The Power to Live

It's been quite a while since I last posted an entry in my blog. A lot has happened since that last post. You may wonder what happened in that time that I chose not to post my thoughts. Well, simply said- I lost my voice. I lost my courage to share my thoughts. I no longer felt brave. I was merely surviving each day. I was surviving knowing that my daughter didn't survive, so I pushed through and tried even harder to get through it all. And then during our time of grief, when I was just trying to make sure that we were doing more than surviving, that we were living -  judgement happened. Yes, surprisingly, a couple of people voiced their judgment and opinions in the worst way possible on my parenting. They voiced their judgment on the death of Bryanna, on the cancer. They voiced their judgment on the fire that took place now 3 years ago that started in our neighbor's apartment and stripped us of everything we owned. They voiced their judgment on a whole lot of things that struck me to the core. It stripped me of all the courage I was mustering to get up each day and put on a brave face and step out into the world. It forced me to feel the need to retreat and to trust only those closest to me. It made me feel the desperate need to suddenly shield my kids from the evils in the world...to protect them even more from the world.
But now, some time has passed, and I am at a place where I need to find a way to get past that. To trust those around me and know that sharing my grief is okay, it is safe and it is important.  For anyone who doesn't know me - and as you read my blogs - please know that my number one priority is the safety and health and well being of my children...all of them. I may share a few things about stuff they do or say, but out of respect for them, I use caution on what I share. They will always be my number one priority.

So, putting all that mess to rest, the bottom line is that Bryanna died. She died after battling a horribly painful and scary disease. The only solace I get in her death is to know that she is no longer in pain or in fear. I know that she did not feel pain when she died. I know that for a fact.  Now as I sit here over a year after laying in that hospital bed with Bryanna and holding her, telling her that it is okay for her to go to sleep. Telling her that we love her and that we are so very proud of her - as I laid there panicking because her body was no longer warm. As we walked out of the hospital knowing we now had to tell Evey and Liam. As we sat down with them that miserable night and told them that Bryanna will never come home - As I remember all these details in distinct detail, I am also forced to make sure I am present for Evey and Liam. I make an effort to look at the kids when they are talking to me. I put my phone down at dinner and focus on talking about silly things that took place during their day. I make a point to tell Evey and Liam that they are beautiful, that they are brave, courageous, strong, silly, kind. I make a point to tell them how much they matter, and how much I love them. Truly, with all my heart.  Of all things to contend with in our life these days, that is the easiest. Evey and Liam are the light shining in the dark days. Evey and Liam have given me the purpose that I know I would not have had after Bryanna died.  I'm so grateful to have been blessed with my kids.

Life is a funny thing. It really is. It is not at all like I had imagined or expected it to be. With all the challenges that each of my kids have faced through the years, and still do face, life keeps me incredibly busy in a day.  I sit down at the end of the day thankful that we made it through another day. As hard as it is, I can only imagine how difficult it is for the kids. Liam has started to "get the angrys" and growls when he is frustrated, and Evey gets really upset at bedtime. Why you may wonder? Because it doesn't matter how much time has passed, the fact is that we still and will always have a hole that just can't be filled. The fact is, the kids still go to school where life goes on, but Bryanna isn't there. The fact is, we have an empty row of seats in our car that we see every day. We have Bryanna's toys and stuffed animals that are mixed with their toys, yet they know exactly whose they are. The fact is, the kids equate time with "Before Bryanna died, or after she died". The fact is, we have a bedroom that once was shared between Evey and Bryanna and is now only used during the day. We have Easter celebrated with only two kids, not three...that means two Easter baskets. Not Three. We have stockings for all three kids during christmas, but only 2 are filled.  Life moves on for everyone around us, as it should. But the fact is, Evey and Liam's friends get to go home and annoy or be annoyed by their sister and they don't. It is easy to forget that grief continues even when the world keeps turning.

 Yes, life is a funny thing. I try to find humor in as much as I can these days, because we have to live...but I find it interesting how different each year is. And it's not easy.  But here's the thing -  with this comes learning. It comes a deeper understanding of what has to happen. It comes knowledge of pain and suffering, but also of healing. With this life comes compassion and love...love like I never knew I could feel.

Life is hard. You may see me and say - Wow, you look so great. But did you look into my eyes?  Because if you did, you would see life. I don't really know how to answer the "how are you question". Because when I'm okay, I'm not sure that I really am. But do you really want to hear that? For those who truly do care -I see it and I appreciate it so much. I am grateful for the people who have reached out to me and that listen. I love all of you.  Life is powerful and as I sit here alone on my couch while the kids sleeps and Levi lays by my feet, I am humbled by that power. I sit back and relish in the tasks that we do everyday to live. Evey's job is to open the blinds in the house every day and Liam's job is to feed levi. Not just a scoop of kibble, but also to add his favorite wet food to it. This is there job. Because these are signs of life. This is living - opening the blinds makes us take pause and look at the deer or woodchuck grazing behind our house. It gives us pause to look at the sky and the sun, the moon and the stars. Feeding Levi allows him to thrive and be healthy...it's a sign of life. It is moving forward in our own way.  They don't know all this, but one day they will.  I hope that these little tasks will help them as we continue to take it day by day. I look forward to the day where my eyes say more than just survival.

In the mean time, when I am not completely busy and occupied with the kids and work, I am growing our foundation that we set up in honor of Bryanna. We want to share her love with the world, with the kids that are trying to survive just like she did.  With that, I am organizing a walk/run in Maryland on 9/8/2018. It is a crazy and huge undertaking, but it feels right. I can't let Bryanna's memory fade away. I need people to know her story. I need people to know that she too mattered.  The 4% in funding that we keep hearing about for cancer research is my 100%. I lost 100% of my baby girl.  Hopefully as I work on Bryanna's Love we can help others and share Bryanna's love like she was meant to do. Hopefully with that, I will no longer survive, I will live. Love is a powerful thing and leads to even more amazing things. It leads to living, not just surviving. And that my friends, is a force to be reckoned with.

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