Tag: grief

So Many Deaths

stephaniemoorewrites

I have a degree in history.

I’ve studied about many wars. Many struggles. Many deaths.

It wasn’t until I started to work at the National Archives and read personal accounts that something became blatantly clear.

These were sons I was reading about.

Daughters.

Fathers.

Mothers.

Sisters.

Brothers.

Uncles.

Aunts.

From that point on as I read about history, it was personal. The people that were dying on the pages meant something to someone else. Probably lots of someone elses.

And since Rory’s death, I’ve taken it one step further.

Their deaths are an empty seat at the table.

At the movie.

In the car.

In the pew at church.

When going on vacation.

Everywhere.

From November 13th, 2017, there will always be someone missing from our family.

I used to feel bad when deaths would occur, now it’s almost debilitating.

These mass shootings.

I can’t even.

So many families.

The sorrow, grief, fear that are taking over their lives.

I hope this isn’t a norm for our future. For my boys’ future.

Something has to change.

Please.

Something has to change.

My heart and love goes out to the victims’ families.

Too many empty seats.

Words that Stay with Me

stephaniemoorewrites

I’ve had so many thoughts and feelings swirling around me this week with no energy to write them down.

My heart is so full when I think about Rory.

I love her so much.

I miss her equally.

I’ve been thinking about the notes she used to leave me.

On thank you cards.

On index cards.

In notebooks.

On hotel notepads.

It was always the same, in her perfectly messy handwriting.

Rory

💜

Mom

Rory doing what she did best, spreading love.

She wrote them so frequently that I threw them away for a long time.

A few months before she died, I got this feeling.

Start saving those notes.

How grateful I am for that inspiration!

They are some on my most precious possessions.

As my life is hard. As I struggle seeing positive. When the future feels bleak.

I have those words.

I know someone is always in my corner.

Rory

💜

Mom

My sweet angel baby girl.

The Lion King

stephaniemoorewrites

We went to see The Lion King on Tuesday and it was like I was 12 again, seeing it with new eyes.

Eyes of my new life.

There were a few moments that stood out to me this time around. But none more than when Rafiki finds Simba again.

Rafiki tells Simba that Mufasa, his father, was alive. He tells Simba to follow him. They race through the oasis until they come to the water’s edge.

Simba stares down at a reflection of himself. He’s disappointed. He wants to be with his father again.

Then Rafiki tells him, “Look harder… you see, he lives in you.”

It made me wonder, as I look into the mirror, who else is staring back at me?

My Grammy was so smart. She was such a vivacious reader.

Does that part of her shine out of me?

My Grandma battled so many physical ailments without complaint and fought for her ability to stay on this earth. She was strong.

Does that part of her shine out of me?

My Grandpa knew what he wanted and asked for it. He was assertive.

Does that part of him shine out of me?

My Granny was a caretaker. She took care of all those that came into her life.

Does that part of her shine out of me?

My Grandma Smiley has the most amazing laugh. It was a high-pitched giggle. She spread joy wherever she went.

Does that part of her shine out of me?

My Rory. She loved widely and had an optimistic outlook on life. Even when life wasn’t easy.

Does that part of her shine out of me?

I don’t look in the mirror and see all those characteristics in myself. But it does give me something to work toward.

Amazing people that left before me.

I hope part of them lives inside of me.

Blaming God

stephaniemoorewrites

I was talking to my son the other day. He told me how he felt guilty about Rory’s death. That he should have done more.

Then he expressed that he wanted to be angry at God and blame Him for Rory’s death.

I said, “Do it. Blame Him for a while.”

Heavenly Father didn’t say only come to me when you’re happy.

Only pray to me when you’re in a good place.

Only seek me out when you have all the answers.

No.

He said come to me for comfort.

Pray to me when you’re struggling.

Seek me when you have questions.

I believe our Heavenly Father would love to take that blame and guilt away from my son. God would be happy to hold that for him until he’s able to forgive himself and heal as much as he can.

God’s love is unconditional.

That love will survive the anger we feel when we’re thrown into things we don’t understand. When we’re just barely getting by.

That love will be there when we find happy again.

I think He wants to be there for us through all of it.

Ultimately, my son doesn’t feel like he can blame God.

After all, He’s been where we’re at.

He watched His Son die.

Rory Ann Moore Foundation

stephaniemoorewrites

A week after Rory died, we stumbled through Thanksgiving.

Two weeks after that, we limped through a move across town.

Two weeks after that, we crawled through Christmas.

By the time New Years hit, we were face first on the floor.

I lifted my head long enough to see the longest, coldest month ahead of us, with Rory’s birthday at the end.

The first birthday without her.

How were we going to get through this month?

This was going to be unbearably painful.

Lance and I talked about a lot of ideas. What we decided on was to do a service project that would end on her birthday.

I made calls and sent emails and we decided to do a service project with Primary Children’s Hospital.

We collected toys.

We made wands.

We collected crafts and bubbles.

We knew that Rory loved other kids and would want to make them smile.

We wanted to honor that sweet love.

That is the reason behind the Rory Ann Moore Foundation we created.

We wanted to remember her.

We want to spread her love.

We want to bring the joy to others that Rory readily provided in our lives.

If you want to learn more about the Rory Ann Moore Foundation, the link is here: https://writingthroughgrief.com/rory-ann-moore-foundation/

In the few days we have been accepting donations, we’ve been overwhelmed with your love and support.

We miss Rory with every fiber of our beings. Thank you for helping us remember her and honor the funny, kind, silly, loving girl she was.