What is your story?

Life is a funny thing. We go about our day trying to put our best foot in front of the other. We look at the world around us and wonder what the person at the check out is thinking, or why the person at the gas pump was frowning. Somewhere along the way we hear or say how so many people appear to be so caught up in their own world, that they seem so cranky or inpatient. But at the end of the day, do we ever stop and ask them how their day is? Do we ever start a conversation with them to see why they look unhappy, to see if there is anything that we could do to make their day even a little bit better? I think the answer is no. I would love to say I do...but the truth is, I am just as guilty. It's so easy to judge someone by their outward appearance, by not wanting to approach because they seem so grumpy, so busy, or in their own world. But at the end of the day, that's not what I want the kids to grow up doing. As much as we try to remind the kids that maybe their friend that yelled may have been feeling sad or scared inside. Or that, maybe that friend that was really reserved just needed someone to go up to them and start a conversation - I recognize it's not always easy.  Sometimes you don't want to share your story, sometimes you don't think people want to hear it. Often times you don't know how.

Everyone has a story - their story is just as important as your story. That's what I have told the kids for as long as they could understand. That's what I would tell Bryanna all the time.

I have a story to tell as well. But my story is not one that many people are prepared to hear. I know that while I may be smiling and laughing at times, there are many times that I may seem unapproachable or reserved. I may look serious or even sad. But that's my story. I have three kids. Three beautiful kids - 9 year old Bryanna (who would have been 10 in two weeks), 7 year old Evey and 4 year old Liam. As my story goes - I have one daughter that blessed my life with her contagious laugh, her beautiful smile, her candid honesty, her sassy attitude, her love for dance, her struggle with math, her blue eyes, her love for fashion, her unbeatable love for animals, her love for my black heels, her sweet nurturing side, and her love for our special ice cream dates in the middle of the night. I have another daughter who has blessed my life with her quirky smile, her contagious laugh, her giggles in her sleep, her love for inventing amazing functional things, her love for dancing, her new found love of fashionable clothes and matching socks, her love for go carts and archery, her love for cheetahs and leopard print clothes, her nurturing nature, her fixer attitude, her strength and her candid honesty. I have a son who loves to dance, who makes most people smile, who loves hugs, who loves pink, princess Elena, costume dresses, who loves to quietly listen and says the most wise and unexpected things, who loves zooming cars around and who really loves his sisters. 

I have three kids. One in heaven and two here with me. One in my heart and two in my arms. 

Yesterday was one of those days that my story took over my day. It was an impossible day. We have been working with our health insurance provider and the Health exchange to get Bryanna's date of death correctly noted so that we can get reimbursed for the months that she was on our policy but no longer alive. This has been taking place since January. We have sent her death certificate to each company, made a min of 8 calls back and forth and was required to physically take her death certificate to a physical location to show proof of death. We followed up time after time and was told the matter was resolved and to call back in a month or so to apply the credit as it is updated in the system. So, I called yesterday. It was then that I found out that nothing had changed. That they wanted me to go through the entire thing again. Keep in mind, this is not taking a birth certificate or marriage certificate in to show proof of a happy time in your life. No, this is constantly having to prove that my 9 year old daughter, that my first born child died on October 24, 2016.  She died in both Mike and my arms I might add. This just adds insult to injury. They have once again escalated the matter but this means that nothing is resolved, and yet again I have to wait for a call by a supervisor and discuss my daughters date of death to yet another person, to yet another stranger, to resolve a business matter. A cold business matter. 

That was so difficult. So, naturally afterwards I was a mess. I tried to focus on my work (which when upset like that makes it quite difficult to focus on translations). Just when I thought the pain of not being able to hold Bryanna was impossible to get through, I realized that Fireworks started playing on my Pandora station. Fireworks - Bryanna's favorite song. Fireworks - the song that got her through  her final really difficult days. After that Centuries from Fall out boy came on...the lyrics 

"Some legends are told
Some turn to dust or to gold
But you will remember me
Remember me, for centuries"

kept sticking with me. After that song, I composed myself and I started working. I had a pop station on the radio - a pop station that normally ONLY plays pop. As I was working and I was starting to feel more calm, I realized that pop music was not actually playing. Piano music was playing. Not just any piano music...but the specific songs that she loved that would play every night when I put the kids to bed. The specific songs that were on a very different station. I have never had a time where the stations switched like that. I have had this happen before. Early on, when I was playing music at the cemetery and asking for a sign...anything to know that Bryanna was with me...the song I was playing suddenly stopped... suddenly without anything being clicked or in queue, fireworks started playing. There as no explanation...it just was. I know this sounds crazy, but I'm not the only one to have these stories happen. Bryanna is with us. 

 Today, Liam and I had an unexpected lunch date. He wasn't feeling the best, so he was quite.  I told him how amazed I was that our plants were getting super tall because we planted them from bulbs. He says: "oh no, they are so big. What if they grow to the sky?!"I said, "well then bryanna would get to see them too". He responded "Bryanna already sees them".  Let me remind you that Liam is 4.  The power behind his words just blows me away. 

The day before our trip to honor Bryanna and to celebrate Evey and Liam, Evey and I stopped by the cemetery to sit with puppy angel. We were so surprised to see that her headstone had been installed that day. We sat in front of it saying how beautiful it was. As we sat there, my arms around Evey while she sat on my lap - Evey says "Bryanna is happy now". Let me remind you that she is 7. 

The questions at bed time in our home tend not to be about simple things like, will the weather allow us to be outside at camp tomorrow, or why do dogs sniff butts...you know the simple kid stuff. Rather, our questions are loaded and heavy and thought provoking. It's questions like - are there oceans in heaven? Does it hurt when you die? Did Bryanna want to be in heaven as much as she wanted to be here with us. Did Bryanna have a cold that led to her leukemia. Will I get it? 

This is our story. 

Before you judge a kid for having a melt down or not listening in public, before you judge a child for always being in their mom or dad's arms, even though they are old enough to run around on their own, before you judge a lady at the store for looking unapproachable, before you judge a man who seems inpatient, take a moment and ask what their story is. You never know, that kid may have lost a sister to a horrible cancer. That kid may be terrified of leaving their parent's side because they had to leave their sister's side and she died. That lady may be a mom who is trying to make sense of her daughter's death and is thinking what she could make for dinner that would make her kids smile and forget their pain even for just a moment. That man may be thinking about the last discussion he had with his daughter or may be thinking of how he had to rush to the hospital to be by her side as she passed away.

Everyone has a story - we can choose to have a bad day or choose to have a good day. What we do with our story is what defines us. How we get through the impossible days will give us strength to be present. It is with that presence that our story will keep growing. There is so much darkness in my story - but I believe that the sun will continue to shine bright and light our way. I believe that the days may be hard, but we can always find something good in it. We can always choose to do good. As I was reminded by a very wise man today, we need to remember to find three things we like every day. That's so important. Our story isn't all bad. We had 9 beautiful years with Bryanna. We have beautiful butterflies, animals and nature all around us. We are surrounded by people who love us. We are living each day feeling Bryanna's Love. We have each other. 

We have to live our story, but we also have to make it count. 

This is my story. 

Grape Scented Bubbles and Never Ending Hugs

We are a full week into Summer vacation and emotions have been running high. Like every family, we have so much going on in each and every day. We have camp, doctor appointments, counseling, work, and the time somewhere at the end of the day that we sit on the couch and at least one person falls asleep.  We need to find a way this summer to slow down. To let life happen without exhausting our energy all day every day. We need to breathe.

A week ago school ended. June 19th marked another first since Bryanna was diagnosed with cancer and subsequently passed away. The end of the school year came. I remember the first day of First grade for Evey and PEP for Liam. It was also the first day of fourth grade for Bryanna. It was a day she was dreading because she was certain she was not going to make any friends. It was a day that we never expected to look like it did.  The first day of school came about a month after our life was changed forever. It came a few weeks after I emailed Bryanna's team at school to let them know that she would likely miss the beginning of the school year. That she had been diagnosed with Leukemia and that we needed to get her into remission before she could go back. It was during that time that we were hoping that at the very least, she could attend in a month or so, but then decided collectively with her team of doctors that she would not attend school at all this year. We were all too concerned that it would be too dangerous for her. We were concerned that even if she reached remission, that she would be near kids and germs and contagious colds that could set her back. We were concerned that the stress of school would not help her heal (School was a very stressful hard place for Bryanna. It didn't come easy in so  many ways and she struggled every day). Moving forward, the first day of school for Evey (Liam started a day later) was a surreal day that we all tried to get through with a smile and with grace. Mike and I arranged to make it possible for me to stay home the night before school started and to take Evey to school. Mike stayed with Bryanna - We wanted to make sure that Bryanna felt special and loved as she laid in her hospital bed dealing with chemo, nausea
, excruciating pain and her hell we know as cancer. At the same time, we wanted Evey to feel special - like her day mattered, that first grade was a big deal and that we were present for her just as much as we were for Liam and just as much as we were for Bryanna. Making her feel special and being present wasn't hard. It was knowing that as I stand with Evey as she sits in line with her new classmates, as I talk with her teacher briefly, as I hug her and take our first selfie of the school year and swing her around and smile ear to ear, I knew that Bryanna was fighting for her life. That Bryanna didn't have a choice. Bryanna was not at this school, in the cafeteria with all the other kids lining up with their new teachers and classmates about to start a new school year and excited about being in the fourth grade. That was such a difficult balance. It was hard. It sucked. After leaving the school only after giving  Evey 100 hugs, and telling her that we will be there to pick her up, that she will have a great day, and we are with her in her heart the entire day...I got my ice coffee...pretty much the one drink I had all day while I stayed at the hospital. I then started on my hour long drive to the hospital crying most the way and rushed in to Bryanna's room as she was waiting for me anxiously. Mike had to leave shortly after I arrived so he could get to work, but once again we seamlessly made sure that all three kids mattered, that all kids felt loved and somehow, we did it together.

Flash forward a few months to last Friday. It was so sad to know that Bryanna would not be moving up to Fifth grade. She would not be excited for the last day of school...the day when we always treat the kids to ice cream or the dinner of their choice. It was a day that we celebrated a job well done for Evey and Liam. It's a day we realized that we made it through the year. But the void is still there. I am so proud that the kids made it through this year. It was brutal for them. It was painful. It was hard. It was emotional. There were times that I didn't think we would get through it. But we did. Next year is going to be hard too. Starting school will be another transition that Evey will likely struggle with. It will be another confusing change for Liam but we will do it.
It was sad to me that as we ended school, instead of holding Bryanna's hand out to the car as they liked to do, Evey was holding the donation box that we had in the office for Bryanna's Love...containing stuffed animals to give to kids like Bryanna, fighting for their life and missing out on the normal kids things. It made me so proud to see how much she wanted to help. How much she wants to be a part of Bryanna and her story.  From the outside, it may just look like a little girl carrying a big box, but to me it was a huge mile stone. It was Evey being okay with that box. It was Evey dealing with the fact that the box is the closest thing we had of Bryanna in that moment as we left the school on her last day of First grade.

All this comes a week after the Memorial that Children's National Medical Center's Grief and Remembrance program hosted for the families of children that passed away at the hospital over the past two years. It was beautiful and emotional all at the same time. We were dreading going, but we needed to do this. We thought we could get through it until we walked through the door and was greeted by a handful of her team from the hospital. They volunteered to work this year. They volunteered to be there knowing that Bryanna was going to be honored along with all the others beautiful kids. It was in that moment that I wasn't so sure that I could do it. It's one thing to be there with a large room full of strangers, and it's an entirely different thing to meet people that make all the difference for your family. It made all the difference to us that they were there. They knew us by name. They knew Bryanna by name. They made Evey and Liam feel special. They knew. They just knew. They made sure everyone was given a packet with a butterfly that we would let go when the name of your child was called. It was so beautiful. It was so magical...it would have made Bryanna so incredibly happy.  I was taking pictures of the kids during this during which I was so touched by the incredible bond that Evey and Liam have. They show such strength through this undeniably hard time. They show love and support, even though they don't always  understand it. They are sad-mad, happy, angry, hurt, scared and every other emotion that they can feel. But they both get it. They both understand each other, even when they don't put it all in words. Yes, they have their moments, but more often than not, they are right next to each other unknowingly getting the other through this struggle. I miss the pictures of the three of them together, but I'm grateful that they are so close that they want to be together. I did not plan any of these photos - they were completely candid, which make them that much more powerful to me. We had some really great ones with the kids and butterflies, which we like to think one might have been Bryanna...especially the one that kept staying near or on us. But out of respect for Evey and Liam's privacy, I can only show you a few.  I'm grateful that we are in a time where we can easily take pictures and videos. I need to keep taking advantage of that because those pictures and the few videos I have is what gets me through some of the toughest days of missing my baby girl.

The remembrance tree (I'm not sure if that was the exact name) - All the siblings wrote a message for their brother or sister. These were then put on by each child to a tree for the ceremony. After the ceremony, the remembrance team put them on a tree in front of the hospital for the wind and rain to bring each message back to the earth. Each message was voiced by Evey and Liam and Mike and I transcribed. 

Bryanna was one of way too many children's picture that was up in the front of the hall to be honored. Way too many children passed away. Way too many families were feeling our pain. Way too many people continued to suffer. 

One of my favorite pictures - This is the truth of our life right now. We miss Bryanna so much, try to be so close to her, even when we don't realize where we are sitting, what we are facing and what we are doing. 

Holding onto that butterfly and making sure it was safe really was the kids trying to hold on to a little bit of Bryanna. To touch her, to be there with her. To feel her. ..

This little butterfly kept landing on us. On my head, on Mike's hand, on Evey's dress, on Liam...and on Bryanna's picture. Over and over.  It makes me wonder....

Moving forward to this past week. The first week of camp. The camp that Bryanna loved so much, that was so wonderful to Evey and Liam over the year. It was a camp that did everything in their power to make Evey feel okay while Bryanna was first diagnosed and in the hospital during the summer. This is the same camp that helped put an amazing celebration to honor Bryanna after Bryanna's passed away. We love them. But it was the first time that the kids had to get back into the swing of camp...without Bryanna. It was hard. Evey struggled to go every day because she was only a stone's throw from where Bryanna's used to be. She struggled to be away from me, her safety. She struggled to be okay during assembly...the most energetic time during camp where they have skits, dancing and all around amazing fun. That's when Bryanna and Evey would sit together, dance together and sneak their last hug before embarking on their day with their group (Liam was at daycare on the same property...but this is the first year that he is old enough to be with the big kids). The second day of camp came with many challenges. They both had a dentist appointment and then Evey had an ophthalmology appointment where she learned she had to have an eye patch for an extended period every day for the entire summer. NOT a highlight of her summer for sure.  But getting her back to camp that next day was a flashback to how she struggled at school after Bryanna's passed. It was a lot of crying, running back to the parking lot (which scared me), having to have a strong team of people on the ready to help her get in the groove of camp and distract her just long enough for me to leave. It was trying. It was exhausting. It was heart breaking.  I was so tempted to take her home, to snuggle her and to let her have a movie day with me. But that doesn't help her face this, and that doesn't make any of it go away. Besides...they made sure to take her aside and let her do archery. one on one with the lead counselor..which made her week. During this week, Liam struggled to keep up with his group. His asthma continued to flare up and he progressively started to struggle. He started to not feel well even more than before, and it was a hard balance of letting him go to camp and making sure that he was healthy. On Thursday, I picked him up early because he had an asthma attack. Code orange air quality coupled with smoke from the camp fire put a big damper on his breathing. We got him home, gave him a nebulizer treatment and he slept and snuggled the rest of the day. And then he spiked a fever. For the past few months, Liam has been losing weight, falling, fatigued more than before, not much of an appetite, having leg pain, vomiting and having stomach pain. And now he spiked a fever. His team of doctors are doing their due diligence to find what the problem is. In the mean time, we try to keep him as active as possible and send him to camp. We are hoping that whatever is going on...we will finally figure it out, and he will have an easier time at camp. He talks about Bryanna so much more on the days that he goes to camp. It's pretty amazing to hear our kids who struggle to express these feelings, to talk about heaven and Bryanna so freely as we go to camp. I'm hoping that while they have fun, after they get over the anxiety of being there and they start enjoying their day...hopefully somewhere along the way the find a little nugget of peace.

After Liam talked about Bryanna being in heaven on the way to camp last week, Evey told me that she hates that word. That she thinks it should have been called something else. I agree...heaven doesn't sound the same to me. But then again, it's a place that my beautiful girl is when she should be here with me. It is a place that I can not go right now. It is a place where we can not hold Bryanna. Anything we name it would be tough to swallow. We wouldn't like it if we called it the park or Disney world either...because the little girl we love is there and not here with us.  But at the end of the day, we have to have faith. We have to know that heaven is a beautiful place of peace and happiness. It is a place that Bryanna no longer feels pain or suffering, that she is happy and that she is not alone, not scared and is okay. 

Hopefully the grape scented bubbles that greet the kids, along with the high fives, the personalized shout outs to each of the kids, the fun music, the great activities...and hopefully the making of friends...will allow the kids to put their guard down and to enjoy each activity, enjoy the moment and find a little bit of peace. 

That's what I want. I want the pain to subside just enough to find peace. I want to know that when the kids melt down it's because they are dealing with kid emotions and kid things...not grown up issues like the death of their sister. I want to make it all better, but I know that's not possible. I want to hold Bryanna. I want to talk to her again. I want to smell her. For now, I will settle with grape scented bubbles at camp. I make sure to continue to hold the kids every day. I want to let them let go of me first when I hug them so they know that the hug is there for as long and as often that they need it. 

I want wake up to three kids excited about their day...not just two. But these are the cards I am dealt. We will be okay. I will continue to breath and get through each day. Even the impossible ones.

Evey and Liam basking in the joy of catching grape scented bubbles, and about to high five more people than the average athlete does on their way to the field. It is a moment of happiness, a moment excitement before they think about Bryanna not being with them...dancing all the way in. Bryanna's love for camp was contagious...

The simplest acts leave the best memories.

It's been a while since I have post a new entry to my blog.  My hope starting this blog would be to update it often, to use it as an avenue to share my thoughts, my struggles, my memories, my laughter. A place to heal. It has helped. It truly has. But I realized it is also so very hard. Some days writing down my thoughts seem harder than the memories that I want to keep alive. There is a wall that I put up. A wall that needs to come down a little more often. It is a wall of survival. It is the barrier between me functioning and being present in life and for my kids, and burying my head in my pillows. Without this wall, I don't think I could be present. This wall has made it possible to just be. Be a mom. Be human. Just be. But I realize, that I have to let the door open a little.  The reality is that we are no longer numb. I am no longer numb. That wall went up pretty early on as the numbness started to subside.  It gives me focus on the days that I just can't, it gives me courage to take that next step when I don't think I can...but I have to take those steps and feel at the same time. I have to remember that feeling is healing. Feeling is being human. Feeling is being alive.

Bryanna wanted to go to Disney Wold. She wanted to meet Princess Elena and see the animals at Animal kingdom lodge. She dreamed of being with the animals and princess every day. We talked about it extensively. She responded to the story of Disney when she was in the CICU. But ultimately she never was able to get her wish trip. At the exact time that we were picking out where to lay her to rest at the cemetery...when we were choosing her plot, Make a Wish called to discuss her Wish Trip. Words can't describe the devastation, the loss, the timing.
We wanted to make that trip happen. We wanted to give an unforgettable experience to Evey and Liam to honor Bryanna and to celebrate them. To give them some down time and fun away from life. But such a trip came with a very hefty price tag. One that we could not afford any time soon. We are still paying off Bryanna's medical bills, plus payments for her headstone, and every day bills. It just wasn't going to happen any time soon.

Just when I was going to give up on the trip, something absolutely amazing happened. Casey Cares Foundation heard Bryanna's story. Bryanna yet again touched the hearts of people that she never met. Though they typically do not do such lengthy far away respite trip, they rallied their donors and they made it happen. An amazingly generous donor donated a beautiful room in a spectacular resort in orlando, Medeival times donated a dinner show, American Airlines donated round trip tickets, in addition to the gift cards, treats, pjs and gifts for the kids... Then, we were connected with another amazing organization called Growth from Grief. Without hesitation, they donated a day at Disney, Seaworld, the Bones Museum and Coco key.  This trip became a reality. It was so hard to think about how we were on the receiving end of such amazing generosity, and that we indeed qualify for it because we lost our princess warrior. It is through these organizations and donors that we found more moments of happiness, of relaxation, of pure joy in the kids that we never thought was possible again. Our pilot on our way to Orlando talked with me a few moments before boarding while getting his manifest for the flight, and then went out of his way to talk with Evey and Liam about their first upcoming flight and trip. He asked the name of Evey's buddy she was traveling with (Sid..who is Evey's trusty weighted turtle) and Liam's lovey. He then invited them to the cock pit to experience a moment of being a pilot. During his greetings through the intercom while we were getting ready to taxi on the runway, he welcomed Evey, Liam, Sid and Lovey on his plane. It is in these moments that magic is made. The cast members at Magic Kingdom went out of their way to make it special for the kids, for us. They did so many moments of kindness that meant so much. The team at the Marriott went out of the way to make a special basket of goodies for Mike and I, a ton of welcome balloons and a stuffed animal for both Evey and Liam. Every detail was beautiful. Every detail of this trip counted. Every detail from every person involved in making this happen made a difference.

We saw the kids drop their wall and have fun. We saw the kids splash in the pool and get excited about balloons and stuffed animals. We saw them be kids again. Until they remembered why we were there. While there were so many amazing moments and times, there were also tears and questions. Before going out to dinner one night, Evey and I sat in the kitchen of our hotel room and cried. I sat there holding Evey on the cold floor letting her pour her soul to me while Mike listened next to us and Liam tried to stay busy. I watched Liam look lost and sad as we go to bed or when he would be eating a desert, and say how much he missed Bryanna. This trip was so important. It was another opportunity for us to try to piece together our hearts and take another step forward through the pain. It was important for the kids to see that yes, they do indeed matter. But it was hard. While we enjoyed our time away, everyone was ready to come back. But being back was a stark reminder of our loss. Coming home didn't bring us Bryanna back. It brought us home to a void that we thought would be better. Sure, we know that this is life, that this is what happens after death, that nothing will bring Bryanna back. But sometimes, it just feels like she will be there waiting for us. She's not.

Liam asks about Bryanna. He asks about why we can't go visit her in heaven. He has to deal with a very adult concept at such a young age and try to grasp some level of understanding. That's hard. He had a doctor's appointment at Children's National yesterday. He was incredibly whiny and clingy the entire time. While we waited for Mike at one point, he told me he was sad that he couldn't see bryanna. That he knew this was the same hospital that she was in. On the way home, he asked if the cemetery we were passing was Bryanna's. It was not. These are the questions and the stress plaguing my four year old's mind. He got a little stuffed animal to keep during this visit and Mike got one for Evey to have as well. As they talked about their new pets, Evey asked where his appointment was. I told him it was at the hospital. She then so very gently told Liam that she didn't realize he was going to Bryanna's hospital. She asked how it was. He said if was ok. They both sounded so sad. This is our reality. Liam has another appointment there next week. It doesn't get easier.

Evey was so mad that she had to stop playing on the swing last night. So very mad...like screaming and yelling kind of mad. But in the end, it came out to be her only way to control her life in that moment. She really was really mad about Bryanna. She missed her so much that it hurt. She asked how I knew that Bryanna died and I told her how I laid next to Bryanna when she died. She screamed, she cried, she just wanted to be on that swing. Swinging was the one thing she could control. She could control how high she was, how much she would spin and when she would go or stop. It is so easy to think that she is just being a kid who is being demanding, unruly and defiant. But really, it is in that moment that she is trying to hold on to the little bit of life that makes sense. It is Evey's way of forgetting the pain, forgetting the void and trying to just be a kid. Losing that moment pushed her over the edge for the night. Dinner, bed time...it was all tears, it was all anger, it was all pain.

The day before we left on our trip, Evey and I stopped by the cemetery. Bryanna's headstone had been installed that day. The day before we were leaving on our trip to honor her and celebrate E and L. It was so beautiful yet so final. This Sunday, Children's National is honoring the children who have passed away at their facility by having a memorial service. Next week is the last day of first grade (liam will continue in pre-k for one more year), and would have been the last week of fourth grade for Bryanna.  We have to continue to have the strength to keep taking that next step. It is hard. It is painful and there are days like today where it almost feels impossible. But the sun is shining - butterflies and birds are fluttering around reminding us that there is so much life in the simple things. The kids are transitioning to another part of their year.  We have to take these little moments, these little steps and enjoy the moments of smiles, of winks, of kisses and hugs, of happiness. We need to feel the sunshine and breath in the warm air. We need to take note that through the low, we are blessed with amazing people around us that are there to pick us up.

Words cannot express our gratitude and appreciation for everyone who made this trip happen, for everyone who was there for us during Bryanna's treatment and afterwards through her passing. There are no words that could truly express how I feel most days and how much I recognize what everyone does for us. I have no words, just love.

We will get through the  moments. We will release the butterfly during the memorial and we will continue to love through the pain.

The simplest acts leave the best memories.

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