August 20

August 20.  Not a day I'm particularly looking forward to, and it is almost here!  There are a number of reasons I'm struggling as that day approaches.

August 20 is the first day of school.  Luke, my firstborn is starting fourth grade.  Isaiah will be in second grade.  Every year it seems impossible that they can be old enough for the grade they are going into.  My little boys get less little all the time! 

The start of the school year marks the end of the time period I had set 3 or so months ago in which so much would be accomplished.  There were big plans for this summer!  Plans to camp and have fun and relax and maybe even read books!  I would get caught up on house cleaning and develop a new organizational system before school started up again.  So much was supposed to happen before August 20 rolled around.   Now that day reminds me of how few of those plans came to completion.  Summer was definitely busy, but some of those best-of-intention plans were lost in the busy-ness. 

And August 20 is a tough day because of what it isn't.  August 20 should be the day I send my baby girl off to Kindergarten.  It should include photos of a similing-ear-to-ear five year old in a carefully chosen, perfectly adorable first day of Kindergarten outfit.  It should be the day when I wonder what to do with myself now that all my kids are in school full-time. 

Thoughts of Anna and the "would have beens" are part of every day, but this is a tougher one.  Back to school shopping for the boys was tough because I desperately wanted to go and choose the perfect Kindergarten girl styles.   

We plan to wear purple for the first day of school in memory of Anna and what would have been her first day of Kindergarten.

I will be working as an aide again in the Kindergarten classroom.  I debated if this is a good decision, but I think it will be OK.  It can't make me miss her anymore - I don't think that's possible.  And maybe it will give me an additional connection, as I watch how her classmates are growing and developing and imagine how she would be spending her days. 

On the flip side, I am hoping that the start of the school year can bring some positive changes. This has been a rough summer, emotionally. Some good things were accomplished and some happy memories made, but I've been in a funk or depression that has been hard to pull out of, making it difficult to derive enjoyment even from the happy times, and I know it makes it hard for others to be around me at times.  I'm reminded that I am still in the thick of it when it comes to grieving, and unfortunately life doesn't take a break from throwing so much other stuff at you just because you're dealing with grief.  Some days are just too overwhelming to deal with any of it, yet I go through the motions to get done what is needed, and end up feeling like so little was accomplished anyway.  But with prayer and making use of some available tools I am confident that brighter days are soon to come.  I am working parttime this year so I can focus on some other areas of my life, too.  God is good, his mercies are new every morning, so there is reason to get up and face each day. 

August 20.  Ready or not......

A smile for the day

We think about Anna each and every day, but some days the memories are sharper than others.  Today is one of those days, as March 21 marks the third year since it was discovered that Anna had cancer.  It can be a tough day, but I wanted to share a little bit of Anna that always makes us smile and even laugh through our tears. 

We miss these giggles and silliness so very much!!

Who needs a spring break in Mexico when you can spend it in the tropical midwest?

We were very fortunate to enjoy a spring break last week with sunshine, warm temperatures, shorts and t-shirts, and especially fortunate that we didn't have to leave the upper midwest to experience it!  Days that feel more like June than March, days of record high temperatures will get no complaints from me!  We had contemplated heading further south in search of early spring warmth, but we are thankful we didn't waste a trip when we could enjoy beautiful weather right here.

We did get away from home for a few days, but not too far - just to the Wisconsin Dells.   Our spring break didn't line up with vacations for extended family, so instead of passing by the Dells as we often do on our way to visit family in southeastern Wisconsin, we made this our destination. It's not the happening place we hear it is in later spring or summer, but we were able to hit a few of the highlights. 

Of course we had to stay at a waterpark hotel.  The Dells is "The Waterpark Capital of the World," after all.  Even I was brave enough to try out most of the slides and rides.

Here are a few of the highlights in photos.

Shots inside the waterpark rarely turn out for me, as clearly evidenced by the second photo, which is better than most of the ones I took.

We did make a few new friends!

And tried out a few of the Dells famous tourist attractions...

Overall, we just had fun spending time together as a family.

If we are lucky, this weather will stick around for a while!

Kindergarten Roundup

Our school recently held its Kindergarten Roundup.  It is always a fun time as the Preschoolers get a sneak peek into what Kindergarten will be like.   As the Kindergarten aide, I got to help with Roundup and witness firsthand those eager little ones experiencing a little bit of life as a Kindergartener.  Some came roaring into the classroom with no apparent apprehension whatsoever.  Others lingered for a while near mom or dad before slowly beginning to explore the world of Kindergarten.  Everyone seemed to enjoy their time, and I imagine they can hardly wait for the next five or so months to pass by. 

I have helped at Roundup night before, but this year was a little different.  The thought never left my mind that Anna would have been at this one.  She would have been one of those five year olds eager to move on to the next step.  I watched those children and wondered which one Anna would have been most like.  Confident, tentative, social, shy...which of those characteristics would have been most apparent?  Which of those other little girls would she have formed close friendships with?  Would she still have her eye on the same little boy she liked to call her "boyfriend" in her brief time in preschool? 

As the years pass by, I don't doubt that I will always be aware of where Anna would have been, and that on occasions such as these I will be full of wonderings about what she would have been like.  But I was surprised, though I probably shouldn't have been, by the intensity of it all that day.  I try to prepare myself for events like these, but the power of the emotions continues to catch me off guard at times.  And I know there is a lifetime of events like this to come.  First days of school, school productions, high school graduation...I will always in my mind and heart see one more face, one more beautiful smile among the rest of the kids. 

I miss you so much, my beautiful Anna, everyday!

Looking Back...

I can't hide from this any longer - I am officially 40 years old.  There are always many things to be said about reaching those milestone birthdays and their bright sides and downsides.  I feel rather ho hum about it.  No major mid-life crisis, but not exactly feeling Forty and Fabulous either.  But I did get to thinking about the 40 years gone by, remembering some high points, trying to forget some of those less-than-pround-of moments. 

I was listening to the 80's station on satellite radio recently, which of course brings me right back to my high school years when those songs were played.  Some say high school is the best time of life.  High school was alright, but I would not want to be a teenager again. College was fun, and I am thankful for the memories, but I was glad to move on from there as well.

If I could go back in time, if I could pick a birthday to relive, I would have to pick my 37th.  These pictures were taken within days of my 37th birthday.  How could I not wish to go back to these days?

I look at her perfect, scar-free tummy here, and can hardly believe that only a month or so later we discovered that major tumors were growing in there.

Such a silly girl, so happy!

Three happy, healthy kids!  Life is good!

This is about the longest her hair would ever get to be.

On my 37th birthday, I was blissfully ignorant.  I was unaware that childhood cancer could affect anyone other than "someone else."  I could live each day happily in the dark about the names and side effects of the chemotherapies that kids get every day, about what life is like on a pediatric oncology floor.  I lived 37 years without knowing that there was a horrible cancer named Rhabdomyosarcoma.  About six weeks later, that all changed.  How much wiser I became!  How much more knowlegeable I have become in the three years since then. 

I must say that my fortieth birthday was very enjoyable.  I enjoyed a day / evening with much of my family (5 of my 7 siblings and their families) and even some fabulous college friends, thanks to the efforts of my incredible husband.  And because of what I learned when I was 37, we also walked in the Milwaukee CureSearch Walk for Childhood Cancer, so that hopefully, someday, others won't have to get the education I was forced to receive.

I am happy to be getting each day closer to heaven, but the next best thing would be to celebrate my 37th birthday once again.

Year Two....

“The first year is the worst.”  That’s what you hear them say while you are going through the first year.  You think it has to be true, because you’d hate to think it gets worse than that.  And by believing it you are blessed with hope, always keeping an eye out for the light at the end of the tunnel that just has to be coming. 

They wait until the end of the first year to let you in on a little secret.  Or maybe it had been said earlier but you are too busy focusing on making it through the horribleness of year one. “Oh, by the way, the second year is harder than the first.” 

I really wanted to believe that it would be better after a year.  Doesn’t it seem like a year is a long time?  Wouldn’t you think that in 365 days you could make the necessary adjustments to live comfortably in a changed life, even a drastically changed life? 

Truthfully, I didn’t believe it would get better.  Could I possibly wake up one day and not miss my little girl as much anymore?  Could my life suddenly feel complete once again, the hole in my heart healed?

In short, I’m living with the difficulty of having entered the second year.  But what makes the second year harder? 

In some ways, I might seem “better.”  I don’t fall apart in public as often as I used to.  I have mostly adjusted, at least physically, to our life as a family of four.  I have been able to let go of some of Anna’s things.  I think that my mind is a little clearer-thinking these days, at least some days, and most of the time I don’t become massively overwhelmed by the little stuff. 

But I feel the expectation, whether internal or external, that I should be healed by now, that my time of mourning should be over, or at least publicly over.  Understanding from others lessens over time when I just don’t feel up to doing something, when I hesitate to make a commitment, when I just need some alone time.  Suddenly I get the impression that grief is now just a lame excuse. 

And I might be guilty of trying too hard to meet those expectations I perceive from others.  I’m afraid to be accused of “playing the grief card.” 

Plus, there’s a big part of me that is just so very tired of being the bereaved mother.  I don’t want to be the one people pity. 

I just don’t want to be the mom whose little girl died of cancer! 

But a year, or two, or ten, or a lifetime of days can’t change that about me.  The insulating shock of much of the first year has mostly worn off, and the reality remains that after two years and three and four, and each year I have left on this earth, I will wake up and continue to miss Anna, and continue to love her just as much as I love my other children, and continue to ache that I can no longer hold her in my arms.  

But always with sure hope, I look for the light at the end of the tunnel, the light from heaven, where I will be reunited with my daughter.   

Growing Up

"Mom, are you Santa?"

This question, asked of me shortly after we finished opening gifts this year, wasn't completely unexpected.  I was aware of the talk that was going on at school, aware that my kids had heard from others that Santa wasn't real.  At first, such rumblings were met with shock:  "Mom, can you believe that there are some kids that don't believe in Santa?"  A note was written to Santa on Christmas Eve asking for proof for the friends at school that Santa is indeed real. 

In my young adult years, I had decided that I would not do the Santa Thing with my kids. For several reasons I thought it would be best to avoid Santa, mainly because I intended to make sure their attention was undividedly focused on the real meaning of Christmas.

Then I got married and had kids.  Both of us had grown up with Santa, and somehow it just got started with our kids.  Of course it is not our main emphasis of the holiday, but our kids have enjoyed the magic and wonder of it all as they eagerly anticipated what treasures would be left beneath the tree.

I think this is the first year that they started hearing some "Santa's not real" mumblings.  Third grade is about when I learned the truth, so I was expecting it was coming.  But still it was sad to see the disappointment when I truthfully answered that Christmas question. 

I am not overly sad about leaving Santa behind, but I do feel those sad twinges that my boys are growing up, and that some of that wonder, magic and eager anticipation is left behind.