tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2559510122226774982024-03-13T00:16:15.572-04:00Finding Our WayFinding Our Way -
learning to live life, as grieving parents of not one, but now two, of our three children.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.comBlogger332125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-90140957532863703402014-05-04T16:42:00.001-04:002014-05-05T14:02:59.672-04:00International Bereaved Mother's DayToday marks the 4th annual International Bereaved Mother's Day. A day that I never knew even existed until this morning, when it popped up on my Facebook feed. And I surely wish that this day didn't exist for so many of us moms.<br />
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After doing a bit of research, I found that this day falls exactly 1 week before Mother's Day each year. My take from the research I've done regarding this day, is that today is a day marked as a reminder to those who are<i> not</i> bereaved mother's, to remember those of us who are.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">~~~~Remember~~~~ </span></div>
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A bereaved mother, is <i><b>still</b></i> a mother.<br />
She <span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>always</i></b></span> will be.<br />
A bereaved mother will <b><i>still</i></b> face Mother's Day each year. </div>
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Another Mother's Day without their beloved children. </div>
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Another day in which we are reminded of the precious lives that we have lost.<br />
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This is a day that should not have to be. In fact, it kind of makes me sick to my stomach. International Bereaved Mother's Day should <span style="font-size: large;">never</span> have to exist. No mother should ever have to bury her child/children. It just should not be. It's not suppose to be this way. But sadly it is this way for many us.<br />
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Over that last 4yrs I have 'met' so many mothers who have had to lay their children to rest. For the most part, I think we all feel the same at some point and time throughout this gut wrenching journey. We have felt and still are feeling the greatest loss of all. None of us wanted to ever know this feeling. Some can hold tight to their faith. Some grasp for small shards of faith. Others lose their faith completely. All of us struggle daily. We wrestle with the emptiness that consumes us each and every day. We are all familiar with the "mask" which we put on every morning. It's become routine. We do it in order to suit other people. We do it for their comfort. We do not do it for ourselves. We all have that look within our eyes. Some people will fail to see it. Others have to look very deep to see it. And then there are some who can see it from afar. We show our pain through our eyes. It's always there. No matter the mask we wear for the day. Our pain is there, it shows within our eyes. We can even see it ourselves while looking into a mirror. We feel we have aged a thousand years. We are exhausted beyond comprehension to others. We feel as if we have failed at the greatest job a woman can be given. And we all feel the same apprehension when Mother's Day approaches each year. We are stung with reality again. The reality that our lives no longer celebrate days/holiday's/hallmark days/birthdays with all of our children. The day turns into being bitter sweet. On the sweet side, we ARE mothers. We will ALWAYS be mothers. The bitter side, we can no longer enjoy and celebrate this day with all of our children. We are left with memories that we will cherish for the rest of our lives.<br /><br />Today, I am thinking of all you moms who walk this journey. We walk it together and we are the only ones who truly understand how deep our pain is daily.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-19207847740751071002014-04-23T10:40:00.001-04:002014-04-23T10:40:53.678-04:00The Years Continue OnDusting off the ole blog this week. I've gone back and forth with the idea of blogging again. I've received some FB messages asking why I no longer post here. I really had no answers for those who inquired. But today, I felt it was time. At least for this post. As I logged in, I found <span style="font-size: x-large;">21</span> posts sitting in my draft folder! I had forgotten about every single one of them. But there they sat, unfinished and of various topics.<br />
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Today is going to be a very difficult day. Harder than most of our days. 4 years ago we were told by a very harsh ER doctor, "she's dead. Your daughter is dead" My head was spinning. It was such a foggy feeling. My mom was climbing over the foot of the gurney, my dad was pulling her back. Paul was doubled over crying so hard. And I, I was standing at Carly's side. Crying while <b>screaming </b>at the doctor and nurses. <b>SCREAMING</b> at them to<b><span style="font-size: large;"> save </span></b>her. I was begging and pleading for the doctor to keep working on her. I kept hearing myself scream, "don't you stop. don't you stop." over and over. I couldn't make that doctor understand that this little girl is our baby. We love her. We can't lose her. She can not die. Its just not possible. And I kept repeating, "Fix her. Fix her. Fix her" At some point I was told, "we have given her 10 doses of Epinephrine. She's gone." I continued to argue with this doctor. I didn't back down from her. I was not going to let them give up on Carly. I got in her face as we stood beside my baby girl, looking eye to eye at this doctor..and I know the look I flashed her and the screaming I was doing straight into her face, convinced her to go ahead and push another dose of the Epinephrine. Looking back at it all now, I know she did it only to 'satisfy' the pleading of a desperate mother. That last dose. Number 11. It just didn't work. They soon called time of death. TIME OF DEATH. Oh my gosh, those are 3 of the very worst words I've ever heard. It meant the end. Finality.<br />
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I sat down in a chair behind me. I was in complete shock. A feeling came over me as if I were in a dream. I felt as if I had stepped outside of my body. Some man, (hospital staff in street clothes) was leaning over me from behind saying, "slow deep breaths" and he just kept saying it in a very calm and even tone, over and over and over as I struggled to catch my breath. I felt as if I wasn't in that room but as if I were outside, looking in on everything that was happening inside of that ER. The whole room was spinning out of control. People were blurry to me. I could 'see', but I couldn't. I remember glancing over to my right. A garbage can sat there. When I looked down, I realized I was looking at Carly's pink pajamas that had been cut from her body. It was without a doubt the most crazy, surreal feeling. All of a sudden I was looking down at Carly's sweet little face. The nurses had placed her in my lap. I don't recall how long I sat holding her. It was quite some time.<br />
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The dreaded time had come to call the family. Oh my gosh. How were Ashleigh and Brad going to handle this horrific news of their little sister? Ash was living and working in Kalamazoo. She was at work that day. Brad had called her to tell her something was wrong with Carly and that she was going by ambulance to the hospital. Ashleigh had been calling and talking to my mom throughout this entire nightmare. She had called several times while we were in the ER, her calls were sent to voice mail. We were sure Carly was going to be ok. Why would we think otherwise? As we left Brad at home that morning, Carly and Paul in the ambulance and me with my parents in the car. I went back into the house to try and calmly (although I was a completely crazy person at that time) reassure Brad that Carly was stable at that moment (which she was) and we'd call him later. We expected that she was going to be admitted and start extensive testing to see why she collapsed on our living room floor. We sure never imagined what our outcome would be. My dad had to break the horrifying news to Ashleigh over the phone. The poor girl collapsed on the floor at work. My brother from Illinois, who happened to be spending a few days in Michigan, was the one who came over to our house to tell Brad and bring him to the hospital. Later that day, both my brothers and my sister in-law went to Kalamazoo to get Ash and bring her home.<br />
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I can remember every single detail of that day. Even tho I felt as if I were in a fog. I remember all of it. When Brad got to the hospital, he walked into the room where we were sitting. I was holding Carly. He walked right over to where I sat holding her and stood over us. He was looking down at Carly and his face showed nothing but disbelief. I don't think he really believed that Carly had died. He just stood there staring down at her. I was crying. We were all crying. I looked up at him and said, "she's gone Brad. We lost her." As I looked at Brad, I saw his eyes turn from bright brown eyes to dark, lost and sad eyes. I've seen that very look in the mirror over the past 4yrs., while looking at my self. Looking back at that day now, I wish he'd never come into that ER room where we were. Carly did not look like anything other than a sleeping little girl, in my arms, where she often was. How confusing for Brad to see his little sister who looked as if she were just resting peacefully in my arms.<br />
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April 23, 2010. 4 years ago today, we lost our sweet little Carly. How in the HELL did this all happen? Within 1 <span style="font-size: x-small;">1/2</span> hrs our world blew all to pieces. Life forever changed. No longer would we be the people we were before this day. We would become different people. People we no longer recognized. People we didn't want to know...let alone be.<br />
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Many readers already know that we no more than took a breath and we were faced with another horrific nightmare. We lost our son, Brad and our home just shy of 18 months after losing Carly. I wont get into much of the circumstances/details involving Brad's death, because this day is the day that we forever lost our sweet little Carly. And the day our lives took a downward spiral.<br />
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Throughout the past 4 years, we've struggled. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically. We have hit rock bottom and thought for sure we could fall no further. Wrong! (Advise: Never think you've hit rock bottom. Trust me, there is always further down you can fall.) Paul was injured at work. He filed a workers comp case and the following day he was fired. His former employer then turned around and fought Paul's unemployment and won. We were left with no income. Nothing. Yet we still had a mortgage, car payment and so on...We were forced to get into our retirement money. Depend on help from my family. And had a few FB friends who wanted to help us and sent enough money to pay our electric bill for a month. Of course we both felt like complete and utter failures yet again in this unbelievable life that just seems to continue to knock us down.<br />
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How are we doing today? Paul did find a job. A fairly decent one. We are hopeful that we'll soon be getting back on more stable ground, financially. Emotionally, our days are long and exhausting. We struggle with sleep each night. We are forgetful. (Except for days like today, in which case we can remember every single thing/detail that went on.) We have mood swings. Oh my gosh, do we have mood swings. We can go from one extreme to the next, in no time at all. And we're still pissed off. We feel quite often as if we teeter on the edge of sanity. Grief is ever present. It's a constant battle that never leaves us. Some days worse than others. Some days not as bad as the day before. But it's there. Always there. We still cry everyday. We are very broken and know that we will never be whole again. We are forced to be changed into different people and we try everyday to let this change just be. But it is not easy and out of nowhere, before we know it, BAMM...we turn around and there we are again, staring grief in the face.<br />
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Grieving parents hear so many cliches. Oh my gosh we get so tired of hearing them. Its as if those cliches are forced on us. Don't get me wrong, we know most are given by well meaning people, who just have nothing else to offer. Who have no words to really say, other than what they've always heard others say. But for those who have had to bury their child/children, no matter which cliche you happen to say, makes no sense to a grieving parent. And for us personally, it offers no comfort. We are slowly learning to let these cliches go in one ear and out the other.<br />
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~The following are a few of the many cliches we've heard over the last 4 years~</div>
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<i> Everything happens for a reason</i>. <i>God has a plan</i>. <i>She is in a better place</i>. <i>She is free from pain</i>. <i>Things will get better</i>. <i>Life gets easier</i>. <i> Life goes on</i>. <i>She's in the arms of Jesus</i>. <i>She's dancing with the Angels</i>. <i>Oh what a glorious place she's in now</i>. <i>I can't even imagine</i>...and on and on and on.<br />
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Well you know what? <b>Everything happens for a reason</b> is a bunch of bull when it comes to the loss of a child. There is no good reason for a child to pass on before a parent.<br />
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<b>Gods plan</b>. Ha! It ain't working so well for me...what kind of plan rips children from the arms of a loving family?<br />
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<b>A better place</b>. Really?!?! How do YOU know that? Have you been to this place personally?<br />
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<b>Free from pain</b>? She wasn't in any pain until that split second just before she dropped over from a heart attack.<br />
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<b>Things get better</b>? Hmmm, when would that be? How is anything better after you bury your child/children?<br />
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<b>Life gets easier</b>? After 4 years, there has been no easy part of life.<br />
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<b>Life goes on</b>? Well no shit!<br />
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<b>She's in the arms of Jesus</b>. Let me ask which of your children would you like to send to Jesus today? I'm betting none of you would even consider sending your children ahead of yourselves.<br />
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<b>She's dancing with Angels</b>. She danced just fine here at home with her family.<br />
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<b>Oh what a glorious place she's in now</b>. Really? Have you been there? Again, do you want to pick one of your children to go spend the rest of<i> your </i>living days in this glorious place while you're left here? Nope, didn't think so.<br />
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<b>I can't imagine</b>....YES YOU CAN IMAGINE. Just sit down and do it. Imagine NEVER hearing your childs voice or laughter again. NEVER hugging your child again. NEVER seeing your child grow up. Imagine a forever empty place at the dinner table. Go ahead and imagine it. Everyone CAN imagine it. People just don't want to. They wouldn't dare,,,out of fear. Fear of the very fact that they too, could become one of "us" one day. I don't blame anyone for that. I really don't. We never wanted to become "us" either but here we are.<br />
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What we 'hear' when someone says those ever lovin' cliches??? <i>Suck it up. Get over it. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. It's not that bad. </i>People try to compare a stubbed toe, flat tire, bounced check, a mouthy kid or a shitty marriage and a bad day at work to our losses. Umm, really? I'm sorry but there is no comparison. None! I wish those petty problems, were what we had to deal with daily. I'd give anything! I think the one saying that irks me the very most, and I've heard so many times.... - <i> Life isn't fair, not just for you</i>. Most of the people who say that or have written/typed those words to me don't even realize how ignorant that is to say to grieving parents. Life isn't fair when you get a speeding ticket, pay 2 electric bills in one month and the electric company wont give you your money back..or even a mouthy child causing you to have a bad day, pissy doctors and teachers, frustration over health, learning and behavioral issues, and so on and so and so on...those are reasons for someone to believe that "life isn't fair". But never say that to a grieving parent because it's probably the stupidest thing anyone could possibly say! Paul and I work very hard at letting those cliches roll off us now. That doesn't mean they have any less sting to them tho. We realize that others, well they just don't get it. And that they most likely never will.<br />
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No matter how many rotten days we have. How badly we long to hold and hug our sweet little girl. No matter our anger. No matter our tear shed. We will never again know the happiness of life as we knew it before April 23, 2010. Although we do laugh and smile from time to time, behind each laugh and smile is our sad reality of our new and unwanted life. As badly as we'd like to go back to April 22, 2010, the very last day the 5 of us were a happy and <b><i>whole</i></b> family, before we were suddenly broken. We know that we cant. So here we stay as<i> the years continue on</i>.<br />
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(My Facebook friend made this for me. Thank you Ena!)</div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-32468156132788862692012-07-04T15:00:00.000-04:002012-07-04T23:36:41.240-04:00Treasure Each Moment<br />
...July 4, 2009 was the last 4th of July we had with both Brad and Carly. We had such a good time that year. With the exception of Brad nearly blowing off his finger while setting off bottle rockets :/ Ashleigh wasn't with us that year, she was with friends, on vacation in California. But, July 4, 2009 was the first, and sadly the last year that Carly used Sparklers. She was in awe of them. :)<br />
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So, as we go about our day today, our hearts will remain heavy. Missing both of those kids more than I could ever attempt to explain to anyone. Wishing more than anything we could do Sparklers with our sweet girl again this year and each year after. Wishing Brad was here, he'd be in his glory this year, now that Fireworks are legal in Michigan.<br />
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We will be heading to my brother and sister inlaws house (where we were in 2009) today and having fireworks there as well. It's going to be tough, I'm sure, but we will be surrounded by family, who will, I'm sure, be feeling our losses as well. And we'll be missing Ashleigh too. But, our hearts rest easy knowing she is happy with life aboard the USS Eisenhower. They are docked in Palma, Spain for the next several days. Boy, is she one excited Sailor!<br />
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Enjoy your July 4th 2012. Be safe. And always remember, <i>Treasure Each Moment</i>, make lots and LOTS of memories...one never knows what tomorrow may bring. <br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-43399638387797980222012-07-02T16:11:00.000-04:002012-07-02T16:11:23.505-04:00I've been MIA for quite some time in bloggy land. Haven't known what to say. Even tho., I have a lot to be said. But, sometimes it's best just to keep things quiet. At this point, I'm really unsure as to how much I will blog throughout the summer months.<br />
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I've been having MUCH anxiety the past several weeks due to health issues, the new house, Ashleigh being deployed, Brad's death investigation, missing Brad, missing Carly. Taking criticism from strangers online who send me private messages and emails telling me how I'm so venomous. Seriously? I reply one time, but they blast me over and over and over. It's pretty sick if you ask me. But, whatever, I've learned that people are nasty, mean and cold hearted and some day, they'll get what's coming to them.<br />
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During the days, I'm trying to keep myself busy. Even if it means just jumping in the car and going to the store. Some days, I just have to get out of the house and away from the house. I work out in my garden quite a bit. Work in the house, trying to get it decorated in hopes of making this house feel like our home. Not a ton of success in making it feel like "home" but I'm trying. <br />
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Paul and I were talking the other day. I am so incredibly lost in life right now. I've been a stay at home mom for 14yrs. When we lost Carly, so suddenly, I was devastated..however, I did have Ashleigh and Brad home. And because of them being home, I forced myself to push forward. Then, Ashleigh left for the Navy. Brad was still home. I was pretty thankful to have him here. He kept me in check, mom wise that is. Now, I have nothing. No kids at home. And truthfully, I have no idea what I am suppose to do. Could I get a job? Probably. Not sure I could mentally handle the stress of a job right now. But, for 14yrs, my job was, "mom" and in less than 18months...my job, as I knew it, ended.<br />
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I think I'd like to get back into counseling. Even tho., I wasn't all that impressed when I was going before, but I'm so lost. And my health issues have me a nervous wreck. I now have a colo rectal doctor and I wont get into those details, but I'd be lying if I said I had no concerns. I also had biopsies done in May, checking for uterine cancer. No cancer, but some kind of growth in my uterus. My GYN is extremely hesitant on doing a hysterectomy. She said, "you need to have one, but..." Yeah, that BUT..is making me crazy. She told me she could go in and remove the growth, patch up my uterus and I could have more children. (expect Paul would need a reversal vasectomy). I'm so torn over this decision. REcently, I've had dreams about having more kids. In fact, one dream I had, I had twin girls..and I was PISSED off in my dream, because I wanted a boy, JUST like Brad and a girl, JUST like Carly. But, I know that in reality, I am almost 46yrs old, my monthly cycle is HORRIBLE and this growth needs to get out of me. I go in to meet with the GYN the end of July. I do plan to schedule a hysterectomy, but boy it has been on up and down decision process. And I'm still not 100% with doing it. Ugh..it's never freaking ending.<br />
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Paul is, well...he's surviving the best way he knows how. He has some pretty rough days. He worries about me while he's working. And he's been having some pretty bad anxiety issues too. His work has been crazy busy. He's been averaging 75-80hrs a week. Hopefully, that is about to slow down. While he's home, he tries to busy himself around the house..we have a TON to finish up, but it'll get done, some where down the road. <br /><br />Ashleigh seems to be doing really well. She deployed on the USS Eisenhower on June 20th. The ship is deployed for 9months. Her orders are only for 3months..but we all know that could change at any given time. We are able to email back and forth and we even got a phone call from the ship!! It was a pretty rough connection, but we could at least hear her voice. :) It sure made Paul and I feel so good. And knowing that life on the ship isn't bad (except the bathrooms are nasty - (she's a bathroom clean freak!) and the food "sucks"..except for the cheesecake and cobblers, she's having a good time! They are about to go into Port for a few days. Not sure if I can share that info or not. I think once they get to port, then I can! But, she is looking forward to it and she is VERY excited!<br /><br />Guess that's about it for today. I'll try to be better at blogging and not be MIA for so long!<br /><br /><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-76645970596688275492012-05-24T21:47:00.000-04:002012-05-24T21:47:25.425-04:00May 24, 1986...one has no way, to even attempt to imagine, all that can take place within 26yrs. <br />
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26yrs ago today, Paul and I were married. Two EXTREMELY young kids; I, 19 and he, was 20. Wow! But on that day, so many years ago, we never, in our wildest dreams or most horrifying nightmares, could have known how our journey together would go. Sure, we had happy times. Lots of them in fact. But man...it's been rough for a couple of years now. <br />
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Ashleigh was born and then 2yrs and 11months later, Brad was born. We had some rough times...as many young married people do. But, we were doing okay. For a while anyway.<br />
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When Brad was 2 1/2, Paul and I separated and eventually divorced. We remained divorced for 7yrs. And only because of our children, we started to heal. We would attend school events together, with the kids. Go to movies and even on vacation. At that point we decided we should give it one more try..the whole marriage thing. We wanted our kids happy. We wanted to be happy. <br />
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On December 17, 1999 we remarried. Our kids were THRILLED! Our family was whole again. Gone, were the sad looks from the eyes of our kids, who were torn apart through our divorce. The sparkle came back into their eyes. Life was good.<br />
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Paul started coaching Ashleigh's soccer team..until the girls got to "that weird age" as Paul called it. He was uncomfortable coaching middle school girls. At that point, he started coaching Brad's soccer team. I think he coached those boys throughout elementary. Once Brad hit middle school, he switched to football. Our weeknights were busy with practices. Weekends we were consumed with soccer games. Oh, but it was so fun. And looking back, we are so happy to have been so involved with the kids, their friends, the parents, school etc...<br />
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Along comes Carly! What a surprise she was. A complete and total blessing for our little family of 4. Jan., 2, 2002 was such a great day. The day our family was complete. And then we were hit with the news, "were sorry but, we think your baby has Down syndrome." We were shocked. Devastated really. This was not the way it was suppose to be. How could this have happened? What were people going to think? How would we tell people? How would our new baby be treated/accepted by others? It was rough, to say the least. But, we made it. And I'll never forget the words that Brad said to me on the night of Carly's birth. Let me back up a bit first. Ashleigh had gone from the hospital with my parents to buy a new outfit for Carly to come home in. Brad stayed at the hospital with Paul and I. Brad heard the doctor tell us, what we thought at the time, were the worst possible words a doctor could ever say. Brad saw the reaction that Paul and I had..and it kind of freaked the poor kid out. He had just turned 12, less than 2 months before Carly was born. Eventually, Paul and Brad left the hospital that night. I called home to talk to the kids and Paul. When Brad got on the phone, I was trying not to cry. Trying really hard not to be emotional. He asked me, "are you okay mom?" I said, "I just don't know what we are going to do." Brad's response, "we're just gonna take care of her mom." And at that very moment, even though I was so saddened, I knew, that once the shock wore off, we'd be okay. <br />
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3 weeks after Carly's birth, we were hit with another blow. We found out that she had a severe heart condition. She would not survive childhood without surgery, but what she needed done, was no easy task. Carly was given less than 20% chance to survive with a successful surgery. At 3months of age, she was taken from my arms, into surgery. She made it! But 13hrs later, we nearly lost her to a pulmonary embolism. She spent 3 1/2 days on ECMO. 31 days after entering UofM hospital for open heart surgery, we brought our baby girl home. Her surgeon was in awe of her. He told us, "I expected your stay in ICU to be 4-6months." She blew the minds of those doctors.<br />
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June, 2004 we were back to UofM for a second heart surgery for our sweet girl. She breezed right through it. We were discharged on the 4th morning following her surgery. We were amazed. And thrilled. We were home, happy and healthy.<br />
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Sept 2004, leukemia reared it's ugly head with our sweet little girl. We sat at UofM in total disbelief. How many times were we going to get knocked down in this life time? When was enough going to enough? How could this tiny little 2 yr old be put through 26months of chemotherapy?<br />
She had endured so much. We nearly lost her 2 times due to blood infections and once due to a round of really hard chemo that caused dehydration so severe the nurses couldn't find vitals on her. But, she came out swinging. She beat that evil cancer. She won the battle. Our family could finally get back to being a family. 26months is a long time. Lots of hospital stays. Low blood counts, = no company, no going away...being confined pretty much to home. After chemo days, we were resting pretty easily. Carly was thriving. Our family was happy. Things were good.<br />
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April 23, 2010 our life came crashing down. Our family of 5 was no more. Our lives and hearts were shattered. How could life be so cruel? How would we go on? What would happen to our family? Could we survive this life, without Carly? We thought this would certainly be the worst day of our lives. How could life get any worse? Our family was suddenly ripped apart and it all took place in 1 1/2 hrs. Our lives were turned upside down. Life as we knew it, had forever changed. We would never be the people that we were before that dreadful day.<br />
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Life was pretty difficult for us in the days and weeks and months that passed after losing Carly. We never felt so alone in all of our lives. Not just Paul and I, but Ashleigh and Brad too. People didn't know what to say, so they said nothing. Which is much harder on grieving families. We cried many tears. Felt very lost, empty, angry. Surely we had been through enough. How could this have happened? Would we, could we survive this? Carly was the core of our family. Loved beyond loved. And she was gone. Plucked, right out of the family core.<br />
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I often times worried about Paul and I. The statistics/divorce rates are out of this world, high, after the loss of a child. Would we be okay? I worried about Ashleigh and Brad too. How would they cope with the loss of their baby sister? Would they be okay? Then I'd get pissed. Dammit, Ashleigh and Brad had been through enough. Paul and I had been through enough. And now they lose their sister...we lose our daughter...total bullsh!t! Yep, that pretty much sums up my thoughts in the days, weeks and months after losing Carly. Total bullsh!t!<br />
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Some how, we were all making it through that horrific time. Making it through the best we could. The kids were doing okay. Paul and I were doing the best that we could. And I thought, just for a split second. We are going to make it through this.<br />
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BAMM!!! October 8, 2011. Paul and I left our home at 5:15pm to run to the auto parts store and grab some dinner. At 6pm, I called Brad (he was home) and asked his what he wanted us to bring him for dinner, because I wasn't going to cook. He placed his order - steak, cooked medium..baked potato and fries. At 7:30ish, Paul and I were on our way back home. My phone rang. I noticed it was my friend calling, she rarely calls my cell. I answered and she asked where I was at. And then she told me, "Joany, your house is on fire." I hung up on her and frantically started calling Brad's cell phone. I called it over and over and over and over. He never answered. I called my brother and told him he needed to get to my house. Paul and I were 20 miles away. I called one of my girl friends, who lives 3 miles from me and told her to get to my house, it was on fire. I continued calling Brad. NON STOP..he never answered. How in the HELL could this be happening? I just knew we would pull up to our home and he'd be outside with the firemen. He wasn't. Nothing but chaos once we arrived on the scene. I was in shock. We were all in shock. There is absolutely no way that this could be happening. It was like a nightmare. As I sat watching, everything seemed to be going in slow motion. Paul flipped out and ran through the police crime scene tape that was placed around our yard. He was heading to the house. He was tackled by 2 State Troopers and placed in hand cuffs. We were kept separated for a couple of hours. I just couldn't believe this was happening. Eventually, the cops let us be together. And then the devastating news, "we have found a body in the home." came crashing down upon us. My knees buckled. I could not believe what we were being told. He was gone. Brad was gone.<br />
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As I sit here today, typing this, I see that I may have veered off track of what I intended to post, but when you've lived and lost, what I've lived and lost in 26yrs, sometimes, you find yourself rambling. Memories flood your mind. Your heart. Your entire soul. Tears flood your eyes and you try desperately to remember every detail of your life.<br />
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This has been one Hell of a 26yr journey for our family. As we said our "I do's" standing in that church, we didn't have a clue of what we would face. How life would play out. The joy we would share. The heartache. The pain. The suffering. The loss. One never knows, for that matter. But I can promise you this, we never in a million years thought we'd be grieving over 2 children. That was something that never, <b>ever</b> entered our minds. It's just not suppose to happen that way. Parents aren't suppose to bury their children. As hard as each passing day is for Paul and me. We continue to put one foot in front of the other,,,even when we feel we just can't do it another day, but it's the hardest thing we've ever done.<br />
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I would like nothing more, than to turn back the hands of time. Rewind our lives to happier days. Good times, when we were a family of 5. But, I know that will never be. I can't begin to imagine having to go through this horrific time without Paul. I wish we didn't have to go through any of this, but we do.<br />
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We did nothing fancy for today. We never do. Likely because we don't know which anniversary to celebrate. This one, or the second one, or both?! I made fish, corn on the cob and baked potatoes for dinner. We ate, did the dishes and Paul was in bed by 8:15 (he works about 70+hrs a week).<br />
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Tomorrow, after Paul gets home from work, we will head to the cemetery. I bought some flowers for Memorial Day to place on each of the kids graves. We'll talk about the past 26yrs..the past 25 months. We'll talk about Brad and of our memories about him. We'll talk about Carly and all the memories we have of her. We'll stand at the foot of their graves and we'll shake our heads and we'll cry. <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-78531041916449038612012-05-14T19:41:00.001-04:002012-05-14T19:41:48.240-04:00We Made It.....as I assumed we would. Thru Mother's Day, I mean. The day started of rather gloomy for both Paul and I. By "gloomy" I mean our moods. We were neither one sure of just what to do. We headed outside, planted a tree, worked in my weed garden...<i>er</i>, I mean, flower garden. Poor garden, had no care or readiness to prepare for fall, due to the fire an all that went on. It was a mess. Still is. I'll get it done. Maybe.<br />
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As we were out working in the yard, the garage door (which was up/open) suddenly closed! Then, opened and closed again. And finally, opened and remained open. Paul asked me, "did you do that?" I had to remind him that I was in the yard with him and we watched together. It kind of freaked us both out. And we wondered, maybe, could it be our kids letting us know they were near on that day? No idea. But, Paul and I both know it happened. We saw it with our own eyes. We stood watching, in disbelief, really.<br />
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I've never been sure about receiving "signs" from loved ones who have passed. I guess I never really had an opinion, one way or the other. But more and more things keep happening around this house. One day, I'll share with you, the sign I had one morning while home alone. This sign was so clear, it made my knees weak. Weak to the point I had to sit down. It was a sign from Brad.<br />
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At any rate, I was pretty happy to let myself believe that the garage door going up and down on its own, was my two Angels, letting me know they hadn't forgotten me on Mother's Day.<br />
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The day continued and surprisingly, Paul and I were pretty at peace after the above incident. We got cleaned up and went out to an early dinner at Smokey Bone's. We ate ribs--even I did. I splurged, but still accounted for all the food I ate (I do Weight Watchers). I talked to Ashleigh for a while. And received a really sweet card from her. It made me get all teary eyed. She also gave me an hour gift certificate for a massage. She knows her mom pretty darn good, cuz I realllllllyyyyyyy need a massage right about now.<br />
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After we went to dinner, we headed to the cemetery, where I placed a hanging planter. I'm pretty sure that moms are suppose to receive on Mother's Day, but on this day, I give. I give to my two kids who were plucked out of my life so suddenly and so unexpectedly. That's just wrong. WRONG!<br />
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We ended our day by visiting my parents. I gave my mom a planter, but forgot the card! Of all days to forget a card...I pick Mother's Day.<br />
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Even though I dreaded this Mother's Day, it wasn't all that bad. I honestly do believe, that the anticipation that leads up to "special days" (holidays, and so on) is by far, much worse than the actual day itself. The dread is almost a fear that sets in. No matter how hard you try to fight it...it's there. And will be here, forever.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>*******</b></span></div>
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On a side note. I'd appreciate some really good, positive vibes this week. I have a couple of doctor appointments. One tomorrow, the 15th and one on the 17th. The 17th is actually a procedure, it's at 11am and it has my nerves rattled, to say the least. So, if you have it in your heart, I could sure use some good vibes. </div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-37454352931054990972012-05-13T00:00:00.000-04:002012-05-13T00:01:26.281-04:00Mother's Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This Mother's Day, I have a whole different take on the meaning. </div>
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Honestly, I dread the day. </div>
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Likely, no more than I dread every day.</div>
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But, this day... </div>
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The day when mother's are happily enjoying<i> </i>their day and their children. </div>
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I yearn for mine. </div>
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Missing ALL, of my kids.</div>
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And wish nothing more than to have all 3 of them here, with me, on this day. </div>
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Instead, I will visit 2 of them at the cemetery.</div>
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But, I will be thankful to be able to talk to Ashleigh on the phone.</div>
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So happy that she's just a phone call away. </div>
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Happy Mother's Day, to all who are able to enjoy their children. Squeeze those kids</div>
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just a little tighter today. One never knows what tomorrow may bring.</div>
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Happy Mother's Day to all those who grieve the loss of their children.</div>
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May we all find some sort of comfort on this day.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-32964538048712158712012-05-10T00:02:00.000-04:002012-05-10T00:02:47.380-04:00The DreamAs I blogged about the other day, May 8th was 7 months since our fire. 7 months since we last saw our son. It was a hard day. Harder than I thought it would have been.<br />
<br />
I talked with Ashleigh on the 8th. She told me about<i>, The Dream</i> she had in the early morning hours of May 8th. Brad was in it. Actually, he appeared in her dream. She told me that he walked up to her, she turned to look at him, asking him, "What are you doing here?" He was all smiles. Very happy. His response, "I'm okay, Ash." (he has called Ashleigh, Ash, since he started talking. I don't think he ever called her Ashleigh!) He went on to say, "Tell mom and dad." How about that?? It made tears run down my face. I think he actually came to her that night. <br />
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I've yet to be able to dream about Brad. I've had many dreams about Carly. They've been awful. Very disturbing. But, I've had no dreams about Brad. It makes me sad, really. However, I'm so happy that he appeared in Ashleigh's dream and that he was happy. Like Ashleigh said, "I guess there's some comfort in that."<br />
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Paul had such a hard time hearing about that dream. He cried and cried and cried, as we stood at the graves of our children. We both decided that it had to be a sign. That he must of came to Ashleigh during the night. I've never really believed in that kind of stuff before, but this is makes me rethink many things.<br />
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Sure, we've been having some pretty strong signs of Brad's presence around here. Carly's too, for that matter. But nothing like, <i>The Dream </i>that Ashleigh had the other night. <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>************</b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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I'm trying to do a blog makeover. Please pay no attention to the jumbled, under construction look!</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-53144054431110359062012-05-08T00:25:00.000-04:002012-05-08T00:25:29.911-04:00Just For Today<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><br /></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"> Just for today I will t<span class="text_exposed_show">ry to live through the next 24 hours</span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> and not expect to get over my child’s death,</span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> but instead learn to live with it, just one day at a time.</span></span></div>
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> Just for today I will remember my childs life, not just his (& her) death,</span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> and bask in the comfort of all those treasured days</span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> and moments we shared.</span></span></div>
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> Just for today I will forgive all the family and friends</span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> who didn’t help or comfort me the way I needed them to.</span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> They truly did not know how.</span></span></div>
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> Just for today I will smile no matter how much I hurt on the inside,</span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> for maybe if I smile a little, my heart will soften and I will begin to heal.</span></span></div>
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> Just for today I will reach out to comfort a relative or friend of my child,</span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> for they are hurting too, and perhaps we can help each other. </span></span></div>
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> Just for today I will free myself from my self-inflicted burden of guilt,</span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> for deep in my heart I know if there was anything in this world</span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> I could of done to save my child(ren) from death, I would of done it.</span></span></div>
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> Just for today I will honor my child’s memory by doing something with another child</span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> because I know that would make my own child proud. </span></span></div>
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span><br />
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<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> Just for today I will offer my hand in friendship</span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> to another bereaved parent for I do know how they feel. </span></span></div>
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> Just for today when my heart feels like breaking,</span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> I will stop and remember that grief is the price we pay for loving</span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> and the only reason I hurt is because I had the privilege of loving so much.</span></span></div>
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> Just for today I will not compare myself with others.</span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> I am fortunate to be who I am and have had my child for as long as I did. </span></span></div>
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span><br />
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<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> Just for today I will allow myself to be happy, </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show">for I know that I am not deserting him/her </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show">by living on.</span></span></div>
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> Just for today I will accept that I did not die when my child did,</span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> my life did go on, and I am the only one who can make that life worthwhile once more.</span></span></div>
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<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> </span></span><span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}">by Vicki Tushingham</span><br />
<br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show">Today is 7 months ago since we've seen Brad. I'm still having such a hard time wrapping my brain around this cold, hard, fact. When Paul and I left our home that night, at 5:15pm, back in October, we NEVER dreamed that we would never see our son again. At 6:05pm, I called and talked to Brad- he told me what he wanted me to bring him home from the restaurant. He ordered a steak, baked potato and fries. I asked him how his steak should be cooked. I thought rare, he corrected me with, "medium well." By 6:50pm, Brad was gone. Fire engulfed his room. Smoke filled our home. Our son, was gone. We never got to say goodbye to him. We never again laid eyes on his face. He was gone. It's hard to say goodbye to someone that you can not actually see. It's hard to say goodbye to your child whether or not you<i> can</i> actually "see" them. But for us, it was especially difficult because Brad's funeral was a closed casket. </span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show">It's so hard to try and make sense of all that has gone on in our lives over the past 25 months. Sometimes, I think that maybe it was me who died. Maybe I'm looking down over my family. Or, maybe I've been in a coma for the past 25 months. I mean, seriously, how can this be happening? Not once, but twice. </span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show">So, <i>Just For Today</i>, I will try extra hard...but I can't make any promises for the days, months, years to come. </span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="caption" data-ft="{"tn":"L"}"><span class="text_exposed_show">I miss my son. I miss my daughter. I miss the way my life used to be. I miss the 'old' me. I just can't get to know this 'new' me. And sadly, dammit, there is not one single thing I can do to change any of this.</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-34680145446732539472012-04-27T16:50:00.000-04:002012-04-27T16:50:11.031-04:00"Having One Of Those Days"...was my reply to Paul's question of how my day was today. He asked me, "Aren't they all,<i> one of those days</i>?" Sadly, we both said at the very same time, "Some days are just plain worse than others." And today would be,<i> One Of Those Days</i>.<br />
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I woke up this morning, not wanting to get myself out of bed. I had to, the dog wanted out. I dragged myself up, got dressed and headed out the door. As I walked the dog around the yard this morning, I was in awe of everything that has gone on in our lives the past 2 years. I walked the yard, and memories came flooding back. Of Brad, as a little boy and how he played for hours in the yard. I walked past his beloved truck. And my heart ached. He loved that old pickup truck of his. And then the memories of Carly playing in her sandbox, which is till in our backyard - along with all of her other outside toys :( starting running through my mind. Dandelions in the grass, break my heart. She loved to pick them and then, when they were ready, she got a huge kick out of knowing she could blow them. Memories are good, but they are painful at times. Today was one of those times.<br />
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This afternoon I had to run some errands. I pulled into the drive thru, to do some banking and the song below came on the radio. It's the song Brad's buddies picked to have played at his funeral. I sat in that drive thru crying my eyes out. I miss my son. I can't believe he is gone. I can't believe that we still have no answers. I can't believe we are a part of a on going criminal investigation. I just can't believe any of this. <br />
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After the banking, I headed to the cemetery to visit both of my kids. As I stand at their graves and I feel sick. Sick over what could have been. Sick over what should have been. Sick that I'm standing at the foot of the graves of two of my kids.<br />
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After pulling myself together, enough to drive. I headed to the grocery store. Which I HATE! Anxiety hits me hard while at the store. I've been told, it's very common with grieving parents. If I could order all our food online, I would avoid grocery shopping all together. I walk the isles like a freaking zombie..I forget everything I need. All I can think about is getting the heck out of the store and getting back home.<br />
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While driving home from the store, I find myself daydreaming. The events of April 23 2010, play through my mind like it just happened yesterday. October 8 2011 pops into mind too. The phone call my girlfriend made to my cell phone to tell us of the fire. My constant, repeated calls to Brad's cell phone. Calling my brother, my friend and my parents..asking them to get to our house. Driving down our road and seeing the fire trucks, ambulances and police cars. They are a vivid and constant thought in my mind. I can play that night out like it just happened. These are not good memories. Not at all. But there really is no way around them. We have to go through them. And know that they will never leave us. The horror of both those days will live with us for the rest of our lives.<br />
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As I returned home this afternoon, I pulled into our driveway and this song came on the radio. We didn't play this song at Carly's funeral. I didn't feel "Party In The USA" was appropriate for her funeral. This was one of Carly's favorite songs. She called it the "butterfly song", due to the lyrics within the song. <br />
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Of course, my tears streamed down my face again. Oh my gosh, Carly loved this song. If it came on the radio while she was sleeping in the car, she would wake up almost instantly and start singing and bopping in her car seat. Without fail, she would wake up! It was pretty funny to see. Oh my gosh, I miss that sweet little girl.<br />
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Tonight, Paul and I are having a low key night of homemade pizza and staying at home. I've cried enough today and I'm ready for this day to end. I'm so tired of having another, <i>One Of Those Days.</i><br />
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**hopeful the video's posted right. This new way to post thing, has me a bit confused**<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-24490606812975732952012-04-23T08:45:00.000-04:002012-04-23T08:53:24.878-04:00April 23Is one of our most dreaded days.<br />
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Hard to wrap our brains around the fact that we no longer are able to enjoy this sweet little girl, every day.<br />
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The "experts" on grief say that the hardest part of grief, comes in the second year. We wouldn't know that for certain. Why? Because we lost Brad right smack dab, in the middle of our second year of grieving for Carly. I can tell you, as I forced myself out of bed this morning...which I do every.single.morning, just so I can let the dog outside, I replayed Carly's last day on this earth, inside of my head. It left me feeling sick.<br />
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We have no words to describe how very, very much we miss this little girl. Sure, we can tell you what we miss..but how we feel about missing her, just can not be described. We miss her so much, it comes from deep, deep down inside. We miss her laughter. We miss her voice. We miss her mischievous ways. We miss her curiosity. We miss playing with her. We miss teaching her. We miss watching her grow. We miss watching her learn. We miss her physical being. We miss her hugs. We miss her laying between us each and every night...hogging the ENTIRE bed! And even tho., I can tell you everything that we miss about her, I can not describe the pain that is within us on a day to day basis.<br />
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I hate the date, April 23. Hate what that day became for our family. In my eyes, it was the day that started the very downward spiral of our lives. Nothing will ever be as it was before that day. Life as we knew it, has forever been changed. Paul and I are no longer the people we once were and we realize, we will never be the same. Ever.<br />
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Today, Paul is home from work. Thankfully. I was concerned about being all by myself today. He didn't tell me he was staying home, until last night, when I started to make his lunch for today. So, later on today, we are heading to the cemetery to visit <i>both</i> of our children. Leave flowers for this sweet little girl, who is "The Music In Our Hearts, Forever." (words inscribed on the back of her headstone.)<br />
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Although Carly is no longer on this earth, our love for her remains,
strong and deep. We will love her until the end of our days.<br />
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My hope for today is that Brad has Carly on his lap, wrapped tightly in his arms. And that they both, feel the love that Paul, Ashleigh and I have for them, today and forever. <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-72705867521011461612012-04-05T09:00:00.002-04:002012-04-05T09:00:14.312-04:0010 Years Ago...today, our family faced what we thought would be the most difficult time in our lives.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">April 5, 2002.<br />Carly was taken back to surgery at 7am.<br />Open heart surgery.<br />Surgery that would last about 6yrs.<br />A surgery that no doctors were confident about doing.<br />Odds were stacked against her.<br />She had less than a 20% chance to come out of it alive.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7FuMvR2v5go/T3ukau_aivI/AAAAAAAACR4/VjQwJ59pHnM/s1600/CARLYS%2BVIDEO.jpg"><img alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7FuMvR2v5go/T3ukau_aivI/AAAAAAAACR4/VjQwJ59pHnM/s320/CARLYS%2BVIDEO.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ss5sjGNXG-k/T3uka_z_K-I/AAAAAAAACSA/LrPNp-tQ-rs/s1600/CARLYS%2BVIDEO-1.jpg"><img alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ss5sjGNXG-k/T3uka_z_K-I/AAAAAAAACSA/LrPNp-tQ-rs/s320/CARLYS%2BVIDEO-1.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eic8Wkr2jLs/T3ukbLRvfvI/AAAAAAAACSM/_wb3yTKAJ3k/s1600/CARLYS%2BVIDEO-2.jpg"><img alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eic8Wkr2jLs/T3ukbLRvfvI/AAAAAAAACSM/_wb3yTKAJ3k/s320/CARLYS%2BVIDEO-2.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">She survived.<br />Much to the surprise of Motts Cardiac Doctors.<br />Her surgery deemed, a success!<br /></div><br /><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ERYesMPnelE/T3ukbJT3nVI/AAAAAAAACSc/65bh7H7QRbs/s1600/CARLYS%2BVIDEO-3.jpg"><img alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ERYesMPnelE/T3ukbJT3nVI/AAAAAAAACSc/65bh7H7QRbs/s320/CARLYS%2BVIDEO-3.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-84uCEU0oDDU/T3ukbqdaiyI/AAAAAAAACSo/G-crQ2ekGJc/s1600/CARLYS%2BVIDEO-4.jpg"><img alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-84uCEU0oDDU/T3ukbqdaiyI/AAAAAAAACSo/G-crQ2ekGJc/s320/CARLYS%2BVIDEO-4.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="clear:both; text-align:CENTER"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">13 hours after surgery, Carly coded/crashed.<br />The entire ICU swarmed her bedside.<br />One nurse straddled over Carly's gurney.<br />Paul and I stood back and watched in horror.<br />We later learned, the nurse who straddle over Carly,<br />had her hands placed on Carly's tiny heart, massaging it.<br />Carly had a pulmonary hemorrhage..her lungs were shot to HELL!<br /><br />The equipment you see in the above pictures,<br />is<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Extracorporeal_membrane_oxygenation"> ECMO</a> and yes, it's as scary as it looks.<br />But, BUT after 3 1/2 days, ECMO saved our sweet girl.<br />She beat the odds stacked so high against her.<br />She fought her way back.<br /><br />31 days after surgery...we brought her back home.<br />Healthy.<br /><br />And now, besides our memories,<br />both good ones and even the bad ones,<br />this is what we are left with.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8wxyIEuNmCg/T3uog1RvHCI/AAAAAAAACS0/QK7UiI_w8gE/s1600/DSC01308.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 263px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8wxyIEuNmCg/T3uog1RvHCI/AAAAAAAACS0/QK7UiI_w8gE/s400/DSC01308.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727356633142467618" border="0" /></a>Our hearts beyond broken.<br />Our hearts completely shattered.<br /><br />How can 10 years have passed so quickly?<br />How can all that was fought for be gone?<br /><br />10 years.<br />Unbelievable.<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-17343452992148536642012-04-04T15:00:00.000-04:002012-04-04T15:00:01.475-04:00The Cable GuyEarlier this week, I had the cable guy out to our new home getting things all hooked up. He was probably the friendliest cable guy I've ever encountered.<br /><br />Small talk ensued. He talked about his wife and his 3 boys. Eventually he asked me about our fire. Sadly, when people ask me that question, I still don't have answers to give. And then,,,,he asked me, "So how many kids do you have?" I answered, "3."<br /><br />I went on to tell him of our 2 kids, who are no longer on this earth. His chin hit the floor. And we talked for a little bit about Carly and her death. And Brad and his death. We talked about the fire. All the unknowns. I'm sure he'd never been told anything quite like the things he was being told, while in my house.<br /><br />This guy just stood in my living room and he cried. He CRIED. A perfect stranger..cried. He told me the worst thing that has ever happened to his family, was when his 7yr old son poked his eye out with an ink pen. He went on to tell me how he and his wife had to fight their fears of letting their kids do anything, "kid like"... again. He said, "We struggled with letting our boys, be boys after our son lost his eye."<br /><br />After a short while, he gained some control, stopped crying and asked me, "How the hell are you still standing on your two feet?" I went on to answer him the best I could. I told him it wasn't really my faith that is keeping me going, because our doubts in God are far too high. I told him each day is a struggle for me. I don't take it one minute at a time, I take it one breath at a time. I told him that I do, now know just how a person can actually feel their heart ache. Really feel it. I know, people always say, "oh that just breaks my heart" in any bad/sad situation in their lives. But, no one and I mean no one feels their heart actually hurting, like a grieving parent. My heart <span style="font-style: italic;">hurts</span> so badly. I even asked my doctor to check my heart, and he did. And I was told, "Joany, the heart does actually ache after enduring such a horrific loss. And you've had two, back to back."<br /><br />I went on to tell this friendly cable guy about the strength that Carly gave to me/us when she was born. That little girl did more for our lives in 8 years than even I can believe. She showed us unconditional love. Sure we knew it before, everyone loves their kids unconditionally, but Carly opened our eyes to a whole new kind of unconditional love. She showed ME, her "mama" how to fight and how to be brave and strong. Even though I'm pretty sure she was much stronger than I was, during all of her health crisis situations. That little girl fought with all her might. And she took in all in stride. She didn't skip a beat. She LOVED her family and she LOVED her life. She lived each day with joy. Even through her worst of times, health wise-she took it all in stride. Right up to the end, flipping the bird at the EMT's and sticking her tongue out at them as they tried to get an IV in her little arm on that horrible day in April, 2010.<br /><br />There are many times I think that I can not go on. I've been feeling completely exhausted-<span style="font-style: italic;">to the point that I'm going to see the doctor as soon as we get back next week</span>. Two years of this unbelievable heartache is catching up with me. I'm run down, stressed out, having temper tantrums and I'm finding that my need to keep myself medicated is escalating. But, I still have my family. My broken family. And I still have my love for Carly and Brad and I will hold on to that love and somehow, I'm going to pull myself through this. It may take the rest of my life, but for the sake of all 3 of my kids...these devastating losses are NOT going to beat me.<br /><br />As the cable guy left our house the other day, he started to walk out the door, turned and said, "Mrs. George, you are one hell of a strong woman. You blow my mind that you are here, standing and not crumbled in a corner. I'm very happy that I encountered you today, you just gave me a new appreciation on my life." He also said, "You have a heck of a story, albeit a sad, horrific one..you need to tell it." I just smiled and said, "Maybe some day."Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-17452654687068287772012-03-31T22:11:00.002-04:002012-03-31T23:19:47.549-04:00Just A Coincidence...or a sign?<br /><br />Paul and I have been car shopping for Ashleigh. Yes, here in Michigan. She got financed, in VA, but we didn't want her out car shopping on her own. So, she sent a nice BIG fat check to us..to spend..for her! Along with some pretty harsh instructions on what type of car she wanted..right up to color choices. We've had a tough time looking for certain makes/models/colors of cars to suite Ashleigh's fancy! She's one picky gal!<br /><br />While car shopping, over the course of 5 weeks, we went to many dealerships. Each time we would get close to closing the deal, something would go completely wrong and the deal would fall all to pieces. It was frustrating for us and for Ashleigh. That being said, after all those weeks and disappointments ... we picked up a 2010 Malibu with only 16,000 miles on it, just a few hours ago. Very sharp car!<br /><br />As Paul was out alone one night (car shopping), he sent me a text. All the text said was, "I found a car. This is the one." Once he got home, he told me about the salesman. It turned out that the salesman is married to the lead detective for the Michigan State Police, who headed up the investigation on the night of Brad's death/fire. She has since turned it over to another detective, (the case is still open).<span style="font-style: italic;"> Just A Coincidence or a sign?? </span>Truthfully, we aren't sure. But this deal went off without a hitch. The car is in our driveway now--as I type. Could it be Brad's way of saying.."this car is the one."? No idea. Whatever the case, it gave us chills to meet the detectives husband and buy a car from him.<br /><br />Earlier today, Paul and I headed to the dealership to pick up Ashleigh's car. As we were getting ready to leave the dealership, keys in hand to that pretty, shiny, blue car, we ran into a very familiar face. Even though we hadn't seen this face in quite sometime. Mandy, one of Carly's favorite oncology nurses was in the dealership buying herself a new car. She took care of Carly many times while we were inpatient. And she kept me company on many endless nights. We just loved her. We were always somewhat relieved to see her face come into our hospital room. We knew we'd be well taken care of. When Mandy's eyes met ours while standing in that dealership and she screeched..."Carly's mom and dad!" Yep, she remembered us and our sweet girl. She hadn't seen Carly in about 4 yrs..or more. I guess it's been over 4yrs, now that I sit here and think about it. She had her son with her today, who is 5yrs old. . . she didn't have kids when she took care of Carly. Anyway, the next words out of her mouth, and I knew they were coming... "Oh my gosh, how's Carly?" Instant tears poured out of my eyes. And I mean instant. So instant, that I was kind of thrown for a loop. And I'll never forget the look on her face. Ever. Oh my gosh! Poor Mandy had no idea what had happened. And then, she cried too. We stood inside that dealership hugging and crying. <span style="font-style: italic;">Just A Coincidence or a sign?</span> Again, no idea. But we think maybe, just <span style="font-style: italic;">m a y b e</span>, both Carly and Brad were with us today.<br /><br />Through all my counseling, reading, and research on grief and grieving, I've read and been told countless times.."there will be <span style="font-style: italic;">signs</span>." We are starting to believe this to be true. And we're somewhat freaked out by it. Favorite songs of both Carly and Brad come on the radio more and more often lately. What's even more freaky than hearing those songs, is the timing of the songs. Purple (Carly's favorite color) flowers poppin' up randomly. Finding everything imaginable in Eagle form..Brad loved Eagles! As a matter of fact, I found an Eagle garden statue about 2ft tall...I bought it (wasn't even looking for one) and placed it at his grave. It seems wherever I go, I see something with Eagles on it. And as crazy, weird as this sounds, I've even thought that I smelled their scent a time or two. Just don't know what to think, are these all <span style="font-style: italic;">Just A Coincidence...or a sign?</span><br /><br />There is not a day that goes by, that we don't miss Carly and Brad. There is not a day that passes, that they aren't heavy on our minds. We are so completely lost without them both. Our hearts actually hurt. Every. Single. Day. I think often of what we'd be doing with Carly. Playing outside everyday after school. Watching Disney 24/7. Listening to her boom box blasting out Hannah Montana. I miss her sweet little voice and her chuckle of a laugh..which was exactly like Brad's! We miss Brad's voice. His chuckle and we are lost without him helping us with all our techie stuff. We are totally in the dark when it comes to all things techie. We miss the relationship that the two of them had. And we are so very sad that Brad never will have the joy of being a dad. We will never see any grandchildren from our son.<br /><br /> The week before Carly passed away, we ordered pizza. When the pizza arrived, Carly came around the corner, into the kitchen, took one look at the delivery guy and spun around running to Brad's room, screaming, "BUBBA, B U B B A" He came out of his room and said, "dang Carly, I can hear ya know" Whenever Carly had candy, she'd run to her "Bubba" and make sure he got a piece too. Truth be known, he probably told her she HAD to give him some of her candy! She even put stickers on his bedroom door - he left them there for a LONG, LONG time. And even though we are struggling with God right now..we are trying VERY hard to hold on to any shred of hope. We are doing, or trying to do this..in hopes that our two kids are together. It's not easy for us. We are still VERY pissed off and will likely be for many, many years to come.<br /><br />On a lighter note. Paul and I are heading to VA on Thursday to personally deliver Ashleigh's car to her. She's super excited to get the car and we're equally excited and<span style="font-weight: bold;"> super</span> anxious to see her. Even if only for a few days..it will do all 3 of us good. And, we'll be together for Easter, which is also the 6mo date of our fire and Brad's death. I'm thinking we're going to do something completely different for Easter dinner this year. Not the traditional ham dinner. Maybe a nice big steak dinner. Steak was Brad's favorite meal. It's also the meal he requested just 50 minutes before his death. I know he'd enjoy a steak for Easter dinner..he never liked ham.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-39320696547944123042012-03-16T23:00:00.000-04:002012-03-16T23:00:00.660-04:00A Sign?Paul and I went over to our house earlier this evening. And we think we may have had, <span style="font-style: italic;">A Sign</span> from our sweet little Carly.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;">Purple Flowers!<br /></div><br /><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zqjKp2AC7bc/T2Pq-PIEfPI/AAAAAAAACRs/XhTBjRBlqjI/s1600/Resampled_2012-03-16_20-28-01_134%25281%2529.jpg"><img alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zqjKp2AC7bc/T2Pq-PIEfPI/AAAAAAAACRs/XhTBjRBlqjI/s320/Resampled_2012-03-16_20-28-01_134%25281%2529.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="clear:both; text-align:CENTER"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" border="0" align="middle" /></a></div><br />Do you see those flowers? See how purple they are? We couldn't believe this. Why??? Well, not because of this very odd Spring/Summer like weather we are having here in Mid Michigan, which is causing everything to bloom..it was 78 here today..the normal temp., is in the 40's for the middle of March. The reason we could not believe our eyes...is because of our yard. Our yard was torn to shreds the past several months. Dump trucks, bulldozers, backhoes, semi trailers, tractors...mud, mess, the works all right here on this very spot that these flowers popped up.<br /><br />We are kind of thinking this is <span style="font-style: italic;">A Sign</span> from our little Carly. Last Spring, these flowers popped up. The thing is, I never planted them. However, the first Spring after we lost Carly..they were there. In fact, I think I did a post on finding them growing last year. I could look through my blog, but I'm not going to! Not right now at least.<br /><br />How these are growing amongst the torn up yard..seriously, there is no grass around those flowers..you can see that in the picture, is beyond anything I can figure out. Everything is dirt. Turned up grass. Just. Plain. Dirt!<br /><br />For those of you who haven't followed our journey until recently. Carly's favorite color was purple. It's the first "color" word that she ever said. She wanted EVERYTHING purple. Red was her second favorite color..and was the second "color" word she said. If you gave her a choice between something, red or purple...it confused the shit out of her!! Poor kid, she could not choose between the two. So, most generally, she ended up with something purple and something red!<br /><br />As we looked at these flowers, Paul and I said, at the same time, "It's Carly." I'm thinking she's telling us, "it's time to get home. I'm still here." Now if only we could get <span style="font-style: italic;">A Sign</span>, from Brad.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-34210674095894130122012-03-15T22:00:00.001-04:002012-03-15T22:03:34.094-04:00A few questions...<div>...that I've been asked over the course of the past several months. Most are pretty difficult to answer. But, I find myself often saying the ever infamous line of, <span style="font-style: italic;">"I'm doing okay."</span> Which is really, very far from the truth!<br /><br />One question that I often get asked is - <span style="font-weight: bold;">"how do you do it?"</span> I assume, "<span style="font-style: italic;">it</span>" is referring to the death of 2 of my children. I rarely have an answer to that question. Most often, I find myself at a loss of words or I stumble around trying hard to come up with an answer. Actually, in complete honesty, I have no idea of just how exactly to answer that particular question. The truth is, I don't know how I do "<span style="font-style: italic;">it</span>". I don't know how I get through each day. It's hard to go to sleep each night. It's VERY hard to get myself out of bed each morning.It's hard to get started with each new day. Seriously, every day, each morning, it's hard. It throws your whole body for a loop..just. as. soon. as. you. open. your. eyes. Not a good way to start each day, is it? It's not like getting up late because your alarm wasn't set right. And then you find yourself racing around the house trying to get ready to get out the door to work..only to discover that you have lost you set of car keys just as your heading out the door to work. Car keys are replaceable...even though you get totally pissed off when you can't find your keys. It throws you into a tizzy. Throws your entire day off. However, in the back of your mind, you know those keys will eventually show up. What I face each morning is the cold hard fact, that my 2 kids will never show up. Not in their physical being. They are forever gone from this world. Gone forever. And truthfully, I'm not doing "<span style="font-style: italic;">it</span>" very well. But, I've learned that people are so uncomfortable with the truth, that I seem to just give the easiest answer possible..<span style="font-style: italic;">."I'm doing okay."</span><br /><br />Another question I've been asked several times is - <span style="font-weight: bold;">"what's the hardest part of what you're going through?" </span>Again, I can only assume that question refers to the loss of 2 of my children, but people don't ask with the use of Carly's or Brad's name. I don't have any idea how to answer that question at all. I can't explain the ache I feel deep, deep down inside of myself. I can't begin to explain the overwhelming heartache that consumes me each and every. single. day. I often times will say, "my heart is completely shattered, not just broken, shattered." And I just leave it at that. I can't tell you what the hardest part of living this new life is. I miss seeing the faces of my kids every day. I miss their laughter. I miss their voices. I miss the noisiness of having kids.<br /><br />On a day to day basis, one of the things we do struggle with the most, is waking up each morning to face another day without our kids. Going to visit them at the cemetery is very difficult. It's so hard to stand at their graves and know that their lives are over. To know that I gave birth to two beautiful children whose lives were snatched away, without any warning. They were here one minute and gone the next.<br /><br />Another question Paul and I get asked a lot..and I mean A LOT - <span style="font-weight: bold;">"are you angry/mad at God?"</span> We are extremely mad and angry at God. We now question whether or not there even is a God. Please..do not judge me for my feelings. If you believe in God, good for you. But for Paul and I, we are struggling. We are mad as HELL. I get so tired of hearing people say, "everything happens for a reason." and "this is God's plan." Ummm, I'm pretty sure if those people were walking this journey of grief, they'd be feeling darn near what we are feeling and if they didn't, they'd surely understand our anger and our questioning. As I've said to several people, "well, if this is God's plan, it's one messed up plan. Messed up big time."<br /><br />As far as questions go, believe you me...we have <span style="font-weight: bold;">a lot </span>of them. I'll share with you a few of those question. We struggle with these questions daily. Often times, several times, daily.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" align="center">Why our family?<br /></div><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Why our kids?<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="line-height: 115%;">Why can’t we feel their presence, (like those grieving parents before us, claim we can) on a daily basis?</span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span>Why wasn't it us?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Why do we feel so exhausted each day? </span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">When will our heart shattering pain lessen?<br />When will we have any feeling of "normalcy" again?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Is this all there is to our "normalcy" now? </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">When will our up and down days, turn into more "up" days and less "down" days?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Is our life left to "down" days, for the rest of our lives?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">When will our guilt end?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Is it really "normal" to feel such quilt?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">When will my horrible dreams of my 2 children end?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Do I really want my horrible dreams to end?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Are we going crazy?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Are our kids together now?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Are they happy?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Where, exactly are our kids?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">What's it like for them now?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Is there life beyond?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Where was God on April 23, 2010 as Carly fought so freaking hard to survive?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Where was God on October 8, 2011 as our home burned as our son lie inside?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">What kind of God puts a family through such horror? </span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Why did God fail our family?</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Is there even God? </span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span><span style="font-size:100%;">Is there a Heaven?</span></span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span><span style="font-size:100%;">How are we suppose to go on with our lives?</span></span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span><span style="font-size:100%;">Will happiness ever find us again?</span></span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span><span style="font-size:100%;">How does a mother go on without 2 of her children and where does she even begin?</span></span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span><span style="font-size:100%;">What are we suppose to do now?</span></span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span><span style="font-size:100%;">What comes next?</span></span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span><span style="font-size:100%;">Is more heartbreak ahead?</span></span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span><span style="font-size:100%;">When is enough...ENOUGH?<br /></span></span></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">And those are only an example of <span style="font-style: italic;">some</span> of the questions that we have each day. Most, will likely never be answered. And that sucks. Because some of those questions will eat at us, likely for the rest of our lives. </span><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />We are trying hard to find a sense of some sort of normalcy. But it's really, really hard and more times than not, I for one, would rather just stay at home and keep to myself. And if you know my husband, so would he. It's hard to get yourself moving. Force yourself to, go..live..do..be. I'm trying though. I do have some pretty good friends who do get me out a couple times a month. We go for lunch, dinner, shopping and even to the movies. Believe me, I come close each time, to backing out. But, I force myself to, go..do. In all honesty, it's <span style="font-weight: bold;">hard</span>. Hard to make myself do things. Not sure if it's guilt because I'm doing things or fear. Fear, is very much a part of our lives now. We fear each day. We fear facing each day. We fear wondering what each day will bring. We fear tomorrow. We fear life.<br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></span></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UITv8JyxMmk/T2H0B5ADzUI/AAAAAAAACRU/v-eA4YggAyU/s1600/BrotherSister%2Bwillow%2B26187.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 300px; height: 300px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5720121315055357250" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UITv8JyxMmk/T2H0B5ADzUI/AAAAAAAACRU/v-eA4YggAyU/s400/BrotherSister%2Bwillow%2B26187.jpg" border="0" /></a>The above picture, is part of the Willow Tree Angels collection. My dear friend, Polly, sent this to us after Brad's death. It's very fitting, it's called, "Brother and Sister" And I hope, this is how my kids are today. Together. Side by side. Forever.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fmqC3wOubNw/T2Jtn8hB-ZI/AAAAAAAACRg/3-5dWrmpQ7Q/s1600/479368475603_0_BG%255B1%255Dcopyof5gkids50anniversaryparty.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 196px; height: 231px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fmqC3wOubNw/T2Jtn8hB-ZI/AAAAAAAACRg/3-5dWrmpQ7Q/s400/479368475603_0_BG%255B1%255Dcopyof5gkids50anniversaryparty.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5720255009740945810" border="0" /></a>Brad would most definitely, NOT like this picture of him shown.. because<br />he had lost so much weight after this picture and before his death.<br />But, I love this picture. Carly was checking him out..likely wishing<br />she could stand by her "sissy"... and he was checking her out. They<br />had a very special bond. And I sure do hope whatever is out there after death..whatever<br />it may be, that they are together again.<br /><br /></div></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-86205661397962517592012-02-29T23:37:00.004-05:002012-03-01T00:41:30.588-05:00Survivor, Surviving...My Mom Is A Survivor<br /><br />My Mom is a survivor, or so I've heard it said.<br />But I hear her crying at night when all others are in bed.<br />I watch her lay awake at night and go to hold her hand.<br />She doesn't know I'm with her to help her understand.<br />But like the sands on the beach that never wash away...<br />I watch over my surviving mom, who thinks of me each day.<br />She wears a smile for others...a smile of disguise.<br />But through Heaven's door I see tears flowing from her eyes.<br />My mom tries to cope with death to keep my memory alive.<br />But anyone who knows her knows it is her way to survive.<br />As I watch over my surviving mom...through Heaven's open door.<br />I try to tell her that angels protect me forever more.<br />But I know that doesn't help her or ease the burden she bears.<br />So if you get a chance, go visit her...And show her that you care.<br />For no matter what she says...no matter what she feels.<br />My surviving mom has a broken heart that time won't ever heal~<br />~unknown~<br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">********************</span></span><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I think I've mastered the "smile of disguise" and it's harder than you could ever begin to imagine. I am surviving and so is Paul. I'm not quite sure how, because the whole process of surviving is hard work.<br /><br />Paul and I have been having a rough time the past week or so. Facing the fact, the harsh reality of life without both Carly and Brad has been tough the last several days. This whole grieving thing, it isn't getting any easier for either of us and some days, it's nearly unbearable.<br /><br />As March rolls in, our fears of Carly's approaching 2yr angel anniversary are becoming crystal clear. It's pretty scary for us. We can't believe we are coming up on the 2yr mark. And we can't believe that we've lost another child during that time. We are living a real, live, freaking nightmare.<br /><br />They say, whoever <span style="font-style: italic;">they</span> are...the experts on grief, I guess. Anyway, <span style="font-style: italic;">they</span> say the 2nd year is the hardest to get through ~ during the grieving process, of a lifetime. We wouldn't know. Because during that time, we lost our son, Brad. Grieving 2 kids is hard. Very hard. We've been so numb over losing Brad that we haven't been able to hit the 2yr grieving mark for Carly. <span style="font-style: italic;">They</span>, say the 2nd year of the grieving process is a huge hurdle to clear..it's suppose to be the very hardest part of this gut wrenching journey. But, it's important because..supposedly, when you get through the 2 year mark, things start getting more bearable. Not easier, just a bit more bearable because all of the "firsts" are over with..behind you. Such as; the first Christmas, birthday or any other special day.<br /><br />We keep pushing forward and we're trying so hard to survive, but it's the hardest thing we've ever done in our lives. You can't imagine how hard it is for us to get up each morning, and just function. I'm home all day. Paul goes to work each day. We talk to each other several times a day and I can hear the life just draining out of his voice. He is in such awful shape. I worry about him all day long. He cries nearly all the time. Yes, he's on med's, (we both are) but in all honesty, med's don't heal a broken heart. A broken heart, times two.<br /><br />Ashleigh is the only reason that Paul and I can face each day. She gives us the will to go on with our lives. It's really hard to have her 800 miles away from us right now, but at least we can talk to her whenever we want. Paul and I worry about her every single day. How that girl continues to move forward with her life is beyond me. She has such strength and determination. Despite the fact that she has lost both of her siblings. I'd have to say, she's pretty darn amazing. I feel so terrible though, because she "parents" us every now and then. Not kidding. It's like a role reversal. She sees us hanging at the end of our rope and she pulls us back in.<br /><br />Surviving, is an awful hard job.<br /><br /><br /></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-41000962717456256172012-02-19T23:08:00.002-05:002012-02-19T23:24:55.141-05:00Just A Glimpse......of how our lives are changing. A new life. Not one that we ever asked for. Not one that we ever wanted. Not one that we'd wish on anyone. But, this change, it is inevitable..and this change completely <span style="font-size:130%;">SUCKS</span>.<br /><br />I've posted before that we are not happy about this new home. We aren't excited about it. We aren't looking forward to moving in to it. In fact, we are terrified to move into it. But we are thankful that our insurance co., realized that we just could not live in our old home, even after they rebuilt it. We are thankful that the cost of rebuilding our home was so high, it afforded us the chance to just get a new home. No way could we have ever lived in that same house. The house where our son took his very last breath. No Way! At this point, we aren't sure we'll even be able to live in this new home. It may prove to be much too difficult for us.<br /><br />Below is, <span style="font-style: italic;">just a glimpse</span> of our new home. We like this home. We have to, right? I mean, we have to live in it, so therefore, we have to like it. Right??? But, and that's a very <span style="font-size:130%;">BIG</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">BUT</span>,,, at the very same time, we don't..<em>like it</em>. We like nothing about it. It makes us sad. Makes us angry. Makes us feel guilty. Guilty for liking the house. Confused much?? So are we! I guess what I'm saying is this - we like the house itself. We ordered it the way we wanted it, and trust me, that was NOT easy to do a mere 4wks after losing Brad. But, we did order it the way we wanted it. From the flooring to the sinks, the cupboards to the paint color. What we don't like about it is - it's not "our" home. Our home where all of our memories were made with our kids. That home is gone, forever...that's the home we want back. The home and both of our kids who were taken so suddenly away from us.<br /><br />This is a picture of Diesel sitting on our salvaged (from the old house) steps, in front of our new house. Diesel was/is, Brad's dog :(<br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X7gSoki81vo/T0HHVsPJseI/AAAAAAAACQk/NPGPx9G0iRM/s1600/PART_1329692880915.jpg"><img alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X7gSoki81vo/T0HHVsPJseI/AAAAAAAACQk/NPGPx9G0iRM/s320/PART_1329692880915.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br />I think the poor dog misses "home". Yes, he is with us while we live with my parents. The poor dog is so confused :( How could he not be?<br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mLvlM9Wzu9o/T0HHV3hNzYI/AAAAAAAACQs/mvuMRagyS10/s1600/PART_1329707506100.jpg"><img alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mLvlM9Wzu9o/T0HHV3hNzYI/AAAAAAAACQs/mvuMRagyS10/s320/PART_1329707506100.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br />The house is sided with Palm Green siding...Ashleigh really dislikes this color :(<br /><br />You can see in the picture below, we had to remove several shrubs due to a different layout of this home. The empty spot between the windows is where our front steps used to be :(<br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HvfC4VHvRdo/T0HHV9h90vI/AAAAAAAACQ8/yjc_X4bQ4So/s1600/Resampled_2012-02-19_17-02-40_366.jpg"><img alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HvfC4VHvRdo/T0HHV9h90vI/AAAAAAAACQ8/yjc_X4bQ4So/s320/Resampled_2012-02-19_17-02-40_366.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br />And there's Diesel again. Guarding 'his' house...As I look at this picture, I can't help but wonder what this poor dog must be thinking about all that's gone on in the past 4months.<br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gZ_o41v7ZYc/T0HHWZxURnI/AAAAAAAACRE/DrZOGqgFSeQ/s1600/PART_1329707624124.jpg"><img alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gZ_o41v7ZYc/T0HHWZxURnI/AAAAAAAACRE/DrZOGqgFSeQ/s320/PART_1329707624124.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />Diesel was (so was Carly's dog, Penny-a cockapoo) home that horrific night. He, (Penny too) has been uprooted, moved to my parents and he has been penned up. Normally, he has free rein of our yard...we had an underground pet fence.<br /><br />I can't tell you how badly I wish that our dogs could talk. They saw so much commotion that horrible night. Which is why I'm pretty sure that is the reason Diesel has become VERY protective. Or, it could be all simply, due to his age. He's 3yrs old now. I'm sure the poor dog misses Brad and that likely has something to do with his being so protective. Penny missed Carly..she even cried for several weeks after we lost Carly :( She would wander around the house sniffing all the toys and cry. It was pitiful.<br /><br />There you have it...<span style="font-style: italic;">just a glimpse</span>, of our new home.<br /></div><br /></div><div style="clear:both; text-align:CENTER"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" border="0" align="middle" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-60561249878614235962012-02-10T11:34:00.008-05:002012-02-14T00:32:46.177-05:00The Run Down...<div><div> </div><div>I've been working on a blog post for a week now...thought I'd post a "run down" of the goings on around here lately.<br /><br />Last week was another crazy, hectic week around here. They, whoever <span style="font-style: italic;">they</span> are, say "busy" is a good thing. I don't know whether to agree with that..or disagree.<br /><br />What remained of our burned home was removed last week. It was pretty difficult to see. We cried. It was very sad. I bought that home and had it placed on a piece of property that I purchased, 18yrs ago for the kids and I. Paul and I were divorced at that time. Brad was 4yrs old when we moved in. So it was, basically, his only home. It was the home where many wonderful memories were made. The home we brought Carly home to, after she was born. It. Sucked. To. See. It. Go.<br /><br /></div><div> </div><div>Tuesday my parents, (we're living with them) headed to Florida for a couple months. Our house (new one) was in the process of being set, (its a modular/manufactured/whatever you call it, kind of home.) but issue after issue kept coming up. And the fact that the workers we have, only want to work 1/2 days! Grrr.... Seriously, who starts construction work at noon?? Apparently, the crew we found!<br /><br /></div><div> </div><div>Wednesday, the 8th, Paul and I had to head to the Michigan State Police Head Quarters, in Lansing. We were finally being interviewed. Holy crap, 4 months to the day of our fire and the death of our son and we FINALLY, had a REAL and proper interview. I guess all the lab work had to be complete, which is quite a slow and lengthy process. Paul and I were interviewed briefly, on that horrible night, while we were on the scene, but,,Wednesday was more in depth. We are so thankful that we did get interviewed, even tho Paul cried through much of his interview and I gagged and nearly threw up on several occasions. It. Was. Difficult. We left after 2hrs, feeling completely exhausted. But, hopeful that the detectives will be able to figure out just what took place in our home. And for the record...we did find out that Brad had a clean toxicology test, which proves to those who like to blab and gossip,,,that Brad was <span style="font-weight: bold;">NOT</span> cooking meth!<br /><br /></div><div> </div><div>Thursday, I met up again, with the detective who is leading the investigation. We talked quite a bit about the case. The strange circumstances that took place on the horrific night and about Paul. Paul is in bad shape. <strong>BAD </strong>shape. All the things we've gone through in the past 21+ months and the fact that he has an, <span style="font-size:130%;">A</span> <span style="font-size:85%;">double</span> <span style="font-size:130%;">S,</span> for a boss...is just pushing him over the edge. The detective is extremely concerned about his stability. As we all are. We are in the process of searching for help for both Paul and I. But, his wonderful boss has not been paying into our insurance and we will lose it the end of February, or we can shell out about $800, which we can't spare, to keep it for 30 days...So, we are stuck AGAIN, between a rock and a hard spot..We need more than just a grief counselor. We went the counselor route when we lost Carly. It was ok, and I even learned a few things in my 6months of counseling. However, it soon becomes more like you're just repeating yourself week after week. Like a record that just keeps skipping over and over and over. I for one, got tired of going in and just saying the same thing. But for now, help will just have to wait..we can't do $300 a week sessions (a piece) and we can't pay for our health insurance...so we'll just see how it all plays out. Well, I did it...I got myself all pissed off thinking about Paul's stupid @$$ boss who cares nothing for his employees! &*%$@!<br /><br /><x on="" done="" with="" that="" friday="" paul="" and="" i="" met="" up="" ashleigh="" her="" friends="" for="" s="" always="" fun="" to="" see="" those="" they="" t="" actually="" kids="" anymore="" will="" be="" in="" my="" some="" are="" married="" of="" their="" own="" but="" we="" love="" them="" ve="" all="" been="" super="" our="" family="" throughout="" the="" especially="" past="" saturday="" headed="" out="" a="" couple="" who="" happen="" went="" mani="" then="" it="" was="" so="" much="" spending="" time="" chatting="" catching="" took="" mind="" off="" work="" house="" needed="" div=""><div> </div><div>As for our new home, it has finally been set. There is still so much work to finish, but it is set. Next up, finishing the dry wall work, painting, the stretching of the carpet But, none of that can be done until the electric and gas are both hooked up. We still have a ways to go, but we're getting there.<br /><br />In all honestly, I am terrified to go back "home". I'm not excited. I'm not looking forward to it. I dread it. I get sick. Physically sick, when we shop for furniture. I get knots in my stomach even thinking about what colors to paint the walls. And even though the fact remains, that this is a different home, I KNOW it will be extremely hard for Paul and I. We will be at home. We will be at an empty home. An empty home with no kids. Empty bedrooms. Quiet. Empty. Empty. Quiet. I've never experienced that before. Not in 25yrs...and believe me, it scares me sh!t less!<br /><br /></div><div> </div><div>Today, Ashleigh left, after being home for 11 days. It's been so nice to have her here, but boy, the time sure does go fast. And we already miss her. Paul and I are both having much anxiety over her being gone again. Sure, we know where she will be, which is nice. We know that we can drive to see her in only about 11 or so hours...except, we have no idea <span style="font-style: italic;">when</span> we will see her again and for us, that's not very comforting. But, she is happy with her decision to join the military. And for that, we are thankful. We are proud of her, for going after the things she wants out of life. We are proud of her determination and of the strength that she has within herself. She's been through so much. Losing both of her siblings in less than 18months and learning about their deaths via a telephone call is wrong in so many ways. As bad as Paul and I feel and as much as we hurt over losing 2 of our 3 children, our hearts hurt even more for our only surviving child. I can't even begin to explain the hurt that we feel for Ashleigh. We gave her 2 siblings...and now they are gone. That does more than just break my heart...it shatters it.<br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div></x></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-88680386871260751272012-02-05T13:27:00.007-05:002012-02-05T23:53:33.215-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5xRie4E2guc/Ty9aY7ng8yI/AAAAAAAACQY/ANEH--cZ16A/s1600/bradncarly1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 202px; height: 227px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5xRie4E2guc/Ty9aY7ng8yI/AAAAAAAACQY/ANEH--cZ16A/s400/bradncarly1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705878637268497186" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:180%;">Don't Grieve For Me For Now I'm Free </span></div> <p style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family:Arial;"> Don't grieve for me, for now I'm free<br />I'm following the path God laid for me.<br /><span> I took H<span id="dtx-highlighting-item">is </span><span>h<span id="dtx-highlighting-item">and </span>when I heard Him call;</span></span><br /><span><span> I turned my back<span id="dtx-highlighting-item"> and </span>left</span><span id="dtx-highlighting-item"> it </span>all. </span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span> I could<span id="dtx-highlighting-item"> not </span>stay a<span id="dtx-highlighting-item">not</span>her day,</span><br />To laugh, to love, to work or play.<br />Tasks left undone must stay that way;<br />I found that place at the close of day. </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"> If my parting has left a void,<br /><span> Then fill<span id="dtx-highlighting-item"> it </span>w<span id="dtx-highlighting-item">it</span>h remembered joy.</span><br /><span> A friendship shared a laugh, a k<span id="dtx-highlighting-item">is</span>s;</span><br /><span> Ah yes, these things, I too will m<span id="dtx-highlighting-item">is</span>s. </span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span><span> Be<span id="dtx-highlighting-item"> not </span>burdened w</span><span id="dtx-highlighting-item">it</span>h times of sorrow</span><br /><span> I w<span id="dtx-highlighting-item">is</span>h you the sunshine of tomorrow.</span><br />My life's been full, I savored much;<br />Good friends, good times, a loved ones touch. </span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"> Perhaps my time seems all to brief;</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span> Don't lengthen<span id="dtx-highlighting-item"> it </span>now w<span id="dtx-highlighting-item">it</span>h undue grief.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span><span> Lift up your heart<span id="dtx-highlighting-item"> and </span>share w</span><span id="dtx-highlighting-item">it</span>h me,</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"> God wanted me now, He set me free.<br /><br />~Anonymous~<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;">If you've been reading my blog over the past 21 1/2 months, you pretty much know that I am now, very much doubtful there even is a God. How could I not doubt this? My family has taken quite a pounding over the past several months. Just barely able to catch our breath from our first horrific loss..BAMMM, we were hit again. Yep, I have my doubts.<br /><br />I often times get asked, "do you think there is a God?" and "what do you think about Heaven?" As I try my best to answer such questions, I often times find myself just shaking my head. I honestly do not know. I used to...but not now. Not anymore. It's very difficult for me to find answers for myself. I sure can't find the answers for others. Or, the answers that others want to hear coming from my mouth.<br /><br />Its a terrible time in our lives. Most people think, <span style="font-style: italic;">no</span>, they believe that we should cling to any sliver of faith. Probably we should. But we can not. We just do not have any left. I, myself, do try a little. I try to convince myself that there is in fact a Heaven..because I WANT my children there. Therefore, I must be clinging to hope that there is in fact, a God. Right? I don't know..I just don't know.<br /><br />Never once did I ever question whether or not there was/is a God. EVER. Well, never before the past 21 1/2 months had I questioned God. I thought I had witnessed God's work first hand.<br /><br />For example..I had Bradley, who came close to being delivered with a broken neck. Thankfully, his collar bone ended up broken (not thankful he had a broken collar bone, just thankful it was not his neck) instead. He was delivered via Vacuum Extractor. I also saw Brad clinging to life as a 5 month old who was hospitalized due to a bad bout of the flu. Which we later learned from his doctor, we nearly lost him. As we arrived at the hospital to have him admitted, his little eyes were rolled to the back of his head. I handed him to a couple of nurses who were in the hallway and they took off running with him.<br /><br />And then came Carly. I'd seen Carly live through many critical health crises. Bad ones. Coding 13 hrs after open heart surgery. Battling 3 deadly blood infections. Fighting through a deadly round of chemo..to which the end result left her with no. vitals. whatsoever. I witnessed her have a stroke during chemo. I witnessed her losing the ability to use her left arm, hand and fingers..the poor kid couldn't even hold herself up on all fours without that arm acting like a wet noodle. But, even through all of that...I witnessed healing. And I believed. But now, I'm full of doubt. Full of questions. Questions that will likely, never be answered.<br /><br />A sad but true story:<br />Several years ago, soon after Carly had been diagnosed with leukemia, Paul came home from work telling me about a co-worker who had a young cousin, we'll just call him, Pete. Sadly, Pete passed away due to leukemia. Pete's mom was a Christian and had been all of her life. She was never seen without her Bible in her hand. Her young son passed away after quite a lengthy battle. A battle that went back and forth for many years. His poor little body had been through the wringer and he ended up with the much dreaded sepsis, which claimed his life. Paul's co-worker told how his aunt went home after Pete's funeral and burned all of her Bibles. BURNED them! She cursed God. And she vowed to NEVER step foot into a church, ever again. I was shocked being told this story. I was pissed that someone would burn the Bible. Pissed at how a Christian could be so angry at God. Because I just knew, <span style="font-style: italic;">I knew</span> there was a God. I just didn't "get" it. I didn't "get" her anger. I didn't understand the anger toward God. How could I? I mean, really... Carly was, (and Brad too, for that matter) after all, living proof...<span style="font-style: italic;">or so I thought</span> at the time.<br /><br />After losing Carly and less than 18 months later, losing Bradley.. I can honestly say that I now "get" the anger toward God. I "<span style="font-weight: bold;">get</span>" it.<span style="font-family:Arial;"><br /></span></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zG45vjT1gmE/Ty9Z_vmqUSI/AAAAAAAACQA/6-8iA1KF3QM/s1600/lots%2Bof%2Bpics%2B007.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zG45vjT1gmE/Ty9Z_vmqUSI/AAAAAAAACQA/6-8iA1KF3QM/s400/lots%2Bof%2Bpics%2B007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705878204546961698" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I miss these kids.<br /> I miss them so very much.<br />My heart actually aches.<br /> Every. Single.<br />Day.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-15rJ59EtWY4/Ty9Z_jbBNpI/AAAAAAAACQM/Ny4R8MfINOs/s1600/DSC00972.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-15rJ59EtWY4/Ty9Z_jbBNpI/AAAAAAAACQM/Ny4R8MfINOs/s400/DSC00972.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705878201276905106" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />The Poem I shared today, literally takes my breath away.<br />It causes that 'kick to the gut' feeling way deep down inside.<br />But I read it anyway.<br />Over and over again.<br /><br /><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-14410847374512572992012-01-22T11:41:00.006-05:002012-01-22T13:29:13.454-05:00Memories<div align="center">"Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love,</div><br /><div align="center">the things you are, the things you never want to lose."</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">We had a mountain of memories come crashing down on this this weekend. Yesterday, was the day that we had been dreading for quite some time. The remaining contents within our home, were emptied out and tossed in dumpster. A dumpster <strong>full</strong> of our mementos...material things, but nonetheless, our things. However, and we are thankful that our memories were not tossed into a dumpster. Our memories will remain with us for the rest of our lives. </div><br /><div align="left"><br /></div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">Removing contents from much of the house, was rough, not gonna lie about that. But those contents meant nothing in comparison to Brad's room. That was knee buckling for us. Seeing what remained of his personal belongs, loaded onto a Bobcat and dumbed into a dumpster was pure agony for Paul and I. It literally took my breath away. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">As hard as it was for us to be present during that time, we felt the need to be there. Not much was salvageable from Brad's room. A few things, which is nice., but not much at all. His class ring was found and is okay. One of his knives from a knife collection was found..actually, we had found a couple soon after the fire, so that's kind of nice for us to be able to have a few of his things. My brother found a whole Lego village that Brad had built years ago. Brad was a HUGE Lego kid! And he had saved it all these years. Sadly, the Lego village was under his bed and melted to the floor. I was able to take a few of the buildings off the Lego pad to save those. We also found some of his GI Joe's, which surprisingly, were okay. We'll be keeping those as well. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">Seeing Brad's beloved San Fransisco 49ers blankets, body pillow and jerseys being piled in the dumpster was pure torture for us. Even seeing his burned up, prize possessions $180 tennis shoes brought tears to our eyes. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">Brad had a love for eagles. Not sure how, why or when that came about, but he had several eagle statues in his room along with many wall hangings and a fleece bedspread that had a beautiful eagle on it. Sadly, all of that stuff is gone now. I was hoping to find the eagle that Carly bought him for Christmas in 2009. Her last Christmas. She had gone shopping at the schools Santa Shop Store, and bought Brad a resin statue of an eagle. I had hoped, but I knew better, that it would be found. It was not. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">I can't really explain the feeling of guilt that washed over Paul and I yesterday during the emptying of the house. I felt as tho we were throwing away and erasing our son and his existence. We knew that there was not much for us to salvage, but it didn't change our terrible guilty feeling that went on throughout that day. It's pretty tough watching a dumpster fill with your sons burned up possessions. If Brad were still here, it would not have been so difficult. But, he's not and it made it that much worse.</div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">We are so thankful for the memories that we have of Brad. We will hold those close to our hearts and treasure them for the rest of our lives. Brad was such a neat kid. He was funny, smart and very particular and set in his ways. We will never forget his laughter..he had a chuckle which oddly enough, Carly had the exact same chuckle. He was a jokester. He was the biggest person in our home..we're all shrimps. By no means was he a "giant", but he was about 5'9" and to us, that was tall. It was funny to see him standing next to his dad. Brad actually had to look down at Paul (who is 5'2") and I (I'm 5'4") ! He playfully tossed little Ashleigh (who is 5'1") around like she was a rag doll. Poor girl! And with Carly, he was just as gentle and loving to her as could be. He was protective of Carly, well of Ashleigh too. When kids would be teasing Carly, Brad would say, "want me to teach her how to fight?" My reply was, "no thanks." His was always, "well, she needs to defend herself and not take shit from kids who pick on her." One time, Ash (in elementary school) wore a skirt and some kid (boy) laid down and looked up her skirt while on the playground. That night at dinner, Brad..who was likely in about 2nd grade at the time, said, "want me to beat 'em up for ya Ash?" He never cared for boys teasing Ashleigh while they were in High School either. He could pick on her as much as he wanted..but no one else had better!</div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">Memories are a gift. A wonderful gift. But, often times Paul and I find that they just aren't enough. And sadly, the grief overpowers much of the memories. Grief has a way of pushing everything off to the side. Taking over with complete control of your lives. We hope, in time, our grief will lessen. Although we can't see how that will ever come to be. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">Make many memories, because none of us know for sure, just how much time we have for memory making. And trust me, no matter how many memories you make or think you've made, if you ever have to take the journey of a grieving parent, you're going to kick yourself for not making more memories. </div><br /><br />**again, I see my post is all jumbled up. Sorry. I have no idea what is going on. As I type, the body of the post looks great, but when I preview it, it's a mess. Please bear with me for a bit longer...someday I'll get the problem resolved.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-2879425491487535802012-01-17T23:13:00.007-05:002012-01-18T11:18:34.157-05:00<div style="text-align: center;" align="left">"Grief has dropped a bomb in your life. You are shattered, blasted, blown apart, all but nearly destroyed. Amongst the shards, amongst the debris, you live. You don't know how. You cant see. You can do nothing but feel the pain that is within you and around you. You don't understand, you will never understand. You lay down amongst the rubble, for you can do nothing else,,,and you cry. Cry like you've never cried before, in your life and you ask, why me? Why us? Why this? And somehow, without knowing how, you uncurl yourself, you brush more tears from your face, and you walk. You begin by picking up a shard, a broken piece of your life here, a broken piece there. They don't fit together anymore, they cant. There is no going back to what once was. As each tiny fragment begins to shape itself anew, so do you. Your shape is a stranger to yourself now, and to everyone else too. Your pieces, have become you; they speak of your strength, of your courage, they speak of you, the vulnerable you, the broken you." </div><div>~author unknown~ </div><div><br /></div><div>One of the toughest things for Paul and me is trying to grieve for both of our children. Seriously, how is a parent suppose to go about that? We cry for one and then feel like shit because we are in fact, crying for 1 child. Hard to balance out your grief without feeling anything less than guilt. Guilt that continuously punches you in the gut.</div><div> </div><div>The other night, NBC news had a story on about a little boy with Down syndrome. His name is Ryan. He is actually a child model for Target. I've seen him in the Target ads a few times, so I was happy to finally hear something about him and his story. What a neat little guy. He made us smile and laugh...but he also triggered the water works. Again..guilt swept over us because we were crying for Carly and all that we've missed out on with her. Later that night, Paul and I were feeling so bad for missing her so much...when we have Brad to miss too. Again...how do parents grieve 2 children at the same time? It's almost impossible and leaves you feeling nothing but guilt!</div><div> </div><div>Each day we wake up, drag ourselves out of bed and wonder, how do we get through today? The day drags on and on, until its time for bed again. For me, sleep is something that does not come easily. Paul on the other hand, can and does sleep. We are both on med's to help us, but my mind just never seems to shut off. </div><div> </div><div>On Friday, Paul and I are heading to Indiana to see our home. We were hoping to see the work in progress, but yesterday I received a call from the factory telling me that the home would be complete by Friday. We can still go down and see it though. We are hoping they built it the way we ordered it...with no glitches. I sure don't want us having to deal with that type of headache..I think we've got quite enough going on.</div><div> </div><div>Once our home is done and we've moved in. Paul and I will be getting back to counseling. I think we need more than just a "counselor" though. Not knocking counselors by any means, but I just feel we need some more in depth, one on one counseling. That should be a fun battle with our health insurance company.</div><div> </div><div>That's it for today. I am again, using my mom and dads computer..mine is a lost cause. So please excuse the way this post is going to look. I can not figure out how or why I can't blog from their computer. Who knows, I may not be able to post this once I finish!! I can type, but I can't edit one darn thing. About all I can do, is spell check. My computer was supposedly restored from the fire, but it just will not stay working. Who knows, maybe it's an easy fix...but sadly, my go to guy, Brad, isn't here to get it back up and running for me. </div><div> </div><div>Grrreeeaattt...I just hit my preview button and I see that even though my post looks like it has been typed up correctly in compose mode...it seems as if I have no paragraphs and that my layout looks odd in preview mode. Sheesh...if it's not one thing, its another!</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-38243137103858303852012-01-13T00:52:00.002-05:002012-01-13T01:45:00.295-05:00Finally....I have my computer and can now start back with my blogging. I didn't realize how therapeutic blogging is for a grieving mother.<br /><br />So much has been going on the past few months and I will do my best to post some status updates very soon, but it's really late and so I'll keep this post very short-/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ish</span>.<br /><br />We are all, still pretty much in a fog. A fog that I fear will never clear for us. We still don't have many answers as to what happened on that horrible night of October 8, 2011. The State Police are not satisfied with much of the evidence and, as of today, (1/12/12) this nearly closed case (regarding Brad's death) is now very much, re-opened and being re-investigated. And that's about all I can share with you, for the time being.<br /><br />Paul and I continue to live with my parents. Our insurance fiasco is almost complete. I can not stress enough the importance of reviewing your homeowners policy. Oh my GOSH!! Unbelievable, the wool they pull over your eyes.<br /><br />As for our home and whats happening on that end..-.. We lived in a modular home and we are having that replaced with a new one. It's being built now and should be done and shipped to Michigan on Feb 1. We are looking at moving in by mid February. During the first few weeks of our nightmare, our insurance Co had first thought that rebuilding our existing home would be best..but, thankfully, (Paul and I couldn't imagine having to go back to the very home our son died in) our adjuster realized the cost to rebuild, would likely cost more than just replacing it with a new home. So, we went to Indiana, looked at homes and picked one out. It was no easy task. Paul and I shed many tears as we looked for a new home. It was not fun. It was pure HELL.<br /><br />As far as how we are doing. Well, not so great. We have many moments that are almost unbearable. Just the other day Paul and I went to the doctor. Paul needed some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">med's</span> to help him sleep. While we were there, I mentioned to the doc that I had been having strange chest pains, but that I figured it was anxiety/stress. Doc checked me out and said all sounded good and that it was likely the anxiety. But I will be seeing my cardiologist and go through the whole stress test, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ekg</span>, echo..which I'm long overdue for. We both have many sleepless nights. I have more than Paul, but because Paul works every day, he needed some medication to help him out. I take enough <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">med's</span> and really don't want to add to my long list.<br /><br />Grieving your child is hard, exhausting work. Grieving two children drains every fiber of your being. We get out of bed each and every morning feeling as tho we never slept a wink all night. If by chance I do sleep half way decent at night, (5hrs is about my max., sleep time) I wake up feeling like I've been hit by a freaking truck. Its so hard feeling sick and tired every day. And I mean every day. I'm sick to my stomach every day. I'm having headaches on a daily basis. And honestly, just putting one foot in front of the other seems to be pretty dam hard these days.<br /><br />Ashleigh is about to finish up her "A" School (aka tech school) and then she will be back home for a couple of weeks to visit before she heads off to Norfolk Va. Paul and I are pretty happy that she will be "close" to us...about 10hrs away...but, that's only a days driving and that's a good thing for us. She seems to be doing okay. Although she did mention that she thinks she's going to need some counseling once she gets to Virginia. I'm thankful she realizes that and that she is willing to seek out some help for herself. I worry about her and I often wonder how she functions each day. I'm unsure how she continues to get up and do her job/training, knowing that she now has no siblings. I can't even begin imagine how that must feel for her. It hurts my heart even more when I think about Ash, having to go through her life without her brother and her sister.<br /><br />At some point, I will need to do another makeover on this blog. I have no idea how or what to do. Input would be greatly appreciated. I just know that somehow, I need to figure out how to put both Brad and Carly's pictures on the heading..but that will just have to wait until the kinks in my brain straighten out a tad bit.<br /><br /><h6 style="text-align: center;" class="uiStreamMessage" ft="{"type":1}"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="messageBody" ft="{"type":3}">Grief is a tidal wave that over takes you,<br />smashes down upon you with unimaginable force,<br />sweeps you up into its darkness,<br />where you tumble and crash against unidentifiable surfaces,<br />only to be thrown out on an unknown beach, bruised, reshaped...<br />Grief will make a new person out of you,<br />if it doesn't kill you in the making.<br /></span></span></h6><h6 style="text-align: center;" class="uiStreamMessage" ft="{"type":1}"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="messageBody" ft="{"type":3}">~Grieving Mothers~<br /></span></span></h6>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-2505130589366720992011-11-13T19:29:00.006-05:002011-11-13T20:10:26.700-05:00<div align="center">My grief is like a river</div><div align="center">I have to let it flow,</div><div align="center">But I myself determine </div><div align="center">Just where the banks will go. </div><div align="center"> Some days the current takes me</div><div align="center">In waves of guilt and pain,</div><div align="center">But there are always quiet pools </div><div align="center">Where I can rest again. </div><div align="center">I crash on rocks of anger</div><div align="center">My faith seems faint indeed,</div><div align="center">But there are other swimmers</div><div align="center">Who know that what I need</div><div align="center">Are loving hands to hold me</div><div align="center">When the waters are too swift,</div><div align="center">And someone kind to listen </div><div align="center">When I just seem to drift. </div><div align="center">Grief’s river is a process</div><div align="center">Of relinquishing the past.</div><div align="center">By swimming in Hope’s channels </div><div align="center">I’ll reach the shore at last. </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">~ Author Unknown ~</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Today, Paul and I had to go shopping. Shopping for clothes to wear to Ashleigh's up coming graduation. Neither of us were really in the "mood" to shop. We weren't in the mood to do anything. That's normally the case for us these days. It sucks. SUCKS! </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">As we were walking into a store this afternoon, I asked Paul, "Do you constantly feel pressure weighing heavily, down on your chest?" His reply, "Yep." And that's pretty much our feeling every day. We wake up feeling that way and we go to bed each night feeling that way. It sucks. SUCKS!</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">We had come so far, but still had so much farther to go with our grieving over Carly. But, we were getting to the place where, we could function. We could find some happiness again. Of course we were still lost without her. My gosh, she was our little miracle girl. Our little sidekick. Wherever we would go, she was a constant thought within our minds. We found ourselves often times wondering how we, as a family, would ever really come to terms with the fact that she was gone. Gone from us forever. It sucks. SUCKS!</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Now, here we go again. 18 months later, grieving yet another child. How are we suppose to do this? I never thought I would be grieving 2 of my children. My gosh, I never imagined I'd ever be grieving 1 child. What the heck is this crappy hand of life that we've been dealt? It sucks. SUCKS!</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">We can not believe that our 21 (22 now) year old son is GONE. We can't believe what took place within our home on that horrific night. We are shocked. Devastated. Heartbroken. Completely shattered. How will our family survive this? How are we suppose to? Why do we even need to figure out the how's and whys of trying to survive this? It sucks. SUCKS!</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">So many times throughout the day, I find myself wanting to ask Brad a question. For example; I'd like to ask him just what in the H E double L is up with grandma's computer. (sorry for the post..I can NOT get her computer to post correctly!) Brad would know what the problem is..and he'd be able to fix it for me. I also find myself wanting to order food for him. Last night we went to our favorite Chinese restaurant. We always ordered him vegetable egg rolls and Mongolian Beef. But last night, we didn't order for him. The owner of the restaurant knows us quite well..guess we frequent that place!! She was shocked to learn of Carly's death when we told her several months ago. We didn't have the guts to admit that our son had passed away. She didn't ask about him like she did Carly..I was thankful for that. I know her chin would have hit the floor if she had asked us. Most people do find their chins on the floor when they learn we've lost 2 children in less than 18 flipping months. It sucks. SUCKS!</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">When I started this blog, the main purpose was to network with hundreds/thousands of Down Syndrome mom's and dad's. This blog was basically my bragging and venting blog. It was created for Carly. With the exception of some bragging on our other 2 kids as well. Now look what it's turned into. A sad, depressing, grieving mothers blog who continues to have downer posts. I'm so sorry. This is NOT the way I intended my blog to turn out. It sucks. SUCKS!</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">I will do a post about Brad and the life of BRAD, in the next couple of weeks. I know many of you don't "know" much about him. He was kind of a private person and would not have approved of me blogging much about him. He would have a FIT and fell in it, had he known I ever posted one single thing about him..and included pictures too. Whenever I did a post with pic's of Brad, I hid what I was doing from him...yep, he was THAT private. He didn't bother anyone and he expected the same from everyone else. I promise, I will blog all about Brad and the great person, friend, son, brother, grandson, nephew and cousin that he was, very soon. </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Again, sorry about this screwy blog posting I have going on. I will be <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">soo</span> happy to get my own computer again....someday.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255951012222677498.post-57312325680288892062011-11-11T09:38:00.006-05:002011-11-11T12:11:40.179-05:007 Days...<div>until we see Ashleigh again. Knowing that we would be seeing her has given us something to look forward to during the past month. We are VERY anxious and excited to see Ash next week. I'm sure it will be a very emotional reunion.</div><div> </div><div>We received a letter from Ash the other day, telling us that on 11/8 she would be going into the gas chamber. I, myself would have been freaked out by that....not Ash, she was excited and seemed to be looking forward to do it! The Navy has been keeping her very, very busy and that is likely a good thing. This Saturday they are having the Captains Cup, which means that each division compete against each other, kind of like school kids having field days. She sounds pretty excited about it. Another task she will take on this week is being placed on a simulated ship, built by Disney. Her Chief has told them to "prepare yourselves, it's very much reality." They are kept up for 40 straight hours with no food. Again, she is looking forward to it. She says, "sounds like fun." Once all of that is complete, they are considered Sailors!</div><div> </div><div>As for her emotional/mental state concerning the death of Brad, she is very confused. She is angry and so hurt that so many people who know our family, had started gossiping about our son, her brother and the cause of his death. It's so hurtful when others run their mouths. It has hurt her deeply. As I've said before, WE knew our son..those who talk and speculate, did NOT. And those who talk/gossip/speculate have no flipping idea what the State Police have shared with us. Poor Ashleigh is not able to come to terms with the fact that she has no siblings left. I imagine its pretty hard to wrap her brain around what has happened to our family while having to focus on getting through basic training. She says that the reality has not fully hit her yet and she fears and dreads the day it does. We dread it for her :*( too. </div><div> </div><div>Although we will only have Friday (11/18) to actually spend with Ashleigh, we are all looking very forward to it. Her graduation is at 9am ending at 10:30am and from there, she is granted "liberty", which means a day pass and she will be able to leave the base and head into Chicago with us to spend much of the day. On Saturday (11/19), Ash will be taken to the Airport bright and early...like 3am...where she will sit for some several hours before being placed on a plane and taken to her next base. I think we are going to make a stop at the airport and spend some time with her there as well. Once on the plane, she will head to Mississippi where she will be attending schooling for 8 weeks. She has asked that Paul and I come to her for Christmas this year. Nothing is definite yet, we are still waiting to see if she may possibly get leave time to come home for the holidays. But, if she prefers us going to her, then we will. We're going to do whatever she would like. If being home with us and my family, then we'll do that, but if not...we will be in Mississippi this Christmas. I don't even want to think "Christmas" it scares the crap out of me this year. </div><div> </div><div>Next Monday we meet with the insurance agent and our new adjuster..I got the other adjuster removed from our claim...only to now find out he has been bad mouthing us, (since being removed) to people we've called in for quotes/estimates that we have being gathered. NOT, cool! Safe to say, we are not looking forward to our meeting. </div><div> </div><div>We do however, look forward to getting all this insurance garb out of the way. We'd like to be able to actually let our grief take over and not be dealing with back and forth crap from the insurance company. I've never run across people who have no compassion like these insurance people...sheesh. We are floored by all this insurance crap. Just when you think you've paid your premiums for 18yrs to have homeowners insurance..and be covered,,just in case the unimaginable happens...your eyes are opened to a whole knew piece of the insurance puzzle when the unimaginable does happen. </div><div> </div><div>7 days...can't wait till this week passes!</div><div> </div><div>**most of this post has been done on my phone..hopefully, it will post okay. I would really like my own computer again!</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05559379825105852488noreply@blogger.com6