rambling thoughts...

If there is anything I have learned about grief, it is that it is constantly changing. Everyday is something different.

The last two months we have taken a lot of necessary time to just "be". It has been really good for me. I wouldn't say it has been healing...but it has been good for me to process my thoughts and feelings, and just take time to think without distractions that we had been using the previous months. Healing is a funny word when talking about grief. Healing to me, has always meant something damaged returning to normal function. That is something that I believe will never happen for me. Nor, do I want it to. Really, how could my life ever return to what it was before. I believe we are slowly creating a new normal for our life, and for our family, but it will never (at least in this life), be the type of normal that most people have, and that I once had.

I envy the mother with my old problems. I envy the blissful mother at the park. I see pictures of myself, even from 7 months ago, when we were in the thick of it, and I envy that girl with the two beautiful daughter by her side. Her eyes were different, and joy-filled.

I have changed. My heart has changed. My testimony has changed. My perspective has changed. I have changed physically. A friend that I have made, that never knew Ruby, saw a video of us from the summer, and made the comment that I that I was a different person then. I was driving when I listened to the message, and I had to pull over, because what she said hit me so hard, because it was so true.

As I write this, I am realizing a lot about what I have been going through these past couple of months. Not only has my life been turned upside down, but my whole self as well. I am trying to figure myself out. I am not sure where I fit in. I am not sure how I will react to certain situations. My friends have taken on different roles. Some people have slowly shied away from us, and the unexpected have stepped up and become like family.

A year ago I was a totally different person than I am today. And that is a lot to process and figure out in such a short amount of time.

I know that the pain will lessen. But, Ruby will always be physically missing in our family, and nothing will ever take her place, nor should it. I have faith that our new normal will be created eventually, and we will find our new way though this life. It just takes time, so time is what we are taking.

"In our song"

Kate talks about her Ruby everyday. I love it. She has such a sweet relationship with her sister, even still.
As we walked out the door yesterday to go to "Ruby's Place", Kate said she wanted to make a card for her sister.

She worked very hard the whole way there, and then when we got there, she dictated to Matt what she wanted the card to say. It was such a sweet memory, that I hope I will never forget.
Kate loves her little sister so much, and nothing will change that.



"Dear Ruby,
I love you once a time. We love you because you are just a Ruby girl! We love your because we are family. We love you Ruby, because we are an eternal family. We love your because you are in our song.
Love,
Kate"

Pieced Together

We spent a good part of June at home with our little family. We loved to be outside, and spent a lot of our free time gardening our little backyard. I remember a particular day, we had all gone to Lowe's, and picked out a bunch of plants and flowers as a family of 4. We then spent the afternoon making our yard look beautiful. Kate was going in and out of the house, and Ruby sat contently in her bouncy seat with the sun warming her little body. Each time we passed a certain tree, a hummingbird would frantically fly out, almost piercing us on its away to freedom. After about 6 or 7 times, I suspected there was a nest, and found one on the lowest branch. From then on, we tried to never go under the branch, as to not scare her. She worked right above us, as we each labored in the sun that day, nesting in our own ways.

The following days, as I bathed Ruby in the sick in the morning, and vacuumed, and changed diapers, and went about my busy mommy life, I watched out the window for busy little bird mama bringing bits and pieces back to her nest to prepare it for her babies. I couldn't help but think we were similar. Each consumed by our motherly instincts, and working hard, all the day long.

We had to go the hospital for a couple of weeks, and when we were able to bring Ruby home, the first thing we did was check to see if there were eggs. There were two teeny tiny white eggs. And a very protective mama!


Again, a hospital visit, and then we returned home to find two tiny little hummingbirds. It was so amazing to watch this whole process happen before our eyes. I had never seen anything like it.

We noticed after the days went on, the mama was gradually getting pushed out of the nest, as her babies grew. And one day, she was completely out of the nest, but only a few inches away from them. And soon enough, the mama was just watching her babies from a nearby branch Giving them room to grow, and a chance to fly. The bigger of the two hummingbirds was strong, and brave, and spent most that day on the branch, out of the nest. And then it was gone.


Later that afternoon, I had Ruby in her sling on me, and I noticed the littlest baby was no longer in the nest, but far up the branch. I grabbed my camera, and we rushed outside to say goodbye to our last little hummingbird.

We watched and watched, as the baby looked all around. It was almost as if it was trying to talk itself into taking flight. We watched for about 5 minutes, until the hummingbird flew right off the branch, out of the tree, and out into the world.


I couldn't help but get emotional watching this happen.

When it was just the three of us that returned to our dusty home in August, I spent a lot of time outside, on our swing. The nest was still there. Perfectly intact. So much had changed. So much had been taken away, but the nest, and the memories of our summer, and our own little baby were still there. Built so strongly, and pieced together, bit by loving bit.