Seven Years

Time marches on, yet I can still feel the ache. We recently sold the house in St. Charles and I had to face that box. I peeked inside and then fled, leaving Shawn to physically move it for me. It is now tucked away on a shelf, patiently waiting.

Your brother continues to be the light of our lives. He lives life so joyfully and full of exuberance, it is a lesson to me. Remembering to focus on the best in life, despite the ache, and to cherish it fully.

I so cherish those brief moments, now seven years ago, with both of you in this world, they are some the most precious I hold in my heart. I also cherish this ache, because it means that I remember the joy that you gave to me.

Happy Birthday, Mary and Christopher. We love you so.

Eeyore’s Rainbow 

I finished these a couple months ago, but just realized I never posted about them. Shawn requested a pair of socks for his birthday and I thought this grayscale stripe, with the amazing name Eeyore’s rainbow,  from Must Stash Yarns would be perfect. I love the pop of hot pink for the contrast cuff/heel/toe. It reminds my of Eeyore’s ribbon on his tail. I used this pattern again. 

I had enough leftover to make a pair of Eeyore’s Rollers for myself using this quick and easy pattern. It’s perfect for using up that leftover yardage and I’m already planning my next pair. These were so fast to work up that I finished the pair while on our vacation in Hilton Head last month. They’re perfect for warm weather or wearing to bed! 

Six Years . . .

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Time continues to fly swiftly by. I still visit that bench, although not quite as often.  Another year has passed without opening that box. Perhaps next year I will have the strength and courage to do so.

Your brother grows and thrives, so vibrantly, he seems to glow from within. At times, I like to think that he carries not only his own brightness, but yours as well. Maybe it is just a reflection, a trick of the light, I can’t help but think of both of you when I catch a certain twinkle in his eye or the sun shines down on his shoulders.

Though we shared only a few precious moments with you in this world, they are some the most precious I hold in my heart. On this day you gave me the gift of motherhood, a gift I will cherish forever. Happy 6th birthday, Mary and Christopher. We love you so.

Joseph 3rd Year Retrospective

I just love looking back at all of Joseph’s monthly posts from this past year. Not only does it capture his growth, it reminds me of all the fun we’ve shared. (Here, you can check out his first, second, and third retrospective here.)

5 Years . . .

There is a box in my closet that holds a piece of my heart. I cannot open it for it fills me with dread whenever it happens to catch my eye, yet it is cherished and  I will never let it go.  This one small box contains all the earthly artifacts I have of the twins. Photos that I can’t bear to look at, yet are seared into my heart and brain.There are hospital bracelets, birth certificates, death certificates, and the guest book from their funeral. Tiny foot prints on index cards, rattles that were never held, prayer cards. . . doll-sized clothes that were given to them by the hospital. I hate those clothes, they are stiff and itchy to the touch, reminding me of how unbearably fragile and soft they were. The box is full of the ephemera  of heartache, pain, sorrow, grief, joy, hope, and love. Someday, I hope to be able to open this box again, to be able to look at these precious bits without staining them with tears. Today is not the day.

 

 

Five years  now have gone by. I still visit that bench, but not as often. Your brother tears me away, holding my hand and dragging me into the frenzy of life with an almost 4 year old. But please know, Mary and Christopher,  you are still bright, shining stars that guide my way. Mommy loves you.

4:23am

I sit. I wait. I whisper. I get angry. I get sad.  I leave the room. I go back. I’m patient. I’m frustrated. I’m exhausted. I love him. I want to run away screaming. I hold firm. I cave in. I silently scream. I sing. I hold him. I push him away. I count. I read. I cry. I count the minutes. I count the hours. We do not sleep.