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From my heart to yours: Happy New Year

The year 2012 is about to close... and another year will begin.

It's funny, I guess, but I don't want 2012 to end. No more so than I wanted to deposit checks we received at Avery's funeral. I don't want to face its completion. I don't want to consider this chapter "closed."

"Closed" sounds so final. So absolute. So... unrelenting.

I know what happens to memories. They fade. I know this because I lived 14 amazing years in my childhood farm home and yet I only have the same handful of repeated memories to share: Shannon shaving the goats in the bathtub; an epic food fight with one last bean stuck to the kitchen ceiling; one fabulous play complete with a brown paper bag rainbow that we actually walked over --- but what happened in between? What did we play and sing and talk about in between the food fight and the rainbow?

I worry that time will make that in between space of Avery memories too far for my heart to span.

More space. Less memories.

More of one thing means less of another.

More is less.

I think about the common practice of establishing resolutions for the New Year.

More exercise; less weight.

More health food; less sugar.

What do I resolve to do for 2013? More happiness, less tears? More faith, less fear? More friends, less enemies? More love, less hate. More good, less evil...

More white. Less black.

The truth is a truth only my heart understands but my earthly mind can't wrap itself around: I will be forever thankful for this year.

It would be so easy to hate 2012. Hate October 24th especially. Yet, I can't. October 24th, 2012, was the day my heart shattered into a million pieces ... but my eyes were opened wide. My eyes watched as hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of people, each holding a tiny piece of my shattered heart, lined up in a humble effort to help put it back together again. And with each hug, with each silent knowing look, with each tight squeeze of my shoulder, I saw it: Love.

2012 was filled with so much Love.

I don't want 2012 to end. I don't want the year to close. I want the love to continue to grow and spill over into 2013; into the yards of neighbors and into the hearts of strangers.

More love.

More faith and hope and goodness.

More white.

I won't lie. I'm scared. I'm scared of what comes next: will Brody forget the time he spent with his sister? Will Jadrian ever recover from losing her only sister... will eleven years of memories of fort building and dance routines and making crafts be darkened by haunting images of one singular moment in one singular day? I don't know.

But I know if there's more white in the world, at least we have hope.

More white... means more hope.

More means more.

More hope means more faith.

More faith means more love.

More love means more white.

More means more.

In 2013, I resolve to Be More.


Di said…
do your family one favor for me.....celebrate her on her birthday .....bake a birthday cake for her, take her photos that the dance recital dvds...listen to her voice that day....make a special dvd with all her....with Jadrian and Brody...

CELEBRATE HER!! God may need her, but you know she'll be your guardian angel...she'll be close, it was her nature

try to get through October 24 ....
Mel Hooker said…
We lost our daughter Cassidy on December 8th 2006. That day haunted me for many years...Now we use that day to celebrate our lives, no more crying and binge drinking on that day for me. Celebrate...allow yourself to be happy. It is the best way I can honor Cassidy while she is waiting for us in heaven. And the best way for you to honor Avery while she waits for you. May this New Year bring you blessings and peace that you never knew existed!!
Tina, said…
Celebrate her! Make a scrapbook just of Avery, with all her beloved things. Her photos. These blogs. Put it all in a one special book. Look at it as often as possible, never take it off the coffee table. Share it together with Brody and Jadrian. And most of all journal in it!!
I stumbled across your blog weeks ago and it made me cry...for you, for your family, for your pain and your fears. I lost my father 5 years ago, suddenly, with no warning when he was only 50. Much different than losing a child, a young child, your own child, I know. But the pain is the same, as is the unfairness and the cruelty of it all. Forgetting is my only fear now. I write down everything I can remember because when they're gone, no memory is pointless or insignificant. They are all you have, all you will have. For the new year, maybe resolve to write everything and anything you can remember, smells and sounds, because I think those are the easiest to forget and the hardest to hang on to. And take care of yourself. You have a long, tough road and it'll only seem reasonable if you are kind to yourself through this awful process. I'm not trying to preach in any sense. My heart aches every time I read your (wonderfully sentimental and loving and honest) posts.
Love this post. You are awesome. This is a post to read when things suck. A reminder for you and for all of us to find the positive in everything. I love the visual of the shattered pieces been carried by a line of people bringing you heart back to you. What a comforting thought. Hold onto that thought. When you are overwhelmed by grief, close your eyes and picture yourself holding onto that shard and that the shard is magnetic. It's such an amazing strong magnet that it pulls all those other shards back to it. The shards are all connected. We are all connected. More shards pull in more shards. More is more. Look at these comments. There are new people finding you every day. You ARE "more." And since we're all connected, now WE are more because of you. xo
OK I was really only going to write 6 sentences of that comment. I'm such a blabber mouth!

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