Friday, January 29, 2010

Fingerprint Friday...

 Fingerprint Friday, from Beki over at The Rusted Chain
There is a song by Steven Curtis Chapman that says:
I can see the fingerprints of god
When I look at you
I can see the fingerprints of god
And I know its true
You're a masterpiece
That all creation quietly applauds
And you're covered with the fingerprints of god

Few words today...  I see His fingerprints on....  SISTERS.
And in remembering how breakfast used to be...

Five months in Heaven and my heart still breaks every day... I miss you Mama...


Wednesday, January 27, 2010

6 years... Dear Josie,

Dear Josie,

Six years ago today you arrived in my arms.  I was so very young, unsure of what to do with you and overcome by love from the first moment I saw you.

Now you are a big girl.  A don't need Mom so much anymore girl.  A girls who likes pink and mud and misses her sister and is learning how to love a new one.  A girl who loves chocolate and asked that her special meal today be chicken nuggets.  A girl who's eyes are far older than six.  I'm so sorry.  I'm sorry you've seen how life can be hard.  I know you see how beautiful it is.  I am so proud of you. 

You are my joy, my sunshine, my spirited uncontainable streak of light and sound.  I am still overcome with love for you.

As I bundled you off to school this morning in new converse with your hair done up in your sweet sister Marie's butterflies I kissed you goodby and wished you a good birthday.  I don't have any control over what this world will hand you today, tommorow or the next.  Little bird, I can only hope to be the nest you come home to and to watch you grow until you build a nest of your own.

You are an amazing daughter, the most wonderful big sister in the world and a special, special soul.  I love you Bug.  Daddy love's you too, and Jesus loves you.  Happy birthday Princess Josephine.  What a girl you've become!


Sunday, January 24, 2010

Landon's Hope

This year Landon's Hope is going to be in memory of not only Landon but also Marie.  We have created a team just like last year and will be walking as Our Miracle Marie.  From our team page you can join the team or just make an online donation.  You can also print off a form to mail a donation directly to UMDF if writing a check is more your style.  We are really hoping that this year we can raise some serious money for the United Mitochondrial Disease Foundation.  All proceedes fund research, and our hope is that someday there will be a cure for evil old Leigh's Disease and the literally thousands of other mitochondrial disorders that have stolen too many children from their families arms.

In an effort to raise a little extra money my wonderful friend Tami and I have made up these bracelets, available in purple (because Josie says it was Marie's favorite color) or silver, in adult or youth sizes.  Adult bracelets are $5, childrens are $3.  You can send me payment via Paypal to and I will mail your bracelet off to you so that you can show your support for Landon's Hope.  If you see us in "real life" you can just buy a bracelet from Tami or I also. 

Please help us to raise some cash, join us for a wonderful day at a really beautiful park and help us remember our babies, and know... we have hope.
1 Thessalonians 1:3 NIV

We continually remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Missing in action....

I've been offline all week, and it's been kind of nice.  We had 4 days of no internet, 2 days of no cable and it was like a small vacation.  We were putting new carpet in, upstairs and down.  It looks so good, and feels amazing under bare feet...

I sort of miss the chocolate ice cream stain by the dining table that Marie left though... Luckily despite attempts to fix it the creaky floorboard in the hall is still there.  Every night as I walked to bed with a sleeping Marie it would creak under my feet, it still creeks every night as I walk to bed with a sleeping Sarah...

Exciting news coming very, very soon on Landon's Hope and our team, Our Miracle Marie.  Stay tuned ;)


Friday, January 15, 2010


There is a song by Steven Curtis Chapman that says:
I can see the fingerprints of god
When I look at you
I can see the fingerprints of god
And I know its true
You're a masterpiece
That all creation quietly applauds
And you're covered with the fingerprints of god

Oh yes,

she can!


Wednesday, January 13, 2010


Today I feel tired, defeated, overwhelmed.
Today I have a 4 month old who doesn't feel good and I am getting over the stomach flu myself.
Today I have laundry to fold but won't get it done.
Today I wondered how things are really getting better in our country.
Today the news made me sad.
Today I did yoga and tried to breath deeply but failed.
Today we talked about putting Marie's clothes away.
Today I cried.
Today I can't wait for Josie to get out of school.
I don't know what to make for dinner today.
Today I prayed for people I don't know in a country far away and asked God some hard questions.
I don't expect any answers today, I'm pretty sure He's sad too.
I'm happy it's warm enough to wear my slouchy ripped up jeans today regardless of being a complete fashion disaster.
Today Luke made me smile.
I played with Sarah today.
Today I'm mad about the things I can't change.
I don't think it's fair, today.
I dried tiny tears today after a toy hit Sissy in the face.
I have to go to the market today.
I need to drink more water today.
It's been four and a half months since Marie went home, and just like always I miss her today.  It wasn't so long ago that she was here and I had her to kiss instead of just her picture.
Still, I'm grateful Marie doesn't have to suffer any more today, being sick reminded me of how hard it could be for her.
Today I'm grateful for my husband, because, I am not the strong one today.


Wednesday, January 06, 2010

Where are we now?

We find ourselves in January, in the middle of one of the coldest winters Colorado has seen in recent years.  School mornings bring tights worn under jeans, two long sleeve shirts and snow boots are the normal footwear in our house.  We're remodeling again... new carpeting and finally hardwood in my dining room and kitchen after living with carpet in there since we moved in.  Sarah is growing like crazy and is beginning to sit on her own for short periods of time.

Life is passing, progressing, and there is a normalcy to it.  Only it still feels a lot like someone else's life.

Where are we now?

I feel so different.  I have more time on my hands but I don't manage it as well as I used to so I'm always disorganized and often in a rush.  I've grown my hair longer, I cannot bear to cut the strands that Marie held every night as she went to sleep.  I started doing yoga again to feel stronger, but also to combat a stiff back caused by something I cannot pinpoint.  It might be stress, it might be the extra weight I carry as I find myself at the heaviest I've ever been not pregnant.  It might be from the poor posture you get nursing a baby... I don't know.  Yoga helps.  I'm walking the dog, eating healthy, trying to get back to myself.  Whoever that was, or is now.

I have pictures in mind to paint but cannot find time to put them on canvas, I have words inside me to write but often don't get them down.  I still feel a little like I'm wading through mud, trying to keep up and failing miserably.  I would like to think that I smile a bit more now... I would like to hope so anyway.

I don't want to become a bitter person.  I want to hold on to the light and beauty and love that I learned from Marie.  To continue to live as though she were still with me, to be someone my daughter would know should she come back tomorrow.

I am still a wife, and Luke is still my everything.  I love him more than I did six years ago when I signed the paper to become his wife.  I look at his face and see the lines around his eyes from looking into the sun, the hands that are always rough from work but have performed the gentle tasks of loving our children.   I see a father who is missing his Daddy's Girl but a man who is strong for me despite that.  I am blessed by him.  I look at our faces in the mirror.  They are so familiar, but different now somehow.  Something about our eyes is so much older.  We aren't quite thirty yet.

I am a mother of three.  My Josie is still a streak of light and sound.  Sensitive, curious and quick to argue she is rarely still.  She is independent, wary of those who tell her what to do.  She is always questioning and I often think of Romans 12:2 when dealing with her.  She is hurting still.  She misses her best friend.  She rescues Marie's things, her lovies, her blankets, her trinkets and stores her treasures all up in her room.  It is not the things, it is the emotion attached to them.  She longs for her sister.  Every night when we pray we still kiss Marie goodnight.  Josie says that Marie sleeps beside her.  She likes her baby sister but it's a different relationship.  I do not think that anything will ever be quite like the incredibly close bond shared by Josie and Marie.

Marie, I think of her almost every second of the day.  I miss her constantly.  Yesterday I took Josie to gymnastics without her.  It was hard.  It is hard to do most everything without her.  Marie and I were together constantly.  I am so proud of her.

I look at pictures of her now and am amazed by her.  That I was trusted with her, that she defied expectations, that God made her so beautiful.  She was all dark eyelashes, golden skin, sun kissed hair, rosy cheeks.  All of my daughters are beautiful but when God made Marie He really outdid Himself.  I can still hear her laugh, still feel her weight, and if I think really hard still smell her smell.  She smelled like that hazy hot smell of a day spent in the sunshine and something a little sweet, like strawberries.  I miss her, but I am so blessed to have held her.  I'm glad we were able to give her the life we did.  It was a simple life but she lived where the air smelled sweet after a rain, clean after a snow, dusty in the sun.  She knew grass under her feet and blue in the sky and what grapes from a vine taste like.  She knew walking for ice cream, being thrown in the air by Daddy's strong arms and reading quietly and sharing secrets with her sister and best friend.  She sat with me in July and we watched a thunderstorm together from the winds blowing it in to it's conclusion in a double rainbow.  How many can say they've done that?  She knew church every Sunday and that we loved her and Jesus did too and it was a very good life.  I cry and miss her but I am so glad that she was with us for that time.

My Sarah.  She has a temper.  She is quick to anger, quick to forget.  Easy to smile, but you have to work for her giggles.  She believes she is in charge and that everyone who meets her is in love with her.  She is probably right about the latter.  She is strong.  She stands all the time, is rolling from tummy to back when you can get her to lay down, and is beginning to sit on her own.  I watch her and my heart soars that she can, and breaks a little.  Marie got just that far.  She could sit a little, just before she got sick.  But at six months she could not do it nearly as well as Sarah can at four.

Sarah loves her thumb and will only take a pacifier occasionally. She is a very good eater and a decent sleeper and overall my easiest baby.  I look at her sometimes and am sad for her as her first months are so different from my two older girls.  I have been lost in grieving and trying to heal for much of it.  I struggle to recall bringing her home, her first bath, those hazy baby days.  I give her extra kisses now to try to make up for being so emotionally absent at the beginning.

We are doing.... doing day to day things.  Remodeling, both our house and ourselves, slowly changing.  Our faith is stronger.  We are closer.  We are constantly evolving.  I think that we still live a simple life and are blessed in that.  I love it here, our town, these high plains, the blue of Colorado sky, the fields, the people, our little backyard with grapevines and a swing set, our church with faded blue carpet and the most beautiful stained glass windows where we married, baptized our children and sent one home.

I look at our walls of our house and see the story of Luke and I's life together from our first baby to today... I still say life is beautiful, but it's hard. 
"When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."  Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

Friday, January 01, 2010

This morning...

This morning I woke to sunshine, and these two...

And a husband letting me get a precious extra hour of sleep to make up for Sarah's being up an awful lot on the night before New Years Eve.  Being rested and seeing the sun is amazing for your outlook...

I am blessed.  It's a rough road we're walking right now but I know where we're going, and we'll all be together there.  Being grateful for the peace I feel today...  I think God's fingerprints are all over that ;-)