To My David.

When I first met you, I didn't know how much you would change my life. I looked at you through child's eyes. Innocent and naive. I gazed endlessly at your tiny perfect features and breathed you in deeply. That sweet clean scent of newness. Unadulterated, moist and brimming with the feeling that anything was possible. I promised I would take care of you, that I would love you and protect you. You didn't understand my words but you grasped my finger with your tiny hand, and I knew you believed my tender touch. Instantly and without hesitation, you were my everything.

I didn't deserve you. You were too good and too happy and too forgiving of a girl who was grappling with motherhood for the first time. When I was frustrated, you would climb into my lap, nuzzle into me, reach up and stroke my hair and your warmness made me feel safe. How was that possible? You, a child, toddling around and learning about the world, making me feel safe? But you did.

You gave me so much more than I could ever give you. You gave me laughter. That giggling laughter of yours was so infectious. And honest. It was a laugh that completely embodied happiness. The kind that when I heard it, it made me smile from deep within. I close my eyes and I concentrate and I can hear it. It's right there, and I see your face with those gleaming eyes and bright smile. I haven't forgotten.

You gave me pride. Such an old soul in such a young boy doing the things you knew were right. How did you do that? I still think of you in wonderment and am amazed at you. Did I tell you how proud of you I was? There are so many things I wish I could tell you now.

I want to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry that I couldn't save you. I want to tell you that I have not been happy since the day you left me. That I blamed myself. That I still blame myself for all of it. I'm sorry that it was you and not me. If it had been me, your Dad would be happy. Life would be good. Oh, there would have been a few somber years. But not like this. Not an unending barrage of sadness, of pain. Not the sadness that I still see in his eyes even when he smiles. Do you know how much he loves you, David?

It is hard to imagine life has gone on without David for nine long years now. It was nine years ago this day that I held my long string-bean boy and tried to memorize his every feature, to burn it into my brain and heart so I would not, could not forget. It was on this day that I stroked his short, thick, brown hair and told him how much I loved him and how sorry I was that I could not save him. It was on this day that I watched him take his last breath. That moment has forever changed me.

I make a conscious decision to not think about this day... this horrible, horrible day...but for one week of the year. I relive it in moments that come over me in waves of panic and nausea. I eat little and sleep less and am relieved when March 9 is over.

It is hard not to live in the past when your own child dies. There are constant what-ifs and what could have beens. There is guilt for not doing more for David when he was alive and then a heavy-handed judgment for those who lack appreciation for the children that they do have. There is self-pity and self-loathing. Regret and anguish.

What I want to say to all of you now is cherish the ones you love. Tell them you love them. Treat them right. If you have disagreements, resolve them. If you have hardness in your heart towards someone, soften it. Be kind to others.

I am so envious of all of you that have all of your children. You cannot know how fortunate you are.

I had to totally smile to myself the other day while in TJMaxx. And not just because I was in TJMaxx --the best place to lose four hours and come out with a 4.99 rubber spatula and a pair of .99 tights all the while feeling absolutely thrilled with your purchase and your wise use of time (throw a Starbucks coffee into the equation and well, you've got yourself a little slice of heaven).

A raucous group of women had converged between the clearance items and the the bedding items (oh, you TJMaxxers know of where I speak ) and were just carrying on....really having FUN. Laughing, joking, tossing items, making crude comments, did I mention laughing....loudly....and from their bellies? I think one of them may have peed their pants. I'm not certain, but she had that, oh crap this is funnier than I anticipated look on her face. And her legs were crossed unusually tight. In a sort of bent over stance. You get the picture.

They were getting disapproving looks from other shoppers, especially the ones who were trying to set a good example for their small children. Oh and old ladies too. But I just grinned from ear to ear. I may have even let out a chuckle.. It reminded me so much of the times my sisters (and sometimes brothers) and I have gone shopping and been completely out of control. And I think that's why I smiled so hard. Because it reminded me of how grateful I am for my sisters and brothers.

We don't always get along perfectly. There have been plenty of times when I haven't spoken to one (or more) of my siblings. It usually lasts for a few weeks (months) and then we get over it. But I know that any one of my siblings would give their left arm leg hand foot pinky to one of us if we needed it. When push comes to shove, I'm certain that there is nobody that would have my back like my sibs.

Webcam, webcam on the wall, who's the wrinkliest of them all?

Do we really need a mirror image on the webcam? While talking to my sibs a few nights ago, I was completely distracted by my own picture.

Not a good thing.

It turned into a game of --let's see how many wrinkles I can make disappear while pulling on my face in twelve gazillion different directions. Gah. Botox here I come. Really, what's a little botulism going to hurt? ::shrugs::

2010

Part of our morning ritual is to watch some of the Today Show. Noah nestles into his bowl of oatmeal or other gourmet cereal du jour and I cradle my cup of coffee, now splashed with soymilk as I am trying, trying to be a vegan. If it doesn't kill me, Woody will. or Noah. Take your pick. Neither of them are thrilled about or even mildly interested in leading a healthier, more focused life. Seriously? Yes, seriously. I even played on Noah's soft heart towards animals (he gets upset over dead possums on the road people); sadly, he still practically hummmmmms when he is eating a Baconator from Wendy's. This, he decides, is what he wants as a reward for getting all A's on his report card for the semester. It nearly killed me to do it. The seedy looking teenager gentleman at the window had to practically pry my debit card from my fingers.

I digress. Back to the Today Show. Right during my daily mental note of HATING Ann Curry (...ok maybe not HATE, but seriously I cannot stand the woman. I don't know what it is about her but she totally grates on my nerves. I think maybe it's her dramatic way of getting all emotional at every possible opportunity and then expounding on her philosophies of life...very emotionally. and dramatically. It totally goes against how I was raised. My family didn't "do" emotion. Every fiber of my being wills Mat Lauer to reach over and slap some serious sense into her. I'm still waiting...And when it happens you can thank me.) I was contemplating the piece they were doing about a group of young guys that started their own bucket list and drive around in a van and help others accomplish something that they've wanted to do. One really touching act they performed was helping a man reconnect with his son after a lifetime. It has all culminated into a show on MTV for them called "The Buried Life".

So I started pondering about some of things that I wanted to accomplish...maybe not in my lifetime, but at least in 2010. Baby steps people. Baby steps.

So, I decided to make a list of things I want to accomplish in 2010.

1. Run a 5K
2. Take a photography class
3. Honor my dedication to God by going out in service more
4. Visit Europe with Woody and Noah
5. Drive in Europe
6. Reconnect with old friends in a deeper way than Facebook
7. Learn to surf
8. Learn to ski
9. Start a compost pile
10. Plant my own vegetable garden
11. Start back to college
12. Whiten my teeth
13. Unpack all boxes from our move (including those in the attic) eeks.
14. Do something unexpectedly nice for someone at least twice a month

Well, that's it. More to come if I get all this accomplished. But don't hold your breath. There's always 2011.

Gomer Pyle-- meet my husband.

I love my husband. Truly, truly love him. But he is not what you would call a romantic soul. His idea of a romantic night is the typical dinner and a movie. probably a macho film. you know. blood, guns, angry men or monsters, maybe dramatic hard rock thrown in for good measure...God love him. I've come to expect it and I take comfort in the safety of his unchanging ways; pleasure in the steady rhythms of our relationship. I quit looking for love notes on the mirror or presents on unexpected occasions years ago. He doesn't work that way. It's enough for him to rub my back when it hurts and make sure the coffee is made and hot in the carafe for when I wake up. Or how he works long, long hours. Or how he takes a moment out of his day to text me to tell me to have a good day. So imagine my great surprise when he composed this little poem. So surprised really (I could hear Gomer Pyle in my head "well, surprise, surprise") that when I read it I actually had the nerve to ask him where he found it. ....And he wasn't upset even when Noah googled it to be sure it was authentic. In fact, he pointed out a misspelled word for him and then quietly smiled and said he loved me. What a good man.

Live with me; so I can

look at you every day.

Stay with me; so I have

something to look forward to each day

Love me; so my life is

complete

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