She reminded me of another time when we had the Ashley and Hope gathered at the table to participate in snack time. This picture makes me smile too!
How is it, that I am so blessed...
Monday, February 11, 2013
Simple things
I love remembering the simple things. Mira sat at the counter the other day, playing with Brodie's lego, completely unaware of how cute she looked wearing her green sunglasses. She was sticking lego men in the nice cranberry bread I had made!
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Giving is healing
Ashley and Hope taught me how to give. I didn't always give with a willing spirit, and I wasn't always joyful but I can tell you what was beautiful. The beautiful days were the ones when I accepted the work, put aside my own agenda, and gave myself over to loving. The beautiful days happened when God gave me the grace to love Ashley and Hope without rushing to be done with the work involved with their care. The beautiful days always involved giving, not getting.
I was reminded of this reality, when I listened to a speaker who shared her own journey of losing two children. After the first funeral, she felt desperate to escape the debilitating feeling of pain, but was unsure of what to do. When she read a suggestion that she seek out someone else who was in need and serve that person, she thought, 'ya, right'....but it worked.
I listened to her and a lightbulb went on for me. I've experienced those days of sadness that were lightened by a choice to do something for someone else. I've also experienced the sad days when I chose to have a nap, or a coffee break or read a book (distractions that have some value). The interesting thing is that the distractions didn't serve me well. They weren't bad, but they weren't fruitful either. They were just distractions that gave me a 'break' from the sadness. Giving, on the other hand, always led to a lighter feeling, sometimes even to joy.
I love that! It makes so much sense to me, that I should use offer up my sadness to God, and serve him by blessing someone else. I can count numerous memories when I have felt joy at giving. I'm sure everyone can think of these moments in their lives. Giving is part of healing. We weren't meant to serve ourselves.
Thank you, Lord, for giving me the opportunity to serve, to love, and to give to these precious children.
I was reminded of this reality, when I listened to a speaker who shared her own journey of losing two children. After the first funeral, she felt desperate to escape the debilitating feeling of pain, but was unsure of what to do. When she read a suggestion that she seek out someone else who was in need and serve that person, she thought, 'ya, right'....but it worked.
I listened to her and a lightbulb went on for me. I've experienced those days of sadness that were lightened by a choice to do something for someone else. I've also experienced the sad days when I chose to have a nap, or a coffee break or read a book (distractions that have some value). The interesting thing is that the distractions didn't serve me well. They weren't bad, but they weren't fruitful either. They were just distractions that gave me a 'break' from the sadness. Giving, on the other hand, always led to a lighter feeling, sometimes even to joy.
I love that! It makes so much sense to me, that I should use offer up my sadness to God, and serve him by blessing someone else. I can count numerous memories when I have felt joy at giving. I'm sure everyone can think of these moments in their lives. Giving is part of healing. We weren't meant to serve ourselves.
Thank you, Lord, for giving me the opportunity to serve, to love, and to give to these precious children.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Thankful!!!
I am so thankful for little hands that tickle the piano keys, for a little voice that sings, for a little girl who is blissfully unaware of how amazed mommy is by everything she does!
Mira is two years old, and as you can see she blesses us with her singing often.
Mira is two years old, and as you can see she blesses us with her singing often.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
School memories
Before Ashley, I rarely thought about school and how well a child with special needs would fit in or be included. I remember the first time we discussed what the future would look like and a health care professional mentioned school. At the time, Ashley was six months old and seizing more than 100 times a day. I laughed at the idea of school, brushed the idea aside and tried to move the discussion to more pertinent issues. I was firmly told that EVERY child goes to school. Well, I have to admit that I wasn't too impressed by the implication that I had no say in the matter.
I had no plans to send Ashley to school, unless it was clear that it would be good for her. She was looking better at four and half years old, and actually needing more stimulation. I started thinking that school might be a good thing. Our physiotherapist and occupational therapist encouraged us with stories of other special needs children who blossomed in the school system. I could see that Ashley was positively stimulated by other kids and eventually we agreed that 'yes' school would be a good thing. I had no idea what a blessing it would be.
I am sharing this because I know of a family who has a child with special needs, who was denied admission to a large christian school here in Winnipeg. Their older son was already in attendance at the school. Of course it is not a problem for a school to reject an applicant for a good reason. It would be completely justified and understandable if the school stated that it did not have the resources or proper facility to provide for the special needs of a child.
What I don't understand is why the parents would be subjected to, what sounds like, a harsh and cruel attitude when discussing their daughter. Why would a Principal say that it would not be good for the older son to have his sister in the same school? Especially when the son was so excited to have his sister at school. He had a picture of her in his locker, and was eager to share his experiences with her when he got home. Why would a Principal go on to say that older students would not benefit from volunteering with the special needs child, and worse, that they have better places to spend there time?
I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that there are still people who see a child with special needs and only see the burden, the disability and the problems. But I cried when I heard this because my greatest yearning was for others to see the value in my special girls. My heart broke for the parents as I imagined what it would feel like to hear your child rejected because of their disability. To be told, to your face that your child wasn't worthy or valued. To be told that your child is a burden that no one would benefit learning from.
So, here I am to tell you of my experience with Ashley going to school. Ashley was wonderfully recieved by the entire faculty and the students at Chancellor school. We were pleasantly surprised at the positive attitude of every staff member that we worked with. We really felt that Ashley's presence was valued and highly anticipated. I did not expect such a high level of acceptance, and something else occurred that I didn't expect. Ashley was loved.
It brings tears to my eyes as I remember the day that I realized Ashley had become part of her own little community, full of beautiful children and teachers who truly loved and accepted her. It was the day we returned to Ashley's class to remember her life and we were joined by some students, mom's, and teachers. They had a slideshow of pictures and as the photo's rolled by, my eyes were opened to Ashley's world at school. Children reading to Ashley, holding her hand, and taking turns pushing her wheelchair. Ashley in the arms of her EA during music time and circle time. Ashley sharing her favorite book, 'The Little Engine Who Could', with the children gathered around paying close attention.
Most striking were the multiple photos of one little girl, who was showed up often at Ashley's side. Ashley had a best friend. I didn't find this out until I met Taylor's mom at the remembrance. Taylor's mom had heard a lot about Ashley, and what the girls played with and where they sat, but she did not know that Ashley was in a wheelchair until she saw the school photo of the kindergarten class. Taylor had never mentioned Ashley's disabilities. Taylor loved Ashley just the way she was. That is the beauty of children.
That is the blessing of a having a child with special needs in the classroom. Children are very accepting of differences, especially when their teachers model that acceptance. Without even knowing it, children develop compassion and understanding for the differences in others and it becomes a non-issue.
Taylor still has 'Ashley's pink bear' that we gave her, and the photo of the two of them in her room. I met Taylor and her mom at Brodie's hockey practice the other weekend and was pleasantly surprised that they remembered Ashley. What a special gift.
I had no plans to send Ashley to school, unless it was clear that it would be good for her. She was looking better at four and half years old, and actually needing more stimulation. I started thinking that school might be a good thing. Our physiotherapist and occupational therapist encouraged us with stories of other special needs children who blossomed in the school system. I could see that Ashley was positively stimulated by other kids and eventually we agreed that 'yes' school would be a good thing. I had no idea what a blessing it would be.
I am sharing this because I know of a family who has a child with special needs, who was denied admission to a large christian school here in Winnipeg. Their older son was already in attendance at the school. Of course it is not a problem for a school to reject an applicant for a good reason. It would be completely justified and understandable if the school stated that it did not have the resources or proper facility to provide for the special needs of a child.
What I don't understand is why the parents would be subjected to, what sounds like, a harsh and cruel attitude when discussing their daughter. Why would a Principal say that it would not be good for the older son to have his sister in the same school? Especially when the son was so excited to have his sister at school. He had a picture of her in his locker, and was eager to share his experiences with her when he got home. Why would a Principal go on to say that older students would not benefit from volunteering with the special needs child, and worse, that they have better places to spend there time?
I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that there are still people who see a child with special needs and only see the burden, the disability and the problems. But I cried when I heard this because my greatest yearning was for others to see the value in my special girls. My heart broke for the parents as I imagined what it would feel like to hear your child rejected because of their disability. To be told, to your face that your child wasn't worthy or valued. To be told that your child is a burden that no one would benefit learning from.
So, here I am to tell you of my experience with Ashley going to school. Ashley was wonderfully recieved by the entire faculty and the students at Chancellor school. We were pleasantly surprised at the positive attitude of every staff member that we worked with. We really felt that Ashley's presence was valued and highly anticipated. I did not expect such a high level of acceptance, and something else occurred that I didn't expect. Ashley was loved.
It brings tears to my eyes as I remember the day that I realized Ashley had become part of her own little community, full of beautiful children and teachers who truly loved and accepted her. It was the day we returned to Ashley's class to remember her life and we were joined by some students, mom's, and teachers. They had a slideshow of pictures and as the photo's rolled by, my eyes were opened to Ashley's world at school. Children reading to Ashley, holding her hand, and taking turns pushing her wheelchair. Ashley in the arms of her EA during music time and circle time. Ashley sharing her favorite book, 'The Little Engine Who Could', with the children gathered around paying close attention.
Most striking were the multiple photos of one little girl, who was showed up often at Ashley's side. Ashley had a best friend. I didn't find this out until I met Taylor's mom at the remembrance. Taylor's mom had heard a lot about Ashley, and what the girls played with and where they sat, but she did not know that Ashley was in a wheelchair until she saw the school photo of the kindergarten class. Taylor had never mentioned Ashley's disabilities. Taylor loved Ashley just the way she was. That is the beauty of children.
That is the blessing of a having a child with special needs in the classroom. Children are very accepting of differences, especially when their teachers model that acceptance. Without even knowing it, children develop compassion and understanding for the differences in others and it becomes a non-issue.
Taylor still has 'Ashley's pink bear' that we gave her, and the photo of the two of them in her room. I met Taylor and her mom at Brodie's hockey practice the other weekend and was pleasantly surprised that they remembered Ashley. What a special gift.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Memorial Stone
Larsen's did a wonderful job of Ashley and Hope's memorial stone. This is the photo they sent us before it was installed at St. Vital Cemetary. Next year, I look forward to planting some pink and purple flowers under the stone. Right now I still have the yellow sunflowers marking the spot, along with this stone. So, it's easy to find if anyone finds themselves wishing to visit.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Avoidance
The anniversary of Hope's death, holds the significance of being an 'ending'. I am finding that I grieve the loss of both my girls and everything that came with them at this point.
On Aug. 14th I wrote in my journal:
Today is Hope's heaven day. It has been one year since she died. Today marks the day when our journey with our special girls ended.
Today I grieve the loss of both my girls; cuddles on the front step during a coffee break; walks to the park so we could lie down on a blanket and watch the leaves dance on the trees; tea parties with Brodie; saturday morning baths and hair do's; a soft cheek next to mine as I hum a song.
Today I grieve the loss of our daily companions, our respite workers who helped, nourished and strengthened us without even knowing it.
Today I grieve the loss of 7am medication prep, diaper changes and fluctuating schedules...a 'busy'ness that gave me purpose and direction as I pushed away any 'sad' feelings.
Today marks the day when our lives changed with a certain finality. I still wonder at this change. Although I am living the new normal, it feels odd that life just continues. It should be easier, but somehow it is really hard.
It's interesting that I've felt fairly good about how this year has gone, and then suddenly I was hit by the loss. Reading about Hayden's death (the link to his blog is on the side), I find myself identifying with everything that Lauren is writing. I find myself remembering and hurting...a lot. And I realize that I have done a good job of avoiding the sad feelings, avoiding thoughts of the girls, avoiding the cemetary and avoiding this blog.
Of course, I had my moments where I allowed myself to think, to feel and remember. The obvious moments were easy (birthdays and anniversaries), and allowable, but they slowed me down. A visit to the cemetary would depress my energy level so much that I would struggle for a few days, with a physical and mental exhaustion that always surprised me. I didn't think about it much, I just tried to get through it without getting frustrated. Because I didn't think about it, and acknowledge what was happening, I instinctively avoided the cemetary.
The same thing happened with this blog. To sit down and write about this process, left me open to all my sadness and hurt. I felt too busy to be burdened by such overwhelming feelings of exhaustion, so I avoided the blog more often. Of course, I still had posts, but many of the things I would have posted remained in my head.
I kept myself busy at home, distracted with kids, work and books, and it worked for me. I'm not saying that this was wrong. I'm not saying that I never allowed sad moments. But I am surprised to see that I have avoided a lot of the sad feelings, when I thought I was doing okay with them. There is no right or wrong in grieving...it just is what it is.
I'm reflecting on this, because I've had a hard week. My struggle this week has been incredibly intense, and I wonder if it's because the one year anniversary has left me with a whole lot of emotion. Emotion that I have been avoiding.
I'm sitting myself down to reflect and re-evaluate. So far I've had to remind myself of these truths:
1. Death hurts and it is natural to feel heart-broken
2. It's okay that no one but God knows how I truly feel
3. Friends who listen without trying to fix are valuable
4. My own grief journey is unique and I don't have to meet anyone's expectations
5. I am perfectly loved and accepted right now and always by my God who understands everything.
6. Sad feelings, tears, moving slower and a messy house does not mean I am falling apart
I probably have a lot more to learn, but don't concern yourself with that. I am writing because it helps me a lot. I am also writing because someone might find something useful in what I am sharing. My loss might be unique, but perhaps you can identify with some aspect of my process. It is when we share our struggles, that we find support.
We are blessed that it is not all a struggle. We remember Hope wearing this beautiful dress from her Grandma, at Easter, 2009.
On Aug. 14th I wrote in my journal:
Today is Hope's heaven day. It has been one year since she died. Today marks the day when our journey with our special girls ended.
Today I grieve the loss of both my girls; cuddles on the front step during a coffee break; walks to the park so we could lie down on a blanket and watch the leaves dance on the trees; tea parties with Brodie; saturday morning baths and hair do's; a soft cheek next to mine as I hum a song.
Today I grieve the loss of our daily companions, our respite workers who helped, nourished and strengthened us without even knowing it.
Today I grieve the loss of 7am medication prep, diaper changes and fluctuating schedules...a 'busy'ness that gave me purpose and direction as I pushed away any 'sad' feelings.
Today marks the day when our lives changed with a certain finality. I still wonder at this change. Although I am living the new normal, it feels odd that life just continues. It should be easier, but somehow it is really hard.
It's interesting that I've felt fairly good about how this year has gone, and then suddenly I was hit by the loss. Reading about Hayden's death (the link to his blog is on the side), I find myself identifying with everything that Lauren is writing. I find myself remembering and hurting...a lot. And I realize that I have done a good job of avoiding the sad feelings, avoiding thoughts of the girls, avoiding the cemetary and avoiding this blog.
Of course, I had my moments where I allowed myself to think, to feel and remember. The obvious moments were easy (birthdays and anniversaries), and allowable, but they slowed me down. A visit to the cemetary would depress my energy level so much that I would struggle for a few days, with a physical and mental exhaustion that always surprised me. I didn't think about it much, I just tried to get through it without getting frustrated. Because I didn't think about it, and acknowledge what was happening, I instinctively avoided the cemetary.
The same thing happened with this blog. To sit down and write about this process, left me open to all my sadness and hurt. I felt too busy to be burdened by such overwhelming feelings of exhaustion, so I avoided the blog more often. Of course, I still had posts, but many of the things I would have posted remained in my head.
I kept myself busy at home, distracted with kids, work and books, and it worked for me. I'm not saying that this was wrong. I'm not saying that I never allowed sad moments. But I am surprised to see that I have avoided a lot of the sad feelings, when I thought I was doing okay with them. There is no right or wrong in grieving...it just is what it is.
I'm reflecting on this, because I've had a hard week. My struggle this week has been incredibly intense, and I wonder if it's because the one year anniversary has left me with a whole lot of emotion. Emotion that I have been avoiding.
I'm sitting myself down to reflect and re-evaluate. So far I've had to remind myself of these truths:
1. Death hurts and it is natural to feel heart-broken
2. It's okay that no one but God knows how I truly feel
3. Friends who listen without trying to fix are valuable
4. My own grief journey is unique and I don't have to meet anyone's expectations
5. I am perfectly loved and accepted right now and always by my God who understands everything.
6. Sad feelings, tears, moving slower and a messy house does not mean I am falling apart
I probably have a lot more to learn, but don't concern yourself with that. I am writing because it helps me a lot. I am also writing because someone might find something useful in what I am sharing. My loss might be unique, but perhaps you can identify with some aspect of my process. It is when we share our struggles, that we find support.
We are blessed that it is not all a struggle. We remember Hope wearing this beautiful dress from her Grandma, at Easter, 2009.
Mira wore that same dress to a wedding this summer. Watching that dress dance and twirl around Mira gave me incredible joy as I thought of Ashley and Hope dancing in heaven.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Hope's Day
One year ago today, we held Hope for the last time. Her hair was braided, she was wearing her beautiful, handmade, dress that reminded me of a rainbow. We wrapped her in her special blanket and wondered how we could let her go. And then we watched as the long, black vehicle slowly drove away down our street. Even now, I get tears in my eyes when I see a funeral car.
We are so grateful to the show of support at Hope's funeral, and for the meals and cards and emails and donations. Thank you to everyone.
We just cried a few tears as we watched Hope's funeral slideshow, and now we're heading over to the cemetary as a family. The memorial stone isn't there yet, but will be in about a month. I hope you're able to watch the slideshow and remember our beautiful Hopey with us.
Love,
Jolene & Alex
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
