumbled across a blog (I will not mention their name). As a parent looking for hope, I felt my heart literally being tortured; being pressed through a grater and ripped to shreds as I read about this sweet blue-eyed boy and his father's immense sorrow in losing him. I pressed on, because I thought there has to be some sunlight in this very dark place I was reading. Nope... there may have been one or two small rays of light, but for the most part it was just ANGUISH. Debilitating heartbreak. I pulled myself away but clearly, have never forgotten this man's account of loss.

I made a decision. Although I too feel how this father felt, and there are times that I want or need to let something out, I need to focus on the HOPE. For me personally, if I spend too much time in the hurt, it doesn't benefit me or the living children I have that need me. There are too many obstacles in this life that command one's attention in the present to live in the hurtful, debilitating past. I see it this way: I have kept the best of Madeleine with me. I wear her memory daily and I speak to her daily; my daughter talks to her and about her daily; her smile is a focal point each and every day. I have chosen to love her and let that love warm my skin like the sunshine that she is on a sunny day.

From this sunny day in Los Angeles, I have decided to write again. I may change the name of the blog, but M will always be a HUGE part of who I am and the identity of our family. She is still very much a part of each of us, of our daily life, and who we are all learning to become as individuals. So in Madeleine's honor, we will press on.