The other day a family friend of mine commented on a recent picture I had taken of my self following a haircut - my first real outing by myself and for myself since the events of February 1st. She commented that I looked so sad. And I started thinking about that. I know I feel sad, but can others tell how sad I really am? So I stood in front of the mirror and looked into my eyes. And it hit me - your eyes really are the windows to your soul (or however that proverb goes). People can see the sadness through my eyes.
About two years ago I actually went to an eye doctor to get an old eye injury checked out. Here's the back story. Somehow back on my 17th birthday when I was participating in a fundraiser car wash a piece of steel wool got stuck into my eye. The eye is supposed to heal really fast I was told, so I figured it was healed after several days of wearing an awesome eye patch during high school - another way to raise your social stock, right? Ha. But of course, with my track record, the cornea healed but formed a raised scar that evey now and then, when it gets too dry, forms an extra layer of cells over the scar. These cells feel like pieces of gravel in my eye and are very uncomfortable. They don't effect my vision so the past doctors never seemed that worried about it and I eventually got tired of going to the eye doctor every time they formed so I started plucking them out myself with a q-tip. Disclaimer - never do this yourself - apparently it's a pretty bad habit to get yourself into. Then again, I'm stubborn and rarely actually listen. Well, finally after dealing with it for over 10 years, I decided to try going back to the doctor to see if they could actually fix the root issue - I figured medicine must have advanced by now. Again I was wrong. But this appointment did provide me with some unforgettable images.
For the first time ever when going to an eye doctor, they showed me these amazing up close images of my iris as they took pictures of everything for the doctor to examine. Before I had always been jealous of those people who had these gorgeous blue or green eyes because I always thought they were more beautiful than my boring brown eyes. Everybody has brown eyes - they aren't unique I thought. But as I stared at up the up close pictures of my iris, my opinion changed. I was told that each pattern is different and brown eyes actually have more variations than the lighter color eyes. The up close images sort of reminded me of tiger eyes. There were little firebursts hidden amongst the dark areas in these random formations. It was awe-inspiring to see something like that up close - the human body really is the most amazing thing in the universe. That moment made me realize that my eyes may not look as beautiful as others on the outside, but they were beautiful on the inside.
The more that I lay around and think about these things, the more I come to the conclusion that those brown eyes with all of their inward beauty really do reflect my soul. My soul is sad because a major piece of it is now missing and thus, my eyes are sad. I know others see it. I see it. They aren't bright like they were before - they've been dulled by the sadness. Now I know that when I've "people watched" in the past whether it be through my job or through my travels or visits to crowded places, and I've commented to myself that some of those people have "sad eyes," I'm now one of those people.
Well, yesterday, my eyes were angry. Maybe some flash returned to them as I became angry multiple times over the course of the evening before and most of the day yesterday. I snapped at some guy who called our house phone looking for someone who obviously had our number before. I got so angry because we had just changed phone numbers to avoid the calls we had been getting for others, and it was supposed to be changed to an unlisted number, and here we were getting new calls for others. The anger just flowed. And I felt a little bit guilty about it later because that guy, no matter how annoying the company he works for is, did not deserve my anger.
To be honest, my anger actually started welling up on Wednesday after I set up my March of Dimes page - In Memory of Ellison, and then just spilled over into yesterday. When I had to write my little message to others about my story, my anger, which had been pushed out a while ago and replaced by sadness, came back to the forefront. I became angry about my pregnancy condition - vasa previa. I became angry thinking about the doctors telling me it was so "rare" that they "needed to consult the literature" of the past on it to properly manage it. I remember thinking "why is there so little research?" There are plenty of rare conditions that are talked about all the time, why isn't vasa previa one of them - does no one care enough about it to want to do something for those that have it? There has to be some test that can show where the exposed membranes of the cord are so that doctors can see if the baby's in danger of compressing it whether it be by growth or their position. I then got angry wondering if my own doctors were submitting information on my case to whatever medical society needed to know. They just needed to know that I had vasa previa, and it was diagnosed and supposedly properly managed according to the literature, and yet, my Ellison still died. Someone else who gets diagnosed with this needs to know all of the possible outcomes with the risks and exposed membranes, etc. and modern medicine needs to know more and do more to prevent these risks. Medicine needs to be able to prevent future tragedies.
I even got a little angry with the March of Dimes itself some because it seemed like most everything on their page was geared towards to infants with disabilities or premature births and the complications they bring. There wasn't anything in their generic team message that mentioned those experiencing the loss of their child and working towards preventing that. Now, don't misunderstand me, I am glad for all that the March of Dimes organization does, and I know others are facing different difficulties with their children and it's no less sad or difficult, etc. I just want to help out their efforts - all of their efforts. But I specifically wrote in my story that I wanted to raise money so that perhaps someone would research vasa previa more and talk more about it and raise awareness for it. With the infant mortality rate being so high because of the condition, especially if untreated, more should be done so that no one has to go through what we have had to. No one else should have to lose their baby. Even if treated, accidents still happen and lives are lost - our Ellison lost her life. And if nothing else, I can't bring Ellie back, but maybe I can help save someone else's child's life. I was just so angry - angry that we lost Ellie, angry that the medical field wasn't doing enough, angry thinking that someone else may experience this tragedy...unbelievable waves of anger.
My husband and I were at Panera eating dinner when all of these waves of anger came over me as I was talking to him about having signed up for the March of Dimes walk. And I raised my voice at him, and snapped at him, when he tried telling me that our condition was just so rare and tragic that there just isn't enough cases on it yet for medicine to work on. I kept going on and on, not accepting his words, and finally I told him we just had to stop talking about it all because I was just too angry. I'm sure he could tell it in my eyes...Someone who cannot see probably could have felt it coming from my eyes - my soul. I realize I'm still going to have flashes of anger over different things, and then the anger will turn to sadness, etc., and the cycle will continue for a long time. But I do know that I need to control my anger better. While my eyes may not be able to hide my anger or my sadness, my words and actions can.
I should not have snapped at my husband or the telemarketer guy who called my house. It's not their fault that this all has happened - it's no one's fault. My anger isn't direceted towards any one person or entity, it's just an overall anger at the situation for my loss. So I suppose it's OK that my eyes show my anger, or my sadness - it's a window into my soul and how it's feeling. And it's OK for others to see that in my eyes - I want them to know how much I feel for Ellison and everything else. Maybe one day people will be able to see some brightness or specks of happiness return to my dull brown eyes, perhaps after I find the bluebird I'm longing for. In the meantime though, I'll be sure to look others' in the eye and search through them to their souls and try to understand what they're going through, because I really believe that the eyes can be the window to one's soul. Knowing this is half of the battle. The other half is the battle they are fighting within themselves.
Friday, February 28, 2014
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Bluebird
My Mom prints out each of my blog entries for my grandmother to read and have. This is the same wise grandmother that told me the story that "presence speaks for itself." Well, apparently when my Mom read one of my latest blog entries to my Grandmother, The Abyss, she started singing lyrics from a song. There is a song that was written back in the 1930s called "Bluebird of Happiness." Being the amazing woman that my grandmother is she recalled that this song references pretty much what I was speaking of in my blog entry. How she does this I do not know, but I'm fairly sure she was born with that sixth sense that people often speak of. She has been able to predict, or sense, when certain events have occurred throughout my life. And she always finds a way to make me reflect even further on things through her amazing presence in my life, and for that I am blessed.
In case you have never heard of the song, which I'm pretty sure many of you have not, I'll copy it below for us all to reflect on:
In case you have never heard of the song, which I'm pretty sure many of you have not, I'll copy it below for us all to reflect on:
Bluebird of Happiness by Edward Heyman
The beggar man and the mighty king are only diff'rent in name,
For they are treated just the same by fate.
Today a smile and tomorrow a tear,
We're never sure what's in store,
So learn you lesson before it is too late, so
Be like I, hold your head up high,
Till you find a bluebird of happiness.
You will find greater peace of mind
Knowing there's a bluebird of happiness.
And when he sings to you,
Though you're deep in blue,
You will see a ray light creep through,
And so remember this, life is no abyss,
Somewhere there's a bluebird of happiness.
The poet with his pen, the peasant with his plow,
It makes no difference who you are.
It's all the same somehow.
The king upone his throne, the jester at his feet,
The artist, the actress, the man on the street,
It's a life of smiles, and a life of tears,
It's a life of hopes, and a life of fears.
A blinding torrent of rain, and a brilliant burst of sun,
A biting, tearing pain, and bubbling, sparkling fun.
And no matter what you have,
Don't envy those you meet,
It's all the same, it's in the game,
The bitter and the sweet.
And if things don't look so cheerful,
Just show a little fight,
For every bit of darkness,
There's a little bit of light.
For every bit of hatred,
There's a little bit of love.
For every cloudy morning, there's a midnight moon above.
So don't you forget,
You must search til' you find the bluebird.
You will find peace and contentment forever
If you will -
Be like I, hold you head up high,
'Til you see a ray of light and cheer.
And so remember this, life is no abyss,
Somewhere there's a bluebird of happiness.
And there you have it. An oldie, but a goodie - and you all know how much I love oldies. If things don't look so cheerful, show a little fight...for every cloudy morning, there's a midnight moon above. No more needs to be said. The words and lyrics are a perfect response to my blog, even if I haven't quite found that bluebird. I'm still swimming, but at least now I'm looking up to try to find the bluebird as I go...
When I looked up this song of course a Wikipedia entry popped up. The article first talked about Native American folklore (which I've always found fascinating - I even wrote a paper on it in college). Apparently the Navajo identify the Mountain Bluebird as a spirit associated with the rising sun. They have a Bluebird Song they sing to remind tribal members to always rise and greet the sun: "Bluebird said to me, 'Get up, my grandchild. It is dawn,' it said to me." It blows my mind how across cultures and generations, these little simple kernels of wisdom have withstood the test of time and have been passed down for us to be able to still reflect on today.
So as I woke up this morning, and thought about rising to greet the day, I happened to look back into my quote book. And sure enough, it was propped open to a page that had a recent quote I found - "Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought" - Percy Bysshe Shelley. I have no doubt that "Bluebird of Happiness" was written by someone who was fighting a similar darkness and searching for a little bit of light, an extra knot in the rope, etc. to help pull him through. Therefore, I must search on for the elusive bluebird. Thanks to my grandmother for again reminding me that this bluebird exists - she found the song for me, now I just have to be able to sing it...
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Your Rope
When I was growing up, I used to collect quotes. All throughout high school and college, and even after, I'd enjoy finding new quotes - whatever spoke to me at the time - and writing them down for later reflections. In fact, every day during my study hall in the 11th grade, I would go into my English teacher's classroom and write a new quote on the chalkboard. I never even thought anyone paid attention to them until I missed a day or two for whatever reason and my English teacher told me that several people asked why there wasn't a new quote up there. That put a smile on my face because I thought maybe someone else took something away from one of the quotes I shared, and it just made me happy. I know, you are all thinking "nerd alert!" But what can I say, I like other peoples' profound words, and they even come in handy sometimes.
Well, the other day I found my old quotes journal. I started reading through it last night, or rather early this morning, when I was trying to fall asleep. I came across one quote that I thought I would share. I'm not sure if it was actually written by Thomas Jefferson or not, historians appear divided. Some say it was Abraham Lincoln, others say it was FDR, and some still say it was the great TJ (so I'll just hope it was TJ since he is the founder of my great University and just a plain ol' genius). They were all great men and offered many contributions to society so it doesn't really matter. But here goes: "When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on."
That's about where I am at right now. I've tied a knot, probably more like several knots now, just to hang on. Today, I actually got out of the house to go to lunch with my sister-in-law AND decided to brave going to get a haircut. Getting a haircut was probably the first actual thing I've done by myself without the company of anyone else. I've run errands with Doug and my Mom to various places, but I had yet to actually drive myself somewhere and do something just for myself and by myself. And I survived it. I didn't have any breakdowns or freakouts along the way. So that in and of itself is an accomplishment - I'll take it. The knot is holding strong for now. As my cousin told me, "one lap at a time" in response to my writings on swimming through the abyss.
Perhaps I will share different quotes each day as they speak to me. Maybe one of them will bring a smile to your face as you think about it or reflect on it. Other people are much more profound than I am and obviously write better since we still quote them to this day, so why not continue to share their words of wisdom? After all, where would we be without the Thoreaus, Kellers, Jeffersons, and Churchills of the world....
Well, the other day I found my old quotes journal. I started reading through it last night, or rather early this morning, when I was trying to fall asleep. I came across one quote that I thought I would share. I'm not sure if it was actually written by Thomas Jefferson or not, historians appear divided. Some say it was Abraham Lincoln, others say it was FDR, and some still say it was the great TJ (so I'll just hope it was TJ since he is the founder of my great University and just a plain ol' genius). They were all great men and offered many contributions to society so it doesn't really matter. But here goes: "When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on."
That's about where I am at right now. I've tied a knot, probably more like several knots now, just to hang on. Today, I actually got out of the house to go to lunch with my sister-in-law AND decided to brave going to get a haircut. Getting a haircut was probably the first actual thing I've done by myself without the company of anyone else. I've run errands with Doug and my Mom to various places, but I had yet to actually drive myself somewhere and do something just for myself and by myself. And I survived it. I didn't have any breakdowns or freakouts along the way. So that in and of itself is an accomplishment - I'll take it. The knot is holding strong for now. As my cousin told me, "one lap at a time" in response to my writings on swimming through the abyss.
Perhaps I will share different quotes each day as they speak to me. Maybe one of them will bring a smile to your face as you think about it or reflect on it. Other people are much more profound than I am and obviously write better since we still quote them to this day, so why not continue to share their words of wisdom? After all, where would we be without the Thoreaus, Kellers, Jeffersons, and Churchills of the world....
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
The Abyss
My husband went back to work for the first time since February 1st. He said he felt anxious all night but was able to get through it without any major issues. I told him I was proud of him for being able to do it - I just don't know if I'd be able to handle it. It was the first night he's left me since we lost Ellison, and I almost didn't even know what to do with myself as I laid around. Luckily, my sister-in-law was nice enough to invite me over for dinner with her and my niece. My brother is out of town for work for a few nights, so it was just us girls. During her bathtime, I told Natalie that when it got warmer I wanted to go to the zoo to see the Cheetah cubs. I told her I've never been to the zoo here, and she couldn't believe it. She started talking about all the things we'd see there, because she's been. Another thing to add to my bucket list of things to do for Ellison. It was a nice visit, and hanging out with them makes me happy. So all in all, it was a nice way to ease into this new period I call the abyss.
It's an abyss because it's the unknown. I'll be forced to have to get myself to start doing things on my own. For four straight days and nights, my husband will be having to deal with reintegrating himself back into his old routine, and I'll be dealing with trying to get myself to accept having to be more independent. Now, I've always been an independent person - I was an independent kid, marching to the beat of my own drum if you will. But something like this makes you dependent - dependent on others to help you through it. Right now, I'm in the middle area - the abyss. To be honest, I'm not sure how it will go. I'll just discover how it will go as it happens - this is one of those things I can't control or predict. I'll just have to slowly wade around until I find my footing...
My sister-in-law asked me last night if I was jealous that Doug was getting to go back to work while I still could not. I told her no. I've thought about going back to work and how it might be a good distraction, but then I think about how all over the place I still am. My brain is still all muddled, and I can barely concentrate on any one thing - like I said in my other blog my mind is running about ten million miles a minute. I'd be afraid to snap at someone, or I'd probably get mad that some insignificant thing in the grand scheme of things was being made into such a big deal at work. As I've said before, my job can be skewed towards the negative most of the time, and I'm already hovering in that land of negativity and fighting it most of the time - I don't think I could handle all of that right now. Maybe in a couple of more weeks after some of the dust settles as they say. I do need to go back to re-establish a routine, like Doug, and to work on that whole re-integration into society that I've spoken about before. I do realize this fact. I'm good at what I do, and I need to find that zone again if I'm truly going to move forward. But thinking about it right now, right at this moment, it just reminds me of an abyss. A great big dark unknown.
Tonight I'm going to dinner with one of my best friends. I haven't seen him since before we lost Ellison. We are going to get sushi. I haven't had sushi for at least 10 months - I do sort of miss it. One of those sacrifices you have to make when you're pregnant. But seeing as how I'm not anymore, I guess it's time to get my feet wet again. We'll see if I still enjoy it like I did before. Another unknown. I may not even enjoy the same things I once did. But I will be glad to see him and spend a dinner out probably catching up on random gossip or other things. It will be a good distraction from my husband being gone for the night at work for his second night back. And I won't have to think about some of the normal thoughts that I do when I'm alone and left to reflect in the silence around me.
Eventually though, I know I'll have to face the silence and the loneliness and figure out a way to wade through that abyss. I'm going to be a work in progress, and I guess that is OK for the time being...A few days ago when I asked Doug how he thought he was going to do when he went back to work, he said a certain "song" popped into his head. It was out there, and something that I could understand would stick into his head because he tends to be a lot more optimistic than I am. It was a scene from "Finding Nemo." He said when life gets hard and he does not know what is going to happen or what he's going to do - he hears the song that Dory sings during the movie - "Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming.." This is spot on. When life gets you down, you've just got to keep swimming. So I'm just going to keep swimming through the abyss. And maybe, eventually, I'll reach the other shore...
It's an abyss because it's the unknown. I'll be forced to have to get myself to start doing things on my own. For four straight days and nights, my husband will be having to deal with reintegrating himself back into his old routine, and I'll be dealing with trying to get myself to accept having to be more independent. Now, I've always been an independent person - I was an independent kid, marching to the beat of my own drum if you will. But something like this makes you dependent - dependent on others to help you through it. Right now, I'm in the middle area - the abyss. To be honest, I'm not sure how it will go. I'll just discover how it will go as it happens - this is one of those things I can't control or predict. I'll just have to slowly wade around until I find my footing...
My sister-in-law asked me last night if I was jealous that Doug was getting to go back to work while I still could not. I told her no. I've thought about going back to work and how it might be a good distraction, but then I think about how all over the place I still am. My brain is still all muddled, and I can barely concentrate on any one thing - like I said in my other blog my mind is running about ten million miles a minute. I'd be afraid to snap at someone, or I'd probably get mad that some insignificant thing in the grand scheme of things was being made into such a big deal at work. As I've said before, my job can be skewed towards the negative most of the time, and I'm already hovering in that land of negativity and fighting it most of the time - I don't think I could handle all of that right now. Maybe in a couple of more weeks after some of the dust settles as they say. I do need to go back to re-establish a routine, like Doug, and to work on that whole re-integration into society that I've spoken about before. I do realize this fact. I'm good at what I do, and I need to find that zone again if I'm truly going to move forward. But thinking about it right now, right at this moment, it just reminds me of an abyss. A great big dark unknown.
Tonight I'm going to dinner with one of my best friends. I haven't seen him since before we lost Ellison. We are going to get sushi. I haven't had sushi for at least 10 months - I do sort of miss it. One of those sacrifices you have to make when you're pregnant. But seeing as how I'm not anymore, I guess it's time to get my feet wet again. We'll see if I still enjoy it like I did before. Another unknown. I may not even enjoy the same things I once did. But I will be glad to see him and spend a dinner out probably catching up on random gossip or other things. It will be a good distraction from my husband being gone for the night at work for his second night back. And I won't have to think about some of the normal thoughts that I do when I'm alone and left to reflect in the silence around me.
Eventually though, I know I'll have to face the silence and the loneliness and figure out a way to wade through that abyss. I'm going to be a work in progress, and I guess that is OK for the time being...A few days ago when I asked Doug how he thought he was going to do when he went back to work, he said a certain "song" popped into his head. It was out there, and something that I could understand would stick into his head because he tends to be a lot more optimistic than I am. It was a scene from "Finding Nemo." He said when life gets hard and he does not know what is going to happen or what he's going to do - he hears the song that Dory sings during the movie - "Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming.." This is spot on. When life gets you down, you've just got to keep swimming. So I'm just going to keep swimming through the abyss. And maybe, eventually, I'll reach the other shore...
Monday, February 24, 2014
A Mile a Minute
This morning I was staring at the clock watching it click over from 0300 to 0301, wide awake. My mind has always operated a mile a minute. I'm constantly thinking about something. During my school years, I'd be thinking about the topic being discussed and twelve other questions or thoughts about the subject matter would scroll through my mind. This happens at work too. It doesn't happen in an ADD sort of way that distracts me from what I'm doing - it just happens in a "wow, if I'm thinking about this, what about that, and that, and that" as I continue doing the task I was doing. It's not like the dog in "UP" who is talking about something and then all of a sudden says "Squirrel" and runs off in a completely different direction. I stay on point, but just think with my mind exploding all over the place.
As sad as it is to say out loud, I can actually answer my own questions as I ask them in my own head. I can be carrying on a conversation with you, and you may think I'm totally in to our conversation and I probably really am in actuality, but secretly I'm also talking to myself in my own head - sometimes cracking jokes that I would be afraid to say out loud because others might not actually find them funny, or debating random thoughts to myself about some topic that has splintered off from the conversation that you and I are having. I've always been this way. I've never been able to just shut my mind completely off. I have to work hard at night to force myself to lay down, quiet my thoughts down, and go to sleep. But when I do go to sleep, I stay asleep - I'm out like a light unless some sound wakes me back up, and then I struggle to find sleep all over again. I'm a light sleeper unfortunately on top of this crazy mind of mine. But usually, I can fall asleep easily every night if I just repeat one thought over and over again until I drift off and it's worked pretty well for me the last 31 years...
Well, it worked pretty well up until February 1st. Now my mind races a mile a minute with all of these thoughts - many that I've shared on here - and it's been pretty hard to find that quiet place I've had in the past to make it slow down. The river walk didn't work. Those walks used to help me keep my internal race in check. Working out used to do the trick too - it would give me an hour or so break - but I can't do that right now until I'm cleared to, so I can't lean on that avenue. And last night, I had to write that second entry because my thoughts were racing so wildly and vividly about the topic. In the past, I've never had to write much of my thoughts out. I've never been one to keep a journal going. I would never have thought that my thoughts and emotions were important enough to even write a blog - blogging had never popped into my mind. But that was all before I lost Ellison. Since I've lost her, I can't keep my own mind in check. I have to write out the visions and thoughts I see and feel and debate in my own mind because they are just too numerous for me to keep in check internally.
For being someone with so much self control most of my life, I feel so out of control. And not out of control behaviorally as most people experience growing up - I'm out of control mentality. Not in a medical diagnosis sort of way (so don't start going there, Dr. Phil) - but in a grief sort of way. Extreme emotional stress and grief makes one feel so out of control. I know that this is probably a normal feeling for someone grieving in general, or someone going through something as stressful and mind-blowing as the unexplainable loss of a child. I know I'm probably not alone in dealing with these feelings - some of you may have experienced this type of out of control feeling in some form or fashion at one point in your life. What has been my normal state of operation which has always been a mind racing a mile a minute is now a mind racing a million times a minute. And I need this outlet. I'm not ready to slow down with the blogging just yet - not until I can get my mind back under control. Too many questions, not enough answers. Too many "but what about this" or "what if this does, or doesn't happen?" Just too many ifs, ands, or buts...
Sometimes I wish I could just hook my brain up to one of those monitors that records all of my thoughts for me so I don't have to try to sort through them myself. I'm sure some of my thought processes would be entertaining and may actually be funny, but lately, I'm sure they'd be overwhelmingly sad or confusing to others. I guess you have to take the good with the bad. As my niece would say "You get what you get, and you don't throw a fit." So with that in mind, you get what you get out of me right now, so just go with it....
Oh, and just so everyone knows, I've started my "living for" process for Ellison. Even though I went to UVA, I've never been to see a full baseball game and I've never actually been to see the improved Davenport Field. Sad I know considering how many times I've been to UVA even since I've graduated. I've watched the games on TV when they are on, and I've followed the team and its sucesses through the media, but I haven't actually been able to cheer them on in person at UVA (I have seen them play VCU twice at the Diamond...but that's just nowhere near the same...). So, I told Doug we were going to go watch them play at home in person in March - and we'll get there early to take advantage of the campus and the beauty that surrounds UVA in the early stages of the spring transition, and then we'll eat baseball treats while watching my Wahoos play, and then we'll go to Arch's afterwards for some gooey brownie. All of it will be for Ellison....so she can experience this too. Even if it's the little things, they count....My first full UVA baseball game will be her first game...and hopefully, once we break the ice, it won't be our last game - we'll be sure to make more time for things like this...We've got more to live for now, right Ellie?
As sad as it is to say out loud, I can actually answer my own questions as I ask them in my own head. I can be carrying on a conversation with you, and you may think I'm totally in to our conversation and I probably really am in actuality, but secretly I'm also talking to myself in my own head - sometimes cracking jokes that I would be afraid to say out loud because others might not actually find them funny, or debating random thoughts to myself about some topic that has splintered off from the conversation that you and I are having. I've always been this way. I've never been able to just shut my mind completely off. I have to work hard at night to force myself to lay down, quiet my thoughts down, and go to sleep. But when I do go to sleep, I stay asleep - I'm out like a light unless some sound wakes me back up, and then I struggle to find sleep all over again. I'm a light sleeper unfortunately on top of this crazy mind of mine. But usually, I can fall asleep easily every night if I just repeat one thought over and over again until I drift off and it's worked pretty well for me the last 31 years...
Well, it worked pretty well up until February 1st. Now my mind races a mile a minute with all of these thoughts - many that I've shared on here - and it's been pretty hard to find that quiet place I've had in the past to make it slow down. The river walk didn't work. Those walks used to help me keep my internal race in check. Working out used to do the trick too - it would give me an hour or so break - but I can't do that right now until I'm cleared to, so I can't lean on that avenue. And last night, I had to write that second entry because my thoughts were racing so wildly and vividly about the topic. In the past, I've never had to write much of my thoughts out. I've never been one to keep a journal going. I would never have thought that my thoughts and emotions were important enough to even write a blog - blogging had never popped into my mind. But that was all before I lost Ellison. Since I've lost her, I can't keep my own mind in check. I have to write out the visions and thoughts I see and feel and debate in my own mind because they are just too numerous for me to keep in check internally.
For being someone with so much self control most of my life, I feel so out of control. And not out of control behaviorally as most people experience growing up - I'm out of control mentality. Not in a medical diagnosis sort of way (so don't start going there, Dr. Phil) - but in a grief sort of way. Extreme emotional stress and grief makes one feel so out of control. I know that this is probably a normal feeling for someone grieving in general, or someone going through something as stressful and mind-blowing as the unexplainable loss of a child. I know I'm probably not alone in dealing with these feelings - some of you may have experienced this type of out of control feeling in some form or fashion at one point in your life. What has been my normal state of operation which has always been a mind racing a mile a minute is now a mind racing a million times a minute. And I need this outlet. I'm not ready to slow down with the blogging just yet - not until I can get my mind back under control. Too many questions, not enough answers. Too many "but what about this" or "what if this does, or doesn't happen?" Just too many ifs, ands, or buts...
Sometimes I wish I could just hook my brain up to one of those monitors that records all of my thoughts for me so I don't have to try to sort through them myself. I'm sure some of my thought processes would be entertaining and may actually be funny, but lately, I'm sure they'd be overwhelmingly sad or confusing to others. I guess you have to take the good with the bad. As my niece would say "You get what you get, and you don't throw a fit." So with that in mind, you get what you get out of me right now, so just go with it....
Oh, and just so everyone knows, I've started my "living for" process for Ellison. Even though I went to UVA, I've never been to see a full baseball game and I've never actually been to see the improved Davenport Field. Sad I know considering how many times I've been to UVA even since I've graduated. I've watched the games on TV when they are on, and I've followed the team and its sucesses through the media, but I haven't actually been able to cheer them on in person at UVA (I have seen them play VCU twice at the Diamond...but that's just nowhere near the same...). So, I told Doug we were going to go watch them play at home in person in March - and we'll get there early to take advantage of the campus and the beauty that surrounds UVA in the early stages of the spring transition, and then we'll eat baseball treats while watching my Wahoos play, and then we'll go to Arch's afterwards for some gooey brownie. All of it will be for Ellison....so she can experience this too. Even if it's the little things, they count....My first full UVA baseball game will be her first game...and hopefully, once we break the ice, it won't be our last game - we'll be sure to make more time for things like this...We've got more to live for now, right Ellie?
Sunday, February 23, 2014
I Live For...
Just as I go and say that I don't even know if I'm going to continue posting my blog everyday, I have another first and feel the need to write another entry right at this moment. That would make two in one day - it's an usual day all around. Today was a bad day in general. Perhaps it was additional fallout from yesterday, or maybe it was just a bad day. It won't be the first and it won't be the last - of this, I am sure.
I had a hard time coming up with words for my earlier entry. The subject matter stole my usual wordiness from me. What normally flows so easily was like fighting through a strange writer's block, and I'm not even a writer. In fact, I had a hard time getting out of bed to do anything today. Finally after I finished finding some words to say, Doug insisted that we go for a walk with our dogs. He took me to Pony Pasture so we could walk along the river - it's unusually high right now and we've always enjoyed taking walks on the numerous paths along the river. Our dogs love it, and watching them with big ol' smiles on their faces usually puts a smile on my face. But it didn't today - it made me even more sad. Probably because I couldn't get out of my mind the fact that Ellison would have loved these types of walks. I was very much looking forward to her joining her big fur brother and fur sister on a nice day as we marveled at the beauty that was all around and listened to the sound of the water as we walked along.
Halfway through our walk I watched a little girl who was maybe five run along the banks of the river with her family. At one point she stood on a rock, thrust her arms into the air, and declared "I'm king of the world!" And despite the fact that she was mimicking a cheesy line from a cheesy movie (i.e. Titanic), it brought a tear to my eye simply because I pictured Ellison doing the same thing one day during a walk just like the one we were currently on. Everything just snowballed from there. The walk was no longer a distraction from my sadness, but a magnetic for it.
Back at home, I realized I had not eaten anything all day and 7 pm was fast approaching. I told Doug we needed to use one of our gift cards that our friends had graciously provided because I wouldn't eat unless we went out and I was forced to. And don't go thinking it's because I'm starving myself or anything like that. Most of the time I simply don't think about eating or have no appetite to remind me to eat. So we went out and Doug did his best to be my constant cheerleader. I told him I was just feeling darkness all around me, and there was no light to reach towards. The words just started spewing from my mouth as we waited for our dinner. I started rambling about how the only thing I could think about was how we were 0 for 2. Every time I've been pregnant, the outcome has always been negative - we have nothing to show for it. We have no bundle of joy, and just two times the heartache. How could I possibly expect to "see the light at the end of the tunnel" or to find the hope and optimism for the future? And of course he did his best to tell me that we would find our light and we would get our happy ending as long as we believed we would. Thankfully our dinner came, and my thoughts were temporarily distracted by food.
Then, all of the sudden, seemingly out of the blue, a different train of thought hit me. I told Doug that I wanted us to start travelling more and going to places we had always wanted to go to but hadn't because life had gotten in the way. You know how you always have visions of how you want your life to be and dream about all of the things you are going to do when you're like 12 and growing up? Well, I'd say 9.7 times out of 10, those things never actually happen like you've dreamed them. When I was a younger teenager, I had visions that I'd be a famous skit actor like Molly Shannon. I portrayed a pretty good "Mary Catherine Gallagher" in a talent show, and I loved coming up with skits with my friends in my old youth group. Heck, some people even think I look like Molly Shannon. But as you can tell, I'm no famous actor and I don't really have any actual acting skills. I also had dreams about travelling the world and going diving with great white sharks in South Africa. But then, life gets in the way and you grow up and most of the dreams you had when you were younger are just that - dreams. You start worrying about grown up things like taking time off from school, and then work, and then you have to worry about finances and logistics, and those childhood dreams just fall to the wayside as pipe dreams. Well, I told Doug I wanted us to revisit some of those pipe dreams..
I started telling him about all the places I had dreamed about going at various times in my life. I wanted to go to Boston and do a pub crawl and see the historic sites, and to Philadelphia to eat an authentic cheesesteak. And I wanted to go to the Baltimore aquarium, because I've never actually been. And I wanted to take him to NY city because even though I've been several times, there's still plenty of things I want him to see since he's never been, and there's always something new to do there. And I want to go to Los Angeles and Hollywood and dip my feet in the Pacific Ocean. And I want to go back to the Grand Canyon and actually get to hike a trail and white water raft through the Colorado River. And I want to go to Yosemite National Park. And I want to go to Hawaii and walk through volcanoes and hike through its beautiful landscape. And I want to go to Harry Potter World in Disney and drink a butter beer (don't judge). And I want to backpack through England, Ireland, and Scotland, and explore the castles and the countryside and drink a pint in an actual pub. And I want to do a safari in Africa and see a great white shark (preferably from the safety of a boat). And I want to go on a cruise to Alaska and see a whale up close and go on a sledding adventure. And I want to do a National Geographic exploration trip to Iceland and Greenland - just because. And I'd love to go to Australia and New Zealand - they're both so beautiful in pictures. And I'd love to go to Fiji or Bora Bora and stare at the pristine water and beaches. And I want to swim with dolphins somewhere in the tropics. And I want to see Peyton Manning in action at a live football game (and maybe even get to meet him and get something signed) - heck, I'd love to see Peyton play the Pittsburgh Steelers live just so I could see him and Heath Miller at the same time. I could go on and on, but I'll stop there...
And then it hit me after rattling all of this off - I wanted to start going to some of these places I've never been to and dedicate it to Ellison. A friend of mine recently told me about an organization she participates in called "I Run 4." It's an organization that was started so that people could gain inspiration from children who are disabled, and then use that inspiration to start running for those children who simply cannot because of the hand they've been dealt. She told me there was a spin off called "I Run For...Remembrance" that is dedicated to those who run in remembrance of a lost loved one. I haven't been able to find much about this spin-off during my internet searches thus far, but it might be something I look into more when I'm actually able to start running again. But nonetheless this did spark something more immediate in me - another idea. Something I'd like to call "I live for..."
Now, in addition to all the bad luck I seemed to have been handed, I was also given a lack of creativity. I can't draw for anything, and I'm not artistic whatsoever. I have no special skills (musically, artistically, etc.) or hidden hobbies. I do get some creative thoughts in my head every once in awhile, but they never go far beyond that. Well tonight, the vision that popped into my head was that of a t-shirt. A t-shirt that would incorporate some design based off of the "I carry your heart" poem by E.E. Cummings (like a heart inside of a heart) on the front and then on the back it would say something like "I live for my guardian angel" and it would have Ellison's name on it. Don't ask me about the artistic nuances because those just don't exist in me. But, anyways, I'd wear this shirt whenever I went to a new place and I'd take a picture and I'd make a photo book and I'd post the photos on Facebook. That way, I would know I was living for Ellison - even though she's not here, I'd be living for her. And everyone else would know that whatever I was experiencing for the first time, so was she.
So if any of my artistic folk out there actually read this and can visualize what I'm talking about, let me know. But since I doubt it will go beyond my imagination, I'll just have to know that I live for her. And even though I know I probably will never get to Bora Bora or some of those exotic places I've dreamed of, I will make more of an effort to travel to some of the places I can get to that are new. And I'll take a picture of each new place for Ellison. Maybe that will take some of the darkness away, and won't make me as sad as I was today when I was at the river. Maybe it would be at least a flash of light in this seemingly dark world I find myself in...
I had a hard time coming up with words for my earlier entry. The subject matter stole my usual wordiness from me. What normally flows so easily was like fighting through a strange writer's block, and I'm not even a writer. In fact, I had a hard time getting out of bed to do anything today. Finally after I finished finding some words to say, Doug insisted that we go for a walk with our dogs. He took me to Pony Pasture so we could walk along the river - it's unusually high right now and we've always enjoyed taking walks on the numerous paths along the river. Our dogs love it, and watching them with big ol' smiles on their faces usually puts a smile on my face. But it didn't today - it made me even more sad. Probably because I couldn't get out of my mind the fact that Ellison would have loved these types of walks. I was very much looking forward to her joining her big fur brother and fur sister on a nice day as we marveled at the beauty that was all around and listened to the sound of the water as we walked along.
Halfway through our walk I watched a little girl who was maybe five run along the banks of the river with her family. At one point she stood on a rock, thrust her arms into the air, and declared "I'm king of the world!" And despite the fact that she was mimicking a cheesy line from a cheesy movie (i.e. Titanic), it brought a tear to my eye simply because I pictured Ellison doing the same thing one day during a walk just like the one we were currently on. Everything just snowballed from there. The walk was no longer a distraction from my sadness, but a magnetic for it.
Back at home, I realized I had not eaten anything all day and 7 pm was fast approaching. I told Doug we needed to use one of our gift cards that our friends had graciously provided because I wouldn't eat unless we went out and I was forced to. And don't go thinking it's because I'm starving myself or anything like that. Most of the time I simply don't think about eating or have no appetite to remind me to eat. So we went out and Doug did his best to be my constant cheerleader. I told him I was just feeling darkness all around me, and there was no light to reach towards. The words just started spewing from my mouth as we waited for our dinner. I started rambling about how the only thing I could think about was how we were 0 for 2. Every time I've been pregnant, the outcome has always been negative - we have nothing to show for it. We have no bundle of joy, and just two times the heartache. How could I possibly expect to "see the light at the end of the tunnel" or to find the hope and optimism for the future? And of course he did his best to tell me that we would find our light and we would get our happy ending as long as we believed we would. Thankfully our dinner came, and my thoughts were temporarily distracted by food.
Then, all of the sudden, seemingly out of the blue, a different train of thought hit me. I told Doug that I wanted us to start travelling more and going to places we had always wanted to go to but hadn't because life had gotten in the way. You know how you always have visions of how you want your life to be and dream about all of the things you are going to do when you're like 12 and growing up? Well, I'd say 9.7 times out of 10, those things never actually happen like you've dreamed them. When I was a younger teenager, I had visions that I'd be a famous skit actor like Molly Shannon. I portrayed a pretty good "Mary Catherine Gallagher" in a talent show, and I loved coming up with skits with my friends in my old youth group. Heck, some people even think I look like Molly Shannon. But as you can tell, I'm no famous actor and I don't really have any actual acting skills. I also had dreams about travelling the world and going diving with great white sharks in South Africa. But then, life gets in the way and you grow up and most of the dreams you had when you were younger are just that - dreams. You start worrying about grown up things like taking time off from school, and then work, and then you have to worry about finances and logistics, and those childhood dreams just fall to the wayside as pipe dreams. Well, I told Doug I wanted us to revisit some of those pipe dreams..
I started telling him about all the places I had dreamed about going at various times in my life. I wanted to go to Boston and do a pub crawl and see the historic sites, and to Philadelphia to eat an authentic cheesesteak. And I wanted to go to the Baltimore aquarium, because I've never actually been. And I wanted to take him to NY city because even though I've been several times, there's still plenty of things I want him to see since he's never been, and there's always something new to do there. And I want to go to Los Angeles and Hollywood and dip my feet in the Pacific Ocean. And I want to go back to the Grand Canyon and actually get to hike a trail and white water raft through the Colorado River. And I want to go to Yosemite National Park. And I want to go to Hawaii and walk through volcanoes and hike through its beautiful landscape. And I want to go to Harry Potter World in Disney and drink a butter beer (don't judge). And I want to backpack through England, Ireland, and Scotland, and explore the castles and the countryside and drink a pint in an actual pub. And I want to do a safari in Africa and see a great white shark (preferably from the safety of a boat). And I want to go on a cruise to Alaska and see a whale up close and go on a sledding adventure. And I want to do a National Geographic exploration trip to Iceland and Greenland - just because. And I'd love to go to Australia and New Zealand - they're both so beautiful in pictures. And I'd love to go to Fiji or Bora Bora and stare at the pristine water and beaches. And I want to swim with dolphins somewhere in the tropics. And I want to see Peyton Manning in action at a live football game (and maybe even get to meet him and get something signed) - heck, I'd love to see Peyton play the Pittsburgh Steelers live just so I could see him and Heath Miller at the same time. I could go on and on, but I'll stop there...
And then it hit me after rattling all of this off - I wanted to start going to some of these places I've never been to and dedicate it to Ellison. A friend of mine recently told me about an organization she participates in called "I Run 4." It's an organization that was started so that people could gain inspiration from children who are disabled, and then use that inspiration to start running for those children who simply cannot because of the hand they've been dealt. She told me there was a spin off called "I Run For...Remembrance" that is dedicated to those who run in remembrance of a lost loved one. I haven't been able to find much about this spin-off during my internet searches thus far, but it might be something I look into more when I'm actually able to start running again. But nonetheless this did spark something more immediate in me - another idea. Something I'd like to call "I live for..."
Now, in addition to all the bad luck I seemed to have been handed, I was also given a lack of creativity. I can't draw for anything, and I'm not artistic whatsoever. I have no special skills (musically, artistically, etc.) or hidden hobbies. I do get some creative thoughts in my head every once in awhile, but they never go far beyond that. Well tonight, the vision that popped into my head was that of a t-shirt. A t-shirt that would incorporate some design based off of the "I carry your heart" poem by E.E. Cummings (like a heart inside of a heart) on the front and then on the back it would say something like "I live for my guardian angel" and it would have Ellison's name on it. Don't ask me about the artistic nuances because those just don't exist in me. But, anyways, I'd wear this shirt whenever I went to a new place and I'd take a picture and I'd make a photo book and I'd post the photos on Facebook. That way, I would know I was living for Ellison - even though she's not here, I'd be living for her. And everyone else would know that whatever I was experiencing for the first time, so was she.
So if any of my artistic folk out there actually read this and can visualize what I'm talking about, let me know. But since I doubt it will go beyond my imagination, I'll just have to know that I live for her. And even though I know I probably will never get to Bora Bora or some of those exotic places I've dreamed of, I will make more of an effort to travel to some of the places I can get to that are new. And I'll take a picture of each new place for Ellison. Maybe that will take some of the darkness away, and won't make me as sad as I was today when I was at the river. Maybe it would be at least a flash of light in this seemingly dark world I find myself in...
If You're a Bird...
As I'm sure many other women in the midst of dating someone they are serious about have done, I forced Doug to watch "The Notebook" one night. I'm sure you know how the story goes - it's a love story for the ages. It centers around the characters of Noah and Allie, with Noah telling their story to his love Allie when she cannot remember it because time has stolen her memory. There's one scene in particular that sticks out to me. It's when they are young lovers playing on the beach. Allie tells Noah "Now say you're a bird." Noah replies, "If you're a bird, I'm a bird." And that pretty much sums it up for me - if Ellison's a bird, I'm a bird. Everything that I do, she will do, because she is indeed with me. She is my bird.
I was partly dreading yesterday and the service we were going to hold for Ellison. I knew it would be hard to face my family and confront the sadness, the reality of everything that was happening. She's been gone for three weeks - what feels like an eternity already yet still so fresh in my mind and heart like it was back at 3 pm on February 1st. I knew it wasn't going to be a formal to-do, just a simple gathering of our loved ones to spend some time remembering Ellison and reflecting on our loss. But it still seemed so impossible to handle. I felt physically sick to my stomach - the churning of my emotions was travelling all the way to the pit of my stomach. None of it seemed fair, none of it was right, but it was real and we all have to confront reality.
Doug's family was present and my family was present, along with my good friend/pastor/youth leader/jack of all trades. She was present at the hospital back on February 1st and had baptized Ellison. It was only right that she should be a part of this and help us come together for this remembrance. She is so good with words when words seem to escape the rest of us. And I knew her words would be comforting not only to me and Doug, but to the rest of my family that was also feeling this immense loss. She had written her words down for our informal gathering and they were beautiful - they were words of sadness, hope, and love. She borrowed a few tidbits from my own past blogs, she borrowed some from scripture, and she borrowed some words from a book she had given to me that was written by other mothers grieving their own losses of a child. One of the scriptures she read was the same that she had read at Doug and I's wedding - the standard scripture most are familiar with - 1 Corinthians 13. The love scripture as it's commonly known. I won't completely write it down, but I will quote one part "it always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." And this is true of love - my love for Ellison will always protect me, and will always persevere. One day I know I will be able to find hope through that love for her and it will be a hope for the future. It's just hard to understand and accept that right now, but I will do my best to.
Towards the end of the remembrance, our friend/pastor read the poem I had shared on my blog "When Tomorrow Starts Without Me." And then, we each wrote a little note to Ellison and attached it to a balloon. I won't share what I wrote in mine - it's the one thing I will leave secret between her and I. But I will say that the last line was "Love Forever, Mommy." We went out front and released all of the balloons and notes into the air to fly away. Luckily, despite the crazy wind, they floated past all of the neighbors' trees and soared away. In my mind, I'd like to think they reached her where she was sitting on top of a cloud somewhere playing with her friends. But despite where those balloons actually ended up, I know she saw what was written on those cards.
After Doug released the balloons and they floated out of eyesight, we just hugged each other and cried. We then went back inside and just visited with family for the rest of the afternoon. While I was sitting in one of the chairs talking, Natalie told me that she had drawn a picture for Ellie on her card. It was a picture of Doug and I with sad faces. She asked me "as Ellie's mother, do you miss her?" I told her "yes, I miss her all the time, and it makes me sad because I love her so much." And then she said that's why she drew the sad faces on Dougle and I because she wants Ellie to know we're sad without her. How amazingly brilliant a 4 yr old in all of her innocence can be. And that, my friends, sums up perfectly that little remembrance we had for our Ellison. We all want her to know we're sad that she's not with us, and we will always be sad. We will be sad as a family and we will always remember her and think of her. As her mother, I will always be sad and miss her just as I have every day since she left us. This was not closure, but just another beginning. My love for her will perservere for all of eternity. After all, I've loved her ever since I knew her, and she is my bird....So just as Allie and Noah tell each other at the of "The Notebook," "I'll be seeing you" Ellie.
-I'm not sure what the future of my blog holds. I may not write long rambling topics each day, I may only write a few words. I may not decide to post everything on Facebook each day but rather just quietly add to the blog. Feel free to save the link and check back as you wish, or if you even want to. I do know I'll probably write a little something every day - be it a quote, or a thought, or something. I plan to do this each and every day for the first year. I have to do it for my Ellison so she knows she's not alone and that her mother cares for her in so many ways. It's just something I feel in my heart that I must do...
I was partly dreading yesterday and the service we were going to hold for Ellison. I knew it would be hard to face my family and confront the sadness, the reality of everything that was happening. She's been gone for three weeks - what feels like an eternity already yet still so fresh in my mind and heart like it was back at 3 pm on February 1st. I knew it wasn't going to be a formal to-do, just a simple gathering of our loved ones to spend some time remembering Ellison and reflecting on our loss. But it still seemed so impossible to handle. I felt physically sick to my stomach - the churning of my emotions was travelling all the way to the pit of my stomach. None of it seemed fair, none of it was right, but it was real and we all have to confront reality.
Doug's family was present and my family was present, along with my good friend/pastor/youth leader/jack of all trades. She was present at the hospital back on February 1st and had baptized Ellison. It was only right that she should be a part of this and help us come together for this remembrance. She is so good with words when words seem to escape the rest of us. And I knew her words would be comforting not only to me and Doug, but to the rest of my family that was also feeling this immense loss. She had written her words down for our informal gathering and they were beautiful - they were words of sadness, hope, and love. She borrowed a few tidbits from my own past blogs, she borrowed some from scripture, and she borrowed some words from a book she had given to me that was written by other mothers grieving their own losses of a child. One of the scriptures she read was the same that she had read at Doug and I's wedding - the standard scripture most are familiar with - 1 Corinthians 13. The love scripture as it's commonly known. I won't completely write it down, but I will quote one part "it always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." And this is true of love - my love for Ellison will always protect me, and will always persevere. One day I know I will be able to find hope through that love for her and it will be a hope for the future. It's just hard to understand and accept that right now, but I will do my best to.
Towards the end of the remembrance, our friend/pastor read the poem I had shared on my blog "When Tomorrow Starts Without Me." And then, we each wrote a little note to Ellison and attached it to a balloon. I won't share what I wrote in mine - it's the one thing I will leave secret between her and I. But I will say that the last line was "Love Forever, Mommy." We went out front and released all of the balloons and notes into the air to fly away. Luckily, despite the crazy wind, they floated past all of the neighbors' trees and soared away. In my mind, I'd like to think they reached her where she was sitting on top of a cloud somewhere playing with her friends. But despite where those balloons actually ended up, I know she saw what was written on those cards.
After Doug released the balloons and they floated out of eyesight, we just hugged each other and cried. We then went back inside and just visited with family for the rest of the afternoon. While I was sitting in one of the chairs talking, Natalie told me that she had drawn a picture for Ellie on her card. It was a picture of Doug and I with sad faces. She asked me "as Ellie's mother, do you miss her?" I told her "yes, I miss her all the time, and it makes me sad because I love her so much." And then she said that's why she drew the sad faces on Dougle and I because she wants Ellie to know we're sad without her. How amazingly brilliant a 4 yr old in all of her innocence can be. And that, my friends, sums up perfectly that little remembrance we had for our Ellison. We all want her to know we're sad that she's not with us, and we will always be sad. We will be sad as a family and we will always remember her and think of her. As her mother, I will always be sad and miss her just as I have every day since she left us. This was not closure, but just another beginning. My love for her will perservere for all of eternity. After all, I've loved her ever since I knew her, and she is my bird....So just as Allie and Noah tell each other at the of "The Notebook," "I'll be seeing you" Ellie.
-I'm not sure what the future of my blog holds. I may not write long rambling topics each day, I may only write a few words. I may not decide to post everything on Facebook each day but rather just quietly add to the blog. Feel free to save the link and check back as you wish, or if you even want to. I do know I'll probably write a little something every day - be it a quote, or a thought, or something. I plan to do this each and every day for the first year. I have to do it for my Ellison so she knows she's not alone and that her mother cares for her in so many ways. It's just something I feel in my heart that I must do...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)