The Years Continue On

Dusting 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 21 posts sitting in my draft folder! I had forgotten about every single one of them. But there they sat, unfinished and of various topics.

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 screaming at the doctor and nurses. SCREAMING at them to save 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.

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.

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.

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.

April 23, 2010. 4 years ago today, we lost our sweet little Carly. How in the HELL did this all happen? Within 1 1/2 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

 ~The following are a few of the many cliches we've heard over the last 4 years~

 Everything happens for a reason.  God has a plan.  She is in a better place.  She is free from pain.  Things will get better.  Life gets easier.  Life goes on.  She's in the arms of Jesus.  She's dancing with the Angels.  Oh what a glorious place she's in now.  I can't even imagine...and on and on and on.

Well you know what? Everything happens for a reason 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.

Gods plan. Ha! It ain't working so well for me...what kind of plan rips children from the arms of a loving family?

A better place. Really?!?! How do YOU know that? Have you been to this place personally?

Free from pain? She wasn't in any pain until that split second just before she dropped over from a heart attack.

Things get better? Hmmm, when would that be? How is anything better after you bury your child/children?

Life gets easier? After 4 years, there has been no easy part of life.

Life goes on? Well no shit!

She's in the arms of Jesus. 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.

She's dancing with Angels. She danced just fine here at home with her family.

Oh what a glorious place she's in now. Really? Have you been there?  Again, do you want to pick one of your children to go spend the rest of your living days in this glorious place while you're left here? Nope, didn't think so.

I can't imagine....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.

What we 'hear' when someone says those ever lovin' cliches??? Suck it up. Get over it. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. It's not that bad. 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.... -  Life isn't fair, not just for you. 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.

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 whole family, before we were suddenly broken. We know that we cant. So here we stay as the years continue on.

(My Facebook friend made this for me. Thank you Ena!)

Treasure Each Moment

...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. :)

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.

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!

Enjoy your July 4th 2012. Be safe. And always remember, Treasure Each Moment, make lots and LOTS of memories...one never knows what tomorrow may bring.

May 24, 1986

...one has no way, to even attempt to imagine, all that can take place within 26yrs.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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...

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.

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.

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.

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?
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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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, ever 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.

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.

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).

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.

"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, one of those days?" Sadly, we both said at the very same time, "Some days are just plain worse than others." And today would be, One Of Those Days.

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.


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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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, One Of Those Days.

**hopeful the video's posted right. This new way to post thing, has me a bit confused**

April 23

Is one of our most dreaded days.

Hard to wrap our brains around the fact that we no longer are able to enjoy this sweet little girl, every day.

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.

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.

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.

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 both 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.)

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.

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.

10 Years Ago

...today, our family faced what we thought would be the most difficult time in our lives.

April 5, 2002.
Carly was taken back to surgery at 7am.
Open heart surgery.
Surgery that would last about 6yrs.
A surgery that no doctors were confident about doing.
Odds were stacked against her.
She had less than a 20% chance to come out of it alive.

She survived.
Much to the surprise of Motts Cardiac Doctors.
Her surgery deemed, a success!

13 hours after surgery, Carly coded/crashed.
The entire ICU swarmed her bedside.
One nurse straddled over Carly's gurney.
Paul and I stood back and watched in horror.
We later learned, the nurse who straddle over Carly,
had her hands placed on Carly's tiny heart, massaging it.
Carly had a pulmonary hemorrhage..her lungs were shot to HELL!

The equipment you see in the above pictures,
is ECMO and yes, it's as scary as it looks.
But, BUT after 3 1/2 days, ECMO saved our sweet girl.
She beat the odds stacked so high against her.
She fought her way back.

31 days after surgery...we brought her back home.
Healthy.

And now, besides our memories,
both good ones and even the bad ones,
this is what we are left with.

Our hearts beyond broken.
Our hearts completely shattered.

How can 10 years have passed so quickly?
How can all that was fought for be gone?

10 years.
Unbelievable.

Memories

"Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love,

the things you are, the things you never want to lose."

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 full 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

**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.