A Year Ago Today

 Most days I wake up thinking, “What were we doing a year ago today?” It seems so long ago, yet so fresh in my mind. So foggy, yet with crystal clear flashbacks of what her little skin felt like. Her pudgy hand in mine, her sweet voice and funny saying are all thing that run on a loop throughout my day. Am I sad? Yes…no…always…maybe…absolutely. Grief encompasses so much confusion. There are so many BIG emotions that swirl around together until you are not sure which ones you will land on or how long you will be there. It has become common to laugh and cry in the same sentence.

~ I am sad Millie is not here, that I have missed each of the last 10 months of my life with her. I miss so much about her!

~I am grateful that she is not in pain, suffering through the endless procedures trying to put on a brave front. She would beg us please not to do it again. She would yell, “I NOT brave!!” …yet she was one of the bravest people I know. She TRUSTED us even though we had to allow others to hurt her—sometimes even inflicting the pain ourselves. She showered us with kisses and love, knowing that we never wanted her life to hold that kind of pain.

~I am scared that I might forget her smell, the feel of her body, her funny sayings or cute expressions. I get scared that others will forget her, that she really existed. She was a baby I loved, a toddler I adored, a little girl that was amazing! I want her memory to be a sweet one to everyone that knew her, but even to those that just knew her legacy.

~I am happy that she is with Jesus. I have NO DOUBT that before we are accountable for our actions we are accepted straight into heaven upon death. There is no wondering or worrying…Millie is forever with our Lord. She did not understand sin yet, but she did know Jesus loved her and she prayed to him often. Praying for her friends with cancer, her sisters, and brothers, and even for herself. “Dear God please take away my cancer!” He answered her prayer in the purest way… Not my will by thine, oh Lord!

~I am not mad. I know some people get MAD…really MAD when their child passes away before them. So far (Praise GOD not me!) I have not experienced that emotion. I hold closed to my heart the scripture that says:

𝗝𝗼𝗯 𝟭:𝟮𝟭 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗱, 𝗡𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗜 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗯, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗜 𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗟𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗴𝗮𝘃𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗟𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆; 𝗯𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗟𝗼𝗿𝗱.

This does not make it easier, but it does remind me that my time with her was a gift the Lord gave. It was not an expectation of a long life that he then shorted her from having when he called her home.

So… “What were we doing a year ago today?” We were living life at home together. Millie had just returned home from another unexpected ER trip that showed nothing. We spent May 30 playing with our veterinarian kit. Millie laid out the stuffed animals and went to work fixing all their ailments. We played in the yard. This was actually the last time I remember her just slipping on her shoes and going out to play without a big person following her around. She and Little Man played in the yard with sticks and mud that day.

Later that afternoon daddy took them down to meet our Llama Hope. Millie loved telling the story of the Llama spitting her food all over Mama. She thought that was so funny! Mille took some selfies with her big sister making sweet, puckered lips like any other teen girl ---especially 3 going on 18! She received a special package in the mail that day. Her very own blue BIBLE showed up and a sheepdog to remind her that the Lord is faithful to guard us. We enjoyed our time at home and prepared to leave the next day for our Texas consult for the next leg of her treatment.

As my mind rolls over these events and the emotions flood back, my eyes often fill with a few stray tears. Don’t mind me—those tears represent all the love stored up in my heart for my precious girl. Love that must now seep out the cracks of my broken heart. Each day of her 3 years, 7 months, 27 days together reminds me whether good or bad days, they were blessings. I am counting my blessings one by one.

***On a side note, both Millie (our JOY!) and the Llama (HOPE) have now passed away. I guess I forget to share but Hope got sick in April and even though the vet and lots of medicine were applied, we could not get her better. Thankfully, she died while we were on vacation and so the children did not need to experience more grief head on. We told them but our dear neighbor had taken care of her remains before we returned. Life on a farm is always filled with the full circle of life and death. ***

Blessings sweet friends…

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I still believe in Millie’s Miracle

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ Hebrews 11:1 ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

︵‿︵‿୨☆୧‿︵‿︵

#MilliesMiracle

#Forever3

#WithJesus

#Neuroblastoma

#Childloss

#ChildhoodCancer

#WhileWeAreWaiting

#Anotherdaycloser

+5

Mama, I made it for you

 Little Man gave away something recently that was precious to me. He innocently shared something that he owned, something he created, something that can be recreated---and yet I cried. Silly to cry over something that was not even mine, yet the tears flooded my eyes and stabbed my heart. All a left-over emotion of walking through death. I often think (maybe even secretly fear) that something will happen to the other children and I will have nothing left that they have created. Nothing left by which to remember these days. Moments that are so precious to me, yet rapidly pass by as they grow. I do believe that God does not want me to live in fear. I know because it is clearly stated in scripture. Yet I have to remind myself to lean on his strength. I have to speak truth to override the fears on the hard days.

“𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐨𝐭; 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐞: 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝; 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐆𝐨𝐝: 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐞; 𝐲𝐞𝐚, 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐞; 𝐲𝐞𝐚, 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐮𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬.” -- 𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐚𝐡 𝟒𝟏:𝟏𝟎

I have spoken of my scrapbooks before telling you what mementos they are filled with. I think my children often thought I was making scrapbooks for them to remember their own childhood. I might have even thought that in some tiny way. I did write personal letters to them in their books. However, reality is those books are for me to remember--to look back at their lives to a time when the days were simpler, when their perspectives were filled with innocence and wonder. Those books let me relieve days gone by that can never be reclaimed. For some of them, it makes my heart happy. I can see that tiny baby that God placed in my arms and connect the months and years to the adult they are today. My heart is filled with JOY seeing where God has walked with them and where he is leading them now.

With Millie’s life, I do not have but a few items that she created. I have some scribbled coloring sheets. I have a tiny scrap of paper she colored and cut out for me, bringing it, and saying, “I made it for you mama.” I am so thankful I placed it into my bible that day and found it after she passed away. I have pictures of where she drew on the couch. I have the handprint art that was made in the hospital. What I do not have is her name, in her handwriting… I have just one drawing she made of a smiley face and some scribbles. Anyone else would have tossed it, not being aware of what they were looking at. I knew that was the only drawing my baby would make for me.

When I look at her book, I see her whole story written in just 3 short years. Her book will not be long, her story will not contain as many life events, but her life testimony is far reaching. To see the entire love of Jesus wrapped around my aching heart and to know that her story has caused me to lean in closer. To listen for his guiding words. Her death has given me a desire to know him deeper, to be more heaven focused, and relationship oriented. Her life has changed my life!

Blessings sweet friends…

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I still believe in Millie’s Miracle

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ Hebrews 11:1 ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

︵‿︵‿୨☆୧‿︵‿︵

#MilliesMiracle

#Forever3

#WithJesus

#Neuroblastoma

#Childloss

#ChildhoodCancer

#WhileWeAreWaiting

#Anotherdaycloser

My Hope is Built on Nothing Less

 We are starting summer around our house although the weather has been much more spring like...until today. I think the sun has finally shone through for the first time this week. The drizzly rain is gone but the humidity has soared! The tradeoff for beautiful sunny days is walking through the stormiest nights of life.

The next big storm is already looming in the distance. We know to expect the winds to blow 43 days from today. We will feel a temperature change and the pressure build up long before the appointed day arrives, but we will try to be ready. We will remember the fair-weather times we have gone through, but we will still prepare by battening down the hatches and folding up our sails. We will hope for smooth sailing as the waves start to mount and the rain falls in sheets. We will get our anchor ready, knowing that it is firmly held by God’s unchangeable nature.

𝗪𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘄𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹, 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗳𝗮𝘀𝘁, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗵 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗲𝗶𝗹;” --𝗛𝗲𝗯 𝟲:𝟭𝟵

You might just wonder what I am talking about? Why am I talking about storms and even anchors? In my heart, I often feel that the battles I face come upon me like a storm that builds on the horizon. I know it is coming, I can see it clearly. I cannot change its arrival, only do my best to prepare my heart to ride it out. The storm that is coming is the one-year anniversary of Millie’s heaven day. In just 43 days we will commemorate, not celebrate the year that she has been gone from our lives. We are not sad FOR HER being in the presence of our Lord, but our hearts do grieve FOR US being here without her. We miss her every single day!

There are times I think I will weather that day without being overcome, but there are other days that I know it will be so much more difficult than I imagine. Maybe not harder than any other day without her, but a glaring reminder that we are moving farther and farther away from her being in our lives. As I post her pictures now, each of you can still imagine our 3-year-old little doll…but what about when I post them 10 years—20 years—40 years from now? It is reasonable to think David and I could live 40 more years without Millie. How odd it will be to be when I am considered to be an ‘old woman’ and will still speak of my 3-year-old daughter. Each year will bring its own storm. They may not all be treacherous or painful, but they will have waves that we will need to navigate.

I really like the wave analogy because this entire year of grief has been like those waves. Some have knocked me down, drug me under, and made me fear I would not surface again. Others have been gentler, causing me to rise and fall ever so slightly when the arrive. The wave I dread is the Tsunami…the one that catches me off guard as it silently rises just out of sight until it builds up enough force to wash me away. Surviving this wave is the reason I place my anchor in Christ. He will hold me fast when I cannot hold myself. “My Hope is Built on Nothing Less…”

Tonight, the sea is calm, my heart is at peace, and my grief is held at bay. Millie is not lost forever! She is simply behind the thin veil that separates her perfect world from our stormy one. She is living a peaceful forever, while I am living an everchanging and often chaotic now. Someday the veil will separate and Jesus will call his people to himself… Are you one of his people?

Blessings sweet friends…

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I still believe in Millie’s Miracle

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ Hebrews 11:1 ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

︵‿︵‿୨☆୧‿︵‿︵

#MilliesMiracle

#Forever3

#WithJesus

#Neuroblastoma

#Childloss

#ChildhoodCancer

#WhileWeAreWaiting

#Anotherdaycloser

Grief is All-Encompassing

 𝗚𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗳 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗰𝘂𝘁𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝘀. 𝗕𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲, 𝗶𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗮𝗹𝗹-𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴.

We all know what grief is by definition. We will each experience it at some time in our lives. Our mind often says “God forbid” when we think about losing a child, spouse, or a parent. We cannot wrap our minds around the incredible pain that surrounds it, until we have stood in it. That is when others who have grieved BEFORE you become instrumental in grieving WITH you. Being part of a child loss grief group has helped me in so many ways. It has given me a place to share my heart without judgement. It has forged friendships with other parents who understand the deepest sorrows and know how to best support us. I have been so blessed to have that support.

What has surprised me more than once is how grief makes your heart so raw that your compassion for others is greatly increased. Your own loss makes you keenly aware of those around you walking through loss. It also makes your heart heavy, and your tears fall when you realize others are starting this intensely heartbreaking journey of grief.

• Some of our best friends from our young married years lost their adult son this week…

• Another cancer family that we met in the waiting room during our time with Millie just had a second child diagnosed…

My tears have fallen many times today for both families. Please lift them up in prayer… The Lord knows their names.

Part of sharing my grief transparently is to write Millie’s story. Today, I allowed myself to write the chapter that tells of Millie’s last moments before heaven. I will not share them here--they feel too personal, too precious for a Facebook post. I had to think about those moments, walk back through them in my mind, add details between each tear. I had to stop, catch my breath, and start again. I will have to go back and edit it later, clarifying the details and making it more reader friendly—if death can somehow be friendly. I will cry again…then edit…then cry… Grief is so all-encompassing when you look it in the face.

As I sign off, my eyes glanced upon a postcard on my desk that says:

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒐 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕...

May my words touch you with the feel of my arms around your shoulder, of a hug of compassion, and of knowing that my heart shares your burdens, just as you have shared mine.

Blessings sweet friends…

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I still believe in Millie’s Miracle

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ Hebrews 11:1 ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

︵‿︵‿୨☆୧‿︵‿︵

#MilliesMiracle

#Forever3

#WithJesus

#Neuroblastoma

#Childloss

#ChildhoodCancer

#WhileWeAreWaiting

#Anotherdaycloser

+2

49 days left...

 We are 49 days short of Millie being in heaven for one full year. This week last year still held promise of things to come. Spring had arrived and new life was everywhere. Our farm had a batch of new baby kittens, a new llama named Hope, and lots of opportunity for Millie to be outside enjoying life. As I glance back through photos tonight I was amazed to realize that even though it is May 21, Millie’s tummy was not swollen. She looked good and felt good for the most part. We were still holding cancer at bay, at least for another few days. How quickly life changes….

In some ways the last year have flown by, yet in others it has been an excruciatingly long time since we have held Millie in our arms. Thanks to our precious videos we can still hear her sweet baby voice, but I wonder what it would sound like now that she would be so big? Many parts of our life are used to not having a preschooler in them any longer, but in the other parts the hole she left is so big that it looms still. A jaggedly gaping hole that says, “a little girl belongs right HERE”. There are huge things that frequently point it out, like the paperwork I filled out today that said list all your children and their ages. There are also the little, insignificant things like a waitress saying, “How many?” and us having to mentally uncount Millie to give the number. Day by day we are still adjusting to her life being complete.

~Day by day we still have to choose JOY.

Blessings sweet friends…

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I still believe in Millie’s Miracle

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ Hebrews 11:1 ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

︵‿︵‿୨☆୧‿︵‿︵

#MilliesMiracle

#Forever3

#WithJesus

#Neuroblastoma

#Childloss

#ChildhoodCancer

#WhileWeAreWaiting

#Anotherdaycloser