2 months

Mark was a happy little guy at 2 months...he smiled a lot!

Although I have most of his toddler clothes, I gave away

almost all of his baby clothes. Now I wish that I had them.

Seeing those little alligators on his onesie brings back such

memories. After three girls, dressing a little boy was so different

and so much fun...I remember being excited about each little car, truck

or bug shirt that he wore. Blue was my new favorite color!

One month

These pictures were taken when Mark was one month old...in August.

He died in August, two years later. I hate August.

We may have done a few things differently had we known that we had such a short time left with him...one thing we couldn't have done is love him any more than we already did.

the beginning...

So begins the beautiful life of Mark Allen Zurovec...July 2006.

We loved you before we even met you. And then, there you were...

healthy and perfect in every way.

The splash of blue in our sea of pink.

Our son.

This picture sits on my nightstand. I say "goodnight"...at the same time..."goodbye".

torn...

I can't believe how fast Maegan is growing...5 months already. Incredible.

Part of me wants to freeze time so that I won't lose a second of this

baby sweetness. The other part of me wishes the days would pass quickly and

take me to Mark as soon as possible. Oh how I long for Heaven!

I am torn between what will be and what is.

And, on the many days that I just don't think that I can make it,

I try to trust in God's plan for leaving me here...

in grief...

in tears...

in disbelief...

in brokenness.

but also with...

the assurance of Heaven and the love of a husband and

four girls that make each day worth living.

8 is great!

Our Madison Grace...2nd born, tender-hearted, lover of snowglobes, rocks and


anything else that she can collect, sandy-brown haired daughter whose eyes


almost disappear when she smiles...turned 8 years old yesterday.







We had her party at the local amusement park...

Madison had a great time!

(I think her daddy did too!)

more cute pics

April 2008 - 21 months old

I have posted this picture before...but it is one of my favorites.

Mark and his friend Emily, from church.

Her mother and I had such plans for these two!

cute pics

April 2007

9 months old

Finding Mark in Wal-Mart

Since Mark's death, there hasn't been a trip to Wal-Mart that hasn't been especially painful. There, I am barraged by reminders of him...things that he had, clothes that I would be buying him, toys that I would be buying for him, little boys that look like him, ALL little boys, size 5 diapers, American cheese and blue and green pacifiers.


Even though I am not fond of visiting this "mega mart" of memories and torture...the shopping must be done. For months after Mark died, I would try and go by myself...knowing that I would end up walking through the aisles while sobbing uncontrollably. It has gotten better over time and with my girls with me, I truly try and hold it together.



Which brings me to my trip to Wal-Mart yesterday afternoon. It started out innocently enough. I had Macy and baby Maegan with me and everything started out so well. We were breezing through the store, checking things off of the list without the normal heaviness that I usually feel in my chest. The bliss was cut short when I remembered that I needed to visit the children's/baby department to pick up a couple of things for Maegan. By this time, both of the girls were asleep and I planned on getting what I needed and moving on.



Then...I heard it. More specifically...I heard him. Mark! It was him! I heard him crying...I couldn't see him, but I heard him trying to tell his mama what he wanted...it was him! Instantly, my brain played the funny little trick that it does so often in its grief and told me that it had to be Mark...God had sent him back and he was with some stranger on the next aisle. My throat closed up, my heart almost exploded and then, I froze. I couldn't move. I envisioned myself running to him, scooping him up...squeezing him...



Then, almost as instantly as it came...the fantasy was gone. Reality was ready and waiting to slap me in the face again. There, in the children's department of Wal-Mart...I had to say goodbye to my son all over again. Standing, crying, and overcome with grief with nothing to do but listen to a little boy that sounded JUST like Mark, cry to his mama. At one point, I wanted to find him and ask his mother if I could take him home. "You know, if you are frustrated and don't want him...I'll take him!" Really...I almost did. I probably would have been slapped by the mother...but I wasn't thinking about that then. All I wanted was my Mark back. All I wanted was to die at that very moment.



When I was finally able to compose myself and move on...my feet moved slowly. My mind raced and my heart pounded. In the remainder of my shopping excursion, I heard someone calling for "Mark!", I had to visit the baby food aisle and look at the gerber graduate snacks that Mark liked to eat, I had to look at a box of Huggies size 5 diapers and I had to buy cheese that sat next to the American slices. (sigh) To top it all off, we were there to buy a big bouncy ball for Macy and do you know where they were located? Right next to the full body swimsuits that have built in floatation!



I have beat myself up time and time again for not having Mark in one of those. Would it have helped? I don't know. We had one years ago for one of our girls and it tipped them over forward in the water and so we stopped using it. Since then, I never had the desire to use another one. But, in Mark's case...it might have saved him since he had taken off his life jacket just a few minutes before he drown. I really don't know and I certainly try not to think about it...but there again is the torture. The thoughts that I can't stop from coming and the conclusions that I can't help but coming to.



I wish I still had Mark wrestling with the seat belt of the cart...trying to climb out. I wish I still was able to buy him a little lunchable to eat so that I could shop. I wish that I was buying him a new pair of the cutest little boy sandals and a t-shirt with a dinosaur on it. Mostly, I wish that I was giving my Marco-Polo loads of kisses and hugs and tickles that he liked while he sat in the cart...face to face with me...his mama.

Reminders

It seems that aside from all of the "normal" days,

holidays and birthdays are the hardest

in this journey of grief.

A special day comes and taunts me...reminding me

of Mark - that he isn't with us to celebrate.

At best it is an all-consuming ache that won't go away, although

focusing on the girls and attempting to live with joy

for their sakes is helpful.

This Ressurection Sunday was a reminder of many things...

a reminder of Mark on Easter morning 2 years ago...

(I still have his plastic Easter bucket and don't ever plan on

getting rid of it)

remembering his last egg hunt here with us...

(at Grandma and Grandpa's)

(at Nana and Papa's)

but most importantly...

Ressurection Sunday reminds me that no matter

how difficult it is living here without him,

I can have peace in knowing

that because Jesus came to earth,

lived, died and rose from the grave...

I will be with Mark again.

Thank you Jesus!