Welcome 2007

I welcome 2007 with big wide open arms. Couldn't be wider. I welcome change. I welcome the challenges I know will come. I can take it. I want to take it. At the prospect of being one year older, of seeing another year pass, I feel stronger.

To my husband I say, I could not love you more. You are the rise and fall of me and we could not be what we are without each other. It's you I look to when I need strength or reassurance. It's you who soothes my heart when it hurts, when I cry, when I am sad. Sometimes I have to yell it out, but eventually, when you get it, you are there. For that and a thousand other reasons, I love you. If I died tomorrow, I would die knowing that I have had the love of a hundred lifetimes with you. Our souls are connected and what one wants, the other at least respects if not duplicates the wanting itself. I know I have found what to some is elusive. It leaves me content. This year that is upon us will bring wonderful things and mabye sad things but together, we will face it all. As always.

To my boys I say you could not bring me more joy. I could sit and watch you for hours on end. Amazing. Amazing love. To think we brought you into this world with so much love and now it's all just coming full circle; it's the sheer definition of happiness and it's definitely the stuff of life. You are the stuff of our lives. I love you all; all three of you. Granted, Lucas, I cannot sit and watch you for hours on end, you are not here. But I love you the same, I love you immensely and you are always always included in my thoughts and now I've become strong enough that when people ask me how many children I have, I say three. I used to only say two. It was too hard. In that, I have grown. I love you all the same and it bursts the seams of my heart. The Oldest and I now say "I love you with a million hearts" and then he tries to trump me with "I have an extra pocket of love that Mom's can't have so I love you more than you love me" and what can I say to that?

I wish for this year to bring joy and calm and learning and more love. Simple things. Nothing more.

--Jenn

Guys and Football

Why is it that when guys watch a football game that they are really into (or I guess any sport really) they talk to the TV? Seriously, why? Do they actually think it will converse back with them? Can they not see they are talking to an inanimate object? And why the yelling? And why the pacing? And why why why do they talk to US about it? I mean, I want to understand, I want to help him figure it all out but I DO.NOT.GET.FOOTBALL.AT.ALL. I have tried. From when I was little and a cheerleader till now, I have tried. When I ask questions I am not taken seriously, not only by my honey, but my Dad (in the past) or my brother in law. Sort of like, 'are you serious, you don't know that?'

I just don't get the talking out loud to no one in the room. Spouting off at the Coach who can very clearly NOT hear you. Hello? You CANNOT affect the game with your ramblings. Kay. Just sayin'.

--J

The Donald and Rosie; Oh Boy.

They're at it again. The View today might be interesting. She wrote about him in her blog and then he went on Anderson 360 and blasted her again, more of the same but more intense. He's not holding back, he's actually coming out and saying it all about her. She picked the fight. Really, what does she expect? I actually enjoy Rosie, she's bold and funny and although she's sometimes overbearing (ok a lot overbearing) I think it speaks to the insecurities she probably has about herself. It's almost like, I'll be this way so no one else can be this way to me unless I pick the fight first..... Could be totally wrong, and I probably am because of course, I don't know her at all. I bet if you look down deep under all the layers of both of them, they both have issues. He has an ego the size of Texas and she thinks she's right most of the time. Get that together, it's a mixture for a volcano eruption.

Really, what did she expect? She basically embarrassed him on national TV, flipped her hair over and mimicked him, said all kinds of things about him (some might have been true but do you call people out like that on TV?). Does the public really need all this? I'm about over it and I think I'll watch the View about one more time to see what she says but if there's anymore of this in the news, I'm done with it all. Done with the show, done with it all. It's like watching two four year olds in a sand box. Who can sling the most and the hardest? We all have bigger things in life, and while this is somewhat amusing, lets move on already. Rosie, leave him alone, the scab needs to heal. Seriously.

---J

Brighton Girl!

I'm a 'Brighton Girl' now! I have a beautiful necklace my sister gave me and I love it! Here is a picture. She was so mean about it when we were eating, before we opened presents. She had a new necklace on and she started talking about Brighton this and Brighton that and I was all, "what's Brighton, whatcha talking about?" and my Mom knew about Brighton and my other sister knew about Brighton but I so didn't know. They had been to a "BRIGHTON" store and I hadn't. huh? Left out? Ka-wah. :( So she was teasing me, "too bad you're not a 'brighton girl' maybe you can "aspire" (whatever) to be a Brighton girl one day." Blah blah blah. I ignored her then. I was going to do some research! My mom told me about a place that sells Brighton stuff here around town, I was going to check it out. Fast forward to we are opening presents. I open this heart shaped tin can from her and lo and behold there is this awesome little necklace in there....a BRIGHTON necklace.... :).

So there it is. Check it out. All silver. Nice and heavy. And of course, you know what the butterfly means. Lucas.

Now I'm a Brighton Girl (phrase made up by my sister I think...)!!! Phew. Couldn't stand to be left out!

--Jenn

Death by Hanging.

Wow. That is quick. I mean, it's so deserved I believe. In my opinion it is. But wow. In our country there is so much time, so much red tape, so much paperwork and re trials and back and forthing, the person could be on death row for ten years. Not in Iraq. Apparantly not. Once you are deemed guilty and the sentence is handed down, that's that.

They say he's going to be hung in the next 48 hours. I don't know why I'm so shocked.

Two different subjects sort of but indirectly (obviously) related.....I'm also very acutely aware that the death toll of our soldiers is very quickly approaching the same number of lives we lost in 9/11. Horribly coincidental isn't it? To defend our country, we have had to lose as many lives (and although it's easy for me to say because my husband is not over there) and will that number continue to grow? Will we send more over there? I hope not to both questions. I hope not. I hope President Bush gets the news that this country seems to overwhelmingly favor bringing back all the troops. Just make a plan, systematically and slowly begin bringing them home. Bring them home. Let it be done. I think enough is enough. This is but my small opinion.

--J

Slow Down!

I am totally and completely trying to dig my heels in the ground. Stop stop stop! Too much change, too much growing, slow down already.

Christmas

So. Our Christmas was really nice. Christmas Eve was enjoyable, Mass, home for pre prepared dinner (baked spaghetti, not tradional but good and could be eaten with wine!~Even the Oldest had some sparkling grape juice in a wine glass...I'm sure he felt fancy!), Daddy and Oldest made cookies for Santa while I got the Littlest down and it was all just nice. After both boys were down, we got things straight (ahem, S's little H's) and then we opened our gifts to each other like we always do in our own space, at our own pace, with our music playing in the background (well, this year it was just soft Christmas music but usually it's our favorite songs). I could feel the 'busyness' of the day draining all my energy away and although we were having a very nice time together, soon it was time for bed and we crashed.

The next morning it was the normal scene but this year I can tell a difference. I can tell he's really growing up. I guess it's a perpetual thing in motion, growing up, but still, sometimes it glares at your harder than others. I'm so proud of him, he always remembers Lucas in everything he does. He actively gets on the floor and plays with the Littlest, chases him all over the place, has lots of fun. He really is a super big brother. He knows the reason we are all celebrating is not just to get presents, he actually will tell you that if asked. I asked him if he'd be upset if Santa did not come to our house, you know, if he forgot, he said, 'no, it'd be ok'. I'm not sure I believe him but I was impressed with his answer.

This time of year always gives me pause. Everyone has their own degrees of what they have, what they want, how they get it, what they value etc etc. I totally get that. No one person or family is the same in how they view things or practice and cherish things. Get that. I suppose it gives me pause for a couple different reasons; one just for the time of year it is, how it makes so so emotional and mushy (well held inside mind you), and the other for comparison reasons. I know I shouldn't. And it's only brought about by observations, and how people talk about Christmas...but I can't help but notice there really are some huge variations out there. You know what? I'm going to not say anything else before I get myself in trouble. I will say this. The more you give a child they less they value those things. The more you give them, the less they appreciate. If you give them hoards and hoards for Christmas, have it all lined up for each relative to get this this and that so the child has all the things YOU think they should have (which they really don't truly care about anyway), the child will not only become overwhelmed and likely not play with any one thing too long because they can't decide what to value, what to play with, but they will just WANT more because they're going to be bored easily. I think it's a little known fact that the less you give a child, on purpose, the more they appreciate and truly play with those things. A lot, over and over, and get true enjoyment from them. And not get bored. It's true. It really works. I do it all the time. :)

I'm not saying we didn't get things for the boys. We did. It was very well controlled and I can honestly say I made a genuine effort to buy only certain things and that was that. There were certain things I had in mind and that was it. I think the Littlest got five things. That's it. Maybe for some that is a lot. Maybe for others that is a percentage of what their child got. It's whatever your degree is. The Oldest got a bit more but just a bit.

I don't know. I'm not complaining; just observing. And as adults, well, it's just not about us. I firmly believe that. Sure it's nice and it is nice to get gifts. Absolutely. Who wouldn't like that? But wow. It's so not about us. And really, it's not even about the kids. It's about the celebration of the birth of baby Jesus so long ago. So given we have the traditions we do and Santa and Christmas has come to be what it is, I take it all with a grain of salt. I like to give. Give give give, that's me. When I see someone other than that, I guess it gets under my skin. And with the loads of toys dropped on a child and that is supposed to mean what? I don't know.

Christmas was wonderful around here. Not to be all martyresque but it was because we were all together and that's really why. But my glasses have a different color in them, remember. They are hued with a bit of jade.

J

And it goes a little something like this...

Life is full of seconds and minutes and hours and days and days and days of flying by. We all say it, it's very cliche but truly, they do fly by. Here we are again at Christmas. More than wow. Double wow.

We are going to play games tonight, I think, just the three of us. As the baby sleeps, and fights off the latest sickness, we will be listening to Christmas music and playing games.

As the time blends together and forms your life if you listen hard enough you can hear a 'whoosh' in your ear, like a blast of cold air whipping right through you. So to you I say, soak it in, relish in what you have not what you don't have and be thankful for the moments you can take with you.

And the Merriest of Christmas' to you and yours. If you are reading this then I probably know you in some capacity and I send you the best wishes for a super fantastic 2007. Ditto and double ditto. ;-)

--J

The Right Thing

Hmm. Is it right to do the right thing when the person it will probably (persons really) affect is a friend but you've grown that friendship, strange as it is at work so you work with them too? I don't know. If you're at work and you have to make a decision about information passed to you and that information has to do with that 'friend' in not such a positive way...... and you are in a position above that person..... what would you do? In other words, and here's how convoluted it is---

The 'friend' said some probably inappropriate things to an old co worker who used to be my 'boss'. My old 'boss' and I are friends, we have a lot in common and some things not so much but at the end of the day, we are friends, definitely. That old 'boss' told me the things that the person at work, who I'm above, who is a strange kind of friend to me said. Those things were very much work related and I felt needed to be brought to light. I could have held it in. I could have let it all pass and watched the aftermath with a sort of "I knew this was going to happen" attitude. But the thing is, I didn't want the two things that she said to really come to fruition. So I told my new 'boss' and I felt much better. Much. Conversations were had quickly with a couple of the people it affected and now it's quite obvious who said what and when etc.

What should I have done? I feel I'm in the doghouse in a way with my old 'boss'/friend and definitely think I'm in the doghouse from the person at work. What was the right thing? You see, I strongly believe that if she had never said any of this in the first place to my old boss, none of this would ever have happened. I feel that I would have been betraying the company I work for and the relationship I'm trying to form with my new boss, which I think is going well, if I had not have said these things. HOWEVER what's worse? Betraying a friend or betraying the stuff at work? AND what if the people at work are friends too? It's all twisted. I think I did the right thing but I know when I go back after my break, I'll have to have a conversation with the person who started all of this. I'm sure she's very upset. I'm sure she is. I feel she was in the wrong for even saying these things...but if I know her, she won't be able to see that, because she felt she was saying this to a friend in our old boss. But you just can't SAY that stuff and expect no repercussions.

Clearly I don't know why I'm writing this here. It appears I have it all figured out anyway huh? I don't. I so don't.

What's right? What's wrong? If I needed to learn from this, please tell me. It's hard for me to see clearly in this situation. To many twists and turns and also ridiculous to have to deal with this crap at work anyway. Waste of time all of this at the end of the day when the two people all of this has to do with denied saying the stuff anyway. It's like running a little rat race and getting nowhere. Now isn't THAT a waste of time?

ugh
Jenn

Something in Me Has Died

Last night, my husband and I were talking as we were laying in bed. Lights out, house quiet, time for bed. As we talked, I didn't know it, wasn't aware, I was falling asleep. Looking back, I really don't remember the point when I started falling asleep. I was talking about something, the Oldest I think, and then, I'm sure time passed and then I woke myself up to the sound of my voice still talking but scarily enough, I was saying something totally different, talking about a man or something. I can't remember what I was starting to dream about but do remember we were talking about our son and then we weren't (or I wasn't). So I shot up in bed and said, "honey, was I just talking out loud?" (totally scared s***less because was I talking about someone I admire like Matthew McConahey (sp)???--- he slightly became more awake and laughed saying 'yes you were' and I just started laughing hysterically. This all has a point; I promise. Laughing so hard that I had tears. Laughing so hard I sounded like a maniac. Laughing in my pillow so not to wake the boys. With him egging me on, poking fun at me, but making me laugh more by immitating the manner in which I sat up asking if I was talking, there I was laughing in a dark room, like I had no sense. Out of control laughing. I'd stop, then start again. Stop, quiet down, calm myself, then laugh again... then he said something. I don't know what it was, but it struck me so hard, I forced myself to stop. I totally felt out of control. I got up, went to the bathroom and could feel that I wanted to laugh again-could feel it welling up inside me but suddenly, I started crying. Silent crying. Lip quivering, nose running, just crying my eyes out. Held my mouth into a face towel so he could not hear me (I KNOW he would have thought I truly lost it then, and was ashamed, what was wrong with me anyway?) and I just sat in the dark bathroom crying till my throat hurt. I cried till I was too tired to cry anymore. I cleaned my face, still in the dark, wondering how horrible I probably looked at that moment but not really wanting to know, so never turning on the light, I just quietly got back in bed. And it was over.

So many things. I literally think I'm fine. I think I am. I am. I'm fine. But yet, I'm not. I mean I am. I so am. But then what was wrong with me? I'll tell you, I have found a way to deal with drama. I just don't. I think when you lose a child, nothing else can ever be 'bad' or even come close so you just don't let the small stuff get you. Or even the medium stuff. And the big stuff? You laugh in it's face, you just don't let it get you. The price of that is so expensive though. The cost is high because as you see above, it all comes out and if ladies and gentlemen just if I had that moment in front of others, or in front of someone I was upset with for any small thing, the end result would have been something over the top. Sure sure sure, I am good at (and my almost favorite phrase at work) 'faking the funk' in my life, I've gotten really good at it. You know what I re live over and over again; probably every day to every other day this memory flies through my mind:

The Oldest is in the Resource Room on the 7th floor at CHOP and my husband is down with Lucas, it's early morning and I am with the Oldest, trying for all the world to find for the hundreth time something to occupy him, to distract him, to entertain him, (and probably myself too) so he would not want to be in his brothers room. The social worker comes down to the room and says, this nurse will stay with the Oldest, and you can go to his room. I make like it's a wonderful thing to the Oldest...stay with her, she is fun, you all will color, play with PlayDoh, I'll be back. I slowly walk down the long hall, across the corridor and into the CICU, down to the end, into his room and look as was my habit every time I entered his room at all the monitors. His heart rate was at 60 and slowly going down. From that moment on till the second of his death, it's all in slow motion. The people in the room, the doctor, the nurses, and us. The letting go. The letting go of your son after all those months, well it's still with me now. It's still affecting me now. I think that a part of me even in my happiest moments with the boys now, and there are many many many of those happy moments, but even in them, a part of me is gone. Numb. Or just gone. Irretrievable. Can someone erase that memory? I don't know. And that walk back to the Resource Room to get the Oldest was the longest walk of my life. Of our lives. We decided to take him to the Chapel and tell him his brother was gone to Heaven. When we got on that elevator, filled with other people that I wanted to chop all their heads off for even existing, I wanted to SCREEEAM at all of them, though they had not one thing to do with his dying, when we got on that elevator, I just stood there, forcing myself to not hear the chatter, dreading what I knew we had to do, figuring out what to say, wanting to run back to his room and breathe life back into him, I just stood there. Staring at the cold stainless steel double doors, waiting for them to open. And open they did. To a whole new life, a new beginning, a new tomorrow and moving on. And in that chapel, when we told him, in hearing his repsonse which still makes me chuckle, even now.....I knew, I knew our lives were irrevocably changed. I knew our son whose body was laying upstairs but whose soul was now flying to Heaven, had changed our lives and marked them with a indelible ink of love. And so it was. And that memory, that very memory from start to finish, goes through my brain almost every single day. It just does. It's the 'I must punish myself' syndrome. I've got it down pat.

On a brighter side, (and there really is one, there so is) from that whole laughing/crying episode last night, we have talked extensively, mostly this morning when we woke up and a good little surprise to me is that we talked about things we never had before. In general we had, but details; no. And it was awesome to have a normal conversation about why I think I'm the way I am with no sarcasm, no negativity, no judgments. He doesn't normally do that in our day to day BUT when we discuss Lucas, those are hard conversations and we are both always on edge so I definitely dread them and sometimes even avoid them. It's kind of like, if something hurts and you know it's gonna hurt, you just avoid it. Like a shot. A big fat shot in the butt. Now you know that's gonna hurt. I'd be cancelling that appointment every single time. You'd have to drag me there kicking and screaming. Sometimes, sadly, that's me, going into a conversation about Lucas with him.

The whole laughing/crying thing got me to thinking. I have been looking at things from other angles and my conclusion is that I can't fix it. All the things that cause angst and stir the pot for others, I have decided I cannot let affect me in the way it affects them. My pot of trouble and worry is already far too full, ready to boil over most of the time to add any other stuff to it. What's big for one person is not for another. If you add one more carrot to a boiling pot of stew thats full to the brim, it's going to boil over and get all over everything. Its best to avoid all that and just handle what's on your plate. At least I think so.

--J

Ghosts

Do you believe in them?

Do you believe that spirits guide us? Really guide us or are just with us?

I don't know. I mean, I think I know but what do you think?

--J

Brave and Mighty

So.

We are at a school event tonight for the Oldest. A Holiday Make and Take Craft thing. I volunteered last year. I also realized last year that I had said "YES" to too many things so this year, I smartly refrained. There we are, all four of us, enjoying, having a good time, both of us taking turns with the Littlest so the other could stay with the big brother. Just having a good time. Lots of people, lots of kids to navigate through, parents too but what can you do? It's the nature of the beast. There were lots of cookies and apple cider with Christmas music playing in the background. I get a cookie for the Littlest, it was soft, like the kind they have at WalMart with icing on them? White soft ones? He keeps coming back to me for a bite. At some point, he choked on it and I bent down to help him and make sure he was ok. He was really gagging and next thing you know, to get the cookie back up, he kind of made himself throw up. Well, he really threw up. Like you know, vomit. All over the floor. Right there at the Make and Take in the Cafeteria with all the kids and parents right there around us. It's all over the floor, all over his shirt, all over his face and now God love it, all over his hands as he wiped them all over his cheeks. As I tried to stop him from doing that it was getting all over MY hands too. Nice.

I do what any good Mom would do and I call for my husband. He could not hear me so I really had to raise my voice, get a little more attention our way, you know? By then, people are gawking at the baby, and I don't want to leave the throw up for fear that some child will run right through it and slip and fall, bust their head and get vomit on their clothes; nice vision eh? So I'm riveted to the spot, wanting to take the clothes off the baby and calling for my honey, my sweet honey who could not hear me, or was he pretending not to hear me? The world will never know...

Other Mom's I know are coming up to me, "Oh, what happened, I hope he feels better" to which I reply, "No, he's fine, he just choked on a cookie". One lady who is a neighbor said to me twice, "oh I hope he feels better" even though I told her the first time he just choked on a cookie. I think she didn't believe me! I think she was insinuating that I brought him there with a virus or something! These people. I swear, some folks were looking at me like I was a three headed monster. Like 'how COULD you let your child throw up here?' and 'ewww, what IS that?' as if their child has never thrown up either. Please. So he finally looks up at me, and he gives me a look. THE look. First mistake (well second if you count the not hearing me call for help part). He gives me the same look the other people did. What the? Our eyes flew back and forth at each other (no words necessary at that point and if you're married you know EXACTLY what I mean) and he simply gets up and goes away. He comes back with a large amount of paper towels. By then I had asked someone I knew to please go find the janitor and explained the problem. I explained what happened as if she couldn't smell us from a mile away already... I took the shirt off the baby, we put chairs all around the area he threw up in so no one would walk through it or slip in it. And there I went, there I was, walking through the crowded cafeteria full of people with a half naked baby. Holding my head up high, being brave and mightly as all moms are, ignoring all stares and hushes, and pretending that we didn't stink or that it was not odd that he had no shirt on. I'm telling you, this is normal if you are a parent. Not the throw up part, but the predicament part.

Thank the Lord above that for the most part I am prepared for anything. I had a backup shirt and we were good to go. I washed him off in the bathroom and walla, good as new. He never skipped a beat. Neither did I. Now the Daddy, he probably skipped a couple of beats. I bet his heart did too. If you're a mom, you are always brave and mighty irregardless of the circumstances you are facing. If you're a dad, well, you're brave and mighty when there's a mouse in the house (and that's not very often). I suppose, that's as it should be. We still love you anyway.

--J

The Question I Have Feared Has Now Befallen My Ears

OMG.

Last night at dinner, the Oldest starts talking about Santa. Santa this and Santa that. Just little things, little conversations, innocent banter between us all. Then it happens. He mumbles something about the kids at school with the word Santa peppered in there. Red flag shoots all the way up to the Heavens. RED FLAG with horns playing in the background. Huh, I say, what was that you said? More mumbling and looking at his plate. Eh? This is abnormal behavior from my child, he NEVER mumbles. And he ALWAYS makes eye contact when he's talking to us. Fear gripping my heart, I push forward. "WHAT are you saying Oldest? I cannot hear you, why are you MUMBLING?" He then looks up at me and then looks at his Dad and says, "Kids at school said there is no Santa." Calmly he said it. All the emotions were leaking out of my every pore, because you know it's so important to me that he believes in Santa. Why, I'm not really sure why. Because it's a magical time, it's a magical thing to believe, because it means he is still a child, a little boy, because I really beleived when I was little too. Just because. I then pretend as best I can, without looking at my honey, to be ever so calm like nothing earth shattering was just said, and I say, "that's just ridiculous, who told you such a thing? and if Santa is not real then who puts those toys under the tree every year?" to which he even MORE calmly replied, "well they said you did it, that our parents do it" DAMN IT! I was speechless and thank goodness my husband piped in and said, "well those kids just don't believe, Oldest, so that's sad for them, of course there is Santa." I then asked him, "Do YOU believe in Santa?" and he said that he did and he looked at me when he said it so I think we're ok but there you go. The seed of doubt has been planted at the age of 7, when other loud mouth kids go ruining it for the others who believe still.

I know parents cannot control what their children do and say, but let me just say I am SO MAD right now. He told me who told him and that child is a trouble maker. I wanted to call those parents and tell them what their child did but I know this is crazy and really, what can you do? If a child has been told or figured things out, I would like to think that the parent has reminded the child that others might still believe and to keep the secret to themselves.

---ticks me off.

Jenn

Wordless Wednesday; Absolutely Beautiful

Nothing Much to Say

I feel the need to write but nothing is coming budding from my mind. Maybe it's because I have so much else flying through it that I need to get done for the Holidays...

The deer in the front yard seem to have a mind of their own. Turn off and on at random. It's funny and I think it's driving my husband absolutely nuts. I like to observe this; it amuses me to watch him wrangle with all that stuff. :)

Snow. I wish for snow. Crazy I know. But I wish for it. Falling falling falling softly.

We had a nice little memorial for Lucas last night; the Oldest, my husband and I. We each said a prayer. We're so proud of how the Oldest has handled all of this. I think he'll grow up to be quite the gentleman. Someone who will not be afraid to say how he feels or afraid to express his emotions. Sometimes we just look at each other and lock eyes (my husband and I) and we have this knowing look pass between us. No words need be said. We are doing something right.

If anything, we can take solace in that. Maybe that's what our whole lives are about. These boys. Well, of course, they are. I knew that.

--Of course.

J

Candle Lighting Ceremony

Tomorrow is the Candle Lighting Ceremony that happens once a year on the second Sunday of the month. It's done around the world annually to remember those children who have gone before us. Children. Babies. Our hopes and dreams. Today we received six books from the Bereavement Program at CHOP (Childrens Hospital of Philadelphia). Lucas is on page 41. His picture and something I wrote. Here is what I wrote. And I'll include the picture as well. Let me just digress right here and tell you, in order to find this picture again, I had to look through all of his pictures. I stumbled across a picture we took of him on his last day of life. My heart is hurting now. Like a balloon that needs to pop there is too much air in it and you can't exhale or inhale. Hurts. He was so sick. For the millionth time, I ask, why could we not see it? We wanted him to live live live. So blind.

---

Here is what I wrote for the Memorial Book.

10/15/02-8/21/03
Lucas Andrew

Submitted by Jennifer; Mother


If words could only express the ache and the wisdom that have come with your death. If they could only express the love we still have for you, the missing we still feel for you. If, if, if, we could only recapture a small bit of your pixie dust before you left us-and put it in a little glass jar so we could watch the beauty of you whenever we needed to be reminded or wanted to remember deeply your essence.

You know we love you. You know we miss you. I know we’ll see you again one day. As our lives go on, the more we know. The answers become fractionally clearer with each day and we trust that it truly was meant to be this way.

For you we live and breathe, for you we go on, and as we get through our days, we imagine you are with us, on our shoulders, watching over us. In this, we believe. Always in our hearts; forever you are.

Jenn

The books are gorgeous and so appropriate. They have evolved from mini booklets to now bound books. Chock full of pictures, poems, beautifully written stories and synopsis' of children and in memory of them; for them. To read it, slowly page by page, it would really blow your mind. There is this whole other world that if you are the parent of a healthy child, never to be in a hospital, let alone a Childrens Hospital, you are just oblivious to. I was there once. Completely oblivious. Completely unaware and taking the world for granted. It's a good place to be actually. When something happens and your world changes and goes off kilter for a moment in time, then you realize, you see that it's no joke, there are thousands of other familes going through the same thing at the same time you are. I remember thinking that it was the most earth shattering moment to realize, there was this whole other world. A shushed one. No one in MY immediate family or friends even knew this world existed; until Lucas came along. This book will teach you to one by one put one foot in front of the other, you aren't the only one. You do have to live your life. We all must go on. So there you have it. May all the angels in Heaven, all the little ones, may they be living a life like no other. For all the pain they went through to get to where they are, it's far deserved. And for them, we go on, knowing we'll see them again. And as for me and mine, we believe. To our very core.

I thank you Malinda Hill. You have helped to make this easier than I think it might have been without you or your efforts. On behalf of myself and all the other parents who year after year participate, make the trip to Philly, who take a moment at 7:00 pm every second Sunday of the year and say a prayer while holding a candle, we thank you.

--Just a Mom

Jenn

Tennis Anyone?

Oh can I tell you, can I just TELL you that I got to stand no less than ten feet away from Andre Agassi tonight? Can you believe that? I could have taken a few steps and tapped him on the shoulder or something.....but you know, he was playing tennis and I was all gawking at him from behind a curtain (I was supposed to be leaving but I wanted to steal one more glance and I'm glad I did because it was the best one of the night).

We had good seats, we could see everything, every seat in the whole place was a good seat, there were no bad seats. But still, when I got to see him from the floor, peeking behind that curtain at him, WOW! Ok, so I'm a little enamored with him. I think I've idolized him for a long time and so to get to SEE him, like for real, in person, that was a kick to me. It's not that he's so handsome (he's ok, cute, ok) but it's just that it's him. He has done so much for tennis and he's such an exciting player to watch and you just find yourself rooting for him every single time. He has this draw to him. Of course, the matches tonight were just Expo type matches, not competitive but still, everyone was rooting for Andre. It was all in fun and all the money either went to the Massey Cancer Research Center or EVMS; both good causes.

I'm just so thrilled I got to see him that close. From the stands, watching him play, cool. From down on the floor, like 12 steps away, AWESOME.

Poor Oldest, he'll likely be willed by me to love this game. I won't live through him, I'll just encourage. ahem. clearing my throat here. He can do what he wants. And he'll be as good as he'll be and that'll be perfect to me. See? It's all good. Of course he and the Littlest could always be tennis brothers like James and Thomas Blake OR Bob and Mike Bryan...ok, wishful thinking. All done now. Really.

-Jenn

Agassi

Guess who I get to see live and in person tomorrow? Yep. You guessed it.

He's playing in an Expo for Cancer Research and I'm volunteering at the event. If I weren't getting sick, I think I'd be beside myself. As it is, I'm trying really hard not to be miserable.

I'll tell you how it goes. I'm honored to volunteer for such a thing but the bonus is seeing he and James Blake play tennis live and in person.

:)

Jenn

Santa Says Shhhh...

Santa has a secret. Well he probably has a lot of secrets but he's holding this one till Christmas Eve.



This month is FLYING and there is so much to do. So much. The feeling of peace will come soon enough. I'm sure of it.

I took an Angel off one of the work trees and the little girl wanted a Barbie Laptop. I thought, "oh well, I'll give her that and the clothes she has written her sizes for too" . Uh no. That thing was like $40. I think she'll be happy with that. That's all. Phew. That's a lot, isn't it? But I felt good buying it. If that little girl only has that for Christmas, I know she'll be happy. I hope she gets other things though.

--J

The High Cost of Wisdom

How much does wisdom cost anyway? Is it expensive? You bet it is. And then to try to share your wisdom can cost you too. It never stops. Plus if you ever need any wisdom, it's just as expensive.

The cost can be anything from your pride, to true ignorance. It really doesn't matter.

Bliss. Give me the bliss.

--J

Lyrics to The Prayer (song)

I pray you'll be our eyes
And watch us where we go
And help us to be wise
In times when we don't know
Let this be our prayer
As we go our way
Lead us to a place
Guide us with your Grace
To a place where we'll be safe
La luce che to dai
I pray we'll find your light
Nel cuore resterò
And hold it in our hearts
A ricordarchi che
When stars go out each night
L'eterna stella sei
Nella mia preghiera
Let this be our prayer
Quanta fede c'è
When shadows fill our day
Lead us to a place
Guide us with your grace
Give us faith so we'll be safe.
Sognamo un mondo
senza più violenza
Un mondo di giustizia
e di speranza
Ognuno dia la mano
al suo vicino
Simbolo di pace
e di fraternitàLa forza che ci dai
We ask that life be kind
E'il desiderio che
And watch us from above
Ognuno trovi amore
We hope each soul will find
Intorno e dentro a sé
Another soul to love
Let this be our prayer
Let this be our prayer
Just like every child
Just like every child
Needs to find a place
Guide us with your grace
Give us faith so we'll be safe
E la fede cheHai acceso in noiSento che ci salverà

Ok so I know half of this song is in another language. But let me tell you, this song is absolutely beautiful and when you hear it, it speaks to your soul and flows so perfectly. Absolutely speaks to your soul. I have long thought that. I heard it the year that Lucas passed away and it has meant something to me since then. More than something, a lot of something. It's sung by different people but I can tell you, I've heard most renditions and it's best sung by Josh Groban and Angie Stone. They sang it once in a live concert. She has such a vibrant strong voice and I think it's tempered perfectly by him in this song.

It quiets me. It makes me cry. It gives me hope. One day..

The Shirt

When you fall in love with that special someone, it's magical. Shiny, shimmery, wonderful, perfect. Exploring their personality and other things (ahem). It's all roses. As it should be. It's like a brand new shirt. All sparkley and vibrantly colored and it's one that you want to wear every chance you get. It's the best shirt you've ever had. It's the shirt.

Then you get married and the shirt is still perfect and every time you see it you still get butterflies in your stomach, it still makes your heart stop when you see the shirt. It's still shimmery. The shirt is a little more worn, a little more broken in, but still perfect in it's own way. Just exactly perfect.

The years pass and the shirt gets very comfortable. Sometimes you look at it and you just want to wear it every second of the day. Have it as close to you as you can. But then there are days when you can't stand to look at it. You could have it on and one little thread could prick you in your skin just the wrong way and suddenly you want to rip it off and be done with it. Those days are few and far between but that shirt on those days is the last thing you want to see. You ignore it sometimes. You wash that shirt and try to shiny it up, you know, like the in the early days when it was so shiny you could barely stand to look at it, or touch it for fear of messing something up it was so perfect....but try as you might you can't get those shiny days back. They are gone. Not in a bad way, but it becomes increasingly hard to recapture the shimmery shiny days of old. The sequins on it are fading slowly. You find immense comfort in this shirt, it is now home to you. Comfort like nothing else.

Fast forward to now. You love this shirt. It is your world. It's perfectly worn in, and it's the best shirt in the world. You would fall apart without this shirt. It has a few holes in it, but you know, you ignore them, try to patch them up now and again, but on the best days you can't even see those holes. On the worst days, those holes seem like they'll swallow you up and watch you turn into a pile of nothing. Get past those days and you'll be fine. Those days are short and you know you can get through them.

The shirt is always there. It's the one thing you know you can depend on. It's not going anwhere ever. It's a place of comfort and reassurance. Wars were fought over this shirt yet, its' still there. It's worth fighting for. It's to be treasured. I dont' know if the old shiny days can really be captured, I'm still trying to figure that out. I do know it's worth the effort. You know why? That shirt, it's the best thing that's ever happened to you in your whole life. It's the perfect one for you. And in this great big world, that means a lot. It's priceless. No matter how much you paid for it before, after all you've been through with it, it's absolutely priceless now.

I love my shirt.

--Jenn

The Littlest

Can I tell you---I am absolutely in love with this little boy. His personality is coming out full throttle! He has this way of cutting his eyes with the most beautiful smile and then he crunches himself down and puts his hands together and sways like he's in love with YOU, the person he's looking at. He's TOTALLY flirting. I relish in him. I have taught him all his body parts, he calls his elbow a 'bow bow' but he knows where it is. His fingers are "ger gers" but he knows where they are. But when I tell him to point to his knees, he sometimes gets confused (50/50) and points to his nose. Knees/nose, it's all the same :).

He loves to climb. I know all kids do but he REALLY loves to climb. No fear, wants to get as high as he can and then says, "WEEEEE". He stands at the top of the stairs (of the second floor going down) and SHAKES the gate to try to get it down, and if he does, he will just tumble down (again). But he's not afraid. When you look at him, when he's caught in the act of getting up on the couch and standing up leaning forward, he just smiles and clearly you can tell, he's loving it. Your heart is on the floor and your racing to save him but he's having a blast. He will stand on anything, it doesn't matter how tall it is, or how short it is. If it's off the floor, it's worth his effort. He will stand on a drumstick laying on the ground or he will stand on a box, a chair, his TowMater car, anything. We laugh because it doesn't have to be tall so when he stands on something like 1/2 inch off the ground and THAT makes him happy? We laugh. Maybe he will be a pilot. I don't know.

I just love him. I love all my boys of course, of course, but I just LOVE him. I think he has helped to save me on some level. But more than that, he's just a sweet pea.