Newspapers

When Jake was little, his Grandma started a scrapbook for him. It was filled with all of his school pictures, ribbons and newspaper clippings. I can go through that scrapbook and tell you every time he made the honor roll, every score or placing he had in track and tennis, and every time he had a perfect attendance semester. It is a scrapbook that reflects who he is, where he started and how far he has come. The newspaper clippings have since yellowed, but the words are a forever reminder of how he has become the person he is. I wish I had newspaper clippings for the girls.

My grandpa's obituary was in the newspaper yesterday and at the bottom it read that he was preceded in death by his great-granddaughters, Sydney and Carynne. It made me so sad to know that the only time my girls' names will be in the paper is when they're in the obituary section. I don't get to record track times and dance recitals and honor rolls. I get to be reminded that they preceded our entire families in death. I get to be reminded that all of my hopes and dreams for them were cut so very short.

Our therapist has been talking to us a lot about re-traumatizing ourselves by being in emotionally difficult situations. He suggested we not go to the funeral tomorrow. But, the re-traumatizing events are not nearly as difficult as the reminders that sneak up on me and take over when I least expect them. I didn't know that reading their names in that obituary would be as difficult as it was. I didn't know that I would sit at my desk and silently cry. I didn't know how fresh my pain would be again.

A confession and a find

I have a horrible confession to make...after the girls passed away I took every medical record, every bill, every piece of paper relating to the last month of their lives and threw it in a box. It was so disorganized and clutter that I just left everything there, trying not to directly look at it, until one day last week. It was time to do taxes and I needed all of those medical bills, so I went through everything. Some finds were good, some were bad.

Like the piece of paper that I had written on when Dr. W. called to say they did find an abnormality on Carynne's 5th chromosome. He didn't go over any of the information or a diagnosis on the phone, he just told me that they had found something abnormal, and I wrote everything he said down so that I could start looking into it. A few days later we got the diagnosis. That piece of paper was hard to come across.

I also came across the bill from the funeral home. If the government had any compassion, they would allow you to write that off your taxes (note: I am not bashing the government, just saying I wish it could be written off). Oh well.

Mixed in this box of depression were a few nuggets of light. I found an envelope that had inadvertently landed in the box. It was 5 1/2 months older than the rest of the contents. It was an envelope I had used to track contractions one night while I was pregnant. Finding that envelope made me smile. It wasn't the night I went into labor, but I still remember what it was from. We had a meeting with our running club at the Aristocrat. I had been having contractions the whole night so I pulled out the first thing in my purse (an old envelope) and started tracking at the restaurant. They were about 5-7 minutes apart, but I wasn't alarmed because I was used to them. In fact, I don't believe I went into labor for at least another week. Of course, try convincing a jumpy husband and a bunch of beer drinkers that there's no cause for concern...reminds me that we have such sweet friends.

Another good find in this box was a receipt from the Julian Center. The Julian Center is the local domestic abuse shelter. About a month after the girls passed away, we took all of their formula and diapers down there to donate. The receipt confirmed donation of over $500 worth of baby stuff. We had A LOT of formula and diapers. Finding that reminded me that we have to continue to try and be good people. Try and live better lives for our girls.

Sydster

Dear Sydney,

I was sitting down tonight to write you and I asked Daddy if he had anything he wanted to tell you. He wanted to tell you that he says hi, he loves you and he misses you.

Today was hard on me and your daddy. We were both pretty grumpy this evening so we went down to visit your trees. Normally visiting your trees really cheers us up and makes us happy, but tonight it was so cold and dark and we were so mad at the world that visiting your trees didn't bring us to a happy place. I just stood there, in the dark, staring up into the sky being mad. I just don't understand why this world works the way it does. I don't understand why we have to go visit your trees instead of holding you.

As we were heading home I found a joke in reserves. Apparently, it was pretty funny because Daddy let out a pretty good chuckle. I told him that if I had to guess, I would bet that your laugh matches your daddy's. Really joyful and full of spirit.

I wish I could hear that toddler laugh of yours instead of guessing what it would sound like. I wish I knew whether or not you had the same sense of humor as us. It makes me very sad to know that I only know the first 5 1/2 months of you. I wish that I had had more time with you and your sister. I wish that I could tell you, in person, everyday, how very much I love you.

Love,

Mommy

Lovely Carynne

Dear Carynne,

I've tried to write this post to you a few times today, and each time I've had to stop. I'm so scared of this anniversary. I don't know what to expect; I don't know how I will feel. Today my head just kept playing our last moments over and over and I wish instead that I would replay good moments. Happy moments.

This last year has been horrible without you. Everyday I miss you more and more. Some days it physically hurts that you aren't in my arms. Some days I want to scream in anger that you aren't with us anymore. Some days I just cry until I am out of tears.

I wish I could better understand why this happened to you and your sister; why this happened to our family. I wish I knew that you were ok. I wish you knew how much I love you. I wish you were here so that I could tell you that in person. It's not fair that I can't tell you. It's not fair that I have to write you a letter to tell you instead of showing you. It's just not fair that you're not here. You belong here, with me and daddy and Sydney.

There are nights that I sit crying, begging you to come back to me. Why can't you be with us? Why can't we hear your beautiful laugh? Why can't we see your sweet smile? Why do we have to resort to pictures and videos to be with you? I wish I had more answers.

Today, on this year anniversary of your death, I will try to remember good memories. I won't focus on my sadness. I will love you with everything that I have.

Love,

Mommy

Riley ice-skate-a-thon

Hello all it's Brook's friend Jess, I took a few pics of the group and Brook wanted me to share.

Brook and Jake. Brook took home my award for best balance.







Brook, Jake, and Sean. Jake and Sean tied for my award for best effort.







Jake, Sean, Brook, and I. We had lots of fun and it was awesome to support Riley.



Sonya and Brook. Blurry image is due to the photographer unstable on her skates ;)



Sonya and I. Sonya took home my award for best rookie skater. I took home my award for most falls! Jake received an honorable mention for multiple falls.

A little love

In honor of Valentine's Day, I thought I would take a little time to talk about me and Jake.

One statement we hear all the time (at least once a week) is "I don't know how you guys do it." And to that I usually say that I don't either. I can't explain why I am still here or how I am able to wake up every morning or how I am able function in a semi-normal way. All I know is that I am here and so is Jake and sometimes, even when we're alone on a raft in the middle of the ocean, we're still here together.

Trust me, we have our moments! There are days that we want nothing to do with each other. There are days when we get really mad at each other for really little, insignificant stuff. We will yell at each other, storm away in anger, slam doors and break down in tears of anger. We don't know why we act the way we do, it's just that sometimes we get all of these bottled-up emotions and there is nowhere else to throw them except at each other. If I could explain it, I would, but it's like they're just there and sometimes they make no sense at all.

Thankfully, we usually recognize what we're doing to each other, and when the dust settles, we come back to each other, seeking forgiveness, kind words, hugs and usually a trip to get ice cream or coffee to talk it out and make things better. Once we're back to good, we see that it is still just us, together, trying to survive with each other and hopefully get better with each other along the way.

So to Jake, I am so thankful that you are on this road with me, because I could not have walked this with anybody but you. You put me in the folds of your arms when it gets to be too much for me and you let me know I am safe and that we will get through this together. You predict a bad moment or a sad memory sneaking up on me and you put out that fire before it starts to burn out of control within me. You tell me what I need to hear, when I need to hear it, but most importantly you know when to say nothing at all and just let me have my moment. I can only hope that I have been as good a partner to you as you have been to me. I can only hope that we continue to survive together and that we never lose sight of what we are, what we have, what we've had and what we hope to be one day.

And one more note...a year ago today a wonderful woman came to take pictures of the girls. She lovingly gave of her time and resources just so that we could have some beautiful memories. I am so thankful for the images she has given to us. There is no way we would have known at the time that one short week later our girls would be gone.

A quick bit of peace

I was reading through an article today about a young man and his experience at West Point. It took me back.

About a month after the girls died, Jake, Megan and I drove out to the east coast where we met up with Patrick, who had been at a work conference in Baltimore. We spent the following days just driving along the east coast, going through D.C., Baltimore, NYC and further north to Niagara Falls. Along the way to Niagara, we stopped at West Point Academy and took a tour of the facilities. It was beautiful and awe-inspiring. Standing at a lookout at the top of the river, I finally felt peace. It was the first time I had felt that peace in a long time. It was brief, but it was there. And silly me, I had almost forgotten how wonderful it was. I'm lucky that memory came back to me so I figured I needed to get it out.

On a side note, Niagara was not very peaceful, in fact it was pretty noisy. Going back home, through Cleveland, was not peaceful either, but that is for another post.