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CPR

stephaniemoorewrites
Thank you, Allison Morgan, for teaching me and our girls.

One of the questions I get when people hear my That night story is, “How did you know CPR?”

The first time I was asked, my thought was, doesn’t everyone? CPR has just been a part of my life since I was 12.

In our church young women from ages 12-18 go on a camp out every summer. Part of the certification process is learning CPR and first aid. So every summer, I’d get a refresher course in CPR.

Then when I was 23 and pregnant with the twins, Lance and I got CPR certified. We wanted to make sure we knew how to do first aid on infants. It’s different than with adults.

After that I spent a few years working with the young women of our church and so every summer I got a refresher course of how to perform CPR.

Things change slightly. Like how many compressions before you give breath but the motions have pretty much stayed the same.

My compressions. My breath. Didn’t save Rory’s life That night.

But I know I did everything I could.

If you don’t know CPR, learn it. You never know what life is going to bring.

No Big Decisions

stephaniemoorewrites

They say not to make big decisions the first year after a tragedy. It could lead to emotional and sometimes non rational, bad choices.

In my everyday life, I run things by Lance all the time. Am I overreacting? I have a hard time trusting my feelings. And other times Lance asks to read emails before I send them. 😂

In terms of our life, I’d say that more things are different than are the same. We’ve had to keep adapting. We still have hurdles that are in our path and we have to decide how to handle them.

The problem with the no big decisions after a tragedy idea is that the event fundamentally changes you.

Rory’s passing changed my emotions.

It changed my family dynamic.

My thoughts.

My plans for the future.

And my plans for right now.

We just keeping crawling over the hurdles, these big decisions, we find in our path. Then fall down on the other side.

But we’re making it over them. I hope.

Big decision for the Moore Family this week: the boys are switching schools.

A Cruise Memory

stephaniemoorewrites

I’ve missed Rory so much the last couple of day, I need to share a memory.

In May 2016 we went on a two week transatlantic cruise with our kids. It was amazing! We got to spend a lot of quality time together that’s beyond priceless now.

One of Rory’s favorite things to do was stand by the buttons in the elevator and ask people, “What floor?”

One time she came back from kids club with the boys and she had a dollar bill.

She was in the elevator pushing buttons for people and someone gave her a tip.

She was the cutest bellhop.

Joy and Grief

stephaniemoorewrites

Pendulum

I’ve heard this concept explained in a few different ways but my favorite is the visual of the pendulum.

On one side there’s extreme joy.

On the other extreme grief.

Then in between are various levels of grief and joy.

When one experiences great joy with a person, when that person is gone, great grief is felt.

I experienced extreme joy with Rory. Which then leaves me with extreme grief.

Would I be willing to give up the joy I had with her to now lessen the pain I’m in?

Would I give up the daily kisses and hugs that made me feel special?

Would I give up the hilarity of watching her try out new dance moves?

Would I give up the comfort of her morning cuddles?

Would I give up the extreme pride I felt when I watched her conquer her anxiety?

Would I give up the funny faces she would make with me at church?

Would I give up making her my buddy for those years? Taking her everywhere?

Each of those make the pendulum tip a little higher.

That girl.

She brought extreme joy to our lives. Her absence has left extreme grief.

But I’ll take the grief.

I’ll live with it for the rest of my life. Because it meant that she was part of it.

Part of me.

You Gotta Have Faith

stephaniemoorewrites
Me about Rory’s age when she passed.

I enjoy reading other people’s Facebook posts. I like to see happy. I like to see the good and the fun going on with my friends and family. It’s hopeful.

Sometimes when I see these posts they’re framed with the idea that God is good. They’re expressing their gratitude to God and love for their life.

It makes me wonder.

If their life suddenly turned into something like my life, would their love and gratitude remain? Would they still proclaim, “God is good?”

It makes me wonder.

Do I express my love and gratitude? Do I still say, “God is good?”

When I was about the age Rory was when she passed away, I started grappling with the idea of Heavenly Father’s love for me. I had faith in my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ but I couldn’t understand why They would send me down here to fail.

I had this feeling that I would never be good enough.

It sent me on a soul search for over a decade.

What I realized as I studied, thought, and prayed is that God is love.

He’s absolute love.

When I read the New Testament about the life of Jesus Christ, He is love.

My Heavenly Parents and Jesus Christ loved those people.

I’ve felt Their love for my family. My parents. My husband. My kids. My friends. Those I serve.

I felt Their love for me. By faith. And it was a hard earned personal revelation. But it’s the cornerstone that’s sustained me these last few months.

Love. God sacrificed His son for me. For all of us. Jesus Christ suffered for me. For all of us.

My love for Rory is probably less than 1/100th of Their love for me. For all of us.

And I love Rory a whole lot.

While my life is more painful, that love hasn’t changed. They haven’t forsaken me.

I don’t understand it.

I don’t necessarily love my life as much right now I’m grateful for it.

I have Faith.

I have hope.

I know I’m not walking alone.

That enables me to take my next footstep.

It helps me to still say, “God is good.”