Aug 27th

Hey guys - what a sweet community you have been (as usual!).  Thank you for caring and loving and praying and sending sweet words and giving hugs and meals and all the things.

It's been a busy summer - we ended up traveling a good bit.  We went to the beach, went to Chattanooga, Birmingham, Maine and Colorado.  It was helpful and good to get away...thank you that helped us escape Memphis a little here and there.  But it was always good to get home too.

It's weird, it was always good to get home but it's also incredibly painful just driving around the city.  Thoughts will hit me out of nowhere that it's been awhile since I've driven a certain way since not having to take Elle to school or therapy, etc.  Or it'll hit me at a certain time that I should be at a certain place and then I remember.  It all happens in a split second but it is unnerving and can rattle me for awhile after.

Grief looks like so many different things.

Sometimes it's exhaustion. Sometimes it's lying in the bed for 3 hours in the daytime, not sleeping but not doing anything else either.  Sometimes it's sobbing until you can't breathe and you feel like you might vomit.  Sometimes it's stoicism.  Sometimes it's a smile and giggle at a picture, video or memory and/or spending an hour looking through those old pictures/videos.  Sometimes it's the feeling that if you don't move and distract yourself whether it be cleaning up or running in 105 degree heat or just driving, you might lose your mind.  Sometimes it's distracting yourself with a movie, a book or time with friends.  Sometimes it's anger.  Sometimes it's wondering what those silly girls would be like at ages (almost) 9 and 7 ½ if they were disease-free.  It's wondering what they are up to these days in heaven.  It's truly rejoicing that they are there with Jesus and healed but at the exact same time, feeling the very real physical pain of their absence. It is a pain like no other. Sometimes it's embracing and losing myself in the quiet and loneliness and sometimes that quiet can be suffocating.  Etcetera.  Etcetera.

I've been wanting to write here for awhile but just couldn't get myself to even start until today.  I'm sitting at Ann Carlyle's ice skating lessons at 6:00 on a Tuesday evening and thought I'm just going to jump in and see what happens - fully aware that I might write one sentence and slam the laptop shut.  (PS - I know it is Wednesday night...I needed a minute to process it all.)

I wish I had words for all the things that are going on in my heart, my mind, my soul, my body and I just don't.  I think that's one reason I haven't written for so long.

Of course, a lot of people ask us how we are doing and how Ann Carlyle is doing.  And really the most succinct thing I can say is that I feel like most of the time, we are grieving in a healthy way.  I think.  Most of the time.  We still see Angela, our counselor at Milla's House, regularly and Ann Carlyle has seen her counselor a bunch as well.

Ann Carlyle started school a couple of weeks ago and she is loving it.  Thank God for her school and her teachers.  She is keeping busy with ice skating and cheerleading for now...and of course wants to add violin, horseback riding, karate, obstacle course training (like American Ninja Warrior) and dance.  Needless to say, we had to narrow the field a bit!

The other answer I give to how we are doing is a cliche but it's true...we are taking 1 day at a time...one hour at a time some days.  It's something we've been doing for years now, so we know the drill.  It doesn't always make sense, how I feel day to day, but I will say being outside and physical on our trips this summer has been such goodness for my soul.  We enjoyed the ocean, saw whales, did tons of hiking and trail walking, climbed a few mountains, zip-lined, rode on boats on rivers and oceans, rode horses and ATV's through mountains, rafted rivers, did lots of swimming and some kayaking too.  Side note: all of those things except for swimming were done not in Memphis but in places with oceans and mountains and lakes and rivers and in the case of Maine, all of the above.  :)

Even though life feels a bit empty and quiet, I see the Lord's faithfulness and feel Him setting my feet on solid ground.  I have found myself in the mire significantly over the last few months, but He is always showing up...even when I resist His peace and restfulness.  That's what's so crazy...even when I want to stay in the mire, when I actually want to keep drowning, He pulls me out.  Thank God His love for me doesn't depend on my love or mental strength or determination or whatever to pull myself out of the yuk.  And morning by morning...He is there.  His mercies are there.  The pain is also still there and the loss and the absolute grief but again, He's there too.  And that is something really, really, really big.  Life-changing, life-giving, life-saving, life-sustaining big. 

Thank you all for asking after us and caring about how we are doing and for reading this.  :) It means so much to us to know we are still surrounded.

I'm going to wrap up now - I feel a bit ramble-y and to be honest, it's hard to bring all this to the surface and put words to it.  I'm not sure how much I will be writing from now on...might be a lot, might not.  But in any case, I have to say it again. THANK YOU from the bottom of our hearts.

Much love,
Dana
PS - Some of y'all may have heard this already but Frazer broke his collarbone a week and a half ago, had surgery to fix it last week and is doing great.
PPS - I have to include a picture my sister found the other day of me and Milla and Elle.  Elle is fresh.  I think this was our first day home with her.  Milla is 17 months old.  (Ann Carlyle had juuust turned 3 years old, but who's counting.  Our house wasn't utter chaos at all from that point on.  Nope.)  Anyway, I love the picture.  I love Milla's chunky, chunky hand on Elle's back and I love that Elle's eyes are fixed on Milla's even though she is just days old.  I love everything about it.