Rory’s Birthday = Kid’s Day

After Rory’s death, we were quickly confronted with what to do on her birthday.

How do we celebrate Rory, without her?

We did a service project with help from family and friends and donated toys to Primary Children’s Hospital.

Then we also got each of the boys a present and said, “Happy Kid’s Day!”

Our day hasn’t changed much from that first year.

We do some sort of service and we celebrate Kid’s Day.

We wanted activities we could continue to do as the boys grew up, moved away, and had kids of their own.

Our hope is that someday as we celebrate Kid’s Day with our boys’ children, we can say,

“This is in honor of your Aunt Rory. She was a pretty dang awesome girl! Let me tell you a story about her.”

Daily Grief Cycles

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.



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.


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.

Rory Ann Moore Foundation

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:

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.

Mother’s Day

This picture was taken by Mrs. Williams, her first grade teacher. She believed in Rory. She took this after Rory got a 100% on her final spelling test, correctly spelling all 175 words. Thank you, Natalie!

I believe strongly that it takes a village to raise kids.

As parents we do all we can for them.

But there are times they need people outside of us.

Grandma, aunts, cousins, neighbors, moms of friends, teachers, doctors, fellow church members, etc.

This group of people have made such a huge impact on my children.

I am eternally grateful for people that love my kids.

I’m grateful for people that reach out to them, that take time to get to know them.

Rory was in a unique situation that she got to know a lot of adults in her life. She had so many classroom parents that loved her. The school secretaries had a special relationship with her. Almost all of her teachers expressed how much they loved her.

I’m so grateful for the people that took the time to love her.

To all the women out there that love my kids.

Thank you.

I love you.

I need you.

Happy Mother’s Day.

My Hope Because of Him

The week after Rory’s death, there were so many hard things.

One of the most painful was her viewing. Seeing my baby girl. Lifeless.

I took her precious hand between mine for the last time. Her hands that touch my cheeks. Her hands that picked up and loved baby chicks. Her hands that wrapped around my leg when she was scared. Her hands that wrote her name and mine.

But she was empty.

There was no light.

Her spirit was gone.

The girl that beamed and was full of life, was a shell.

But this is where we welcome the hope of Easter.

Our Savior was crucified and His body lay in a tomb.

His body, a shell of the amazing man He once was. His hands that performed miracles. His hands that washed disciples’ feet. His hands that held up children. His hands that brought people to Him. His hands used in service and love.

His hands that are still scarred from the sacrifice He made for me and you.

When Mary went to the tomb on Sunday morning, His body was gone.

His body and spirit were reunited.

Giving me hope.

Rory’s body won’t remain lifeless.

Her body and spirit will be reunited again.

Our Rory will be whole.

Because of Him.