Tag: hard things

Chocolate Milk and Regrets

stephaniemoorewrites

Rory loved chocolate milk.

She wanted to drink it so often we bought Nesquik mix so she would have extra vitamins and minerals.

The day she died she asked me for chocolate milk.

Is there a worse thing for someone who’s throwing up to drink???

I said, “The second you’re better I will get you chocolate milk. The real kind from the store.”

Ugh.

I wish I would’ve given her the chocolate milk.

I’m so sad she missed the opportunity to have one last sip of the drink she loved so much.

If I could give people advise from this new life, one would definitely be to live as closely as you can to no regrets.

It was something I learned my first semester at college and I took it to heart. I wasn’t perfect. I’ve made lots mistakes, but I try so hard to live with no regrets.

Tomorrow isn’t promised.

Take the opportunities that speak to you.

Make time for love.

Watch a show you might not like if it means you get to spend a couple more hours with your loved one.

Don’t wait to make the perfect batch of cookies when you feel like you need to visit someone. Just go.

Tell people you love them. Frequently.

Give compliments freely.

Whether we live to 80 or 8, life is too short.

Spread all the love you can.

With no regrets.

Beautiful Quilt, Sad Realization

stephaniemoorewrites

When my sister-in-law, Rachel, came for Rory’s funeral she offered to make a quilt with Rory’s clothes.

It was an amazing offer.

Because of the move, ready or not, we were going to have to go through Rory’s clothes and possessions.

We had to decide what to keep, what to giveaway.

So, sending her clothes to a different state with a beloved aunt felt fine.

She called me with updates. She shared moments of love and tears as her and her friend labored over the quilt.

Within a few months Rory’s clothes were back with us in quilt form.

She did such an incredible job. It surpassed any expectation I ever had.

I touched her clothes.

Laid my head down on them.

The thought came to me.

“How is this all I have left of my daughter?”

She was vibrant.

Vivacious.

And spirited.

Now, there were things.

Clothes, toys, hair brush.

And memories. So many memories of this loving girl.

But there would be no more hugs.

No more loves.

No more giggles.

No more hand holds.

How is that possible?

How is this all I have left of my daughter?

Deaths from Unknown Causes Get Investigated

stephaniemoorewrites

The night Rory died.

The ambulance and paramedics arrived.

They relieved me from the chest compressions.

One of the paramedics pulled me aside and asked for details of the situation.

I said, “I don’t know. She was throwing up. That’s it. I don’t know.”

He asked about fever or any other symptoms.

“No. She was throwing up. Then she went limp in my arms.”

He left me and joined the rest of the paramedics who were busy trying to save my daughter.

Then more uniformed officers arrived. Police included.

A policeman pulled me aside and asked similar questions.

I said again.

I don’t know. I don’t understand. She was throwing up. That’s it. Throwing up. I don’t know. I don’t understand what happened.

He followed up. “Why was she in the garage?”

“I tried to get her to the emergency room. Then I realized it was too late so I laid her down and called 911.”

Then after time of death was called, we went to my parent’s house. While we were there I had multiple people tell me that our ecclesiastical leader, who was also a lawyer, was watching over our house while people were there.

I just kept saying okay.

After a long night of conjecture and questions, a police officer stopped by the next day.

He knew why Rory died.

He said something like this. As police officers we’re trained to look for the worse case scenarios all the time. We have to look for things that are out of place. And investigate.

Then he followed it up with, he didn’t have to go there with our situation.

He was so sorry for our loss. She died of appendicitis.

It took me until that moment to realize it.

They had been investigating me for Rory’s death.

I understand it.

I do.

But it was and is a sobering thought.

I would’ve given almost anything for her to have survived that night.

That Feeling After Death

stephaniemoorewrites

I’ve been thinking a lot about death experiences people have shared with me. What they experienced when they died or had a near death experience.

A few have described being above their bodies. They talked about knowing what happened the minutes after they died.

Did Rory see me fight for her?

Did she see me do everything I could possibly do to keep her on the Earth?

Was she aware of the bargaining that was going on?

Take me. Not her.

Did she stay long enough to see family and friends gather around her?

Hoping for her. Praying for her.

Was she there when I ran my finger down nose for the last time in the ambulance to say goodbye?

The unknowns can be rather painful.

But one of the consistency in almost all of the stories was a feeling of peace.

She was experiencing peace.

She is at peace.

It’s a mantra I repeat over and over again in my head. Many times a day.

She’s okay.

She’s happy.

She’s at peace.

Lance’s Birthday

stephaniemoorewrites

It’s this dudes birthday today. Happy birthday, Love.

Birthdays aren’t easy anymore. They’re reminders of lost years and the gaping hole.

But I’m so glad you were born.

I’m lucky to be your wife and best friend.

Since Rory died, life feels long.

It feels shorter walking next you.

Love you.