Public Service Announcement

When I come in contact with people I don't really know that well, but kind of know, the most common question I get is "are you doing okay?" (and usually there is a head tilt involved).  It is really difficult to quantify the word okay.  I get up in the morning and get showered and dressed.  I get my kids fed breakfast and dressed.  I do something every day out of the house.  The last time I remember NOT wanting to get out of bed was way back in December when the grief was so overwhelming that I didn't want to face the day.

On the flip side of this, there are people I see who know what happened to me and my family and never say a word.  I understand that there are no words to say that are easy, but just say something to let me know that you still think of me--that makes me feel like Norah is not forgotten.  Today I ran into a parent of some former students at Target.  I run into her around town every now and again.  She was so gracious.  One of the first things she said to me was how sorry she was to hear about our loss and how she hasn't stopped praying for us.  She lost her father not too long ago and I acknowledged that loss.  We both agreed that each day is such a gift.  We never know what is going to happen to us when we wake up or how we will fare by the time the sun sets.   Tears filled my eyes today--it doesn't happen every day anymore, but when it does, it reminds me that I am still human and am grieving.

I hope I am not portraying a picture of myself as a depressed, bereaved parent who lies around the house all day and cries and doesn't do much else.  I started writing on this blog as a way of expressing my honest feelings about what it is like to lose a child.  I am still grieving the loss of Norah and the loss of what it would be like to have three children.  I don't think there is a time table on when you should get over it.  In fact I will never, ever get over it.  Because Norah will always be my daughter, and I am not afraid of talking about her or crying over her or praying for strength to get through each day without her. 

Greg and I cleaned out the garage yesterday.  There were so many baby seats in there--2 swings, a bouncy seat, 2 carseats, a high chair, etc.  All of it has been lent out over time and just ended up in there.  I felt like I was facing this reality once again.  What do I do with all the seats?  Should we sell them?  How long will they have to sit and accumulate more dust?  The hard thing is I don't have answers to those questions right now because I don't know what my future holds on earth.  It breaks my heart to think that maybe those seats will never get used again....  It is not in my control.  I can only pray that God grows our family in the way He has planned for us.

I know that my story has changed.  I am a different person than I was 6 months ago.  I feel like I want to just get rid of everything that defined me pre-Norah.  I want new clothes and want to ditch everything that reminds me of that life from last summer that doesn't even seem like mine anymore.  I got my hair cut last week and told her to just do something different.  Here is what I left with--I look in the mirror and it doesn't seem like "me" but maybe I needed a new "me."

So, this is my public service announcement to all you readers out there.  I am doing okay.  Time  (and God) has started to heal the giant hole in my heart.  I am looking forward to a fun summer with my two beautiful children but aching just a little (maybe a lot) to be carrying Norah along with us...