She's Always Here

My little girl is gone. She is also very much here, all around me. While I can't actually see her or touch her, I can always feel her spirit. I can see the evidence of everything that is her...the life that she lived...everywhere I am. I can even see parts of her in these little baby girls and my sons. 

I have incredible memories that seem to come to life in stories that we tell. All it takes is the smallest thing to remind us and we all begin to talk and laugh about who she was...Who she will always be to us. 

She lived a life full of happiness and wonder and LOVE like I've never known before. 

We keep her here with us in our conversations. Her name can never die. Her imprint on our hearts is permanent. All of us who knew her and were lucky enough to love her and to be loved by her will always have her inside us. 

I am so honored that God chose me to have her. I wasn't punished by her death, I was blessed by her LIFE. 

I may mourn her death but I will always cherish her life above all else. 

The greatest thing of all is that we know we are promised to spend the rest of eternity with her in Heaven. Our relationship with Jesus guarantees it. So while some days seem almost more than we can bare, here without her (and, no, it will never feel fair),  we know we can survive it. 

The end of our story is already written and it is a happy one. We will all be together again. 

Soon and very soon...

The Broken Pair

Most of my family has made it in for Christmas. They travel from out-of-state every year about this time. It's always pretty wonderful. 

My sister's boys are very close in age to my oldest three kids. Our first two are 7 months apart. Our second two are 7 weeks apart and our third two are less than 3 months apart. 

Those weeks/months between their ages and the many miles between their homes were always the only thing that kept them "apart". It would be months between times they saw each other but when they were reunited, it was like no time had passed at all. Now, they have grown many inches; voices have deepened and there's facial hair involved but that bond always stays the same. 

But one very big thing has changed. 

Aubrey isn't here. 

My youngest nephew and Aub were inseparable. I would love to sit back and watch those two play for hours, in their own little world. It was mesmerizing the way they got along. 

And then she left him. 

Today, that SUV pulls in and grown boys pile out, talking nonstop and hugs are passed around. Then, the four oldest boys take off. But the youngest stays behind. It's just him with the adults. His buddy isn't here to play with. She never will be again. No matter how much fun he finds for himself, or how much two little babies may entertain him, he's left alone. I watch him and sometimes have to hold my breath so I don't cry. Inside, my heart breaks for him. It's such a reflection of the way I feel for myself without my girl. 

To know that this will go on every year is indescribable. To know that every year he gets out of that vehicle is one more my girl won't be  waiting for him. 

To see what __-years-old looks like on him and to have to know she is forever 5-years-old (at Christmas) is just too much. She will never again be in the "cousins Christmas picture". She won't have her own special wrapping paper under the tree. Her stocking will hang, empty and alone on the mantle, while all the others are filled and beside its kid. 

I sigh a huge sigh. 

I wipe these eyes and put on my happy, brave face. 

I face the music. 

While it's a beautiful, joyful song, there is one less sweet voice singing it with us. 

Thanksgiving Day With Two Empty Seats

Today is Thanksgiving. The day we are all supposed to be thankful for what we have and not long for what we don't. 

I'm very thankful. I have a wonderful family. A job and a roof over my head. A car to get me where I need to go. Although money can be tight, we have what we need. I am very thankful for what God has blessed me with. 

But I want to be honest and share my heart (followed by a little reminder and advice). 

All I want on this Thanksgiving day is for our two empty seats to be filled with those in which they were always assigned. I want my sweet Aubrey Laine and my Grandmama here.

I want to hear Aub proclaim that her Lainie makes "THE BEST turkey in the world!" I want her to ask "how many breads" she can have and if I'll please put the butter in it for her..."lots of butter". I want her to eat pecan pie and have messy, sweet, sticky cheeks afterward. I want, I want. I'll never stop longing for my girl. Thanksgiving...all holidays...will never feel complete. No matter how many show up or who sits where, there will always be missing seats. 

Holidays for the bereaved are a struggle unlike any other. The highs and lows are much more profound (even more than on every other day). Having to push aside the gut-wrenching feelings--the ones that make you want to crawl back into bed and sob and not ever get up--to put on a brave, happy face to celebrate with those who are still here with us. You have to ignore the knots and nausea and fill your stomach with all the delicious holiday food. 

The laughter shared is always followed with silence and that big sigh that reminds you of the pain, the void. 

It's always there. It never goes away. 

Many of you have to be several different places today. Multiple family/friends gatherings. It's chaotic, I know. But enjoy it. Enjoy everyone around you and the time you have with them. You never know when it may be your last. You never know when there will be that empty seat at your table. 

For those of you who have to share the holiday--and your child--with an ex, pay close attention to my advice. I've lived out those years and all the difficult back-and-forth. It's hard, I know. It's easy to be resentful and not to want to share, especially on the holidays. 

Please, just thankful there is a child to share. Delight with your child at their love for their other parent and family. Encourage that relationship to flourish, no matter how you feel. Let it be a celebration that they have so many people that love them, they get to go to multiple places and be reminded of that. Do not gripe and complain. Do not make them feel like they have to choose. Do not let them think you're sad about this. 

Remember, you are blessed to have this child to share. They're coming back to you. 

I pray you never have to know what it's like for them not to be here at all. 

Life is short. God allows us to have those we love. He doesn't promise us tomorrow. 

LIVE. LAUGH. LOVE

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Sweet 16, Tyler

"You have a son". I'll never forget those words coming from my doctor's mouth, 16 years ago. I had just labored through the night and had a pretty rough delivery. I was only 19-years-old. In that instant, the world--as I knew it--changed forever. I was no longer a child, a teenager, a person without purpose. In that moment, my life became important. 

That baby boy and I were a team and he was the most incredible beginning and end of every single day. I LOVED being his Mama. 

Life has had some crazy highs and lows for us over the past 16 years but we have survived them all together. 

I wouldn't trade life as his Mama for the world.

 

My boy is strong-willed and independent. He is bull-headed and stubborn but also sensitive, silly and fun. 

He has a sense of humor that I'm quite proud of and has achieved the art of sarcasm.

He has mastered great skills of fishing and would do it all day, every day if he could. 

He loves his Lainie and Papa most and I'm perfectly okay with that. He is his brother's best friend and worst enemy, as it usually is with brothers.

The way he looks at his baby sisters melts my heart.

 

He was Aubrey's hero and "best, biggest brother".

I know she's watching over him and helping him pull in the best fish. She's probably found him the perfect honey hole to fish, one day, in Heaven. 

My baby boy is growing up so quickly before my eyes. It is the strangest mix of pride and fear, as a Mama, to watch. I could not be more excited, for him, to reach this milestone. I'm terrified but this is what I have been preparing myself for, all these years I know that he has a good head on his shoulders and the Lord in his heart. As a Mama, it's not going to get any easier than that. 

So, here's to 16 years of amazing and many, many more!! 

I love you, 

Mama

Fly High, Grandmama

Julia "Judy" Coker was my grandmother. 

I grew up half a mile from her and my youngest daughter is her namesake. 

She was a real fireball, in the best way. Although she was a woman of few words, she wasn't afraid to speak her mind and she rarely sugar-coated things. When she spoke, you had better listen. I wish I knew sooner in life she was also hilarious. She sure kept us on the edge of our seats. 

She was a small woman, not even five feet tall. She had tiny feet but left us all huge shoes to fill. 

She was dearly loved by my grandfather for over 65 years. In that time, she raised four wonderful children. 

She buried her youngest son, my Uncle Steve, in 1996 after a tragic accident. I am all too familiar with the kind of void his death left inside her heart. 

I can only imagine the reunion at Heaven's Gates as he helped Jesus welcome her home. 

I'd like to think my Aubrey was riding on his shoulders, the way I used to do as a little girl.  I can hear her squeal as she called out for Grandmama! What a perfect day!!

As we sat in her house tonight with my Granddaddy, I almost asked "where's Grandmama?"  Just that quickly, I forgot. 

She's supposed to be here with us. I miss her. I selfishly want her back to make me laugh and be brutally honest and to watch these baby girls grow up. Then something dawned on me. Each one of us--who were blessed enough to know and love her--have a part of her inside of us. She has been planting in us her seeds of wisdom, humor, humility and love our whole lives. 

Now we all get to reap that harvest and plant them back into our loved ones. She will live on forever through us. 

One day, soon and very soon, we will all reunite at Heaven's Gate. 

What a glorious day that will be. 

Fly High, Grandmama. LOVE

 

Cost of being a woman

Soon after conception, the female baby's body begins to quickly develop. Inside that tiny being are hundreds of thousands of eggs that could one day be her own children. Very clearly, God created females to be mothers.

As children, we play "house" and care for our baby dolls. We nurture our pets and love all babies. Before our first boyfriend, we have already planed our future lives as a Mama. 

As teenagers, our bodies begin to change and go through a process designed solely to reproduce. The pain, inconvenience and even isolation starts there. 

Then, if life goes as planned, you find the perfect man and marry. Your body no longer belongs to only you. Your days are spent nurturing your spouse. Your mind is constantly planning daily activities, household chores, meals and even romance. You try to keep up your appearance to keep your husband's attention. 

You always have to be tuned into your body to avoid pregnancy before you're ready. Then, the time comes to try for a baby. So you chart, time sex, take tests and basal body temperatures and read into every little sign your body gives. 

For some it's easy. For so many others, this cycle repeats itself for months and even years to no avail. It takes every bit of romance out of a marriage. It makes you feel like less of a woman and creates a loneliness that is unexplainable. It tests your faith in yourself, your spouse and even God. 

I wouldn't wish infertility on anyone. 

For the fortunate ones, you finally become pregnant. 

Suddenly, you aren't just you...or your husband's wife...you're someone's mother. 

You're excited, scared and overwhelmed by all the information you have to learn. Every thought is about this tiny unborn baby. What you eat, how you dress, when you sleep. You're vamped up on hormones and totally out of control of your own body. You worry about how your husband feels about you in this new form. You have so many mixed emotions about how you feel about yourself. You try to imagine what life as parents will be like. You think you know how life will never be the same again. 

Towards the end of pregnancy, the excitement turns to terror. You realize there are only two ways this baby (or babies) can come and neither are fun or easy. No amount of classes, books or even friends personal experiences can prepare you for what lies ahead. While every woman's birth story is different, the feelings are all similar in ways. The fear, anxiety, pain, strength, weakness and endurance required is unexplainable. 

Regardless of the length of labor, the method of delivery or the pain endured, the moment that baby is born a peace comes over you. You are immediately bonded and you are very aware that your life has officially changed course. 

The days, weeks and months following a birth are intense. The physical recovery is horrible. Your body has just been through the unimaginable and will never go back to exactly what it was before. You're exhausted in a way you never knew possible. You're every moment is about that child and they are demanding little creatures from day one. Taking care of a baby requires all you have and then some. 

Regardless of how good of a husband/daddy you have beside you, the majority of responsibility belongs to the woman. Maybe we are simply better equipped. Maybe there isn't anyone but you there (I have been one and have the highest respect for ALL single mothers.) Sometimes a baby just prefers Mama. It's a grueling--but very rewarding-- full-time job. 

You'll face body image issues no matter your previous vanity or self-security level. You'll doubt your God-given mothering capabilities. Your marriage will be shaken and there will be resentment on BOTH sides. You'll loose yourselves in the storm that is all things baby. 

Your life is no longer your own. It is no longer your husbands. You are someone's Mama.

Having children means 

that your heart is walking around in this world outside of your body. Their joy is your joy. Their pain is your pain.  When they are injured you feel it inside your own body. It's an incredible phenomenon. 

People make jokes and talk about the way God created women, saying that they are emotional, weak, etc. Mothers are strong, multifaceted and incredible beings all-around. We climb mountains. We live a life that no one can understand or fully appreciate until or unless they themselves become a mother. 

While no one can prepare you for the pain, heartache, sacrifice and endurance required for this job, there is also no way to be prepared for the amount of love, happiness, reward and pure joy felt by doing it.

The cost of being a woman is one I'll happily pay for the rest of my life.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0L9NRVYSa5Y

Fear of Truth

I haven't written in forever. I don't have writers block, I have fear. Fear of my own honesty and its perception by anyone reading. Fear that negativity may steer some hurting bereaved parent the wrong way in their grief. Fear that too much happiness in this new chapter of my life may convince someone I've abandoned my own grief and my daughter. Fear of judgement on so many levels. 

This problem is swimming in my brain daily. I beat myself up every time I start to write. Because of this, I'm losing memories and denying myself (and maybe others) the ability to own my true emotions. 

My goal is to overcome these fears and take the plunge into TRUE, raw, brutally honest writing. It may not be eloquent. It may not be enjoyable. But, it WILL be me. 

Mother's Day 2015

This was my fourth Mother's Day without my girl. They never get any easier. The constant battle between the pure joy of being celebrated by my two sons and the pain of not having my daughter here too. Aubrey was such a good celebrator (of all things) and knew how to make everyone feel so special. 

This is my last year ever as a mother of one child in Heaven and two children on Earth. Next year, for this occasion, my two baby girls will be about 10-months-old. I cannot even begin to imagine the emotions that will exist. 

There is already this guilt that no amount of sense can override. I know my Aubrey is safe and right where God wants her to be. I know that I have not replaced her with these new babies. I am aware that He gave us these two girls just like all our other children and that they are His gift. 

But I am a woman...a Mama. 

My heart is always divided and always has been. 

Every mother knows the guilt of being stretched between or having to choose where you are and who you're with at some point. 

When your kids have ball games at the same time and you're trying to be in two places at once, it pains your heart. "What if I miss their big play?", you think. "What if they think I value their sibling more than them?" These are small examples of what all moms of multiple children go through. 

When your child is in Heaven, every day is full of these feelings. You can't let yourself get lost in the grief that your soul tells you to feel because you're afraid of what impact it will have on your living children. You don't want them to ever feel they're less important than your child that was lost too soon. 

When you're busy living life and caught up in the joy that comes from those kids, there's a nagging feeling you're forgetting about your child who isn't here. 

It's brutal, at best.

I try to constantly remind myself how lucky I am to even have this pull...this struggle. It means that I was privileged enough to be the mother of one amazing child who is no longer with us and two awesome children who still are. Somehow, God loves me enough to bless me with two more children who are on their way. 

Motherhood--of all varieties--is the most grueling, gut-wrenching, second-guessing yet amazingly rewarding position we will ever be blessed to hold. 

Respect all mothers for what they do. Be thankful for the mother God gave you and take time to show her how much she means to you. If you're unable to mother a child yourself, be a strong role model and example to others. 

The rewards are infinite. 

LOVE💜

Three Years Gone

This week marks three years since the last time I held my daughter. The last time I heard that amazing laugh, saw those big, beautiful brown eyes light up as she smiled so big and watched her fish and play all day. 

Her last bath and then the last time I ever put her to bed. The last "I love you, Mama, Goodnight"...her last words ever.

 

Three whole years. 

She has now been gone half as long as she was ever here. That gorgeous creature only walked this Earth for six short years. 

Both her life and her death have changed who we are, forever. Even knowing the tragic ending, I wouldn't trade a single day of life with Aubrey Laine. 

Now, her two baby sisters are living and growing inside of me. Her big brothers are bigger than me and growing up and maturing so fast. It all brings both the most joyous and painful feelings I've ever known.

The promise of new life is incredible and healing but there's also a fear that is ever present. It's terrifying, now knowing how truly fragile life is. I worry about the mother I now am--and will be--after all I've been through and continue to walk through everyday. Will I find the patience, stamina or anything it takes to not just raise them but to do an outstanding job? They all deserve nothing less. 

It kills me to know these little girls will never know just how incredible their big sister really was.  It's impossible to show a picture or tell a story and rightfully portray her magnificence. 

She's our past, our memory, but these girls and their brothers are our only present and future (at least this side of Heaven). 

So, the mysteries of life continue and the goal remains: live the best life we can live while wading through and overcoming our personal difficulties. We all have them. We are all human. 

Be kind and encourage one another. LOVE 💜