My arms are empty and acheing...

I can’t believe I’m a mother without…

Life has been twisted and turned upside down. As a mother, I had both the wonderful privilege of holding my sweet son as I brought him into this world…and the horrible chore of holding him as he took his last breaths and left this world, at only 7 years old. June 24, 2010 he earned his angel wings, passing away after an inspiring but brief fight against Cystic Fibrosis. Now I live, solely focusing on living a life to get to be with him again in heaven, and to raise awareness for Cystic Fibrosis research. I am dedicated to a cure, not only for my sweet sons legacy but so that other CF families never experience the greatest loss of their lives that we are now facing. My mother’s arms are missing Connerman, yet he still inspires me daily to leave a mark of LOVE on this world…so for you my sweet prince, mommy will try!

Love Love Love

Always Always Always

Friday, December 30, 2011

A new Year…a new HOPE…

Well we’ve made it!

Thru our first calendar year without him here with us in person. I feel both a sense of accomplishment and a sense of overwhelming sadness. Weird combination. Last year we only had to make it barely 6 months without him to get that over with…but this year…a full 12 months…we did it. I can safely say that 2010 was the worst year of my life, from losing Conner, losing people I loved, losing comfort in this world, yet gaining a realistic expectation of what this world is all about, I think it’s safe to say we just kind of held on and survived 2010. I was so sad ringing in 2011, because my heart knew it would be our first entire year without him, that reality was settling in even more than I could imagine…that we’d be faced with some of the hardest challenges of our lives, and I was right.

2011, while not the worst year of my life (lets face it nothing compares to 2010), was the most difficult so far. in 2010 all I had to do was show up, I didn’t even have to dress nice…or smile…or worry about what anyone was thinking of me or my family, or judging our expressions of pain…that years' motto was “fake it till we make it!”

but this year…

well, while the pain didn’t change…I found it even more difficult because the grief intensifies overtime…I thought I knew what pain was when I watched him being carried from my home covered in a blanket…dead, never to return again…and that was painful…excruciating to say the least, just the thought of that brings me to tears (I don’t often think of that day/night)…but you reach a certain point in the journey where the world just thinks your ok…that all is well, and if I have a down day, I had better learn to keep it at bay, or face people’s criticism of how I should be “thankful” or “moving on”…and that hurts equally as bad. see it’s not like a stubbed toe that causes immediate reactionary pain..but then lessens over time…he’s a child. was a child. living. breathing. I held him. he called me momma. he was my first child. and many who never met him just couldn’t believe how gentle of a spirit he was. rarely angry, never complained…loved to be held and to hug, and always told us how much we meant to him. his smile melted my soul. I wasn’t done with him yet. I wasn’t ready for it to be over. to be forced to let it happen. I didn’t want to tell him to go that damn night, it was a choice…I didn’t want him to feel bad for not being able to stay any longer. I didn’t want him to die there, I didn’t want it to happen that way. but as all moms know…it’s not about us. it’s always about THEM. each damn day I wake up knowing he’s gone. and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. I have to be ok with it. so I find a way to get on with the day. But I can say that this year he wasn’t always the first thing I thought of each morning with pain…so there has been progress. I no longer have any clue when it’s a Thursday as I once did. I don’t know how many weeks, or days he’s been gone. progress for sure. my life, my world revolved around all that crap last year. it held significance. the day of every 24th I barely take notice…


so much has stayed the same in my heart. I think of him now with great joy…and great hope…not always just sorrow. I’m a better person for knowing him, and I am so extremely blessed to have been chosen to be his mother…what a honor. I’ve found a bit of peace in this circumstance…because I know that life is for living…and I’m well aware of how it can be gone in an instant. the world owes me nothing.

I think about how our family dynamic has changed this past year. hunter is such an amazing biggest brother…he stepped into the role with pride, and it melts my heart to hear him still speak of Conner each day, tell me different things they used to do together, things he missed…how much he loves his big brother in heaven, he points out Conner’s star at night…having him be so vocal about his brother, helps me to feel like he isn’t just a memory. many people are done talking about him, or speaking his name…but in our home…his name is a constant…and it’s always said with a smile or a laugh. it’s an incredible blessing…

all of these are just difficult changes to deal with. it’s a new normal that we have to face…and it is constantly changing. Conner was 7…and this coming year Hunter will be 7…how will that feel? He’s going to outgrow Conner’s biggest clothes…how will that feel to have to buy bigger sizes that I should’ve already gotten years ago for Conner? there’s still so many things evolving and constantly changing…so there’s just no way that everyday can be so bright and happy. I started this blog for brutal honesty. so I won’t pretend or candy-coat a thing.

I cry still, very often…but in the privacy of my alone time…because now the pain when it strikes it’s much deeper than before…I “get it” more now. pictures and memories are all I have now. I understand that. I don’t remember the last time he walked thru my door…and I no longer expect that he will. crying in the beginning is so raw…it’s just screams, wails…intense, overwhelming pain. it’s part shock…part unbelief…part denial…but now…crying is deep sorrow. it’s choking down your throat, instant ugly cry…that vibrates down your entire being. my fingers to my toes tingle, I get hot, my head pounds in pain…and my heartbeat increases dramatically.

it’s a more healing cry than before…but hurts…hurts like hell.

I’ve learned so many lessons this year…the majority of it was spent in character building mode. learning who I am now. who we, as a family, are now. learning how to honor Conner and find some healing peace. I just want peace in my soul.

so much is thrown at us when we least expect it…from mail arriving in his name, fighting the IRS about him on our taxes…even to the most recent horror…someone vandalizing his “spot” at the cemetery…and it hurts. all of it. but somehow in it, we find HOPE for tomorrow…and try to keep our focus on the fact that today is so temporary…and that many of life’s struggles are really just sidetracks, or details…not of lasting importance…

I believe that 2012 is going to be a better year for us. It’ll still be hard, and that nagging pain won’t ever cease…but I have HOPE that we’ll find a way to handle it. gracefully. lovingly. respectfully. God has carried us for the past year and a half…not one day have I taken one step on my own two feet. there’s simply no way I’d be where I’m at today without His strong arms.

I just pray for all the newly bereaved parents I’ve met over this past year…I pray that you find some HOPE that your worst year is nearing it’s end, and that next year, will still be as painful…but also a bit more joyous.

So do I miss him? undoubtedly!

will I ever get over it? never ever!

do I cry? very often.

but do I smile? more than I cry!

do I dwell in the past? not as much as I live in the moment.

and if I could sum up my expectation of 2012…I’d say it’s going to be the year of our greatest joy, love and HOPE…

My song for this year…

Love Love Love my friends and happy new year!



Thursday, December 22, 2011

A mission of MAJOR awareness!

My Good friend, Josh Mogren has been working on a super secret (but not so secret) Moganko CF awareness video for quite some time. Moganko became a part of our family LONG before the Mogren’s ever did.

See…our sweet Conner you all know suffered from Cystic Fibrosis, but Moganko video’s brought joy, smiles and most importantly long BELLY laughs into our home in some of our darkest hours. Connerman loved his grover, I think that’s why he latched onto Moganko so quickly. There was never a place we went without Grover, he helped make the treatments of CF less painful and a whole lot less scary. If Conner had a surgery, Grover went and had the surgery as well, if Conner was away from home, you better believe Grover was with him, and even in death, Grover is taking care of him in heaven…here are just a few of his pictures with his Grover






Then when Josh appeared in our lives, from the very first Moganko video we watched, we were all drawn to him. Conner sent him messages and even tried to make his Grover come alive like Moganko for Josh’s birthday in 2010…

It truly was an amazing connection that Josh and our Conner had built in a very short amount of time. We’d skype each other while stuck in the hospital, or even from home, since we don’t live anywhere near one another. I remember the evening we lost Conner, I didn’t want Josh to learn about it on facebook…so I did everything I could to get ahold of him so he’d hear it from me, not sure if that happened because we all know how news travels so quickly…but out of Conner’s death our families’ have remained very connected…and shortly after Conner passed Josh and his wife Carly came to Washington with Moganko in tow and we were blessed to meet them!


So today marked the release of Josh’s CF awareness project that is going to bless the CF community, and I just know it’s going to spread around the country, world even, and bring light to the LEADING KILLER OF ALL GENETIC DISEASES…because a cure is needed, there are thousands being born with CF and dyeing from CF every single year, one dyeing each and everyday and many of them are children and young adults. A median age of early 30’s, while better than when Conner was first diagnosed, is still far too young. These individuals fight their entire lives to breathe, gain weight to stay healthy, live with PICC and ports, Iv’s, inhaled medications, chest physiotherapies and countless enzymes. They spend weeks even months in emergency rooms, hospital rooms and ICU’s, their parents watch as each breath is a struggle and beg and plead for a miracle cure.


Advancements are being made each day with the help of wonderful donations to the cf foundation, and families are getting much needed financial assistance to help cover tremendous expenses from organizations founded by people living with CF….but every breath should be easy, while on earth…because I hate the term “breathe easy in heaven…” everyone has the RIGHT to breathe free while here as well.

Without further ado…I want to spread Josh’s love to you all….and I encourage you to share it with all you know…

we WILL make CF stand for CURE FOUND…and this is a HUGE way to impact thousands…

Blessings and LOVE to you all, especially to you JOSH MOGREN…for spreading hope, courage and LOVE to the thousands living and dyeing from CF…paste the link below into your browser...and ENJOY...then SHARE!!!!!


Saturday, December 17, 2011

Like a flood I couldn’t stop…

Today marked the first time I’ve stepped foot in one of those places in…well probably around 19 months…it all came right back. the smells, the beeping, the hussle and bussle, everything. it caused me to remember so much of a life that I was forced to leave behind. medication routines, hell even names of those 17 medications and their dosages. in my past life that info rattled out of my mouth without thinking…but I’m so far removed from that world..that old me that it shocked me tonight just how much I’d forgotten…well until it came back to me. the beeping…oh lord the beeping.  the waiting. the wondering. the feeling that time stands still in those walls. it’s truly a world all it’s own. and one that used to be mine…but hasn’t been for so long.

I remembered what it was like to be in that fight. to advocate for him. to wait on dr’s, nurses and tests. I loved that life. it’s all I ever knew for 8 years. it made me feel like I could do anything…that my opinion…my hardwork would count for something…when in the end, it would never be enough. I remember sheltering him from pain…protecting him from unnecessary shots, tests and procedures. I remembered the absolute solid LOVE he felt for me and showed me in a single glance. he had my heart. and he trusted me with his.

we were an amazing team.

mother and child.

a love that nothing in this world could ever compare to. a bond that even in death can’t be broken.

yet because of the depth of trust and love, because we spent each moment together in sickness fighting or in health, loving and laughing, it makes the pain of his absense so unbarable so often. I felt needed in a way that I probably never will in my life again. my husband and two living children need me, and others need and count on me as well…but a parent of a terminally ill child understands that is a need of it’s own variety. that is an intense, special, protected and once in a lifetime bond that is too big for words. I needed to fight for him to feel like I had some control over his decline (though I know I didn’t), doing everything for him was my life. my joy. my purpose.

the ER.

I wish I didn’t have to visit you tonight…but I had to. there was no way of getting around it, and honestly didn’t think twice about it til I got back to a room…

then his life…our life that is no longer ours…all came rushing back to me…

oh how I miss him…

Friday, December 9, 2011

Handle with care…

Much of this journey called grief I still don’t fully understand. I try…and I know little by little, in time…I will understand much that I don’t know today. there are a few things I do know for certain…and I feel it appropriate to share them…there have been so many families torn apart this past month in particular, by CF or other causes…and I’ve seen so many people unintentionally cause pain to those deep in grief simply by well meaning comments that are actually, not at all helpful to the families. I’m not trying to make anyone feel bad or guilty..but being on this side of life I know firsthand how much a comment while said with a loving heart and caring spirit, can stick with a person and hurt them very deeply. maybe the person will never express the pain it caused…but it will always kind of be there…there are many comments and situations that still now I struggle with from time to time. forgiveness and love are there too…but something comes up that may trigger it…and today I just needed to pray for a peaceful heart. I felt angry all over again. so please just know this is from love…

please don’t ever say to a grieving friend:

“it wasn’t meant to be”

“God needed another angel”

“now he can breathe free”

“no more pain”

“everything happens for a reason”

“god has a plan”

or comments of that sort. while we fully know the pure intentions meant behind the words…as a parent whose lost a child…when someone has said something like that to me it enrages me. trust me that I know god has a plan…and I would rather Conner be free from pain…and I do believe he’s in heaven, whether or not he’s an angel is unknown…but here’s what I know. I’d still rather have him here with me. and any parent whose lost a child would say the same thing. when I see these or comments like these posted to people…I just cringe. these comments are in no way helpful.

an alternative…a simple “I’m so sorry for your pain…or your loss” is a phrase that is genuine and touches deeply in our hearts. because nobody can change the outcome of the situation, and we don’t expect people to…we just want to be able to express our pain freely and have people love us in the pain without trying to justify it somehow or candy coat it. when someone says I’m sorry…it’s the best two words that I could ever imagine hearing.


please don’t ever do to a grieving person:

when they express pain…don’t change it to your own pain comparison. it’s not helpful, and it’s actually quite hurtful. what it says to a parent whose hurting is that our pain isn’t unique..and isn’t important on it’s own. that it doesn’t matter. I absolutely believe and know that each loss causes a great deal of people so much anguish and pain…but the pain the immidiate family feels is unlike any other person will feel…so turning their comments of pain into your own sadness or your own grief really sends the message that our pain isn’t justified. and that my friends hurts the most.

instead…parent to parent of childloss we know the pain the other family is feeling so comments like that almost never happen…but even distant family or friends who feel the loss as well should just simply send prayers, offer love or to help in some way…and never compare the pain that is so different…its hard to explain but it is just painful.


don’t go overboard talking about the loss…as well as ignore it and never talk about it…it’s a very delicate balance…but follow the cues of the person in pain. somedays they will want to talk about them a lot…or the pain all day…and somedays just don’t even want to mention the name because the pain is so intense…or they simply want a day to not think about it.

please don’t forget the person/family after the dust settles:

some of the people that huddled so close to us before, during and immidately after Conners passing are no where to be found anymore. not so much as a text to say hello…or anything. and that’s very hard. so while it’s so important to be there when everything is new…and the pain is outwardly raw…I think it’s even more important to be there for the long haul. doesn’t mean you have to call everyday or anything like that. each family needs their own balance, definitely. but to go from being so close to someone…maybe even sharing in the death of that person which is a moment that forever changed us…and then to not hear from them much later…just hurts like hell.

November I can’t even count how many we lost to CF. young and old, even a brand new baby. and right now a dear family is batteling the loss of a precious soul who reached out to us in Conners end days…I ask that you pray for Spencer Riddle and his wife, Nikki. Please send love and prayers to this beautiful soul as he’s spending his last days with his new wife…in a hospital bed barely holding on. my heart breaks for you Nikki. and one thing for certain…is you can count on me to be there to check in on you for years to come…because all we have in this world is love, friendships and time. and there is no better way to spend time then loving others….

never be afraid to reach out to someone grieving…many days they are completely ignored…and what a difference even just a hello or a genuine smile can truly make…

blessings to you all…

and as always…LOVE LOVE LOVE because nothing else matters…

Sunday, November 27, 2011

reality check

Another Holiday Season is upon us now. in full swing. thanksgiving with Brad’s family, Black Friday shopping and yes even a Christmas tree. Where did the year go? I can’t believe we’re inching closer to completing our first calandar year without Conner with us. He sometimes seems as if just a distant memory. I’m sure that sounds strange…see of course I remember him and have years of amazing memories to hold close…but the specifics…how he would be now as an 8.5 year old…it’s all surreal. I am amazed at all the little things Hunter can recall…about video games they played together and there are many times that I just can’t remember what he looked like cuddled on his favorite end of the couch. how does that happen? it makes me feel like it’s all just a bad nightmare. it’s hard to pick hunter up from school and his school best friend has an older brother that was conner’s bestfriend at that same age. to see how old he is now, all big in the 3rd grade and just wondering how conner would look like, would he still be my sweet boy or start to test the waters and get a little boy attitude….? I’ll never know. I think what may be hardest is this year we know he’s gone…last holiday season we were still a bit in shock and wishing that he’d be there someway, somehow…but now a year later we know he won’t. we’re not really hoping for it anymore. does that make sense?

reality is cruel sometimes.

it’s hard to really write these truths out…I feel a bit like a broken record…like maybe I’m not really entitled to hurt openly anymore…it’s been too long. maybe I’ll be seen as weak, depressed, out of hope…broken…but what I really, truly am…is a mom whose hurting. who will always hurt. a beautiful boy that meant so much to us is no longer with us but in memory and that’s something that time can never take away. I guess I hope that in some way my being honest is providing reassurance or hope to another family struggling with grief somewhere. I know my story is not at all unique. there are many moms and dads in this club…and I wonder if they too feel they have to now suffer silently since maybe it’s been awhile…but I feel that if I lie and deny the truth…and the pain that I’m really saying that he didn’t matter…that his death wasn’t the single most defining moment of my lifetime. and I’m not one to lie. nor would I ever limit his lifes meaning to just a year of mourning. how could i?

Sweet Hunter’s been having nightmares of Conner…waking up screaming in the night for me or Brad. it’s heartbreaking when we have no good or satisfying answers for him. only hugs and kisses and prayers to comfort him. seems so inadequate in the grand scheme of his pain.

there are less and less nights where brad or I cry ourselves to sleep…but the pain is still there like it was the night he left. I don’t believe that time truly heals…I think time brings a bit more reality of the situation…and you learn ways to cope. more and more I find my brain taking me back to that last day with him. I recall sights, sounds, people, laughter, tears, prayers, oxygen buzzing, phone conversations, visitors, flowers, I remember the look on his face…I remember the panic in his eyes…I remember every little detail…and it paralyzes me. then I recall the aftermath, the funeral, the generosity of strangers, burying him, all of it. before now my brain hasn’t really let me think of the details…the details are painful.

I remember the feeling of deep sadness grieving the loss of his CF docs in our lives as well. I had to let every detail of his life go. I had to mourn it all one by one. his future, his wishes, his presence, his teams of drs, his friends…and I thought that after spending so much time with the CF team fighting, strategizing, and talking together that I’d never be able to move on. to find a new identity really. the old me had to die too. what a difficult process. I held on so tightly. but I had to let it go. and now I know for sure that I have let it go. I still think of the CF team with great affection and love…but I don’t “need” them like I thought I did…like the old me did. I’ve found a new me…one with different meaning, different goals and a whole new perspective on life. I still participate in the CF walk each year and help sell CF wreaths for the holidays…but other than that I’ve taken a HUGE step back from CF. I had to decide that it could no longer be a huge priority in my new life. CF stole so much from us already, and I couldn’t continue to let it take time away from my precious living family. and I’m very much ok with that now. the old me would never even dream of doing that! but Bradyn and Hunter deserve all of me now like they never had before…and I love having some stability in our lives…not having to worry about our next trip to the ER or the hospital…



A new life full of free time that we never had before. it’s bittersweet for sure. I’d rather have Conner here with us…growing and loving with us here in our home…oh to have him within arms distance…I can’t imagine how wonderful that would feel to hug him…but now I know that for sure I won’t be able to do that on this earth. he’s not coming back. and I must make the most of the time I have here to love my family the way they deserve and the way that makes me feel whole again. if only for a moment…

Love  Love  Love

Monday, October 17, 2011


Sunday was the big day.

13.1 miles in the Girlfriends Half Marathon.

It was my goal for this year after losing Conner. Running has been my sanity and outlet for the better part since his passing…finding different routes, offroad and in the very early hours of the morning. I love to do the walks for Cystic Fibrosis each May, but if I’m honest (which I should be here) I will admit that I’m needing a big deep breath away from CF functions. I love to stay involved in whats new with my CF families that we adore, but as far as the advances in research, the big events…I need to step away. and being that our CF walk is only 3 miles I figured I’d need a bigger goal for this year. so in january I decided to do a half marathon this year.

in the beginning I trained hard. erin and I ran 3-4 times a week, averaging 20 miles a week and felt great. this summer however…we both had vacations, trainings and travel, so running took a backseat! then school started and inevitably I came down with the junk my kiddos brought home from school, so running was pushed even farther aside….

suddenly I woke up and I had ONE week til the race…that’s right…ONE WEEK! and I hadn’t run in probably close to 6 weeks! I was freaked out! With the race approaching on Sunday, Erin and I ran 5 miles on Monday, I did Zumba on Tuesday then Sarah and I ran a quick 2 miles on Thursday then rested til sunday.

so sunday morning, Sarah her sister Amy, and I sat at the start line…I could not believe I was about to actually run a half marathon…with NO TRAINING! the 5 miles I ran earlier in the week was ok, but not great…and I felt like I was coming down with another cold saturday night…pretty much the odds were not in my favor.

but the sign that was hanging on the Start line was perfect…and set the tone for the entire run!


(the woman who starts the race, is not the same woman who finishes the race)

I will spare the details…but I finished! my legs were DONE, but they (and conner) carried me thru to the finish line. And the best part was coming around the end corner to the finish line and seeing my boys right there waiting for me!


I’m glad I completed my goal. I’m glad I’m still able to walk! But mostly I’m glad that I had some amazing women by my side who gave me the best support without even knowing it,


and my boys being there to raise my spirits when I needed it most…


so HA! take that CF…


Some ran for cancer, some for bragging rights, for Sarah and Amy it was for Blake…but for me, it wasn’t just to show CF whose boss…it was for my Connerman…I’m proud to say that I finished for you, dear Conner. Mommy misses you terribly…I hope you know just how much I love you!



love love love

Monday, October 10, 2011

The valley…

There are so many days where I still can’t believe all that has happened. its like a flash back into the old me, the me I used to be. you know the one who took days for granted and believed that time would stand still for our sweet son. I believed in a cure for him. I believed Denver would take him, or that I could convince that dang drug company to get him on a drug trial that could save his life. the days where it was still normal to take a minimum 50 minutes each morning of therapies and IV’s and medications just to get out the door. The days where it was literally impossible to get out of bed and just head out to tackle the day…Conner wouldn’t be able to breathe in that old life. and now there are days that I can’t breathe peace into our day. my day. I think I’m reminded of the pain daily because there are so many suffering right now. so many losses, not just in the CF community, but in life in general it seems. So many sick struggling to breathe, sisters watching their sisters pass away…sons watching their dads dyeing and on and on. it’s heartbreaking.

the change in weather has affected me as well. the constant gloom and rain remind me of last fall. my first fall without him. the first time heading into the holidays full of sorrow instead of anticipation. I can hardly believe that the holiday’s are upon us again. I’m not sure how we’ll spend them this year…we are thankful for all that God has blessed our family with and the love He continues to show our family…so thanksgiving may not be so bad this year…I am so thankful for being chosen to be Conner’s mother. Yet in the same breath I’m hurt how fast it flew by. moments don’t last forever. memories fade after time. I don’t remember some of the most important things about him. how it sounded to hear him breathe…that horrible CF cough that was a staple in our home I’ve grown to miss because it was part of him, I forgot how he smelled, how soft his hands were, just how dark his birthmark on his leg was, or even which leg it was on. I forgot the feel of his soft tummy he used to let me snuggle up to, I’ve forgotten the smell of his breath and the warmth of his embrace. I forgot just how he sounded when he told me he loved me. it’s only been 16 months and there is so much of him gone…so far away it seems.


what hurts is the ups and downs of grief. it’s constantly changing and gives NO warning. one moment life is going good…I smile more, I love more and reach out more…then the next moment it’s gone and replaced with sadness. I’ve gotten used to living with the pain each day…his memory is still the most common thing on my brain, but for the most part it doesn’t make me weepy. well I’m in one of those weepy lulls. so much has changed in our home, in our lives and he’s not here to be a part of it. I’m not bitter nor am I angry…I just get sad. I’ve learned to go with the ebb and flow of grief. and just let it come. but sometimes it makes me feel inadequate. because just when I feel I’ve taken a tiny step forward I’m shoved back down and forced to feel the intense pain all over again. I wish it was predictable. but there are parts of my life where I’ve taken a leadership position since his passing, or stepped forward to help in some way or another, and when I’m shoved back down from the pain I feel like I’m worthless to others. like how can I be there and be strong for others I’ve committed to if I in my valley? I know I will again climb out of that valley when I’ve spent my time in the depths and I will be stronger on the other side of each valley…but while I’m in the valley…I feel fake. un-genuine. lonely. superficial. alone. I just fake it til I make it thru. but all I really wanna do is curl up and just shut the door to the world and be alone in my pain. it overtakes me when it comes. I can’t focus. It becomes hard to do regular every day chores again…cooking becomes a HUGE mountain to be climbed…I can’t do it. laundry piles up and dishes sit in the sink…and I just feel I can’t do life well. because it’s not just pain or sorrow. it’s physical pain too. my body hurts my head pounds, I’m exhausted and can’t remember anything unless I write it down. it literally is like he just died.


and I have to sit in that valley and pray my way out of that valley when I’ve seen or heard or learned what He needs me to learn in that valley, so I can come out the other side of it better. closer. fuller. but in the valley it’s dark and scary…and I don’t know what He will ask me to do. My first valley I had to build walls around the 4 of us and redefine friendships and really start life over in a way. nothing was how it was before. it was a new beginning. that was a hard valley to walk out of. I sat in it for a long while. so in this valley what will I be adding to my life, or ridding from my life? will it be easy or difficult? there’s just no way of knowing without surrendering and walking into it…and praying my way out of it when I’m ready.

it’s necessary. the molding. maybe that’s what He was trying to do with me all along, long before Conner’s health started declining. but I didn’t listen because I was too busy to listen. red flag after red flag I would ignore and never feel good about myself. always a void. always something missing. it was always Him. but now I surrender to the lessons. I know that when the days become too much to bear and I feel weepy that another valley is coming…and I have to chose to push it away for awhile or to tackle it head on. it’s not an easy decision. because choosing the pain and the molding, is a total surrender. it’s being ok with the lack of motivation or energy and focusing on what I’m learning in my devotional time, prayer time and quiet time. and not rushing it. it’s like a storm. you never know when it’s going to come until it’s upon you. you see signs and signals…but not too long before. then you must take cover, or protect yourself from the elements. to seek shelter so it doesn’t destroy you. spend quality time indoors and be ready when the storm clears to walk outside and enjoy life again and fix what’s been broken and move forward. stronger.


and I’ll be honest…

sometimes I don’t wanna move forward. every step forward is one away from the old me…the life I used to live. and it feels like a step away from what was with Conner. I realize it’s also a step towards the promised forever with him…but right now, here on earth…in my heart it just feels so far away. it feels like forever since he gave me a hug while laying on my lap…


it feels like forever since we’d sit in that hospital together fighting to save his lungs from damage…fighting to save his life…


feels like forever since we celebrated his last birthday with the Fire Dept and friends with red balloons…


it just feels like forever since I was worried about losing him. I remember being so afraid and so hurt and so scared and unsure. I just never believed it’d be real so soon. I fought hard. he fought harder. and in the end it wasn’t enough. it was his time. and now it’s my time to figure out what in the world to do with myself…without him…

a mother in that dreaded valley once again…



Thursday, September 22, 2011

Letting Go of this world and truly Letting God


I understand and respect that there are people who don’t believe in God…maybe they consider themselves spiritual but not religious. Maybe even 15 months ago you could say that I didn’t really know what it meant to truly believe and follow…and most of all what it meant to really “let go and let God.” It is a phrase that I’d heard many times in many different settings and situations, but never really knew what it meant, or try to apply that principle to my everyday life. a struggle would come upon me of any circumstance and I’d get the advice to “let go…let God,” and I would always answer quickly with the words “easier said than done.” and left it at that. because letting go means to relinquish control from it. to fully walk away from the circumstance or situation and just KNOW that God is in complete control. Here’s why I think I felt that way. because I would witness bad things happening to great people. children diagnosed with one disease, a mother getting the news her cancer has spread, or even circumstances as small as a child not getting picked for the baseball team. whatever the circumstance, I felt that if God was good that he wouldn’t let good people, who profess their love and commitment to Him get hurt. To let go and let God meant that while bad things happen to great people that it should be viewed as ok. (this is all the way I looked at it…) a good God who let bad happen. it didn’t make any sense.

then conner started declining and something shifted in my heart. I didn’t feel like it was unfair or a punishment. I didn’t feel like it was “something bad happening to a good family” at all. I was heartbroken, in immense pain absolutely…but at a new peace with God. I realized that God blessed our family with Conner for 7 amazing years and I felt at peace knowing where he was heading. it’s not like I didn’t already believe in God…but I didn’t know how to let go and let god.

until june 24, 2010…11:30ish pm…

that moment I learned in the purest sense what it really means to let go and let God. I prayed a prayer of thanksgiving to God for the blessing of our sons life…and I told him that I would be ok if he was ready to take him. because there was no unknown for me. nor my husband. we knew that heaven was real and gods love is tangible. I had to let go of conner’s physical presense in that moment and give him to god for protection. it wasn’t a hard transition in the moment…numbness is gods great blessing to me in that moment and for months after it. I knew conner was gone with god. and I continued to love and honor god anyway. thru it all. without a doubt in the plan. yes there was absolutely anger, sadness, pain and frustration…that’s grief and it’s normal and necessary…but there was also beauty in imagining conner running, heck even walking without oxygen or iv’s or tube feeds or medication after medication. there was peace in knowing that when I let go of conners physical presense…that I would be letting god take his spiritual presense. I believe it was the most important decision of my life. choosing to let god do His job instead of blaming God for his death.

what made me think of this all is in my quiet time with god I kept getting the same visualization, and hearing the same phrase over and over again. it looked like this: Let Go (d)  let go let god. then it clicked and all came together.

I’d learned how to let go and let god. and it wasn’t the horribly unfair thing I thought it was before. it was beautiful and powerful. maybe that’s why I can smile so much of the day. I have no doubt at all where conner is, I don’t feel he was unfairly taken away, I don’t feel punished…I miss him terribly, but I know how close conner is to me. each and every day. that further validates my hopes and faith. its what made it possible for me to move past the ugliness that occurred after his passing. only god can do that. only putting my faith in god to help me…would have the power to do that. I’m at peace with life now. I smile all day long, no reason even needed…just knowing that god relieved my son of his sufferings is reason enough.

I have many days where I’m constantly thinking of conner. it’s actually every single day that I think of him. especially lately with all the changes we’re experiencing. sending hunter to kindergarten made me flash back to when I dropped conner off and hunter cried and cried. hunter also has conners teacher. hunter lost his first tooth, and likewise it took me back to conners first wiggly tooth. today I went upstairs to clean out the attick and toy cabinet and got on a roll…and found myself in conners room. packing away the important items that I feel are too precious to be left out to be lost or ruined. I finally took all the cards we received after his passing (I’m not kidding when I say close to 500 at least), and his funeral “stuff” and moved all of it into his closet for safe keeping and another day. I’m not ready to dive into it yet, I haven’t even opened his clothing drawers. I removed his bedding from the room and took his get well posters and put them in safe keeping. the room is pretty bare. the closet is full, the room bare. I found a tote of clothes for B to fit into and I saw a pair of conners thomas the train flannel jammies that he used to wear in the hospital. most things that come out of the attic take on that musty attic smell, even in totes…but I smelled the jammies anyway.

they smelled of conner.

I held them to my heart and felt the emotions come over me.

I realized I’d forgotten what he smelled like. it’s been too long.

I tried sniffing other clothes in that bin but the rest smelled of attic.

the best word I can use to describe that moment was intense.

intense emotions. vivid memories. took me back to the hospital where he and I fought the fight as one.

I was pretty out of it after that, for the remainder of the afternoon and into the evening. my heart once again took on that heavy feeling, my heart beat raced and my eyes stung with tears. it was like june 24, 2010 was yesterday it was that intense and that real.

then I remembered…

I had to let him go. I had to let god take him. not so much take him as save him. rescue him. heal him and use his story to glorify god and bring meaning to other peoples lives. to reach into peoples hearts and be so raw that they can literally see god in his story.

I  chose to let him go instead of feeling punished for taking him away…

…and god saved him.

thank god for that.

Let Go(d)


Friday, September 2, 2011

Doing life differently…a transformation

Second chances are such a huge blessing. and I wouldn’t even say that it is infact as much of a second chance as it is, a redirection. because we have endless chances to switch gears, and change patterns…but only one life to do it in. and with forgiveness and grace we are allowed as many second beginnings as we need to finally get it right. or…what feels right.


second chances are truly a rebirth of oneself. out with the old and in with the new. it’s usually gradual I would suspect but sometimes life throws you a brick at your ankles and forces you to stop. just stop. and be still. stop avoiding the silence and just revel in it. listen in it. whether or not you believe in God in that silence you will hear the truth. your own unique truth. the way to your rebirth. your fresh start. it provides that 20/20 vision that we all wish we had all the time… “if I only knew then what I know now…” right? the silence provides perspective, clarity and answers long awaited in receiving, but too rushed to hear it before then.


you can only continue on in the wrong direction for so long before life stops you. god stops you. and whether it’s with a gentle nudge or full out push in the right direction He’s going to get you to see whats real. and whats fake. whats temporary. whats eternal. whats trusting. and what will let you down. he provides perspective.


I can truthfully say that since losing Conner life has been constantly changing. I embraced each direction that I was being turned towards. never knowing but never doubting. I knew god before losing conner. but I didn’t KNOW him like I do now. death changes everything. the child that I carried and nurtured, protected and fought for dyeing in mine and Brads arms changed everything. I was forced into a choice of betterment, molding of my character, blindly following and having faith not knowing where I was going…OR believe that his death was a punishment or evil having it’s way and crumbling me to the ground. forcing me to give up.

I never believed the lie.

I can honestly say that going from that night in June when Conner was being carried out of our home for the very last time ever that my lifes purpose and direction changed with the shutting of that front door. I knew the only way I’d ever get to be with him again was to really give 100% of me. not when it was convenient or easy…but always. in the darkest hour in my life thus far I could get out of bed each morning and greet the day knowing that today I was going to be molded and loved, protected and guided. and I was going to be shown exactly what it means to truly believe and follow GOD. He would show me just what I needed to do that day to be one step closer to Conner again.


it cost a lot. following Him will cost you. but the reward is much superior than any reward I could create for myself. a shift in priorities means a shift in influences, friends and acquaintances come and go and rather than let it get to me I had to decide that gods eternal reward is far greater than any earthly friendship or reward that could ever be offered to me. conner’s death gave me that perspective. God love showed me the truth. I decided that I couldn’t continue on living the way I had been…only half in. that if the death of someone so significant and important to me like my son didn’t kill me…that in it I could truly be made stronger. little things stopped mattering. but adding significance and true meaning to peoples lives (family included) is the only way to fill that void of time that I had spent caring for Conner for 7 years. I couldn’t fill that time with anything without value or substance.


our lives are filled with time and choices. those are our two greatest gifts and assets. lending an ear to someone in pain is far more valuable than spending that half hour watching tv or just existing. I had conners med schedule down to a T and so I became very aware of what I was supposed to be doing at any given time if Conner were still alive…so I couldn’t allow myself to fill that precious life saving time with activities that weren’t truly valuable and meaningful. that made my shift easier to begin. if it didn’t add significance or value, I didn’t do it. I couldn’t feel right doing it. I became more open to listening to what god spoke into my life for that day and believe me some days it was something as small as “smile today”…baby steps. He truly does give us just what we can handle at any given moment with the right recourses. on days when my grief was and still is overwhelming to me I just smile during the day to people. they too can be living out their greatest life tragedy and what a difference a smile made for me on days where getting out of bed and putting a hat on was all I could muster. so how amazing and easy of a blessing it is to simply smile as you pass by people…it could change that entire day for them. I realized that I became a walking vessel for gods love. since he is unseen on earth…he uses the willing to spread his simple and undeserving love to everyone around. I would write blogs on what he fills in my heart that day, just as I am now…because I’ve seen over and over how something I’ve written has blessed another’s life when they needed it most. that is not me. and it’s a blessing to be able to be a vessel of gods grace, love and miracles…

so much is changing for us now. we smile more than cry…we feel thankfulness more than sorrow. we’ve learned how to live a blessed life with the pain of grief simultaneously. our story will be a testament of standing in the rain. of standing back up when the world tried to knock us over. what I know for sure is that we truly CAN do all things thru Him…if we choose to. what a beautiful choice that is. and I truly know that if I can make it after losing Conner, that I can make it thru anything…

and I will always choose to

love love love

Thursday, August 4, 2011

a simple little toothbrush…

What in the world is the big deal?????

Why today of all days to notice something that I hadn’t noticed before…or maybe I have, I can’t recall…



5 toothbrushes remain in our holder….

today it just got to me.

there’s only 4 living in this home.

one is no longer present.

but his toothbrush is.

I’m getting one child back to school clothes to go to elementary school…

there’s supposed to be two going to elementary together…

but there’s only one.

none of this gets much easier.

time definitely doesn’t, couldn’t possibly heal all wounds.

the pain remains.

a dull, nagging…that’s always there kind of pain.

not much else really matters sometimes.

but for some reason today while I was getting ready in the bathroom…he flooded my mind. and the tears came.

over a dumb toothbrush.

well not the toothbrush itself but what it represented…or lack there of I guess.

I’m tired of visiting a cemetary just to try to make sense of why I can’t see him anymore. I know he’s not there…but it’s all I have. it’s the last place I left him. I hate it. I hate when it rains and I feel the need to shelter his stone from the cold. why? I hate that sometimes I have nightmares of how his body looks now. it’s horrible. I hate that I feel like this. the more I read though, the more I realize how not alone I am in this. there are many moms and dads struggling to cope with the worst loss imaginable. I just hate sometimes just how much I miss him. the pain of it can be crippling.

the constant thoughts.

mind wandering.



then some joy.

some smiles.

some really good days.



the sadness.

the pain.

the numbness.

the headache and pounding of an anxious heart.

I hate hearing Hunters sadness over losing his best friend. “why did he have to die?” how scary for a very imaginative 5 year old boy. he knows his brothers gone…so now he won’t barely let us leave his sight, he’s scared to death that he could wake up again just like last June, only this time myself or Brad will be gone. he’s only 5. he suffers so…



Last week I had to get a photo of Conner for a friend to her. I was so devestated how far back in my pictures I had to go to get one of him. He’s not taking any new pictures. he’s gone. I have files and files of “family” photo’s, only he’s not in them.

they’re incomplete.
Hunter and Bradyn are growing up. and he never will. with us.

There sweet faces make me so thankful to have them here with me. and you can only imagine how much we love on them. I think they’re the most well loved kids I’ve ever met. because we know just how tomorrow could turn out. no guarantees. so we smother our kids with kindness, time and love. hugs and kisses. tickle tortures and dancing. pb&j for breakfast…and sometimes even lunch and dinner. we run thru the sprinkler together, sidewalk chalk together, ride bikes, read books, play at the park, go to the library and even plant in Conner’s garden together. almost always holding hands and always kisses…I’m lucky to have them.



who would’ve thought…a simple, stupid toothbrush could hold so many memories…

I miss him so much.

love love love



Sunday, July 31, 2011

Contentment is foolishness…

Not a single day goes by where I don’t think of Conner at least a million times. his presence and memory envelope me in everything I to, every place I go and never ceases. I miss him terribly. I don’t too often allow myself to wallow in the pain, or even think about the deep emotions that are behind the phrase “my son has passed away” because that’s truly an easy phrase to say…as long as you don’t connect it to emotions. but in silence and stillness I allow myself to connect it. to feel it. and it’s just so intense I swear its like he just left yesterday. I’m used to the pictures of him hanging in our home, I’m used to the medications being gone and his room remaining empty…but connecting the pain to the truth. reality. it’s still too much for me to handle. I believe that there must be a million silent suffering parents in this world. in the craziness of this world, I know that children die every single day. parents openly grieve. but then slip into a silent suffering. a pain that is too deep and too intense to even talk about to anyone. because nobody will understand. nobody ever could imagine it. in these moments when I sit and just think of Conner it’s still debilitating. and he’s been gone 13 months. really?

can that possibly be true?

maybe Ive fallen for the common misconception that in this life we should strive for contentment. to find a peace and happiness in every aspect of our lives. I see the importance of balance and tranquility, of a calm soul and a peaceful heart…but this world is a very dark place. we’re constantly bombarded with stress and everyones opinions and problems. we’re too busy because we feel the need to keep moving, maybe as a unconscious coping mechanism to avoid hearing all the negativity that is so readily available for our ears…whether we ask for it or not. this world is full of criticism and harsh words. I think there’s a point to it. and I think it applies to all aspects of my life as a grieving mother, a mom to two wonderful sons, a wife and a person. here’s my great secret…

we’re not supposed to be content on this earth

God doesn’t want us to be. that’s the only way this constant pain in my heart makes any sense at all. I’ve felt so isolated and alone with these feelings and emotions…and then I realized, that discontentment to this world and all it has to offer us…means finding contentment for the world that’s promised to us after all of this…

I have always known that I will never get over Conner, and that the pain would one day magically disappear, but I never took it the step farther as to why it wouldn’t. why it shouldn’t. for if I skip over my feelings and try to find earthly contentment in what’s happened in my life…then I miss the whole point of life.

the yearning for something more

something only God can provide. He’s promised to save a place for me if only I trust in Him and follow Him. For me it’s easier than ever because there’s a precious soul whose waiting for me there that I must not let down. my life and soul depend upon it. and I must lead and guide my living sons in the same manner so we will all achieve our hearts deepest desire to be a family of 5 once more. but this time forever and ever. and always, always, always.

God doesn’t dole out punishments to us nor does he want to see a single tear shed from our eyes. but what he does want is for when the storms come…the negativity, the loss of loved ones, the unhappiness and despair, because we all know they will come…He wants us to hold that pain and truth dear to us to remind us just how impermanant this life truly is. to help us yearn for the eternity that’s been promised. lets face it, we’re all one text or call away from a pain that has no cure. a call that will stop the world from spinning and challenge everything you’ve ever believed in your life. and choosing the pain as as a stepping stone to something bigger that God is yearning to show you is all I could imagine doing. and believe me it’s not been easy. I’d give anything to have Conner back. but I know how I used to be, the person I used to be. the things I used to do. the contentment I had in this world. my assurances of tomorrow. and now…a child of 7 has taught me more this past year about the purpose of our existance, and I know for sure that I never would’ve “gotten it” any other way…

so I cry and grieve.

I yearn and I hope.

I hang loosely to all that this world has to offer

and cling to the promise of a place much greater than this.

and I realize that being content in what this world has to offer is settling for less than what God wants for us.

and I’d rather have that instead.


Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Days go by…

I hate days like today when I can feel the void of his presence. I hate when I just sit and I know he’s gone. Feels like forever, yet feels like just yesterday at the same time. old pictures and old videos is all I have remaining that I can hold onto when I have days like these. I look at my counters and how bare they are. they used to be stacked high of medications, vials, IV flushes, alcohol wipes, nebulizers air drying…but no longer. I keep finding remnants of the life I once lived scattered in random places. I found an inhaler and his spare MICKEY button for his Gtube. I found syringes. An over abundance of liquid ibuprofen in our cupboards because of his high fevers his last few living months.

but what I really want?

to hold him. just to feel him. touch him, smell him, kiss him, and never let him go. to see again that goofy half missing tooth, half HUGE tooth smile that melted my heart. to hear his sweet voice, and to watch him light up when his baby B walked in the room with his “squishy cheeks”. to listen to him teach Hunter how to do all things boy…and I would give anything to hear 3 kids fighting over random, meaningless toys instead of just 2. the silence is the killer.

one year doesn’t really mean anything in grieving. it just means that I’m used to the ache. the constant mind-wandering, the constant…reminders that oh yes, infact, he is gone. it means we made it thru the holidays in one piece and we survived D-Day as best we could. but the pain…stays the same. hunter…my sweet middle child Hunter was not meant to be the biggest brother. it’s been a huge transition to be the big boy in the car, teaching B how to say different words, and all that goes along with being nearly 3. and it just breaks my heart that B will never know the Conner we adored. The Conner that causes Hunter sadness so often. “why did he have to die mommy…” uh…I can’t explain how my heart rips into even thinner shreds each time Hunter asks me that question, or cries for his brother.

there is purpose…and I have faith that there is…but pain…I’m just tired of hurting. God has extended me farther this past year then I could’ve ever imagined. he’s provided amazing support for our family and positive people to be there when we need to be built back up. For those blessings I am thankful indeed.

we’re heading into vacation without him. everything is now without…

I hate being without…

it’s the hardest chore ever to try to learn to feel whole again…all the while knowing I never truly will this side of heaven…I’m a mother without.




Love Love Love

Thursday, July 7, 2011


“Man is not perfect. and a free choice may be good or bad. That leaves man with a tremendous potential. a frightening one. that leaves man as a channel of light or a party to darkness. there’s no way NOT to choose…you either make a choice, or by not making a choice that IS your choice. God did not pick you to die.  rather, nature had its way. nature and man, neither perfect. but all of us subject to the processes they set in motion. how guilty am i? WHAT HAVE MY MANY THOUGHTLESS ACTS SET INTO MOTION? How many times have I done nothing and so abetted the darkness? how responsible am i?

and god.

Where is he in all of this?

he changes neither the acts of nature nor of man. we remain free. he created us free, and with that terrible freedom we live. but the moment we prefer the light, he transforms…HE TRANSFORMS NOT THE CIRCUMSTANCES, WHICH WE CREATE…HE TRANSFORMS US! He transforms how we see what has been there all along. it never changes. God never changes.


I’m reading the most amazing book/journal. it is so inspiring to me and is helping me to not feel so different…I can read what other moms have gone thru losing their children and knowing that I’m not alone and I am not weird. I am normal. grief isn’t a one year or even five year process…it’s lifelong. I’m so thankful for this book. any mama’s out there needing a book of LOVE and understanding I highly recommend “Song for Sarah” by Paula D’Arcy.

Such emotions lately. So much going on bringing out pain that has been best left buried deep within me. only temporary those hiding spots are though. In this pain I’ve learned so much about life. I feel blessed to know these special secrets that only those in this “club” know. because before losing Conner I never would’ve gotten it. not even in the fight for his life. I thought that taught me a lot. not even close to now. a fight shows you that god is there. the fight shows you that people have a heart for good, or that they don’t. the fight teaches you that you are stronger and can handle more than you realized. but after the loss…that’s where push comes to shove. its so easy to pray for miracles and pray for peace. to pray for your childs health and for their pain and their life. that’s easy. it’s easy to have faith in god when your child is still laying next to you and the world still makes sense…

but after the loss…

the entire world changes. you’re not you anymore. you’re family isn’t the same family anymore…the missing piece causes an interruption in every aspect of who you once were. that person I used to be is a memory. a very distant one. each day I grow closer to who god is molding me and who he intended for me to be all along. after the loss, your forced to really chose god…or decide not to chose him. that’s where faith is tested and where you learn that there is no guarantees in this world…you see it just for what it is. you learn that you wasted so much time, even in that beautiful fight on things of such unimportance. because now…you have a full house it seems…only without that one it really is an empty house. everything becomes meaningless. it’s unimportant to your daily existence. here’s what I have now…a closet full of clothes taunting me. causing me pain. why? their only clothes…but they represent so much to me. His room doesn’t cause me pain. his toys don’t because the boys always shared all their toys so nothing is strictly his. but his clothes. hunter could fit into them now. but I won’t let him. I can’t imagine seeing his last clothes on anyone else. I’ve always passed clothes down thru my boys but these ones are different. they have so much meaning. I look at them and remember vividly him in them. even down to his underwear. I can imagine how silly it sounds. but what’s the importance of these clothes? it’s a lot like so much in life. we think is desperately important. like being on time. like having a perfectly neat and tidy home. like putting our kids in private school, never missing sunday school and making sure our children are perfect in the presence of others. while respect for others and manners do matter…the child matters more. you can’t understand it fully until you’ve lost it. I wish for you to see it now while you still have it. the child matters more. loving openly without regret. throwing the daily schedule out the door and living in the moment with your family. that’s what’s important. we put off so much for tomorrow…but friends tomorrow is not promised. do everything you can today to show your family what they mean to you. now the things that cause me pain taunt me. his clothes. his memory. like a fresh reminder of just what was a waste of time. what we put so much time and value into that in the scheme of life means nothing. now I have clothes, pictures, videos and memories. that’s it. how much time was wasted as he grew up…I was so secure in tomorrow. in the daily grind. I never truly got it. the no guarantees thing. now I get it. but now it’s too late. I get these dumb reminders in forms of clothing and photos of just how much I missed out on. how much I didn’t get it at all. life truly held no REAL meaning til Conner left. don’t mistake, my family and I have meaning…but not the shallowness of the previous…US. we’re different. we value a day. staring at drawers full of memories is a gut check. reality sets in. so much time wasted. spent on unimportant stuff.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. 4 Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (James 1:2-4)

I live by that verse. it flows thru my head many times thru the day. I try to keep telling my heart that this journey is a blessing in disguise. And for all the pain we’re going thru the glory on the other end will be worth it. I know it will. I’m just tired of feeling different. of feeling this constant pain. the anxiety. the tears that still come many times a day, out of left field it seems. I just miss Conner. desperately. I wish I had one more chance with him. Just one more hour…hell I’d take a minute. just to feel him, touch him, breathe him in…love him the way a mother needs to love her child. I wouldn’t waste my time with him, I know whats important now and that’s LOVE. not toys, or parks, or books, or playdates. just loving. embracing always. loving thru it all. love love love…I’d give my life for one more moment to show him what I’ve learned from him. I’m tired of seeing everyone elses smiling faces and I try to keep one on mine…but inside there is no smile. I’m tired of the internal, heavy, permanent sadness. the emptiness. the confusion. this world is turned upside down for me…how in the world can everyone else keep walking like it makes sense? how can they not see all the meaningless things they do? I cringe seeing people treating their children the way I used to….”not now…just a minute…when I’m done….” but….I needed to learn I guess that life can change in just one minute. because it did. I am still haunted by how in one day my life as I knew it was over. I never could understand how this life can be so cruel and take away a child from his mother. a mothers job is to love and nurture…and without a life to love and nurture…what does that leave you? I’m tired of the world thinking that because you have other children that should be enough to help you get thru…truth is that one does not replace another. love for every person in your life is different and each relationship is unique. two living sons does not take away an ounce of the pain of the child long gone…it never can. it’d be the same as saying to someone who just had a leg amputated that they should move on cus they still have another leg. well guess what…that missing leg…that missing child represents the emptiness that only those in our shoes can fully understand. one does not equal the other. but learning now about whats meaningless in this world does make me a better mother to my two living. I hug more than criticize. I kiss more than ignore. I live more than I exist.

I’ve learned to surround myself with people who speak life and not death. I’ve learned you are who you associate with, who you’re friends with. each person in your life is there by your own allowances. your chosing that person. so if that person isn’t a person who will bring you up and speak life and love into your days then what in the world are you chosing for yourself? your family? I’ve learned to keep my inner circle smaller than ever before. not many have access to the full me. In the meaninglessness of this world I’ve also learned that there are many in this world simply living to hurt. to bring darkness and cruelty into lives of others who will allow it. but they’re crafty in their scheme. they know their game well. they lead you to believe they’re one way…then they show you just how wrong you were in trusting them. I never would’ve believed it a year ago. each day I still struggle with believing that others can exist to hurt, destroy and steal others joy. because I’m not that way it’s hard to believe it exists. but it does. keeping my inner circle very small has really helped. there is simply a handful of people who know every single thing about me. who’ve walked side by side with me thru this journey. I guard my heart and I hope you do as well.

see how much my mind wanders these days? what a disaster. I am still waiting for my brain to come back to me. the simplest decisions are so incredibly hard and I have to focus and concentrate so much harder on the simplest of tasks because my mind and heart are already consumed. trying to get my brain to take on anymore than missing Conner and dealing with the pain is impossible. I have to have people repeat themselves over and over. my brain just doesn’t get it. all that’s floating thru my head is conner…and the pain. I wish it’d get easier. but can it really get better? I don’t think it’s possible to get over his death. and I know that I won’t so I am not trying. I’m merely surviving. each day making it out of my house fully clothed and the kids with me is a miracle. you grieve deepest those who you love the most so I will never hurt any less…I believe it will always be there. the pain.

I just miss him.

I hate looking at his clothes hanging up in his closet unworn…

just reminds me how I failed.

I’m tired of this pain.

dearest Connerman…take care of me from the heavens…hold me like you used to, be so close I can feel you…because mommy can’t do this without you…


love love love


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Did You Know....

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There were less than 10,000 deceased organ donors in the US last year. (that's a ratio of 1 organ donor to every 10 transplant patients).

In the time it takes you to shower today, 1 new name is added to the US transplant waiting list.

From the time you woke up this morning to the time you wake up tomorrow morning, 18 people will die waiting for their transplant in the US.

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