Love at Daybreak

We sit together on the couch and she starts playing with my hair. Stroking it with her tiny fingers. She leans in close and whispers how beautiful I am.

Laughing I shoot and miss. Again. With a black controller in my hand I tell him how good he is at this game. He beams and patiently shows me once again- 'A' is to pass. 'X' is to slide. 'B' is to shoot. 

She comes alongside me as I prepare dinner. She asks to help and smiles wide when I tell her to pull up a chair. Together we put this and that into the pot. Together we serve.

She waits for me in her bed with a book in her hand. I curl up beside her and she starts to read. Some words come easily, others she takes her time to sound out. With each one her confidence grows and I get to share in her joy.

Tiny everyday miracles. Moments I try hard not to take for granted.



His hair falling wild across his forehead.
Her sweet giggles as I sing her our bedtime song.
The way her socks are always mismatched.
How she'll hug my waist and rest her head against me.
His love for his baby sister.
The bracelets they make me.
The bubbles in the bath.
The wind blown hair.
The silly songs.
The laughter.
The tears.

As a mom, I am given these tiny miracles.
They are my gift.
Every. Single. Day.
Even on hard days....

Tomorrow will be one of those hard days. April 13th will mark 22 years since I lost my mom to cancer.
This day is always hard.... and yet for the past few years it has also been a day that God has used to awakened my mama heart.
It it like a beautiful messy day of grief and thanksgiving.  

Tonight, as I think about my mom and the great joy it is BE a mom, this is my prayer:

"Surprise us with love at daybreak;
    then we’ll skip and dance all the day long.
Make up for the bad times with some good times;
    we’ve seen enough evil to last a lifetime.
Let your servants see what you’re best at—
    the ways you rule and bless your children. 

And let the loveliness of our Lord, our God, rest on us"

   Psalm 90:14-17 (The Message) 

Oh God, may it be so.... Surprise my family with love at daybreak. Make up for the bad times with some good times. Let us see what you are best at. The way you rule and bless your children.

I am going to spend the day with my eyes wide open. I am going to hug tighter. Laugh longer. Listen harder. Love deeper.

And one day.....one day,  I will share these tiny miracles with her too.
xoxo

Twenty

Today Selah informed me that when she is a mommy I will be the grandma.
That made me smile.
Then she assured me that when she's a mommy she will buy me pretty earrings and necklaces.
And again I smiled.
They are so precious. The way their little minds work.

But tonight as I think over our little conversation my heart hurts...

What I would give to be able to buy my mommy pretty earrings and necklaces.
To hear my kids call her grandma.

Tomorrow marks twenty years.
Without her smile.
Her laugh.
Her wisdom.

Twenty years.
With a piece of my heart missing.

Twenty years.
Finding my own way as a woman.
Twelve of those as a wife.
Eight of those as a mom myself.

Time has not healed the pain.
It's made some of the days easier...but hasn't made me miss her any less.
In fact, I think it some ways it's made me miss her more.

It's hard for me to imagine what my life would be like with her here.
What would it be like to just call her up on the phone.
Hear her voice again.

When I allow myself to go down that road there is no stopping the tears.
I can barely see the keyboard tonight as I write this.

How can you really explain grief?
It takes shape in so many different ways at different times.
I don't think it can be contained in words.

So, I'm just going to say that I miss her.

And I'm going to cry out to the One who sees every tear that falls.
The One who doesn't need words to know exactly how I feel.
The One who comforts me on days like today.

Because I am a mess.

And to Him...tonight...that's better than a Hallelujah.
xoxo

19 Years

{Re-post from April 13th 2010}

Last night as Chris and I were falling asleep I mentioned that today would be 1819 years since I lost my mom.
1819 years. I had to let it sink in.
1819 years since I last saw her smile.
Felt her hug.
Heard her laugh.

And although I have a beautiful Hope I am still sad.

1819 years seems like a lifetime.
Sometimes the ache in my heart is so unbearable.
Sometimes I can't stop the unexpected tears from coming.

1819 years is too long.
I miss her.
What would it be like to have her here with me?
There are so many things I would ask her.
So many things I would do with her.
If I could have just one day....

A day to snuggle up next to her and tell her I love her.
Tell her I miss her more than words can say.
To hear her tell me the same.
To feel her hand stroking my hair like she use to.
To have her tell me that I'm doing ok as a mom.
That she is proud of me.
To go shopping together and stop to grab a bite to eat.
To have her play lego with my son and tea party with the girls.
To listen to her jokes.
To watch her hold my dad's hand and see them together again.
To just see her. Hear her. Smell her. Touch her.
One day....
As for today....
I am going to hug my kids a little tighter.
Snuggle up next to them and tell them I love them.
That I am proud of them.
I will play lego with my son and tea party with my girls.
I am going to hold Chris' hand and just be.
I am going to be thankful.
Be thankful that I have them.
Be thankful that I have a peace and a hope in Jesus.
He gets me through, especially on days like today.
I will be thankful that one day I will get to see my mom again.
One day.
When I finally make it home.

Her Journal

Last night we were at my dad's house and my sister showed me something extremely special.
My mom's journal.
A journal she started when she received her bone marrow transplant.
One that she wrote in just months before she died.
A journal that we didn't even know existed until last night.

She wanted to record the road to her recovery....

I started reading it and had to stop because it was just too hard to take it all in at once. She wrote about how she was feeling. She wrote about our family. She wrote about us.
I picked it up again today and am broken inside.

Reading her perspective. Imagining what it was like for her as a wife and mom, being stuck in the hospital, watching her family come and go all while feeling so sick. And just trying to be strong for all of us.
It's too much for my heart to bear.

I cried through the last half of the journal.

It's only 2 months worth of entries.
My dad said she just got too sick to finish it.
Her last entry is only half written...

------

It was her birthday this past Sunday. The kids and I sang happy birthday and talked about what a fun party she must be having up in heaven.

I don't know if it's being pregnant again, or maybe just feeling like this grief will never go away, but I've been missing her a lot lately.
Most recently I missed her at our fancy tea party. I know that it is something she would have loved. I thought of her while we fancied ourselves that morning and while we sat there sipping our tea. Man, do I miss her.

I guess I just wanted to write down what I was feeling (and will continue to do so on my blog) because I want my kids to be able to look back and read my perspective. Even if I live to be 104, I know how precious it is for a child to read something her mommy wrote. I want to leave them with the knowledge of how very precious they are to me. I want them to know how crazy this mama is for them.

Just like I know how crazy my mommy was for me.

Loss

The house is pretty quiet.
The girls are asleep, Chris has left to run a few errands and all I can hear is the soft sound of my son watching "Billy the Exterminator" on t.v.
Have you ever seen that show? Eww eww eww! :)

Anyways, I've been sitting here staring at my computer screen, writing, deleting, rewriting, then deleting some more.
Truth be told I'm a little scared.
I find myself not knowing exactly what to say....

When I was writing my "About" page, I included this:

Who am I?
I'm a girl saved by grace.
A wife to my best friend {he rocks!}
Mama to three precious littles here and three precious littles in heaven.
Just trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

Three precious littles here... and three precious littles in heaven.
Big breath.
Not very many people know that.
That I have miscarried three times.
That three of my babies were returned to heavens arms before I got a chance to hold them in mine.

When I stop and think about the fact that Chris and I actually have 6 kids, it so overwhelms my heart. The kids all know that they have three siblings in heaven who get to play with their grandma. That picture grips my heart with joy and makes me want to cry all at the same time.

Writing through my grief is good. I have written lots about losing my mom and I have always found comfort in my writing. Even before I started blogging I always wrote whatever it was that I was feeling.

But writing about my three babies is something that I have never shared on here.
Maybe because I lost them all fairly early on. And a part of me tells myself that I shouldn't feel the way I do, because I wasn't further along.

I guess I felt maybe people just wouldn't understand.
But I don't think I've given you enough credit. I'm sorry.
Especially because some of you may be walking through this too.

Our most recent loss was just a couple months ago. I think perhaps I still haven't quite sifted through the emotions of it. Most days I am fine. Truly. But I do have moments where I imagine how far along I'd be and what I'd be feeling. I imagine if they were boys or girls and how their little personalities would fit into our family.

The other day someone asked me if we were done having kids.
I joked about not being sure....but a part of my heart held tight to the grief. A part of me wanted to cry right there. While another part of me knows that it was just an innocent question- one that I truthfully don't know the answer to.

I need to just give it all to God.
My loss.
My uncertainty.
My fear.
My guilt.
Lay all my burdens down at his feet.

Live in His peace.
His perfect peace.
A peace that surpasses all human understanding.
A peace that I can truly rest in.

Because there are things that happen here on this earth that I just don't understand. But no matter what our family looks like, I know that He works all things together for good.
He will take the pieces of my wounded broken heart and put them together in the most amazing way to shine His light through.

I want Him to shine through my tears.
I want Him to be seen in my struggles.
And I want to see Him in my heart as it heals.

How do you deal with loss?

Where I'm at....

One day...

Last night as Chris and I were falling asleep I mentioned that today would be 18 years since I lost my mom.
18 years. I had to let it sink in.
18 years since I last saw her smile.
Felt her hug.
Heard her laugh.

And although I have a beautiful Hope I am still sad.

18 years seems like a lifetime.
Sometimes the ache in my heart is so unbearable.
Sometimes I can't stop the unexpected tears from coming.

18 years is too long.
I miss her.
What would it be like to have her here with me?
There are so many things I would ask her.
So many things I would do with her.
If I could have just one day....

A day to snuggle up next to her and tell her I love her.
Tell her I miss her more than words can say.
To hear her tell me the same.
To feel her hand stroking my hair like she use to.
To have her tell me that I'm doing ok as a mom.
That she is proud of me.
To go shopping together and stop to grab a bite to eat.
To have her play lego with my son and tea party with the girls.
To listen to her jokes.
To watch her hold my dad's hand and see them together again.
To just see her. Hear her. Smell her. Touch her.
One day....
As for today....
I am going to hug my kids a little tighter.
Snuggle up next to them and tell them I love them.
That I am proud of them.
I will play lego with my son and tea party with my girls.
I am going to hold Chris' hand and just be.
I am going to be thankful.
Be thankful that I have them.
Be thankful that I have a peace and a hope in Jesus.
He gets me through, especially on days like today.
I will be thankful that one day I will get to see my mom again.
One day.
When I finally make it home.

The Root

Most days I am fine.
Most days I am not even aware of it.
But some days, some days it sneaks up on me.
I will be going about my day when all of a sudden I am nearly knocked over.

By grief.

There are moments when I am frozen by it. And it seems to just cover me like a heavy blanket.
It brings me back to my little 10 year old self standing in that hospital room.
It brings me back to all the years without her.
I miss her.
I miss her more than I can possibly explain.

Yesterday I had one of those moments.
Chris and I were watching Joannie Rochette skate and I could barely breath. I watched as she dug into the very depth of herself to skate for her mom. I watched as she represented Canada and won a medal for our country. But more than all that I watched her face after it was all over. The mix of joy and grief.

I have worn that face.

I wore it on my wedding day as I got dressed in my wedding gown.
I wore it on the days each of my children were born as I held them all bundled up only minutes old.
I wear it every mother's day.
And there are surprising moments when I wear it. When I am so happy about something and then all of a sudden something reminds me of her.

Joy and grief woven together.

This afternoon as I sat in the doorway of my daughters room (she needs "encouragement" to go down for her nap) grief struck again. I was reading the book "So Long Insecurity" and got to the chapter that deals with the roots of insecurity. Here's what I read:

"If you lost a parent to cancer when you were a child, girlfriend, your search for the root of your chronic insecurity is over. You earned it. No, you can't have your loved one back in this lifetime, but you can indeed have your security back. That loss does not have to be permanent."
So Long Insecurity
by Beth Moore

And I lost it. The tears came easily and I was once again reminded that I am a part of that group. My insecurity is easily identified because I am a child who's mom died of cancer.
I hate that. I HATE IT. I hate that I can easily identify the source. Easily fit into this category.

Now, I realize that my heart is a little raw from last night, and in all honesty I can also see that God is preparing my heart. In His beautiful way He is making it abundantly clear that He wants me to say so long to my insecurity just as much as I do.

But as I walk through this process I just want to tuck tail and get outta here. This painful, facing of life. This conscious realization that maybe I haven't fully healed from losing my mom. Maybe the roots of my insecurity still need to be cut. Maybe I need to allow God into parts of my heart that I thought I already had....

I want to give it ALL to Him. All my joy and all my grief. And the twisted mix of the two. Days like today, I give to Him. I simply can't do it on my own... my heart hurts too much.

Happy Birthday Mom!

This morning my son asked me if God was having a big birthday party for Grandma up in heaven and all I could do was nod and smile as I held back tears.

"Cool" he said. "I'll bet He's giving her a Nerf Gun so that we can play together!"
Man I love that kid.

Happy Birthday Mom!
I miss you more than words can say. How I long for the day when I will be able to celebrate this special day with you again.

Dear Mom,

I miss you.
I miss your big heart.
Your easy smile.
Your beautiful face.
I miss the warmth of your hugs and the sound of your laugh.

I miss the smell of your kitchen. Always filled with fresh and tasty aromas. Thank you for giving me a love for baking. I will always remember the taste of your warm chocolate chip cookies and the time it took you to make your famous hot cross buns. Thank you for always letting us help you.
I love the fact that I bake the same way as you. Messy :)

Thank you for teaching me about what being a mom looks like. For taking the time to play with me but also to discipline me. You taught me about forgiveness and patience. Thank you for being selfless and for remembering to have fun.
Some of my best memories of you are when you would just be dancing around being silly with me. I love doing that now with my kids.

When I had each of the kids my heart ached for you. Oh, how I wanted you to meet them. To hold them and snuggle them. I wanted to see your face the first time you saw one of your kids having their own kids. I know that they would adore you and I know how you would adore them.

Oh Mom, I miss you.

As my tears fall and I close my eyes I can almost see you missing me too.
Oh Mommy, my heart longs for the day when I will see you and hug you again.

Happy Mother's Day.
I miss you today and always,

Love Sara

I Will Rise!

Today I am sad.
I am missing my mom.
I am really missing her.

Every year on this day my heart hurts.
April 13th.
It is the anniversary of the day she lost her battle with cancer.
It's been 17 years and I miss her.
I really miss her.

I am missing her smile.
Her smell.
Her laugh.
I missed her while the kids searched for Easter eggs (she was always as excited as we were to get up early and search for eggs.)
I missed her as we gathered around for Easter dinner. I could almost see the sparkle in her eye as she told a story. I could almost hear her laugh.
I missed her as I watched my kids play. I tried to imagine how she would be around my kids. I could picture her playing trains with our boy, dancing with our big girl, and cuddling with our baby.
What would her relationship with Chris look like? I am certain that he would love her, and she would love him. I can just hear her laughing at his jokes.
Oh, how I miss her! What I would give for one more day with her.

When I was growing up I hated this day. April 13th. The day I shut down. My friends all knew not to bother me on this day. I grew quiet and reserved as my heart broke. I hardly spoke. I didn't smile. I buried myself in the overwhelming feeling of grief.

This is no longer the case.
Yes, I am sad.
Yes, I miss her.
But my hope is now found in Jesus. He is the one who gives me strength to get through days like today. It is in His lap that I fall and cry my tears of sorrow. It is in His peace that I can rest. It is His grace that gets me through.....

Today I read a beautiful post by Amy and found myself crying as I read. I am so sad for her loss. I can relate to her pain. I feel it too. Especially around Easter. Especially today.

Amy shared this song on her post and I just bawled as I listened.
"I Will Rise" by Chris Tomlin.



After listening to this song I went to search for it so that I could post it here and found a video of Chris Tomlin explaining why he wrote this song. Take a listen. So beautiful.



Thank you Lord, that you have overcome!
I WILL RISE, when you call my name...
No more sorrow! No more pain!