International Bereaved Mother's Day

Today 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.

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 not bereaved mother's, to remember those of us who are.

~~~~Remember~~~~ 

A bereaved mother, is still a mother.
She always will be.
A bereaved mother will still face Mother's Day each year. 

Another Mother's Day without their beloved children. 

Another day in which we are reminded of the precious lives that we have lost.

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 never 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.

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.

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.



 

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.

I'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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

Guess that's about it for today. I'll try to be better at blogging and not be MIA for so long!

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.

We 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...er, 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

*******

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.

Mother's Day

This Mother's Day, I have a whole different take on the meaning. 

Honestly, I dread the day.  

Likely, no more than I dread every day.

But, this day...

The day when mother's are happily enjoying their day and their children. 

I yearn for mine. 

Missing ALL, of my kids.

 And wish nothing more than to have all 3 of them here, with me, on this day. 

Instead, I will visit 2 of them at the cemetery.

But, I will be thankful to be able to talk to Ashleigh on the phone.

So happy that she's just a phone call away.

Happy Mother's Day, to all who are able to enjoy their children. Squeeze those kids

just a little tighter today. One never knows what tomorrow may bring.

Happy Mother's Day to all those who grieve the loss of their children.

May we all find some sort of comfort on this day.

The Dream

As 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.

I talked with Ashleigh on the 8th. She told me about, The Dream 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.

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."

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.

Sure, we've been having some pretty strong signs of Brad's presence around here. Carly's too, for that matter. But nothing like, The Dream that Ashleigh had the other night.

************

I'm trying to do a blog makeover. Please pay no attention to the jumbled, under construction look!

Just For Today

Just for today I will try to live through the next 24 hours
and not expect to get over my child’s death,
but instead learn to live with it, just one day at a time.

Just for today I will remember my childs life, not just his (& her) death,
and bask in the comfort of all those treasured days
and moments we shared.

Just for today I will forgive all the family and friends
who didn’t help or comfort me the way I needed them to.
They truly did not know how.

Just for today I will smile no matter how much I hurt on the inside,
for maybe if I smile a little, my heart will soften and I will begin to heal.

Just for today I will reach out to comfort a relative or friend of my child,
for they are hurting too, and perhaps we can help each other. 

Just for today I will free myself from my self-inflicted burden of guilt,
for deep in my heart I know if there was anything in this world
I could of done to save my child(ren) from death, I would of done it.

Just for today I will honor my child’s memory by doing something with another child
because I know that would make my own child proud. 

Just for today I will offer my hand in friendship
to another bereaved parent for I do know how they feel. 

Just for today when my heart feels like breaking,
I will stop and remember that grief is the price we pay for loving
and the only reason I hurt is because I had the privilege of loving so much.

Just for today I will not compare myself with others.
I am fortunate to be who I am and have had my child for as long as I did. 

Just for today I will allow myself to be happy, 

for I know that I am not deserting him/her 

by living on.

Just for today I will accept that I did not die when my child did,
my life did go on, and I am the only one who can make that life worthwhile once more.

 by Vicki Tushingham

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 can actually "see" them. But for us, it was especially difficult because Brad's funeral was a closed casket. 


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. 


So, Just For Today, I will try extra hard...but I can't make any promises for the days, months, years to come. 


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.

"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.

The Cable Guy

Earlier 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.

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."

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.

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."

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 hurts 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."

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.

There are many times I think that I can not go on. I've been feeling completely exhausted-to the point that I'm going to see the doctor as soon as we get back next week. 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.

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."

Just A Coincidence

...or a sign?

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!

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!

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). Just A Coincidence or a sign?? 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.

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. Just A Coincidence or a sign? Again, no idea. But we think maybe, just m a y b e, both Carly and Brad were with us today.

Through all my counseling, reading, and research on grief and grieving, I've read and been told countless times.."there will be signs." 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 Just A Coincidence...or a sign?

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.

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.

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 super 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.

A Sign?

Paul and I went over to our house earlier this evening. And we think we may have had, A Sign from our sweet little Carly.

Purple Flowers!

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.

We are kind of thinking this is A Sign 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.

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!

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!

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 A Sign, from Brad.

A few questions...

...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, "I'm doing okay." Which is really, very far from the truth!

One question that I often get asked is - "how do you do it?" I assume, "it" 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 "it". 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 "it" very well. But, I've learned that people are so uncomfortable with the truth, that I seem to just give the easiest answer possible..."I'm doing okay."

Another question I've been asked several times is - "what's the hardest part of what you're going through?" 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.

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.

Another question Paul and I get asked a lot..and I mean A LOT - "are you angry/mad at God?" 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."

As far as questions go, believe you me...we have a lot of them. I'll share with you a few of those question. We struggle with these questions daily. Often times, several times, daily.

Why our family?

Why our kids?

Why can’t we feel their presence, (like those grieving parents before us, claim we can) on a daily basis?

Why wasn't it us?

Why do we feel so exhausted each day?

When will our heart shattering pain lessen?
When will we have any feeling of "normalcy" again?

Is this all there is to our "normalcy" now?

When will our up and down days, turn into more "up" days and less "down" days?

Is our life left to "down" days, for the rest of our lives?

When will our guilt end?

Is it really "normal" to feel such quilt?

When will my horrible dreams of my 2 children end?

Do I really want my horrible dreams to end?

Are we going crazy?

Are our kids together now?

Are they happy?

Where, exactly are our kids?

What's it like for them now?

Is there life beyond?

Where was God on April 23, 2010 as Carly fought so freaking hard to survive?

Where was God on October 8, 2011 as our home burned as our son lie inside?

What kind of God puts a family through such horror?

Why did God fail our family?

Is there even God?

Is there a Heaven?

How are we suppose to go on with our lives?

Will happiness ever find us again?

How does a mother go on without 2 of her children and where does she even begin?

What are we suppose to do now?

What comes next?

Is more heartbreak ahead?

When is enough...ENOUGH?

And those are only an example of some 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.

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 hard. 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.

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.

Brad would most definitely, NOT like this picture of him shown.. because
he had lost so much weight after this picture and before his death.
But, I love this picture. Carly was checking him out..likely wishing
she could stand by her "sissy"... and he was checking her out. They
had a very special bond. And I sure do hope whatever is out there after death..whatever
it may be, that they are together again.

Survivor, Surviving...

My Mom Is A Survivor

My Mom is a survivor, or so I've heard it said.
But I hear her crying at night when all others are in bed.
I watch her lay awake at night and go to hold her hand.
She doesn't know I'm with her to help her understand.
But like the sands on the beach that never wash away...
I watch over my surviving mom, who thinks of me each day.
She wears a smile for others...a smile of disguise.
But through Heaven's door I see tears flowing from her eyes.
My mom tries to cope with death to keep my memory alive.
But anyone who knows her knows it is her way to survive.
As I watch over my surviving mom...through Heaven's open door.
I try to tell her that angels protect me forever more.
But I know that doesn't help her or ease the burden she bears.
So if you get a chance, go visit her...And show her that you care.
For no matter what she says...no matter what she feels.
My surviving mom has a broken heart that time won't ever heal~
~unknown~

********************

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.

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.

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.

They say, whoever they are...the experts on grief, I guess. Anyway, they 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. They, 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.

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.

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.

Surviving, is an awful hard job.