Missing Mark

Still here

2011-11-06T22:00:00.003-06:00

Where to begin? I am still here. Trying to stay as busy as I possibly can...and these days, that isn't difficult. Working full time and trying to keep the house running smoothly allows me little time to wallow in my self-pity.

My mother passed away on July 16. She had been fighting breast cancer since 1997 and her death came more quickly than any of us expected. I cling to the hope that the second that she took her last breath here, that she was gazing into the face of her Lord and embracing Mark with joy unimaginable. Oh, the thought. How I wish I was there.

Her passing leaves holes in my heart much different than Mark's death did. I miss her dearly, but it is all so very different. In so many ways, I am able to cope in ways that I wouldn't have been able to had I not lost Mark. For that, I am thankful. Even if it is all that I can be thankful for. It is difficult to find anything to be thankful for from such losses.

Our baby girl...not such a baby anymore, has turned 2 years old. What a difficult birthday for me. Such a celebration that she has blessed our lives so tremendously in the time that she has been here. So bittersweet that we celebrated Mark's second birthday and then a month later...he was gone. Oh, how we all love her. How we all dote on her. How I wish Mark were here to be her big brother.

Our other girls are doing well. Maryanna is in the 6th grade...braces and all. I am so jealous of her beautiful teeth! I think that I will get braces next. :)
Madison, future Kindergarten teacher, is in 4th grade and Macy, our child who will climb on anything that stands still long enough, is in 1st grade. One of these days I will post pictures of them all. That is, as soon as I can get a good picture.

You may have noticed that I mostly blog when my days have been rough. I do have good days...I really do. There is laughter in the house and there is joy in my heart so much of the time. But, it really does exist along with the sorrow. The deepest kind of sorrow and pain. So, bear with me if I only account for my grief. It is why I started the blog...to help me through it all. Maybe I will come to share some of the happy memories. There were so many, but I hate it that they are memories.

The years since Mark has been gone have blurred together. How have 3 years come and gone? It really does seem like he was just here yesterday. Everything is defined as either, "before Mark died" or "after Mark died". That is our timeline and that is our reality. Life changed...never...ever...the same.

Happy Birthday son

2011-07-10T15:07:00.003-05:00

Dear Mark,

Happy Birthday sweetie pie! I don't seem to know what to say today...it still all seems so unreal that you aren't here with us. We are having a hard time focusing on the 2 short but wonderful years that you were here because your absence is overwhelming.

Your Nana will be there soon. She has fought and fought and it is finally time for her to go home. We aren't ready to let go of her either, but she has suffered enough. Call her name, run to her and wrap your arms around her when she gets there...

Until we get there...

Love you with all of my heart,

Mommy

How much faith?

2011-05-22T18:23:00.005-05:00

Dear Mark,

There isn't even an hour that goes by that I don't think of you. I get up and you are in my thoughts. I drive to work and I hear you in every song. I see you in each little boy and in every toy that you would have loved. I even cried for you when a dinosaur show came on TV the other day...I could just picture you sitting on the couch, loving every minute of it.

As long as I had tried to avoid it, I had to go through some of your things from the hospital. Stacks of papers and pictures that children had drawn for you. Your hospital bracelet. The locks of hair that the nurses cut and tied with blue ribbons for us to take home when they knew that you weren't going to come home with us. All of those things...they had to be moved. From the place they had been since you left.

Grief is like walking with one foot in normalcy and one foot in madness. Just one thought of the accident, or what it was like to hold you after you died; to think of your little body lying in the grave or to see your picture and feel my arms hurting because they want to hold you...it can take me over the line. Most of my daily energy is spent in trying to move on. Trying to live with purpose for your sisters and hanging on for the day when we all will be together again. It is a daily choice that I have to make and there are some days when it is just too hard.

Daddy and I have learned how to let so many things go. We are emotionally bombarded all day long in one way or another, but we try to just roll with it all the best that we can. However, lately, it has been difficult. Many of those we know and even many that we don't know have tried to make a case regarding God's healing, protection and will for our lives being dependent on our faith and what we as Christians give God "permission" to do.

We believe that if prayers and true faith in your healing could have saved you...it would have. There isn't a person walking the face of the earth that can tell me that our lack of faith kept you from staying here with us. I will never, ever believe it. But, they are trying to tell me that. Telling me that faith isn't believing what God can do, but what God will do. How can that be? How does that apply to us? To you? We believed with everything in us that God would heal you...we never believed any differently until you died. Healers came to lay hands on you...people came and spoke in tongues over you and there were even strangers that came to find us to tell us that God had told them that you were going to get up out of that hospital bed...fully healed.

We have heard that God will protect us and our family if we just ask it of Him. The truth is, I prayed for God's protection over you and your sisters all of the time. It didn't keep God from taking you. Does that mean that my prayers weren't heard? Was my faith too small? How can you quantify how much faith it takes to "manipulate" God into doing what you want done? How many people have to pray with real faith in order for God to decide to heal someone? How many times do you have to pray for protection until God decides to keep you and your family from harm? It doesn't make any sense. It isn't even Biblical. We can't take the verses from the Bible that show healing and blessings and forget the ones that don't. All of Jesus' martyred disciples might agree with me. God didn't protect them from a horrible and painful death.

I encourage anyone that feels that God's blessings in their lives are so dependent on how much faith they have to try and put themselves in our shoes. Better yet, just imagine if their most precious loved one were to die in a terrible, unexpected tragedy...would they say the same thing? Would it all still apply if those prayers had been prayed and believed and they didn't "work"?

No Mark...Daddy and I believe differently than many. Our definition of faith is believing that God is in control...that He loves us and died for us...and that He brings joy and pain to us for His glory alone. I have never been so confused in my entire life, and yet, I think that my faith is stronger than it ever has been because nothing makes sense, and yet I still believe. We know that God took you as part of His plan and for His glory and there isn't anything that we could have done to keep you here. God doesn't need nor does He want our permission to act in our lives. He gives and takes away and we will continue to praise Him through it all. We may never understand why, but I will always have the peace knowing that it was through Him that we lost you and not because of us.

Wish I was holding you...I love you,

Mommy

What a Day, Glorious Day That Will Be

2011-03-30T16:18:00.004-05:00

I may have already posted this picture a while back...I didn't check.

I've been stuck on this picture specifically lately because it perfectly captures the image that I have of Mark in my mind. Smiling through his pacifier and just happy.

He had just had his first haircut and I can remember how amazed I was that he looked so "grown up" all of a sudden. How I want to reach into the picture and just hold him. My arms still ache just for him.

Grief has become my constant companion...expected each day and all day, but managed. Mostly. I am overwhelmed at least once a day at some point because anything and everything reminds me of him somehow.

No pity party here...just sadness that is common to all of us. Our problems and pain all come in different packages, but are real to each of us.

What a Day That Will Be

There is coming a day when no heartaches shall come-

No more clouds in the sky, no more tears to dim the eye.

All is peace forever more on that happy golden shore.

What a day, glorious day that will be!

What a day that will be when my Jesus I shall see,

And I look upon His face-the One who saved me by His grace.

When He takes me by the hand and leads me thro' the Promised Land;

What a day, glorious day that will be!

There'll be no sorrow there, no more burdens to bear,

No more sickness, no pain, no more parting over there.

And forever I will be with the One who died for me.

What a day, glorious day that will be!

What a day that will be when my Jesus I shall see,

And I look upon His face-the One who saved me by His grace.

When He takes me by the hand and leads me thro' the Promised Land;

What a day, glorious day that will be!

Mark, I am so glad that you have met our Jesus. To be honest, if I was given the choice, I would still choose to have you back here with me even though I know it would be wrong.

I long for the day that we are all there with you and with HIM. I long for it with all that is within me. Every day...all day. My smile will never be as genuine as it was with you here and my joy will never be as full without you.

I will keep facing tomorrow because HE lives and because HE has you safely in HIS arms.

I love you big boy.

You know who YOU are

2011-02-21T07:01:00.003-06:00

Writing the following post goes against my better judgement, but I have had enough. I have heard comments that are ignorant, read comments left by self righteous people who have no clue and now yet another comment directed toward my friend Karol and the loss of Laynee. I have had it!

I sincerely hope that "anonymous" that left a comment on "Loving Laynee's" blog is reading my blog right now. Not only you, but anyone else who has ever thought that we should have been watching our children better at the time of their tragedy. Anyone else who wants to blame us for their untimely deaths...ANYONE who feels that they are so perfect and without fault that they have the right to cast a stone at us! Who do you think you are!!!!!?????

If it hadn't occurred to you already, we do and will feel guilt for the rest of our lives for our child's death even though there was NO willful neglect on our part or anyone else who was responsible for the child. But, you wouldn't know anything about the pain of all of this, so I guess that you thought you had to remind us. Do you really think that we intentionally stopped watching our child...and all of the other people who were watching our child...do you think that they all stopped and thought to themselves, "Hmm, I don't think that Mark needs to be watched right now." No! It is called an accident! You know, when things happen that aren't planned? Do you have any children???? Have they ever cut their finger or fallen off of a chair or skinned their knee? Why weren't you watching them? Have you been able to keep yourself from ever getting hurt? Do you feel guilty when you hurt yourself? Do you blame your parents for any accident that happened to you as a child? These all DO fall in the same category. You cannot think that what happened to our children was any different than what happens to anyone on any given day...the end result was different, but nothing else.

The truth is that even though the consequences of our tragedies are so much greater than a minor cut or a broken bone...it all happens the same way. It was an accident. The circumstances surrounding our tragedies were just normal, everyday activities. That is what is so disturbing...that you can be doing the same thing that you do every single day and then something terrible happens. In fact, in our situation, Mark was being supervised by several, very competent and loving adults who were doing a wonderful job. You know what happened? Distraction! Things that you don't expect and CANNOT plan for. Any of us parents who have lost a child due to an accident...especially one that was seemingly avoidable...would have given our own lives to save our child! All of us were doing our best! We love our child more than life and you have to right to even utter a word of blame.

Another thing...we can speculate and blame all we want to when it comes to accidental deaths of anyone. But, are we even in our control? Does God really leave it up to us...flawed human beings...to be in charge of when someone dies? I'm not sure that He does. It certainly appears to us that we are the ones who are responsible for our child's death due to our imperfectness, but, ultimately, God is the one in charge. Why don't you take it up with Him. We sure have. We feel more helpless and confused than anyone can imagine. Do you know why???? Because we ARE great parents and we WERE doing our job...despite what happened and despite what you think.

So, if you don't have children...I suggest that you don't have any because things happen...accidents happen. If you do have children...then you have a big problem with self esteem by trying to put the rest of us down to make yourself feel better. I don't think that there is a parent alive that could tell me that their child never got hurt or that something didn't "almost" happen that could have been terrible. It happens to EVERYONE! It just so happens that in most cases, the worst doesn't happen, but there is always that possibility...it doesn't mean that we were doing anything different or worse than any other parent on the planet.

Go spend your time examining your own self...your own flaws and imperfections. Focus on that. Also, please read John 8:1-11. And, while I do not consider our "lack of supervision", as you would call it, as a sin...this passage applies. It would also be good for you to read since you might have the same attitude toward those who willfully abuse their children, abort their children, neglect their children or kill their own children. Despite the vileness of such actions and the pain it causes to think of children being hurt, it still doesn't give anyone the right to judge those parents either. Not unless your perfect, that is.

The bottom line is that those of you who want to blame the parents of children who die tragically in accidents do so in order to make sense of it in your mind. You don't want to think that something so horrible could happen to you or your child and so you want to think that we were doing something wrong or different than you would do as a parent. The truth is...in our case, Laynee's case and most others...we parent just like you...we love our children just as much as you do, and yes...it could happen to you. No matter how great of a parent you are. We are all imperfect. Period.

Worry

2011-02-17T18:58:00.003-06:00

I don't remember what I used to worry about before Mark died. What did my mind obsess about at night when thoughts wouldn't go away and was there something in particular that bothered me when I got up in the morning? I really can't recall.

What I do know is that now my mind never rests. Thoughts about Mark are ever present and disturbing...as though sometimes is still doesn't seem real that he is gone. Sometimes it doesn't seem real that he was ever here. But then, there are those pictures...always his sweet face looking back at me and so real that I can almost hear his voice.

Mark's death has launched me into a perpetual state of worry for the safety of my other children. It is overwhelming and exhausting. This morning, I couldn't help but wonder why Maegan had slept so soundly during the night. She usually sleeps all night, but there is always a cough or movement that wakes me once or twice. Not last night. I awoke to terrifying thoughts that she must be dead in her crib. What would I do? I kept picturing myself walking in to her room and finding her there...wondering how I would handle the situation. I so traumatized my oldest daughter after finding Mark in the water by screaming and kicking that I wouldn't want to do that again. Would I send them all outside so that I could scream and cry and hold her lifeless little body in my arms? I could even envision what she looked like dead. Why? Because I have seen my own child dead. Lifeless and losing the color from his skin while I hold him. The biggest blessing of the day was running to Maegan's room, opening her door and seeing her chest moving up and down with every breath. I even had to touch her and feel the warmth.

This is the ugly truth of grief...of the entire process. It makes most of life seem so trivial when your mind is occupied with such painful "what ifs" and the truth of what has already happened. The worst part is that I know what it would feel like if it happened again. I could imagine it and feel it as a real occurrence.

A few days ago, my children and I were listening to a song in the car that had to do with God's miracles being all around us in our daily lives. I could tell that my eight year old was bothered by something and so I turned the song down and asked her what was on her mind. Very matter-of-factly she stated that "There was no miracle when Mark was in the hospital...God didn't give us a miracle then." Then, she just turned her head and stared out the window. I said nothing. She was right.

Where does all this lead? Trust in God? The Bible commands it and I fail every time. I know that trusting God with my children doesn't mean that He won't take another one from me. It didn't keep Him from taking Mark. It means that I am supposed to trust God in all of His decisions and know that they are right. I do because I have no choice. If I didn't trust in a plan and purpose there would be no point in going on at all.

Is it supposed to keep me from having obsessive, disturbing and worrisome thoughts? Maybe. I'm working on it. The process is hard...so much harder and longer than I could have ever imagined.

Merry Christmas Mark

2010-12-15T20:29:00.006-06:00

Dearest Mark,

It has been too long. Each day without you brings us agony. We find the joy in the life that we have here with each other, but you are never more than a thought away.

We have been so very, very busy this month. Running around from here to there...watching your sisters in their programs and concerts...but nothing that we do feels right without you here with us. The daily reminders of your absence are painful and everywhere. Daddy saw a toy tractor that he would have bought for you this year and as I wrote out tags for your sisters' presents...I saw the indentions from the pen where I had written your tags the last Christmas you were here. "To: Mark, From: Mommy and Daddy". You should be here shaking the presents under the tree...begging me to tell you what is in them. All I see in the stores are things that I know you would have enjoyed.

Being the imperfect person that I am, I miss you in all of these worldly things. Christmas pageants, shopping and baking cookies. It may be that I feel that you should be here for all of this, but I know the truth full well. There would never be anything here on this earth that could make you want to leave the arms of Jesus. Knowing that we will be with you after the toils of this life keeps us going...it gives us hope for our future, but it doesn't take away the sorrow. We can only focus on the reason we celebrate Christmas, remembering to be forever thankful that Jesus was born to save us all.

I haven't been to visit your sweet grave lately even though I know that the flowers must be so faded by now. I thought about bringing some poinsettias to replace the blue ones, but I can't make myself go. It doesn't help. I don't know if it ever will.

I cleaned out the coat closet the other day and I took your coat out and put it in the garage. Leaving it hanging for the last two years has been a strange comfort of some kind, but it seems as time goes on, some things just get harder...I couldn't stand to see it in there anymore without you here to wear it. There was also the jacket that I bought a few sizes to big for you to grow into. Gone...into the boxes of your things.

My mind held better aspirations for this letter to you...I had so many things that I wanted to say, but my thoughts are a mess. After more than two years of missing you every minute of the day, I can't explain nor describe the pain any better than I could in the beginning. The shock of your death and the grief of losing you are as present as they ever have been. It is easier to hide it, but I still wake up every day, longing to see your face and kiss your cheeks...crying most every morning on the way to work...seeing you in almost every little boy...mourning the loss of all of the dreams that we had for you each time I think of you...and not wanting to take a picture of the family because you are missing.

Merry Christmas son...wish I was there.

2,3,4

2010-11-14T11:26:00.002-06:00

Two years, three months and four days since I've seen this beautiful face...

it isn't getting any easier.

Love them well

2010-11-02T20:44:00.003-05:00

Today, our baby Maegan is one year old...so hard to believe. I think that she grew up overnight. She had a wonderful day at Mother's Day Out with her friends, helped us vote and then she took us to dinner at Chili's. What one year old doesn't like sweet corn and mashed potatoes from Chili's???

Three years ago, I was completely at peace with our decision to not have any more children. The four that God so richly blessed us with absolutely filled our lives with happiness and joy. We would often catch ourselves just basking, if you will, in their innocence and love. I can even remember telling Joe that I wish that we could just freeze them all at that moment so that the goodness would last forever. Then, Mark died.

We have learned that God is, indeed, sovereign. He will do what He must for the good of those He loves. For me. For Mark. For my other children. I don't understand how Mark's death was good, but I trust. There isn't any part of me that is really at peace with it and there isn't a minute that goes by that I don't long to hold him again. However, everything in me is going to continue to trust in the God that gave me my children in the first place. The God that has Mark in His arms while I wait to get there. Even when I don't feel like it. It has continued to be a choice that I make while I grope through the darkness of grief...based only on faith and not my feelings.

While I don't consider any part of Mark's death to be good, I have to consider that if he had not died, we wouldn't have Maegan. I would give anything to be able to go back in time and have life the way it was...with Mark. At the same time, if it meant not having Maegan, I couldn't make that choice. I'm glad that I don't have the option one way or the other. God is God and I am not.

I praise God that we changed our mind about having more children and that God chose to bless us with another child despite our feelings of inadequacy and imperfection that come from not being able to protect our son from death. Maegan fills my broken heart with joy and she reminds me how much I loved Mark. Even as I struggle with the guilt of how we lost our precious child, I know that with each cuddle, each tickle, each lullaby and each kiss that we give Maegan...I can remember how we did all of those things with Mark...and with all of our children, as we still do. I remember that we loved him well and that we couldn't have loved him any more than we already did.

And, certainly, I cannot forget our three oldest girls...daughters that continue to hold strong in their own storm of sadness over losing their brother. Daughters that are patient as their parents, especially their mother, try to find joy and purpose each day...daughters that are loved beyond measure. More than they know. Here are the most recent pictures...Halloween, of course! The girls and I were trying to decide what costume Mark would have worn this year.

The little things can hurt so much.

I wasn't crazy about her costume...but it was a battle that I chose not to pick. :)

Maryanna

Madison

Macy

Maegan

2010-10-14T16:38:00.003-05:00

Will there be a day when I can look at my son's sweet face and have true peace in my soul? A day when I won't long for what was? His smile rips open the wounds...the curls, the eyes...my Mark. How am I supposed to let go of my child? Is there any way???

I see his picture and I am back with him...hugging him, rocking him and laughing at every little antic.

Looking at him...I am remembering it all and wanting him back with me as much as I did the day he left.

I have managed to remain on the "not-so-depressed" side these past couple of weeks. A new part-time job has helped me tremendously. I may be physically exhausted, but it has kept me from being so consumed with emotion. Being away from the house keeps my mind from dwelling in the land of "why me" and "if only's." And, aside from that, the book that I quoted from in the last post, "A Grace Disguised", has been a source of comfort each time I sit down to read it. Taking it from a guy who has been there...this long, lonely and dark road of grief...I find hope in so much of what he writes.

It seems that the rarity of being hopeful is, in itself, a little gift. Sometimes I don't realize how much of a gift it is until I feel like I do today. Angry. Hopeless. Just plain ticked-off that Mark isn't here with me. Pity party...table for one, please.

(Sigh.) Grief requires work. Hard work. And frankly, today, I just didn't feel like putting forth the effort. From all of the "wrong" songs that they played on the radio to remembering something that Mark used to do that I had forgotten until today...it just stinks. It is much easier to give in to the grief. Must I keep fighting this good fight...getting up in the morning to face another day that will end the same way that it began? How long? How long?

For now...I am still walking in the midnight, but facing the east...Lord, please send the dawn.

God, spare us from a life of fairness

2010-09-30T21:36:00.004-05:00

The following is an excerpt from the book, "A Grace Disguised...how the soul grows through loss", written by Jerry Sitser. The author lost his wife, his 4 year old daughter and his mother all in the same tragic accident. I cherish the words of this man who has been ripped apart by grief and lived through it. His journey leads me to God's Word...points me in the direction of healing and gives me hope in the midst of this despair.

As my heart constantly wrestles with my mind for control, I focus on letting this truth make it's way deep inside my soul.

"I would prefer to take my chances living in a universe in which I get what I do not deserve-again, either way. That means that I will suffer loss, as I already have, but it also means I will receive mercy. Life will end up being far worse than it would have otherwise been; it will also end up being far better. I will have to endure the bad I do not deserve; I will also get the good I do not deserve. I dread experiencing undeserved pain, but it is worth it to me if I can also experience undeserved grace." (pg. 128)

"So, God spare us from a life of fairness! To live in a world with grace is better by far than to live in a world of absolute fairness. A fair world may make life nice for us, but only as nice as we are. We may get what we deserve, but I wonder how much that is and whether or not we would really be satisfied. A world with grace will give us more than we deserve. It will give us life, even in our suffering." (pg. 130)

Remind me

2010-09-13T08:17:00.002-05:00

I'm having a hard time this morning not being able to kiss that beautiful face. My ears ache to hear his sweet voice. My heart breaks each day when I have to say goodbye all over again. Somehow I think that one morning I will wake up and Mark will be in the next room...waiting to run and give me a hug. I just can't believe that this is my life.

Please believe me when I say that I am trying...I am trying to be thankful for all that God has given me. I am thankful for the time that I had with Mark and I love his sisters every bit as much. There is nothing good that I have done to deserve the blessings that God has poured out on my family...and the blessings are so many. He gives and He takes away and in all things He is worthy to be praised.

I remind myself of these truths every day, because honestly...my heart keeps forgetting.

2 years and 1 month

2010-09-10T07:13:00.003-05:00

He's been gone as long as we had him with us here...

it's hard to take in...

actually...still...impossible.

don't even know what to call this one

2010-09-02T08:42:00.003-05:00

Cute name pic sent by my friend Kelly...

and Karol...
(wish that the sand on Texas beaches was that pretty)

Feeling a little overwhelmed these days...emotionally anyway. My thoughts dwell on the accident and on how unfair it all seems. That such a beloved child could be taken away from parents who have always done everything in their power to keep him safe...to love him...to cherish him. It is simplistic rationale and I know that it isn't even rational. It doesn't seem to make it any easier. I don't even know why I have such a hard time trusting God and the fact that He has a plan. Knowing the truth that He alone allowed Mark to leave this earth...not 10 adults who were distracted for a couple of minutes.

Maybe I want to punish myself? Feel that it is all my fault because someone has to pay for this. This wasn't hurt feelings or losing a job or breaking a leg...this was my son's LIFE here on this earth...there is no bringing him back.

Obviously, I still have a long way to go. One day at a time. Maybe by the time I get to the point that I have forgiven myself...I will be holding him again.

Here is a picture that was taken a few weeks before he died. I had just returned from a mission trip to Nicaragua and brought him the cutest little baseball shirt. He was pretty tired here...we were at a bowling alley for a Sunday School party. Macy is sleeping on my shoulder and he was content to lay there on my lap.

Oh Mark, I miss you.

That's just the way it is

2010-08-25T09:39:00.004-05:00

It has been a bit difficult with the girls back in school...I sure do miss them. Just me and Maegan here. I do cherish the time with just her though, well, except when she is pushing every button on the computer keyboard and pulling the mouse off of the desk! :)

There have probably been other posts that I have written regarding how grief sneaks up on me every day...several times a day in fact. It happens still...often...without warning. One minute I can actually be having an "okay" day. Not really dwelling on Mark being gone, but just living my day and feeling a little smile creep across my face. And then, WHAM! Something. Anything. Everything seems to remind me of how Mark is gone. There are many, many times each day that something gets to me, but they are usually the same things every day. Seeing his pictures or his toys...talking about him with the girls and with Joe. They are still so difficult, but I am learning how to get through the "expected" surprises. Then, there are those ugly, uninvited and unexpected surprises.

Day before yesterday it wasn't even having to drive past the cemetery where his little body is buried. We don't visit it often because it just never helps. So, driving by is almost as painful, but we do it frequently and it is starting to lose its sting...ever so slowly. No, it was pulling over on the side of the road for a funeral procession. That was it and I was done for. All that I could think about was our procession for Mark. Remembering his uncles carrying the casket down the sidewalk and putting my only son into the back of the hearse. The hundreds of cars driving to the cemetery and remembering looking out of my window and being in absolute awe at the sight of so many people that loved him...that love us. I began to think of the burial, the sadness, the shock and the raw pain that is so unbelievably real. It never really does go away, but there are many times that all of the emotion can be kept just below the surface, just waiting for any little reminder to cause it to erupt. That's just the way it is.

This morning it was the purse that I haven't used for a couple of years now. I pulled it down yesterday to use since I was leaving my normal purse (aka "the diaper bag") with Grandma. No big surprises yesterday while I was actually using it, but as I was picking it up off of the coffee table this morning, I just happened to see a receipt at the bottom. It turns out that it was a receipt from Wal-Mart from the end of June of 2008...just a little over a month before Mark died. As if that wasn't enough already, I realized that this was the receipt for Mark's birthday present. His Little Tikes basketball hoop. A gift that I couldn't wait to buy because I knew how much fun he would have with it. Caught off guard, again. Bawling like a baby...again. How I would love to be outside with him right now playing basketball.

That's just the way it is.

More gallery pics

2010-08-16T15:47:00.004-05:00

So many of my wonderful friends have sent me pics for the gallery and I haven't even had a chance to post them until now. Love them all! I even have two more that won't fit on this post that I will post soon...another from Karol and one from my good friend Kelly.

Each picture gives me a measure of peace as I see Mark's name. My deepest gratitude and thanks to all of you who have taken the time to send me one.

Thanks Trisha!

Thanks Karol!

Thanks Maegan!

Now...unfortunately...I have absolutely no idea how to make this into an official "gallery". Since a normal post will only let me load 5 pictures at a time, how do I put them all in one place so that I can then post a link for it on my sidebar? Anyone? I should ask sweet Abigail Kraft who gave me this awesome blog makeover but maybe someone else knows so that I don't have to bother her. Does anyone know how to make the "buttons"?

Sure am missing him today...

Second verse...same as the first

2010-08-09T20:57:00.003-05:00

August 10, 2007...exactly one year before Mark left us.

There are so many "dreaded" days for us now. Mark's birthday, the day of the accident, the day that we took him off of life support, the day of his funeral, each and every holiday and special occasion...and well, every day in between. They cloud all of the happy memories that we had with him. And when I search through more and more pictures and see how happy we were...how happy he was...it just hurts more.

I feel like I am trying so hard. SO HARD! To survive, to thrive and to have peace in my heart and live my life in a way that is pleasing to God. It just isn't easy. It takes every ounce of energy that I have to get through the day without throwing in the towel. And, I'm not quite sure that I am any further along in letting go of my anger and bitterness than I was at this time last year. I have become a broken record that continues to play the same old sad song. Feeling sorry for myself because my son is dead and there isn't anything that I can do about it.

There are reasons that God puts us through the fire...I wish I knew why but it is safe to say that I wouldn't understand anyway. When I ponder the fact that God has a purpose in all of this...I have to try and imagine what a different person I will be in 10 or 20 years. I most likely won't even remember the person that I am now. Albeit a small encouragement in this vastness of grief. If I trust God, I have to trust that somehow, He will bring me through it for His glory. I will always suffer the loss...there is no other choice since Mark is not coming back to me. God may restore my joy fully in the years to come and He may not...He may grant me true peace, but He may not. Regardless of what He does with my life in the years that I have left...they will be for Him.

For now...two years after we watched our Marco Polo take his last breath when God did not perform the miracle that we all knew that He would...as his daddy held him and rocked him while I screamed and cried and beat the hospital bed with my fists...after I held my son's lifeless body for hours before they took him from me...and after the world turned upside down...I still miss him. Every second of every day. My heart still feels as though it will explode at any moment...it is hard to cope.

I will keep putting one foot in front of the other...breathe in...breathe out. I have no other choice. God, I trust you.

the last day

2010-08-04T18:44:00.002-05:00

Two years ago today was the last day that I saw Mark smile...

the last day that he held my hand...

the last day that I saw his beautiful brown eyes looking up at me...

the last day that I heard him laugh...

the last day that he called me "mama"...

the last day that he played with his sisters...

the last day that my heart wasn't shattered.

Joe and I believe that Mark went to heaven on this day...at the time of his drowning, even though his body remained here with us for another week. We are thankful that we had the chance to cuddle with him and hold him for the last time and that family and friends were able to say goodbye.

The hole in my heart grows bigger every day and I, too, am drowning...in sorrow...in pain and in grief. Such small words to try and describe the biggest pain that anyone can experience in this life.

It is time for him to come home. Please Lord, send him back to me.

For Cathy

2010-07-21T18:04:00.010-05:00

Dear Cathy in Missouri,

Thank you for the insightful and loving comments that you left on my previous post. I clicked on your username in order to find a link to email you, but it wouldn't allow it. So, I am glad to just respond to you here and hope that you read this post. Maybe it will help someone else as well.

There is so much wisdom and truth in the excerpt that you included in your first comment...from the book, "Seven choices...". After I read it, I felt such a rush of relief and peace. It sums up what I would love to say, but feel that I lack when I try to put it into words. For this reason I read, read, read and read about others who have suffered such a great loss. I gain the connection that I need to get me through the day. When I read that someone is feeling the exact same way that I am, I can reclaim a small bit of my sanity. Thank you for including that paragraph...it means more to me than you know. Because it is so true...there is nothing that will ever make the death of a child okay. Ever.

As for your second comment...this has been an area that I struggle with constantly. I would expect that most people who are dealing with such sorrow are feeling the same way as well. How do we deal with those who are not suffering as we are? I have to say that, even though it is a living nightmare to be where we are...it is no easy task to be on the other side either.

The fact is that it is a lose-lose situation. I spend almost every minute of every day thinking about my precious Mark...about how I found him in the water...about how I miss his smell and his laugh and his mischievous nature...about how he looked lying in the casket...about him being buried...about how I should have a little 4 year old son running around the house and giving me hugs and kisses. I could go on and on. And, it isn't as though I just think about these things. They all evoke the same pain as when it all first happened. It is torture and it doesn't seem to be alleviated by any of my pleads and prayers to God. That isn't to say that He doesn't hear me or that He doesn't care...it may just be that the pain is all a part of the refining process that I am in. The fact is, there is absolutely no possible way that anyone who hasn't been in this situation could even begin to understand how all-consuming it is. Every minute of every day. Emotionally draining with no end in sight. Just a lifetime of the same.

So, what am I to actually expect of others? I can't expect them to actually understand how awful this all is. Only to be in the situation itself would one understand. However, almost everyone that I have talked to since Mark died has the absolute best intentions possible. In fact, I can't think of anyone yet who has intentionally tried to say or do anything hurtful to me. Have people said things that hurt? Yes! But, as much as it hurts, it was coming from a pure heart...I truly believe that. I believe that most people know that there really isn't anything to say that will make it better, but their words are an attempt to convey the love that they feel for me. Even when someone makes a comment about how it will all be okay and that Mark is in heaven and everything is wonderful and we should be so happy to think about seeing him again one day...well, that is all fine and good except that they didn't lose their child. I try to deal with them by telling myself that they wouldn't say those things if they were in my shoes, but that they are still trying to help. It also helps for me to try and remember what I used to "believe" before Mark died. There are times that I know I would be thinking some of the same things that others think of me...however misguided and ignorant. It is like someone trying to tell you how to take care of your pet fish by telling you what they do for their pet hamster. (I know, terrible analogy...I couldn't think of anything else.)

It is normal for people to want to move on and for them to want us to "get over it" and live again. They do, essentially, want to "fix" us so that they can have their old friend or relative back. The person that they used to know. Most days, I try to function as everyone expects because I have 4 other children who need that as well. Truthfully, I could sit and cry all day, every day because it just hurts that badly, but I wouldn't be a mother to my girls that way. I suppose it is all a big act...just pretending as though everything is okay and that time is healing, even though it isn't. There just isn't a good alternative since the world didn't stop for everyone else like it did for us. My husband still has to go to work and I still have to do all of the "mom" things that need to be done. I love my girls every ounce as much as I love Mark and they deserve all that we can give. Some days it is more than others.

To be completely honest, before my son died, I was probably one of the worst comforters ever! I felt such hurt for someone who lost their loved one, but I never knew the right words to say. In fact, I probably said some extremely stupid things to several people who were hurting. I wish that I could change that. I have learned that listening is the best that anyone can do. I have been blessed with several friends and family members that are willing to listen anytime I need to let it all out. I call on them less and less because it is just the same old pain, just a different day and I don't want to continue to burden them...but I know that they are there nonetheless.

From your comment, I do get the idea that maybe there has been someone who has said hurtful things to you regarding your faith...thinking that you are lacking faith because of sorrow. Absolutely ridiculous! And, I don't know exactly what I would say to someone if they said that to me, but I hope that if they ever do, that they say it on one of my "better" days so that I can say something that I don't regret later. For me, the knowledge that I will see my Mark again doesn't alleviate the suffering, the emptiness and the sorrow...but it is the absolute only comfort that I have. It is the only truth that I can hold on to that will get me through the day. Everything else is lost...he is not here...he never will be here again and I still can't believe that it is true...that a loss so great and an emptiness so overwhelming has overtaken my life and yet, I am still supposed to carry on. It really is absurd. My other alternative would be to check myself in to the psych ward in the hospital and live out my days. At times, I have considered it seriously, but I am confident in the fact that God wants more from me than that. Otherwise, He wouldn't have allowed this all to happen. I don't know how I am going to get through tomorrow, or the next day, or the next...but I know that even if I live for another 60 years with this pain in my heart, God has a plan. It may just not be the life that I would have chosen for myself. I have accepted that a life full of suffering may be the life God wants for me. I try and remind myself that I have so much to be thankful for as well.

I don't know if any of my ranting helped at all. The bottom line is that there are no answers. We can only do the best that we know how from moment to moment and believe that everyone that loves us is trying their best too. We are all imperfect people living in an imperfect and sinful world. Come quickly Lord Jesus.

Sincerely,

Angie

Happy 4th Birthday

2010-07-10T07:18:00.003-05:00

Happy Birthday my sweet Mark.

I would love to see your precious 4 year old face coming around the corner this morning...greeting me with a grin. You were such a happy guy when you woke up. If you were here, I would give you the biggest birthday hug and kiss and fix you your favorite breakfast.

It was difficult to get out of bed, knowing that there will be no birthday party to go to and no cake to eat. No presents and no pictures of you opening them.

Instead, we will go to your grave. We know you aren't really there, but it is as close as we can get to you...the son and brother that we love so much. Your flowers are fading and so I bought you new ones...blue again. It won't bring us any peace, but nothing really does. We just want you back.

There are no words to describe the hurt that we still feel. The pain isn't any less that it was the day you left...just different. I ache for you with every breath. I wait for the day that I can hold you again. Until then...I love you...Happy Birthday.

gallery pics and the dreaded month of July

2010-07-01T10:11:00.005-05:00

From my 5 (almost 6) year old niece...Bella. :)

Thank you Isabella!

From my friend, Georgianna. I love the shells...I know that Mark would be just as obsessed with collecting them at the beach as his sisters are!

These two are from my sweet friend, Daphne.

That color red reminds me of the red Farmall tractors that he (well, his daddy) liked

so much.

I can't deny it anymore...June is gone and July has come. I knew it would...despite my protest. Somehow, I can handle June okay. The busyness of summer overshadows the looming reminders that lurk around the corner. But July brings the panic that comes with thinking about the "days" that have to come. The days that manage to be even more painful than all of the other days without my son. Mark's birthday...July 10th. He would have been 4. How I wish that I was having to chase him around and plan his birthday party and wrap up big boy toys. And then there is August. August 10th...the worst day of my life.

If anyone knows how I can go to sleep tonight and wake up on September 1st...please let me know.

Not much to say

2010-06-15T07:25:00.002-05:00

I am here, but I don't have much to say these days. The normal business of life with all of the girls home for the summer and my husband who is a teacher all keeps my mind and soul occupied in such a manner that it fills some of the void, albeit temporarily.

There is so much that goes through my mind each minute, each second of the day. The emptiness that I feel inside and the pain that has become my closest friend...hasn't gone away. In some ways, it has just changed in little ways, but still manages to take my breath away each and every day. Like a punch in the gut and a slap in the face over and over and over.

Mostly, I have started to feel that no matter how I try to describe the nightmare that I am living, it might just be that nobody will ever really "get" it. And, make no mistake...I don't want anyone to actually experience the loss of a child. But, the more time that passes, the more I realize that people in general just expect us (those who have suffered such a terrible loss), to just move on...to drop the sorrow and the pain and leave the mourning behind.

If that were possible, I might need another 20 years or so to work through this grief. The fact that I trust God with my pain...that I know He has a plan for our family...that Mark is in heaven in perfect peace and joy and that somehow, his death was all for the best in God's plan is necessary to get me through each day, but it doesn't take an ounce of the pain away. For now, I will tell anyone who really wants to know "How are you?". Otherwise, I will smile and carry on as usual since it is what makes everyone else more comfortable.

more and more gallery pics!

2010-06-05T12:11:00.002-05:00

All of these gallery pics were sent to me by one of my internet friends...

thanks Jennifer!!

notice that this one is made with cheese slices...Mark's favorite!!!

I will eventually put all of these together in the gallery...

gallery pics

2010-05-24T08:34:00.002-05:00

I am so excited!! Two of my sisters-in-law each sent me a couple of pictures for

Mark's name gallery.

I just love them!

Thanks Sarah!...Thanks Becky!

What's in a name?

2010-05-17T07:22:00.005-05:00

We had Maryanna, Madison and Macy. So, when I was pregnant for the fourth time...there was no doubt in our mind that we would be having another "M". When we found out that we would be having a boy, we were so excited at all of the possibilities!

After a while, we narrowed it down to "Mark" or "Major". I'm not exactly sure where "Major" came from. We know of two "Major"s that I can think of, but otherwise, we just thought it was kind of cute. When people would ask us what we were going to name this baby and we would say, "Either Mark or Major"...you should have seen the looks. "Major???...I like Mark". This went on for quite some time until it was final...100 votes for "Mark", 1 for "Major". It didn't matter much anyway because we truly did like the name "Mark" every bit as much as "Major". And, looking back, I can't imagine him being named anything else.

I also can't write about the names of our children without mentioning the following... my husband loved the fact that "Maryanna" has 4 syllables..."Madison" has 3 syllables..."Macy" has 2 syllables and "Mark" has one. Neat, huh? Or, strange...however you want to look at it. :) It all just seemed to fit so perfectly together...the six of us. We felt complete.

I have decided to officially start a name gallery for Mark. If you have never heard of a name gallery...it is just a collection of pictures that have the name written in a creative way. It could be spelled in jellybeans or sticks...written in the sand or snow...or, in Mark's case, since he has a pretty common name, photographed from a sign, etc.

Here are the first two pictures. Maryanna wrote his name in the sand on our most recent trip to the beach and I snapped a picture of Mark's name written on the side of the ferry.

I just love looking at his name.

If you have time and energy and want to take a picture of Mark's name for the gallery, please email it to the address posted on the blog's sidebar. Today, tomorrow, next week or next month...whenever.

If you need some ideas, here is the link to the name gallery of our sweet friend, Ayden...

www.thejonesfamily52009.blogspot.com/2009/10/aydens-name-gallery.html

So much for a nap

2010-05-12T07:42:00.003-05:00

I hadn't planned on posting today. My day has been busy pulling weeds and watering our somewhat large garden. The weather is beautiful outside and the girls and I have enjoyed our time looking at our many vegetables that are almost ready to be picked! So, like I said...I hadn't planned on posting, but here I am. Mostly, I am just feeling sorry for myself again. The same ol' "missing my son" record that plays over and over in my head.

Since we have church tonight, I like for Macy to take a nap. After all of my gardening, I thought that it wouldn't be a bad idea to take a nap myself since baby Maegan was sleeping as well. No sooner do I close my eyes but the images of Mark in the hospital flood my mind. The morning that we turned off his ventilator...my husband holding our sweet little boy in his arms...rocking him back and forth...praying for a miracle. Me, literally screaming where the whole hospital could hear me, sobbing, feeling that I was going to die of a broken heart any second...in utter disbelief that this could all be happening. Our family, surrounding us in silence and tears, losing their nephew and grandson as they watched. The most wonderful and sweetest doctor ever, using her stethoscope to listen to Mark's chest for a heartbeat...pronouncing him dead after 12 minutes. Mark, my sweet Mark...gone...losing the pink color from his skin...growing cold...being placed next to me so that I could hold him one last time. I feel it all. Like it is happening all over again. Regardless of the joy that I try to imagine in my son beholding Heaven and all of it's splendor, of him being swept up in the arms of Jesus and being loved with a love that even his own mother couldn't give him...it hurts...with every deep part of my soul...it hurts.

These thoughts, these memories, come often. The horrible images of Mark in the water, the imagined images of him struggling and him wondering where his mommy and daddy were, the screaming, the helicopter, the ride to the hospital, seeing him hooked up to tubes and machines, not being able to look into his beautiful brown eyes, holding his hands and praying that he would squeeze me back...removing the life support. Even when a couple of days have passed without them...WHAM!...there they are again. I have no control over them and I have yet to figure out how to deal with them. I try to focus on the happy memories and everything that was wonderful about Mark's short 2 years here. But even thinking about all of the love that Mark was surrounded with and how he enjoyed each moment of his life...the bad memories still come. There are times that I wonder why God hasn't taken them from me despite my pleading. Why he hasn't eased the torture of it all. I have prayed and prayed for just that. Then, I wonder if the pain is for His purposes. This physical agony that I find myself in over and over and over must be part of His will for my life. Grief itself must be a refining fire of some kind.

I have no speculation of what our future lives will be like here on earth. I can only wake up each morning and surrender my life to God and His purposes. There are days that I don't think that I will make it another step...then I just take another...and another. I have set my course to follow His will, even now, when I don't feel like it. I will stand firm in the fact that God loves me and my family...that He will guide us until we make it home and find the face of Jesus and my son...arms open wide, running to greet me...just like he did here.

Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him. Job 13:15

Dear Mark

2010-05-07T07:42:00.003-05:00

Dear Mark,

I miss you more with each passing day. The fact that you are no longer here still surprises me...each time I see your picture or think of your sweet hugs...I lose my breath. My heart seems to stop and all the world goes dark. There is a part of me that just can't accept your death, no matter how hard I have tried. And I have tried...how I have tried.

Why do I struggle daily to convince myself of the truth? The truth that you are in Heaven...in perfect peace and happiness with Jesus Himself. Why can't I put aside the sadness and move on by just anticipating the day that I will hold you again? Why can't I just be glad for the two years that I had you here with me and not grieve for the years that will never be. The pain is so twisted and complex. Like trying to count the grains of sand on a beach...there is no end.

I'm not sure why writing a letter to you helps. I'm not entirely sure that you are even aware of what is happening with us now. I hope that your time in Heaven is but an instant before I am there. Not that I am fooling myself into thinking that you could possibly need me somehow...but I need you. Somehow, I have to be your mother, even in your absence. My heart just can't let go.

Lately, I have asked God for assurance...assurance that you are okay. Any little "sign" that would give me a measure of peace and get me through the day. Something that will blindside me and leave me with one less question. So far...nothing. Maybe it is wrong to ask. Maybe I should be reading my Bible more and trusting everything on faith. Before you died, I would have believed that. Now, I cry out for God to just appear to me and tell me that it will all be okay...that God has a plan, that Heaven is real, that you are there, that I will be there soon and that this earthly life is fleeting . I need a divine revelation...a dream...anything! I am having to test and re-prove everything that I have ever accepted in faith. Of course, I am always led back to God's truth. Without it, there would be no hope...no reason to live at all.

Each day, there is at least one moment where I want to give up. This level of emotional distress is no kind of life. Will I even be able to make it through the rest of my life like this? I outwardly celebrate each day with your daddy and your sisters...playing, laughing and honestly loving the time with them. Inwardly, the pain of losing you eats away at me...like a battle raging inside. A fight for my sanity. However, no matter how difficult it is to go on, I will continue to function. I will continue to fight through the tears so that your sisters will not suffer any more than they already have. They need me.

I'm not sure how others view my grief...your daddy's grief. Do people think that it is time that we just moved on? Do they want us to "just be happy already!"? I don't know. There is no way to explain what missing you feels like...no words, no description. It almost seems that we are destined to live a life of seclusion because we are different, changed. We are living every parent's worst nightmare and not sure what tomorrow holds.

What I do know is that we miss you...with each beat of our heart and each second that ticks away we long to hold you again. We will always be your mommy and daddy and you will always be our Marco Polo, our Marky Poo...our son.

2 months

2010-04-30T10:26:00.004-05:00

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

2010-04-28T10:04:00.005-05:00

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...

2010-04-22T08:52:00.002-05:00

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...

2010-04-20T10:18:00.006-05:00

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!

2010-04-19T08:48:00.001-05:00

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

2010-04-16T07:33:00.004-05:00

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

2010-04-15T07:36:00.003-05:00

April 2007

9 months old

Finding Mark in Wal-Mart

2010-04-13T11:59:00.005-05:00

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

2010-04-05T08:23:00.003-05:00

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!

Three years ago

2010-03-31T08:13:00.006-05:00

Here are some pictures of Mark...in March...3 years ago.

Memories are so fresh in my mind that it feels like it was all just yesterday.

Feeling his soft skin and hair...looking into those big, beautiful brown eyes...

having his chubby little fingers wrapped around mine...holding him.

I can close my eyes and feel it all so vividly. If I just concentrate, I know that I

can bring him back to me...he can't really be gone.

At the same time, if it weren't for pictures...I would swear that none of it

happened...it seems so long ago.

It is impossible to explain and even harder for me to sort it all out in my mind.

There are times that I know I must be losing all sense of reality. I feel that I am

living in a dream world of what really is, what was and everything

that I long for in eternity.

For now, I have these pictures of my baby boy...

when he WAS here...

in March...

three years ago.

I miss...(part 3)

2010-03-29T08:42:00.005-05:00

I miss cleaning milk splatter off of the walls from him shaking his sippy cup too hard.

I miss calling him "buddy", "bud", "Marco Polo" and "Mark the Shark".

I miss hearing other people call him those names.

I miss hearing his sister Madison call him "Marky-Poo".

I miss feeling like I was a good parent.

I miss watching him run around in his pajama shorts with no shirt on and loving how easy it was to dress little boys.

I miss how he would practically lay on our cat to hug it and how the cat would so patiently wait until the "hug" was over.

I also miss how he would pull the cat's tail when he didn't think that we were watching...and still, the cat was ever so patient.

I miss sitting him on the kitchen counter to give him his medicine. He never argued.

I miss how he would run into the living room when he heard the Backyardigan's theme song on TV and how he would throw his arms up in the air and spin in circles...just like they did.

I miss watching him play on the church playground with his friends.

I miss watching him play on our playground with his sisters.

I miss washing him off with the garden hose when he was so muddy that he couldn't come inside.

I miss seeing his little black "crocks" in the shoe basket by the back door.

I miss playing peek a boo with him.

I miss the spots of eczema that he had on his ankles and the back of his knees that I had to doctor everyday.

I miss being able to think about swimming without feeling my chest tighten or being able to look at any swimming pool, lake, pond, puddle or bathtub full of water without imagining how he must have struggled in the water when he drowned.

I miss how he would walk through the church and throw open his arms and run to give people a hug.

I miss seeing him in all of our family pictures.

I miss feeling that life was so good.

I miss how he would smile and talk with his pacifier still in his mouth while trying to keep it from falling out.

I miss playing chase around the house while he squealed and laughed.

I miss giving him big, loud "raspberries" on his tummy.

I miss seeing him and being amazed at how much he looked like my brother.

I miss the part of me that died when he died.

I miss...(part 2)

2010-03-21T18:20:00.007-05:00

I miss pushing him in his little green umbrella stroller.

I miss seeing him snuggled in his new camoflauge sleeping bag.

I miss the way his sisters would make a mohawk on his head with shampoo at bathtime.

I miss helping him put on his brown, leather sandals.

I miss carrying him from the tub to his room all wrapped up in his lime green bath towel and how he would throw open his arms and unwrap himself and laugh and laugh.

I miss kissing him under his chin and making him cackle because he was so ticklish.

I miss "flying" him on my feet.

I miss buying size 5 diapers and looking at the cute little boy underwear and being excited about him wearing them soon.

I miss him helping me water my plants and water the garden.

I miss coming to pick him up from the nursery at church.

I miss pulling the high chair close to the table at supper time so that he could eat close to us.

I miss cleaning his messy face after he ate spaghetti.

I miss how he would run to greet me with his arms wide open whenever I came to pick him up from the nursery, Nana's or Grandma's.

I miss seeing him in his Daddy's loving arms.

I miss how he would put his hands on my cheeks and turn my head toward his face so that he could "tell" me something.

I miss how he would knock down anything that his sisters tried to build.

I miss going into his room at night and just watching him sleep.

I miss watching him ride around on his sister's pink Power Wheels motorcycle.

I miss his dancing.

I miss the weight of him in my arms.

I miss his love.

I miss being truly happy.

I miss...

2010-03-11T15:47:00.002-06:00

I miss his smile.

I miss how he would wrinkle up his nose and curl up his top lip just to make us laugh.

I miss combing his hair.

I miss rocking him to sleep and singing "You are my Sunshine".

I miss finding his "artwork" on our walls and couches when he found a marker or pen.

I miss how he would say "MAMA" when his sisters were trying to get him to say "DADDY".

I miss him grabbing my hand and pulling me to the refrigerator for a slice of his favorite cheese.

I miss buying little boy clothes.

I miss finding him sitting on the kitchen table and just waiting for me to fuss at him.

I miss how he followed Macy around and did everything that she did.

I miss stepping on little trucks and cars...anything that had wheels that he drove around the house.

I miss how he would take his pacifier out and smile for a picture and then put the paci right back in.

I miss his sweet smell after his bath.

I miss his dirty smell after he had played outside.

I miss looking in the rearview mirror of my van and seeing his sweet face smiling back at me.

I miss him fussing when I turned on the vacuum and his "wrinkled" nose of disapproval each time.

I miss his beautiful brown eyes.

I miss my buddy.

Loving Laynee

2010-03-09T07:23:00.003-06:00

Meet Laynee...

a precious 2 1/2 year old who went to live with Jesus...

long before anyone wanted her to.

Please visit www.lovinglaynee.blogspot.com

to read about the tremendous love and life of this sweet

little girl and take time to pray for this heartbroken family

that misses her with every breath that they take.

waiting...

2010-03-05T08:29:00.003-06:00

"And regarding the question, friends, that has come up about what happens to those already dead and buried, we don't want you in the dark any longer. First off, you must not carry on over them like people who have nothing to look forward to, as if the grave were the last word. Since Jesus died and broke loose from the grave, God will certainly bring back to life those who died in Jesus." 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14. (The Message)

Praying for it to be today.

The Magic Lizard

2010-02-23T08:43:00.008-06:00

My 7 year old brought home a short story that she wrote in class after reading a book with a similar scenario. I pulled it out of her backpack and read it, not realizing what it was about or what kind of impact it would have on me. It hurt. It hurt me because I miss Mark and it hurt me because my girls miss their brother. There was a physical ache and heaviness in my chest...the same ache that comes when I am reminded in all of those other "unexpected" ways that Mark is not here anymore...daily...it feels like being punched in the stomach...realizing that he is not coming back...saying goodbye to him all over as if it were THAT DAY...again.

The Magic Lizerd

by Madison

One day I found a purple pebble jest like Alexander. I ran to the liard to make my wish. he said I could wish for three thangs. First, I would wish for my brother to be with me because he dided. Next, I would wish to go to heven because I want to see God. Finally, I wish for the homeless people to have mony so they can have a home. Finding a purple pebble and meeting a magickal lizard would be fantastick. I hope my wishes come true.

...me too Madison...me too.

Shattered

2010-02-11T10:36:00.006-06:00

I am a lot of things...mother, wife, friend and daughter. Unfortunately, it seems that I am also my own worst enemy. As if it weren't enough that Mark died, life still comes with all of its disappointments and problems. For a time, nothing in the world seemed to matter after Mark was gone. Old problems certainly didn't mean anything to me and joy was nonexistent. I thought that I would live the rest of my life in this huge fog that seemed to distort everything that I looked at. Now, the fog is still here, but it isn't as dense. Everyday things are starting to have meaning again and I can see that life is worth living, even if some days I still feel like dying. But, along with the little joys that are creeping back into my life, the pains of "normalcy" are coming back too. It seems that in this in-between stage of grief, I function much like I used to and people are beginning to treat me as they did "before", but mentally, I still function as though Mark died yesterday. I still hurt as though Mark died yesterday.

Most recently, I let down a very close friend. Not intentionally, but severely nevertheless. I'm sure that it has happened on many occasions since the accident...where I have hurt someone without even knowing it and most definitely without meaning to. There has arisen an added selfishness to me that wasn't there before Mark died. Self-preservation maybe? It causes me to focus on how I am going to survive each day and keep my children emotionally healthy and not much else. Unfortunately, this doesn't leave much room to think about those around me and how my actions are affecting those that I love. And, I know that my sorrow is no excuse for being thoughtless...I'm not the only one in the world with problems. Truly, I am thankful for her forgiveness and patience and for the forgiveness that people have given me that I know nothing about.

Since the shock of Mark's death has worn off, I am beginning to feel the disappointment that I have in myself for all of the ways that I am lacking. I feel like a failure as a mother since I didn't protect my son from death...most days I am sure that I let my girls down miserably in so many ways...I have such wonderful friends and family that have been nothing but supportive and I will never be able to repay such kindness...and mostly, I just mess up one way or another all of the time. Sometimes I think that I am the only one who isn't perfect...the only one who seems to get it all wrong and who doesn't measure up to the standard that I have for myself.

In Christ, I am a new creature. I am forgiven and free. This I know, but I don't act like it. I long to see myself the way God sees me...the way He sees my heart and knows my every thought and intention, but it is so hard. I want to know how to let it all go...to give it to Him and forgive myself as I have already been forgiven. As I told the ladies in my Bible study this week, I feel like I have taken huge steps backwards in my spiritual walk. I am not at all proud of this, but I confess it so that I can do something about it. I am re-learning all that I know to be true...proving it to myself each day to be true.

I need God to pick up the pieces of my shattered life and broken heart and put them back together...put me back together.

Maegan

2010-02-04T07:38:00.002-06:00

MAEGAN...

3 months old...

smells so sweet...

starting to get chubby...

looks like her daddy...

has a dimple in her right cheek when she laughs...

big green-brown eyes...

melts your heart when she smiles...

helping us in our sorrow more than she will ever know...

our fifth blessing straight from Heaven.

Daughters of mine

2010-01-28T08:55:00.006-06:00

At Mark's viewing at the funeral home, a woman gave me a well-intended, yet curious, piece of advice. She told me not to forget about my daughters. My response...(in my head, of course) What?!! Forget about my daughters? My daughters were the only reason that I was still living and breathing...the only reason that I could think of to go on at all. How could I possibly forget them?

She was, as she went on to tell me, speaking from personal experience. Her brother had died when she and her sisters were children and she told me that her parents had basically "forgotten" about the girls. And, as sad as it is that she had to endure that...I can understand how easily it can happen. I hasn't happened to us, but it is a daily struggle. Not because we don't love our girls every ounce as much as we love Mark, but because it would be easier to give in to the grief and give up on life. It just hurts that much.

It is a delicate balance between grief and happiness when you have other children to care for. Life stopped for us when Mark died, but yet, my husband and I are responsible for these other, equally as precious, lives that depend on us for everything. Should I decide that I just don't want to live through this sorrow another day...I am condemning those precious girls to even more emotional turmoil than they have already experienced. They long for us, their parents, to be "okay". They have their moments of sadness as well as sharing in many family moments of sorrow. However, for the most part, they want life to be "normal" again...whatever that is. We have no choice but to do our best to appear happy...to function well enough to keep us from literally going crazy. Our girls deserve that. They deserve better, but it is all we can do right now. Grief is an all-encompassing monster that can consume every bit of energy that I have. But, in the midst of fighting off the pain, I must purposely make time for the joy.

I can't explain how much my love has grown for these extraordinary little people that live in my house. I appreciate everything so much more. I try and absorb each little tidbit that they throw my way. The smiles, laughs, cuddles, jokes and conversation. It all means so much more than it ever did. The only problem is that most of the time my broken spirit overwhelms me to the point that I can only focus on how much I miss Mark. It is certainly frustrating. I can forget the pain for a few moments when I am basking in the special moments that come, but as soon the time is over, my mind is violently jerked back to the reality of grief. The truth is, I have to say goodbye to Mark each day just like the day he died.

The sweetness mixed with the sorrow is bittersweet and not what I had planned for my life. That is why I am trying so very hard to realize that it is not MY life. I gave it to God long ago and I intend to see what He has in store for me. My lack of understanding doesn't mean that God doesn't know what He is doing. I wish that I had the answers...I find myself pondering the "whys" each day, even though I may never know here on earth.

I will choose to be thankful for the 2 magnificent years that I had with my son and to be equally as thankful for my 4 beautiful, curious, intelligent, energetic, compassionate and caring daughters whom, as my Granny used to say, "I love to pieces"!

I love you girls!

From my arms to HIS

2010-01-21T13:36:00.005-06:00

From my arms...

straight to HIS arms...

forever.

If only I could catch a glimpse behind the veil...

to see my baby boy in Heaven's perfection and glory.

If he could tell me, "I'm fine, Mommy"...

would it be enough?

I wish every day that it could be...

that I could see Mark running and playing and praising God.

I will have to believe it to get me through the years...

no matter how many I must endure here.

Until I get to hold him in my arms once more.

I miss him.

Cheese!

2010-01-11T08:08:00.003-06:00

How about this for cute!?

There is my little guy...in the high chair at Nana's house. (sigh)

As I was helping my mother load all of her pictures from her camera to her computer the other day...I came across this one. It was a painful shock and a great surprise all at the same time. It seems that all of the pictures that I have of Mark are getting a little less difficult to look at...I am getting used to them and I can anticipate what my response will be as I prepare to look at them. However, when I am confronted with a picture of him that I have never seen...like the one above...well...let me just tell you that it is like a tidal wave of emotion.

I'll just get to the point of this post. A memory that I may have mentioned at an earlier time, but maybe in not so much detail. Here goes...

Cheese. Yes, cheese. I want it to be recorded that my Marco Polo LOVED him some cheese. But, not just ANY cheese. No. Not the distinguished cheddar or swiss. Not him. He only liked the best...processed American cheese slices. Ha!

Yes, the ones that come individually wrapped in plastic. (yuk). I'm not sure what made me begin to buy them in the first place because we just don't eat them in this house and nobody was eating them before Mark decided that he liked them. Who knows. Regardless of HOW he discovered that he liked them...he liked them. A lot of them. In fact, he could eat about 4 of them...one right after another. Before you think badly of me, let me just tell you that I only bought the best. Kraft! : )

All joking aside, Mark loved those cheese slices. I will never forget how he would shove them into his mouth just as quickly as we would give them to him. We thought that it was pretty funny that he would have the entire slice in his mouth...cheeks so fat...trying to chew...and would already be holding out his hand for another one while saying "cheese". Although, really, it sounded more like "chuelja;sljf ealj fe"... if you get my drift.

So, even though I don't have a picture of him eating the cheese...you can bet that in the picture above...he had already finished a few slices or he was about to. Most likely the latter, since he has no traces of it stuck to his face yet.

I can almost picture him standing in front of the fridge right now...waiting for the cheese. (sigh).

Why My Mommy Lies

2010-01-07T11:15:00.006-06:00

My Mom she tells a lot of lies
She never did before
But from now until the day she dies
She'll tell a whole lot more.

Ask my mom how she is
And because she can't explain
She will tell a little lie
Because she can't describe the pain.

Ask my mom how she is
And she'll say "I'm alright".
If that's the truth, then tell me
why does she cry each night?

Ask my mom how she is
She seems to cope so well
She doesn't have a choice you see
Nor the strength to yell

Ask my mom how she is
"I'm fine", "I'm well", "I'm coping"
For goodness sake mom, just tell the truth
Just say your heart is broken.

She'll love me all her life
I loved her all of mine
But if you ask her how she is
She'll lie and say she's fine.

I am here in Heaven
I cannot hug from here
If she lies to you I'll listen-
Hug her and hold her near.

On the day we meet again
We'll smile and I'll be bold
I'll say, "You're lucky to get in here, Mom
With all the lies you told"!

-unknown author

Sand baby

2010-01-02T11:20:00.002-06:00

This is what Mark was doing in January of 08...

(yes, we are at the beach...it was unusually warm that January...even for Texas!)

I can't say much...remembering is too emotional today. Christmas was especially difficult without him and I am exhausted from missing him. Since the girls and Joe have been home on break, the hole in our family where Mark should be is still so obvious.

I pray that this year I can begin to praise God more and more for all that He has given to me and not focus so much on what He took away.

My sleeping babies

2009-12-11T14:24:00.004-06:00

Having this precious baby...

reminds me of when Mark was a baby.

I love her.

I love him.

I miss him.

Thank you Abigail!!!

2009-12-10T09:16:00.002-06:00

Thank you to the wonderfully sweet, beautiful and talented Abigail Kraft for giving me such an awesome blog makeover!! I absolutely love it! Please visit her website here. She not only does web design, but she is also an incredible artist as well.

Abigail is a member of the Kraft Family...please meet this truly amazing family here. This precious bunch has lived through the loss of three children, and yet, they give God the glory for all that they have and all that they have been through. Mother, Lynnette, has written a book titled, "In Faithfulness, He Afflicted Me", and I have read it three times! Each time, I am comforted by the words of this loving, Godly woman who not only survived such tragedy, but is living a life filled with joy and happiness with her husband and surviving children. I encourage everyone to read this book, even if you have never suffered a great loss...you will gain new perspective on the pain that comes from losing a child.

Again, thank you Abigail!

Happy Anniversary

2009-12-06T18:45:00.002-06:00

Meet my husband Joe...my best friend and the love of my life. Today, we have been married for 12 wonderful years.

We have know each other since high school, but we weren't good friends until college. Once we started to date, I knew that he was the one for me! And, as much as I have ever heard God literally speak to me...it was when He told me that Joe was the one I would marry. In fact, I knew that I was going to marry Joe long before he knew that I was to be his wife! (I find that so funny!) Of course, he figured it out soon enough and we were married in 1997...the year that Joe graduated from college and began teaching elementary music.

Joe is the best daddy! The girls adore him, as did Mark. I always say that he is the "fun" parent of the two of us. Mostly, you will find him wrestling with the kids, teaching them an instrument of some kind, cooking with them making them laugh all of the time! He sometimes acts just like one of the kids!

The first 10 1/2 years of our lives together were almost straight from a fairy tale. It isn't that we didn't have our problems, but the days were full of love and joy with each other, our children and life in general. Mark's death certainly changed our marriage forever. I need Joe now more than ever and I wouldn't have made it this far without him. Sharing this bitter sorrow and the loving memories of our only son has brought us closer than I thought was possible. I am thankful to have this deeper relationship, but sorry for the price tag that came with it.

My husband is far from perfect...as am I, but he is perfect for me. I look forward to as many more years as God will give us together...loving each other, our girls and longing to see Mark again at the end of this journey.

If only...

2009-11-17T09:39:00.003-06:00

Dear Mark,

If only I could catch a glimpse of you in Heaven right now and see how happy you are...playing with other children, walking with Jesus, smiling and laughing even more sweetly than you did here - maybe I wouldn't be so filled with grief.

If only I could wrap my arms around you and kiss your chubby little cheek again...if only I could walk with you and hold your precious hand in mine -then I might not cry every day.

If only I could hear you say "Mama" again when you needed me and rock you to sleep while you snuggled your green blanket - maybe my heart wouldn't feel so broken.

If only you could be here to hold your new baby sister...to be a little brother and a big brother to all of these girls - then I wouldn't have to try to explain to them why you were taken from us and assure them that we will be okay even when I don't believe it.

If only you were here to run to the yard gate and hold it open for us like a little gentleman each time we came home - I wouldn't stop each time I walked through it and picture you standing there with that big grin on your face.

If only I could see you in your daddy's arms again...where you almost always were - then I wouldn't have to see your daddy cry when he looks at your picture or thinks about how much he misses you.

If only you were here to color on the walls and the couch with any crayon or pen that you could find...to throw things away in the trash can that shouldn't have been thrown away (i.e. remote controls and rented movies!) - I wouldn't even be upset. I now cherish the picture that you drew on Maryanna's door with a bright red marker and I hope it stays there forever.

If only you were here, I would be thinking of all of the great little boy toys that I could buy you for Christmas this year instead of welling up with sorrow each time I see toys or clothes that would be just perfect for you.

If only you could just be here for the holidays to celebrate with us...to eat turkey and mashed potatos and all of the pie that you wanted - I wouldn't have to stare at the empty place where you should be and quietly grieve in my heart while everyone else is smiling.

If only God would have allowed you to stay here with us longer than two years - we could have seen you grow into a fine young man, go to college, get married, have children of your own and enjoy your company for many years to come until Daddy and I left the earth BEFORE you...the way that it should be.

I know that none of this will be...but it helps me to imagine it. I know that this world holds nothing for you anymore. I pray that Heaven is everything that I imagine it to be and that your sweet soul is more alive now that it ever was here with us...I want to picture you there instead of your tiny body lying in the grave. It is such torture for me to be separated from your cuddly self.

Our hearts break each day that we live here without you...we are still reminded of you in everything that we do. Fifteen months has been too long to not have you in our arms or hear your voice. It isn't any easier now than it was when you left. I long for this life to pass in the blink of an eye so that we can all be together again forever.

I love you, love you, love you...my sweet baby boy.

Love,
Mommy

More pictures

2009-11-07T18:38:00.003-06:00

Maegan is doing very well...we are all enjoying the miracle of a newborn. Everything about her is so tiny and amazing.

I have been more emotional than usual since she arrived - partly due to postpartum hormones and also because having her just makes us miss Mark a little bit more.

Maryanna, Madison and Macy hold her as often as they possibly can.

We are so thankful for a healthy delivery and that we once again have the privilege of gazing into the beautiful face of a child sent straight from God.

Maegan Claire is here!

2009-11-04T10:19:00.002-06:00

Our baby girl is here!

Maegan Claire was born at 5:56 pm on Monday afternoon. She weighed 6lbs and 11 oz (the smallest of our five.)

She has the softest, most beautiful dark brown hair and her daddy's olive skin.

Her sisters are very proud! Mommy and Daddy are too!

Thank you for all of your prayers.

Monday, Monday

2009-10-29T07:26:00.003-05:00

Monday is the day!!! We will meet our baby girl!!!

Unless she decides to make her appearance before then, I will be induced on Monday, Nov. 2 at 6am. Please keep us in your prayers. Especially pray that our three big sisters will have peace during this time of adjustment...they are so excited, but have been through so much. I want them to feel all of the joy and excitement without the anxiety.

Big Brother

2009-10-26T10:12:00.009-05:00

Dear Mark,

Congratulations son! You are about to be a big brother! How I wish that you were in our picture here on earth. I can imagine you sitting next to me there in the grass with your sweet little hands on my belly. How wonderful it would be to have you here to welcome your new baby sister. We are so excited to meet her!

I often wonder if you have already met her...in heaven. Do you know more about her already than we ever will? Has God told you all about her and let you look at her sweet face? Have you seen all of the days of her life...of ours? Do you know when we will all see you again?

Your big sisters miss you...you will always hold a special place in their hearts. You will never be replaced by another child..you are our Mark and there is no other like you. There will never be a day here on earth that we won't long to have you back with us.

I am a little nervous about holding our new baby in my arms. It will bring back such sweet memories of you and how much I loved to rock you and snuggle you...it seems like yesterday. I will sing "You are My Sunshine" to her...just as I did to you not so long ago and I will cry. Will she ever understand our tears? She will grow to play with many of the toys that belonged to you...toys that have been packed away since you left us. It will all be so bittersweet.

Yes, you would have been able to teach her so many things if you were here as her big brother...I can only imagine! I long for the day that we will all be together; but until then, we will miss you and give your baby sister a little extra love that she would have received from you.

You will always be my baby boy. I love you.

Looking forward to Forever,

Mommy

My box

2009-10-15T08:51:00.006-05:00

I didn't wake up this morning expecting the flood of emotions that would hit me. These days, I can usually function better than I had ever expected that I would...mostly it is more about learning how to cope with the loss of Mark, instead of the pain actually lessening. I don't feel that the pain, anger or absurdity surrounding Mark's death has gone away...I only know that I am learning, very slowly, how to manage it. The only trouble with grief is that you never quite know when it is going to spill out of the nice box that has been made to contain it-the place deep inside that forms as a response to deep pain. The place reserved for all of the ugliness and rawness of grief.

My "box" started out plain and always open...tears started my morning, accompanied me all day and were especially intense at night . As the weeks and months pass, I have started to decorate my box...so that it is more presentable in public - a box that everyone is more comfortable with being around. Also, a box that I can take with me when I go out and see precious little boys running around or riding in the shopping carts at the store. The box even comes in handy at home now when I come across one of Mark's toys or lost socks. I have put a lock on my box for just such occasions. Oh, everything in the box is pounding and pushing and trying to get out, but the lock holds it in...most of the time.

Having my cup of coffee and my youngest daughter still in bed, I sat down at the computer to catch up on all of the blogs that I follow. Even with the first blog that I read, I learn that today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. Mark doesn't quite fit into this category, however, the pain of losing a child is the same pain. Always different circumstances, different families with different lives, but all with the same, very real pain.

It is true that most of the blogs that I follow have the same element of loss or trial and so, of course, today, most of the posts are tributes to the sweet children who aren't here with us anymore. From miscarriages and stillbirths to medical complications and cancer...so many parents have suffered the loss of a child. And, as I look at the pictures of their precious children, I see Mark in my mind...laughing, crying, running and hugging. I feel his arms around me and hear his sweet voice saying "Mama". I look over at our family picture that now does not include him sitting in my lap...and I begin to cry. And cry. The lock has failed on my "box" and the lid has been thrown wide open.

I decided to write this post...wanting to do something with all of the sadness, but knowing that there isn't any way that my words can really make anyone understand what it feels like, unless you have been there. As I struggle to make sense of it all, my dear Macy wakes up, climbs in my lap and wraps her loving arms around me...still half asleep and oblivious to the turmoil in her mother's heart. My tears slowly dry and I gather all of the grief that has spilled out and place it neatly in the box once again...until next time.

I love you Mark...I miss you.

Bereaved Parents Wish List

2009-10-09T08:14:00.005-05:00

Bereaved Parents Wish List

I wish my child hadn’t died. I wish I had him back.

I wish you wouldn’t be afraid to speak my child’s name. My child lived and was very important to me. I need to hear that he was important to you as well.

If I cry and get emotional when you talk about my child, I wish you knew that it isn’t because you have hurt me. My child’s death is the cause of my tears. You have talked about my child, and you have allowed me to share my grief. I thank you for both.

I wish you wouldn’t "kill" my child again by removing his pictures, artwork, or other remembrances from your home.

Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn’t shy away from me. I need you more than ever.

I need diversions, so I do want to hear about you; but I also want you to hear about me. I might be said and I might cry, but I wish you would let me talk about my child, my favorite topic of the day.

I know that you think of and pray for me often. I also know that my child’s death pains you, too. I wish you would let me know things through a phone call, a card or a note, or a real big hug.

I wish you wouldn’t expect my grief to be over in six months. These first months are traumatic for me, but I wish you could understand that my grief will never be over. I will suffer the death of my child until the day I die.

I am working very hard in my recovery, but I wish you could understand that I will never fully recover. I will always miss my child, and I will always grieve that he is dead.

I wish you wouldn’t expect me "not to think about it" or to "be happy". Neither will happen for a very long time so don’t frustrate yourself.

I don’t want to have a "pity party," but I do wish you would let me grieve. I must hurt before I can heal.

I wish you understood how my life has shattered. I know it is miserable for you to be around me when I’m feeling miserable. Please be as patient with me as I am with you.

When I say, "I’m doing okay," I wish you could understand that I don’t feel okay and that I struggle daily.

I wish you knew that all of the grief reactions I’m having are very normal. Depression, anger, hopelessness and overwhelming sadness are all to be expected. So please excuse me when I’m quiet and withdrawn or irritable and cranky.

Your advice to "take one day at a time" is excellent. I wish you could understand that I’m doing good to handle him at an hour at a time.

I wish you understood that grief changes people. When my child died, a big part of me died with him. I am not the same person I was before my child died, and I will never be that person again.I wish very much that you could understand – understand my loss and my grief, my silence and my tears, my void and my pain. But I pray daily that you will never understand.

-taken from Compassionate Friends (an organization for Bereaved Parents)

More Thoughts

2009-10-07T07:44:00.009-05:00

Do you know what these are??? These are the most amazing, flexible, coolest...I mean, these are the stickiest, messiest pieces of string that I have ever seen. Pieces of rainbow that can decorate just about anything and leave a waxy residue on everything that they touch. However, there is no denying that my children LOVE their BENDAROOS! (a present from Mom and Dad for Madison's 7th birthday this past April. Oh, and we didn't order them from the infomercial...Walgreens has a whole section of those "As seen on TV" things!) Aaaaaaaand, if you notice in the above picture...you get 500 of them in one box! Talk about non-stop fun.

It seems that once this "box of fun" has been opened, these wonderful, stick-to-anything strings become stuck to, yes, everything! And not just at the designated arts and crafts area...noooooooo. I find them on the walls, on the table, wrapped around old milk jugs that have been pulled from the recycling container and mostly, I find them stuck in the carpet. Yes, our house becomes one huge BENDAROOS canvas.

Which brings me to my point. Are you under the impression that I am opposed to these silly, over-priced pieces of fun that occasionally take over my house? Does it seem that I would like to just make the box magically disappear? The answer is no...absolutely not!

Honestly, before Mark died, my answer may have been "yes"! It probably would have depended on the day that you asked. With four children around the house...all 7 years and under...things got a little messy around here. Okay, things got a LOT messy around here. And there were definitely days that I would have just loved to have a house that was perfectly picked up and clean. Now, well, I still like a clean house, but I would much rather have a house that has evidence of children. Proof that I am living with three little miracles straight from Heaven.

Toys in every room...crumbs on the floor and even BENDAROOS in the carpet. It is all a reminder that I have children that God has blessed me with. Each dirty sock in the yard, empty yogurt container that didn't get thrown in the trash...every splatter of toothpaste on the bathroom mirror and each and every one of the kids 200 stuffed animals that grace each bedroom...well, they give me perspective like never before. They remind me that three of my children are still here with me!

Yes, I am so glad to have my children's belongings strewn all over the house. I only wish that Mark was still here to participate in the mess. As much as his sister's toys remind me how thankful I am to have them here with me, each of Mark's toys brings heartache. I would give anything to be washing sand from his hair and play-dogh from his shirt, picking up his building blocks that he would carry around everywhere, and cleaning the half-eaten fruit puffs from his high chair...not to mention the "artwork" that he made on the couch with a ball point pen! Oh, those sweet chubby hands that got into so much mischief. How I wish that I could hold them again. How I wish that he was here to hold me.

I miss him.

Thoughts...

2009-10-01T07:47:00.005-05:00

I wanted to share thoughts about my morning.

The breeze was blowing and the clouds were rolling. I don't normally walk outside with Joe and the girls as they leave for school...mostly I just watch them leave from the window. This morning, I walked them out, helped them get in the car and watched them drive away. I watched them until they drove so far down the road that I couldn't see them anymore. And then, I thought the same thought that I think almost every morning...what if that was the last time that I see my family in this life?

Life can change so suddenly, certainly without our permission or approval. When I think back to the day of Mark's accident, we were just carrying on as usual. Mark had taken his nap, he had eaten his snack and was just being his very active and cute self. It seemed that nothing could have ruined the great time that we were all having. Safe, responsible, in control...laughter, games, bike riding and sunshine. Who knew??? God knew.

Now, life is different. Reality is, well, real. So, each time I tell my husband and children goodbye, I will know that it may be the last time that I speak to them. Each morning, I will continue to watch them drive away and know a little better the pain of what it would be like to live here without them. Ultimately though, I will leave them in the hands of the One who knows them better than I ever will...the One who loves them more than I can...the One who knows every breath that each of us will take in this life...and the One who is holding my son, gazing upon the sweet face that I will see again soon.

Good days...Bad days

2009-09-19T14:01:00.008-05:00

My baby in the fall leaves...what a happy little guy.

Well, I started this post on Saturday...as you will see, but I just finished it this morning...

Saturday. A great day to reflect on another week that has flown by, it seems. Each day that passes is a day that takes me further away from the Mark of my past to the Mark that I will see once more in my future. Excruciating and exciting at the same time. This life would simply be pointless if we didn't have the promise of Heaven. In fact, as I drove this morning, I played "Finally Home", by Mercy Me, over and over again. It is one of a few songs that can get me so excited about Heaven that I can forget how painful life is right now...even if it is an escape for only a few minutes.

This "one day closer" to eternity is also a day closer to when we get to meet our new daughter. Now, if we could just come up with a name! Yes, it will start with the letter "M". :)

The week was a mixture of emotions. On Wednesday, I had such a good day. Macy and I went to story time at the library, then we played with friends and family at the park and even had some arts and crafts time at a place here in town that provides that for the kids once a month. Normally, I wouldn't put myself in such a position since there would be little boys that would remind me of Mark. This day, I decided to take the chance. And, what was so amazing about this day was the fact that I was able to hold myself together. I am pretty sure that it was the first time since Mark died that I was able to be around other toddler boys and not end up frozen in grief, unable to function. I was around little boys all day long! Honestly, seeing them play and hearing them did bring me the same stabbing feeling that it always does. It actually wasn't easy at all. But, I am so thankful that I am beginning to be able to move through those moments of intense pain a little more quickly that before. And, in between those sad times, I was able to enjoy the company of those that I was with instead of sitting in a fog and wishing that I was at home.

I really did have a good time and I felt refreshed and a bit renewed after we arrived home.

And then, there was Thursday. After such a great day on Wednesday, I was feeling like things were starting to get "easier" for me. It happens every so often from week to week. It was exciting to have had that small bit of relief from the constant sorrow. Throughout this entire last year, if at any time the pain eases a bit, I hold on to it with everything that I've got...hoping that the "okay" feeling will last longer than it did the last time it came around. So, that was how I felt in the early morning.

Later in the day, I was cleaning out some of the many, many things that have accumulated in Mark's room, which we now use as our multi-purpose room. We have long since put away all of his toys and clothes, although we left it painted the cute blue with the tractor border on the wall. We also have a shelf in there with some of his special things. I don't see us changing any of that any time soon.

So, anyway, as I was sorting through the big box that I keep all of my children's special pictures, cards and all of the other things that they create that I cannot bear to throw away, I got to the bottom and found a stack of Mark's things that I had not seen in a long time. His sonogram pictures when I was pregnant with him, the papers that he got from his doctor check ups that have his weight and height, the hospital bracelet that I wore when he was born and even a picture that he colored in Sunday School a few months before he died. Needless to say, I lost it. Big. So big that I was actually hyperventilating from crying so hard. I even went outside and screamed...something that I haven't done in a long time. It all just caught me off guard and it left me feeling so vulnerable and weak. Lately, I have dealt with the grief in small doses...each day, a little here and a little there. This was more like the dam broke and I was being flooded with feelings that I couldn't control.

And so, this is how it is. For me, and for so many who have lost someone so close, although I can really only speak for myself. The smiles in public may come a little more easily, but they are still a way to cover the sadness. I am grateful to now know how to help those in my situation...I only wish that I could have learned this lesson in some other way.

Looking forward to Heaven,

Angie

Memories...

2009-09-08T13:55:00.004-05:00

I actually just found this picture from last summer's vacation. I love it. I am usually behind the camera.
We were at the Grand Canyon and I wouldn't let Mark down, lest he fall of a cliff! I guess that they can't fence the whole thing!

Mark was hardly ever without his pacifier...we didn't care.

My two handsome boys!

This is our "Mark the Shark". We loved that nickname for him last summer. We found these super cute lifejackets and just had to have them. A shark for Mark and a goldfish for Macy.

This is a really difficult picture for me to look at since he was wearing this lifejacket just minutes before his accident. It reminds me how much he loved the water.

Mark was the best little brother ever. His sisters sure do miss him.

What I wouldn't give to be able to give him more "joosh", as he called it, and look into those beautiful brown eyes.

I miss him.

The good...and the not so good

2009-09-03T09:02:00.008-05:00

I'll start with the "not so good".

This has just been a cruddy week. Not as though there are any especially great weeks anymore, but there are different levels of what can be considered cruddy. Even when everything in day to day life is going as well as it possibly can, grief doesn't leave...pain doesn't take a vacation...thoughts don't turn off and tears don't dry up. Cruddy.

The only exception to this "not so good week" was Maryanna's 9th birthday on Tuesday. I was reminded all day how our lives changed forever as we became parents for the very first time 9 years before. As anyone who has children knows, the blessing of parenthood far surpasses almost all else in this life.

I am reading a book titled, "Beyond Tears...living after losing a child". It was written by several women who have all lost children. Reading this and so many other books is a great comfort to me, as are the blogs that I mentioned in my previous post. I read the words on the page and can hardly believe that they describe me in almost every way. They can say the things that I would like to be able to tell my friends and family when I am asked, "How are you?". When I try to describe all that races in my mind, I don't even come close to being able to convey it to others.

For example, here is how these women describe a small part of their grief...

"We were filled with rage and yet we felt hollow. Our eyes brimmed with tears and yet they were empty. We could scream but speech came rarely, if at all. We were in excruciating pain and yet we were numb. Our self-esteem was beaten down and our trust shattered, but there was no one who could console us. There was no place to feel secure. We tried to crawl inside ourselves, but even that afforded us no place to hide. It was if our very being died along with that of our children. We were and remain forever changed."

also...

"The anguish of losing a child pollutes every close relationship. It seeks to destroy our ties to our spouses, to our remaining children, to our parents, to cherished friends, to everyone close to us. Each tie is torn to shreds and brutally examined under a high-powered microscope before it can be pieced back together. In some cases, the pieces will never again mesh and the bond will break. Those relationships that survive will be forever changed because we are changed. We are never the same people we were before the death. The person we become has to learn anew to love and live with those we loved and lived with before, or perhaps to go a separate way. The death becomes a giant black hole in our midst."

I find almost all of this to be very true in my situation. All, with the exception of the strain on my marriage and with my surviving children. In other words, my husband, the girls and I all grieve at different times and none of us are emotionally stable enough to help anyone else in the family, but we have not turned on one another...instead, we now feel safer with each other than I thought was possible. The love that I have for my husband has multiplied. We share the same hurt and the same loss of the son that we love so much. We share in the same hope and promise that we will be reunited with him in the future. Mark's death is definitely not what I would have chosen to strengthen my family and marriage, but God knows.

More thoughts...

As a matter of theology and Bible interpretation, in all of these months, I have not been able to decide what I will believe about Mark's accident and death. Just an accident due to this fallen world that we live in and our imperfect nature? Or, God's will, plan and purpose for our sweet Mark to only be here on the earth two years?

Well, for today anyway, I have decided. I have decided that God knows this emotional torture that we are going through. And, I cannot believe that God would let anyone go through this unless it was a part of His plan and purpose. Even though I believe that God gives us free will to make our own choices and make our own mistakes, when it comes to the finality of death, I think that God is the only one who can make that decision. Even when it comes to evil...murder, etc. Somehow, God is in charge and I choose to believe that Mark was only supposed to be here for two years. No matter what we did or didn't do, it was Mark's time to leave for reasons that we may never know until Heaven. I can accept this more easily that God just allowing it to happen and bringing good from it, even though it wasn't in His plan.

In my case, I choose to believe this so that I can let go of blame and guilt and try and find forgiveness. For myself and for all of my loved ones who were there at the time of the accident. The player in my head that never stops can come up with a new scenario each and every day that will go through another "if only she...", "had he not..., or "we should have...", etc. I can't live with it anymore. And truly, I wish it were as easy to turn the player off as I can make it sound as I write it, but I know that it will take time. In fact, I have to choose every day what voices to listen to and what to believe. Some days it is easier to believe the truth than others.

Well, on to the "good".

Many of you who read this blog actually know me and my family and see us on a regular basis. Some of you know us, but rarely, if ever, see us. And, of course, some of you have never met us. So, this will only be news to some.

We are, by the grace of God, expecting our fifth child in November. Yes, only two months from now. I have had a difficult time deciding when and if to post the news, simply because it is so bittersweet. Bittersweet is an absolute understatement at that.

After Mark died, Joe and I prayed and prayed about whether we should try and bring another child into this world. Our love for children is so great and we knew that it would be such a blessing, but, when? So soon after our loss? Should we try and "heal" some first? Would that even happen? So many questions that really didn't have a good answer.

Mark was my baby...the diapers, the pacifiers, the 24/7 of it all. As that was ripped away from me, all I wanted to do was fill it...anything to ease the pain. The thought of having another baby was about the only thing that brought even an ounce of comfort. Having a child that we would love every bit as much as our other four...and being able to look at that baby and know that he/she wouldn't be in our lives had Mark not died was a glimmer of hope. Since we couldn't have Mark back, we were desperately trying to force ourselves to begin the process of moving on.

So, here we are...about to have our 4th girl! And, no, we have no idea what we are going to name her. :) It is hard to find the balance between missing Mark and looking forward to a precious new child joining our family...those are new issues to deal with in addition to all that deals with Mark's death. However, there are no regrets in this decision and we have found joy in the anticipation of her arrival...especially her sisters! They live for the daily kicks and squirms from my growing belly.

I only wish that somehow, the arrival of our baby girl could somehow erase the pain of losing her brother...I know it isn't so. The happiness and grief will continue to co-exist for the rest of our lives.

And, as I have read several places, when you experience the worst that the world has to offer, your capacity to appreciate the good in increased. So, I anticipate that there won't be many moments that I take for granted anymore. For that, I am thankful.

Thanks for reading,

Mark's Mommy

My links to "normal"

2009-08-26T09:38:00.003-05:00

Here I am, relieved to have gotten through the anniversary of Mark's death. It definitely isn't any easier a year later, just different. There is no "moving on" or "getting through" all of the pain...only missing Mark. Time will forever be frozen for us even though the rest of the world marches on and we too have to live out the rest of our lives here. But, oh, the promise of heaven. When I can focus on the reality of spending eternity with our Savior and with Mark, peace washes over my soul.

Every part of me has suffered for a year and my spiritual being is no exception. It is glaringly obvious to me now where I need to grow in Christ...re-learn and re-believe so many truths that I never would have doubted until now. Hard to admit and even harder to know where to begin when you feel like you are starting all over.

What I do know is that I treasure the following verses:

From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him.

"You do not want to leave too, do you?" Jesus asked the Twelve.

Simon Peter answered him, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We believe and know that you are the Holy One of God."

John 6:66-69

And so, that is where I am. Who else can I turn to but to God? Who else can give me the promise of eternal life and the assurance that my Mark is more alive than he ever was here with us? Only God. Only through the blood of Jesus Christ.

No matter how badly I feel on any given day, I choose to believe all that the Bible says. I don't understand it all, but I don't think that God expects us to.

I want to leave you with a list of many links to the blog sites that have helped me so much this past year. Most of these blogs are written by parents who have lost a child. They have been a lifeline to my sanity in more ways than one. Grief is a lonely place...especially when you can't personally talk to someone who has been almost in the same place as you are.

Through these blogs, I can feel a bit more "normal"...whatever that is...even if it is just for a short time. I see that I am not the only one who is suffering through the loss of a child. In everyday life, I feel pretty isolated in my sadness; that nobody understands what it is really like to be in my shoes. And I suppose most people don't, and that really is a good thing. But, reading the thoughts and feelings of someone who has or is in a similar situation brings comfort.

That being said, I also want to say that I cherish each and every one that I do know who takes the time to listen, even when it makes them uncomfortable and they have no idea what to say. It means so much to know that people care and they are hurting with us as much as someone can who hasn't been through it.

So, if you have time, check out these blogs and pray for these parents as well as for us.

Looking up in the downpour- http://www.lookingupinthedownpour.blogspot.com/
Tidbits of a journey... - http://www.michellezieg.blogspot.com/
Todd Stocker's Weblog - http://toddstocker.wordpress.com/
Sumi's Corner - http://sumijoti.wordpress.com/
Larger than Life - http://www.largerthanlife-masonnance.blogspot.com/
Nitty. Gritty. - http://www.jodyferlaak.blogspot.com/
Dancing Barefoot on Weathered Ground - http://www.lynnettekraft.blogspot.com/
My Charming Kids - http://www.mycharmingkids.net/

Missing my son,
Angie

Back from vacation

2009-08-01T21:43:00.004-05:00

As the month of August begins, I find myself wishing that I could go to bed and not wake up until September. August 4th will be one year since Mark's accident and the 10th will be one year since his death. Both of those days and the week in between were the end of life as we knew it. Getting through his birthday was especially difficult, but no matter how sad it was...night still came and then it was over. A fellow blogger who recently lost his teenage daughter puts it best when he says that his daughter is now a part of his past and his future, even if she isn't a part of his present. I like to think about that and the truth in it. Mark isn't a part of our "present" and there isn't anything that we can do about that. However, he is a part of our future and that is certain.

We have been gone for the last couple of weeks on vacation. New York City, Niagara Falls and some other fun places. The girls had a lot of fun...although they didn't like all of the walking that we did. I guess that I didn't either. Of course, we saw so many little boys that reminded me of Mark and that is always hard for me. I feel safest in my house, away from the world, but most of the time, that is not realistic. It still seems so unfair that he isn't with us anymore. I know that it is my fleshly nature speaking and not the spiritual. I trust my God and that He has everything in control, but it doesn't erase the pain.

I'm not sure how or why we planned this year's vacation at the same time that we were on vacation last year with our girls and our precious Mark, but nevertheless, I had a hard time not thinking about all that we were doing at this time last July. The fact that we were absolutely oblivious to the fact that we were going to lose Mark in just two short weeks just blows my mind. We were seeing the Grand Canyon, the Hoover Dam and all of the desert in between. That is what is so crazy about life...you just never know what is going to happen tomorrow.

We had so much fun with Mark last summer...it was filled with memories and I am glad for that. Although, the sweet memories make me miss him even more. Each picture makes my arms ache for him even more.

I have heard the saying many times that circumstances such as these will either make you bitter or better. Oh, how I want to be better. I wish that I could be better...a better person, a better Christian. Maybe that will come in time. Right now, I am still bitter. It takes no effort to be sad and wallow in self-pity, however, it does take an enormous amount of energy to pull yourself out of depression and the negative thoughts.

I most likely try to do too much of it on my own rather than giving it over to God. And, even though I have let many things go and given them to God over the past year, I have decided that it must be more of a slow process than an "all at once" kind of thing. Two steps forward and one back.

I'm not sure how to let it all go and move forward. Time is still frozen for us as the world keeps spinning and we have to get up and function every day. Each day is like living on the edge of going insane, and yet, there are still so many happy times that I am thankful for. If only I could make sense of it all.

Stick with me as I continue to heal...it is happening slowly, but I am confident that as much as one can heal from such a loss, I will. We will...someday.

Happy Birthday Son

2009-07-10T06:56:00.004-05:00

Happy Birthday Mark...words aren't enough to tell you how much we love you and miss you.

God IS in control

2009-07-03T06:47:00.004-05:00

This picture was taken in July of last year...just a few weeks before Mark's accident. It has been so difficult for me to look through the pictures of last summer, because they are what remind me of Mark the most...the way he was growing up into such a sweet and loving little boy.

This is the Mark that I hugged and cuddled every morning after he would crawl out of his crib and come and find me...still with a paci in his mouth. (Notice...in the picture, he is holding his paci in his hand because I asked him to take it out and smile!) These are the memories that are so fresh in my mind of all of the joy that came from having our four children here with us.

Maryanna and Madison attended Camp Agape, a children's bereavement camp, this past weekend. We are so thankful that our friends told us about the camp and helped us with all of the details of it. Our girls were able to be with other children who have suffered a significant loss in their lives. They swam, kayaked, rode ponies, did arts and crafts and so much more. They were also able to meet with a counselor to work through more of the pain and grief...something that both of the girls needed.

It was hard for us to leave them for 4 days so far away from us, but we knew that they were in good hands. They were each "buddied" with a teen or adult who was with them 24 hours a day. (and our girls got to be buddied with our family friends who are so involved with the camp and whom our girls love very much!) :)

Joe and I were also able to meet with a wonderful couple from our church this past week...a couple that we consider our mentors. God has put them in our lives to be the voice of sanity for us at this time when nothing makes sense in our minds. They reminded us of God's great love for us, for our children, specifically for Mark. I admit that I have had a hard time feeling God's love for me during all of this and I have had a hard time feeling that God did what was best. How can Mark's death be what was best for him and for us? It is embarrassing to confess that I would ever feel that my love could be better for my children than the love of our Lord, but I think that we just feel that as humans sometimes. Mark was entrusted to us, and I have been angry that God took him back.

These are the thoughts that constantly fill my mind...day after day. As time passes, I can begin to distinguish what is truth and what is a lie. But honestly, truths that seemed so clear a year ago, all changed, (in my mind), in an instant when Mark died. It is hard to explain.

Another truth that our dear mentors reminded us of was that even though it may seem contrary to everything that we feel, Mark's death is somehow what is best for us. We may not ever understand it or accept it, but God does know what he is doing. We have to trust that HE knows best. We may be left with the pain of trying to carry on without our precious son here, but Mark is in the presence of Almighty God at this very moment...in perfectness. Just thinking about it makes me want to be there right now. I can hardly wait.

Since I have struggled with all that I have believed, I admit that I have even doubted the existence of God, heaven, the truth of the Bible, etc. I don't like to admit that either, but it is the truth. "Before"...I would have been the first to try and encourage someone going through a tragedy that these things happen to everyone and that horrible things don't change who God is, etc., etc., etc. I would have meant every word too. Now, "after", the line between what I "know" and what I "feel" has become so blurred. But, I am happy to say that as the days go by, I am strengthening my faith more and more and I do know that all of God's Word is true. A faith that is built on who God IS and not what I want Him to be or what I want Him to do for me.

What would be the point of living at all if this was all some kind of random occurrence that led to nothingness when we die? What a depressing thought. No, even if I doubt sometimes because of the great pain, I will always believe that there is a God, He loves me, sent Jesus to die for me and that He is in control...no matter what happens in this short time that we call "life".

And, in this short time that we have left...I will miss Mark.

I wonder...

2009-06-18T08:29:00.001-05:00

Mark's birthday is coming up and I have been more than a little preoccupied thinking about it. Less than a month away...our little man would have been 3.

I wonder what kind of birthday party we would have had for him...I wonder what kind of toys we would have bought him. I keep seeing the cutest shoes and clothes that would have looked so handsome on him. He was so young while we had him here, but there were so many things that we had already "planned" on him doing as he grew. So many things that we noticed on other boys or in the store that we mentally pictured Mark doing those things or looking that way. I think about what he would be learning about Jesus in Sunday School and at home and all of the little projects of his that I don't have on my refrigerator. I keep reminding myself that he knows more about God that we do now and I find that comforting.

I wonder how much he would be talking these days...I loved the way he said "Momma", especially when we wanted him to say "Daddy". It was a big game to him and it was so funny. He was trying so hard to say his sisters' names and we knew what he was saying...even though it didn't sound much like their actual names. One of his favorite words was "cheese" because he absolutely LOVED the sliced, American cheese. He would eat three in a row if we let him. And, sometimes we did because he enjoyed it so much! But, for the most part, he didn't talk much because he had three older sisters that spoke for him...he just had to point and he got what he wanted. Oh, how we spoiled him.

He would probably be in a big boy bed now...in his tractor room. His Daddy chose the tractor border for his room before he was born and it is so cute. We also painted the room blue...there was no doubt that we wanted that color after so many "girly" rooms.

I wonder how much fun he would be having this week at VBS at church. I see all of his little friends playing and laughing and I picture him there with them...running in the grass, eating snacks, playing on the playground.

How have I changed for the better? How has anyone who knows us changed? I want to know that God is working through our loss...in us, in our family and friends...even in people who may not know us well.

Most days, I don't feel like any good has come from this awful accident. The world didn't change, we don't have our son with us anymore and it just stinks! I suppose that more time needs to pass to discover some of God's plan for all of this.

I am trying hard to focus on the girls and how much joy they bring to our lives. Every day is a blessing with them and they are a constant reminder of how good life can be. It has never been a struggle to feel thankful to God for all of the goodness that He brings to my life until now. Now, I know that the blessings and goodness are no less real or "good" than they were before...they just have to compete for a place in my heart amidst the pain these days.

I long for Heaven and it seems so far away...but, then again, we just never know.

You are My Sunshine

2009-06-09T08:07:00.013-05:00

Here is my "sunshine" standing in the sunshine.

This picture was taken on Easter of last year. I will let you all know that I have so many more recent pictures of Mark...especially from last summer, but they are so hard to look at that I can't bring myself to post them quite yet.

"You are My Sunshine", is a song that I have been singing to my children from the time that they were born...most especially when they were very small and I rocked them. Macy still likes for me to sing it to her almost every night, although, I have a difficult time getting through it without crying.

As Mark grew to be a toddler, he didn't want to be rocked to sleep much, even though I tried almost every night. I just loved the cuddle time and I knew how fast they grow up. I was still singing this song to him last year, on the rare occasion that he would let me rock him.

Almost every song has a different meaning after someone you love has died. I used to love this song because it told my children how important they are to me. Now, while that is still true, the words mean more than they ever did.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,
You make me happy when skies are gray.
You'll never know dear, how much I love you,
Please don't take my sunshine away.

The other night, dear, while I lay sleeping,
I dreamed I held you in my arms.
When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken,
And I hung my head and cried.

Every night, when I dream about Mark and about holding him in my arms...I miss him.

The wonderful outdoors

2009-06-05T12:47:00.006-05:00

I absolutely love this picture of Mark. Not only is he wearing the cutest plaid shorts, (which I could write a whole post about), but it captures his adorable, spunky personality in one shot. He isn't crying...he is yelling in his "Tarzan-like" roar.

It just doesn't seem at all possible that he isn't outside playing right now. He loved to be outside.

One activity that he particularly enjoyed was watering the garden...and my flowers...well, and his sisters! No really, he did love the water hose. He could sense that the water hose was on from a mile away and he would run and grab it out of my hands so that he could be mommy's big helper.

I have missed him most especially these past couple of weeks as I have been watering the garden and thinking how he should be here helping me. I am lonely as I think about him standing there so patiently watering every single plant. There was something so special about having a son.

My daughters are each unique and perfect in their own way and nothing will ever change that. I love everything about them. But, there was something different about having a little boy. He was a mommy's boy and I loved every second of it.

When he was a baby, people would ask us all of the time if it was "different" having a son after all of those daughters. It really wasn't. He was quite the same as our other children were as babies. But, when he became a toddler, everything changed. You know, he started "driving" every toy car and tractor in the house, he would knock his sisters block towers down just to irritate them, and he even found a ball point pen once and wrote all over the couch! (I now regret being able to wash most of that out. I wish I had left it just the way it was so that I could look at it now.)

He was just...so boyish. And like I said before...he was mommy's boy. Don't tell my husband though...he thinks that Mark was a daddy's boy. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Mark was almost permanently attached to my husband's hip. Well, I guess he was just that loving of a son. We miss him so much.

such a blessing

2009-06-02T13:08:00.014-05:00

I want to thank everyone who has left such loving comments on the blog, my email and on facebook. I didn't really know what to expect from this new experience, but I am thankful to have such wonderful friends and family and I am happy to meet new people who are so caring. You are all such a blessing to me .

I was so unaware of this entire "blogging" world. I knew that it existed, but I just hadn't looked into it much. And then Mark died...and well, I started to search. Search for anything and anyone that could identify with what I was going through. I have found so many people sharing all of the pain and heartache that they are experiencing in their lives and it saddens me at the same time that it comforts me to know that I am not the only one feeling this way. As far as starting my own blog...I never thought that I would, but now that I have, I do hope that it helps in some of the healing.

I'll apologize now if my thoughts ever seem scattered in any of my posts...sometimes there is just so much in my mind, I may not make it all flow together smoothly.

As I get better at all of this and figure out how to put more things on my page, I will post links to some of the wonderful blogs that have been so helpful to me in the past couple of months. Women who have such strong faith in God and His goodness and families who have suffered much and come through it all with joy after such sorrow. I am encouraged by all of these inspiring stories because, even though I cannot see the end of this grief...apparently, it is there, somewhere. Surely, it will take a long time to get through this, not over it...that will never happen. Still, to think that there might be a day when I don't hurt every moment is something to look forward to.

But, enough about that...now on to other things.

I will share with you that this morning started out like all other mornings, except that my husband took off today, which makes us all very happy! Anyway, the girls woke up very pleasant and happy and we all ate breakfast and got ready for the day. I needed to run a couple of errands in town and so I left my husband and the girls at home and started off. The first thing that usually saddens me on an "outing" are all of the songs that are on our K-Love Christian radio station. I mean, every other song makes me cry...really. Most of the time, I just try to keep it together because the girls don't like seeing me upset, but when I am by myself, well, I can't help it. Fortunately, today they didn't play any of the songs that really get to me, but no matter what song it is...it means something completely different than it did nine months ago. I can picture my own situation in each one.

Since I had to drive to a different town, I passed the cemetery where Mark's body is buried. Today, I blew him a kiss and tried to remember that he is in Heaven and not there. But, I loved every part of his sweet little self. That is what I cuddled, that is what I kissed and hugged, that is what I rocked to sleep at night and dressed in the most adorable clothes. It is hard to separate his little soul and his little body in my mind. They are supposed to go together. So, I haven't yet resolved that issue in my mind. I do usually stop, but I decided not to today. I don't find that it helps in any way. Our girls like to go, but for me and my husband, it is just too hard. It is so unnatural and wrong to see his precious name on the grave marker. It brings back all of the visions of him in the casket and the memorial service. Images that are hard enough to get out of my head on a normal day, but even harder when we are there.

So, I went on through my first errand, and then I needed to stop at the wonderful Hobby Lobby. What a great store. I try not to go in too often since I am always tempted to buy something, but I needed a couple of things for a graduation gift. Anyway, as it so happened, there was a precious toddler boy crying and crying as his mother carried him through the store. I literally froze. It happens almost every time I see a toddler boy or hear one. My mind flooded with memories of Mark and how he sounded when he cried and talked...and it hurt. I mean, it HURT. My body physically hurt and ached to have Mark back with me.

It is also quite amazing that I can "see" Mark in almost any little boy that I look at. For each child being so unique and special, they all look so much the same too...precious. Most of the time, I have to just look away so that I can finish whatever task it is that I am out to do in the first place. Otherwise, my grief is overwhelming.

I made it home without any further incident. As I pulled up to the house and saw my husband and daughters playing in the backyard, I reminded myself to be thankful for all that God has given me. It has taken some time to even consider being thankful for anything and most of the time, I really don't feel thankful about anything...I don't take for granted what wonderful blessings I still have on this earth, but they are grossly overshadowed right now by sorrow. Grief can make all of the usually special things in life seem so insignificant and it really takes work to see the value in life. I know that if you have experienced this kind of pain, you know what I am talking about. For those of you who haven't...well...I'm glad.

Speaking of that, I wonder how many of us really HAVE experienced such pain. I know that I hadn't until now. My life has certainly had some ups and downs that are of great significance, but nothing like this. I didn't know what it was like to hurt this much. Even if I tried as hard as I could, nothing that I could ever imagine even came close to what it is really like. But, now I know. I have an entirely new perspective on life and an entirely new way at looking at people. People that are hateful...people that commit awful crimes...people that just do things that cause other people pain. I can see how easily someone can become that kind of person. Believe me, I am not in any way excusing people who do awful things and I am definately not saying that I would ever commit a crime or ever try and cause anyone harm. What I am saying is that those people have probably lived through some awful pain. That is when life becomes blurred and you have to choose to take the path of healing or take the path of destruction. Something has to be done with all of the emotions inside and it is not hard to decide to transfer that hurt on someone else. Sometimes, you just can't help it. There were days right after Mark died that my mind drifted to places that scared me. Just thinking thoughts that weren't rational. I guess that it still happens sometimes, but not to the degree that some people take it. My prayer is that I am not hurting others in my despair. My prayer is for complete healing. I just wish it was instant.

Wow, I hope that came across like I meant for it to.

The picture below was taken about two months before Mark's accident. It was always so difficult to get all four of the kids looking at the camera at the same time...much less smiling at the same time. So, this picture is special to me...and the look on Mark's face is just too sweet for words. Which makes it even harder for me to look at...it reminds me that I don't have him anymore. In fact, I am far from being comforted by all of the hundreds of pictures that we have of him, unfortunately. I can't stand it that I can't kiss that sweet face of his anymore. I hope that one day I will be able too look at all of the pictures and smile as I remember all of the memories that we made with him. For now, I can't.

I haven't mentioned yet how terribly Mark's big sisters miss him. Their world has been shattered too and I don't know how to pick up the pieces. They are so heartbroken and they just don't understand why something so terrible would happen to their baby brother. I am trying to be "well" so that they will know that we will all be okay. There are times that I'm not so sure. Truly, in my heart, I know that God will never leave us and that all things work for the good of those who love Him. We do love HIM. So, even when I don't feel like we are going to make it through, I hope that I can remember that I KNOW that we will.

Every waking moment of the day...I miss Mark.

Our son

2009-05-27T20:41:00.033-05:00

This is our son, Mark...

Here is his story...

Mark was born on July 10, 2006. He became the first, and only, son to two adoring parents and the little brother of three adoring big sisters. Our lives were absolutely full of joy and we felt complete. Mark was a very happy and loving boy.

In August of 2008, our family took a camping trip with several of our extended family...grandparents, cousins, in-laws and more! Ten adults and nine children having a wonderful time playing games, swimming and riding bikes.

Several of the adults and children were far away from the campsite swimming in the shallow area of the lake while everyone else was up at the pavilion playing games with the children. Mark was at the campsite scooting his trucks around in the dirt...under the watch of several adults, as well as one specific family member who had taken primary responsibility for watching him at that time. He was as happy and content as he could be.

As sometimes happens, the cousins were playing together and got into a minor scuffle. Certainly nothing unusual for a few 7 and 8 year olds, but since there was a bit of crying and a minor boo-boo, it drew everyone's attention to that situation. None of us will ever know why, but in those few moments, Mark snuck away while everyone was distracted. He walked behind one of the campers and started down a hill behind the campsite where he couldn't be seen. He went to a small inlet area of water at the bottom of the hill. It was shallow enough for him to walk in, but he must have lost his footing and not been able to stand up.

Just a minute later...in the midst of whatever was still going on at the campsite, I came up from where we had been swimming and immediately asked where Mark was. It was at that moment that everyone realized that he was missing. They couldn't believe that he wasn't there. In fact, I was later told that everyone had just seen him and they told me how shocked they were because he was "just here". We all started running in different directions from the campsite, but I was the one who found him. God only knows why I was the one who had to find him. The images on my sweet baby lying lifeless in the water still replays over and over in my head...every day.

I ran to him and scooped him up from the water. I had started to scream the second that I saw him and so my husband was there to take him from me by the time I got him out. My husband breathed into Mark's mouth and then handed him over to those who began CPR. He still wasn't breathing when the EMS arrived.

I knew at that moment, my life was forever changed...all that I could do was cry and scream that God would not let him die. I felt like I would die myself at any moment...it was like I was looking in on this tragedy and it wasn't really happening to us.

Mark was air lifted to the hospital where he remained for a week, without regaining consciousness. On August 11, after the doctors assured us that there was no chance that Mark would recover, we removed the life support from our baby and he died in his daddy's arms. There is no way to describe the horror of that moment. I look back now and wish that I had been at peace, but all that I could do was scream and yell at God. I pounded the bed with my fists and cried so hard that I thought I would die from heartache. I was able to hold Mark for a couple of hours before I had to face the world without him.

Deep down, we had thought that God would heal our baby and leave him here with us. The thought of losing him was too excruciating to imagine. Even to the last minute, we had faith that God would perform a miracle. And He could have...but he didn't.

All that I wanted was to go with him. At times, I still wish that I could already be there with him. It doesn't mean that I don't love my husband and daughters with all of my heart, but it is just that I miss Mark so much. There are no words for the emotional pain and torture that we have been through since Mark's death. I don't know how to live through this kind of sorrow and I am very much lost right now. The thought of living here for the rest of my life without him is overwhelming.

The "whys" of this senseless accident keep me awake at night and consume me every moment of the day. How did this happen? I certainly never thought that it would happen to us. But it did. It happened to the parents who love their children more than anything in this world...to the parents who do everything to keep their children safe...to US! It didn't matter that we have spent every moment since we first had children doing everything in our power to protect and love our kids. It STILL happened! We are not perfect and I will never claim to be, but if it happened to us, it can happen to anyone. God has shown us that He is in control and we are not.

I can't place blame on those who were watching him so diligently. Not even on the one family member who had vocalized that they "had him". (You know, "do you have him?"..."yes, I have Mark".)

No, there is no blame, because accidents just happen. There was no neglect, no irresponsibility or wrongdoing. Just an accident. Or God's will. One day we will know.

None of it makes sense and I know that it all must just be a terrible dream that is going to end. Only, every day I wake up and realize that he is gone and my arms ache for him. They ache fiercely to hold my son. I can remember every silly face, every word, every hug and every other sweet part of my baby boy. It is all so wrong for him to be gone.

I do pray that God will choose to show me why we are having to suffer so much, but I also know that our sovereign and mighty God doesn't owe me an explanation. As Job so beautifully acknowledges..."The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised."

Job 1:21b

Until I see Mark again...I will miss him.