Sunday, November 27, 2011

It's Gonna Be A Good Life?












Many of you watching the AMA’s with us probably gasped when The Band Perry played, “If I Die Young.” Ouch. That was a hard one, but much harder still for me was “Good Life” by One Republic. All I could think when they sang, “It’s gonna be a good life…” was, "Really? I thought so too, but now I’m not so sure.”



I saw two of my dearest friends the day after the trip. Because they were in town visiting their parents for Thanksgiving, we had the chance to spend significant time together for the first time since Jack’s memorial service. Sitting in a booth at one of our old high school haunts, we looked at each other, eyes filled with tears, shell-shocked and still in disbelief at what has happened. Like other friends, they shared that they wake up each morning and must realize, once again, that Jack is dead.

We discussed the utter improbability that such a thing could have happened to Jack. We went through all of the events that led from having my kids safe and dry in our house, to their looking at a stupid playhouse in a neighbor’s fenced-in backyard, to standing in that yard beside a raging creek. We questioned how Jack, our Jack, was the only child who died in our area during that crazy storm.



Being together, crying together, was draining and wonderful and helpful because these friends, like so many others, love us and realize HOW MUCH we have lost in losing Jack.

These same friends walked beside me many years ago when one minute I had the mom everybody loved and admired, and the next I did not. As they recounted how they found out about Jack’s accident, we were reminded, without saying a word, of those other, dreadful phone calls I made to them when we were all 18 years old.

Over the years, these and other friends have felt the bittersweet tension of sharing life’s joys with me, while at the same time remembering my loss. As they benefited from adult relationships with their mothers-- through college, dating, marriage, babies, baptisms, and birthdays-- they were sometimes unsure of how much to say, knowing that even as I had moved forward and flourished, I would always mourn the loss of what could have been.

I never wanted them to feel uncomfortable or temper their joy, but I appreciated their unspoken acknowledgement-- usually just a caring look-- that showed they knew I was thriving and content despite significant loss. Their news included holiday gatherings, family reunions, multi-generational beach trips, and their children’s special times with grandma. I wanted them to share their news with me even if it hurt, because they were my friends, and I cared.

After my mom died, I was unsure of exactly how to move forward, but I decided early on that a positive life for me would be a testament to her as a mother. I respected myself, made good choices, and tried to live an optimistic, drama-free existence focused on what was important. And, when I was blessed to become Jack and Margaret’s mom, though I keenly missed my mother’s support every step of the way, I knew I would try to parent well, having been so well-parented.

I was sad that my mother and children didn’t get to enjoy each other. And I missed the adult relationship she and I could have had, the one that I saw my cousins and friends experiencing. Even in the poop-riddled, sleep-deprived, whiny throes of parenting babies and toddlers, I already looked forward to being a grandma. Not too soon, as in “My 14 year old just made me a grandma,” but all in good time, to give my adult "kids" the PRESENCE of relationship where I had felt so much absence.

I yearned for the chance to enjoy and support Jack and Margaret in their adulthood, our relationship unfettered by the stress and pressure one experiences while in the trenches of childrearing. I imagined holiday celebrations. Beach trips. Cruises. Enjoying the amazing people my kids had become. Even though Tim and I pinched every penny, I was determined someday to travel with family, as one of my most painful memories is the knowledge that my mom had registered for her first passport in her early forties and never got the chance to use it.

As I sat with these two dear friends Tuesday, I realized that now we had another gulf separating us. A huge, gaping gulf. Not only can they enjoy their dear moms right now, but they will be able to see all (DEAR GOD PLEASE!) of their children reach adulthood. Their children will grow and flourish. Jack will be forever 12. Spunky, spirited Margaret’s young life will be tinged with loss.

My feeble attempt at redeeming early loss by living life well and supporting my children into their adulthood now hangs in tatters.

All those years I tried to put one foot in front of the other and choose JOY because I knew that would honor my mother and God. I smiled. I laughed. I loved. I thrived! And over the years I learned there are many, many things one can and will get through without the help of a mom.

But a child? The precious child who first taught me how to really love?

Now I get up every day and choose LIFE in an attempt to honor this wise, deep-thinking, brown-eyed boy who loved us, loved God, and whose physical absence is like a cannon blast through our little world.

But in the getting up, in the living, sometimes I have to ask, “How much, oh God, how much?”

And Jack’s passport? Sits upstairs in Tim’s office. Not a frickin’ stamp in it.

80 comments:

Kristina P. said...

Oh, man, I forgot that I featured that Snuggie picture on my blog, some time ago. If it's OK, I would like to put it up again, in honor of Jack.

Kelly R said...

Praying for you, everyday. Feeling just a small glimpse of your pain and it overwhelms me. I am so sorry Anna.

Stimey said...

I admire you a great deal for the way you are working so hard to live and to smile for Margaret. Learning how to live a whole new, so much more painful way of life has to be so very difficult. Everything must have new meaning now. You and Jack are on my mind so much these days. I am sending you love every single day.

NancyS said...

May blessings reign upon you and may strength be there to lift you up when you need it. And know that another cares -- someone who also knows what it is like when a word, an image, or a ridiculous platitude strips the sheath from a artfully prepared facade.

Julie said...

I have shared your blog with many. Your beautiful writing makes me feel a sample of what you are going through. I would never attempt to say that I feel your pain, because dear God, I know I don't, but I cry and pray for you an our family.

Thank you for sharing. I know these next few weeks wil be beyond rough...but prayers are surrounding you.

IrishRN07 said...

Tears, hugs and prayers, from someone who admired your mom...and her daughters.

-Maureen

Lisa said...

Words just don't seem like enough here...I know how hard and painful it is to live without my mom. I cannot fathom life without one of my kids. I have prayed for you all weekend...and will continue to lift your family up in prayer.

The Carens Clan said...

Tears came to my eyes the moment The Band Perry came on stage, thinking of you sitting in the audience. My brain cannot wrap around the magnitude of pain you are feeling, but please know there are so many of us crying out to God through the power of prayer to help ease some of it.

mosey (kim) said...

There is NOTHING feeble about your life or how you chose to live it after losing your mother. There is also nothing fair or remotely understandable about why Jack is no longer with you. But that boy was born to an extraordinary mother who chose how to raise him. Just as I think he chose you, to be his mother, for however short a time.

I wish I could hug you. I love you.

Kate Coveny Hood said...

You don't have to write uplifting posts. Your honesty and willingness to share so much of your breaking heart here is an incredible gift everyone who visits. Love you.

Lady Jennie said...

I'm speechless. This is so painful. I wish I could say or do more and that it would actually help.

Anonymous said...

You have had so much pain to deal with in your life Anna and it sucks! No other way to put it.
Sending lots of love and hugs your way.
Always thinking of you Anna...

Laura at Ms. Smartie Pants said...

Oh Anna, I'm once again so very sorry. In all this darkness keep moving toward the light. Just praying for peace for you all.

Anonymous said...

Please, don't beat yourself up for having bad days. Ever. I thank you for your honesty, for sharing just how brutal this is. This grief thing sucks so much. More than anything I wish I could undo your loss. You're doing just fine, take each day as it comes.

Varda said...

Anna, words fail me. You are in my heart.

melissa said...

i run to your blog everyday desperate to hear some news from you that you are ok.....i don't even know you....there are no words to describe how much i am in awe of your strength......i think about you everyday.........

Fiona, LilyfieldLife said...

Hi Anna, please know that so many people are thinking of you and your beautiful family. Life can be so unfair. Jack's legacy through your blog is probably that mothers like me hug their little boys a bit tighter after reading your posts.
Stay strong for your daughter. It must be so hard for her also.
Much love from the opposite side of the world
Fiona

Ellen Stewart (aka Ellie/El/e/Mrs. Seaman) said...

When my friend Vicki was dying last year at 24, she loved that Perry song. Her mother cries to it still, a year later. I cry to it just thinking of it.

I'm glad you get up. I don't know how you do it, but I'm glad you do.

Formerly known as Frau said...

((hugs)) Anna ((hugs))

Marinka said...

Thinking of you and your family. And praying for you every day.

The Empress said...

I thought of you with the song "If I die Young, " and again on Thanksgiving.

WOndered how you'd do, (but knowing...) and praying for you.

Julie B. said...

Every post you write brings me to tears. I don't know what words to ever say here, but I also know that I can't just come and not say anything.

You are an amazingly strong woman and your family is absolutely precious. No words could ever ease the pain you are facing; but God can. I know you know that and cling to that. I pray for your family daily and am just so, so thankful that I have been able to "know" Jack through your blog. What an awesome kid he is!!

Sharon @ Elizabeth & Co. said...

Oh Anna, I thought of you and your family so many times this weekend. No, it's not going to be the good life you imagined and that is so sad. But it will still be a good life. It just has to be!

Anonymous said...

Oh, Anna -- Hugs, thoughts and prayers -- my words are trite, but I ache for you. Mariann Alicea

Dawn said...

No words. Just hugs and more hugs.

Anonymous said...

Yeah, I was gasping at the song....especially because it was right smack after the Biebs. Couldn't believe it and cried while on the treadmill, watching and listening. So sorry you're going through this. It will be a good life in many ways I'm sure, just not nearly as imagined. I'm so sorry for that.

ella said...

Oh, Anna. Your family has been in my thoughts and prayers constantly since the moment I heard of your loss, but never so much as this past week. Your loss is the world's loss. If I could take your pain away for even a second to give you some relief, I would.

I've never met you, but I do love you and your family.

Anonymous said...

I can't even imagine how difficult each day, week, month is for you. I thought about you and your family all weekend knowing that it must have been one of the hardest weekends for you thus far. I am so sorry.

Lindsay said...

Oh, dear Anna, I have been thinking of you, Tim, and Margaret so much this past weekend. I just wish there was something more I could do for you all. I will just keep praying and praying. Hugs all around.

Leslie said...

Anna, I sound like a broken record, but I just can't stop begging God for what He promised in Philippians 4:7 for you, Tim and Margaret. This peace that passes all understanding. I'm sure you can't possibly understand ever knowing peace again - but God said a peace exists that transcends our understanding. I'm begging God to get you all there. I am so, so, so, so sorry.

geri said...

when i read your posts, it is as if you have stepped into my heart and head and put the very words and thoughts and feelings i have had about losing our son down on paper. i am so so so sorry that you lost your sweet jack. i will never understand the unequal distribution of pain and suffering that happens in this world. you have suffered and lost more than your fair share.

Anonymous said...

You're a beautiful writer and person.

Kara said...

My heart is heavy for you. I don't even know what to say, except that I won't stop praying for you. I remembered you during Thanksgiving as I cooked with my family; I lifted you up as we decorated our tree. I don't understand the kind of loss you have been through. It's so confusing, really. I'm so sorry that you, and your family and friends, have suffered such a tragic loss.

Anonymous said...

I do not know you, but I pray for you and Tim and Margaret every single day. This morning, prior to reading your blog, I prayed that, especially during these holidays, God somehow give you the strength to put one foot in front of the other and live even when it feels like you want to just lie down and somehow escape the reality and the pain. Even in your feeling down times that you write about, you are an inspiration because you are so real and everything you share is completely genuine. I hope one day that you do get to a time that you can live happily again. But I hope you also are kind to yourself when you have hard days where you don't feel like being the bigger, inspirational person. I don't know a single person on the face of the planet who could go through what you have gone through and not feel like giving up once in a while. I hope you feel God's strength and comfort around you during those hardest times.

Scary Mommy said...

This took my breath away. I think of you so, so often...

Anonymous said...

Thank you again for sharing so much of yourself with us....and I join the chorus of "don't rebuke yourself for the not uplifting posts".....I admire your honesty and willingness to share so much.

Hugs, prayers, love....

Anonymous said...

thinking of you, Tim and Margaret and of course Jack over the Thanksgiving w/end... Dear Lord, how much is truly right?? Enough already says it all Anna. You're always in my thoughts and praying for your continued strength in the days to come. xo Patty

Suburban Correspondent said...

I totally get this. Different circumstances, but yeah...ironic doesn't even begin to describe it.

And don't forget the line from A Horse and His Boy, when the hermit sends Shasta running after King Lune and Shasta is wondering why the heck he bothered getting across that desert if his only reward was to be told to keep running. Something about..about...I can't remember it. Something along the lines of "Shasta had not yet learned that often, when you have done a hard thing, your reward is to have to do something harder." And all I can say to that (every time I read it) is "Thanks a lot. Maybe I should have slacked off in the first place. Then I wouldn't be facing this new challenge." But really, what choice have we?

BethanyM said...

I am always amazed by your beautiful way of words and conveying emotion with honesty. God is making beauty from ashes through you and helping each person who reads life life more fully. I appreciate how you distinguished from choosing joy to now choosing life. Praying you keep on and for that sweet day when all will be made right.

Debby@Just Breathe said...

Thank you for your posts. You are in my thoughts and prayers each day.

luv2run said...

Hugs from a stranger!!!!!!

Life is hard sometimes but you are shear proof that we can put one foot forward and continue to grow, even with these horrible life circumstances. You amaze and inpire me.

luv2run

Meredith Self said...

Holding so much love for you as you discover the way of thriving and living again. You will.

Love. Love. Love.

Janice said...

I have that cd from the Band Perry on my laptop and my grandkids want to hear it everytime I'm at their house. This weekend was no different; they wanted to hear it the second I brought out the laptop. But this time was different for me.....I thought of you and Jack...........as I listened to my little spiky-haired 4 year old grandson sang the line about make me a rainbow to shine down on my mother; I cried. For you, for what you lost and can never have back here on earth and I hope...I know....Jack is smiling down on you. Peace to you.

Anonymous said...

Anna, you are an amazing person. God loves you and He is with you now, even in your hour of darkest despair. What happened isn't fair and it isn't right, but you are loved. God recognizes that you have an amazing voice and you are an instrument of His will. I wish that that could provide you some comfort but I'm sure it doesn't. But please know that you are making a difference, and in articulating your pain, you provide a refuge for others with similar pain but less clarity of expression.

kimberwidmer said...

I was "talking" with Leslie Barkley today over email and you, your family and Jack came up in the conversation. Grieving is messy business and I'm just sick that you have to experience this every day. I was young when my mom died… but good gracious, not 18. I wish there was something I could do or say to make it better, but I know there isn't. I've often thought about what I've said and hope to goodness it isn't as lame as what Job's friends said to comfort him during his strife. Praying for you as you wade through what should be a joy-filled time of year. You are never out of my thoughts and prayers. Although I've never met you in person, I have been deeply, deeply moved by Jack's life, and by the poetically poignant way you've given voice to your loss.
May God be real to you. May you feel his strong, yet loving grasp on your lives… May you continue to get daily encouragement of how Jack's all-too-short life is continuing to impact this world. Blessings on you, friend.

Anonymous said...

I write this with a lump in my throat, eyes welling up. Scared to even fathom the pain you are experiencing. Yes, it's gonna be a good life. Not what you planned, but you will have pockets of good. Praying for you and your sweet family. I must believe and cling to God's goodness. How to make sense of all of this without that hope......xo,Gina

Kim said...

Thought of you all the time over Thanksgiving and just prayed and prayed and prayed, and prayed some more. Have been feeling very sad for my friends and family who have lost their beloveds this year and how incredibly painful the holiday season is. Will continue to pray and cling to the hope that we see as through a glass dimly, but one day we will SEE face to face.

Brittany said...

Wow. You are a beautiful writer. I can't imagine the pain you're feeling right now, but I watched a close friend go through the same thing a few years ago when her son died in a sledding accident. Her story is here http://mormon.org/searchResults?theme=blue&query=jenny+hess. You may not share the same religion, but it sounds like you share the same faith in a loving God. Sometimes it helps to hear peoples' stories who have experienced similar loss. I am so sorry you have to go through this.

A Speckled Trout said...

The saying, "God doesn't give you more than you can handle" makes me cringe. Absolutely cringe. Like losses and tragedies are doled out based on backbone.

I believe that you will have a good life. That the honor you carry will carry you through the dark days, that the light won't be as bright as when Jack was with you, but one day it will warm your face and give you hope.

Anonymous said...

Oh Anna. The way you are able to share your thoughts, fears, and reminiscences brings me to my knees.

I am glad that those wonderful friends have maintained such strong relationships with you, dear Anna. I am equally glad that you are such a good friend to them. I love that you are all able to be there for each other in ways that bring each other comfort and support. And laughter, I hope, even if it may be through tears.

I continue to think of and to hurt for you and your family daily, but my god, it's so good to know that you are continuing to get up and LIVE. I am honestly floored by your courage... but would honestly expect no less of you.

love,
jbhat

Mariah said...

Anna, thank you for sharing. My friend lost her son on Easter Sunday in a ATV accident. Not a day goes by that I don't think about her, or say a prayer for her. A lot of things you say are the same things she says. And as a matter of fact, she mentioned that same song on FB the other day. I forwarded your blog onto her. I don't know if it will help her, or if she'll even read it. But I just wanted to thank you for sharing. I wish, wish, wish there was something I could do to make it better. God Bless.

Anonymous said...

I know Jack is sending you so much love from Heaven. God bless you.

Julia said...

Your post is grief in black and white eloquent words on paper. I know you are in there...and are still alive...and will be okay. Not the same. But okay. There are surely a lot of happy days ahead for you. I suspect Margaret will be in most of those. I showed my family some of your latest posts and again, I want you to know how far reaching Jack is. His life is counting still.

xoxo, Julia

anymommy said...

Sending you so much love.

Anonymous said...

I lost my dad at 22 and was devastated. I was a daddy's girl and he gave me secure, fatherly love that every child should have. He was an older dad, 51 when I was born, and had health issues so even as a young child I worried about him dying. He always said, "I am you and you are me." That gave me great comfort when he passed, knowing he lived on in me. It doesn't replace the SEPARATION from being with him, but it is comforting to know he is living on, albeit in a different way. I hope in your moments of deep grief, you remember that Jack is living in you and even a missionary through your blog and that life WILL be good. Because YOU are CHOOSING it to be good, no matter how hard that will be at times, you will CHOOSE it. YOU are Jack. Now start planning how you, along with your husband and daughter, will fill up your passports. Take those pinched pennies and get packing. Love and hugs.

wendy said...

I am coming over here from Kristina P's blog.
I am crying right along with you.
Just a year ago Nov. 11, my son died...he was 35, with 3 small children.(he was my second born of 5 children)
Yes, I know the feeling of feeling like a cannon ball ripped through your life.
I am still in pain.
You are in pain.
and I guess....the challenge comes in trying to remember "it,s gonna be a good life".
sometimes, just doesn't feel like it.
Please know I am so sorry , but words seems so "empty" sometimes I think.
Just know, that many many miles away, is another mother who knows that shattered heart.

Anonymous said...

Oh honey, he DID have a good life...just shorter than we all would have wished for. And you will CONTINUE to have a good life, with awesome memories to guide you...and yes, a heavy heart too.

Cassie @ Primitive & Proper said...

like the last commenter said- he had a good life. he was blessed and loved, and part of the perfect family for him. his absence leaves you with a hole, but he did indeed have a good life, so don't forget that. life isn't measured by the places we go and the things we see, but rather hoe much we gave of ourselves and loved.... and even in just 12 years, jack did more of that than many adults ever accomplish.

MaryBeth said...

Praying and crying.

I have the paraphrase of a quote in the back of my Bible.

"mb, not a day goes by that I don't remember that Paul and the boys never met your dad. Jesus"

The girl who shared it had lost her husband at 23. I know that these losses pale in comparison to yours. That said, it has given me much comfort through the years.

He knows our sorrows.

Thank you for sharing your heart!

Jess said...

sending lots of love and good thoughts your way today. it IS gonna be a good life. a good, good life.

Aimee said...

I'm sitting here with tears flowing down my face. Words cannot express my thoughts right now. :( {{{{Sending you big cyber hugs}}}}

Anonymous said...

Indeed, "How much, oh God, how much?" The loss of a son.....

Peg said...

That song gets me everytime.

2 years ago we lost my sister and her husband in a car accident. Two of my nieces live with us (husband and 3 boys).

Sometimes Good Life comes on and I feel better and it helps me get through the day. Other times it jsut makes me wonder how we're all moving forward after such an awful loss.

Each of the "firsts" without them has been really hard. The second time around is marginally better.

I am so sorry for your loss. Jack sounds like he was a great kid.

Reading your posts have made me feel a little less alone. Thanks for sharing.

Jenn said...

For every bad day(s), you will eventually have one ok or good day. Jack would want you to continue to put one foot in front of the other like you did when you're mother died. Not only because you have to for Margaret, but because you still have so much life to experience. I know it's hard to imagine, just like after your mother died, but you will feel happiness again. When you think of Jack, silly things he did or said, or when others speak of him, you will smile and feel happiness.

Loosing my mother when I was younger was very difficult. Mostly when I got older, as I experienced many of my firsts, and she wasn't there with me. I still found happiness in those moments and knew that she was "smiling down on me" and was so proud.

I can't imagine loosing one of my children. It's a pain I hope that I NEVER have to feel. You are an amazing mother, feel no guilt for bad days, tears and sadness. Thank you for sharing your feelings with us. I am praying for you all during this holiday season...the good, bad and ugly. I love you, friend.

DawnGes said...

Love, prayers, tears, hugs, repeat.

Ann Imig said...

I have so much faith in you. Your honesty and contemplation here on your blog and in your life with your friends will help you find your way back to a good life.

Different good, but good. I don't know about "Good Good" but that lyric probably just sounded best with their song anyway :)

I hold that hope for you because I've seen other bereaved parents go through this process and there are always others further down the road saying you will make it. You will.

Keep choosing joy. Keep acknowledging pain. Both are true and not mutually exclusive.

xoxo

Michelle said...

I noticed that you listed the book "A prayer for Owen Meany" as a favorite. I can't remember if the quote from the movie Simon Birch is the same as in the book but this just came to mind as I was thinking about you while reading your post:

"When someone you love dies, you don't lose them all at once. You lose them in pieces over time, like how the mail stops coming..."

Such a hard loss, but I know there will be new chapters of your life that are just waiting to be written. And knowing you (which I wish I did IRL) they are bound to be good. Real good.

In Him.

K A B L O O E Y said...

Heaven for me would involve a lot of travel. Maybe I could be one of those angels who is given missions back on Earth. I think I'd be good at it; maybe I'd get to light down and whisper something in an ear that really needs a steadying message, an urging to hang on, maybe just a tap on the shoulder that turns them around to see the crescent moon or rainbow. Maybe Jack's doing that today. And maybe he'll be my boss someday. He's already taught me more than most bosses I've had.

mgh said...

Oh, Anna. I thought about you all day long... it was raining here. And again I wanted to believe that none of this was real.

Reading this entry reminds me of a gift I gave to Olivia recently... after her first hospitalization.
It was a bracelet that said "Love life. Be brave." But I included a note because I really wished it said "Be brave. Love Life."
Some days even little trials are overwhelming. Some days it takes extreme bravery just to live life, let alone love life.

Praying that you can find the courage to choose joy again.
much love

Anonymous said...

I realize that my story is not your story..so different really, and yet I find comfort in your words...

My father died suddenly of lung cancer when I was 35 weeks pregnant with my first baby. And I felt like my world shattered. I am now pregnant with my third baby, and my love-of-my-life-since-I-was-sixteen husband is battling Leukemia with only a 30% chance of surviving.

I have great friends, but yes, such a rift...too much loss...too much pain...

Ellen said...

Anna, on the day I logged on your blog and found the picture of Jack with the title OUR BELOVED SON, I knew something horrible had happened, but could not imagine what. I was desperate to know what could have possibly happened to your precious son in the short time since you'd posted pictures of his 1st day of the new school year. I was searching all over for reports of an accident involving "Jake" for I had no idea that wasn't his real name. I did know that your last name was Donaldson because you'd once e-mailed me in response to a comment I left.

I finally was able to piece things together from comments left and from other bloggers who alluded to the flooding.

In my search I did find a story that mentioned an 8 yr. old boy who was also tragically lost in the flooding following Irene, I believe in PA. I've wondered if you've made any attempt to contact the family who shares so intimately the realities of that awful night with you, Tim and Margaret.

Ellen said...

My apologies. I meant in the aftermath of tropical storm Lee.

Anonymous said...

Forget me not
My little one
You have left us too soon
Though my body can no longer hold you
I hold you forever in my heart
As precious and beautiful as this flower caught in time
A mother's love does not forget.
~Unknown

Lou said...

anna, this post is brutal, yet so beautiful. the rawness of the love you have for jack, your mom, your friends, marg and tim is so real, powerful, palpable and true. I'm so sorry for the indescribable agony, hurt and suckiness of this all. xo

Marissa said...

This may be inappropriate to say (I'm not always the best at saying things the right way, even when I mean well), but as horrible as it is to have lost both of them way too early, a small piece of me feels as though Jack and your mom are getting to know each other on the other side.

Forgive me if that sounds wrong--but know that I pray for continued strength for you, Tim, and Margaret.

Meredith Self said...

I really enjoyed all the linked mom posts in here!

Anonymous said...

Love and hugs from Australia.

I am reading and I am enjoying your Jack. What a boy. And what a Mum.

I won't forget Jack. I look at my brown eyed 11 year old son, and think of your brown eyed boy.

I look at my brown eyed 9 year old daughter, and think of your brown eyed girl.

xoxo

Heidi said...

I'm so glad you have supportive friends - people who know you and 'get' it. It's important to have that and I'm glad you do.
I think of you often, Anna. You're right, it is a choice. Every freaking day. And it's hard. I can't imagine how hard. My heart goes out to you.

Law Momma said...

Anna...

I don't know what to say. I wish I had something to say. But I come here and I read your words and I pray with you. I pray with you every chance I can... not because you are "living my nightmare" as you once said, but because you are strong and you are beautiful and you deserve every reminder that God loves you now and always. I wish I could just wrap you in my arms and cry with you until we both end up sick to our stomachs... because sometimes you need that kind of cry.

Thinking of you always, even though I have never met you.

PeachPrenni said...

And this one had me crying too. It's not fair. It doesn't make sense. It never will. It's gonna be a good life was supposed to include Jack. I know that; I get it. And I'm not gonna waste time telling you that you have to create a new normal, blah, blah, blah. Right now it just sucks. And it's okay to sit in that as long as you need to. I'm proud of you and I love you.
Annie P.