I don't have the heart.....

I remember a long time ago, I was strong and in charge of my emotions. I had a stiff upper lip and was pretty good at not letting things getting to me, I didn't like to lose control of my self. And practically nothing could make me cry.

Now anything can.

Grief has completely transformed my heart, its weakened it, and broken down the protective walls I built around it, its rendered me completely unable to rein in my emotions, I feel out of control.

My eyes have changed too, now I can see all the loss and pain and sadness in the world, and my heart breaks a million times a day, for other women and for other families. I feel their losses deeply and personally, I can imagine their emotions vividly, I can visualize it happening to me, because it has, and time and time again I feel horrible pain and sadness for the losses of others.

I just don't have the heart I used to. I don't have the strength to hold back tears and emotions, I don't have the will to try. I feel everything deeper and stronger, from love, to pain and also fear. Becoming aware of how common the loss of a child is in he world through losing one of your own is like developing a heightened sixth sense. On top of being able to hear, see, smell, taste and touch, I am now incredibly perceptive to grief and despair caused by missing a child you'll never hold again.

Katie

Coming down...

It seems I've been riding high the past couple of days, I've been holding up a wall blocking out all negative things and have been feeling pretty good. These things of course, cannot last forever. This morning I feel like I'm coming down. I've got a lump in my throat and tears burning behind my eyes, just waiting to break free. I'm tired of holding back and ignoring the sadness triggers. Here are some of the things I've been holding back the past few days....

A friend of mine just had beautiful twin girls, I'm happy for her, but I'm jealous too. I know the joy and excitement she's experiencing right now, and I miss it, I want it back.

I just read about a woman who delivered her baby girl, stillborn, the hospital didn't let her hold her baby or take any pictures and my heart breaks for them. I know how valuable these things are and how precious those moments and those pictures would have been, how healing they could have been. My heart hurts just thinking about it.

Twins are everywhere, I know several ladies expecting twins, and yet the odds of conceiving identical twins like we did, is 1 in 285. I'm unlikely to ever have the pleasure again, and it makes the fact that I conceived my beautiful boys even more miraculous. The fact that I had beautiful identical twin boys and then lost one is all the more painful when you think of the odds.

People mention twins so casually to me, not realizing that the word itself is like a weapon, and each time it non-nonchalantly rolls off someones tongue it physically hurts. It stings, I feel like I flinch when I hear it though it must only be in my head. I guess it wouldn't normally occur to someone that I'm not comfortable talking about other peoples twins, or twins around the world, but I'm not. I don't want to hear someone joke about how So and So is so big she must be having twins, or how your second cousin's girlfriend is having twins, or how your grandmother had twins, no matter how casually you (you in general) say it, no matter how airy and light our conversation has been, if you can avoid using the word twins, please do. Unless you want to see me close up like a clam shell.

I took Landon to the Dr. last week to have her check his growth and development. He's rather small, and a picky eater, so its better to check and be sure he's healthy. When I expressed my concerns about having healthy children she buoyantly exclaimed (in a manner meant to be reassuring) "You make beautiful healthy children!". What!? What about the one who died? You know, the one with the serious heart defects? The one who underwent two open heart surgeries and still could not be healed? How quickly the world forgets. I love our family Dr, she's amazing and kind, but I'm not sure she grasps the depth of our grief or our fears over the health of our children and future children.

Its hard not to look at Landon and imagine a mirror image standing beside him, playing alongside him, cuddling with him.... Its hard sometimes to walk into his room in the morning when he wakes, and for a split second not imagine both cribs still set up and two boys with eager outstretched arms waiting to start the day. Its hard to not indulge in thoughts of what it would have been like to take my twins to the grocery store for the first time, or to show off to family, or to have strangers at the mall come to see the sweet little twins. The only people who saw my boys together were the few visitors that came to the hospital within the first 6 days after they were born, and not many did. I didn't have a chance to show off my beautiful identical twins, nor did I get to have their pictures taken together, and its really, really hard not to lament and lose myself if what ifs some days. I had twins, really beautiful identical twins, but not many people got to experience that reality with us. It was real.


Lastly, I've found some music I really like, and the words and the melodies are so beautiful but sorrowful and they pull at my heart strings and really make me ache. Sometimes its a therapeutic ache and sometimes it just hurts with no benefit.

Anyway, I'm coming down today, the high is over and I'm going to have to let myself feel some sadness and frustration for bit, no matter how much I wish I could block out those feelings forever.

Katie

Another song I like..........

I feel like I may be posting like crazy in the past couple of days, but things just keep popping into my head and I feel like I need to get them out! So, though I just posted moments ago, I have some song lyrics I want to share, because they speak to me, they remind me of Everett and of God and of our situation, and I like it:

Downpour by Brandi Carlile (also playing on my playlist):

I'm like the rain in a downpour
I wash away what you long for
And I wave goodbye with the sun in my eyes
I wish I could be there tonight

I'm like the wind in the canyon
I'm there then I'm gone in a second
You're growing older in peace where you're at
I wish I could be there for that
But I've moved on
Like a rolling stone
In a crowded room
I'm alone

I'm like the rain in a downpour
I wash away what you long for
And I wave goodbye with the sun in my eyes
I wish I could be there tonight
Oh, oh, yeah

You're like the tide in the deep blue
Cause you're always there when I need you
And when you need someone to carry you through
I'm gonna be there for you
I'm gonna be there for you

Joy

I took this picture yesterday......


This is what pure joy and contentment looks like. Moments like this don't happen very often in our house, but when they do it absolutely melts my heart! This particular act of affection was completely Landon's idea. I watched with baited breath as he reached for her and waited for her to give him a shove or reject him completely and for the tears to follow. But, she didn't, she accepted his hug, just look at the look on her face, she seems happy and appreciative of his impromptu showing of love. Its wonderful.

I love that Avery and Landon are becoming buddies. They fight a lot, but they do play together too, and I'm relieved that they're friends. When I was pregnant with the boys I fretted over whether or not Avery would feel put out by a new baby, but I hoped that she and the new baby would be good little play mates, happy to have one another. When I found out I was having twins I though, uh oh, Avery's new play mate is bringing a play mate! But those feelings quickly subsided and I realized that both boys would likely adore Avery and she'd enjoy mentoring both of them. Landon and Everett grew and grew and I loved to day dream about the great friends they'd be, how close a bond they would have, they would be born with a best friend and soul mate, how exciting for them. So, when Everett died, I worried about Landon, and how he would cope with the absence of his his closest friend, brother and soul mate. I believe Landon grieved Everett though he didn't know why or for what he grieved. He seemed lonely, and needed constant contact with us, I think he missed proximity and the warmth and comfort that comes with sharing a small space with someone for so long. I don't know that Landon will continue to grieve, but I assume that if he does, he won't ever be able to put his finger on exactly why he grieves. I am happy that he and Avery have become buddies.

I am happy that they have each other.

I'm happy I have pictures like these ...........









And I love that they have moments like this (quietly sharing breakfast)......



My kids just amaze me. It amazes me how much love I have for them, how much hope they provide and how much joy they bring to every day!

Katie

A nice quiet day with the kids...........

Today has been a good day so far. Nice. Quiet. Peaceful. Its bright and sunny outside, all the the windows are open and a cool breeze is blowing through. The TV is off, the kids have been playing all morning, and are now both laying down for a nap. I feel contended. Its great. Days like these bring up images in my head of quiet farms with big wrap around porches and big porch swings and of unhurried days, I've always loved day dreaming of days like this, picture perfect and old fashioned!

Anyway, today is shaping up to be a really great day. Elvis is working and its just been me and the kids, we've had breakfast and lunch, made messes and cleaned them up time and time again. We've sat rather quietly and we've been awfully noisy. Nice. Relaxing. Fun. I've had lots of time to study and soak up my kids, they're incredibly fascinating little people! Here's what I've learned so far..........

*Landon snorts when he laughs, its darling and hilarious all at once!

*Avery still has sweet fuzzy shoulders like she did when she was a baby, precious!

*Landon is very opinionated and defiant! He's added "Uh uh!" and "No!" to his vocabulary before adding "Mama". In fact, when I ask him to say Mama, he says "Uh uh" and "No!".

*Avery's a smooth talker, a right little scam artist! When she wants something (for instance, an Oreo cookie for breakfast) and I tell her no, she leans in nice and close, speaks very softly while rubbing my arm ever so gently and says "Its okay mom, it is, its okay, I can have (insert whatever she wants right here)" while staring at me with her big brown eyes! She totally works me over!

*They both have incredibly beautiful fringes of dark thick eye lashes, its unfair!

*Landon loves babies. He picks up any random stuffed toy or doll and holds it close and says "Ahhhh (translation: Awwww)" while patting its back and kissing it, so cute!

*Avery's a firecracker! Easily frustrated. She wants immediate gratification, and hates set backs, delays and problem solving. Her solution to a "problem" or a "bump in the road", yell at it ;)

*Neither of them is very fond of napping ;) Landon is fighting it with everything he has and is clearly, and quite vocally expressing his desire to come back and play, and Avery has just decided to play in her room, I can hear her flipping pages in her book and changing CD's in her CD player. Neither of them is coming out until I get some Mama quiet time! How can I blog about how fun and cute they are if they don't give me a tiny time out from the fun and the cuteness?

Anyway, today is a nice quiet day (so far). I feel happy and blessed and optimistic (if not frazzled and tired and a bit annoyed that nap time is playing out as planned). Its nice to have a day like today, that brings the focus on to whats good and exhilarating and lively about life, and gives me a tiny break from focusing on the hurts.

Katie

Doing something stupid tonight................

I'm thinking. I'm allowing my mind to wander to places I would usually try and talk it out of. Rather then try to drown them out, I'm letting my mind think thoughts I usually try and suppress. Blame the movie I just watched, or the music on my IPOD, somethings pulling on my heart strings and making me think sad and unfortunate things. Can't be bothered to try not to think about them. Whats the point in it? They'll only catch up to me tomorrow if I ignore them tonight.

Firstly, while thinking sad things, here's a particularly painful song:

Wires by Athlete:

You got wires, going in
You got wires, coming out of your skin
You got tears, making tracks
I got tears, that are scared of the facts

Running, down corridors through, automatic doors
Got to get to you, got to see this through
I see hope is here, in a plastic box
I've seen christmas lights, reflect in your eyes

You got wires, going in
You got wires, coming out of your skin
There's dry blood, on your wrist
Your dry blood on my fingertip

Running, down corridoors through, automatic doors
Got to get to you, got to see this through
First night of your life, curled up on your own
Looking at you now, you would never know

I see it in your eyes, I see it in your eyes
You'll be alright
I see it in your eyes, I see it in your eyes
You'll be alright

Alright

Running, down corridors through, automatic doors
Got to get to you, got to see this through
I see hope is here, in a plastic box
I've seen christmas lights, reflect in your eyes
down corridors, through automatic doors
Got to get to you, got to see this through
First night of your life, curled up on your own
Looking at you now, you would never know.

Gaah! Who writes songs like that? I suppose potentially it has a happy ending, though its awfully vague. I see our story, I see Everett, I see sadness and loss and desperation in these lyrics.

I see this picture when I hear (or read):
"I see it in your eyes, I see it in your eyes
You'll be alright
I see it in your eyes, I see it in your eyes
You'll be alright"


I wouldn't have thought back when we were battling to keep Everett with us, that I would ever be able to reconcile him being gone, with him being "alright". Those words just wouldn't have meshed back them. But now, having underwent the spiritual transformation I did, I feel confidant in saying that I know he's alright, its me who isn't. He's fine. He's not bothered in the least anymore, its me who isn't alright, and most likely never will be again.

Also, I read this Bible verse tonight, I came upon it randomly, erroneously, but I like it, its though provoking:

Ecclesiastes 1:3-11

3 What profit has a man from all his labor

In which he toils under the sun?

4 One generation passes away, and another generation comes;
But the earth abides forever.

5 The sun also rises, and the sun goes down,
And hastens to the place where it arose.

6 The wind goes toward the south,
And turns around to the north;
The wind whirls about continually,
And comes again on its circuit.

7 All the rivers run into the sea,
Yet the sea is not full;
To the place from which the rivers come,
There they return again.

8 All things are full of labor;
Man cannot express it.
The eye is not satisfied with seeing,
Nor the ear filled with hearing.

9 That which has been is what will be,
That which is done is what will be done,
And there is nothing new under the sun.

10 Is there anything of which it may be said,
“See, this is new”?
It has already been in ancient times before us.

11 There is no remembrance of former things,
Nor will there be any remembrance of things that are to come
By those who will come after.

Its sort of prompts the thought, "What the heck is the point" eh? In fact, the heading in my Bible titled this little section "Everything is Meaningless." Sounds absolutely uninspiring, but I think, and of course I could be very, very wrong, but I think its meant to provide some hope. All things have been done, there is nothing new under the sun, time marches on, we come and we go, and the world is unchanged by it all. Our struggles and our toils are not new, they're as old as time, so in a sense, we're not alone in our strife and our sadness. Also, I think is meant to turn our eyes onto Heaven, as to say, this world doesn't matter, time marches on, the world is constant, but troubled and we won't ever find satisfaction here, nor are we meant to. I suppose there are a million different ways someone could interpret this piece of scripture, but this is how I've broken it down, and its why it caught my eye tonight. Life here on Earth is brief, when we're long gone and our hardships are well forgotten, new people with new troubles will continue the precarious task of balancing happiness and struggle that is life.

I'm supposed to be working. I have pictures to edit, I really should be tending to them. But, I can't get my head in the game tonight, I can't make myself focus, it seems my mind has a mind of its own tonight (haha), best to sit back and let it go where its going, I can edit tomorrow.

Its not all bad, my thoughts that is. They're not all dark and sad tonight. I'm thinking happy things too, heart swelling with pride type things, like for intance, look at this:

This is Landon, AKA "The Hulk" during this past week. Doesn't he look angelic, so sweet and precious butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, HA! He's a little bear, he's got such a temper, but it makes me smile, watching him attempt to assert himself, watching him try to take control and be in charge. Its precious, and lovely, watching his personality emerg and grow, he's becoming such a little person. He wants to get things done his way, and darn it, if you're not going to cooperate, he's going to thoroughly express is discontentment, he's very persuasive!

He's still my baby though, such a little baby!

(And yes, he spends a fair amount of time sitting or laying on tables, we pick our battles with the Hulk).

Isn't life one big juxtaposition? In one blog post, in one thought, one flash of memory, you can feel excruiating sadness and heart swelling pride? I still find it interesting that I can manage to grieve and love and celebrate simultaneously, I suppose its God's way of ensuring that we can still carry on after life altering loss. Its almost like I have two separate hearts and two separate minds, operating in perfect sync, one to grieve and one to live and love and celebrate life. One for Everett and for processing the hurt and confusion and pain and mind blistering sadness, and one for the rest of life, Avery and Landon and the future. Both minds and both hearts operate completely independantly from the other, allowing me the ability to feel the bad and the good distinctly and concurrently. Weird, but I have found that so much about this life since having seen it from the bereaved perspecive looks unusual and skewed.

I have to say it again, its not all bad. I've got a lof of amazing in my life, and a lot of beautiful, and a lot of precious and a lot of heart swelling proud too. I'm walking the line, I think I've got the knack of balancing lifes pain and life's joys, its precarious and unpredictable, but I'm getting in the groove, and it helps to know its pointless to toil and fret, and to spend too much time focusing on the bad, it won't change a thing, the world has been unchanged since the start of time, its hightly unlikely I'll be the one to change it.

Anyway, I suspect that this is becoming strange and incoherant and rambling.

Good night.

Katie

The name of the game is............

Blame.

The blame game is something we've been playing since the day we found out Everett was sick, I'm still playing it when no one's looking.

When we first found out Everett had a heart defect the game commenced, first up to take the blame, ultrasound techs who missed his defect over and over and over. What's that? Not their fault you say? Well then the Dr's who didn't stop my premature labor are surely to blame! If he wasn't premature then he would have fared better in surgery and would still be with us today! Not necessarily you say? Well then the surgeons at Sick Kids who came up with such an aggressive surgery! It was too much! They are to blame, right? No? They couldn't have predicted? Of course not, they were just trying to help! Then who? Who do we blame? God? Been there, done that, he's willing to admit we're suffering, he's willing to comfort and console, but it wasn't his fault. Someone has to take the blame!

Lately, I think it has to be me. Did I cause his defect? Maybe, most likely not. Did I cause his premature delivery? I don't think so. Did I do what I thought was best in getting him treated and trying to make him well, I absolutely did! But, did I choose the right treatments? I don't know. I've been struggling with this since he died. I think I chose wrong! Given the two choices for surgery, I chose what I thought would be immediately gratifying, immediately curing!

The Dr's gave us two choices, the first was a mild surgery designed to keep his ductus arteriosis open, to buy him time to grow and stabilize, he'd need to stay at Sick Kids and would face future surgeries when he was older. The second was a more aggressive surgery, to go in and fix as much of his defects as they could. They'd patch holes and make valves where there weren't any, and then get him on the road to recovery! He'd face future surgeries as he aged, but that would be much later down the line. The second choice seemed to be the choice the staff was pushing for, they thought it was best, they thought they could do it. Who was I to argue? And if I'm being honest, it never crossed my mind to argue. But now, with the luxury of hindsight, I can see we were wrong.

We should have chosen the first option, the mild surgery to keep his ductus open, to buy him time to grow and get stronger. We should have let him rest and heal, we should have been patient and accepted the longer road ahead of us. If we had have given him the time to get bigger and stonger, then he would have been better able to withstand the stress of the bigger surgery. His lungs wouldn't have given out, maybe he woudln't have bled so badly. He wouldn't have needed a respriator, and more so, he wouldn't have needed the ECMO. If he never needed the ECMO he would never have gotten the brain bleed, and he wouldn't have died. We chose wrong.

The blame game is torture for already tormented hearts. The completely logical part of me already knows there's no sense in laying blame based on hindsight. We can't possibly be angry at ourselves for not knowing what we had no way of knowing. Sensible, logical me tells bereft and distraught me not to blame myself, I know I did the best I could given what I knew and what I was being told. But its hard not to wonder "what if".

At least I knew I never had to blame genetics, thats a big consolation. Given that Everett and Landon were 100% identical, but Landon has a perfectly healthy heart, I know that Everett's defect was not inherited. I can have another baby one day without entering my pregnancy panic stricken that we're up against the odds genetically. Phew! But, I don't know that I'll ever be truly at ease again during any future pregnancies. I think at my first ultrasound when the tech scans over the heart beat and reassuringly tells me "See, a nice four chamber view" I may laugh out loud in a spiteful tone and hiss "So what! That means absolutely nothing to me!". I think I'll be more shrewed, less innocent, and more demanding. I'll push for things, like fetal echocardiograms (and cardiologists at Sick Kids who recommended this will back me up!), I won't feel totally at ease until every vein, artery, ventricle, atria and valve has been interrogated and come back clean. I'll do everything I can possibly do to never have to start up another round of the blame game, too bad I don't think I'll ever quit playing the round I started when we lost Everett.

Katie

Welcome to the Twilight Zone.......

..that is my life after Everett.

Its a life full of bizarre and unexplainable events.

Take for instance, the other day. Driving down the highway, the four of us, on a perfectly normal, happy day. The sun is out, we're listening to music, the kids are happy, a totally pleasant moment. Then a few words from the song playing catch my subconscious, they trigger a series of flashes in my memory, images jump out at me as of from nowhere. Images of me handing Everett over to the nurse at Sick Kids when we finally had to go home, images of me incoherently mumbling "Bye Everett" through inconsolable sobs. There I am sitting in the car on a seemingly normal and happy outing with my kids and husband, and in a matter of just seconds, without anyone else in the car knowing what has happened, I go from normal to quietly sobbing, trying not to be noticed.

To onlookers it would look very strange, thankfully Elvis understands these little processes, but that doesn't mean he knows what to do with them.

For the next 20 minutes I fight to regain composure and hold back any further tears. I try to explain, in a light hearted way, that I don't know why I feel so much like crying, which is partially true, but mostly not, but I can't be bothered to explain the words of the song being triggers and the flashes of painful memories, so I don't.

Just as I seem to regain my composure, Elvis decides that he needs water the flowers on Everett's grave. Big mistake. He gets out to water and I sit staring straight ahead, not wanting to look even a bit out the corner of my eye and risk catching a glimpse of his headstone, not then. Those few minutes when Elvis was watering the flowers we planted together feel like pure torture, I can't stand to think about Everett being there, just a few feet beneath the surface, it absolutely kills me. Elvis has no clue. When he comes back to the car I am once again crying hysterically, (insert creepy Twilight Zone music here) Elvis is notably concerned and asks if I want to get out and go see "Everett". I shout "NO" through my tears louder then I intended to. But, in all honesty, the very last thing I want to do is visit Everett's grave, ever. I decide right there that sometime soon I should tell Elvis that the decision to visit Everett's grave is personal, and should be unanimous, it should never be assumed that I don't mind tagging along while we "stop by to water the flowers", its too personal a decision, I don't want it made for me, but Elvis had no way of knowing. I think because being there actually helps him, Elvis thought it might help me, given my unexplainable breakdown in the car, God bless him for trying to help.

I'm so Twilight Zone sometimes even my husband is confused by me.

Heck, I'm so confused by me!

Katie

Bedtime stories......

"Once upon a time there was a pleasant but sometimes sad, but incredibly grateful young(ish) mother who had a two young children to love and raise (and one Angel in Heaven). As she put her children to bed one night she was struck by their beauty, and the depth of their love for her, and her heart swelled with pride and happiness. As she lay them in their beds she thanked God that she had beds to put them in, blankets to cover them with, and a roof to shelter their sweet heads. "

I know it sounds cheesy, but I seriously thought like this tonight while putting Avery and Landon to bed. Specifically while I was putting Landon in his crib, I covered him up, turned on his "Glowy" and his mobile and thought, we are so lucky.

So often we get caught up thinking on what we don't have, or focusing on what we wish we had, that we don't take stock of what we already have, if we did, we'd realize how incredibly rich we are. I'm not lecturing, because I am quite honestly very guilty of this habit. I think so often about all that I've lost, what I had and is gone from me, what I wish I could have back in my life, that I seldom stop to think about how lucky I am to have what I still have. Its hard. Its hard to shift the focus and stop thinking about what we long for, but I know I have try.

Longing for things, and wishing for things, hoping for things, doesn't actually get you things. But, neglecting what you have, failing to notice the blessings in your life can cost you them, thats a pricey lesson I hope to not have to learn. So, tonight while tucking my kids into bed, I pledged to myself to always be mindful of how lucky I am to have them in my life, and how fortunate we all are that we have the life we do. Not everyone is as blessed.

I am thankful that I have:
A home for my children to live in
Clothing to keep them warm (or cool)
Food for their bellies
Access to health care and medicines
Schools to teach them
A safe neighborhood for them to play
Good friends to talk parenting with (and stuff not related at all to parenting)
A large family to love them
A wonderful church and church community to support them as they learn about God
A God who cares
My children! (All of them!)

I am so rich! I feel so amazingly blessed tonight. Sadness has absolutely touched our lives, tragedy has undoubtedly altered it, permanently and painfully, but I would be remiss if I devoted my thoughts solely to what I cannot ever have again, rather then all the treasures and joys that are still in my life! I'm tempted to feel guilty over feeling happy and blessed when one of my children isn't here with me. Its tempting to devote my entire life to grieving Everett, memorializing and honoring him, but its not healthy, and it doesn't help heal our broken hearts. I read something recently in a Max Lucado book, about how those who believe in God are allowed to grieve and be sad, but not in the way that those who have no hope do. Interesting. Because I have hope for a reunion with Everett one day, I can unanimously grieve and celebrate. Strange. Strange, but it lifts a burden, the burden of trying to decide whether to hurt or feel blessed, to smile or cry, I get to do both, and tonight I feel like celebrating all that I have been given, including Everett. He is one of my life's treasures, I'll be forever grateful for him and for Avery and Landon (and any future baby too).

Look at these treasures!


Aren't they breathtaking? And surely Heaven sent. I don't think I have ever taken a picture of them, with those gigantic brown eyes that hasn't made me stop and think "Oh", Oh those eyes, those big, dark, warm, loving eyes. If I had nothing more in this whole world then those eyes to stare into, I would still be very, very rich.

The last of me my children see before drifting off into sleep is me kissing their foreheads and bringing their covers up to their chests, then closing the door to their rooms. It seems comforting to them, its familiar and happy, like a bedtime story. The last I see of them before I slip from their rooms to savor some quiet time before I got to bed, are those big, soft, deep brown eyes, heavy lidded and and weary, full of trust and love, better then any bedtime story.

Katie

Thank you Courtney!

My sister gave me a beautiful present today, I am so happy, and thankful!

She gave me a Reunion Heart Necklace, a lovely heart pendant, with a tear cut out, in remembrance of the one we lost, and a spot on the back to engrave an initial, its amazing. It came with a really touching poem, and of course, I cried. It really resonated with me, and she knew it would, because it reminded her of a previous post I made, talking about getting to Heaven to be with Everett again some day.

Here's the poem (get your tissues ready!)

Since Heaven has become your home
I sometimes feel I'm so alone;
and though we now are far apart
you hold a big piece of my heart.

I never knew how much I'd grieve
when it was time for you to leave,
or just how much my heart would ache
from that one fragment you would take.

God let this tiny hole remain
reminding me we'll meet again,
and one day all the pain will cease
when He restores this missing piece

He'll turn to joy my every tear
and when I wear this necklace near
it will become my simple way
to treasure our Reunion Day.

Its beautiful and I will wear it often, thank you so much Courtney!

On a different not, last night was terribly frustrating for me, I was overcome with such a huge range of emotions, from incredible sadness to absolute fury, but I was unable to express a single one. I had a fitful night and lots of bizarre and unsettling dreams as a result, but after today, after getting to explain things to my mom and sister, I feel resolved, so I am hopeful that tonight will be better.

Katie