Summer is still in full swing...

The summer is going to be gone before we know it. My kids are the kind of kids that like to sit inside in the air conditioning rather than hang out in the outdoors, barefoot and grubby, all day long. One way I do get them to stay outside a little while longer- despite our heat and humidity this summer especially- is by giving them popsicles and frozen treats. The other day Crew had his first orange cream push-up.

It was a hit.

Hope you're enjoying all the fun summer has to offer! I am making a new savory recipe from Martha Stewart's Pies and Tarts book for dinner tonight. I just might let you know how it turns out. It's going to be full of fresh Farmer's Market produce- so how bad can it be even if I mess it up, right?! Mmmm. Farmer's Market produce. One of my favorite things about summertime!

Three thousand, six-hundred and fifty days...

Three thousand, six-hundred and fifty days. Not counting Leap Years. That's a whole lot of missing.
I know.
That's how long it's been since I last kissed my daughter, Teagan. That's how many days my heart has wished I could turn back the hands of time. That's the number of times I've awoke in the morning and wished my reality was just a bad dream from which I could awaken from.
A whole decade of letting that reality sink in still hasn't changed the clarity of my memories of "that day". The one where everything I had learned and believed up to that point in my life would be shaken and tested. Ten years have passed and my heart rate still jumps at certain sights, sounds, smells and those triggers bring me right back to that day. They are etched, as few other memories in my life are, in such detail and wrapped up in the greatest pain I have ever felt. Sometimes I close my eyes and start to bring them to mind and all these years later I still find I need to catch my breath as those pictures unfold in my memory.
The crash. The screams. The slow-motion of it all. The disbelief and unreal feeling feeling all too real. The sense of urgency outweighing the terror I felt creeping in. The horror I was trying not to let in just kept unfolding unlike any dream I could have ever dreamed on my own. The weight of Teagan's limp body in my arms as I carried her several paces and then realized I had no where to go so I stopped and laid her down. That's the part when it all began to seem achingly real.
I kept hearing myself say, "Oh God... oh, God... oh, God... please."
Please, what?
Please, help. Please, NO! Please don't let this be us... just please, oh, please!
But it was us. And them.
And.
Her.
* * *
There is a story in the Bible where someone asks Jesus how many times must you forgive someone when they sin against you. One time? Two? Three? Seven?
Jesus' reply is "Not seven times, but seventy times seven."
Four hundred and ninety times.
That's an awful lot of forgiveness.
I used to wonder (as a young girl growing up as a Pastor's kid and hearing these stories often) why would Jesus pick some a random, big, crazy number? I used to think it was way too much. Who would ever need to forgive someone that many times... 490 times?
I certainly never dreamed it would be me. Moreover, I most certainly never dreamed that not only would I have to choose to forgive seventy times seven, but even hundreds more times than that.
Three thousand, six-hundred and fifty times. In just the first 10 years alone.
Forgiveness is a choice. I choose daily to forgive.
But I must confess and be truthful too and tell you that sometimes I fail. Some days I have desired forgiveness in my heart and soul, yet I have fallen short in living it out in the actions of my life that day. I have claimed forgiveness to be so, but it hasn't always been true in the thoughts of my mind. I have even "fought it" on particularly tough days that simply haven't felt fair for me to forgive. There have been lots of tough days over the past 10 years. There have been lots of days where I have felt life to be unfair.
But it isn't my place to decide when or why or how or where. As much as I would like to choose which days I can forgive fully and which days I can just skip that part, I know I am not the one who gets to decide. I am not the one chosen to hand out the punishment or sentence. I was chosen for something else. I am asked to forgive out of the overflow of forgiveness given to me. I am asked to show mercy where none is deserved. I have been shown grace and in such an act given to me even when I was less than, I am changed and now I know it is grace that I can extend to another who is less than too.
Ten years ago I was "doing everything right". I was a middle-class, tax-paying, home-keeping, church-going, hard-working wife and mom to three young kids who just happened to sit down around a table at a restaurant with my family in hopes of simply enjoying a simple Sunday brunch together. However, the actions of another forever changed the way I now look at life.
I wish I could say that my scars have healed and that we've blossomed into a family that lives life to the fullest and has learned to leave our worries behind.
The fact is that 10 years later I still feel an ache inside on a lot of days. Sometimes I even mutter the words, "I forgive you" outloud just to try to make myself believe that truth and hopefully feel it a bit more clearly inside. I know I have forgiven. I have claimed it over and over and I do feel it has changed the way I live. But it is still oftentimes a conscious choice- or should I say a surrender on my part to claim that forgiveness. I'll even admit that it's still a lesson I wish I never had to learn. Yet it seems to be the life lesson I've needed most.
I am nothing.
Teagan was nothing.
The one who turned our lives upside-down is nothing.
We all are nothing.
Without Him.
Without His Grace.
Without His Forgiveness. Without His love and mercy and compassion and healing.
I choose to believe that His ways are not my ways; His are higher and perfect and Just.
Good even.
Even when I don't feel it. Even when I have to pick up my cross daily and claim it to be true.
I will.
For 10 years I have.
It hasn't always been easy. Or nice. Or pretty.
Or wrought with showers of blessings- as the old hymn says.
I'll be honest.
It hurts.
A lot of days it still hurts.
Teagan was my light~ my delight~ she was irreplaceable and there is still a void in my heart and forever will bein my life where I feel she should be. Where I miss everything about her.
Wyndham too is a daily reminder of the most hurtful day of our lives as we continue to watch her struggle to do many of the "normal" things others can do. We see her suffer pains in her life that many will never know. With each diaper change and never-ending trips to and from therapy sessions we are reminded that some hurts will never go away. We have learned to live with them.
Three thousand, six-hundred and fifty days ago the sky was blue, the sun was shining down and somehow our lives suddenly erupted with chaos all around.
Ten years later we've "righted" a lot of things. We've learned to laugh through our tears. We've learned to hold on to even the tiniest threads of hope at times. We've chosen to forgive and to live that and truly mean it- not simply mouth the words. We've healed more than we could have imagined we could or would- both inside and out. We've loved again. We've believed in brighter days. We've brought more kids into the world that at times felt empty and dark. We've witnessed happiness and beauty and joy and miracles.
We have walked a long, winding, twisted path that still doesn't always seem like the path to be on, but we know that faith sometimes asks us to walk places we would rather not go. Faith often means we must take the next step no matter what lies around the next turn. It means being willing to trust, simply because we know and believe in the One who is leading- He can be trusted.
Ten years of remembering. Of missing. Of wishing it all different. Of wanting things to never change from the way they were. Ten years of tears that feel like they'll never stop- then finding moments of joy in the midst of them. Ten years of forgiving and hoping and believing that it makes a difference. In us. In her. In anyone who wonders if it even does make a difference in life to forgive.
The answer is yes. It does. It can. It will.
If you allow it to.
I'll never stop remembering Teagan. I'll never stop missing her. I'll never stop loving her. Or telling stories about her to anyone that is willing to listen. I'll never stop wanting to live life more fully because of her. She is and always will be thelove of my heart.
I forgive, not because of her, but because of Him.
I follow- because He is faithful.
I believe- because He promises to make all things new.
I hope- because He gives mercy.
I am changed, not because of one day in my life, but because of what He did one day for me. I am changed because of who HE is. I still give Him the broken, messed up pieces of my heart and life and trust that even as He redeems the brokeness that it's not for my sake.
But for His glory.
As I think back to the horror of that day- July 29th, 2001- it's scary and terrifying and ugly and gloomy and filled with despair. Yet somehow God has brought good out of it. Even when I don't notice the goodness. Sometimes it's hard to see it very often; that's been especially true in our lives the past several months. But looking back has made me realize just how great God is. I still have a whole future of choosing forgiveness and giving our hurts and challenges to Him.
I know, without a doubt, as I have had 10 years- three thousand, six-hundred and fifty days- of daily reminders that He is seeing us through! Today I pause to reflect and to humbly give thanks to God for bringing us this far.

The number of her days...

Yesterday I posted on my FaceBook status that Teagan came up to me while I was making her lunch and out of the blue asked me, "Mommy, how many days am I?". I spun around and looked at her and sort of laughed when I told her, "I'm not exactly sure of the number, but you're a lot of days old, Sweetie, and you have a lot of days left".

It turns out I was wrong.

She had only a couple of days left on this earth.

I have been thinking a lot about how I might have lived those 48 hours differently if I had known they would be our last days together. I've blogged about the topic before and how I really feel it was probably best for me not to know- especially when life took such a drastic turn. I know nothing could have prepared me for what was about to happen in our lives back then.

A big part of the peace and acceptance of Teagan's death though has hung on the fact that we know and trust that God was not surprised one bit by what happened. In fact, the Bible even tells us that even before a single day comes to be, He has ordered that number perfectly.

God knew before Teagan ever took her first breath just how many days she would live out on this earth.

She lived the perfect number of days. For her.

It's not to my liking, that's for certain, but my heart has accepted it as much as a mother's heart can, I believe.

She lived and loved fully. I know I overthink the what if's, the why's, the how's and never stop wondering where we would be in life if things had gone differently that day. Somehow just knowing that I'll never forget and I'll never stop loving her- even when she's gone helps to temper the weight of the grief I feel from all we've lived through and emptiness we've felt having Teagan gone. The breadth of her life was short, but the impact I still feel from the days she did live on earth have forever touched the core of me.

Tomorrow we mark 10 years since our tragedy at The Old Depot.

I only hope that even as I recall the memories of our past I won't take the days we all have left for granted. Not one single one.

Bella's birthday and thoughts...

Yesterday was Bella's 9th birthday. She requested Baked Caramel French Toast for breakfast and she is in love with all things Pokemon, so I added some detailing to a Ryke's cake and it was one sugary, tasty day for all of us. =)

I was secretly hoping her birthday wish would be for all the laundry to wash, dry and put itself away, but I guess that wasn't it as I still have two clean piles to put away as I type this. I hope she wished for good things to happen in life. We are all still so ready for things in life to turn down the stress levels a bit and to get back to a more "normal" state. It's been a wild, long year for all of us and there's still a ways to go too.

I always get especially nostalgic at Bella's birthday as she was born just 4 days prior to the first annivesary of Teagan's death and our family tragedy. It's still so hard to grasp all that went on in that one calendar year back from July '01-'02. I still can't begin to know how it is that a person can lose one child and gain another in less than a year's time, but I can tell you that Bella has added joy and personality and she is such a thoughtful girl too. Nobody could have ever filled Teagan's {sparkly!} shoes, but Bella sure filled our hearts back with a taste of happiness and hope that we hadn't had in a long time. I'm so glad God sent her into our lives 9 years ago. I only wished she could have met her big sister.

Happiness is...

Happiness is all around us. Somewhere. In someone or something or even in a dream we imagine no matter where we are or what we are going through. I have learned the secret of seeing or finding happiness. It's in being open to it. Looking for it. Wanting it. Aching for it. Being intentional about seeking it.

Suddenly, sometimes right in front or above or swirling around you, there it is.

Happiness was so evident when Crew got his hands into a new bucket of chalk and had a clear, blue sunny day to play with it on the driveway. Happiness rarely costs a thing, but at the same time you can't begin to put a price on it. It just is. It doesn't have conditions or strings attached or deadlines or hidden agendas.

My biggest problem with happiness?

It's me.

Far too often I miss it.

I miss seeing it.

I miss looking for it.

I want it packaged differently.

I want to make it happen my way.

Or the other person's way.

Or I just plain forget that it's even out there because clouds seem to get in my way, when in reality the clouds are the vehicle and tool leading me through or toward happiness.

I used to believe in a world where happiness was the guarantee. I used to believe that if you did everything right- or at least tried to do it all right- you'd find it or it would simply come to you. I have since grown and experienced the truth which is the reality that "right" isn't a guarantee for anything. It still is the best way to live and try to do things. But it isn't a shield or automatic "free card" for experiencing happiness.

In this month of reflection I find it even more important for me to look for the simple happiness in people and things around me.

Like laughter of kids in summer as they play chalk on the driveway.

Like the look of pride on Wyndham's face as she pedaled her bike on her own the other night after nearly a year of not being able to ride on it.

I see it in the sparkle of Teague's eyes as he tries something new- like opening a cupboard door and pulling out the containers stacked neatly inside the doors.

I see it in Bella and Ava when they ask for a "sleepover" and they hear the answer "yes" and then they smile as they head off to bed in the same room.

I sense it in Brock each time he gets to do something where he exercises independence. Even or should I say, especially in the little things- like getting a library card and riding his bike to check out some books.

I know it's there. Every day. In the big stuff; the little stuff; the amazing moments and equally in the mundane ones too.

I am choosing to claim it and embrace it daily right now. It might not change my world and they way I see things or change the way things are, but it changes a moment. Or two. Or three. And when I start noticing happiness the way it was meant to be experienced, I start to feel it in my heart. That, my friends, happens to be the place where happiness matters most.

Summer days.

Summer seems to fly by no matter if you're a kid enjoying a break from school or if you're busy trying to keep up with kids home from school. Isn't that right? Or even if you don't have kids and you just want to soak in as much fun and sun as possible. There just aren't enough hours to squeeze everything in.

But we're trying our best around here. Wyndham has a demanding schedule of therapy right now and that actually has allowed me to get out with the other kids a little bit more than I had thought I would be the past few weeks. She gets to spend some free time at the club with Chip- sitting at the computer playing Paint and games and even getting to ride the cart around the course from time to time. She is loving it and is working hard at getting comfortable on her feet and using a cane. I am much more hopeful with her prognosis now than I was at the beginning of the summer. Sometimes hard work actually does pay off!

One of the things I have to do during these summer days of July is to try to over-compensate for what I am feeling inside as we get closer and closer to the anniversary of our Old Depot incident. It is such a struggle for me inside still- 10 years later- to not let the grief creep in and overshadow the fun we still can have as a family no matter what is on our hearts. One of the things I did, mostly for me =), was to get out the Easy Bake oven and make a couple of batches of tiny cookies. It is one of the activities Teagan loved to do most and her fingerprints are still smudged on the window on the front of the oven where you peek inside to watch the cookies bake. I have told my kids they are welcome to peek inside and touch the window too; however no one is allowed to ever whip the window clean. Just knowing that she is still a part of the memoies of the little oven makes the treats we bake taste that much better to me. The kids all oved making the chocolate crinkle cookies {click here for the recipe we used and love!} and I just hope they will grow up understanding that grief and remembering and having fun and laughing can all be rolled into one. I don't know how else to live with my grief other than to incorporate it into their lives too. I don't think they will ever fully grasp what a sudden and profound loss we experienced when Teagan died, and rarely, if ever, do they see me shed a tear anymore, because I simply don't cry they way I used to. I think they will associate good memories and fun times when it comes to Teagan and that's exactly the way I want them to think about the sister that still holds a big piece of my heart. I think Teagan would be happy to see us having picnics and baking with the play oven and recalling the ways she filled our lives with joy.

These summer days are challenging for me in more than one way. But I am glad that I've been able to learn to tie joy and sorrow together. Not just for me. But for them too.

It's never the best photo...

It's never the most techinically correct, nor do I care if everyone is looking into the camera with smiles on their faces- it's more than that to me. Our last family photo with Teagan was taken as we sat together awaiting the 4th of July fireworks. Each year that we've had the opportunity to do so, I have made a point to try to get a family picture snapped. This one was taken yesterday as we sat and waited for our local parade to begin.
It's crazy to me how life has gotten so much harder for us over the past 10 years, rather than as I would have expected it to have gotten "easier". Maybe it is the marking of a decade and that reality sinking in as the end of this month approaches and the 10th anniversary of our tragedy draws near. Maybe it is simply I wish with all my might that I could live the life I imagine in my mind, but wake up to the fact that wishes don't always come true. Maybe it is the fact that Wyndham- who so deserves every good thing that this world has to offer her- has walked such a long, difficult, hard path for almost her whole life, and she is the one I watch sitting on the sidelines having to let life pass her by far too many times that I feel nothing in this world can ever make it up to her anymore.
Maybe it is in the surrendering.
It's still my biggest challenge. To know when to hold on and when to let go.
I feel I've lived it and learned it, and yet it is the lesson that keeps coming up. Time and time again.
I gave up on the "perfect" family photo years ago, thank goodness for that! But I'm still not ready to give up on loving all of us in spite of our imperfections. It's our flaws that keep us holding on. More tightly than I imagined at times, but the blessing is we're all still together. I just never dreamed we would ever have gotten as big as we did! Ten years changes a lot of things- our family looks a whole lot different than it did back then. I wonder what we'll look like in another 10 years! I have no idea, but I can tell you that we won't be perfect then either! =)

Coke Floats & Pinky Promises.

Today our family is keeping in tradition for the 10th year and having Coke floats together to honor Teagan's memory and make a new one at the same time. It's our annual "Coke Float Day"! We never dreamed ten years ago that having a late night spontaneous Coke float with Teagan would become such a cherished memory. But as circumstances would have it, just one month later as I stood at her hospital bedside and wrapped her tiny pinky around mine and promised to love her forever, I said the most difficult goodbye in my life. I still can't fully wrap my mind around how life took such a dramatic and twisting turn in just a blink of an eye.

Sometime after Teagan died, and likely one of the days where all the strength I could muster went to feeding Wyndham bottles with medicine in it and the rest of my time was spent with tears streaming my face, I flipped through photos and recounted happy times we'd spent with Teagan. It was the one thing that I did to keep my mind off the hoorror of what we'd been through- I had to concentrate on how lucky we had been to have such a great little girl in our life and we had been blessed with lots of wonderful "ordinary" moments with her in 4 short years.

When June 30th rolled around that first year after losing Teagan, we made a special point of recreating the moment of Chip and Teagan's late night Coke Float with Brock. We wanted his life to have some happy times too- even as difficult as life had become for us. In doing so we found that not only did we get the chance to remember a wonderful time with Teagan, but it was a chance to turn our heartache into a new happy memory at the same time. And goodness knows our hearts needed opportunities for joy in life again!

We had lived and learned how quickly life changes unexpectedly and also just how quickly our days go by- no matter what is going on in them. Big stuff, little stuff; everyday, routine stuff, or extraordinary, amazing stuff!

You can click to enlarge the photos here to read the journaling on a scrap page I made when I first started scrapping back in 2006. I remembered this night with Teagan and Chip so clearly. If tragedy hadn't struck it would have just been one more picture among so many others I snapped through the years. But in light of what happened, it became a treasure and a gift that now lives on each year as Coke Float Day.

Our family will be "celebrating" this ordinary, special day out at Chip's golf club with some frothy mugs of root beer or coke and ice cream. But we invite you to join us by having your own round of Coke floats or whatever it is in your life that would be meaningful and memorable and fun. Don't wait for a "reason" to enjoy today. Don't wait for a crisis to be reminded that today is a gift- just as it is every single day! Pop some popcorn and enjoy a movie together, or go for a walk and feed some ducks at a nearby pond or bring a fresh bunch of flowers to a neighbor who needs a pick-me-up or even call a loved one that you haven't spoken to in a long while and say, "I've missed you and love you!" simply because you have the chance to do so.

We've lived through some dark, grief-stricken days and still have ongoing challenges that affect us every day. We've learned it's so important to take time and intentionally live in the moment. We aren't superheroes when it comes to happiness and sometimes the biggest life lesson we've learned from our heartache and loss of Teagan is to never take the little moments for granted. We're so thankful we had Coke float night with Teagan and we're so thankful that we can enjoy it each year (and sometimes several times each year!) with the rest of our kids too. We hope you are moved to take an ordinary moment in your life and make it memorable and extraordinary in your own special way because of the legacy Teagan left to us. She was truly a gift to us. To you, and to whoever chooses to celebrate life- in the big and little things. Happy Coke Float Day from the whole Ferlaak family today! Find something to celebrate!

Her fragrance in life...

Today is my Grandma Shirley's birthday. But she's not here with us on earth as she passed away last October. I have written on occasion of my dear Grandma as her life was filled with such twists and turns. I still wish she would have written a book- it would be full of tragedy and yet ultimately beauty, love and grace. That's what my Grandma's legacy is for me and so many others whose lives she touched.

The baby picture of her is so special because just like one would expect, my Grandma came into this world in a very unique and special way- yet even her birth story holds some heartbreak. She was born June 22, 1924 in Mitchell, South Dakota to a young woman who left her at the hospital. The nurses grew fond of her after caring for her for a few months and one of them in particular wanted to adopt her. But she was a young, single woman and that's not how things played out back in the 1920's, so this nurse called her married sister in Minnesota and asked her to come and adopt the baby and that's just what took place. My great-grandma, Lydia and ,y great-grandpa Ray Michel, took the train out and back and that's how my Grandma's life story begins.

On days like this her story makes me wonder. I wonder about her mother and father and their families and how they lived their lives never knowing what happened to the sweet, tiny baby left at the hospital. I wonder how my Grandma's life would have been different had she been taken home and grown up under totally different circumstances. Thinking about the circumstances that fell into place in order for me and all my siblings and cousins and my mom and her siblings to be here is an amazing thought. One major detail in my Grandma's life ended up determining so many other things- it's startling to think of what might have or could have been.

My grandma would make the point, if she were writing or telling this story, that she believed that God was ordaining each event and person in her life. She would tell you that even though the circumstances were unusual and even though she faced tragedy and trials like some never have in their lives, that God was in each hardship and He was her steadfast rock and strength. He never failed her.

She would grow up in Minnesota in a very loving family- the oldest of 3. She was a happy girl with laughter and song and a smile for everyone she met. She loved music and I still remember countless songs sung around her piano in her home when I was a girl growing up. My memories of going to Grandma's and spending time in her home are all wonderful. In fact the worst memory I have was a happy one that went bad in a big hurry, but still turned out good in the end.

At about age 5 I was staying at my grandparents while my parents had to be away- and my 2 brothers and 2 sisters were there too. We decided to dress up and play "Here Comes the Bride" and when the plastic flowers were tossed I tried to catch them but ended up hitting my forehead on one of the end tables in the living room. I hit my head hard and ended up needing about 6 stitches on my forehead. It was my grandma who got a warm towel and loaded me up and sat next to me while the doctor stitched me up. I got a tiny piggy bank on the way home and it was my Grandma who put a silver dollar inside of it. She had a way of making even life's tearful moments something to smile about.

* * * * *

I've been getting up early to go biking the past several days now that summer is warming up and really it has less to do with me wanting to get in shape, as much as it's my time to think and have some breathing room from all my kids that demand so much of me while Chip is busy with the golf season in full swing. It's been so nice for me to catch my breath and to clear my head and I realize how much I crave quiet! I never knew how much I like solitude- it makes me think that maybe I could be a "real writer" at some time in my life. Quiet space lets me collect my thoughts. What I love about biking and how this all plays into my thoughts about my Grandma today is this- there are lots of different homes that I ride past each morning- depending on which route I take. But one in particular made me think of Grandma's house a couple of times as I rode by and smelled breakfast coming from the open windows. The other morning it was the scent of bacon and eggs that almost made me ride up to the front door and ask if I could come in for a quick bite. =) I'm sure it was the kind of breakfast where there would have been plenty for one more to join in. It's exactly the thing that made me think about what made my Grandma so special and it is what I've been thinking about as a frazzled mom most days.

The thing is my Grandma wasn't a wealthy woman. She married a farmer and they worked hard to just keep things going as they started out. There was nothing glamorous about the pigs and chickens she helped to raise. I've heard the stories so I know that firsthand! One of the tragedies that struck her life was when their farmhouse had a terrible fire on Memorial Day in 1953 and she lost her young son in that fire and her husband, Royal, suffered horrible burns and was hospitalized and endured surgeries for over 2 years. He was out of the hospital for such a short time when their familiy had a terrible car accident and then he was killed and my Grandma was hospitalized and laid up for months after that. Several years later she married the Grandpa I knew and loved all the years I was growing up and he was a minister. It goes without saying that he wasn't in a profession for money and they lived humbly all their years together. So money and things and a fancy home or trips or anything that people think they wish they could give or pass on to their family isn't what I recall when I think of my Grandma. It's the memory of the savory breakfasts she cooked up when we were lucky enough to stay over at her house. It's the memory of the hours she spent in the kitchen, especially on Thanksgiving, to pull off a feast that I'll never be able to recreate. The food was outstanding because she poured her heart into it. It never mattered that her house was so crowded with all of the relatives that sometimes you got a seat where once you were in your spot you knew you wouldn't be getting out of that spot until at least 6 other people moved from theirs first! =) Her home always smelled welcoming- whether it was a holiday or not. She made it comfortable and it was the way she met us at the door with the best hugs and 'hello' that we all looked forward to the most.

Life sure tried it's best to un-do her so many times. She had a rough road and yet I grew up loving her jokes, her stories, her pies, her music, her friends and especially hearing about how God had seen her through it all- the good AND the bad. She loved Jesus with all her heart and she shared the love He calls us to share with everyone she came in contact with. Her life fragrance is something I can close my eyes and still imagine it so clearly. She lived her life in a way that attracted people to her- you wanted to be around my Grandma because there was just something so likable about her.

There are some beautiful homes on my bike route. Some have gorgeous landscapes and manicured lawns. I don't know what kind of people live inside of them. I'm sure they are nice, but what struck me on my bike ride is how I was so drawn to the humble home- the much more lowly home where the scent of "goodness" was one that nearly drew me in. My grandma was like that home. Granted I think she was beautiful inside and out- so she's sort of a mix of the nice homes and the lowly home. But her legacy makes me want to live my life so that the aroma I give off- the attitude that I express, the words that I say, the manner in which I show love or not- makes me want to strive harder to be the kind of person that will be remembered for being a "sweet scent" in this life.

I'm so fortunate that the unique circumstances that surrounded my Grandma's birth led to the family she was adopted into and grew into the family I feel grateful to be a part of today. I am striving to follow Jesus the way my Grandma lived and I am thankful for her example of steadfastness no matter what comes our way. I think of her so many times and I'll never forget the way she smells to me... she's that wonderful. One day I know I will see her again; oh what a day that will be!

Still doing the juggling act...

Sometimes I wish I had been in juggling club back in high school because I feel it might have better prepared me for this time in my life. By this time, I mean having more kids, demands and activities going on around me than I do the ability to meet all those demands and do everything well. I keep trying to remind myself that I am doing the best with what I have, but I still can't shake that feeling of mommy guilt that it's not enough. Why is it so hard for us to let go of our ideals so often? I'm working on that. I'm learning I am more of a perfectionist than I wish I was and with a family as big and diverse in age and skills as mine, it's just not practical to be perfect anymore. Although I think Chip would tell you've I've been less than perfect for a long time now! =)

A couple of these photos I just took this morning as Bella and Ava headed out with Chip to the golf course for the kick off of Junior Golf this year. They were happy to be getting to do an activity and the kids always love to spend a little extra time with their dad this time of year too. Well, they love to spend extra time with him anytime- but especially so during his long summer hours. He makes such an effort to do things with the kids when he has the time. He took Brock and Crew out to hit some balls and play a few holes on Sunday afternoon. I need to give him more credit for all the things he does to lighten the load and make life more fun for us around here than I do. I tend to jump on him most when I get stressed out and overwhelmed and the truth is I need to point out more often all the things he does right and well. We all love him and are grateful to have Chip's flexibilty to help life keep moving along for all of us. I think it's okay for me to wish him a Happy Father's Day a few days early because he is so deserving of praise and also you and I both know I probably won't get a chance to blog again in time! So thanks, Chip, for being such a great dad and an example of what a leader and hard worker looks like. You are loved so much and we promise to tell you and show you that we mean it more around here too!

Now for a quick update on Wyndham and her current situation... we had an in-depth meeting with her surgeon last week and we're all in agreement (we her parents, case manager and therapists) that something hasn't been going well/right with her rehab for several weeks now. Chip and I have been so patient, but growing more and more disappointed and frustrated with how she's just not getting better, and in fact, in some ways has been getting worse. So after more x-rays and examination the doctor seems confident that there shouldn't be a reason for her to not want to bear weight on her feet. We're just unsure why she doesn't want or can't get back to walking. The decision was made to spend the next 2-3 weeks with an intsense physical therapy program as well as adding aqua therapy to her routine. So we're going from a couple of hours a week to sometimes twice daily workouts in hopes that we might see some progress and also to see if we can get her to build some muscle that she keeps losing. Yesterday was Wyndham's first time in a pool in over a year at a therapy center and she did great! She loved it so much she didn't want to get out of the water. It was the one posotive thing we've seen happen in a long time. Now I am hoping and praying that it not only will feel good for her- but that it will actually make a difference for her. If this extra hard work out schedule doesn't yield the results we are hoping for the next step would be to have to admit her to in-patient therapy in Grand Rapids and right now, honestly, I don't know if I can handle the stress and change that we demand of her, me and all of us as a family. I feel like we're already stretched so thin and I don't know where we would get the time, energy or opportunity for us to spend the time with her at a hospital setting for several weeks or months. Not to mention that it's not an easy thing to send your child away for such a lengthy time knowing she has needs unique to her and understood best by tose of us here at home. So feel free to join us in prayer and wishing Wyndham the best outcome we might expect as she is pushed harder the next couple of weeks.

I think one of my biggest life lessons since the death of Teagan and the trials we have endured since then has been to realize that as much as we strive to always do the right thing and to want the best and safest environment for our kids to grow and thrive in so much of what happens is still out of my/our control. There has been an ongoing 'theme' of surrender in our hearts and lives and I still struggle with giving it all up and saying, "whatever happens I simply trust You" and lay it all down for God to do in our lives as HE sees fit.

Life is hard... but God can use it all for His glory. Such a wonderful truth, but so hard to swallow!

I think it's more me than her...

How is it June already? I guess the previous month really got away from me more than I thought it would. I always have good intentions of dropping by here and posting updates or things that are happening, and then I find that it's 10 or later at night and I have nothing left to give anymore! So it's not for lack of topics- like I think I've mentioned before, but simply that the days are getting longer, warmer and even {somehow!} busier than they have been at any other time.

Teague is growing like a little weed. Or should I say a jumbo cupcake. =) The cupcake above was one I got up and frosted at 5:30 am the other morning so Bella could take it to her end-of-year 3rd grade class party. It happened to be her teacher's birthday too- so I had to go big instead of just ordinary. I find that baking makes me happy and baking fun, creative things makes me even happier. Even if it does cost me an hour or two of sleep and my blog suffers as a result too. I think the class appreciated it this time.

So Teague is growing and changing and finding new things to get himself into or onto each day. He has Crew and all his other bigger siblings to learn from and follow their examples- I just wish he wanted to take it a little more slowly at times. We found him near the top of a flight of stairs more than once this week. He's quick and he doesn't even look back! He is totally unaware of the danger involved and gets the biggest, proudest look on his face the higher he goes. I foresee a trip to the ER for stitches in his early childhood at some point in time. He's a little daredevil already!

I snapped a couple of pictures that are so routine around here right now with Wyndham still almost 100% of the time in her wheelchair and with Teague totally intrigued with everything about it despite the sharp edges, knobs and screws on it. You might notice he has access to a basket of toys and things all around the room he's in- but he has very little interest in anything if the chair is in sight. The only thing I found that catches his attention more than Wyndham's wheelchair is my pink vacuum. Just the things for a 9-month old baby to play with and chew on! I've been so frustrated and angry with how slow and drawn-out Wyndham's recovery from her feet has been. We have a doctor appointment coming up and are hoping to get some answers or even new direction/help on how to get her back to her previous state or at least more independent and we would LOVE to see her able to even use a walker rather than a chair. We have just entered the 9 month of having her unable to move around on her own and to say that I am tired and weary of it is an undertstatement. It has actually gotten much harder in many respects, rather than easier as the months continue to drag on.

The more I reflect on it, the more I can sense that my attitude and perspective have gotten clouded and I've begun to doubt that life will ever get back to "normal" again. It's only been in the last about 72 hours that I am convincing myself that if this IS the new normal and it IS as good as it may ever get, well then, I can accept that and even see that it will be okay. But I certainly don't want to believe it's true if there is still hope that things can turn around.

The picture of Wyndham smiling is one I took of her on a good day. She has had some major personality change- if you ask me- and sometimes I think she is just more accepting that this may be as "good as it gets" and she just endures her days in her chair. She certainly shows signs of wishing things different though- especially the other day when her sisters and little neighbor girls were out on our front lawn and she sat watching them out the window. They were running, jumping, laughing and rolling down the grass; Wyndham kept pointing outside.

My heart both leapt and broke at the same time. We have no ramp on our house and therefore because of the size and bulk of the chair and her I have very limited ability to get her outside. I've since been able to get her up and down our front steps with much effort- but it is really not an ideal situation. I call myself a prisoner in my own home whenever Chip has to be away. Which, as you can imagine with golf season in full swing, is often. We are working on getting one built and in place, but in the meantime it has been a mental and physical hurdle for me that we never even thought much about when went into this surgery last fall. I am feeling guilt and regret and wondering how much of me is what's holding Wyndham back.

Today is my day to fully, 120%, embrace a new outlook, attitude and big dreams. Not for me- but for her! And if she never gets to the point where she is wheelchair-free, well then my dreams will include that too. What I do know is that I can still get Wyndham to stand up and even as I provide support and stability, we can still dance together. This morning I held her up next to her bed and we danced a couple of measures- even with no music playing. So therein lies my hope and contentment today. I know that whatever happens we can still dance- even with no music at all. =)

Imitation is the greatest form of flattery...

I snapped this sequence of photos yesterday morning as I watched to see what Teague was up to. It turns out he wants to be just like Crew and do what his bigger brother does. That laves me with mixed emotions as Crew has his own way of doing things most of the time. =)

Seriously though, I couldn't believe that Teague got his own game and then proceeded to join Crew playing it on the couch. Crew had his game on the couch in order to 'keep away' from the baby. Ha! Seven babies later and I am still amazed at how quickly they grow, how independent they strive to be, and how much they are soaking up from the world around them. Hopefully all the good parts of us are rubbing off and all our faults will be overlooked.

I am happy to report that Crew seems to be turning a bit of a corner and has been very nice the past few days. At least much nicer and easier to get along with then the previous year and a half. Maybe Teague is rubbing off on him too. =)

I just noticed my laundry is all folded in the basket in the background in these pictures. I am happy to report that it was all put away by last night too. And I'm caught up on two more loads yet today. Hopefully all that hard work is rubbing off on my little ones and they'll be doing their own laundry before I know it! Oh it's good to dream big sometimes!

Pointing out greatness.

I didn't like myself all that much from about 5th grade through my senior year in college. I'm not totally sure why that is and there are really about a million reasons I can recall all at the same time. I do remember {and still have the paper somewhere} that in 9th grade I wrote myself a note about things I would do if I ever became a parent. One was that I would praise my kids simply for who they were. Not based on anything physical or tied to an academic achievement or a sports award- just praise for who they are from the inside. Praise due them because of what lies at the core of their heart and in turn what comes out to others around them.

Today I just want to brag "publicly" on my son, Brock. He is 12 years old and in middle school and happens to be the most amazing 'tween' I know. I feel so lucky to have him, not only as my son, but as my oldest kid and my biggest helper in our home. He could easily carry a chip on his shoulder from some of the life experiences he has lived through and endured. Instead, he so often rises to the occasion- without my asking- to just spread love and happiness and goodness to people {especially his family} around him. He is a pleaser and I don't think I tell him thank you enough for all he does to make life easier and better in and around our home.

He has a big heart and is sensitive, but funny at the same time. He puts up with an awful lot from his little brothers and sisters, and the demands of Wyndham seem to just make him more grateful for his own abilities. I'm quite certain I haven't taught him most of the things that make me love him so much. They simply are just a part of who he is. I don't think he is remotely aware of how "great" he is, and even less aware of how much he can impact others and the world around him as he continues to grow and learn and become more of who he is created to be. He is still very much a 'blank canvas'- full of potential to do so many things with his life. Today I just wanted to capture my thoughts about him and hope that he grows up not only loving others well, but himself well too. The world can never have too much greatness. I am humbled and glad to be the one God chose to help guide him into whatever it is he is called to be in this world.

To Brock,

You have a special knack of making people laugh when they feel like crying. You bring out the best smiles in everyone around you. You strive to be better than you were the day before, and you make me want to do the same. That's called inspiring- you are full of it and I'm so glad you share it so freely.

I hope the world gives you half of the dreams you hope for and that the other half surprise you and make your life more than you ever imagined it could be. I know God has had a special plan for your life since even before you were born. I'm thankful that He sent you to touch my heart and life and I'm the lucky one to watch you grow up each day.

Your wit and sense of humor and sarcasm brighten my life and I hope you know - even though I fail to point it out too often- that I think you're amazing.

I will always love and support whatever you choose to do and I know your future holds greatness too. Simply because you will be in it. You are destined for it and nothing can hold you back from whatever it is that God has in store for you.

I'm so grateful for you.

I'm so humbled by you.

I'm so glad you're mine.

I'm so filled with pride of who you are.

Now and always.

I love you, Brock.

Mom

Wordless Wednesday.

What my "castle" looks like these days...

I don't know how the weeks fly by in between blog posts here, because in behind the scenes in our real life sometimes the days and nights seem endless at times! Since Easter Sunday much has happened in the world and in our home too.

It was a very big deal for Prince William and Kate Middleton to marry this weekend- even though we're not British, royalty or in the same time zone. =) I happened to be awake at 4 am when the tv coverage started because Teague was up at that time crying and fussing with a mild fever from his two first teeth coming in. Once I started watching I was hooked and ended up posting a running commentary to my Facebook status updates throughout the whole day. It was actually amusing for me and since Teague wanted to be held most the day, I just used one hand to type and just had fun watching the wedding unfold. I woke Ava, Bella and Brock up just as the couple were about to head out of the church as husband and wife. The girls jumped out of bed and ran as fast as they could to see the new princess; they were so excited! Brock on the other hand didn't move a muscle- until I told him the coffee had just finished brewing and he could grab a cup whenever he was ready. I thought their reactions were spot on- girls love a good fairytale and boys love food! =)

Anyway, I have a lot I could say about the royal wedding and just maybe I'll get around to revisiting those thoughts here in the next few days. I do love weddings and I love tradition and precision at times. So for me it was nice to look on and watch it all happen and I enjoyed seeing and hearing about all the amazing and sometimes even, outrageous details.

Onto the next event, Wyndham got sick toward the end of last week and is still sick today. Last night she ended up in the ER due to dehydration and just being unable to keep anything down. This is nothing new to her or us, so unfortunately we sort of knew what to expect after 4+ days of this illness dragging on. I have to admit I feel like the worst mother at times like this because there just isn't enough "me" to go around and I end up worn very thin and feel more than frazzled. Thankfully I am not up for any mother of the year awards, so it's okay that my house turns into a disaster from Playdough and paints and couch cushion forts and anything else that gets dragged out or in. It's far cry from Buckingham Palace around here, but I'm trying to convince myself that being "normal" is sometimes better than being royal anyway. I snapped some pictures of Teague and Crew just a little bit ago because the more cushions they pulled off the couch and the 'higher' they climbed onto pillows, the happier they seemed to be. It made me pause and realize that what I see as a "mess", they interpret as pure joy! The same thing seems to happen with playdough and paints too. I hope that my kids will grow up thanking me for allowing them to be creative and to explore things rather than remembering that all I did was yell at them to clean up.

It's hard to strike a balance- especially with such a big, diverse group of people in one home. The house is not often that clean and tidy and typically someone needs a nap or a snack or their bed linens washed and dried, or even just a snuggle to make them feel better. I'm no superhero and simply do my best to stay "caught up" as best as possible. Seeing past the chaos to the fun on their faces and the fact that their only kids once is what I'm trying my best to do right now. I figure if I actually pull that off, well then maybe our life will feel like the fairytale most people dare dream it to be.

Keeping it simple.

If you've had any experience around children you know that all too often you give them things and toys and go all out- and then they prefer the box or the string that came wrapped around the package.

Teague is no different. He has been fussing the past few days as his first two teeth are starting to make their appearance. Nothing we bring to him to play with or suck on has made him happy for more than a minute or two. Until he got his hands on this empty water bottle. You would have thought by his reaction and attention to it that it was the latest, greatest toy to hit the market. I sometimes forget that less is more. It's a challenge to keep things picked up and tidy around here with as many kids and ages as we have in our home. Now that Teague is getting more adept at getting around I'm thinking it's the perfect time to scale back on stuff.

We did manage to get a family picture on Easter this past Sunday while our friend Rachael was with us. She knows more than most how much effort goes into even the simplest family photo. We aren't the most photogenic bunch, but I'm learning to be happy with any results just as long as we're all in the shot. Keep it simple. So much easier said than done, but I'm going to give it a try!

How about you? What sort of things do you do each week to simplify things in your home and with your family. I'd love to hear your favorite tips, techniques, shortcuts and whatever else works well for you! Please share!

Not just a box...

This is probably the most difficult post I've ever tried to put into words. The photo doesn't begin to capture what I wish to share and nothing could have ever prepared me for getting such a package in the mail. Inside the box are Teagan's remains. They were sent from the funeral home where Teagan was cremated and have been kept there for nearly 10 years. Last week they came- registered mail. We knew they would be arriving as a result of the home changing some things up and we've known for almost 10 years that we would have to make a decision of what to do with the contents of such a box. Still, nothing prepares you for getting such a package. It now sits on a shelf with some miscellaneous storage items until we can finally make a decision on how, when and where to inter Teagan's remains.
Let me just say that my heart aches all over again for the life Teagan lived and how short it was. My heart hurts at how sudden she was gone and it hurts at how often- even now- something in my day reminds me of her or wishes her back to experience something she never got the chance to do. The wound of losing her feels fresh and stabbing when I look at that box. Yet I know she's gone from this earth forever and my heart still rejoices at the thought of reuniting with her in Heaven again. Someday.
But for now, the reality of what we had, what we loved, what brought so much joy, and what really remains after losing Teagan is a tough thing to grasp. At the time of Teagan's death it was an 'easy decision' for Chip and I to have her tiny body creamated. She looked practically perfect- even though she sustained fatal injuries in our incident. But because Wyndham was so critically ill and not expected to survive her injuries, and because Chip was hospitalized for a few weeks at that time too, it was a simple choice to have her cremated. We then had two different memorial services for Teagan about a month after her death- and one another month later back 'home' in Minnesota with family and friends.
We never dreamed as a young couple starting our family and careers that we would need to make a decision about what to do at the time of the death of a child. Our lives were so full of promise and it wasn't something that ever crossed our minds. Even as we had recently had a scare and nearly lost Wyndham. Just 6 months earlier. I think we felt invinceable. We weren't the "kind of people" that tragedy happened too. Those were the people we read about in the papers and watched on nightly news.
But here we are. Ten years later wondering what will we do next with a box that holds a huge piece of our hearts. There are lots of options in place. But none of them seems right to us yet. We're leaning most toward one day taking our family to the ocean- where Teagan ran and splashed and laughed and played when we lived in Florida- and spreading her ashes out across the waves.
For now, my heart is tender and moved to think that the energetic, blond-haired, blue-eyed girl that sang and danced circles around me and everyone she met could end up in a tiny box that came shipped to our home via registered mail. My world feels oh so upside-down at times. Yet I still cling to the promise that yes, we WILL see her again. That yes, there IS more to this life than that which our eyes can see. And when I close my eyes and feel the tears begin to well in them and a lump inches up in my neck making it hard for me to breathe, I remind myself that she was mine. I held her, loved her, kissed her, danced with her, sang with her, blew bubbles with her, had Coke floats with her, pushed her on the swings and rolled out pie dough with her. We ate apples and rhubarb and lobster and cupcakes and Tootsie Rolls and chocolate chip pancakes together. We fell asleep in each other's arms and together felt safe and happy and ready to take on whatever the world would send our way.
We may have gotten Teagan's remains in the mail last week. But in my heart I know her spirit still soars and that makes my heartache a tiny bit more bearable. Until we meet again.