For Tess

I can’t imagine the depth of sadness. I can’t sympathize with the ridged hole that forms from losing a parent. Words escape me and I find myself repeating the only thing I know and feel with your news, “I am so sorry.” I wish I could reach out and hug you over the miles we are apart. I wish I could help take the sadness and hurt you feel away, along with the many others who love you so dearly. I feel small in comparison to the sudden change your life’s path has found. So I send you my love and prayers…and my words.

Death is the ultimate finality, a fate no one escapes. The angel approaches, gently lies his hand on your shoulder before calmly whispering, “That’s enough, come with me,” just like that the restless soul finds peace. And we are left to deal with the loss, to process the pain, understand the anger, and fight the heartache. A parent is irreplaceable regardless of how you want to judge that parent. They offer a love that is unique to any other love you feel in your life. They are your champions. They are your guidance. They are the kids sometimes when we must stand up and be the adults. But in the end, they are still a part of you. They were the first to delve into the depths of your heart and carve out their own niche. The holes that echo in the caverns of our heart remain long after they are gone. They leave their mark quite literally on our hearts so that in the moments of stillness they can blow through the hollowed caves reminding you of the joy, the smiles, laughter, tears and love they brought into our lives.

I have posted this poem before, but I think it is fitting for anyone who has lost someone they loved. There is no replacement. I realize a few words are insignificant to the loss and sadness you feel, but with nothing better to offer, and no tangible hug to hold on to, I send you this my friend.

Death Finds Family (modified for a friend)
Something grand is awaiting
It’s time for me to go
Death comes to us all
When? No one knows

We’ll meet again
I know this much is true
This isn’t the end
Of the love I hold for you

He’s calling my name
I’m not sure that I’m ready
It’s time to make the journey, though
Unfinished work now seems petty

I’m scared and I’m frightened
There's no time for goodbyes to you
But He’s taking my hand
And guiding me through

My dear, please don’t cry
Remember the laughter
Know that my love for you
Will remain long after

I’ll be seeing you again
We’ll meet at the pearly gates
For now I must go
And follow my fate

I’ll always love you
And when death comes to your door
Know that I've been waiting
And I'll see you once more

Poor Champ...Again

What a rough couple of weeks. Champ really is a fitting name for our boy because he has been such a trooper. Monday night I came home from my volleyball game to find our Champers lethargic, unresponsive (compared to his normal giddiness), and down right sad. It was late, he was not interested in eating - which anyone who knows Champ knows that is highly suspicious - and to say the least I broke down. I have never seen our pup act this way. It scared me. To top it off, Levi went to workout - unbeknownst to me - and I was freaking out: something was terribly wrong with our dog and at 9:30 at night Levi could not be found.

Champ's behavior improved Tuesday only to take a dramatic and horrible turn for the worse yesterday. He wouldn't eat, was throwing up blood and let's just say that wasn't the only end blood was coming out of. Levi and I did not sleep last night. Every two hours we were up with Champ taking him outside so he could vacate what ever was left in him. We got up this morning and took him in to the vet right away...

Here's the current theory.
After checking a stool sample they said it is a bacterial infection. Champ was on antibiotics after his surgery earlier this month. The vet said that sometimes when you put them on these meds their natural bacteria - the good bacteria - is wiped out and thus allows the bad bacterial to set up shop. Needless to say Champ is back on medications. He is on a special food diet that should settle his tummy to allow him to eat.

Man, I cannot imagine the worry, the angst, the helplessness those of you out there that are parents feel when your little ones are sick. I know Champy is a dog and will not have the lifespan that humans do, but I cannot imagine our life without him. He is our little buddy, he is Aspen's foe (really they love to play with/tease one another) and Butch's best friend.

We are praying that these meds work for Champ and he can be back to his goofy, fun loving self soon.

Farewell for now...

Death sucks. It isn't easy. Loosing Curly this week has caused a lot of emotions from my grandma's death to resurface. There hasn't been a week that's gone by these past six years where I haven't thought of her. Where I have not wished I could have one more dinner or conversation, one more movie or sporting event with her. I feel her presence often. I know she is still with me, watching over me. But the pain and selfishness of not having her in the flesh still hurts.

My grandma was amazing, stronger than I will ever know, compassionate and loving. Grandparents are a treasure. They save the Wednesday kids section of the paper for you even though they won't see you for another week. They make you banana cereal with a cut up banana and sugar because you love bananas. They even find special trinkets or rings that have absolutely no value besides the fact that it made them think of you (and they still give you trinkets when you are 16, 21...). My grandmother carved a niche in my spirit, a hole that can never be filled. There are people in life who carve etchings on your soul, and then there are those people who mold and carve you into a better person. They have the ability to truly make you whole. I am better for having her in my life and for the lessons she taught me, but my soul is still missing a piece because she is gone. I wish that Levi could have known her. I wish that my children could have known the beauty of her love. But life is not always fair. I have learned how to breath with the hollowed holes that loosing a loved one leaves. I pray that my cousins find peace in God's embrace as they deal with the heartache of loosing a beloved grandparent. So farewell for now Curly, we'll meet you again in the presence of His love. Would you say hello to my grandparents for me? Tell them I love them.