Tag: family

International Bereaved Mother’s Day

stephaniemoorewrites

To the mom with an extra seat at the table.

To the mom with empty arms today.

To the mom with a vacant seat in the car.

To the mom with a hole in her heart.

To the mom who sobs on their birthday.

To the mom who clings to clothing late at night.

To the mom whose life never quite feels complete.

To the mom who makes it through each hour.

To the mom who holds tighter to those around.

To the mom who loves harder now.

To the mom who falls to her knees.

To the mom who finds strength somehow.

To the mom whose loss seems more than she can bear.

To the mom who stands each day anyway.

To my fellow bereaved mothers. Thank you for sharing your stories. I’m so sorry this is our journey. I see you. I love you. You make me feel less alone.

To those that love and support us. Thank you. Texting, prayers, drop by’s, treats, stories of our child, hugs, they sustain us and provide hope. We love you.

Being Brave, Being Who You Are

stephaniemoorewrites

People felt close to Rory.

If you were to ask me, she was a mama’s girl.

If you were to ask Lance, she was a daddy’s girl.

If you were to ask Chiler, Xander or Dax, each of them would probably say that he was her favorite.

Here’s the thing:

It’s all true.

When she was with one of us, we were the most important person.

In my book club this month, we read Braving the Wilderness by Brené Brown. It made me realize something about Rory and how she was able to do this.

In Braving, Brown says:

“True belonging is the spiritual practice of believing in and belonging to yourself so deeply that you can share your most authentic self with the world and find sacredness in both being a part of something and standing alone in the wilderness. True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are.”

Rory was authentic.

Rory was brave, in that she embraced who she was and just loved people.

It enabled her to engage freely with others.

She didn’t sit back, she put her sweet hands on people’s cheeks and made sure they were present in the conversation as well.

She truly belonged with each of us. And we felt it.

What a gift she gave us.

A place where we always belonged.

The Christmas Story

stephaniemoorewrites

For Christmas, Lance and I got the boys nerf guns. We thought it’d be a fun thing for them to do in the winter months.

After we opened presents, we were all sitting around chatting and we started an impromptu nerf gun war.

It was fun.

For those few minutes I felt freely happy.

Not “put a smile on my face.”

Not hyphenated happy.

Freely happy.

Then I got shot in the eye.

As I laid there holding my eye, I thought, I’m not allowed to be freely happy anymore. That part of my life is obviously done.

If I feel freely happy then it’ll cause physical pain, mental pain, or emotional pain. It’s just not in the cards for me.

I was thinking about it more as I sat in the ER with my mom. Then throughout the rest of the day.

At the end of the night, the seven of us made goals of service and love that we can do throughout this year.

This is mine: to be freely happy with my family.

It’s not an easy goal because if I’m trying, then it’s putting a smile on my face.

Instead, I’m going to try in live in the moment more.

I’m going to put myself in more situations with them that I can let go. That I won’t feel so hyphenated. If only for a few minutes.

I want my boys to have more than a hyphenated mom.

I’m realistic. I don’t think I’ll experience it daily or weekly or probably even monthly. But experiencing it five times in 2019 will be more times than I experienced it this year.

That’s a win.

That’s starting to live a Rory life-loving life.

November

stephaniemoorewrites

November is supposed to be a month filled with gratitude. But the truth about this November was that I wished I could have stayed curled up in my bed.

But since I couldn’t.

So many friends and family members showed up with love. You have been flashlights in our darkness.

Each day this month, different members of our congregation shared a message of something they’re grateful for. It’s been great having visitors nightly. To be reminded of all the wonderful things we enjoy in the world.

Around the anniversary of Rory’s passing, we received messages of love. We were reminded that we’re not mourning alone. Reminded that there are many that love and remember our beautiful Rory.

Among other things, our neighbors tied ribbons around our house, their houses, and light poles. One of my most emotional times is when I’m driving alone. I cry frequently. When I pull into our neighborhood and see the ribbons, I feel like I’m getting a hug. I’m reminded of love and support.

This November, I’m so grateful for friends and family and love and support.

The Love of a Dad

stephaniemoorewrites

After Rory passed away, so many decisions needed to be made.

The hard thing about unexpected death, we had never given a single thought to what we’d do if one of our kids passed away. So, everything is planned in the middle of shock and grief.

I feel very lucky. My dad stepped up those days. He went to the mortuary. He got all the information and did as much as he could.

There was a point that we were talking in the doorway of a bedroom about plans and money.

My dad said, “You will not pay to bury your daughter.”

I remember tears rolling down my cheek.

It wasn’t the money.

I knew no matter what, my dad was going to be there. He was going to help us through this.

He did.

In so many ways. Even when it tore him apart to do it.

Especially with the viewing. He ensured Rory looked perfect.

Down to her imperfectly perfect painted nails.