On August 17, 1974 my mother and father stood before God, their family and friends and promised to love, honor and obey. They took those vows seriously. 37 years later they are no longer here with us, however, their legacy, their love story lives on. They left behind 3 sons and a daughter, all with families of their own. 8 (soon to be 9) grandchildren who loved and adored them. They live on through all of us, we are their story.
They never spent one of their 37 anniversaries apart. Even last year, when my mom had open house at THS, my dad sat in the back of her classroom, waiting to take his wife out to dinner. They loved and cared for each other more than their own selves. I am proud to be a part of their story, I am proud to be their daughter.
Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad. I know you are celebrating in a more beautiful place than I can imagine, and dancing to more beautiful music than I have ever heard. I love you both and miss you more than anything.
In exactly one week my world will change once again, but this time it's an amazing change. One week from today (if not before) my husband and I will be welcoming our second daughter into the world. I am a crazy mix of emotions right now! From terrified, to thrilled, to overwhelmed. I am trying to sort through all of the crazy things I am feeling!
I know it will be a bittersweet day for me, and I am sure for some of my family. Bitter because it will be another event that reminds me of what I have lost. It will be a reminder that they aren't here. Sweet because my family will be complete, the gift that my father sent to me, will finally be in my arms. I would be lying if I said that I am not terrified. Will I be strong enough? My daughters birth will be the true indicator of how I am actually coping. It will be the first big event that my parents are not here to see. Of course, I know that they are watching. But, let's face it, it is just not the same as if they were here to hold my hand, hold my daughter.
I could never explain what Carlee means to me, she isn't even here yet and she has changed my world, changed the way I view the world. She has shown me that life really does go on. She has given me hope when I have felt completely hopeless. She has been my light at the end of a long dark tunnel. And I am pretty sure she has been that for other members of my family. Carlee's birth will be the first really positive big event in a lot of our lives. She is such a special baby, I hope one day she truly understands that.
--Carlee Marie, she is named after my dad, Carl, and Zeb's two grandmothers whose middle names were both Marie. (Yes, I have had to explain that.) I cannot wait to meet her. I cannot wait to hold her. I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life taking care of her and her big sister. I pray that I can have the impact on my daughters' lives that my parents had on mine. Izabella and Carlee truly saved my life. I have gotten out of bed every morning for the last 9 1/2 months for them, to make their lives the absolute best that I can. I hope I am doing a good job of that.
[Sometimes the thought of my parents never getting to meet Carlee is so overwhelming, I begin to panic. Then I take a deep breath and remind myself that they are with her now. Somewhere in heaven they are sitting on a swing watching the traffic go by, they are holding her and kissing her. They are telling her all about her Mom, her Dad and her big sister. They are getting her ready to meet us. They've been with her this whole time, taking care of her until she is here with us. They are teaching her everything that they would if they were still here. When I begin to panic about them not being here to welcome her, I remind myself that they are the ones sending her to me, that she will leave their arms as they place her in mine. Maybe this isn't the way your heaven works, but it is the way mine does. Believing this keeps me sane.]
"It's not fair," those were the words of my then 6 year old cousin when she came up to me and hugged me at my father's wake. Those were the words I have thought to myself over and over again over the last 9 months. The difference between her saying it and me saying it, is that I know better. She is 7 now, she doesn't understand the way life works. She only knows she loved her Uncle and her Aunt and now they are gone, she doesn't know though, how blessed I was to have them for as long as I did. And sitting here writing this, I am trying to remind myself of just that.
When I was just a little girl 2 of my uncles died too. I remember their funerals, I remember not understanding. I understand now.
My parents were there when I started kindergarten, when I had my first broken heart, when I graduated high school. My dad walked me down the aisle the day I said "I do." My mom held my hand while I was in labor with Izabella. They were there for all of my life's "big moments." I am blessed and lucky for that. I know that without a doubt, because I have seen how much it hurts when your parents aren't able to be there.
I have watched my sister-in-law, Alyssa's, brother "give her away" at her wedding because her father passed away when she was still just a teenager. I have seen my cousins go through most of their "big moments" without their dads there to see. Kyle was just a baby when his dad passed away, and his older sister and brother were really just kids. Angie was so young when her dad passed, but the memories she does have she holds very close to her heart. Her older sister and brother were just young adults, just teenagers. That is what is not fair. Grandchildren born who never had the opportunity to meet their Paw Paws. Daughters whose fathers never got to "give them away." Sons whose dads never got to teach them to play ball or how to drive.
I am heartbroken to no longer have my parents. But I cannot deny how blessed I am to have had them for as long as I did.
In some ways maybe I don't know what true heartbreak is. I have watched both of my grandmothers bury their children. And I stood in a cemetery and watched my cousin bury the baby she carried within her body, the baby she loved, and felt move, but never got to hear cry. I do not know that pain. And I pray that I never have to.
I don't know their kind of pain, I just know my pain. I know the pain of having your whole world turned upside down in a matter of months.
The 26 year old me knows that death is a part of life. That I am lucky, blessed and fortunate to have had my parents for as long as I did. But the 6 year old me wants to cry, kick and scream, "It's NOT fair."
I miss them, I want them back. The heartache feels like it will never go away.
