Memory- Rory’s Crooked Toes

I’ve been having Rory memories pop into my mind the past week. I laugh and smile thinking of her. Then I cry. Well, bawl.

I’m happy to share one.

I was thinking about Rory’s funny toes.

They were zany, just like her.

Her toes were completely uneven.

I remember playing with them when I nursed her.

I always wondered if her toes will flatten out when she started walking.

They didn’t.

Then my thoughts went to the last time I held her feet in my hands.

Within the hour of her dying.

I rubbed her feet as she watched Angry Birds on TV.

I held onto them.

I miss those crooked toes.

They were attached to one of the most precious human beings I had the privilege to hold in my arms.

Messy Faces- Rory Edition

While anxiety would attack Rory every once in a while, for the most part she lived her life free.

She was happy.

Carefree.

She gobbled up so much joy that at times it was all over her face.

Time is a Thief

It’s often said that “time heals all wounds.”

I think most grieving people would say that heals is a strong word.

It’s an open wound. For the rest of my life.

But I’d also say that even time has mixed reviews.

As time passes it might be easier to get through the day to day. I’m sure it’s gotten easier. I can’t really recognize it as there are still a lot of sad days.

But time is also a big, fat thief!

Yes, big.

Yes, fat.

It eats memories.

It steals the way her hands once felt on mine.

It steals the exact way she laughed.

It steals away the exact way she used to skip across the field.

It eats remembrances.

As those memories begin to fade, the longer she’s away, the more I hate time.

I hate time because she’s not here.

I hate time because it just keeps going.

Why is it still going?

But I’m also grateful for it.

In the time since Rory passed my twins have grown taller than me.

They started high school.

They went to their first dance.

They take leadership roles in our family.

Since Rory’s passing, Dax turned 12 and was given the priesthood at our church.

Dax has competed in another season of gymnastics and learned more amazing skills.

He’s getting ready to graduate elementary school.

While time is taking memories of one, the other three keep growing, developing, and turning into amazing men.

I both love and hate time. All in one moment.

Talking About Rory

One of the things people say to me is that they’re unsure if they should bring Rory up in a conversation.

I understand the hesitation. People don’t want to cause me more grief.

I love Rory.

I miss Rory.

For me, I want to talk about her. Share her love. Share her funny stories.

IF it comes up naturally, then please ask me, let me share a little something about her.

If you had a memory come to mind. If you dreamt about her. If you felt her to close. Please share that with me. It tells me that she’s remembered. It tells me that Rory is still around, loving those she loved in life.

Here’s the caveat. There’s a good chance I’m going to cry. Happy memories. Sad memories. Hard memories. Lovely memories.

Talking about her makes me happy but also makes me miss her.

So don’t be scared of my tears. Don’t think you caused me more grief.

The grief is always there.

But for a few minutes I got to think about, talk about, this amazing little girl.

That I miss.

That I love.

Facebook Memories

As I was laying in a Las Vegas hotel room, this Facebook memory came up.

Two years ago.

In the same city.

Our lives were very different.

We had this small ceremony with just our family and Lance’s and my parents.

It was perfect for her.

Intimate.

Beautiful.

She was funny in that she wanted all the attention but also none of the attention.

She wanted full one-on-one attention but too many eyes on her or a stranger talking to her and she was hiding behind my leg.

I miss that silly smiling face.

That amazing girl.

I miss all those smiling faces.

Two years.

So much has changed.