On my mind...

As the days draw closer for school to start, it reminds me again how much I miss Teagan and it makes me wonder each year, just what she might look like, how grown up she would be as she would be anticipating a new beginning. My heart used to ache for the things I missed out on because of her unexpected death.
But this year, as I started imagining her and trying to 'fit her' into our lives based on what her age would be (she would be 10 yrs. old and about to start 5th grade!) I just couldn't. My mind just can't even wrap around my 4 year old being in middle school. As much as that makes my heart hurt and the tears burn in my eyes, it is just as much a blessing in my life. To know that I can't mentally bring her back into the picture of my real-life actually stirs my soul from sadness to one of joy and peace.
For I know that Heaven cannot begin to compare to the experiences that the rest of us go through from day to day. I know that Teagan is in Heaven, and it is a comfort to me like no other. The fact is she DID miss out on a lot of things here on earth. But none of them would be worth coming back to this world for. The things I found myself realizing the past few days is that she is only missing out on the bad, the scary, the nerve-wracking, the hurtful. School can be a wonderful time for kids- and it should be. But when I think back to that time in my life I can also recall tears that I shed over things like "friends" talking behind my back, or having my feelings crushed for whatever the reason may have been. There were times I got picked last for the team, that I forgot my locker combination or that I looked in the mirror and didn't like what I saw and it threatened my self-image and esteem for a long time. I remember the mixed emotions inside me at that time in my life. Sometimes I just wanted to be silly and innocent and free...yet I knew that life was beginning to expect more from me and there were demands and expectations that I knew existed and I just didn't want to let anyone down. Least of all, me.
What I imagine now when I look ahead to the coming days and years is that, yes, I am sad to a certain degree that Teagan isn't here to be a part of our 'memories'. Everyday I find I miss her presence and all she would add to our lives. Yet it makes my heart glad to know that she is not missing out on any goodness, love or grandeur. She is in Heaven- the place we all wish to be someday. Chip and I have laughed together and enjoyed fond memories of her... but some of our sweetest are ones that we never had to actually experience. She never dated the 'wrong guy'. She never had a broken heart. She never had to feel rejected or unloved or insecure or unimportant or uncertain. She lived a life of joy and gladness- more in her 4 short years than some will ever experience in a lifetime.
Just this past weekend it has been 6 years since we had our first memorial service for Teagan. I remember that day so vividly. Chip and I had never fathomed such a day would actually occur in our lives. We couldn't begin to imagine how we would feel, what we would do, or how we would get through such an unimaginable event. Nothing in life prepares you to say a final goodbye to the one you love- especially when just days before Teagan had been the light of our lives, the joy in our hearts and one of the main things that our whole lives centered on from morning til night. She would laugh and dance and run and play and talk and hug and kiss- almost non-stop. And suddenly that was gone.
One moment stands out in my mind as the most difficult and surreal moment of our tragedy and her death. As we prepared to head to the church for her memorial service, we were surrounded by family and friends whose hearts were broken alongside ours. We had lots of family and friends staying with us, and so we drove several vehicles to the church. I was the last to leave our house- along with my mom and dad and my aunt Dorie. I was unable to walk at that time because of the extensive nerve, muscle and tissue damage in my legs as a result of my injuries, and so I had been using a wheelchair, as well as trying to use crutches.
There were three steps to manuever down our front entry way for me to reach my wheelchair. I was deteremined to walk down them on my own- with the aid of my parents at my side. As I stood on that top step, my heart, mind and body literally froze. I could not move. My parents thought at first, that I was just in so much pain and needed to take my time.
But the fact was that I was so heartbroken that I physically couldn't take another step forward. I knew it would be admitting to myself the reality of what faced me- just moments away- the final farewell to my little Teagan and the beginning of my life without her in it. It just didn't seem possible, and I was frozen in that moment not wanting time to move ahead even one more second.
It is that same sense that I feel at times like these- as I watch my other kids grow and transition and look forward to their future in new and exciting ways. It's true, Teagan never got to do some of the things parents dream for their kids from the moment they are born. But it is me who is missing out on such dreams. Not her. She's in Heaven; and I cannot begin to wrap my mind around the beauty that graces her now.
With that, I have to share a quote by Emily Dickinson that was printed inside a card that a close friend of ours gave to us just before Teagan's service. It says,
"This world is not conclusion, a sequel stands beyond,
invisible, as music, but positive, as sound."
One day I know we will write the ending of our stories, together. For all eternity!