I was out of town when she was born. I don't remember where we were. I've tried to think it through over and over again. I'm not sure if it was just a family trip or maybe something with youth group? I just remember trying to figure out a plan to be there when she was born, or maybe just being excited to help when Kristi came home.
I wish I could remember who told me that her collar bone had broken during labor. Did Dean get it in a group text? I wish I could remember if it was Kristi's voice that told me.
I do remember walking outside to talk to Robert so my kids wouldn't hear me cry. I was hoping to get details from him, but I ended up just sobbing and saying I'm sorry a lot. I was sorry I wasn't there. I was sorry that it was happening. Sorry that I didn't know what to say. I just know that was the first time I cried over her cancer.
I remember praying with some of the best people in my little living room. Not just once. So many prayers.
Constantly being reminded of the hope of Heaven.
She said it the first week of hearing of her sickness, and she said it over and over again for the next years. "I am confident my Father will heal me. It just might not be here on the earth."
Oh, she hurt. She was so pitiful walking. But, she still smiled and carried on like it was not a big deal.
I'm so modest, and she just never was. I remember helping her get dressed, and her giggling as I turned my head as I tried to help her with her pants. OK, we both laughed. A lot. I might've left her pants half up because I needed to guffaw a bit. Her hand was on me so she wouldn't fall, but laughing over our differences.
Her hair started falling out quickly after the first treatments of medicine. She was so lovely and cute.
The four years of cancer were beautiful. They were so full of hope and joy. We all experienced so much grace and depth. When I say we I mean all that were surrounding her. Friends and family.
It was a roller coaster that was constantly moving me closer to Heaven too.
I wish I could say that it's been sweet and joyful since she's been gone. I wish I could say that it's been rosy and lollipops.
There has been depth and sorrow. Looking back at the last few months I do see that it's beautiful. I've read poems and so much literature about how winter is beautiful. How there is growth and life even when the trees and earth look bare.
I miss her. It's been eight months, and I miss her counsel. I miss her reaction to my silliness. I miss the look she would give when she was would gently ask these questions to figure out what I was thinking. She was so great at loving me.
But.
Hey, listen.
Because, my life is changing.
There is dancing even in the mourning.
I've seen my two big kids sweat that gross sportsy sweat. Andrew is playing football. He says he's living his dream. Grace is so ready to be a great volleyball player that it is making her crazy to not be the best player ever.
This season is about to change dramatically. I'm trying not to be scared. I promise. I'm terrified of my inadequacies far more than I was ever afraid of cancer.
I'll be serving tatertots and chocolate milks to not only the Casey girls and my Abigail, but also my big kids and my littlest one at Chilton Christian Academy.
The people there are full of kindness and are already loving on my kiddos.
Andrew experienced his first "good game" pat on the fanny, and wasn't expecting it.
Grace giggles every time she tells me she's a a hitter for the team.
Abigail does a happy dance every time we talk about school starting.
Joe. Well. He's excited about his new backpack and shoes.
My amazing friends and family have given me the sweetest support, and are constantly reminding me of hope.
I'm worried about balancing life. I know I'm going to be the mom that forgets the details. Mouth guards, cups, homework, knee pads, spelling words, homework, homework, HOMEWORK!
Nine days until school starts.
But, today I remember the day everything I believed about sickness, cancer, death, Heaven, healing, friendship, hope, sorrow, fear, mourning...I remember the day that my thoughts on all of that started to shift and change.
