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.