Remembering

On this day, six years ago, our daughter coded.  I wrote about it here. Every year, as the day approaches, my heart lurches in my chest.  The struggle with guilt, and sorrow during this season often play on my mind.  But, at the same time, each year seems to be a little bit easier.  Each year she's older.  And, bigger.  The things still affected by all of it decrease.  It feels like a foggy dream that might not even be real sometimes.

As the day approached this year, I thought a lot about the hard stuff.  As always, I replayed the whole of her getting sick in my head, this time though, I make different choices.  This time she doesn't get sick.  But, then, I can't go forward from there.  I don't know what life would look like if she hadn't spent thirteen weeks in the hospital.  Maybe I want to know.  But, maybe it's not actually better (although most of me believes it would have been much better if that hadn't happened). 
At the end of my thoughts, I take a deep breath, tell myself that it happened, I can't change that, and I have the now.  So this weekend, I chose to spend extra time drinking in the joy of Shilo.  Her orneriness.  Her smile.  Her snuggles.  Her kisses.  The very fact that she is here with us, and that she brings so much joy to us, and others. 
Remembering is hard.  It always will be.  Focusing on the here and now though, it makes the pain feel a little less.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Helping Papa make muffins.

Helping Mama replant her basil.

Sisters doing dishes.  (This scene made me all sorts of emotional yesterday.)

Sunday afternoon snuggling and watching Sesame Street.  Not long after this, we were both asleep.

So we wait.

A lot of spit.  Some blood. Chocolate chip cookies. And, months of waiting, ahead. And, hoping.  Reading scholarly journals until I drive myself to the brink.  Then, enjoying a little boy with a Dino obsession.  All with the desire for something that explains all of the medical things in the life of Tiny.