Tag: anniversary

Daily Grief Cycles

stephaniemoorewrites

The five stages of grief have been on repeat that last couple of days.

It looks something like this:
This isn’t my life.

Are you kidding me that this is my life? There’s nothing fair or right about it!

Well, God, let’s just bring her back. I promise to not unlearn all that I’ve learned.

She’s not coming back. I’m going to live the rest of my life without my daughter. Why am I still living?

It’s going to be okay. Keep stepping. Keep doing what you’re doing. You’ve got your boys to get through all this.

Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance

Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance

Over and over again. I don’t always hit every step. But the range of emotions are just all day long.

I consider myself quite the expert on playing mind games. Resetting my brain when it gets into an unhealthy pattern.

These last few days, it’s just felt impossible. I could say it’s lack of sleep, conflict, hormones, or politics.

But the truth is: Rory should be turning 12 in a little over a week. I’m staring down another birthday without her.

Twelve.

My baby would be twelve on February 6th.

Every birthday without her guts me. But this one, we would have had a fun year of celebrating new things with her. Moving up into the youth program at church, graduating elementary school, and embracing her true preteen drama.

My body physically aches for those experiences with her.

Then I go through the stages again. Luckily for me, the last step ends with hope and propels me into action.

My life has a purpose and it’s to love. And I recognize that purpose because Rory was born. And she was mine.

Reminders of Rory

stephaniemoorewrites

There are times that it feels like Rory existed in a different life.

We moved just a couple of weeks after she died.

So she never walked these halls.

She never had a room in this house.

She didn’t color on any walls.

She didn’t potty train, read stories, or play games here.

When I look around, there are no Rory memories.

She never set her sweet feet in this house.

A couple of months ago one of her socks fell out of one of her boxes in the basement.

I couldn’t bring myself to put it away or even move it.

It’s a reminder.

She was real. She was ours. We were whole.

We’re speeding (sometimes crawling!) toward the third anniversary of her death.

Three years.

That’s no time. And a lifetime.

I miss that girl! My soul yearns for hers.

I’m eager for the days that this life and our other life combine and we can be one again.

Loss Can Happen So Quickly

stephaniemoorewrites

My thoughts have been on the New Zealand volcano eruption.

Most of the deceased were on a cruise.

They’d saved up their money.

Excitedly told their family about the new adventure they would be going on.

Hopefully they hugged their loved ones. Then probably told them, “See you in 12 days.”

While cruising, they embarked on a tour, to see something new, to see a volcano.

And life will never be the same for any of them.

Or for their loved ones.

My heart breaks for their families.

Life can change so quickly.

It can go from high to low in ten beats of the heart.

Part of me wants to hold onto my men and huddle in a shelter.

But we know too well that loss can happen when you’re sitting at the feet of a loved one, watching and caring for her.

Lance and I will be on that boat, on that cruise, in 80 days.

Part of me is ready to hand in my ticket.

I can’t go!

Look at that loss!

What about my boys?

So, what do I do?

All I can think of is to take every moment I can and make it count.

Lance and I will be celebrating 20 years of marriage. And we made BIG plans.

We’re traveling to destinations we’ve dreamed about visiting together. And making it happen.

I don’t want to live in fear.

I want to live.

But I promise we will not be visiting any volcanoes.

A Move Right After Loss

stephaniemoorewrites

I’ve had a lot of thoughts swirling about Rory’s death two years ago.

We’re approaching two years.

It’s like a different lifetime she was with us.

But also like I held her in my arms yesterday.

Time is weird.

We sold our house and bought a house three days before she died.

The house we were buying wasn’t in the area we were initially looking. And we kept saying but… And looking around again. And again.

In the end, we just kept being led to this community, this house.

Before we even moved, our Bishop contacted the Bishop of the church we were moving to across town.

With that call, we had people mourning with us, loving us, praying for us.

People that didn’t know us.

When we moved in, we were surrounded by love. Visits, hugs, baskets, dinners.

People we were meeting for the first time.

People that never had the opportunity to know our Rory.

They cried with us. They prayed with us. They held our hands through the hardest times in our lives.

Is this not the epitome of Christ-like love?

I’m so grateful my Heavenly Father knew what we were going to need.

He was aware of us.

He knew the love and patience we would need to be surrounded by.

He knew that we would need to love and serve ourselves.

He knew.

He knows.

He hasn’t forgotten us.

Not me.

Not you.

May you all feel surrounded by His love whether your life is shattered or it’s the happiest day of your life.

He loves each of us. Always.

Anniversary

stephaniemoorewrites

Today, Lance and I have been married for 19 years.

Marriage is fun.

Marriage is hard.

Marriage gave me an amazing partner for life.

Marriage has given me a partner to fight with for the rest of my life.

Marriage has taught me love.

Forgiveness.

Understanding.

Patience.

Gratitude.

Our marriage brought us four incredible children.

These 19 years haven’t been smooth sailing.

Life hasn’t turned out the way we thought it would 19 years ago when we said yes.

But I’m a better person today because of Lance.

I’m grateful everyday that Heavenly Father put Lance in my path.

I can’t imagine getting through this new life without him.

Love you, babe.