If you believe in karma, you can't believe in her...

One year ago at this time Chip and I were dancing with Wyndham in our living room, then getting her into her jammies and tucking her as cozy as we possibly could into her bed. It was the eve of her double-foot surgery. We knew we were in for some major life changes, and comfort was not going to be one of them. For her, or us. We knew life was about to get as challenging as it's been for us in a long while.

We just didn't have a clue it was going to drag on. For a whole year. Or more.

Trust me.

We've lived through lots and lots of medical situations and injuries that require extensive care and treatment. We've been through the wringer with grief and trauma and all that it takes out of you as you process it and work your way through it. We're no strangers to doctors telling us what to expect- and having it turn out more on the "worst case scenario" end of the spectrum. I guess I could just tell you we're not rookies when it comes to recovery after injuries.

But this time it was different.

There were no medical helicopters or ambulances rushing one of our loved ones off with the outcome {literally} up in the air. We were feeling cautious, yet hopeful as Wyndham faced a few months of immobility and healing. We had several consulations of various doctors- all who agreed and supported the decision to go ahead with the realignment surgery and tendon lengthening. They used words like, "Wyndham is a good candiate" and "you should expect her to do very well" and "this is something that's been done before yielding great results, so we expect the same or better for you too". As hesitant and unsure as I was going into these consults, I walked away from them each time certain that Chip and I were making the best decision for Wyndham to have the surgery done. We felt educated and informed. We had asked lots of questions. We had exhausted other less invasive measures for a few years and finally felt like we were at the place where there really was only one best option.

So we went ahead and had her surgery done.

I dreaded it and prayed about it for over a year. I asked God for a miracle. I fully expected that at some point along the way my prayers would be heard. I figured that even right up to the very last set of x-rays taken that the doctors would come back to our room and tell us that they couldn't believe it or explain it but there would be no surgery needed. I fully believed that God wanted to use Wyndham as a real-life miracle in an orthopedic office setting. It seemed an unusual place- but I knew God could do miracles anywhere. That's the way this story went. In my head and in my heart. I wanted nothing more than for Wyndham to avoid the pain and suffering that she would endure. I wanted nothing more than for her to be able to keep going to school and be "just like all the other kids". I wanted her to keep growing and playing and laughing and signing and riding bike like she had been doing so well for the past couple of years. We certainly didn't need her laid-up in double casts. It would never be a "good time" for that. But certainly not just 5 weeks after her new baby brother had been born. That's supposed to be the time for the family to bond and nuture one another and adjust to sleepless nights and just take it all in. Because a new baby brings enough change of its own. We're no rookies in that department either.

So I knew, one year ago, as I danced with Wyndham and tucked her in and then swaddled Teague and nursed him to sleep, that the morning would either bring miracle or hurt. For all of us. Unfortunately, God chose not to heal Wyndham's feet on their own, but instead Chip gave her a nice warm bath, she had to skip breakfast, and then we hugged her and sent her off- with a smile on her face- to have surgery on both of her feet/legs.

Chip called me with an update at one point and said she had all the nurses smiling as she held out her finger for the pulse-ox and she was just being the best patient ever. I imagined that she would be. This was the first time she was hospitalized and not sick. She was as healthy and strong and happy as she'd ever been. Which made it all the harder for me.

I'm sure it was still the pregnancy hormones in my body, but I spent most of that morning in tears. I couldn't shake the feeling that it was the worst thing that I could do as a mom- sign the papers and authorize my little girl to have bone taken from her pelvis and placed in both feet, as well as have her legs cut lengthwise on the back of her calves for her tendons to be lengthened. It was as if I were signing us up for suffering. Her for the physical pain and limitations it would put on her; Chip and me for the added demands and emotional/mental suffering we would feel as we helped nurse for her and give her the care needed to get her back on her feet. I cried because I knew that everyone of us in our family was going to hurt in some way. And I had basically said, "Go ahead... you have my okay."

In my defense, I really feel that even though we asked a hundred questions, and even though the therapists supported us and the physiatrist supported us and recommended her surgeon and even though Wyndham loved her surgeon and we all seemed so confident and ready to get this done, I still feel (looking back a year post surgery) like we were not given the full scope of what the worst-case scenario might be. We were told she would be in double casts up to her knees for 8 weeks. Then she would be in some orthodics- which would be adjusted as she progressed with her rehabilitation. There was never, ever mention that she would be needing a wheelchair one year later. Or more.

That never crossed my mind. We looked at it as suffering and life-style changes that would last through the winter months, but then by spring we would be ready to breathe in the newness of springtime and feel energized and see Wyndham flourish. We never dreamed that things would take a toll on her the way they did. She hardly moved out of her wheelchair for the first 6 months at all. We never dreamed her lack of good progress would take such a toll on our marriage and family dynamics. I guess I thought Chip and I would find a rhythm and things would sort of move along differently. But we are adaptable people. We've lived through traumas and seizures and sort of expected that in taking it one day at a time we would manage the way we always do.

With humor getting us through most of it, and with the light at the end of the tunnel guiding our way. Only this time, there were too many days where none of us laughed. The pain was managable for Wyndham. But beyond that I couldn't help but grow more and more resentful as the progress seemed too slow and the recovery more demanding than any of us had imagined it would be.

I shut myself off from the world. In part because we had a new baby and 4 other kids just doesn't make it convenient to go out and do anything anywhere. But I think I shut myself out and grew a little bit more resentful everyday because truth be told, in my heart and mind we had already paid the price of suffering. And even more than Chip and me, Wyndham had paid more than her fair share of suffering. With each day that we had to lift her out of bed, and with each diaper change that we had to roll her to her side and try to bathe as she lay helplessly looking on or watched her siblings go off to school or play the games they wanted to, it just dug like a knife in my heart.

I've heard a lot about karma the past few years. You know, the idea that what a person puts out into the world is what comes back to them? Well, I believe it to a point. A really tiny one. And then I toss that notion out the window. Why else would there be so many things written about why bad things happen to good people? Or what about natural disasters- they take anyone in their wake. There is no mercy or stopping for people who have meant their quota of good. Sometimes bad just happens.

As I've watched Wyndham's life unfold over more than a decade now, I've only seen from her "good". I mean literally her life was turned upside-down and her chances to put anything out in the world were stripped before she had even sat up on her own. She never even had the chance to say a bad word. She has only shown determination and joy everytime she's had the world turn against her. And there have been a lot of times. Yet somehow, she overcomes. She's a fighter... most often with humor being her method of finding her way back too. She has always had a high pain tolerance and she always manages to be the one that makes me see the light is still there. No matter how dark it's gotten through the years.

In fact, one of the biggest reasons Chip and I have fought to keep our marriage together and have been able to find joy and happiness in life after loss and tragedy is because we have looked at Wyndham (and Brock, and all our other kids too) and we've said we want to keep it together and give them the best that we can in spite of how we feel.

But this year has been different.

I've had to fight with me (follow me here- I'm talking about the me inside of me) because I've blamed myself and felt regret and basically I have tried to figure out why the suffering we've lived with has had to follow us for as long as it has. I truly believe that God is able to change our circumstances. I fully trust Him with all that happens in our lives. So to feel pain for so long and not lose the happiness we worked so hard to get back through the years has just added to the hurt I've carried inside. It's been tough.

I've gone around in circles and tried to figure out what we could have done differently. That never helps anything for me anyway. It just makes me wish for a "do over" and we all know that can't happen. So I feel disappointed too. That even though we've tried our best, it just isn't turning out the way we imagine it to.

One year later.

I've been riding my bike for the past 4 months or so. I average 10 miles each day. I've ridden over 500 miles and in the time it takes to pedal that far I have had a lot of thinking and wrestling and praying along the way. I've pedaled some days out of frustration. I've pedaled some days out of fear. I've pedaled some days out of regret. I've pedaled some days just because I know Teagan never got to ride a big girl bike and Wyndham will never bike alone. So I've biked for them. I've pedaled some days because I can't believe how good I feel. I've sometimes wondered if I'd ever feel "good" again. {The answer is yes!} I've pedaled some days asking God to take all the pain away. I've pedaled on other days thanking Him for being merciful and keeping Chip and me together to bear the burdens and still see beauty rise from them. I've thanked God for giving me the ability to finally let go of needing answers or seeing outcomes that I've predetermined in my own heart and mind. I've pedaled and wondered why He's given me so much when I sometimes act like the biggest baby in my whole family.

One year ago I knew Wyndham was going to wake up and then be taken from her cozy home and the next thing she would find herself throbbing and her legs would be in bright orange casts and her hip would ache, but she would never know why. I am sorry that I let it happen to her. I am sorry one year later that I didn't know better than to say no. I am sorry that I couldn't change the fact that she would be in a wheelchair for a year and give up so much. I am sorry that I couldn't make it better for her. I am sorry I couldn't take away the hurt. I regret that she has suffered and been changed- even though she is content in her chair and doesn't seem to feel pain now. She isn't back to the way she was. She still needs maximum support and aid for so many daily activities.

Chip and I have found as much of a "normal" groove in the past year as we can with her needs and those of 5 other kids. We've only just begun to find our way back to one another. I am still on my way of letting go of why all this has had to happen to us. I am still holding on to the hope that even if God chooses to not reveal the answers to my questions, that I can still trust Him and know that He can work it all for good.

My faith isn't dependent on needing the answers. But it sure depends on knowing the One that has them all. That's the bottom line. It's not about karma. It's not about who has done what and how good or bad it's been. It's not about our energy being worse than another families, and it's certainly not about Wyndham deserving of something bad yet again. It's been a journey, that's for sure.

As you can see from the photos, she IS doing well. We're ALL doing well. In many regards we have nothing to complain about. We have more than we need or deserve. Would we change things if we could... yes. But we are taking things as they come. And Teague is happy to spend time in the chair during the times Wyndham is out of it.

I continue to bike as often as I can and with each passing mile I am feeling more confident that no matter what our family endures, we will come out shining. I can't say that I believe in karma. But I can tell you beyond a shadow of a doubt, I DO believe in overcoming. And if you believe in that, then you most definitely believe in Wyndham. And I believe Wyndham is here because God knows we all need to see what a miracle looks like everyday. I most assuredly believe in those.

...and then he was 3!

A week ago {Sept. 19th} Crew turned 3! It seems like we were just setting up his nursery and getting all the tiny clothes washed and put away in anticipation for his arrival. The next thing I know he is signing "3" and helping to select the cake flavor(s) and then holding the mixer and licking the beaters when the batter is done.

The years really do go by in the blink of an eye- even though some of the days and nights feel like they will never end! Even with having 7 kids, I will never understand the phenomenom behind that truth. We fell in love with Crew and his tiny newborn baby scent back in 2008. He was perfect and warm and squeeky at just the right times. It seems like he grew out of that newborn/baby phase way too quickly and his bright little mind was bent on keeping pace with all his older siblings. There's a 4 1/2 year gap between him and the next in line, Ava, so he had a lot of ground to make up!

I won't sugarcoat it and lie to the world here on my blog. He was a tough cookie- and still is at times- especially when it comes to his strong will and his independent nature. He has wanted to do things his way and on his own since about the 1 year mark. It's only been in the last few months that he is easier to "tame" and also his verbal skills are finally starting to develop and that makes things a bit better for all of us. Knowing that "Bobbie" means he wants to watch SpongeBob helps more than one would think!

I am just so grateful that he is smart, funny, healthy, happy (at least at various times throughout the days) and ready to learn and try new things all the time. Even if it means I've wanted to tear my hair out once in awhile. We're in this together and for the long-haul. Thankfully we have a relationship that was based in love from the very beginning. And love will see us all through!

So, to wrap this up I am going to share some random things I love about Crew being 3:

I love that he can make his own toast. It sort of gives me a small heart attack because I'm not sure what he's up to sometimes, but it makes him proud. Some of my older kids could take cooking lessons from him. Seriously.

I love that he wears Superman jammies and when he wakes up in the morning a lot of times he comes running right to me with his arms wide open ready to give and get a hug. It's a great way to start the day!

I love that he laughs at quirky things. He loves slapstick humor already.

I can't help but love that he gets mad when we tell him he can't drive a car yet. I think he gets that from Ava. She was so upset one day at age 4 that I wouldn't turn over my keys to her that she cried the whole way home from picking up the big kids from school. =)

I love that Crew loves "grown up food" over fast food or junk food, for the most part. He eats cereal/granola for several meals and snacks each week. He especially loves fresh fruit and berries on top. And he insists on pouring the milk on himself, so I give him a little cup of milk that enables him to do it without my help. He won't eat chicken fingers or cheeseburgers, but he does like corn dogs. And toast. See above. =)

I love that he stills gets way too tired and than "crashes" at nap time if/when he takes one. He has a point in the day where he needs a nap so badly, but he fights it just as hard. On the days that he takes one I often get to lay down on his bed and help him calm into sleepmode. I know he's there when he starts twisting his fingers in his hair on the top of his head. Sometimes he even makes little knots.

I love that, even though it makes me feel like I live on a prairie and I'm married to Charles Ingalls, Crew calls me "ma". It's most adorable when he says, "Thanks, Ma!" for whatever it is I happened to get for him at the time.

I love that he makes smiley faces on the driveway with chalk. He loves art time with paints, markers, crayons and LOVES playdough. But he's not so typical in that he hates to get any of it on his hands or clothes. How lucky does that make me?! =)

Okay. One more. I love that he doesn't hold back. Whether it's good or bad, he's in 100%. Which is why I sometimes want to tear my hair out, but I also know that the world holds something amazing for him and he's going to go get it with all of his heart. It might get broken a time or two... but whatever his dream is, he is not going to settle for anything less. There is a lesson in that for all of us. Even if I am a biased mom of a charming 3-year old boy.

Happy birthday to my Crewie as we sometimes call him. I am so glad to be the one to watch you grow, to teach you new things, to see you try and try and try some more, and to share the frosting from the beaters too. My life is forever better because of you! Love, Ma xoxo

Documenting daily life...

I've had a debate in my head for a few weeks now as to keep blogging or not. As you can see, the "not" won out for awhile. =) Sure, life is busy from day to day. Three of the six kids have started back to school; Wyndham is getting more therapy services- which already keep Chip busy running her back and forth to her sessions, and summer is starting to wind down so I am trying to get in as many 10-mile bike rides as I can. It seems like there is always something to cook or clean or pick up... our daily life is routine, but not at the same time.

Even as I wonder whether or not to make note of the "stuff" going on in our lives I realize that this is the kind of stuff that is too easily forgotten. The seasons of life sometimes change so gradually that I hardly notice they've changed until I look back and see that things were once very different.

So here I am again, taking note of the really insignificant, significant details of our life. As it is- right now. With Brock (in 7th grade), Bella (in 4th grade) and Ava (in 2nd grade) in school our home has gotten quieter from 7:45 am until 3:25 pm. When Wyndham is away at therapy sessions I suddenly find myself with just 2 kids at home. Something that is a rarity and makes me think back to when I had Teagan and Brock. Crew and Teague are the exact same ages apart as those two were and it brings back a flood of memories of how that season in my life was very different than it is now. I have found that these two little guys love to play together and are very good in their play kitchen. We save all sorts of products/packages from our real kitchen and they can pretend together for a long time and are very happy at the food they make. I love getting to spend some playtime with them as I know how important it is for kids to get more individual attention.

I am glad I have a spot to "preserve" some of these really mundane activities here on my blog, because I know the years go so quickly and it's too important to not take notice of the little moments. I see how each of my kids is growing and learning and discovering new things. Every day. And new discoveries- no matter how many people have discovered them before you- are always worth documenting. I hope you are finding freshness in your days right now. Breathe it in and savor it. Because tomorrow will be a new day and you might forget just how much you loved today.

What a difference a year makes!

Today our baby of the family turns one! We are so lucky to have such a happy, healthy, rambunctious one year old in our lives. Teague has always been loved by us, but in the past few months he has been able to give a lot of love right back. He's generally a content, but busy, little guy. He loves to play with all his siblings and he loves banging on the All-Clad pots in the kitchen too. He's been climbing up full flights of stairs for 3 months now and has been walking for nearly a month. He is curious and smart and has a love of puppies- even though we don't own a single pet. He has 6 teeth- and although he is great about eating a variety of vegetables most of those teeth like sweets just as much. =)

We have loved watching him become who he is already and look forward to watching him grow and change and become all God designed him to be from one til however old he gets!

Happy Birthday, to our dear Teague. Love and best wishes from your whole family!

They made it more fun!

My parents came for a visit from Minnesota last week and we sure appreciated all they did for us and to help us have a little more summer fun together. With a ratio of two adults to six kids considering the ages and special needs of three of them it's much more manageable to do activities with a couple more helpers. Grandma and Grandpa were more than helpers. They made life more enjoyable and eased some of the daily burdens that tend to weigh Chip and me down so much.

We spent an overnight at a cabin of our friends on Big Star Lake here in Michigan. It was perfect weather and there was a lot to do- including a boat, kayaks, tubing, building sand castles, relaxing and a family outing to the famous Jones' Ice Cream. My parents are so laid-back around our kids and just jump right in playing with them and doing other household projects like defrosting our upright freezer. Like I said... the fun stuff. =)

Chip and I marked our 16th wedding annivesary {on August 12th} and my mom made us a carrot cake- very similar to the one she made for us on our wedding day. I have to tell you this has probably been the hardest year for us on so many levels. More difficult even then the year we had our Old Depot incident. Some days Chip and I wonder how we manage to even stay together. For me it is proof that God exists. He is holding us together when we would rather split our problems in half or just let half the family have some breathing room to feel "normal" at times. I'm thankful for the miracle God keeps doing in our hearts and lives as He keeps us together. I hope we can look back years from now and see just how far we've come. But in the throws of the tough stuff it can be hard to see.

I'm still thankful for Chip sharing his life with me and we love each other to the core. It's just the fun isn't the same kind of fun we used to have and we're trying to live in the moments of wonderful that we do have each day and recognize that we are pretty lucky- evenso.

I think we know it inside.

My parents visit reminded me that we DO have so much to be grateful for. We DO have a lot of fun when we can make it happen and God DOES want to see our marriage through all seasons of our lives. I hope we're eating cake together- as a couple and as a family- for a long, long time.

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. =)