Always I will remember . . .

 

Today it’s been three years since this beautiful angel was called to her heavenly home. I still miss her every day, even though I know she lives on and, more importantly, watches over us. I can’t wait for the day when I get to see her again.

Love and miss you, Ashley!

I would say happy angelversary, but I don’t tend to think that the day you left us is an occasion to celebrate. More like a reason to reflect, remember and cherish.

In Memorium

It was one year ago today that our beautiful angel was taken home to her Father in Heaven. It was a relief at the time to know her suffering was over and she could finally be at peace, but man did it hurt to know she was gone, that we wouldn't see her in this life again.

One year later, well, it still hurts to know that she's gone. The hole is still there, and nothing can ever fill it. I was talking about this with a good friend just a few weeks ago. We were talking about the fact that you don't ever really get over losing someone you love, but you just get stronger so you can bear it. And that's what has really happened to me this year.

Grief comes in waves and at different times. And sometimes it's surprising what brings it on. Like last summer when I was sorting through some papers and found a picture she drew of me, complete with earrings. I cried over that. Later, after my actual move when I was unpacking a box one day, I came across the Willow Tree figure a dear friend and her mother gave me after Ashley's passing. It's called "Always I will remember." I was struck again at how kind it was for them to do that, and then it hit me that she would never be coming to see my new place. I could never make memories with her here, and that brought on a whole new round of grief that I wasn't really prepared for. But I dealt with it, just as I've dealt with everything else this year.

Although I feel sad and broken inside just now, I also want you all to know that I know without a shadow of a doubt that although Ashley is no longer here on the earth, she is not gone. That has been made very clear to me in the last year. I have felt her near at different times, and I know she watches over us. She's been at key family events the same as she would've been had she not died. She's just shown her love and support in a different way. How touching and merciful of our Father in Heaven to allow her to do that.

Lest I end this post on a sad note and leave everyone depressed, I'm going to put happy things in here too. I dedicate this post to my beautiful niece, Ashley Marie Winn, in memory of the way she touched so many lives in just a short space of time. I dedicate it to her beautiful smile, to her ability to love, to how she loved to have fun, to her cute dancing, to her ability to endure the trials of her mortal life. I dedicate it to her delightful sass, to her intelligence and to everything that made her Ashley. Her life may have been short, but it was very well lived. And I'm still banking on the day when I can see her again, take her into my arms and tell her just how much I love her!

Just missing Ashley

I'm sorry everyone, but tonight's entry is going to be a sad one. I have several others that I'm still planning to write (including one about Central Park), but I'm not feeling any of them tonight, so please bear with me as I release a little bit of the emotion pent up inside of me.

I have to be honest--I've been struggling a lot lately. I felt like I was on the path to recovery, and my life has certainly been quite busy. To the casual observer everything appears to be fine. And if you asked, I would probably tell you that it is.

But in truth I would most likely be lying because I'm not fine just now. I will be, of course, but right now I'm not.

I can't say exactly what triggered this rush of emotion (although I have a few suspects), but I've been missing our beautiful angel a lot lately. I've been trying hard to keep it under control, to deal with it and not burden anybody with my grief. I didn't want to talk about it because I wasn't sure exactly what I felt inside so I couldn't very well put it into words for someone else. But I should be smarter than that because trying to keep it inside doesn't really work for me and really just exacerbates the problem.

Which leaves me where I'm at right now--feeling broken and miserable inside. And missing Ashley almost as much as I did right after she died. I was so sad this morning that I didn't want to go to work. I wanted to call in depressed, but I knew that wouldn't really help me, so I made myself get up, get ready and go to work. And I put on my work face, hoping nobody would notice. I even laughed and giggled about some silly things. But inside I hurt fiercely. And tonight the dam broke so I could finally let it all out.

I guess it's just another layer of grief that's surfacing. I'm sure that's going to happen more over the next few weeks, months and even years. And I know that I'm not alone in my grief. Tonight I read my wonderful sister's last blog post, and she talked about how she misses her every hour of every day. But she was her mom after all, so she's entitled to miss her. I hope that it gets a little easier over time, even if the hole never goes away.

In the meantime I'm just going to pray hard to make it through this latest bout of grief.

Just in case I haven't depressed you enough, I'm going to include some pictures of things I miss about my Miss Sassypants.

I miss the sass and silliness that characterized her.

I miss her visits to Salt Lake City (even if she was going to see her cardiologist) when I got to meet up with her, and whichever family members came, for lunch. I will always treasure those times, especially now. Or when we got to do fun stuff like get ice cream. Oh, and I also miss her happy smile.

I miss how playful she always was, doing silly things to make everyone laugh. And I miss having her at my house.

And, I'm sorry because this may be a tearjerker, but I miss how much she loved me. You could bask in the warmth that always came from Ashley's heart. She cared about everyone around her so much and was always looking out for your well being. Even a night or two before she died when she was so sick, she was still asking her mom if she had enough blankets and pillows. She was and still is our beautiful angel.

I know you're not gone, but I sure do miss you. I hope you are not only resting in peace but also doing great work on the other side with other family members who are already in heaven. I'm still waiting for the day when I get to see you again! Love you!

Remembering those we've loved and lost

Happy Memorial Day everyone! I hope you have all had a wonderful kickoff to the summer vacation season, which is part of what this weekend is all about.

But I don't want to use this post to talk about vacations; instead, I'd like to talk about the real reason we celebrate Memorial Day: to remember out loved ones who have died. You all know that loss of a loved one has been on my mind for the past little while because of what my family and I have been through, but today was a good reminder of other loved ones who've gone before.

Since we knew today was going to be a fairly busy day, my family made our rounds of the four cemeteries in our area (apparently there's one more I didn't know about, but oh well. We don't have any family buried there and it's way out in the country, so I don't feel bad that we didn't visit) last night. It was a pretty great experience.

Our first visit: the cemetery in my tiny Idaho hometown. In my opinion, I think this is the best maintained of the four cemeteries. They really do a great job with it. This cemetery is the final resting place for my beautiful niece. Since her passing was so recent, I was concerned that visiting her grave might be hard, but it was okay. See the beautiful flowers my sister and my niece's best friend placed on the grave? She doesn't have a headstone yet, but we still know right where she is.

My niece is buried next to my grandfather who actually died almost 18 years ago. Part of me can't believe it's been that long since he died, but time does pass quickly. This is his headstone. Thinking about my niece and how much her loss still hurts at times made me reflect on my grandpa too and how sad we all were when he died rather unexpectedly. He was a wonderful man, and I'm sure he's doing great work on the other side now. I was glad to remember his wisdom and the legacy he left behind.

I don't have photos to include but we also visited the graves of my niece who was stillborn, my great aunt and uncle, a couple sets of great-grandparents, my grandpa on my dad's side of the family and my uncle who died 14 years ago. Each of these losses did impact my life, even if I didn't know the person (such as my great-grandparents who died long before I was born) in that they taught someone I loved who has in turn passed their wisdom on to me.

This one isn't a family member, but she was a family friend. She taught at the same school my father teaches at for many years. In fact, she was teaching at the time she died. I think she was even my younger brother's teacher at one point. She died very suddenly and unexpectedly two years ago. I was thinking about her daughter and husband, whom I'm sure still miss her very much. I don't have a picture of this either, but I also visited the grave of one of my best friend's mothers who also died before her time. This friend and her husband stopped by to visit on Sunday, and it just made me think about the hole her mother's death left in her life which can never be filled. Her mother also left her a wonderful legacy and example.

I hope I haven't depressed all of you with this entry. It's not just about death and losing loved ones; my intention is to instead remember those who have impacted my life and to honor them for that.

Someone told me either right before or soon after my niece died that you never get over losing someone you love. At the time I found it to be a depressing statement and was disinclined to believe them. However, as time has passed, and I have felt the pain of loss so keenly, I can understand what they were trying to tell me. Nothing can ever fill the hole that person leaves when they die, and it's likely we will mourn that person for the rest of our mortal lives. But, it's our job to try to remember that person as best we can, learn from the example they set for us and keep the hope alive in our hearts that we will see them again. Healing from death doesn't mean forgetting; it means finding a way to cope and moving forward. I'm glad Memorial Day could remind me of that.

Harder than I would have thought

Do you remember the feeling when you receive some type of wound, whether it be a scraped knee or elbow to a gash on your forehead, and how much it hurts at first? Depending on how severe it is, you may feel the pain for a few hours to a few days. It all depends on how much time it takes said wound to scab over so it doesn't hurt so much and can start healing.

Right now that is exactly the way I feel. I did okay over the weekend, save for some pretty serious exhaustion, but after I got home last night I really started feeling the loss of our beautiful angel. I started thinking about everything that I loved about her, particularly the sparkle in her eyes and her happy smile (both of which were missing from the body we buried yesterday), and I began to really miss it. The thought that I won't ever see it again in this life makes me feel like all the air has been squeezed from my chest, and I can't breathe properly. Inevitably this is followed by a fresh bout of tears, no matter how recently it's been since I cried.

In many ways, I feel like my heart is broken and may never mend again. I KNOW this is not the case, that it's just grief for the loss that I feel, but it's hard, so much harder than I could have imagined it would be. And the hard part is that it doesn't stop. Throughout the day, little things will remind me of Ashley, and I find myself struggling not to cry. Today it was the origin of a company that just about set me off: it was founded the same year she was born, and that made me sad all over again. I know it's silly, but I can't help it.

I just had the opportunity to say good-bye to her this weekend and to attend a wonderful service in her honor, but in many ways I feel worse now than I did before. I don't know if it was because I had steeled myself for all of that or if I was given strength to make it through, but somehow I did. Now I'm left to struggle through the emotions left behind.

I know that my grief won't last forever, which is why I'm holding out hope for when things start to get a little easier, when I don't feel so sad all the time. I know the loss is fresh and vibrant right now, but it won't always be that way.

The kicker is that I have felt the Comforter so strongly in the last week, more so than I think I've ever felt it before. (Hmmm, I'm sure that has nothing to do with all the people who are praying for my family and me during this time.) I know that I am not alone and in many ways I am at peace. But even that warm feeling can't take away the sadness that I feel. I'm just trying to work through it so it won't overwhelm me. Eventually it will get easier. Eventually those memories that cause me sadness and tears right now will be something that will bring me comfort, just like the DVD my wonderful brother and sister-in-law made.

Until then I'll be waiting for the gaping wound I feel right now to scab over so it's less painful.

My Heart is Touched

It never ceases to amaze me how people can really step up to the plate when it really matters. Not only can they do what needs to be done, but they can also offer compassion, service and love, which are all necessary and important.

This weekend was probably one of the toughest of my life, but it's also been miraculous in many ways. I was floored when I arrived at my parents' house on Friday night and saw an entire fridge full of food ward members and friends had brought over in support of my family. And it kept coming for the rest of the weekend. With each doorbell ring, I found myself touched more by the loving kindness that people show when it really matters.

My heart was filled with gratitude as I saw the number of people, including many extended family members, who came to support my sister and brother-in-law and our family. I was grateful too for my friends who drove a long distance to be there for me when I needed it. It's making me cry just thinking how touched I am by that. How can you thank someone for coming through for you when you needed it most, when you were truly at one of the lowest and hardest points in your life? I don't really know, but I'm trying to figure it out. I do know that if the situation were reversed, I would be there in a heartbeat, so I hope that, for now, that's a start.

I just want to say thanks to all the folks in the Paul 2nd and Nampa something wards (I can't remember which ward number Nampa is so sorry about that) who have helped and supported our family. I owe an even bigger thanks to my dear friend the Bibliophile who flew 2,000 miles to be there not only for me but for my entire family. She bravely oversaw details, purchased groceries, cared for children and offered support. I don't know how to adequately express my thanks for that either.

I just know that my heart is full and has truly been touched.

Our beautiful angel

I am both sad and happy to report that after weeks and months, and sometimes even hours and days, of great suffering our beautiful angel returned to her Father in Heaven this morning. My sister told me her passing from this life into the next was peaceful--a wonderful blessing after the months of suffering she's endured

She has been so brave, enduring what would be difficult even for adults with grace and dignity. Her courageous battle, along with her that of her mom and dad, has touched so many lives. Perhaps we can't see it now, in light of the grief, but perhaps doing so has been part of her mission in this life. Perhaps it has encouraged people to re-examine their priorities to remember what is really important and to hold onto their families all the more. If so, it has truly been a life well lived. If not, it's still been a wonderful life.

My own heart feels broken right now, but I know that it's no worse than what my sister and her family are experiencing. I am eternally grateful that our merciful Father in Heaven has finally ended her suffering and called her home again. It gives me peace to know that. But my heart aches at the thought of never seeing her again, of never watching the expression come over her face when she said something sassy to me, of never meeting her at her favorite restaurant, Chuck-a-Rama, again when she came to Salt Lake for her doctor's appointment.

I'll miss all the little compliments that she would always send my way from telling me how beautiful I am to how much she loves me or that "my money doesn't work here" when we met for lunch. (I'm pretty sure that legacy comes from her wonderful father.) I'll miss the hugs she always gave and the fact that she loves everyone, even people who are difficult to love. I'll miss her cute little stories about silly things her brothers have done, told from the perspective of a benevolent older sister. I'll miss watching her crank up the music and jam with the best of them. I'll miss all the dramatic little things 12-year-olds do just because they're 12.

But most of all I'll miss the special connection that I've always felt with her. We are aunt and niece, but I loved her (as I do all my nieces and nephews) like she was my daughter. I was so very excited to be an aunt, and she was the first grandchild who came along. Her life has never been easy, but she endured it well. I haven't had the experience of being her mom of worrying and watching over her every day of her life, of caring for her as her body began to shut down. But I think for the 12 years she was on this earth that there was seldom, if ever, a day when she wasn't included in my prayers, when I didn't think about her or when I didn't feel such a strong love for her.

Farewell beautiful angel. Your family still here on earth loves you very much and can't wait to see you again someday. Please watch over us and know you'll never be far from our hearts.

Waiting, just waiting

What do you do when you know the worst is coming but you don't know when? And you're halfway afraid every time your cell phone rings that it'll be that one call, the one that will tell you for sure that the thing you've been dreading for quite some time has come. Voicemail messages no longer just mean that you missed a call but they might contain sad news (although I must admit I think it'd be terrible to hear it that way).

How do you decide what to pray for? And if the person who will shortly be leaving this life has found peace knowing that her loved ones will be okay, how do you go about finding the same peace and a way to fill in the hole her departure will leave behind?

I know there will be a time, at least for a little while, where everything isn't going to be okay, and I just have to accept that. It will be hard for awhile for my whole family, particularly my sister and her family. My heart aches every time I think what they must be going through, which only makes me pray harder that they will be able to make it through and be stronger for it. I'm sure if I look deep inside myself that I can figure out what I need to do and where I need to turn for comfort and strength. It's just difficult to figure out how to make myself do it when I feel so broken and sad inside with tears threatening every time I turn around.

But all I can do is pray with all the strength I posess that somehow, some way I'll make it through this. That when the waiting is over, I will be able to bear the loss it'll bring.

Despite what it may sound like here, I do know that I am NEVER alone and that my Father in Heaven will NEVER leave me comfortless. I just need to keep things in perspective and do all the things that will draw me to Him, and to my Savior. If my wonderful, amazing sister can do it, so can I.

In the meantime, I'll just keep waiting . . .