364 days

I’ve been dreading tomorrow.  After tomorrow passes, I won’t be able to include Breelyn in my look back at the year. My memories will fade.  Today I remember with complete clarity what I was doing the week before she died.  I had a rocking presentation at work.   I was kicking butt on breastfeeding and pumping.  I’d created a Father’s Day card with Brooklyn and Breelyn’s handprints traced.  I dressed them in their first matching church outfits and took their last sister picture.  Breelyn had just started drooling so I put her first bib on.  We all had breakfast together as Breelyn sat in her carrier on top of the table.  And then Dave, Brooklyn, and Breelyn got into the car and drove away.  And hours later, our lives had changed forever.

It still hurts.  I hate that it ever happened. I hate that others have to go through this- that others will come after me.  And so I’m taking a moment of sadness, to just say that this totally stinks.  I hate it.

Tomorrow we are going to release butterflies at Breelyn’s grave and we’ll read a piece that my sister Amber found.  I think that it summarizes exactly what a parent (or at least this parent) is thinking.  Thanks for listening.

We Thought of You
We thought of you with love today
But that is nothing new
We thought about you yesterday
And the day before that too

We think of you in silence
We often say your name
But all we have is memories
And your picture in a frame

Your memory is our keepsake
With which we’ll never part
God has you in his keeping
We have you in our hearts

We shed tears for what might have been
A million times we’ve cried
If love alone could’ve saved you
You never would’ve died

In life we loved you dearly
In death we love you still
In our hearts you hold a place
No-one could ever fill

It broke our hearts to lose you
But you didn’t go alone
For part of us went with you
And now we’re praying for when God will take us all home