I remember how excited I was for your birth.
Your due date was the 5th, but you in your own strong ways, waited till the 19th. Your dad even kept taking me on river bed Jeep rides trying to induce labor.
It was a late Saturday night on the 18th that I started true labor. I made sure I took shower and shaved my legs in between the pains before waking your dad to go to the hospital.
I was so aware of this sacred event just beginning to unfold. We didn't know if you were a boy or girl....
When I woke after the c-section, I heard your dad saying over and over...it's a Sarah.....it's a Sarah....and I opened my eyes and saw you for the very first time.
What a joy beyond words.
I was told I wouldn't be able to have children.
You were my miracle.
You would have been 35 this year.
So many things that might have been if you lived.
But, you did not.
I just miss you.
But am so very glad you lived...what a joy, unspeakable...sweet girl. I sure love you.
Thursday, November 07, 2013
Friday, September 27, 2013
I have so many memories today of you and your "Sarah" way of living--how totally wild and well you lived. Burning the candle at not only both ends, but somehow in the middle too. I didn't know how short your life would be and sometimes would tell you to slow down, take it easy and you would just laugh at me...and keep on living the way you did. Now it makes sense to me. I am glad you didn't listen to me but to your own internal compass.
It is hard to believe 6 years have passed.
How in the world did I keep walking this out?
How did Chris keep walking? The friends and family...how?
I know that God is so good to us...present in our agony, our sorrow, to help us. To help me....
Just having such a hope to see you in the next life, the one that doesn't end. The one my heart sings for.
Today is somehow better for me, to get to the anniversary finally after weeks of remembering and agonizing all over again the terrible tragedy and all the events that shook our world.
I celebrate today-your sweet and tender life...you.
I love you sweet Sarah C.
I miss you so...
Thursday, September 26, 2013
So much I want to tell you about. How I wish you could have met Rick and seen our life....how happy you would be.
So much missed...
Friday, September 20, 2013
God, how does one walk this whole journey out?
Some days, it just seems like I see you, some girl with long hair turns her head just like you did and flips up her hair and for a second I see you.
Then a laugh in the distance has a sound like yours and I turn my head...and it hits me all over again...
Some days it is just too much to keep on living. But I do.
It can wreck your mind to imagine it all over again, so don't go there too long, yet I do.
just missing you.
Missing being in Manarola, wanting to sit quietly...watch the waves...
Words don't come as often now, yet they swirl all the time in my heart...waiting to come out. So here are some, to lay on this page, for me to see in print.
Most days are not too bad, yet some days just are...
Today is one, near the time of this 6th anniversary. Full moons, smells of decay in the air. Crickets chirping...memories calling.
You were the absolute best. My dearest friend. My sweet Sarah C.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Sunday, May 12, 2013
You guys came over to us--said, "Sit up!" You each threw another towel across our chest and set the tray on our lap and said, "Happy Mother's Day!" and left the room....oh yeah, you took a picture of us that Marty has a copy of--it is bad...wow. We just looked at each other after you left the room and laughed right out loud! What kids!!
Here I am now, and you are gone to heaven now for 5 1/2 years. I have learned so much in this time. I have met so many other moms who too, have lost a child or sometimes more than one. I have entered a group of the most precious people who have sent their most precious ahead to heaven and continue to stand up each day and keep walking forward. Some of us have other children, but the one we sent is not to ever be replaced...each was unique and precious to us.
Some have lost children in the most horrendous ways-by taking their own lives, or being killed by someone or in a car accident or a rogue wave...or death from a dreaded disease way too young, or even in midlife. I got an email today from a dear woman who is 85 who lost her dear daughter to cancer at 55. She still grieves deeply. Each of us has had to take that first step into this never known land of loss of our dear one.
I have learned so much from each of you--and the ones who don't read this blog. I feel your presence on most every day, a silent holding of hands as we continue one. Sometimes when I think I can't take another step, someone corresponds, or writes something to touch and encourage.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Somedays there are moments I am so disjointed in being present. I feel caught between a place that includes you and the other place where you are not here.
Easter was a dear and precious time for us. Somehow it was a time of such hope--resurrection, "He is risen" were words often spoken. It is truly still my hope. So many family have gone on now, including you.
I want to keep on.
This post isn't making much sense. I should write more often. My fingers are stiff with words not written.
Ache in my throat...holding back the tears. No words to say that will make the ache go away. No great ending paragraph that will tie it all up and make it clear.
This loss is a lifelong loss...a loss for each day, every day till I die. I miss you. I may live well, laugh and enjoy, but there is always an ache. Memories of you make me smile and remember the dear things...but they don't take away the ache.
It is a road that never gets better...at least I don't think it will this side of heaven. Just missing you. sweet, sweet girl....