Yesterday, I met a new friend. I took Samantha and Callie to Rock
Canyon Park to play and relax before I went out with some friends.
Grandma and Grandpa would be putting them to bed, and I was trying to
assure that they would, indeed, be tired and go to bed -- the kids that is. While at the
park, I met Argie. She's a dear older woman with a heart of pure gold.
She then introduced me to her daughter-in-law. I was briefly told the
story of Julie's son, Brigham, and felt that there was a reason we met
that day. I felt uplifted by her tenderness, sincerity, and the
immediate connection with her ~ all of this needed after a rather tough
emotional week for me.
We exchanged contact
information and this morning I spent some time reading about dear
Brigham Reneer online. I read an article in the Deseret News. I read
from Argie's blog. I read as much as I could because I was just falling in love with this boy's smile, courage, and Christ-like example. Truly.
Death, itself, is not what hurts my heart. I
do not cry for those who pass on, but for those who remain and wait for
their reunion. It's the days, weeks, and months that follow that I
often think about. I think about the small moments when a parent passes their child's empty room. Or when that darn lost sock shows up in the laundry basket and sparks uncontrolled tears.
At the one year mark of Brigham's
death, family friend's created a video. I watched it and was so touched
at how they explained the first year without their son. It is
beautiful and real. Painful and filled with hope and love. Charity.
Pure love.
It has been over 2 years since Brigham passed away and Julie still teared up as she told me how hard it is to take care of our special needs kids, but when they're gone, we miss it...every little tough thing about it, we want it back. The Savior can heal our hearts. I have no doubt about that. But I also believe when you love so deeply like that, tears will still flow...even for an earthly lifetime.
Showing posts with label Friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friends. Show all posts
Friday, March 16, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Better
I was about to sit down and update Samantha's blog. It's been a while and I felt like it was time to post some new stuff. We are in Utah again for Samantha's therapy session at Now I Can. I wanted to talk about our trip out here and how she's doing today. But I've had very limited internet access since being here...and so I thought I'd take some time to catch up on blogs I follow.
I wept as I read about Caleb's last 24 hours with his family. I am not sure how a mother goes through that pain of losing their child, yet I know people do it every day. I have been so touched and strengthened through the pain and loss of people like April and Becky and Erin, and so many others. It sounds so selfish and horrible, actually, but it's true. During these painful yet sacred moments, as these valient women, who I consider my friends, walk through their own Gethsemanes and then truthfully share their raw feelings, they radiate their faith, testimony, and pure love. There is no doubt in my mind that the Spirit is nearby, that their children are nearby, that angels are surrounding them, and that the Savior knows their pain.
I am forever changed, and a better person, for knowing these mothers, families, and these angelic children. My heart aches and I weep, sometimes sob, thinking about their loss, but they make me a better person.
So, I will update later, and I for now, I'll let their words and spirits simmer in my heart as I continue to daily pray for them.
I wept as I read about Caleb's last 24 hours with his family. I am not sure how a mother goes through that pain of losing their child, yet I know people do it every day. I have been so touched and strengthened through the pain and loss of people like April and Becky and Erin, and so many others. It sounds so selfish and horrible, actually, but it's true. During these painful yet sacred moments, as these valient women, who I consider my friends, walk through their own Gethsemanes and then truthfully share their raw feelings, they radiate their faith, testimony, and pure love. There is no doubt in my mind that the Spirit is nearby, that their children are nearby, that angels are surrounding them, and that the Savior knows their pain.
I am forever changed, and a better person, for knowing these mothers, families, and these angelic children. My heart aches and I weep, sometimes sob, thinking about their loss, but they make me a better person.
So, I will update later, and I for now, I'll let their words and spirits simmer in my heart as I continue to daily pray for them.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
When You Know Her
Recently, I've read two articles in two different newspapers, written by two very different people...about Samantha.
The first article was written by a local journalist who writes for the local paper here. Her articles are picked up and published in the San Jose Mercury News. She's been a writer for a long time. Though I didn't know her personally, my experience with her was very pleasant. I was touched by her kindness and sincerity. As I've posted earlier, her article can be found here.
Then, just a few days later, a second article was published in The Eleight -- Leigh High School's newspaper. This article was written by a senior who writes a column about her senior experience. I don't know how long she's been writing, but she's talented and has a bright future. I happen to know this journalist personally, and my experience with her is always pleasant. I am constantly touched by her kindness and sincerity. She goes above and beyond what others would think of as "nice," "generous," "thoughtful." She takes after her parents that way...they're an awesome and poweful force...this incredible family. Her article can be found here, and it's worth a read.
There are some similarities in these 2 articles:
* The subject: Samantha
* The plug: Sweatin' for Sammy 5k
* Some back history
However, as nice as both the articles were, Ms. Sydney Black's was just so touching to me. Why? How is it that a senior in high school could evoke such emotion from me? Naturally, I was touched that this person I knew had such strong feelings about Samantha...but that's just it. Sydney knows Samantha. She plays with her. She helps me with therapy. She holds her and comforts her. She sees her every Sunday and throughout the week. She's part Black, part Green.
And it's made me think: what happens when we get to know people? For me, I become more invested -- especially if I like ya -- and more attached. I feel more deeply. An article about a situation/story/or little girl can be touching. But when it's written by someone who knows her...when you know her...it's just so much different. And...that's made me think. Don't we all have someone in our lives that we just wish people would take the time to know? We think when you get to know her...if you'd just take the time to know him like I do...you'd see. You'll fall madly in love with my little girl when you know her.
Anyway...just some thoughts swirling around the 'ole noggin tonight. I'm feeling very grateful for my friends, and for strangers, who already are falling in love with Samantha...and I sincerely hope that they'll all get to know her on a different level one day. Possible? Probably not. But a mom can still hope.
The first article was written by a local journalist who writes for the local paper here. Her articles are picked up and published in the San Jose Mercury News. She's been a writer for a long time. Though I didn't know her personally, my experience with her was very pleasant. I was touched by her kindness and sincerity. As I've posted earlier, her article can be found here.
Then, just a few days later, a second article was published in The Eleight -- Leigh High School's newspaper. This article was written by a senior who writes a column about her senior experience. I don't know how long she's been writing, but she's talented and has a bright future. I happen to know this journalist personally, and my experience with her is always pleasant. I am constantly touched by her kindness and sincerity. She goes above and beyond what others would think of as "nice," "generous," "thoughtful." She takes after her parents that way...they're an awesome and poweful force...this incredible family. Her article can be found here, and it's worth a read.
There are some similarities in these 2 articles:
* The subject: Samantha
* The plug: Sweatin' for Sammy 5k
* Some back history
However, as nice as both the articles were, Ms. Sydney Black's was just so touching to me. Why? How is it that a senior in high school could evoke such emotion from me? Naturally, I was touched that this person I knew had such strong feelings about Samantha...but that's just it. Sydney knows Samantha. She plays with her. She helps me with therapy. She holds her and comforts her. She sees her every Sunday and throughout the week. She's part Black, part Green.
And it's made me think: what happens when we get to know people? For me, I become more invested -- especially if I like ya -- and more attached. I feel more deeply. An article about a situation/story/or little girl can be touching. But when it's written by someone who knows her...when you know her...it's just so much different. And...that's made me think. Don't we all have someone in our lives that we just wish people would take the time to know? We think when you get to know her...if you'd just take the time to know him like I do...you'd see. You'll fall madly in love with my little girl when you know her.
Anyway...just some thoughts swirling around the 'ole noggin tonight. I'm feeling very grateful for my friends, and for strangers, who already are falling in love with Samantha...and I sincerely hope that they'll all get to know her on a different level one day. Possible? Probably not. But a mom can still hope.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Reality Check
Samantha,
You are a light in my life. In so many ways, you make me a better person. You give me perspective and true happiness. You inspire me.
I'm working on a book ~ because of you. Because of what you have taught me. Because of the road you've led me on. A book. This morning I emailed someone who is contributing a part of this book...and I cried. I wept as I wrote about how her story was inspiring...but I wept because of what she went through. She lost her son, at a very very young age. And I kept thinking of you. What would I do without you? I would feel so empty.
And then I read a blog post of a friend of mine. She wrote about her daughter, Leah. Remember Leah? Though you both are so different, she reminds me of you. Her smile that brightens the entire room. Her big, shining eyes. Her long hair always done up. (I try Sammy. I really do. It may not look nice by the end of the day, but I try.) And then there's the lack of control over your bodies. And the lack of verbal communication that must make it so frustrating for you both. Leah is so precious. She's a good friend to have. And her mom was writing about Leah, about how things happen that are out of their control, and how she fears losing her. I've been an emotional mess. The thought of Leah leaving them is killing me. I don't think it's in the near future, but I ache right now for them. Ache.
As I've been working on this book, I've been thinking a lot about faith and hope. These are good things. Great things. They are what keep us going. And that is precisely why I'm doing this book. But, today, the reality of the lives we live hit me. No matter how much faith you have, there is still real pain. Job was a very good man, but he wasn't spared pain and horrible trial. Faith will help us, but we still have to go through it all, and sometimes, I just don't want to. I don't want my friends to. I don't want anyone to go through it. I can struggle through the years with you, but the thought of having you go...I can't really bear that right now. So stick with me kid. Ok? Because I think I need you for a little longer.
Love you to pieces,
Mommy
You are a light in my life. In so many ways, you make me a better person. You give me perspective and true happiness. You inspire me.
I'm working on a book ~ because of you. Because of what you have taught me. Because of the road you've led me on. A book. This morning I emailed someone who is contributing a part of this book...and I cried. I wept as I wrote about how her story was inspiring...but I wept because of what she went through. She lost her son, at a very very young age. And I kept thinking of you. What would I do without you? I would feel so empty.
And then I read a blog post of a friend of mine. She wrote about her daughter, Leah. Remember Leah? Though you both are so different, she reminds me of you. Her smile that brightens the entire room. Her big, shining eyes. Her long hair always done up. (I try Sammy. I really do. It may not look nice by the end of the day, but I try.) And then there's the lack of control over your bodies. And the lack of verbal communication that must make it so frustrating for you both. Leah is so precious. She's a good friend to have. And her mom was writing about Leah, about how things happen that are out of their control, and how she fears losing her. I've been an emotional mess. The thought of Leah leaving them is killing me. I don't think it's in the near future, but I ache right now for them. Ache.
As I've been working on this book, I've been thinking a lot about faith and hope. These are good things. Great things. They are what keep us going. And that is precisely why I'm doing this book. But, today, the reality of the lives we live hit me. No matter how much faith you have, there is still real pain. Job was a very good man, but he wasn't spared pain and horrible trial. Faith will help us, but we still have to go through it all, and sometimes, I just don't want to. I don't want my friends to. I don't want anyone to go through it. I can struggle through the years with you, but the thought of having you go...I can't really bear that right now. So stick with me kid. Ok? Because I think I need you for a little longer.
Love you to pieces,
Mommy
Friday, August 27, 2010
This Mare Eats Oats
Maren, a friend of mine from back in our BYU days, is a fantastic person. Our paths crossed for a short time at school, and we reconnected when I moved out to California. She lives not too far away, and it was fun to know someone in the area. When Maren's daughter was diagnosed with Rett Syndrome, I remembered what it was like to get the news that my life was going to change forever. That I was entering the "special needs" arena. I felt a different connection with her ~ and her attitude, her realness, her drive and determination have made me respect and love and be in awe of her even more.
Recently Maren asked a group of women to share "How I Do It." She asked li'l 'ole me to be one of those women. I was flattered. Today, my post is up on her blog. I have written about Samantha many times, but I've never sat down to think about her and our life in these terms ~ how do I do it? It was good for me to write. So, go on over and check out This Mare Eats Oats...and while you're there, check out the other stories. They are truly inspirational.
Recently Maren asked a group of women to share "How I Do It." She asked li'l 'ole me to be one of those women. I was flattered. Today, my post is up on her blog. I have written about Samantha many times, but I've never sat down to think about her and our life in these terms ~ how do I do it? It was good for me to write. So, go on over and check out This Mare Eats Oats...and while you're there, check out the other stories. They are truly inspirational.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Heartache
Sweet Samantha,
Today my heart aches. Last night, you had a very rough night. I wasn't sure why, though I assumed it was your cold. You woke up Callie, and I ended up "sleeping" in your room the rest of the night (which as you know means I didn't sleep at all). We didn't go to church today. At 4am, I decided we weren't going to church today. Around 5am you had a seizure in my arms. That hasn't happened in a while. Poor sweet girl. You were asleep when I heard the clicking sound in your throat -- you struggling for air I've always assumed. I put you on your side and begged you to come out of it quickly as I realized I only brought one Diastat to Michigan with us, and I always like to have a spare. You came out of it and began to kick your legs pretty severely as you've been doing the past 6 months or so when you come out of your seizures. Then, surprisingly, you feel right back to sleep in my arms. I've been going to the chiropracter here to fix my neck pain from the car accident, and I'm finally feeling normal. But after last night, my neck isn't feeling so pretty again. It was worth it. Every moment.
My heart isn't necessarily aching because of your seizure. Those suck. Let's be honest. I hate that you have them and it makes me sad every single time. Luckily, professionals believe there was a loss of consciousness during grand mals, so hopefully you don't remember much when they are done. What is really aching my heart, however, is news that we received this morning about a friend of ours. Their son, about 26 years old, is married and they have a baby. Last night, he had some seizures, and is now in the hospital with no brain activity. His seizures were the result of a different problem that occurred, but it still makes me fear for the day when you have a seizure, and that's it. I'll hold you in my arms as you convulse, but you won't come out of it. And instead of my heart aching, it will shatter. And I wonder at my ability to pick up all the little pieces. What would I ever do without you Sammy? I ache for our friends who are now suffering. I think about how much pain I would feel if we were to lose you, and we've only had 4 wonderful years with you. They are sitting in the hospital remembering 26 years of love and sacrifice and...love. Oh how I ache for them, and so much dread that day for us.
I do find peace in knowing that families are forever -- but the pain, I know, is still very real. I love you sweet girl. You are the sunshine in my life. You are amazing in all ways. You just light up a room with your smile, and you have lit up our lives. I'm not sure how it all worked out, but I'm sure lucky to be your mom. I love you with everything I have in me.
You'll always be my baby girl.
Mommy
Today my heart aches. Last night, you had a very rough night. I wasn't sure why, though I assumed it was your cold. You woke up Callie, and I ended up "sleeping" in your room the rest of the night (which as you know means I didn't sleep at all). We didn't go to church today. At 4am, I decided we weren't going to church today. Around 5am you had a seizure in my arms. That hasn't happened in a while. Poor sweet girl. You were asleep when I heard the clicking sound in your throat -- you struggling for air I've always assumed. I put you on your side and begged you to come out of it quickly as I realized I only brought one Diastat to Michigan with us, and I always like to have a spare. You came out of it and began to kick your legs pretty severely as you've been doing the past 6 months or so when you come out of your seizures. Then, surprisingly, you feel right back to sleep in my arms. I've been going to the chiropracter here to fix my neck pain from the car accident, and I'm finally feeling normal. But after last night, my neck isn't feeling so pretty again. It was worth it. Every moment.
My heart isn't necessarily aching because of your seizure. Those suck. Let's be honest. I hate that you have them and it makes me sad every single time. Luckily, professionals believe there was a loss of consciousness during grand mals, so hopefully you don't remember much when they are done. What is really aching my heart, however, is news that we received this morning about a friend of ours. Their son, about 26 years old, is married and they have a baby. Last night, he had some seizures, and is now in the hospital with no brain activity. His seizures were the result of a different problem that occurred, but it still makes me fear for the day when you have a seizure, and that's it. I'll hold you in my arms as you convulse, but you won't come out of it. And instead of my heart aching, it will shatter. And I wonder at my ability to pick up all the little pieces. What would I ever do without you Sammy? I ache for our friends who are now suffering. I think about how much pain I would feel if we were to lose you, and we've only had 4 wonderful years with you. They are sitting in the hospital remembering 26 years of love and sacrifice and...love. Oh how I ache for them, and so much dread that day for us.
I do find peace in knowing that families are forever -- but the pain, I know, is still very real. I love you sweet girl. You are the sunshine in my life. You are amazing in all ways. You just light up a room with your smile, and you have lit up our lives. I'm not sure how it all worked out, but I'm sure lucky to be your mom. I love you with everything I have in me.
You'll always be my baby girl.
Mommy
Pictures of you January, 2008.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Alice
Little Sammer,
Today is your last day of school! I can't believe it! And something occurred to me today, for the first time. Yesterday Alice told me that she may not be driving you next year. She got all teary-eyed talking about how hard it is for her each year -- when she loses her kids to other bus drivers. What?! I told her she can't go. You like her too much. I like her too much.
And today, as you left on the bus, it occurred to me that I may have to change bus drivers every year! Really, I know this is harder for me than it is for you...but that just breaks my heart. I love Alice -- so does Callie (even though she looks less than thrilled in this picture). Alice was your first bus driver. She's always smiling and laughing and she has the kindest most gentle tone in her voice. I love that woman. The first day she drove you away, I cried...but Alice makes it all better. She reassured me that you were happy and even have a boyfriend now -- little Harrison. (I saw him with his arm around you the other day...don't try to play it off like it's nothing.)
Oh Sammy, we'll have to adjust year after year, but we'll be ok. At least Alice started us off real well.
I love you baby. Have a great day on your LAST day of school!
Love,
Mommy
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Sandwich, Massachusettes
My mind is spinning with thoughts and I don't feel tired (though I really should be at this time of night). I'm thinking about Samantha a lot tonight...I'm thinking about Callie a lot tonight...and I'm thinking about our #3 child who we will one day, some day, adopt in the near (?) future -- a lot. To numb my mind a little bit, I looked at my site meter and find that someone looked at this blog from Sandwich, MA! Sandwich. Now if that isn't the coolest city, I don't know what is. So, Mr. or Ms. Sandwich, MA, friend -- can I call you friend? -- if you ever come back, know that you have helped me go to sleep tonight, because after stumbling across that, I feel surprisingly satisfied.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
I Miss You Already
Sweet Sweet Samantha,
My heart is aching right now, just really really aching. There's a little friend of yours, who we never met, but also had a diagnosis of microcephaly. His name was Ben. Do you remember me telling you about him? Well, he just died a couple days ago and I just found out. We don't know the details, but I think it was pretty fast and unexpected.
Sammy, do you know what I want to do right now? I want to run into your room, risk waking you up, just so I can hold you all night long. I can't imagine my life without you, and it kills me knowing that some day I may have to face this same scenario. Ben was only 8 years old. You will be 4 in a few weeks. Little girl, you're getting old! But still, you haven't been with me long enough. Four more years won't be enough. Ten more years won't be enough. I love you so much, you know that? Please, stay with me for as long as you can, ok? Because just thinking of you gone makes me miss you already.
So, as I sit here crying, hurting for this family and then, of course, thinking of you...I am so grateful to know that not only do you have a great daddy here, but we have a Father in Heaven too...and He loves us...and I don't say this lightly when I tell you that everything will be ok, no matter what. Oh, I'll have to remind myself of this a lot, but it's the truth.
I love you sweet girl. I won't wake you up...just peek in your room.
Sweet Dreams.
Mommy
My heart is aching right now, just really really aching. There's a little friend of yours, who we never met, but also had a diagnosis of microcephaly. His name was Ben. Do you remember me telling you about him? Well, he just died a couple days ago and I just found out. We don't know the details, but I think it was pretty fast and unexpected.
Sammy, do you know what I want to do right now? I want to run into your room, risk waking you up, just so I can hold you all night long. I can't imagine my life without you, and it kills me knowing that some day I may have to face this same scenario. Ben was only 8 years old. You will be 4 in a few weeks. Little girl, you're getting old! But still, you haven't been with me long enough. Four more years won't be enough. Ten more years won't be enough. I love you so much, you know that? Please, stay with me for as long as you can, ok? Because just thinking of you gone makes me miss you already.
So, as I sit here crying, hurting for this family and then, of course, thinking of you...I am so grateful to know that not only do you have a great daddy here, but we have a Father in Heaven too...and He loves us...and I don't say this lightly when I tell you that everything will be ok, no matter what. Oh, I'll have to remind myself of this a lot, but it's the truth.
I love you sweet girl. I won't wake you up...just peek in your room.
Sweet Dreams.
Mommy
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