Incoherently Yours

My mind won’t go to sleep. Time to jot a thought or two. I’m 25. I think I’m good with it. Sheldon threw me an amazing surprise dinner party at my favorite restaurant, Piccolo Italia, in Barrhead. He reserved the whole place (it’s the cutest place, only 28 people fit) and we had a feast of bread dipped in balsamic vinegar and olive oil, bruschetta, salad, risotto, quail, gelato, and tiramisu! My sister came to visit Kadon and I (and a few other people, I guess… maybe…) for the weekend. I am so happy I got to share my surprise with her. I think she should move back here. Snow for 6+ months of the year, mud and mosquitoes for the other couple months – c’mon! It’s great here! Terry, Larissa, and Judah spent the week with us. I am so grateful to have friends who have grown with us. From college kids, to married couples, to couples with kids… we have accepted and embraced each other’s chaos and become closer through it all! We also happened to have Lily this week, so it was fun...

I remember when my doctor prescribed me anti-depressants and told me, “You are just too sad.” I remember thinking he was absolutely crazy. My daughter had died six weeks ago. I told him I didn’t want to be happy. He told me everyone wants to be happy. I love my doctor. He is an amazing man and practitioner. But I did not want to be happy. I did not want to find my way through losing Rory. I wanted the world to end, I wanted everything to stop. The loss of a child is too terrible to endure, too horrible of a reality to accept. I didn’t want to grow stronger, I didn’t want to fight. I wanted the universe explode, agreeing the loss of Rory to be impossible and send us all to the place we could be together with no more tears, no more sadness, and no more loss. But it didn’t. I had to rummage through the hospital’s closet to find an outfit for Rory to be buried in. I had to walk out of the hospital, clutching a ragged old stuffed cow, climb into a vehicle, and go home without my litt...

New Years is such a cliché for new beginnings and starting over and we all seem to think it has some sort of magical quality for filling up our motivation tanks. I was planning on hitching my band wagon on to the New Years Resolution train and riding the wave of “I can do this!” … However, I just sent off my sister, her hubby, and kids this morning, and although I absolutely loved having them with us, we’ve all had awful colds for the last couple days. So, instead of today starting with a work-out and a shake, and vacuuming or putting away laundry, or writing or attacking my office with file folders and a little thing called organization – I have spent the day on the couch, alternately nursing my sleepy/teething?/fighting a cold? Baby and putting him in his swing, watching episode after episode of Glee whilst chugging back Cream soda and eating half a box of cookies. And blowing my nose. A lot. So, my New Years plans will have a late start, because right now I’m too busy chec...

            I’ve been feeling like I’m caught in a whirlwind. I don’t really know where December went. Well. I do. But man, it went fast. December began with all the gallbladder/dying nonsense. I ended up at the hospital in Denver , thought I was getting better, and then ended up in the hospital in Barrhead for six days. A gallbladder attack resulted in a stone getting stuck and me ending up with pancreatitis, which meant I had to go to the Royal Alexander hospital in an ambulance (seriously, I should almost have my name engraved on one at this point.) to get some thing shoved down my throat and remove the stone so that my lipid level (which was over 42,000 – a normal lipid level is under 300. Ha. Wow.) would go down. I don’t really remember much of that day – yay drugs! After a couple of days of morphine and letting my organs recover, my skin and eyes decided yellow was not the most flattering color, and I was feeling much better. I had emergency su...

I love days like today. Days when I just feel happy and content. When I feel strong and self-assured and ready to do anything. Days when my love for my family swells in my heart. When I see Sheldon working outside through the window and hold Kadon up so they can see each other. Days when Grandpa comes inside and makes a beeline for his grandson. I love when gloomy days don’t make for a gloomy outlook on life. When fires crackle and music plays in the background and the smell of coffee permeates the house. Days when clutter and unfinished projects don’t overwhelm me and make me want to hide in a corner. I like today. Today I feel happy and okay with being happy. Not every day is like this. Some days I am so happy it makes me sad. I’ve been terrified of giving off the impression that I’m over it. Of course I’m not over it. But I’ve found a new version of okay. I’ve been given a new source of happiness. The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the L...

Dearest Kadon, One month old. You, my little big boy, are one month old. You are growing little mister. You are thriving. 6 lbs 1 ¾ oz. You’ve left your birth weight of 5 lb in the dust. You’ve even outgrown one of your sleepers. And you are wearing some 0-3 month old stuff. And you (kinda) fit into a pair of JEANS. You are so cute I could just eat you up. You’ve had a busy month. After an 18 day stay in the NICU you got to spend lots of time with your Auntie Leanne and your cousins Parker and Cameron. They would all take turns holding you and snuggling you and covering you with kisses. Those snuggles will have to last until we see them again in November. You attended your big sister’s birthday party. What a bittersweet day that was. I didn’t want it to be a sad, boohooing day, but a day celebrating that your big sister was here – even if it was only for a little while. I love having you at home. Taking you home was amazing. Walking out of the hospital, holding on to...

My Dearest Rory,                 Happy Birthday, my little Heaven Dweller. Somehow it has been a whole year since you came careening into our lives. What a crazy, happy day. You brought so much joy and love with you.                 We miss you, Rory. We think of you every day. There have been times – many, many times – when your Daddy and I didn’t know how we were going to make it through another minute without you. Losing you is the hardest thing we have even done, or will ever do. Losing you isn’t something that happened almost a year ago. It happens every day. Every time we see a little girl. Every time we see something cute and girlie and pink. Every time we think of you, we wonder what it would be like to have you with us. Our sense of loss never leaves. You are precious, baby girl, and we treasure our memories of you. ...