tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86623432024-03-07T03:30:57.634-05:00true northThis is a blog that has taken on the journey for me of grief. I originally started this blog to have a place to process my mom dying of cancer in 2004. Just as I began to again write of joy in the summer of 2007, my only daughter Sarah was hit and killed by a rogue wave while vacationing in the Cinque Terra with her husband Christopher. Since then, this blog again has been a place for me to write the journey of the deep grief of losing my dearest daughter and friend.christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.comBlogger219125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-57951708347327165682023-09-26T21:53:00.006-04:002023-09-26T21:55:13.878-04:0016 years 2023<p> My sweet girl, how can it be so very long, 16 years now. </p><p>It's just so long. </p><p>I miss you so. </p><p>My heart aches. ❤️ </p><p>Words don't fit together to describe the journey. It's mostly times of quietness for me. Quiet grief. Sometimes tears... sometimes silence. </p><p>We'll go tomorrow to Lakeview Cemetery on the 27th, the 1st time since placing your ashes there last fall. I don't know how it will go. </p><p>Then we will join Christopher and Tiffany and Tom and Marty to go to Mi Bella for dinner together. God will be with us as we remember you. </p><p>Tim and Sally are in the Cinque Terre and will go to Manarola for you at the site of your death. My heart will be there with them. </p><p>Tender. I'm tender. </p><p>Ache.</p><p>Miss.</p><p>You.</p>christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-9440982446130855812022-09-23T13:46:00.000-04:002022-09-27T11:06:39.906-04:0015 years. September 27 2007-September 27, 2022<p> As we all come to this 15th anniversary, I find myself less on words and in deep quietness seeing this many years have gone by. Grief is a long journey that you really don't have any idea about. You just feel your way along each day and week and month and year as it goes by...anniversaries and birthdays and special "Just to me days" find me remembering...as I am sure everyone who loved and knew you also does.</p><p>I was writing in my morning pages and realized that part of the wordlessness I feel is that the container I had for this journey of loss is out of letters to form words..inside the container, there are broken letters and just a few at the bottom of my heart to form new and meaningful words to speak my heart at 15 years...it is like an almost empty box of alphabet cereal---just a few letters and lots of dust and crumbs. Somehow it felt significant, as this year, in just a few weeks, we will place your ashes in Lakeview Cemetery--in a glassed in area--for others to see and visit. I am trying to find things to place in there with you...what in the world will those things be? So many of the little items I have are meaningful to me...our journey...help me Papa to find what will be there.</p><p>So, somehow it seems like a new time is beginning...a turn in this long road of grief...new discoveries...Fuller hope of heaven and resurrection...Missing you still fiercely...as many do.</p><p>I wish we could have gone to Italy...just to sit there. be very still. Your ashes will now be in Little Italy and others can visit you there...and sit and remember their own stories with you. I'm so glad you have impacted so many on the way...your love for life--your passion for adventure and love and each thing you loved...so impactful. </p><p>Just miss you my girl. Each day is closer to seeing the fullness of what you already know. </p><p>My words are few, my heart is still living with courage. Thankful for the ones I travel this journey with...my Rick, my family, my dear friends...so blessed. </p><p>But it still catches my breath, knowing that it is now 15 years. too long.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpNRB4rOtpSEOdTrdvbHOTcsTAYwgDrg-i8YYyLeNSEzk5UdjBB4j45ggIVdp5wKtd_k3sNSVZKu1VoI4X8ZkOavdRBpGA_39CkKrrqz6RHvu59_3b1qGnYfXJ8dm1VGfCbStVjhUH3xVRSbHz7TXAi68wzw90y8kcrEjNdLqUUo_n9PmQ3Q/s135/work_4436690_3_flat,135x135,075,t.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="135" data-original-width="135" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpNRB4rOtpSEOdTrdvbHOTcsTAYwgDrg-i8YYyLeNSEzk5UdjBB4j45ggIVdp5wKtd_k3sNSVZKu1VoI4X8ZkOavdRBpGA_39CkKrrqz6RHvu59_3b1qGnYfXJ8dm1VGfCbStVjhUH3xVRSbHz7TXAi68wzw90y8kcrEjNdLqUUo_n9PmQ3Q/s1600/work_4436690_3_flat,135x135,075,t.jpg" width="135"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS8tAqHJMERJtt4i4jTTb3rWtuDZoSHcsAupE-7gpjiv8zhUpzZCy2iiC_YgwMKW4HCNocWbMtLZL0p_s0UXy_pizwG1KLFlFHch9sWiN0DyF3jxtfNb0TlP0x3EqouyJu2Rx3zTRtgkegHnqyB_w01yp05OgTLKPgf83s170z_q9NGo4wXw/s240/2405274975_c934d5f180_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="240" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS8tAqHJMERJtt4i4jTTb3rWtuDZoSHcsAupE-7gpjiv8zhUpzZCy2iiC_YgwMKW4HCNocWbMtLZL0p_s0UXy_pizwG1KLFlFHch9sWiN0DyF3jxtfNb0TlP0x3EqouyJu2Rx3zTRtgkegHnqyB_w01yp05OgTLKPgf83s170z_q9NGo4wXw/s1600/2405274975_c934d5f180_m.jpg" width="240"></a></div><br><p></p>christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-55775009575501387012021-10-10T14:41:00.000-04:002021-10-10T14:41:20.080-04:00<p> As the days grow longer since you've been gone, I find myself with less words. Seems that the days are long... in these days around your anniversary of your death, then just short weeks till your birthday would be. I don't feel like talking much.</p><p>I miss you...and wish I could remember you better...with something fresh--a new picture, a new memory...not just revisiting the old ones...but the journey changes.</p><p>A new part of the journey is that Christopher has found a place for your ashes...we went there in July to see it...and picked out this place. It is in Little Italy...in Lake View Cemetery in Cleveland. </p><p>So, in the future, we will design this nitch we picked out for your ashes to be held...and someday both Christopher and my ashes will be there too. I'm still processing all this. Not many words. It is time, but then time seems to not understand the heart.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXQurfDxFlEel8bHAKTENy9H-WYyJlzMhyphenhyphenSmUmLuIHaW0le5rtYxbsoh8zRrxTkoB2V5qITFwH-hS6m9YuTlSKT8OBIGiRrkYEKU8iunSdsK-ih9UVbyrhSjywXiI70gC2kjGm/s2048/20210802_130818.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXQurfDxFlEel8bHAKTENy9H-WYyJlzMhyphenhyphenSmUmLuIHaW0le5rtYxbsoh8zRrxTkoB2V5qITFwH-hS6m9YuTlSKT8OBIGiRrkYEKU8iunSdsK-ih9UVbyrhSjywXiI70gC2kjGm/s320/20210802_130818.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Lake View Cemetery...this is the future home. By the Mayfield Road gate--right to the right when coming in.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9uCWZu6Vek8ZhV6TsM397Sly0wm3dJm38ElalwJ3l6E8e0mjEcQQDgfRoXcAY5xvnDACaQSkAbp2qqLYOmnb4sc2lUzCVe7oSQ1Hyal1Dt9pbG1Kqt7HW2o5G-4f0rKYVSruy/s2048/20210802_170044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9uCWZu6Vek8ZhV6TsM397Sly0wm3dJm38ElalwJ3l6E8e0mjEcQQDgfRoXcAY5xvnDACaQSkAbp2qqLYOmnb4sc2lUzCVe7oSQ1Hyal1Dt9pbG1Kqt7HW2o5G-4f0rKYVSruy/s320/20210802_170044.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The 4 of us have been on quite a journey--and we share it together...with a tenderness that defies any words. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKWdbzDF7HWq8D_PuSDt_qzLP8xPqVwOOAP1D1h9GG4amuzwBFLCBjhH8f6QbOBHZkSRge1nVjukRisUSeCKtr6e5aoddkuWLFPQxITqM59yOBZnEwU46Xt5ZU942-HCOAwiJE/s2048/20210802_174600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKWdbzDF7HWq8D_PuSDt_qzLP8xPqVwOOAP1D1h9GG4amuzwBFLCBjhH8f6QbOBHZkSRge1nVjukRisUSeCKtr6e5aoddkuWLFPQxITqM59yOBZnEwU46Xt5ZU942-HCOAwiJE/s320/20210802_174600.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Italy...even here in USA</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilpu0-v7a89dDmWJLbrq70cL3ZyNixDj8WYlcgkE9e8NxX94ax4hVlK5qWwswgeNyvWYzct3XKQ7XpL97XKHIPfwh6A-ntth11epa6mLmhW-sRymd4aTWh3PM_NRGoW0q3Fkna/s2048/20210802_192358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilpu0-v7a89dDmWJLbrq70cL3ZyNixDj8WYlcgkE9e8NxX94ax4hVlK5qWwswgeNyvWYzct3XKQ7XpL97XKHIPfwh6A-ntth11epa6mLmhW-sRymd4aTWh3PM_NRGoW0q3Fkna/s320/20210802_192358.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So proud of his life...both of us held up.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJps1KWQzujqkFaZxrXZXNMbvvHhYiLAPctDgTYrFDT085I5DejF2Qytfrup9YvTpdB9aEL0qvYN_LZAwOudO4xJv2981WBVG8cygybRrFGWyfnOptC-hLt-n2AHvl2URCZgl/s2048/20210802_152452.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJps1KWQzujqkFaZxrXZXNMbvvHhYiLAPctDgTYrFDT085I5DejF2Qytfrup9YvTpdB9aEL0qvYN_LZAwOudO4xJv2981WBVG8cygybRrFGWyfnOptC-hLt-n2AHvl2URCZgl/s320/20210802_152452.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">this is the entrance for the place. Sarah's ashes will be on the left right inside the door.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvl0JGZUt-p-6zKJkjh8Pup0FbnvDZxAV4klqeQWQTwtpXrX_hdFX0w_FMAZAsR62xbLLBcd2BWChXEp54l3EY3DfOplm3KhjG4XIZ2TMx7mJsR0OckxgYR3KyT5pRncViinRn/s2048/20210802_152351.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvl0JGZUt-p-6zKJkjh8Pup0FbnvDZxAV4klqeQWQTwtpXrX_hdFX0w_FMAZAsR62xbLLBcd2BWChXEp54l3EY3DfOplm3KhjG4XIZ2TMx7mJsR0OckxgYR3KyT5pRncViinRn/s320/20210802_152351.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>sitting looking at this space...deep in thought.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWTLCaAhvtYuohBVhfTbTxOLvSEeoWIyluTaK2pXK_dRbuL1LLBpcLit4IhT3bx83uprwwP7o_Nq5Yf8zDlHVbc3CtaZ1qMqfC0h2loSvLF9WgBvAq0BSz9tM_BS9JXVGg_Zz3/s2048/20210802_151311.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWTLCaAhvtYuohBVhfTbTxOLvSEeoWIyluTaK2pXK_dRbuL1LLBpcLit4IhT3bx83uprwwP7o_Nq5Yf8zDlHVbc3CtaZ1qMqfC0h2loSvLF9WgBvAq0BSz9tM_BS9JXVGg_Zz3/s320/20210802_151311.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The space is the 2nd one up between us.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoMpkJ2ahDM_pW6HVei1qAlAgU-kL67EKR3Hl0GsNOx1hbkNTQZqeclAyp4Y9L5ycipMWkFEq1ZXPfDXlrGgbvueyugLIPymB2v0Ubr1cFqMSGANs0BEkVSSY9NMnTwqbhKn5d/s2048/20210802_135751.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoMpkJ2ahDM_pW6HVei1qAlAgU-kL67EKR3Hl0GsNOx1hbkNTQZqeclAyp4Y9L5ycipMWkFEq1ZXPfDXlrGgbvueyugLIPymB2v0Ubr1cFqMSGANs0BEkVSSY9NMnTwqbhKn5d/s320/20210802_135751.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div></div><span><div style="text-align: center;"> When we first arrived, this was in the bathroom...the sign of the pilgrimage for the Camino...It really touched me more than any words can say....it is time.</div></span><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;">So, it is over 14 years now. that's really all. A big time for our hearts...so we will soak in this for now. Keep Walking...trusting. Held. Loved.</p>christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-19011306703579419032020-11-18T02:09:00.001-05:002020-11-18T02:09:09.929-05:0014 years now since you haven't had a birthday song<p> Awake, and when it comes---I know to come write. It is time to get all the words off my heart. I have been trying hard to not get drug under the water with my sorrow...to stay afloat in the life I am trying to live...it seems to swirl in me and then more and more memories come and they begin to weigh my heart down and I fear to go with them into the depths of sorrow. I fight to live well, awake, in love with my life, my art, my love. So much to still live for. Then there is the horror of the whole ordeal of you dying and being gone. You brought such life and laughter and fullness--everytime you walked into the room. You didn't know how to make a quiet entrance--it was as if you came into the moment with the sunshine. There truly was no one like you. I think back to the thousands of memories that only you and I knew about---the years of when it was just you and me. It was hard when your dad left us and we began to make our own life, but we did. And you grew up--and we had so much fun, even in the days that were just regular days. We traveled and did things to bring more color to an ordinary growing up. </p><p>I am so glad we made the choices to do things as you were gone so young, with so much left---that is the part that is so hard to not go there--so many things I knew you were looking forward to, memories to make, children to have...a career to fulfill...dreams and schemes...a franklin planner full of dates to fulfil with your friends, family, me and with Chris. </p><p>So, here I am again, November 19, 2020...3:27 p.m. 42 years later. I was waiting and probably couldn't sleep tonight all those years ago---uncomfortable with the weight of you in my belly...waiting to take your first of many breaths. A parent should never bury their child...so many lines stated in movies...and it is true, but in my life, it has happened. Rick never got to know you--and you would have loved him so much and he would have loved you too. There is an emptiness in us that is missed. But it is what it is and again, this date is right here before me... It isn't your death day, which is hard to even breath through since it just is....but it would be your birthday and you loved that day---you loved being celebrated-and you always loved celebrating the birthday's of those you loved...so on your birthday--why wouldn't it be all about you. </p><p>Too many words to not type or say--too many detours to avoid to keep sane...too many places I almost see you and hear you. </p><p>I know...you are safe in heaven and more glorious than I can even ever imagine...and that is a comfort...sometimes...and sometimes, not enough to hold me upright. Tonight...I teeter on the edge of that fine line...</p><p>I'm glad I had all the minutes and days and years. So, that is what I will celebrate again...what was given, as that is all you get...and again...the reminder to stay present, not in a bad way, but embracing what you have right now....I don't want to sound morbid or that I live in a way of waiting for the other shoe to drop...I did for quite sometime, but not now---I live well with full heart. I stay away from these words I'm putting on this page...it is to hard to write more than once or twice a year. I am wise with the use of them...it would drain me...leave me empty. I feel the angel holding my shoulders and keeping me upright...saying, "don't stay too long here...leave these words here and live"</p><p>So, I loved it all Sarah...every moment. even hard times...you were quite a handful at times...I don't think you knew you tested my last nerve as much as you did. I knew you were a firecracker...and so full. But, how proud I was of how you faced the sadness and sorrow of your dad leaving and him dying so young...and the other things too hard for your heart...you faced much and overcame and lived with a brightness many of us so loved and now miss. </p><p>you loved to be sung to---even as a young child, you had 5 songs...and if I didn't sing them all at bedtime, you would laughingly and in a knowing that was too young to know that this might someday be true---you would say to me, "mom, if I die, you will be so sad you didn't sing them all to me." Wish I could sing to you again sweet Sarah C. Miss you so. I hope you somehow can know how much we all love you and miss you. </p><p>mom</p>christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-14675104455564033532020-09-24T05:44:00.001-04:002020-09-24T05:44:24.250-04:00Nights are hard<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbjC31rSnBNEsLpMLSjtejt56xqfuFxbKDn23zvicBxoIi7F6gNJlQWrdfe3Q4t072elK2YevqWxCjvVRxql4OnIwczhSmeY28tE_Jf6StpWdigaUsJlXyYgkp_GTXi0XH8t7U/s2220/Screenshot_20200923-100656_Facebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="2220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbjC31rSnBNEsLpMLSjtejt56xqfuFxbKDn23zvicBxoIi7F6gNJlQWrdfe3Q4t072elK2YevqWxCjvVRxql4OnIwczhSmeY28tE_Jf6StpWdigaUsJlXyYgkp_GTXi0XH8t7U/s320/Screenshot_20200923-100656_Facebook.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHT55xzuel9KBe3Rq1Gt3ahCwbt_rUHN-M847Lh_Va-r2x_UnORf5ichTWUPjDh36E7BThmw4SKddlJowco9krRtiQRchaaWbOAiNt5BNmRanpIiTCPgqCLg411udmJNBlT96E/s2220/Screenshot_20200923-100816_Facebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="2220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHT55xzuel9KBe3Rq1Gt3ahCwbt_rUHN-M847Lh_Va-r2x_UnORf5ichTWUPjDh36E7BThmw4SKddlJowco9krRtiQRchaaWbOAiNt5BNmRanpIiTCPgqCLg411udmJNBlT96E/s320/Screenshot_20200923-100816_Facebook.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSD1E0rS9GaSyp73-ltt0RpO8psCLll-LPKLXruD2CebcQOYLHA8tw9bizwJhez1fmR1dzQlKdOUqVpP5QF8imb8cjPrdkvOkx5Tc5fLnwzhg1f2Oop7er1y6XulHkgYF3Avf/s2220/Screenshot_20200923-100829_Facebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="2220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSD1E0rS9GaSyp73-ltt0RpO8psCLll-LPKLXruD2CebcQOYLHA8tw9bizwJhez1fmR1dzQlKdOUqVpP5QF8imb8cjPrdkvOkx5Tc5fLnwzhg1f2Oop7er1y6XulHkgYF3Avf/s320/Screenshot_20200923-100829_Facebook.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7aBRN1325FUaJ1ePgWDEacQ_d-0ThbGwfe1OopDlb51slRWvpkC5m-GJXCDCaYTgDRUTzB8hJ5KT_rSxIOnsAGVA-lHHTM45g_2Do8eRU5d7-krQhQ_lClwBPUV8Sf0YmjulZ/s604/FB_IMG_1600869913849.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="453" data-original-width="604" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7aBRN1325FUaJ1ePgWDEacQ_d-0ThbGwfe1OopDlb51slRWvpkC5m-GJXCDCaYTgDRUTzB8hJ5KT_rSxIOnsAGVA-lHHTM45g_2Do8eRU5d7-krQhQ_lClwBPUV8Sf0YmjulZ/s320/FB_IMG_1600869913849.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> Just can't sleep. My mind goes where it wants, even as I try to be careful. Memories of these last days before you died... Thinking how fully you were living, how happy you both were, in Paris, in Lake Como... Last fling before you started your family.... So full. You lived backpacking. The 2 of you were so excited to go, to step away and you could show him how to do this. I love that Chris flew to Spain to see you in the fulness of your travels and finds love together. This trip was to be your trip. We were to see you in Rome and Venice... Missing your train in Paris by 1 minute made it all change... But, I do know the Father had your last day in his plan... This was not a mistake, yet it can drive my mind crazy at times...<p></p><p>These nights after you died were the worst... Long hours till dawn... I remember these hours on nights like tonight. I miss Harry, he always stayed next to me. He somehow knew. Rick would come out and be by me if I asked, but even he knows I need to just write. </p><p>Does it help? At least words get out of my head. Too many thoughts and replays... Over and over... Nearer the day now of your death. Chris is in it too... Holding on. Trying to stay from the wave. That wave....</p><p>Smellls and sounds from that land. So much kindness, so much sorrow. The church is probably remenbering her... So touches me... Wish I could be there, then I wouldn't have to imagine it, I'd be present, I'd smell the air. Somehow it would be a comfort. I am too far away... No place to go... Hard. </p>christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-27652351622709424882020-09-23T06:33:00.002-04:002020-09-23T06:33:43.851-04:0013 years, 2020<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhtkDl3yID-mIeZadCETVe6oUegmca5Cp09lznzNjeCpJ9xLgcuDsjG44pDK3ArlaXJVlOkd91Bm18PfYOOOYUjH1O54Axeziw6cdvRt_7KOuNkG2hiIcf_z-Iw8pZkhPXy6qp/s160/adult+holding+baby+finger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="106" data-original-width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhtkDl3yID-mIeZadCETVe6oUegmca5Cp09lznzNjeCpJ9xLgcuDsjG44pDK3ArlaXJVlOkd91Bm18PfYOOOYUjH1O54Axeziw6cdvRt_7KOuNkG2hiIcf_z-Iw8pZkhPXy6qp/s0/adult+holding+baby+finger.jpg" /></a>I remember on this day, how very small you came to me...you just looked a bit chinese in your eyes. Such small and soft fingers. You already had a fierce grip, on me, on life. I was amazed to have birthed you and knew what a gift I had been given. I really never thought I would have a child, so I was in such wonder. I am smiling as I write this as memories of those early days swirl by my mind. I knew I had been blessed to have a child as I knew too many who never got to have one of there own. I just was telling Shari about the day you were dedicated to the Lord, I lifted you up with both my hands and could almost hear the Lord say, "She isn't yours" and I released my fingers from my hold and just let you lie in both the palms of my hands. Never were you mine...you never were anyone's but your own and the Lord's. That did help me to know you were His when you left this earthly home to go to His. Short life-28 years, but that is what you were given. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ONIsy5Wk1FZdQen8mL62KurGP_z2G07tirS4XM0vsCTAzCbvOO_HgdGoMK8Yr8vshS7OZsAR6RiHB_o4c18qZtO-xYHOAit7-SsUnxhYNt7kRRIW2a69hxWnTL6Tes6ksNg5/s640/sarah%2527s+memorial.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ONIsy5Wk1FZdQen8mL62KurGP_z2G07tirS4XM0vsCTAzCbvOO_HgdGoMK8Yr8vshS7OZsAR6RiHB_o4c18qZtO-xYHOAit7-SsUnxhYNt7kRRIW2a69hxWnTL6Tes6ksNg5/s320/sarah%2527s+memorial.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is where I am in spirit today--at this memorial...I am here and will be in my heart as we walk these days till the 27th....then pack up our hearts to live another year---if given that gift. Year after year, I make a heart pilgrimage to this land so far away. Manarola, It is hard to have this land so far away....sometimes that ache of not being there right now is too much. I can smell the sea air, I hear the waves...I sense you there, yet know that is wild and can be too much. The flowers in my heart are there to leave with so much love...I think Paula will bring some for you...she often does. That means so much to me. Franco even wrote this morning of "un abbraccio". Made me cry. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgaJHPOoHy-8kQnx4jGR0pxV-PdxEBfOWmVL-x09mSvMBwfFXRrF4MwzUqErjkgCt7f1b8ET9XND1gGiMkX4wux7w_HBevD60LxEGKeACPTY7quzE_y_J8lyJjoUczQtmOCLI8/s318/lots+of+suitcases.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="159" data-original-width="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgaJHPOoHy-8kQnx4jGR0pxV-PdxEBfOWmVL-x09mSvMBwfFXRrF4MwzUqErjkgCt7f1b8ET9XND1gGiMkX4wux7w_HBevD60LxEGKeACPTY7quzE_y_J8lyJjoUczQtmOCLI8/s0/lots+of+suitcases.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So many of us who have lost, each with our own suitcases--carrying them in our heart--sometimes all the content gets spilled out on "remembering days", or days we just were not expecting. I feel I've journeyed long now with this suitcase of my own, and sometimes, I have to empty some and leave it as the load gets to heavy and I'm getting too old to carry too much. I know others who are just getting their first suitcase and learning how to pack it, and how to carry it...just is such a journey. so hard...so much to learn...</div><p><br /></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOJwffyDoXZt-mkMlGFL31YlUjjqrXnAS4Ap_AewjIknNCxlTn7hwU-JssGmV_iAavIjM1SBYygCzDd_mRr182_g6dkwL8YduExKKSlbMHBetTCYDYTnwR3ZcJWEUgBm6bEPB3/s960/FB_IMG_1511104667104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOJwffyDoXZt-mkMlGFL31YlUjjqrXnAS4Ap_AewjIknNCxlTn7hwU-JssGmV_iAavIjM1SBYygCzDd_mRr182_g6dkwL8YduExKKSlbMHBetTCYDYTnwR3ZcJWEUgBm6bEPB3/s320/FB_IMG_1511104667104.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">You are such a joy, a beauty--still loved by so many, my sweet girl. So many who knew you and were inspired by your freedom and fierceness and joy. We all so miss you and can hear your laugh...when we listen. Thank you. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwmmyhNkQSN0JOStedQ-wPYoW9aEUhCOD1dle_KjvQuck-pDfa7J6F7ZyQjl7XUoN4_xaB3eOY5nYUC2tYr-d6nKlKzw4YlIj7nEdgNjw13618APLIvaPaiKzwJrJBBVlyFc65/s2048/IMG_20140112_162807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwmmyhNkQSN0JOStedQ-wPYoW9aEUhCOD1dle_KjvQuck-pDfa7J6F7ZyQjl7XUoN4_xaB3eOY5nYUC2tYr-d6nKlKzw4YlIj7nEdgNjw13618APLIvaPaiKzwJrJBBVlyFc65/s320/IMG_20140112_162807.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is the view from your memorial site...so calm, so beautiful...so hard. A photo send to me by someone who visited your memorial.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN-ao6mDDDjLdNktX2qFlbCkYm9AXuE3r2aLiX6Qn0feI3fyqJhuvdp0YA3XQ7HrMGWwa0ri-PKWrJBpOokE_k1XdKfXVgJaJ4WQlfkjF8mkbZoZZEVdkPQsMyzQZvxjsE6432/s366/walking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="366" data-original-width="300" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN-ao6mDDDjLdNktX2qFlbCkYm9AXuE3r2aLiX6Qn0feI3fyqJhuvdp0YA3XQ7HrMGWwa0ri-PKWrJBpOokE_k1XdKfXVgJaJ4WQlfkjF8mkbZoZZEVdkPQsMyzQZvxjsE6432/s320/walking.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">You left us when so young...so much ahead. So full when that last step took you home. In fullness of life, gone. That is a place of where my mind must not wander. We must release you to the fullness of the Kingdom and the fullness of that eternal home with hope of more than we can ever imagine. I fix my eyes on this hope. I live it every day. I walk forward. I have learned to be careful to not linger in places of getting lost in this. I will run when it is my time, into this land. Laughing and grateful.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSM_OL3WOx-ohmT6MZp1d40sJhmrTAh0wJSf2uK2fFJoMCz4c0uhf6PipNkmflqEQtczNZKmWz8IvqmgtMysPplBT0kXeoC_2Pdq9JuNblwORLGRtQ1vuFnzT6sHkPKmUs57IP/s2048/IMG_20130710_142028_366.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSM_OL3WOx-ohmT6MZp1d40sJhmrTAh0wJSf2uK2fFJoMCz4c0uhf6PipNkmflqEQtczNZKmWz8IvqmgtMysPplBT0kXeoC_2Pdq9JuNblwORLGRtQ1vuFnzT6sHkPKmUs57IP/s320/IMG_20130710_142028_366.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This life each of us has been given is a gift. Each day, each moment is a gift from Papa. He knows and is present and helps. I lean into Him for my breath. I press on. I hope in Him. I love this precious gift I've been given. My tears are held by him and kept by Him and are precious to Him.</div><p><br /></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpOzqbERVzIykw3zhyXh8thSjkH0QhVXKBP7aoYD11Fh8Xh3C-7IAPId7pTla7VyTWEhJ5gDTqocFkeF9lc2_s39mfqoQwYwRowAOOeIuFw2jj-q8LhuI5wL8pVF-aVrYF3dYe/s2669/20200923_055009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2669" data-original-width="1178" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpOzqbERVzIykw3zhyXh8thSjkH0QhVXKBP7aoYD11Fh8Xh3C-7IAPId7pTla7VyTWEhJ5gDTqocFkeF9lc2_s39mfqoQwYwRowAOOeIuFw2jj-q8LhuI5wL8pVF-aVrYF3dYe/s320/20200923_055009.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A gift made for Sarah by friends. A tribute to her life. True words. Blessed this momma. Just think...it could have been that maybe no one ever liked her---but so untrue. She was loved deeply, by so many. Remembered well by many. This 27th, there will be many toasts and tears again, as we stop and remember. Then each of us will again pack up our tender thoughts and memories, wrap them in tender clothes full of tears and walk on...holding them close as we live well. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">13...long time.</div><br /><p></p>christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-71442203108112570552020-03-01T11:52:00.001-05:002020-03-01T11:52:28.608-05:00am still learning and seeing with the eyes you give me to see....12 1/2 years later....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi10ml290Ek9KmZmaGbNFwyB5fSc8dJ1B59rj5jWwaKbmlbnJLlzlFr6DvxQNqMCVGS_BMWx-Jy1hGx8G0QzhGcyWg5DeQMfmHtsmz9KmtIziaD-RsGvbaAjAp0qkISVCC-aHRJ/s1600/20200301_111410.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi10ml290Ek9KmZmaGbNFwyB5fSc8dJ1B59rj5jWwaKbmlbnJLlzlFr6DvxQNqMCVGS_BMWx-Jy1hGx8G0QzhGcyWg5DeQMfmHtsmz9KmtIziaD-RsGvbaAjAp0qkISVCC-aHRJ/s320/20200301_111410.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpW447Ez9NceRQVu7Oe_d26ZR1V23JLbibfjNn8bhMhToz8AUJQo0b6FjAjEPCZbeRSCbbnrH9a595CzQ0sIbqBz-DGF3ZdXyuC_5nG-RJ9PFF36BqnHZRMGW9B6iMVT1gFzjv/s1600/20200301_111403.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpW447Ez9NceRQVu7Oe_d26ZR1V23JLbibfjNn8bhMhToz8AUJQo0b6FjAjEPCZbeRSCbbnrH9a595CzQ0sIbqBz-DGF3ZdXyuC_5nG-RJ9PFF36BqnHZRMGW9B6iMVT1gFzjv/s320/20200301_111403.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I was given this picture of the older man carrying a girl and pointing...right after Sarah died by my dear friend Peggy Wheeler...she said it is from a children's book...can't remember right now which one...but it spoke to her of Sarah and God carrying her....to heaven. At the time, it deeply blessed and ministered to my broken momma's heart...<br />
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Then, at Sarah's ceremony 7 months after she died, the President of the Cinque Terre--Franco Bonanini, had this painting of her commissioned by Silvio Benedetto, It is a stunning painting that he did--he did this from her last photo which Christopher took before she was taken into the sea by the wave. <br />
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At the celemony to honor her, Silvio described--of course in Italian, why he changed the colors from the original picture, to reflect what he had heard of Sarah's romantic nature...it has hung in my home since the moment he said "la mamma" and handed it to me in July 2008.<br />
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This morning during my quiet sabbath morning...I was listening to the worship song "Oceans", by Hillsong...a song which blesses me and causes me to cry so.. as I was listening and looking at this painting, I became aware, for the first time of an eye near the bottom of the painting...and I was stunned and it deeply caught my breath. I stayed in this for a long time...and then remembered this other picture given to me...the eye seemed so familiar...I had put this picture in my treasure box Rick had given me on our 1st Christmas after we married in 2008. I hold many treasures in there...many of Sarah's last things and gifts.<br />
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As I found it and held it to the painting...more tears than words came...yes...a great similarity...2 different artists, but they captured an eye...the eye of God? Yes to my soul....and a comfort to this momma...<br />
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I shared this with Rick and then he saw a set of another eyes above this single eye---seeming to be looking upward...was this her angel, another part of the trinity? Both of us deeply touched today...many tears...just amazed...grateful for our hope in heaven. Our Poppa who continues to reveal and be on the move. <br />
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I am sore in my momma's heart...so many tears still, seems there is no end...but I know she is good...and home. and someday, so will we both be...and until then, hoping and believing.christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-48659303515644849522019-09-23T10:23:00.001-04:002019-09-23T23:31:40.857-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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9/27/2019 <br />
12 years. I don't even know this road..<br />
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grief is a long journey if you keep living and i am trying my best to do that. i am not sure how many days i will be given, and that is the wonder of it. HOPE is my core of my heart. I HOPE with all my being. I stay to the course, the path given. I fix my eyes on Jesus. Hope springs forth--sometimes heaven feels so very close. i close my eyes and sense....<br />
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i miss you sweet girl. i think of you so very often. i wonder and if too long...i can slip into place of deep sorrow. i guess that is how us momma's do it when one of our babies goes to heaven before we do.<br />
we cared so for you for however many years or days we were given after carrying you in our belly---or waiting for you to arrive however you did--to our welcoming arms. i couldn't wait to hold you. i held my belly long before i held you in my arms and i never got enough of that. i can still feel your hugs.<br />
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i am that...a grieving momma...those words are a lament...a song sung in my soul...sometimes the sound that can come from my soul is so deep and cutting...i feel i could pull out my heart and squeeze it till all is gone...i am not the same. i have changed. i walk and run and work and play and paint and laugh and cook and sleep...but i am not the same. my core is changed. a part of me is gone. it just is.<br />
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This man is a true gift given to me. i am grateful beyond any words i could ever say. I can't imagine how my life would have been without this gift. I am just loved, held, a partner with the kindness man i've ever know. thank you Father. So many fires were made on this beach...with so many people who came to remember....I miss them all this year, as this year is different...we will not be with any of them. We live in a new land.<br />
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i miss this land...our beach...our lake...a place i wish today i could sink my toes into. we have a new land. we have many new beautiful beaches, but today and in these days...i want to be here.<br />
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where i am in my heart right now---lingering...sitting on the bench infront of your plaque...quiet, watching the water...listening...waiting...i don't know what for...but i need to stay for a long time.<br />
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yes, by so many. and you are...so loved.<br />
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you are my sweet girl. i will hold you again someday, but all will be changed...and i can't even imagine. it will be fuller and more than i can imagine...and i will run with a freedom i can only imagine. HOPE will be fulfilled with all the best of the best. I will see and know and no more pain or sorrow...<br />
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but for now.....<br />
i will press on. I will love well and full. I will breathe deeply and fully of moments. I will toast small things and big things. I will listen and be near and present as best I can.<br />
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in the midst of that, the well of my tears is full and spills out...so this week of your death anniversary when you were so very young...i will walk softly, carefully. i get lost and it is hard. no map.<br />
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no map.<br />
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<br />christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-72231526681555276202019-01-07T10:51:00.001-05:002019-01-07T10:51:47.775-05:00New land 2019Wow.<br />
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It is hard to believe we have moved and are now in New Bern NC. I find this move challenging in so many ways--leaving behind my family and friends again. I moved back in the 80s to Newark Ohio when going through my divorce. Then moved back home in 2002 when Sarah had moved to pursue her relationship with Christopher. I stayed there--eventually moving back into our beach cottage in 2004 and stayed there till we moved a month ago.<br />
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Just wow....so here I am. In a whole new land. Unpacking and choosing what can stay, what will be part of the journey here. It has been sort of deeply freeing in a way...a finding of myself in a place I haven't really taken the time to do ever...seems like careers, and other things always banter for time and your energy. <br />
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I am sitting in what will be my new studio. Oddly enough, in the last year as we considered relocation--to who knows where, I began to feel I had outgrown the space Rick had created for me. It felt tight, I worked more in the garage...yet still loved being in there. As I began to pack last June--I started with my Sarah's corner--a place to honor and remember...and just savor my heart. <br />
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I tucked away these precious few things I had kept to remind me...to treasure and keep...little things...of no value to anyone but me...<br />
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So now, here I am in a whole new place, touching and feeling these same things again...trying to discover if they will find a home here..and oddly enough...some are and some are not. I find myself entering a new season of what it is like to live while missing your sweet daughter...who is gone over 10 years...tender is my heart with this...<br />
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I can hardly find words that help this even make sense...My word for 2019 is Pilgrimage...and it is a deep and full word...I've been on this for many years, yet this year, it makes sense to hold it before me. A pilgrim is a brave soul willing to venture forth to a new land...to discover...what will be discovered. <br />
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A pilgrim can't carry too much or your hands will be too full to touch and embrace anything new...so the treasure box is a place you can leave things to venture forth. I am doing this every day right now--it is part of this new season. A season closer to heaven too for me. I don't want to hold onto anything that keeps me from doing this, so am being quite brave...<br />
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I have had a rich and full life...and am so very grateful. I wish Sarah were here to see and know...yet, I don't think I would be doing this is my life were full of her and her children and life to be lived with that gift.....<br />
Rick's kids and grands are all beginning to live their own lives--as they are older. I hope we are good examples of living full.<br />
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So, here it is, today...a day I am beginning to see a new land, a new place to live from...thankful for Rick. Memories of my sweet Sarah C...tucked in my heart...Hoping to someday tell her I was brave enough to keep on and live from a fullness...coraggio...<br />
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<br />christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-16854031787492015872018-09-26T07:07:00.005-04:002018-09-26T07:07:58.810-04:00 remembering the beginnings of honoring the day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
today is the day before you died in 2007. it is early. I wake up and ache. I try to go back to sleep. no chance of that.</div>
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I come to this blog to write. I don't know what I will write, I just hope it will get some of the ache out of my fingers where it feels so very full.</div>
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I go to my pictures and find these--the very first time we crossed the day you died...and we took some of your ashes and put them into Lake Erie, on your beach, "Sarah's beach".</div>
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Many came that year-to be together, to honor a life, to be near each other...still lost in this whole thing...</div>
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Sue had tshirts make for us--we bought them from her to get money raised for your scholarship fund--for art therapy students-Chris's idea...which is still going on.</div>
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I forgot that all these people came that day--and stayed and ate and drank and told Sarah stories...this cottage was full...full of ones who loved you so. tears...toasts...this is the day it began...remembering you.</div>
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now it is year 11.</div>
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quieter now. no party. trying to figure out what to do tomorrow to honor you. </div>
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I get lost. so do others still. the hallway is quiet on this side of heaven. we who are still here just hang hard onto hope.</div>
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Hope</div>
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I Hope in heaven. </div>
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I hope I see you again.</div>
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All will be made new.</div>
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Trust.</div>
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Believe.</div>
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But right now in the midst if remembering that you had your last full wonderful day of life with Chris today in Italy---and had no idea it was your last...my oh my...that is a place I walk so softly through.</div>
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Memories--tomorrow brings some of the worst for me. my fingers search the keys on this keyboard for what is trying to be said....like a dance they move but do not type, searching...searching..</div>
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so, I will go now and drink some coffee. I will listen to the rain. I will hope in heaven. I will trust.</div>
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I will live today. </div>
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I will be gentle today with me, with others who don't know my sore momma's heart. I will lean against Rick, the gift God gave to me to walk out this journey for now...and be thankful. </div>
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I miss you sweet girl. I miss you.</div>
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sweet uncle Tim...playing for you<br />
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Yagabanuch toasts began this day<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">.</span><br />
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Rick and our kids, never knew their sister.<br />
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so many of your friends who miss you...…<br />
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so many came, I had forgotten all who did.<br />
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Your boss and dear friend, they honored your memory, an art room dedicated and scholarship created and maintained.<br />
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my dear friends who come up from Neward….here to honor you<br />
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a silly picture, but St Francis was dear to us in Le Spezia<br />
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my sister and Shari....my dear ones<br />
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family<br />
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My dear, dear son...so proud of him...living as well as he can, brave...loved.christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-12743743132465064472018-09-21T16:12:00.004-04:002018-09-21T16:12:41.024-04:00September 21, 2018<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It is almost 11 years since you died such a hard death. I am slipping into the season of many memories of last moments together, the Mediterranean cruises and where we were going to meet you as you and Chris backpacked...<br />
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It isn't something you can avoid-but begins to feel much like taking a step out on the rope like a trapeze artist does, only I haven't had any training.<br />
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You would think after almost 11 years, it would begin to have some sense of order and map, but unfortunately, it doesn't. <br />
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The heart has it's own way...and to listen to your heart means, you don't naturally know where you are going each moment of the September days-and many other ones that bring sweet memories--birthdays, holidays, etc.<br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> Of course there are the wonderful toasts made by those who have words to share...often bringing tears.</span><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">but me...her mom....well...I see everyone around me missing you and know how much you are trying to walk and encourage...and there is this very quiet place of aloneness...like when you were in my womb...a closeness of the 2 of us, you moving and only me knowing. I know you were married, had a wonderful love with your dear husband...but a mom has a tender place of knowing you from the moment you first moved...the light feeling making your presence known.</span><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">This picture kinda reminds me of you--you have no idea, or maybe you do---how often I see a woman who resembles you--the was she walks, sits like this picture shows...and I remember....</span><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">the sand covers so much as the wind blows...removing the path from last year...searching for clues of how to navigate this again.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">the quietness in my heart---trying to peer into heaven, to hear your voice, to get a clue you are fully alive....more alive than you ever were...these are thoughts often in my mind....</span><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></div>
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a message--washing up on the shore of my heart...I get them sometimes in a dream or someone writes to me--just got one from a woman who also almost died in Riamaggiore when she was there in 2010, as she was also caught by a large wave and tossed around and around till she thought she was gone too....she told me she this, "<span style="-ms-user-select: text; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 1); display: inline; float: none; font-family: Helvetica Neue,Segoe UI,Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: pre-wrap; word-spacing: 0px;">I watched many scenes from my life flash before my eyes. It sounds scary, but it wasn't. I saw the faces of all the people I love most and felt all the love and fulfillment in the world. There were no feelings of fear or anger or regret or anything like that. It was peaceful and calm.<br /><br />How would she ever know that I wonder this all the time...what were you thinking as you were dying....</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">and so we go on...looks large and long- this journey</span><br />
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I know this is weird, but we bought those new shoes for you for your hiking...and they were lost at sea...where did they ever end up...I just wonder.<br />
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and there are times I can feel your breath...and our noses touching...near, laughing, close....<br />
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I can see you small on our beach...Sarah's beach....<br />
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I catch you sometimes..and turn and you are not there....<br />
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My heart feels like a suitcase I keep packed and closed mostly...so I can live...but sometimes it all fall out and it is like this in September...and then I must pack it all again...<br />
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and journey on...<br />
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I write some, but words don't seems to form in me as often the are of this world.<br />
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and I point to heaven...to my hope...<br />
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I send you messages every chance I can...if someone I know might be dying...I tell them to tell you hello...I wonder if that actually works and smile...<br />
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I ache. my arms are empty...I can feel you held close to me...against my body...and miss you.<br />
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you brought so much joy...to so many....thank you for your presence to this life, to this earth...<br />
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I am blessed with the greatest gift...my dear husband, who misses you so...and can't wait to meet you again. He is so sad too.<br />
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full moons...are the Father showing me He is near...<br />
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I still have your last flipflops..and wear them...and feel you. It works.<br />
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but sometimes, like this sacred time, I am just flat out. I am weary of this journey. I ache...<br />
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I will just be still and keep breathing. I know many who also walk this road of loss. We touch hands and look at one another and smile. it is an encouragement to me. I recently got to meet Betty...who lost her daughter Debbie. Betty is 95 and she has great faith. I hugged her and told her if she gets to heaven before me to tell Sarah I love her. We held each other so close...I don't have the picture right now, but I surely love her.<br />
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so, here we go, sacred steps. a time with your friends and my sister and your dad's sister...to watch a video about your after HS graduation thoughts--a hysterical video...but tender moments together for sure...It will be good, but not stop the ache. Nothing does. It just is grief.<br />
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<br />christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-32836557451831859892018-09-17T06:20:00.001-04:002018-09-17T06:20:19.581-04:00Soon to be 11 years my sweet Sarah C. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Early morning. Crickets and other early morning noises. My days are dwindling her till we move. I just sit and am still .<br />
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Your death anniversary is coming soon on the 27th. My last day I saw you in person is soon... This week..<br />
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Memories swirl all about me trying to pull me in I resist going to far and too often, they can take me in and trip me up and I lose my balance in living. Loss and grief are not always friendly in their visits. The come softly and bring a smile and a tear... Sometimes great laughter and many tears, but they feel good .. Then comes a place you don't want to go. It's a slippery place. The memories you still find are like broken shards of glass threatening to open healed scars, still so tender... No one mentions them, it is just your heart that slips off the path and finds places that show you the evidence of your death. Then , you fight to swim away you don't have enough air, you panic.. It is a horrifying place you don't want to go... And yet, it comes again .. Just like an unwanted wave.<br />
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So today, I am here at a another year of marking soon. 11.<br />
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People have been asking how I am... So kind of them to remember and ask. I feel seen and loved. They too have their places it is difficult to walk. I see them too. I see their sorrow when our eyes meet and in the silent hug.<br />
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I woke the other morning from a dream, a very natural dream... We were ordering Chinese and I heard you tell me, "mom, I'll have sweet and sour pork" and I said, "of course you will , that's all you ever get" . .. And we laughed... Natural... Real .. A moment you were here .. A kiss to your sore momma's heart. Just for a second I felt like it never happened .. A gift, a visit ...<br />
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So, I may of may not write again ... This year, but this journey is long .<br />
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I met finally a woman who wrote to me right after the article was on the Plain Dealer Her name is Betty, she lost her 52 year old daughter to cancer. She is 95. She is a strong believer. I was so blessed to finally put my arms around her and hold her close. I felt you and Debbie were watching and glad. You both worry about your mommas.<br />
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I'm meeting with some of your friends and your Aunt Marty this Friday to watch your high school graduation video .. It is hilarious. We will laugh and tell "Sarah stories". Then we will go on our way and try to smile and live.<br />
Long journey ..<br />
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Enough for today <br />
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<br />christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-51965322158809072482018-04-19T07:12:00.000-04:002018-04-19T07:33:43.697-04:00Sacred groundI feel like I am walking in a luminal space this these hours. We are with our friends Karen and Joe, remembering our kids, Joey and Sarah.<br />
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Tender steps, a 10 year anniversary is before them and just recently in our rear-view mirror. How? How did we make it this far? Some moments it feels as though it was yesterday, we strain to hear their voices. And yet... It is. So very missed, these 2, "full of life", kids with so much poured into them.<br />
I'm quiet in my heart, holding each beat as we remember... Holds hands and share joy filled memories. Sacred space.<br />
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christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-40599369995080001402017-09-28T10:19:00.000-04:002017-09-28T10:19:08.246-04:00the day after hangoverthis morning, the word-hangover...came to me...a grief hangover...<br />
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the first sip and drink of memories is so good...makes you smile...you remember and then you have another and another....<br />
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pretty soon, memories become harder...full of the truth of the fullness of your death...and then the sorrow sets in...your heart begins to ache....<br />
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deeply.<br />
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you see it in other's eyes you are with...the sorrow if full in them too...<br />
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<i>so...today...a tender day of repacking for the journey. What do you do with a hangover...you take care of yourself...drink alot of water, get a massage...write...rest.</i></div>
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<i>and keep walking on. It is a road that is long. I see many others on this same journey. I call to them, they wave...I see. i embrace today. the gift of life. I hope in heaven...and all that it holds. </i></div>
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<i>thankful. what a good day it was, remembering you, being with the ones I love...flowers, toasts, wine, cards...tears...many tears. Held.</i></div>
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<i>not alone.</i></div>
christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-78021633706900853782017-09-27T06:55:00.000-04:002017-09-27T06:55:14.143-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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10 years....in rememberance of you.<br />
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my fellow travelers...through it all...<br />
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another one who misses you so....<br />
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Finally found....10 years it was right in my bathroom in the Bath and Body Works container...found...and worn....and loved.<br />
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So, a year later, marking 10 years. Some of the pictures marking another year you are gone away. I feel a bit more like you have been gone a very, very long time. <br />
<br />
<i>I found myself in my studio yesterday, the day before your death, looking around at all the art we have created for our fall show and thought...you have never seen all this, yet I sense you have. I wish I could hear you say something like, "Wow mom, didn't know you had all this in you." ...in your really amazed voice...of course, holding a big glass of Merlot, getting ready to toast it all.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>You were an amazing part of my life. You grew into fullness and vigor...and such passion---unleashed. Many who knew you were drawn to that fullness of life. Me too---I was amazed at the beauty you had become. I remember your battles when you were young...so many...yet, you pressed in and on, you did your work. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>So, here we are, a year later...still missing you, still here. Someday, we will be gone too.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>my heart aches...a fierce ache...a deep place that water doesn't seem to reach quite yet, so soften. I feel like part of me left for sure when you did. Something I will never recover in this life. It is a mom's part...left a hole...a place never filled or fixed. a limp.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>many have continued to journey this road near me...this year has been full of life. many new memories made. yet, your voice is silent...even if we often say what we thing you would say...it is still in our false "Sarah's" voice...and we laugh...and then each of us is quiet in that place and we miss you. </i><br />
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<i>The day is beginning to get light out...coffee feels warm in my belly. Candles and music and the smell of roses scent the air. The day will begin...we will do our best to toast you...try not to slide into the place of death memories that still haunt us uninvited. That is not a place to be. To live...so, again...I say, I love you my sweet girl, my sarah c. my pumpkin noodle. you were the best...can't wait to see you again. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>your mom....</i><br />
<i>and your dad who misses you so too. </i><br />
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<br />christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-80639219029020293902017-05-16T08:58:00.001-04:002017-05-25T22:06:04.399-04:00New paths <p dir="ltr">We are 2 weeks now since dad's passing. He made it 2 weeks after his last dialysis. We were blessed to journey these last 6 months near him. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The funeral had his fingerprints all over it. His singing. He ended with a song called Celebrate Me Home. along with the simple words he wrote to all of us. He "Hopes to see us again someday... Depending on what you believe". <br>
He lived well. He loved well. He was one of a kind. We will never forget. </p>
<p dir="ltr">So now to find our path again. The waterplant destroyed the path I've known most of my life. It all seems to be relevant to now. Searching... Both Rick and I... For next steps. Slowly we listen. Linger. Quiet. Receiving. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Thankful. </p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwPxcqKehjBF6RwSsW7phCy6neFfsfHV5gJnlye5BlconfsJN1amLfskBIoBvhoiRqKAqF7FjD7-h8id1PpXo-mow4_4ZGTiV3zzKG1az5AsbcPeSuPkOOcuoCHyc7xIJCLWDi/s1600/20170515_133849.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwPxcqKehjBF6RwSsW7phCy6neFfsfHV5gJnlye5BlconfsJN1amLfskBIoBvhoiRqKAqF7FjD7-h8id1PpXo-mow4_4ZGTiV3zzKG1az5AsbcPeSuPkOOcuoCHyc7xIJCLWDi/s640/20170515_133849.jpg"> </a> </div>christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-87630491721452214092017-05-04T13:01:00.001-04:002017-05-04T13:01:29.644-04:00Our sweet dad<p dir="ltr">Rick's dad's last dialysis today. He has decided to stop. We have been here over the last 5 months many days.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Now...a new journey to heaven begins today. What a great 2nd dad he has been for me. I love him so. </p>
<p dir="ltr">He told me he will look for Sarah and tell her I love her. She will be watching for him too. I sense it. She loves him too.</p>
<p dir="ltr">These releasing times are so sacred. I am very thankful to walk with Rick. What a blessing. So many words, yet no words.</p>
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don't try to answer the question ahead of time---"what do you want to do on the 27th?" when asked because I don't know..and even if i think i know, i will probably do something else that day...as i am trying just to get through this day.<br />
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i have learned that i want to be in the Cinque Terre during this time, every time...not here. i feel lost in this land when it didn't happen here...it happened there and here it feels like i am a stranger...without any map or place to go that feels like it honors you...holds you...not that others don't deeply miss you and grieve so much and life is so changed for them too.<br />
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since i have been there, the images of that place swirl all the time...the air, the water, the town of manarola, riomaggoire, vernassa, all of them...the people, the food, the smells...the walkway, the stairs up and the stairs down...and the garden and the statue, the church, the compass...the steps we sat on, the playground, the flowers and the bushes, the bench, the view...the flag...the harbor...the statue of that beautiful woman holding the grapes...so naked in her beauty...and her story. <br />
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the plaque, the flowers, the bottle with sand and treasures from our beach...the vase that holds your picture...and then the memories of sitting below before the ceremony...hearing horns playing....wondering what and where that music was coming from.............<br />
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so, here seems so foreign...so distant...far from the heart land...<br />
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so glad we got to go back...Rick with me...my sister and aunt...so dear and near every step...every day...and they have their own grief...their own journeys they take every year...each season...seeing it all over their faces too.<br />
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grief...<br />
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sorrow.<br />
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loss.<br />
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just today.<br />
today...i will keep breathing, walking slowly, eating well, sleep well, hydrate...have hope in heaven.<br />
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this year, Harry is gone...he was so close to me after you died...and now he is gone too...<br />
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never get better at doing this. never were supposed to.<br />
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heaven. so glad...can feel it....sense it, love to lean into the soft, thin veil...feel and sense...<br />
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how to end this...well it is just today...will stop today. missing...christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-6151836369212785822016-09-17T10:09:00.000-04:002016-09-17T10:09:44.111-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Now this is a big heart rock.....</div>
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Sarah C...you never do anything small...never...hahahaha</div>
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You always walked with a firmness, even little with an authority that commanded attention. You filled a room--with beauty and presence. I have silently asked the Father for a touch from you in these very tender days of your death month...a touch to let me know...somehow...you are....you are fully alive...fully living in the kingdom...fully all you will ever be.</div>
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I miss you fiercely, your presence...your beauty, your fullness in all life.</div>
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Your dad and I were sitting on the beach last night watching this sunset...it is fall and the season is changing...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As we sat on the log...you can see it in the middle of this pic, I saw the top of this rock only. I am always on the hunt for heart rocks to give away. I could only see the top 2 inches of it. As we sat there, I wondered if it would be a heart rock or like so many others, not. </div>
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As we got up to leave after the sun had fully set, I walked over and brushed off the sand...and WOW!!! It was the biggest and best. I laughed right out loud...it was like...wow!!! Never have I seen or found a rock like that...hahahahahahahahaha...and knew somehow you sent it to us...to kiss us and encourage us...press on to us...and sending the love and hug...and kiss....</div>
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I am touched so very deeply Sarah....God....thank you...</div>
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from a sore momma's heart.</div>
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thankful today....</div>
<br />christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-83278565073693116562016-09-11T05:23:00.001-04:002016-09-11T22:00:21.496-04:002016~9 years almost<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>September 2016</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>the month of my loss is here again. I find myself up early-not sleeping well. I don't have these days often like I did 9 years ago. I forgot how to sleep during the days after you died.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>My mind is handicapped again and I am looking and searching for the things to help me navigate these days again. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I have tried to prepare myself again to walk carefully through these days that bring too many memories that are to difficult to handle again. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I just want to get on a plane and then a train and go--go to this place of pure beauty that you lost your dear young life. To smell the air, feel the breeze, see the waves that mounted and destroyed you...to try to understand how...</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I am so far away...so very far. There is no place to go that helps me right now, I find myself getting so restless. So much fragmented. No words. Many remember and come nearer and seem to sense this place and want to help. I am so sorry...I don't know what to say and how to help you when I can't help myself.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I miss you dear, dear Sarah. I can't even begin to tell you how much. You were just my joy...heaven seems too far for me today to hope for. I know it is to come...but seems so far...yet I will continue to hope.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I was laying in bed thinking this month I should wear a handicapped sign somehow--something that would warn others that I am more fragile, I can't trust my mind with things I say or do. I don't even want to think too much and surely the things I do and think have this coloring of this loss that is too big again...swirling in my heart and mind.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I want to do better, yet again it crashes over me--and seems to want to destroy me. I hang on...center my mind. Avoid the thoughts and memories that can take me right out. Seeing again...the horrors of it all. I can't live here, so try again to push them away, yet they slip in...like a blown head gasket...dripping all over me and my eyesight..then down over my heart...and leave this oily stain that only lots of tears take away. Tears that seem to have again built up and need release in the worst way...tears that heal yet hurt.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>my sweet girl...this blog holds so many memories...so many pictures..so much. I am thankful it is still here when the night hours betray me and I come in the dark again to find this page...a place to leave some of what is drowning me.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>tragedy...i see it on faces and know it. Rick and I went to see the movie Sully a few days ago--I cried through most of it. they lived. you did not. my memories revisited bring no new ending...just sorrow. I am careful. I don't know how many pictures this year I can post of you. I don't know what helps this time or what will lead me to that place I get lost. I hate that place of lostness. Unsafe. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Centered...Focused...Jesus...heaven...hope....held. Recalculate...recalculate...</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>loved. You were deeply loved and cherished. I wonder if my mind will bear me ever trying to write this story. It is so tragically beautiful with so many treasures that i hold so close to my heart...so many wonderful parts...just wish you were actually still alive to share and laugh with. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Sarah C...my dear girl...Just a touch through the veil this morning to you. I am actually right in the spot we held over and over again for the last time as I write this--the night we said goodbye....I think you just are letting me know that somehow...I do remember how we held and held..and said goodbye. over and over...like somehow we deeply knew. sweet one, sweet girl. beautiful woman...well loved. how i love you. how i miss you. </i></span><br />
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christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-91048547440924647142016-04-08T07:32:00.001-04:002016-04-08T07:32:54.297-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I wake today with sorrow in my heart. I will be meeting in a few hours with my oldest friend from my childhood whom I haven't seen in 45 years...she lived around the corner from me and we lost touch shortly after high school. We were best friends in grade school and after that, stayed friends but not that close then.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I moved away and lost touch with many friends after my divorce and then returned back home 16 years later....and didn't reconnect with many. Just life changed...but back here where I grew up. I have reconnected in the last few years with some friend, but never could find Annie....tried over and over.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>At my class reunion last year, I finally found a friend who knew where she was...but she told me this dear friend had lost a son in a shooting in California with drugs involved when he was fleeing the police--shot in a high speed chase 3 years ago...and she was not doing well.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>We connected via email...the posts were short....things like...I know you lost a son from me.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I know you lost your daughter from her.....big gaps and meaning in those short sentences.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>we haven't spoken yet...but we will meet today, both driving 45 minutes from home.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>my heart is sore. She is just celebrating the 3rd anniversary last week. I am not many years past that, but seems this morning as tender as then.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>What a life. What a journey...</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>i posted a painted I have done--it is copied from a much more famous one requested by my daugher in law--from Chris...his new wife...and it is release of grief...it somehow touches my heart today as I go....</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>may we both release more grief, while we lean, hold hands...touch lives.</i></span>christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-40232980446565076682015-09-29T12:17:00.001-04:002015-09-29T12:17:37.309-04:00maybe tomorrow will start better<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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how in the world does it ever make sense.</div>
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i got up, the alarm went off...i started the day like the other days, only it wasn't another day...it is today and today followed days of remembering...and i had to work for the first time in 8 years on the days after instead of the time to rest...and recover...and my heart hurt and my body ached..and i just decided the morning needed more bed time, time in my Father's arms to rest.</div>
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so i did...and i still haven't quite stood back up...and flying is definitely out of the picture today.</div>
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this journey is slow and steady...and carefully navigating the moments and listening to a sore heart...of sorrow...and missing.</div>
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i am better---what the hell does that mean? better.....</div>
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but i am more....</div>
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more able to walk....</div>
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i think....</div>
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my mind doesn't just default to crash and burn....</div>
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i know many walking along and know that they have probably slowed their steps to wait till i get my footing...as i wait for them when they loose theirs...</div>
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so today, gentle day...</div>
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soft air, soft thoughts.</div>
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put things away...back to a new place...let life slowly slip back in. my full life i am trying hard to live well...with hope.</div>
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a hope that has nothing to do with this world...a hope of an eternal kingdom to come---with a fullness and LIFE that is not to be seen in my failing eyes, but i strain to peer through the thin veil...and see...because i have had touches from that land, my Father...</div>
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sometimes even think my girl.</div>
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so, another day...soft footsteps. gentle...cared for...</div>
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loved...</div>
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known.</div>
<br />christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-39275241934662336432015-09-28T17:17:00.001-04:002015-09-28T17:17:16.942-04:00day after...pack it away...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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so, it is the day after.... <br />
for days and weeks, memories come and are shared...then the day before and the day of....the celebration of your life begins...<br />
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now, the day after...<br />
to pack it away-in order to live. and it never fits the way it was before...nothing ever goes back in the way it came out. i have changed, somethings are different in me, so not sure how to repack it in order to have it fit. <br />
i don't think i ever will get this, and that is ok today. unless you have lost great, you don't know about this yet. the repacking. the careful, picking up tenderest things and carefully folding them back into a shape...to put away.<br />
in order to live.<br />
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the sun sets. another year...<br />
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so many things to tuck away to live. to breathe, to keep on....<br />
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tender memories...<br />
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and then...a soft touch of wine to a sore heart. again. grateful. sad. tired. worn.<br />
right now, i just hate this place.<br />
i still don't get a vote.<br />
i know i will do better...soon....<br />
just today, it is quiet.<br />
the day has passed. <br />
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that's all for now.<br />
<br />christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-91250647170745228592015-09-27T06:45:00.001-04:002015-09-27T06:45:44.530-04:008 x 12 =96<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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96 full moons since you died.<br />
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and another super moon<br />
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beautiful, bright, wakes you up from sound sleep moon....creeps across your face and lets you know it is there. shines on your soul and almost quietly warms you--not like the sun, just like the moon. slowly slips away, room gets darker...and then it is gone.<br />
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sometimes I feel your presence Sarah. slips in quietly, warms my heart, then slips away.<br />
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hard to have so many moons gone by. hard to have momentos to remember you instead of you.<br />
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you-so full of light, laughter...made a room come alive the minute you walked in. you never took no for an answer there--always full, always present.<br />
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sometimes i laugh right out loud when i remember times that bring tears to my eyes.<br />
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the thing i hate about today--you being gone--in such a quick and tragic way-is that i still ponder how did you process it happening, what were your thoughts...i had the privilege, as did others...to listen to you--read your thoughts...know you and this is one time we are all left not knowing...not knowing your heart at the last moments of your precious life.<br />
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not a good and safe place for me to stay, the edge of this place is sharp...it draws me in....more on this day...my muscles aren't as strong to pull away...i feel drawn to come nearer again...to step closer, to listen...and yet it is as quiet as ever....no words, none.<br />
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i am a mom still, sometimes i have written that that is really over...what an ass...i am a mom...it is in me. i may be your "past tense mom" in a way that we don't actively do this in life now...but am always your mom...best job ever....<br />
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but i am finding out that i still am a mom....and love being a mom when i am a mom...now that can make you a bit crazy, but it is what it is....i love my new kids, who aren't so new anymore...but more and more mine. i share them with this woman who is gone--in heaven, and somehow, she is sharing my sarah with me...can't wait till she and i talk about this journey....<br />
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i have learned alot in all this 96 full moons...<br />
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i think i am closer to writing my book about all this---and hope that people let me write the way i do--non-gramatical and from my heart. i hope i remember all the things, but this blog has many of them...it is such a beautiful and tragic story...my oh my.<br />
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i also have begun a new journey, saw that my friends-some on this childless journey with me, are also starting new paths. that gives me great hope. i began to do the Ignatius Spritual Exercises this week. I sense it is right on time for me. my soul feels stirred in a place of wonder.<br />
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so, it is early today, just 6:30 a.m. Rick and Harry are still sleeping. The candles are lit...the sacred space to remember is on the porch with flowers from Rick and Scott and Laura and kids....<br />
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it is again, a very sacred day.</div>
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she never knew what was about to happen...she had no idea. no fear...so precious, my girl.</div>
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help me to keep on...help Chris, who misses her so, yet strains like me to embrace and live fully...help all of us-so many who loved her so well. </div>
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thank you God for these days we had her.</div>
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the days i had her.</div>
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i hate to miss her, it aches so.</div>
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simple table with simple things, ashes, a seagull, candles, the small statue of the little girl I got in switzerland so long ago...her scarves she loved and wore so well...red roses and calla lilies, her green empty flower pot boots--empty on purpose....a jar of shells and broken things...reminding me of her brokenness...and a willow tree woman remembering.....simple, yet so meaningful...</div>
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my finger tips still touch these separate keys, intentionally trying to draw from my heart, my thoughts and still fumble along...missing keys, missing the right letter...sometimes i find the key immediately, sometimes i have to delete, or pause...so it is life....just fumbling along...trying and retrying and do overs...and just then hit publish.</div>
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it is the best i can do today. </div>
christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8662343.post-20864380097026851602015-09-26T11:49:00.000-04:002015-09-26T11:49:11.994-04:00Almost 8<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Almost 8....</div>
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September 26, 2015</div>
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7 years and 264 days since you took your very last breath.</div>
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Tomorrow we walk across the 8th year threshold of years you have been gone. Supposed to be a super moon....that is just plain something to me....</div>
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I know now that we will never miss you less, never learn to walk without a limp...and somehow that is all ok. I am just a mom who has learned to move along towards heaven in a way that may never make sense to me or anyone who is watching. I have been blessed, by my Father in Heaven, to send a companion to journey with--my husband Rick...who finds himself grieving this year for a daughter he only met for 10 minutes and now knows so many stories, but not her. God...I look forward to the day the 2 of them meet and get to hold on to one another for the first time--that is if it works out that way that I get to see that.</div>
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I have been thinking all morning about this is the last day she ever had of 24 full hours and that a day given to us is such a gift. We take that so much for granted. Wow...never thought of it before that way. I know she and Chris had a great day today--their last full day together. He fights to live well...please God continue to help him....to live. To embrace the gifts in his journey now too.</div>
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So, Rick just brought Red Roses and Calla Lilys, which she loved, sunflowers for me, which I love...Scott and Laura and kids just sent a bouquet to us too--and a toast. The flower guy came down Bob's hill, our neighbor, and I am pretty sure he fell coming down to deliver them--had a big bump on his forehead and a big scrape on his face. So, he made it and we sent him back up the stairs...</div>
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<b><i>So today, my sweet Sarah C...</i></b>..</div>
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I miss you so. I miss all the memories we didn't get to make...the kids you never had...not getting to watch you be a mom...but I did get to witness more than some and less than others....so each of us who grieve...I have learned, we never get it all...just what we get.</div>
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So, I am thankful...for all I got. Thankful to know you, love you...watch you become who you got to become...see you touch others in your life. see you love and encourage and kick people in their butts to live fuller. I got to see you embrace your healing in your soul. I am proud of you--more and more and surely look forward to seeing you again someday....</div>
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my heart aches. Just does. it is the way of the road of this loss. It sucks most of the time...and is a fight to not slip into that and be in despair...but live in hope of heaven to come.</div>
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So, that is all my heart has to say right now...just am glad/sad...missing you so.</div>
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<br />christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16180215425135094321noreply@blogger.com1