Monday, April 30, 2012

Close Encounters of the Goose Kind

I took Eddie and Kailyn to the zoo the other morning. They both love going to see all the animals. This time Kailyn had her trusty map to help guide us through the very large (small) zoo here. Kailyn loves to watch the Hippos, just like her Mama. What can I say? I find them fascinating. I mean, surely Heavenly Father has a sense of humor to have created such an ironic lookin creature.nothing about it makes sense or is proportional. Then there's Eddie. His favorite animals are not quites so... exotic. See, he loves...the geese and ducks. He just won't leave them alone. He chases after them saying, "mumble mumble mumble pet duck," and when I try to tell him he can't pet the duck he just grins that adorable, "Mom, I'm cute and can do whatever I want" grin and off he goes chasing the "ducks" again.  I decided to follow him and see just what happens when left to his own devices. Here's his close encounter with some geese.

Monday, April 2, 2012


Tonight I should be asleep, but I'm not.
Tonight I'm thinking of you instead.
Tonight, I'm wishing I could hold you.
And tonight, I'm thinking of how it all began 6 years ago with such excitement and such promise but then changed so fast.

It's funny how every year at the exact time it hits. This sense of sorrow and loss...and sadness. And every year I have to stop and think "why?" And then I all started here.
Although we lost you in the summer, our journey began in the spring. Consciously, I don't even think about it, but somehow, some part of me is always aware of the time of year. From now until July I'll mark each milestone in my mind...this is when we found out we were pregnant, this was our first appointment, the day I first bled, our last ultrasound, etc. until, finally, the day we met you and said goodbye all at once. It was the shortest longest 20 weeks of my life.
It's one of those dividing moments in life. The before and after kind. Before marriage, after marriage. Before kids, after kids. Before my son died, after my son died. It was the beginning of my Gethsemane; that trial in life that takes all that you have to survive. The one that you're just not sure you'll get through. You beg and plead with the Lord to take the trial from you, to not let you go through it because you won't make it. But you do, and you look back and wonder how you did it. And in time you understand that He carried you through it, even when you thought He'd left you alone. You never want to go through it again, yet you wouldn't change it either. Because of what you've gained in return for your sacrifice.
I spent years trying to understand and come to grips with all that happened. I questioned and doubted, I struggled to find answers. It was not easy for me. For the first time in my life I was forced to rely wholly on the Lord.
Yes, my faith was tested, but it was made stronger. My understanding of myself and of my Savior and Heavenly Father increased. And I learned things, so many things, that I couldn't have learned any other way. I am a better person, a better wife and a better mom because of you, baby boy. I would have never chosen this path for myself, but I'm grateful that the Lord knew I needed to walk it.

And so, tonight, I'm thinking of you.
Tonight, I am missing you and longing to hold you.
Tonight, I know that the struggle is never over and the sorrow will always be just beneath the surface.
But, tonight, instead of just sadness, I am also thankful for all that you taught me, without ever saying a word.

Goodnight, baby boy. Mommy loves you.

Robert Allen