Tuesday, May 13, 2014

You can't make this stuff up

Yesterday was an interesting day. It was just strange. I don't know how else to describe it. It was the day that Zoë was the exact age that Lucy was the day she choked. That may sound convoluted an odd, but I assure you that all "angel mothers" think of these things and make it through these milestones...the day your living child passes or reaches the exact age of your deceased child. You feel like if you can make it that far...everything will be OK.

So as of today, I can say that I have never had a daughter this old before. (Well...Lucy was still with us at this point, but on life support). With my girls having their birthdays only 6 days apart, it is "easy" to keep track of things like this.

I tried not to make more of it than necessary. I didn't want to dramatize things or obsess or over think. I just went about my day and tried my best, like I always do, to treasure my children. But I was cranky and anxious and nervous. I couldn't focus. I was jittery and had NO patience. I was really struggling. I don't know if this was all entirely due to the circumstances mentioned earlier, but something was going on in my heart, mind, and body.

I told Vic I didn't have the energy to make dinner and he suggested we get some take out and head to the cemetery. It was rainy and cold most of the day and I didn't think the weather would hold out, but he was insistent. (Which, frankly, I found kind of odd...since we'll be heading to the cemetery next week for her "Angelversary"). But I was excited about getting out of the retirement villa (ha) where we're living and going downtown SLC.

Between the time that Vic and I had the conversation over the phone about getting dinner at Cafe Rio, and his drive home from the office, Peter made a beautiful new friend. He ran into the house yelling, "Mom, mom! Come look!" I was in the middle of who knows what and it took me some time to get outside. Just when I got to the door to see what all the fuss was about, Peter proudly came inside with a huge, gorgeous butterfly on his finger. I was so surprised! The little guy just clung to Peter. It was pretty amazing to see.







Peter "fed" him (grass in a bowl) and named him Fink. After about 15 minutes Peter released him outside and watched him fly away. Just then, Vic pulled into the driveway. Peter ran back outside and somehow found the butterfly and brought him back in on his finger. I've never seen anything like it!

When we arrived at the cemetery it was cold and rainy. We sat in the car and ate our dinner in the hopes that things would clear up. I was about to give up when right in front of me appeared this rainbow. 


We ended up spending a good 30 minutes at the cemetery as the kids ran around and Peter tried reading the headstones. 

I know both of these little gifts, these signs or tender mercies, reminders, whatever you may call them, could have happened on any day of the week. It surprised me that they happened on this "strange" day.
They left me with several thoughts about how we attach meaning to things and how wonder is around us all the time, but we don't always notice it. 

Sometimes I feel like my life is too poetic to be true. All the little stories about how Lucy's nurse was named Molly and had a daughter named Lucia. And all the waiters we've ever had on our wedding anniversary dinners have been named Lucy or Peter. And the Peter Pan and Narnia parallels and symbols. There are just a million things. Every time I'd have a new experience, I'd call Justin and talk about it with him. It just sounds cheesy or forced or effected...but you can't make this stuff up. He would tell me these things happen to me, and for me, because I need to tell my story--I need to share. 

I'm so flawed. I'm selfish and I'm moody. I have so much to learn. But I'll keep sharing my life and my thoughts on hope, in the hopes that someone out there benefits from it. With Justin gone now, I want to continue doing what he always told me to do--share myself. 

All in all, I'm just grateful that people love me. I'm grateful yesterday had these beautiful moments. Thanks for letting me share with you. 

12 comments:

  1. I love the sheer joy on Peter's face in the 4th picture. So amazing and beautiful! Hugs.

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  2. Oh I want to squish you. I love this. Tender mercies.

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  3. Keep it up Molly - I enjoy your blog, and reading about your little family and your life. Take care.

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  4. Absolutely beautiful story!! Thank you for sharing!! Your family is always in my thoughts & prayers:)

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  5. I truly believe that those little tender mercies are our loved ones letting us know they are near and love us. I've had too many crazy butterfly experiences along with rainbow experiences since Wyatt's death to think otherwise. So glad your sweet Lucy and your friend Justin were letting you know they are aware of you and love you. I think you are amazing! Thanks for sharing your thoughts! You have such a wonderful way of expressing everything. I can so relate with what you have to say. Thanks!

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  6. What a beautiful day to remember forever....in my life it is hummingbirds. Those magical little birds have lifted my heart many times. My life and situation could never ever compare to the loss of your beautiful child but when my husband passed away in August 2008, I was shattered, broken, so lost, so profoundly sad....but life had to go on...I wished at the time that everyone would just STOP. He was gone and everyone went back to their every day lives and my life was stuck in such an awful place. But I knew I had to find a new normal. And it did...I am blessed with a good son and his darling wife....but their son, my grandson...well, he is my tender mercy. He is my reason for smiling and my reason to keep going. I love that bealutiful little friend of Peter's (I saw one coming into my work yesterday and just had to stand there and watch it flutter around) and the rainbow came just when you needed it. It is a symbol of hope for sure. Those milestone days that remind us of our precious loved ones are hard but then we realize that God is mindful of us and surely sends us those tender reminders that our loved ones are still who they were here on earth but just in another place and time. I can't wait for that perfect day when we are all together again. Until then, I will find every ounce of joy life has to offer, try to find happiness in small simple things and never ever take anything for granted. Thanks Molly girl for being who you are and sharing a bit of your life with us. You are amazing and your cute family is adorable. What a treasure you are!!

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  7. Oh Molly. I love this stuff. Thanks for sharing. Somehow hearing this just validates our own experiences.

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  8. I think Justin was right, and I'm so glad you share these experiences with us.

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  9. Yeah no coincidences there....that's amazing. And so wonderful and affirming.
    So much love to you and your littles.

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  10. This post seriously made me smile & warmed my heart! I feel the same way - so many ways our angels and our Heavenly Father try to show us their love. I think most of the time we don't see it, but things like this... just so amazing!! I feel the same way about Noelle & wondering... holding my breath to see if she will live longer than her brother did. Praying... praying... Love you Molly! Need to see you this summer!

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