Memorial Service 2014

We attended the Celebration of Life Memorial Service for those children lost at Children's Mercy on September 28th.  This year brought extra tears as the memorial quilt with Abrielle's square was being retired after 5 years of being on display. 

 

 

We always start with writing messages for Abby and pinning them on the tree.

 

 



 

In the rising of the sun and in its going down, we remember them.

In the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter, we remember them.

In the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring, we remember them.

In the blueness of the sky and in the warmth of summer, we remember them.

In the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of autumn, we remember them.

In the beginning of the year and when it ends, we remember them.

When we are weary and in need of strength, we remember them.

When we are lost and sick at heart, we remember them.

When we have joys we yearn to share, we remember them.

So long as we live, they too shall live, for they are a part of us, as we remember them.

Unfortunately, this is the only way I can take a picture of all my girls together.

 

As you release this butterfly

in honor of ME

Know that I am with You

and will

Always Be

Aunt Beth joined us this year.

A butterfly lights beside

us like a sunbeam

And for a brief moment

its glory and beauty

belong to our world

But then it flies again

And though we wish

it could have stayed...

We feel lucky to have seen it.

Author Unknown

Seven years

How can it be? Seven years without my little girl... I honestly cannot believe it. It does not seem like it was that long that I was holding her in my arms.  My memories with her are so vivid - holding her, rocking, snuggling. Unfortunately so are the memories from the day our lives changed - the sights, sounds, smells. I doubt that they will ever fade. 

Time does not change much. I still miss the sound of her voice every day.  I miss her hugs and kisses. I miss tucking her in at night. I shed tears the same today seven years later.  

I was hoping that I could function this year, but it didn't happen. Tears flowed freely as memories overwhelmed me. The hole in my heart will always remain. Time will never be able fill it. 

Memorial Service 2013

In their name

Who are gone

These young hearts

These flawless souls

In their name

Let our lives grow

~Sascha Wagner

We attended the Celebration of Life Memorial Service on September 15th in memory of Abrielle and other children who passed at Children's Mercy.  The girls enjoy how they can be included in the ceremony and that they get to remember their sister too.

They made leaves for the memorial tree.

Litany of Remembrance
As we gather, let us lift our voices!
Our voices speak the names of our beloved children, who have touched our lives and our hearts.
Remembering their names together we lift our voices in grief,
For we share the common bond ~ the experience of loving a child who has died.
Our voices cry out with a strange mixture of tears and laughter,
For we have experienced the tension between joy and sorrow, deep love and suffering.
As we remember our children, we give voice to both grief and hope,
For even as we grieve, we are transformed by the power of love.
Our voices utter prayers for comfort and peace.
Prayers that weave the names and memories of our children into the fiber of our being and fill us with the courage to face each new day open to the mysteries of life.
In one voice,
We give thanks for our children.
(written by Rev. Claudia Ricks Hubbard)

Like the Butterfly

 

It fluttered there above my head,

weightless in the soft breeze.

I reached up my hand,

it lit upon my finger.

 

Waving glistening wings together

it looked at me for timeless moments.

I smiled, reaching deep and

finding all those cherished memories.

 

As it flitted off through the sunlit morning,

I knew we had said hello once more.

~ Leslie Langford 

We also each receive a small heart shaped stone with an impression of a butterfly in it and a magnet.

 

A Summer of Missing Her

Summer is all but over with school starting next week and I have missed my Abby all summer. 

She would have turned ten years old on June 9th and it was a day of tears for me. Ten years old. Ten. But she will forever be almost four. 

Then I had my sweet Elly with her innocent comments. 
"Mommy I wish Abby didn't die so I would have someone to play with.  Mady doesn't like to play with me very much."  
"Mommy how bout you have another baby and we can name it Abby so we will have an Abby again." 
"Mommy why did Abby have to die? You didn't get died and neither did Sissy. I wanted another sister."

I am sure you also noticed that we did not have the Celebration this year. We were sad to make this decision, but are hoping to be back next year with the family fun.  Not having this in no way means we are not continuing with the Foundation. Abby's Hugs is going strong! So continue to think of us for your donations. 

Progress Finally

As many of you know, this has lived in my dining room for 6 years ~

~three boxes of newspapers, bills, and correspondence. I know I have mentioned in a post before my struggle to deal with these items multiple times, but I had not been able to handle the emotions.  I have started and stopped, moved the boxes around, and whatever else to avoid the project altogether. 

For some reason yesterday I decided it was time.  Time to empty them out.  Time to clean out the clutter so it was no longer looming in the dining room every time I walked through.  I am not sure I realized what I was getting myself into though.  I jumped in with the box of newspapers, cutting out the whole page where any article (about the Foundation, court proceedings, organ donation, or the accident) was.  I did pretty good for quite a while since most of the recent papers were about Foundation happenings.  Unfortunately the further down I got, the harder it became.  I had to force myself just to find what pertained to my search and not read or look at the pictures.  The one that really caught me off guard was a short column that had Abrielle Lauryn Neff in bold letters centered above more writing underneath.  I thought, "Oh, wow.  Abby's birth announcement.  Why do I have that in here?"  That's when the tears started flowing heavily.  It was under the heading of Services Held.  I took a deep breath noticing the bottom of the box was in sight and tried to trudge on.  I cried through finding her obituary, drawings and letters from her friends and cousins, pictures of her smiling face, but then I saw a picture of the accident scene.  I left the pile on the floor and walked away.  I did not sleep well last night knowing what was on my agenda for today. 

 

 

I was so grateful when my Mom called to see what I was doing.  As you know I don't ask for help, but she knew I needed it and came out.  I am pleased to say that we were able to make huge headway.  While the job is not totally finished, the box is empty, the file box filled with documents we have to keep for a few more years is tucked away, and the picnic basket is almost empty.  We clipped articles, sprayed them with preservation spray, and put them into binders for us to keep until it became too much for me.  Then Mom piled them up and said she was taking them home to do.  I love her! 

 

Just clearing that much out has felt like a weight lifted.  It was almost like Abby was prodding me along these last two days saying, "OK Mommy.  It's time to get this stuff done."  Granted I will still have to put them in order and a few other things that I am sure will bring more tears, but the boxes of newspapers are gone!

 

 

On another note, I wanted to share the sentiment I sent home with the preschoolers this year.

 

Every year we give the Preschool class

a small stuffed animal from the Abrielle 

Neff Foundation as a gift and a way of

saying “Thank you” to the kids for the                                   

things they have done to help us                                             

(planting Abby’s Garden at the school                                   

and bringing donations).   This year I have                           

had the special treat of working with your                           

child and have enjoyed it immensely.                                     

Their love, joy, and childhood innocence                             

have helped fill a void in my life.  So I                                     

 must say “Thank you.” also.  Thank you                                    

for sharing your child with me.                                                  

Mrs. Neff

 

 





Shared Words

This was shared on an internet site I am a part of and I had to share it here because I found it to be so true.

I am wearing a pair of shoes. They are ugly shoes. Uncomfortable shoes. I hate my shoes. Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair. Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.. Yet, I continue to wear them. I get funny looks wearing these shoes. They are looks of sympathy. I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs. They never talk about my shoes. To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable. To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them. But, once you put them on, you can never take them off. 

I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes. There are many pairs in this world. Some women are like me and ache daily as they try to walk in them. Some have learned how to walk in them so that they don't hurt quite so much. Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt. No woman deserves to wear these shoes. Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman. These shoes have given me the strength to face anything. They have made me who I am.. I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

A Hard Day

When does it get easier? 

I so wish I had the answer to that question I am always asking myself.  I still have times when the grief floods with me with tears.  Today has been one of them.  Actually, this whole week has been draining.  Somehow, whether I am looking at the calendar or not, I know what day is approaching.  The sleepless nights start.  The headaches, upset stomachs, and the "I don't want to get out of bed" days lead up to the day that I relive.

Yesterday were the Easter parties at school which carry so many hard memories for me.  I held myself together until the end of the day when I was able to cry with friends.    

Today Elly kept asking me to push her on the swing outside.  All I could do was cry.  Six years ago that is how I spent my last evening with Abrielle.  It was hard but I did finally agree to swing.  That was when the next set of tears began to flow.  She put on her cowgirl boots and ran out the door.  All I could see was my Abby pulling on her cowgirl boots six years ago to help her Daddy outside while I was making supper. 

So many flashbacks.  So many tears.  I miss my little girl.  My heart is breaking and I am having such a hard time with my emotions today knowing what tomorrow is ~ the day we lost our Abrielle.    

    

Speech Given

On Wednesday I spoke to a new class at the Treatment Center.  I was actually a little nervous because it had been about six months since I had talked anywhere.  I had planned on updating the speech I give, but as I sat down to do that, I was having a difficult time and gave up.  I am sure it was because I had just gotten through the holidays and decided that it would be fine the way it was since this group had not heard it.  This group had about 17 offenders and most sat very quietly while I talked.  A few wiped their eyes.  I felt I did pretty well and only shed tears a few times, but when I finished I really wondered how I did since I was met by stares and silence.  It took them a few minutes before they asked any questions or made any comments.  I was actually surprised that the ones that are normally asked were not and that only a few were asked.  Usually I spend about 20 to 30 minutes talking after I finish my speech, but this time it was maybe 10 to 15.  I was really beginning to wonder if I had made any impression at all but then as they were dismissed for break, each one lined up to shake my hand and thank me for sharing my story.  My goal each time is to reach just one to make my tears worth it, but I sincerely felt I touched them all in this class. 

In The Paper

This was printed after the tragedy in Newtown and so much of it just seemed to hit home with me so I wanted to share~

By Ann Hood — Special To The Washington Post

PROVIDENCE, R.I. — We are stunned. We are outraged. As a nation, we are questioning laws on gun control, questioning how such a thing can happen. These are all appropriate responses to the tragedy in Newtown, Conn. But there is a repercussion to all this that will continue long after laws are changed and life, unbelievably, gets back to normal: the grief of the parents of the 20 children killed. How many times have I heard that this is a parent's worst nightmare? As someone who has lived the nightmare of losing a child, I know that the enormous hole left behind remains forever.

My daughter, Grace, was not killed by a gun. She died suddenly at age 5 from a virulent form of strep. As I stood stunned in a church at her memorial, one of the hardest things I heard someone say was, “I'm going to go home and hug my child a little tighter.” Well, good for you, I thought. I'm going to go home and scream.

What can be said in light of such grief? What can you do? The problem is that no one can give the parents what they want most: their child. Long after the memorials fade and the casseroles stop coming, that child is still dead, and those parents are still grieving.

I offer here what I have learned about grief in the 10 years since my Gracie died:

I learned that platitudes don't work. Time doesn't heal. She is not in a better place. God does give us more than we can bear sometimes. I have learned that there is more power in a good strong hug than in a thousand meaningful words. I have learned that even in the face of loss, clothes still get dirty and bills still need to get paid. Friends who laundered our socks and answered our e-mails, who mowed our lawn and put gas in our cars, helped us — a lot. The friend who came one afternoon and went through Grace's backpack, carefully storing her kindergarten workbook and papers, hanging her art on the refrigerator and her raincoat on its hook in the mudroom, had more courage than the ones who told me to call anytime.

Some friends sat with me day after day, week after week and, yes, month after month, and let me talk while they listened. I told the story of Grace's last day over and over, as if by telling it I could make sense of what had happened to her, to us. But there is no sense to be made of such tragedy, and when I realized that, they let me wail and bang my fists and curse.

As time passes, people return to their ordinary lives, while grieving parents no longer have ordinary lives. They are redefining themselves, and they are at a loss at how to move forward. There is a woman who still sends me a card on Grace's birthday and every Mother's Day, who sent cards weekly for more than a year, a lifeline to a grieving mother. The people who even now, a decade later, still say Grace's name, still comment on her quirky style and artistic talents and love of the Beatles, continue to help me through my days, simply by remembering her.

How easy it is to look away from grief, as if it might be contagious, or too frightening to face. But the Newtown parents have a difficult, lifelong journey through grief ahead of them. Somehow, the seasons will change, the anniversaries will stack up one after the other. They will, unbelievably, smile again. They will make dinner and change jobs and buy clothes and celebrate and travel. They will go on. But there will always, always, be this grief, softened and dulled but present every minute of every day.

Do not forget that. Look them in the eye. Take them in your arms, and do not let them go
I
Read more here: http://www.heraldonline.com/2012/12/23/4505027/no-time-does-not-heal-all-wounds.html#storylink=cpy

Season 6 Over

Holiday number 6 is over.  The trees are torn down and put away.  It seems like I used the avoidance tactic for the most part this year.  I could not bring myself to take the tree to the cemetery, so Marc and the girls did it.  I held off a good two weeks after the girls started asking before I put the trees up.  The shopping and wrapping were done just days before Christmas.  But Santa still remembered to leave stuffed animals under the Abby Tree.

So now it's on to New Year's and I am super excited that one of our friends from our CMH support group will be riding on this year's Donate Life America float in honor and memory of her daughter.  I asked her to find Abby's flower that we have placed on the float and be the one to put it in its place for us.    

 

Donor Mother Age 45 ~ Independence, MO Business Owner and Executive Director, Blair's Foster Socks Foundation Sponsored by Cytonet in partnership with Midwest Transplant Network

Michele Shanahan DeMoss knew her daughter Blair didn't have a problem with teddy bears. Blair's problem was babies' cold, bare feet. Each time a foster child came into her family's care, Blair asked, "Why do they always have stuffed animals, but no one can find them socks?" Determined to fix the problem, 11-year-old Blair envisioned Foster Socks, a program to provide socks to foster and homeless children. Blair's dream was dashed when she was fatally shot by a nearby Fourth of July reveler, but Foster Socks did not die with Blair, who gave new life to at least six people as a donor. "She would have gotten this done, "said Michele. "Now it's up to us." Michele's Story Michele Shanahan DeMoss knew her daughter Blair Michaela Shanahan Lane didn't have a problem with teddy bears. Blair's problem was babies with cold, bare feet. Each time a new foster child was given to her family's care, Blair asked the same question: "Why do foster kids always show up with stuffed animals, but no one can find them socks?" That was Blair: pragmatic, compassionate, and determined to fix the problem. Her solution was Foster Socks, a program dedicated to providing socks to foster and homeless children that she hoped to launch as part of her Girl Scout Gold Award project. While most girls complete their Gold Award projects as juniors or seniors in high school, Blair had a different sense of urgency. Though not yet a sixth grader, she was already filling journals with ideas and project plans for Foster Socks. She couldn't get warm socks to foster and homeless kids soon enough. Sadly, her dream was dashed before it got started. Celebrating the Fourth of July, 2011, 11-year-old Blair was enjoying the traditional back yard holiday festivities she had since she was two years old at a family home in Kansas City, Mo. Suddenly, Blair collapsed; she had been shot by a holiday reveler firing a gun from nearby. Hundreds of people visited Blair in the hospital, friends, family, civic leaders, pastors. Michele was stunned at how many people her daughter had touched, and she was touched by their words. "Her friends' parents told me their kids wanted to be like her. And so many people mentioned that Blair knew how to live as a good Christian," said Michele. "Her understanding and devotion to that was not about religion. She went to the church nearly every week, but it was never about the building." Blair died the next day, July fifth. She never gave socks to homeless children, but as an organ donor, she may have given new life to at least six people between the ages of six and 60. And, if Michele has anything to do with it, Foster Socks will not die with Blair. "Blair radiated the love and presence of God. She would have gotten this done, "said Michele. "Now it's up to us." Please take the time to read the rest of the float riders' stories and the floragraph stories.  Each one is an amazing gift that changed another life.    http://www.donatelifefloat.org

Holiday Ramblings

Christmas is all but here and it has been a struggle like usual for me. 

It started the day before Thanksgiving for me as I ran to Walmart to grab a birthday gift.  I was standing in the toy aisle, looking at all the boy toys when I began to notice the holiday songs and the Christmas decor.  My chest started to tighten and the anxiety started to flow.  I made up my mind rather quickly about what I would be purchasing and made my exit. 

The next evening after our family dinner, our evening plans were made.  It was decided my sisters were taking the kids to see two different movies and my Mom and I would try to make a couple of purchases during the sales.  I knew from the day before that I might not be able to handle the store, but we would give it a try.  Unfortunately my prediction was correct and I only lasted about 10 minutes in the store before I was calling my Mom to tell her it was just too much.  I could feel the panic attack starting and knew I had to leave before it progressed any further.

Instead I have been online shopping more this year and it has really helping me in dealing with the holidays by avoiding the stores as much as I can. 

We also finally gave in and put the trees all up in one day last weekend so it was all over at once. 

Pictures are done and we had family ones done too this year. 

We used Abby's little red leather purse she had gotten for Christmas her last year with us to the pictures this year. 

 

 

Here is a glimpse at how our Christmas cards are this year. (Hopefully I get them mailed.)

 

Wishing you ~



Peace

 

Love

& Joy

 

And the good thing is there is just a week left and I can be done for another year. 

(And yes, I am doing my best to avoid the recent tragedy in the news because it just brings too many emotions back up for me.)

My Up is Lost

Up.

Has anyone seen it? 

I have just felt so overwhelmed lately that I have felt like I have been struggling to even know which way is up.  (Hopefully that makes sense)   I have just been wanting to curl up and cry.  I have not quite been able to put my finger on the cause....  It is likely so many things adding up which these months are good for.  The talk of Christmas.  The decorations out in the stores.  The music playing already.  The emails that have been flooding my inbox advertising all the big sales.  It all makes me miss my little girl so much and the void feels greater during the holidays.  How I wish that sometimes I can just hide away until the chaos is over.  

The good thing is that I have made it a week without my facade crumbling in public.  Support group last weekend was such a blessing.  I cried more there this time than I had in quite some time.  I left exhausted and drained, but feeling better after sharing with others who are experiencing the same things.  For five years we have been going to these meetings.  Five years and I still don't know when the holidays will be filled with only joy again.  Five years and I still look forward to each group meeting for some sort of healing.  

Both girls made memory rocks in their groups.  Elly also made a doll and filled a glove with play dough, both of which were to help with their feelings.  There were enough older siblings that Mady was able to be broke out into that group which she really enjoys.    
   

A Bit of Hodge Podge

We finally managed to carve our jack-o-lanterns the day before Halloween and of course we had to make three.  We have to make a letter A for our Abrielle. The girls did great cleaning Abby's out and helping carve it.

Elly wanted to hold Abby's little pumpkin (the one I still have not taken to the cemetery) for the picture.


I need to send out some thanks for some recent donation. 

• Thanks to the Heart of American Tractor Cruise for riding for our cause and donating to the Foundation.
• Thanks to Mitch Meyers for sharing your birthday gifts with us.
• Thanks to Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society for collecting items for Abby's Hugs and continuing to take care of the Clarinda program.

It Was Just Too Much

My strength gave way today and the tears fell despite my best efforts.  It was just too in my face and I had no distractions.  I apologize to those of you that saw me crumble as I really do try to keep that to the privacy of home.  And I thank those of you that were there for support in one way or another.  Your caring and understanding mean the world to me during those tough times. 

It was just a Veteran's Day assembly at school and it should have been just that for me too.  Instead, after we were seated with our students and formalities over, the fourth grade class began their songs.  I fought through tears welling up on the first song and was not able to keep them from spilling over by the second song.  I had to excuse myself and take some time to compose myself.  I thought I had myself under control, but only lasted maybe another two minutes before it became too much for me again.  All I could see on the stage were Abby's friends and classmates.  The huge part of my life missing from me was all I could see. 

I really think it had been building up for too long without me expressing anything.  The start of the holiday season always pulls me down and this year I thought I could push the tears aside.  I have had guilt building up for weeks because I have not been able to go to the cemetery.  I have not taken her the pumpkin we picked out for her the first week of October.  I could not get pumpkins carved for the other girls until the 30th.  I have just felt some things spiraling.

I have been hoping that working at the school and mainly with the preschoolers would help me heal some and maybe fill in a little spot in that gaping hole I have.  And some days it does.  They bring me joy and I love each one of them, but there are times that I can't help but think, "that was Abby's cubby,"  "I remember seeing Abby sit at the yellow table eating her snack," " I brought her here just five years ago." 

But, Tuesday is another day at school and I will have my emotions back in check.

A Long Time Ago

At the beginning of the year Elly had to take items and pictures that were about her to school.  Her turn to share these things was last week. As we were waiting to pick up Mady from school, I saw the bag of items in her backpack.  We went through them one by one and she told me what she said about them and what her friends thought about them.  Of course there was a picture of Abby included.  When we got to it I continued the same as I had the others.  Here is how our conversation went...

I told my friends that that is my sister Abby, but she died a long time ago in a car crash. 

It was not that long ago but you were still in my tummy, almost ready to come out.

Oh.  (long pause) Did Mady get died too?

No.  Mady is still here with us.

Oh.  Why did Abby get died?

She was hurt really bad and the doctors could not fix her.  

Oh.  Why did you want to have a car crash?

Mommy did not want to have a car crash.  It was an accident. 

Later in the evening when I was taking her into dance, I pointed out the small wooden cross on the roadside to her, telling her that was where the accident happened.  

What is the cross for?

Just so people will remember.

Remember you had a car crash?

No.  To remember Abby.
 

I know to a five year old, five years is a long time, but the tears still flow like it isn't. 

I see Abby's classmates at school every day.  Fourth graders.  I just can't believe that is how big my little girl would be.  One day it was the mere comment that fourth grade had a big class that brought tears to my eyes with the thought that they are missing one.     

2012 Memorial Service

 
Today was the Children's Mercy Hospital Celebration of Life Memorial Service.  We have attended every year since we lost Abby and I still cry every year. 

The girls left messages for Abby on the tree again this year.

 

 

Elly wrote out her own message this year.

 

It says I (heart) you Abby, in a mixed up order.

 

A butterfly lights beside us like a sunbeam

And for a brief moment its glory and beauty belong to our world.

But then it flies on again.

And though we wished it could have stayed, we feel lucky to have seen it.

 

This year the speakers were parents that we know from our support group.  They spoke about their twin son they lost to CDH after 35 days. 

 

In their name

Who are gone

These young hearts

These flawless souls

In their name

Let our lives grow

~Sascha Wagner

 

The girls always look forward to the butterfly release and this year we released monarchs instead of painted ladies. 



 

 

 

 

 

The sky was filled with all the beautiful butterflies.

 

 

Days like these bring my grief to the front, but when I am surrounded by families that are experiencing the same thing, there is no reason to hide it.  Elly was concerned about me and the fact that I was crying. I explained it was just because I was really missing Abby.  So she snuggled up close, took my Kleenex, wiped my eyes and soon had a few tears of her own.   

Celebration Approaching!

The Celebration is fast approaching!  I hope your calendars are marked for the fun family event.  

Celebration of Children

Sunday, June, 3rd

12-4

Beal Park

Telling Others

I have had several speaking engagements the last few weeks and have shared our story and information about the Foundation to different groups. 

I spoke at the tree planting ceremony for Crime Victims Week at Mozingo again this year about the Foundation.  There was a special remembrance this year for the ten year anniversary of the Conception Abbey shooting.  I listened to Father Riechart talk about the tragedy and the trials he still faces in daily life.  Ten years and the memories are still fresh for him, as I know they still will be for me.  But he stated that he does not live his life in fear as he continues on with his mission.  After the ceremony, I was approached about sharing our story across the state of Missouri.  Every two years the video that is shown for education by the highway patrol on impaired driving is reproduced and they would like for us to be a part of it this year.  I think it would be amazing if our little girl could touch that many lives.

The following morning I spoke to the local Optimist club about the Foundation and how we help children in the community.  Several members were unaware of the many facets of the Foundation.  I was contacted this week that they decided to make a donation to the Foundation!  

I was invited to speak at the Mother Daughter Banquet at Parnell Methodist Church the first week in May.  It was a wonderful surprise to see all the items that had been brought for donations for the Foundation!  I was not expecting that at all.  I started off with one of my speeches, but then evolved into more of a conversation with the ladies.  It was a great setting and we discussed everything from the Foundation to grieving the loss of a child to organ donation.  I was glad they invited me for the event.

Last week I spoke at the Treatment Center to the ICVC class.  I am amazed how much our story touches these men each time I tell it.  I always receive many comments thanking me for coming and how I have helped open their eyes to what their lifestyles cause.  One man did not understand the ripple effect they talk about in class until after I told our story.       

Give The Gift Of Life

April is National Donate Life Month.

I know many of you have heard our story of donation, but it is something we feel strongly about.  I had always made it known that I wanted to be an organ donor if anything should happen to me.  I had my license signed and told family my wishes.  I just never imagined it would be a decision I would be making for my 3 year old instead.  No one likes to think about their own death, much less that of their own child, but for us it was the easiest decision of the day.  As soon as I arrived at CMH, a representative from Midwest Transplant Network was there to begin the process of sharing our daughter's life with others.  As she went through the list of what organs and tissues we would be willing to give, marking yes beside each one for us, I paused at the corneas.  Her eyes.  Her beautiful brown eyes.  That one was difficult, but we said yes hoping they would allow someone else to see the world the way she did.  It was soon after the papers were finished that it was shared with us they knew where her liver would be going.  It was going to bring new life to a little two year old boy in the same hospital.  It was a moment of happiness knowing she was going to be helping another child.  It was the next day that we received a phone call telling us Abby's kidneys were able to bring new life to a woman in her 30s.  We had hoped that more organs would be able to be used, but due to the clotting agents and medications, the others were not.  Organ donation has been the bright spots in the tragedy of losing our little girl.  We hope that everyone will think about becoming a donor, a hero, and save lives.   

Here is a link to other families stories on donation
http://www.mwtn.org/families/donor-stories

And a link to stories of recipients
http://www.mwtn.org/recipients/mtn-recipient-stories

Baby Steps

It seems strange to say that there are moments when I feel like I am finally beginning to heal because I honestly did not think it would ever happen.  I never thought I could have times when the tears would dry up and I could just enjoy being a Mom to my other two girls, but I have experienced a few.  I noticed that since Elly had reached age 4 and is approaching age 5, I had started grieving the things I have not gotten to experience with Abby.  It was difficult filling out the Kindergarten papers knowing I never got to send Abrielle, but I kept the tears hidden.  It was hard taking Elly to get her ears pierced knowing that Abby never was able to and with the memories of Mady having hers filling my head.  (Abby kept trying to escape that day while my focus was on her big sister.  She had other things she wanted to go see and do.)  But there were no tears from me.  

We finally let Mady have a slumber party for her birthday again which had not been done since she turned 6 in Kindergarten.  It was her last birthday with her sister here.  This year it was Elly running around trying to be a big girl instead of Abby.  We even did some of the same things ~ roasting marshmallows and making smores in the fire. But there were no tears, just talks about the memories of the last time while we watched all the girls enjoy the night.  

Last weekend was dance recital and this was the first time I made it through the entire day without any tears.  Abby was in my thoughts as I helped Elly prepare for her dances and as I watched all the little girls on stage, but no tears, just memories.

I really hope this is a healing trend and that I can begin to experience more things without the tears.  I know the memories will always be there but hopefully I can squelch the tears a little more often now.