Last words to Grandpa

Dear Grandpa,

Hey, it's Kate! Oh, how I wish i could be there right now to see you. I am writing this because there are a couple things I want to say. And since I don't know that I will be able to get up there as soon as I want to I figured I would write it in an email. (I actually bought a card earlier today, but then decided not to give "snail mail" a chance either!)

I want to say first that I love you. I love your loud voice that echoes and rings brightly (that you passed along to my father). I love your knack for being able to fix ANYTHING and EVERYTHING. I love that you picked on us over the years and thickened our skin a bit. I love how you'd sit at the end of the table at Christmas dinner and throw rolls and get us all riled up. I love the wrapping paper fights and the laughter. All that laughter - my fondest memories are filled with lots and lots of laughter! I love the way you have swooped in to save and support when I needed it most. I love that you love me and I've never questioned that for a minute.

One thing my daughter Lucy taught me is to not fear death. When the Lord says it is MY time, I will go. And I feel good about being able to say that. When dad told me that you said you were ready to go to heaven last night, I knew everything was going to be okay. (Now, we also know that Grandma Parker said that for years, so you just never know!) I felt compelled to write to you because I needed to tell you at least one more time that I love you.

Now, I feel like I share a special bond with you since we both have lost a baby. I know that was a long time ago for you, but when I consider the fact that we get to see those babies up in heaven one day it warms my heart. If you get there first, please give my Lucy a big hug for me (and maybe teach her how to fix a thing or two).

I always think of you when I eat ham and pineapple pizza - I have no idea why. It just reminds me of you coming to visit us in Charlotte!

Please know you are in my thoughts and my prayers. I love you very, very much.

Love,

Kate

(Letter to Grandpa, written 6/22/12)

...................................................................................

June, me and Grandpa on my wedding day - August 26th, 2006

I just love this picture of Avery (6 months old) with her Great Grandpa Bricker

...........................................................................

My father called me last Thursday night to tell me that he and Grandpa had a "coming to Jesus" talk that night in the hospital. Grandpa said he was ready to go to heaven. Over the last few years he had been diagnosed with a blood disorder, congestive heart failure... and more recently acute leukemia. While he was a truly a fighter, his body was just shutting down. But, what really struck me was that he was ready. Whew, it hit me like a truck. He was READY. It was unsettling to here those words, yet a huge relief swept over me. Saying goodbye isn't as difficult anymore, because my faith in eternal life is steadfast. From here on out I guess I look at it as the grand family reunion waiting for me in heaven.

I emailed the above letter to my dad last Friday at 4:18 p.m. when I realized I probably wouldn't get up to Ohio in time to see my Grandpa Bricker one last time. My dad read this letter to him late that night. The next morning when Dad called me to tell me of Grandpa's passing early Saturday morning he mentioned how ironic it was that one of Grandpa's friends brought ham & pineapple pizza to him Friday night for dinner (he ate it too - an all too appropriate last meal). As Dad sat with him on Friday night, he said Grandpa was in and out of sleep. He was "at a construction site" - asking out loud for brackets & speaking as though he was jimmying parts and pieces together.  He was hard at work... must've been building his ladder to the heavens.

Grandpa was a carpenter by trade and a fixer by nature. When he'd visit our house in Charlotte in more recent years he'd stay up late fixing stuff I didn't even know needed fixing. In fact, he carried around a full tool kit just about everywhere he went. When I think of Grandpa I think of a man who enjoyed going to baseball games and singing a cappella at church. He was a family leader, yet a kid at heart. Oh, and he was pretty bossy. And really loud. When I was in high school (I was a teenage girl - need I say more?) he used to come to the house to see Dad at 7 am and they would stand around the island in the kitchen chit-chatting. From up in my room it sounded as if they were literally right beside me - I used to open the door to my room, scream "BE QUIET!!!!" dramatically and then slam the door of my room. Grandpa would only get louder, I swear. He also used to torment us when we were little with the fact that he lost a finger years before. As kids we were both terrified and intrigued. These memories make me smile.

I had to giggle when I heard that Grandpa wanted to buried in a flannel shirt and a hat. Oh, that's my grandpa. Never wanted to live by anyone else's rules. And what does it matter anyway? We're trading in our casual duds for grand robes in the sky.

I'll miss you Grandpa... I really will. But I have confidence in that family reunion in the heavens.

I'll be seeing ya...

Lucy Love Project : update

So, um, yeah... I am incredibly blown away. Our goal for 200 blankets was reached in TWO DAYS! I repeat - TWO DAYS. This is incredibly awesome and my heart is truly filled to the brim.

And I must apologize, for I guess I under estimated everyone. I feel like I should reprimand some of you for donating far more than the $5 I suggested (I kid, I kid). Yet, how cool is it that people have donated in honor of their children... and losses of their own... and out of the love and care for our family. Lucy only met a handful of people in her life, and unfortunately most of them were doctors and nurses. I wish she could have met all of the awesome people that love her!

I want to say thank you to those of you who have donated to the Lucy Love Project so far. What a testament to how many lives our daughter has touched. We feel so very blessed!

Since we have reached our goal for 200 baby blankets I did go ahead and bump up our goal so that people who have said they still want to donate do not get discouraged. We will do more for the hospital in Lucy's honor as long as the funds are available. We will be using additional money toward clothing (we are working on something special) for the babies in the Neonatal Intensive Care Nursery. We also have a generous donation that will support getting little hearts embroidered on the blankets! I'll share more when I have the details, but I am so excited for the blankets to have a personal touch. :)

Life is just too short to love small.

Thank you for loving BIG with us. Thank you for your generosity and support.

Lucy Love Project

In honor of what would be our daughter Lucy's first birthday on July 19th (one month from today!), we are hosting a fundraiser that will provide blankets to babies in the Neonatal Intensive Care Nursery where Lucy spent most of her short life.

The blanket that we brought home from the hospital is dear to us. We are thankful to have it to hold on to --- not only as a precious memento, but also as a reminder of our time with Lucy. We have specific memories that are tied to our daughter when we see and touch this blanket. Recently I asked one of the coordinators at the Levine Children's Hospital what they were in need of and she said "if you showed up with 200 blankets we would be so very thankful." Since they ideally want new blankets, that is what we intend to provide - soft, new blankets for the babies and their families. You just never know how much something very simple can change someone's life.

If you'd like to support us in our mission, please visit our fundraiser page by clicking below to go to our chip in site:

http://lucyloveproject.chipin.com/lucy-love-blankets
(update: i believe you need flash to view & donate)

Any amount you may be able to contribute is greatly appreciated, but simply $5 will buy one blanket. (In other words, we are not really asking for large single donations, just a lot of little $5 gifts!)

For the first 200 blankets donated, our family will be giving $1 per blanket.

We will wrap up donations on July 5th so that we may place our order in time to have the blankets by Lucy's birthday on July 19th. We are planning to deliver the blankets that week. Feel free to pass this along to friends or family.

The "Lucy Love Project" blankets will be donated
in memory of our little girl

Lucy Isadore
7/19/2011 ~7/25/2011

Thank you.

Avery's THREE!

I can hardly believe it... this little girl is THREE!!!:

Last Friday afternoon we got the birthday weekend started with a cupcake from "Auntie" Hill. Mmm, cupcakes as big as our heads are the best!

We invited some friends over to celebrate with donuts, muffins, breakfast casserole and fruit on Saturday. It turned out pretty well for a last minute affair (oh, yeah... I quickly invited people via text when Avery started asking what we were doing for her birthday party - was NOT very prepared this year). Avery loved having some buddies over, and well, who can pass up a donut? (And, no, I did not bake the donuts! Thank you, Dunkin!)

I bought Avery the below hat in Denver (more on that trip soon), and she won't take it off. I had no idea she would like a hat this much or surely I would have bought her one sooner! Here she is with Nana:

Here's Avery with that birthday donut:

Some of Avery's friends:

(Bryn)

(William)

(Katherine, Logan, Bryn and Finn)

(Logan, Avery and Katherine)

(Bryn and Will sharing the chair)

Avery took her gift-opening very seriously:

Our family shot:

On Sunday, when Avery woke up I told her it was her "official" birthday. She crinkled her nose and asked, "What's a fishy birthday?" Apparently, a fishy birthday is a laid-back family day full of play at the park, yummy food and of course cake after a simple birthday dinner - just the THREE of us.

Avery has played hard all week with her new coloring books, stickers, toys and dolls. Some of her favorite gifts crack me up...

#1 - The "grabber"... #2 - Tinkerbell doll...

#3 - The "surf board" from grandpa and BeeGee...

And, #4 (her ultimate fave) - the safety scissors!

I know it sounds silly, but I keep looking at her and wondering how this little girl is mine. She is the most fun-loving, sweet, gentle, smart, angelic, yet sassy (and sometimes WAY sassy) little girl. I am so thankful to get to cuddle her every night before bed. I always want to remember these days since they won't last forever. These fun days when I can pull her into my lap, kiss her boo-boos, tickle her belly, listen to her sing at the top of her lungs --- and she can enjoy life full throttle without the notion of the standards the world will start to set for her. Before bed I told her the reasons I loved her, "I love you because your kind... I love you because you think of others... I love you because you cuddle with me." She said back to me, "I love you because I love your nose." I'm still laughing out loud. Seriously?

I also told Avery that she was my little sweetie and she said, "Lucy is my little sweetie." It made me think about how much I wish Avery had her little sister here to celebrate with. I couldn't help myself from staring at two sisters playing at the park the other day and just wondering what Avery and Lucy would be doing together at this point. I'm very glad Avery mentions her like she does.

We were glad to have this fun birthday weekend to remind us what life is really about - family, friends and enjoying the simple things. Things like donuts, cool hats and gifts are just some of the little "extras" that sure made Avery's birthday special and fun this year. :)

The music of ACCEPTANCE

Ever find yourself just singing because it feels GOOD? You just feel comfortable and at ease in a moment and can sing out loud happily?

I used to be that person who sings all the time. While I'm in the shower, or tasking about the house... in my car, and in my head. In high school I was in chorus and show choir, performing on stage in front of people. I loved to be in the spotlight. My family used to sing on road trips. I've pretty much been surrounded by music my entire life and it always has come very easy to me.

I recently realized that after Lucy's death last summer I stopped listening to music as much, and I stopped singing. I especially stopped the mindless, happy singing. Even the humming had ceased. You know what made me realize that? Listening to my daughter sing her heart out. She does the "happy sing" thing that I LOVE. She just hums and bobs her head all the time, no matter what she is doing. If you say the word "nobody" in conversation, she will instantaneously bust out the Avett Brothers "Nobody knows what lies behind... the days before the day we die..." lyrics. Appropriate lyrics for an almost-three-year-old? Probably not. But I find it intriguing that she knows these lyrics and seems to sing them when I need them.

Over lunch with friends one day, Avery started singing "Lucy in the Sky" and one of the girls sitting near by (who didn't know about Lucy) said - "How cute, she's singing 'Lucy in the Sky!'" I just had to tell her about our Lucy - that song means so much to us, and it's more than just lyrics. I wanted Avery to know it's ok to talk about Lucy - even with people we don't know so well. The psychedelic daze of "Lucy in the Sky" kind of describes what portions of the last year have felt like in a way, too. Thinking back to even a couple months ago can be so trippy. Of course, Avery has the habit of inserting other words into songs when she wants, and I have overheard her singing "Lucy in the Sky... with angels." She just sings, she has no idea how these things affect me. I worry about what others will think sometimes, but from here on out, we will just be... different. And different can be special. I'm finally at a place where I find being different a more welcome commodity.

One of the things I loved to do with Avery when she was teeny was to dance around our family holding her and singing. I'm sad I was never able to do that with Lucy. One night a couple weeks ago, I was driving at night and I just felt Lucy's presence. And I just started SINGING. I sang out loud to Lucy hoping she could hear me. I wanted to just hold her, but I couldn't. I wanted to rock her to sleep, but I couldn't... so I just sang. And then an (albeit sad) sense of acceptance washed over me. I know she is safe. I know she is fine. It's just tough... me here on earth missing her.

I talk to Lucy all day long, in my mind and in my heart. It's actually kind of comforting knowing that I not only have my Jesus to talk to at every moment of every day, but I have my Lucy too. I sometimes even feel that I have an unspoken confidence I wear because of her constant presence in my life. I want to make both of my little girls proud.

I never knew I could do what I've done in the last year... If someone told me a year ago that I would lose my baby, I would have looked at them and said "I WILL NOT MAKE IT THROUGH." Now I've not only lost a baby, but I've reached a point where I can be "ok" with the sadness that lingers. I never want anyone else ever to go through what we have gone through. The grief, the pain - no, no one should ever have to go through it. But they will. I'm sure I've mentioned it before... the emotional impact of going back to Lucy's grave and seeing a new gravesite near her headstone is wrenching. To know that those parents are where we were months ago is just so sad. All they want to do is close the curtain and hide away for a bit, but there is a spotlight shining on them.

Remember that spotlight that I loved so much in high school? Well, when Lucy died I was thrust into a different kind of spotlight, and it was against my will. At the time, a client of mine who had been through something similar told me that people would be looking to me to see how I handled things - that people would just naturally look to me to see what I was made of.  I started realizing that people were talking about our family (even in nice ways), and I was SCARED. I didn't want to be in the spotlight and I guess I had a serious case of stage fright. I opened my mouth to "sing" and nothing came out. I had to dig very, very deep. I still have to.

I don't know what others see in me. Some say they want my kind of faith, and to those people I say, "you can have it - it's always available." It doesn't have to take a sad and traumatic event to get you there. This experience has allowed me to sit back and let God take the reigns a lot more than I ever have before, but that doesn't mean it's easy. I don't think it's supposed to be easy. Without the challenges life brings us we may not feel as much need for God, and we wouldn't have to rely on our faith.

As I get to a point of acceptance in my life, I've been trying to add that music back in. Music allows tears, and it allows unabashed happiness, too. It allows you to express yourself. I think I've been frightened of the emotions that come with putting all that back in my life. I've been suppressing the pain, or been feeling guilty of the smiles. In the car, 9 times out of 10 I was listening to pure silence. If I flipped on the radio, there was a chance I'd lose it. A word or tune could release the emotional floodgates. Or, even the "normalcy" I could hear would enrage me. Yet I'm finding that when I let my emotions go a little bit, even when it surprises or embarrasses me, there is healing.

Singing takes some effort now. It's not something that comes so naturally for me anymore, and I can be self-conscious. But, I've found myself humming tunes aloud, and it feels warm and familiar. I will allow myself to sing. I will allow myself to heal. And maybe, in a way, my writing has served as a way for me to pull back that dusty curtain back and give the performance of a lifetime... by simply sharing a piece of my soul with you. It just wasn't the final performance I set out for in the beginning.