A Beautiful Day

There is a story by an author named Richard Paul Evans called "The Christmas Box." In it, he tells of an old widow who mourns the death of her only child by visiting an angel statue. As the book rose in popularity, the author started to hear stories of bereaved parents and families looking for this statue so that they too could mourn there. Long story short: the Christmas Box Angel statue was commissioned. And then another, and another, so that now there is a Christmas Box Angel statue in nearly every state in the U.S.

So I found one that is near to my home and called the woman listed on the website as the point of contact for that statue. I was assuming the number was probably out of date and I wouldn't reach anyone but a man answered right away. I told him I was called about the Christmas Box Angel statue and he immediately knew what I was talking about and passed the phone to this contact woman. She answered the phone and proceeded to make me, a complete stranger, feel like I'd known her for years. She was so welcoming and immediately gave me detailed directions to find the statue and even left me with her work number in case I had any trouble.

I didn't end up needing to call her, as I enjoyed a pleasant drive through the country until arriving at the statue.



It was dusk and the sun was perfect. Furthermore, the day was unseasonably warm. I mean it was the middle of January and it felt like spring! It was so wonderfully peaceful. I left white flowers at the base.



The day before my husband had surprised me by picking out his own flowers that he wanted to leave at the statue as well. He couldn't join me for the trip, but wanted to be a part of it.



So this is how we were able to remember Aiden on what should have been his first birthday.

Looking back the day went a lot better than I had thought it would. The morning was the worst for me, which was really what I had expected anyway. I talked to A & M frequently and they seemed to handle the day well in general too. None of us could remember exactly what time Aiden was born (hospitals don't keep the same records when the baby has died), so they chose 8:00 pm and lit candles from his memorial service and that they got for Christmas. They also bought him a little "My 1st" baseball and a story book. As M put it, they focused on remembering him and all of the good stuff rather than letting themselves think about the bad stuff.

It was a beautiful day. I'm glad it is over, but I am also glad that it will now be a good one for me to add to my memory bank. Thank you so much to everyone who kept us in their thoughts and prayers! :)

Broken

This is it.

7:10 am.

One year ago, I was right in the thick of it. We had decided to take our time and get ready to go to the hospital as we had been instructed to for a routine induction since the due date was a week past. We were all up early of course because we were so excited, but knew that if we got to the hospital before 8:00 we'd just sit and wait anyway.

So we happily got ready. M showered, and felt him kick. This time one year ago, she felt him kick.

I know it's pointless but so much of me right now just wants to scream back at those shadows from one year ago. Something is wrong! Hurry!! NOW!!

I knew this time of day would be the hardest for me today. In a little while, I can no longer say that one year ago he was still with us. I don't want that door to close. But I know it will. Time stops for no one.

I will be better later. I know that. I have plans for today, for remembering my angel nephew. I'll be driving out of state to the location of a Christmas Angel statue, to remember and honor little Aiden and to pray for his parents. I'll leave white flowers there, as I've read is the tradition for remembering children at these statues. I think it will help bring some peace into this day.

Haiti

For the parents and other adults who have died. For the children and babies who have died. May our love and support help the survivors find the strength to carry on.

Counting Down

5 more days

And then it will have been a year.

What exactly do I call that day, one year after the day that my nephew died and was born? I've heard a few different phrases: BIRTHday, angel-versary, anniversary of death, just plain "anniversary," special day...

My approach to determining what I want to term the day has been the same as my approach to all things grief-y lately: complete denial and avoidance. The thought of what I might want to do on Monday, January 18th will pop into my head and then ::whoosh:: my brain blinks "ERROR MESSAGE! SYSTEM FAILURE! REBOOT!"

My mom is driving up to RI to be with A & M. If they ask for me to come I will of course be there in a heartbeat, but for now, I'll be home. Something about being up there with just them and my mom, like it was last year, and it being the same places and sights and environment... I just don't want to relive it, or have them feel even more like they're reliving it. I've relived it so many times over the past year already. Ugh!

I've read many accounts of what people do on the one-year date, hoping to get some insight on what I can do to help A & M. From that, I did come up with one idea which I'll post about later (it's a surprise). But for the most part, it seems like it's hard to predict what the day will be like and how they'll want to handle it. I'm just really unsure about the whole thing.

And of course I have no idea how I'll handle it.

That avoidance thing I mentioned? Yea, some of that sounds good right about now...

Eloquent

I found this while reading through blogs, and just thought it was such a beautiful analogy.

Thinking of a few special people on their grief journey today. <3

2009

To this year of sadness and hurt, I say:

Goodbye

and

Good riddance