The other day one of the boys shared a dream with me.
He said that he was sitting in our front room, watching something on TV.
Rory was there.
Her feet were up on his lap and they were laughing about something.
Then she started fake crying.
As he was telling me, I froze.
Rory used to fake cry!
I’d forgotten that!
She’s do it as a joke.
Like I said, she always kept on laughing and on our toes.
Oh man.
I’d love to hear that laugh again.
That silly fake laugh.
If Rory’s death was the only struggle our family had to get through for the rest of our lives, it would be enough.
Her death hit each of us, leaving cracks in so many places. I’ve found that pain finds its way into those cracks, spreading into different aspects of our lives.
For Dax, the unexpected crack, the unexpected pain, was gymnastics.
Dax started gym at age 5. He spent the entire summer begging me to do gymnastics.
I thought maybe it was more of a whim, but when it lasted the entire summer, I signed him up in September. One day a week on Thursdays.
After starting gym his first question everyday was, “Is it Thursday?” Then he spent the day doing handstands and cartwheels all over the house.
Because of his love and insistence, I signed him up for Tuesday as well.
In a few months they invited him into the pre-comp team then within a year he was moved up to the competition team.
We were out of our depths and didn’t know what we were getting into until it was too late.
But it never mattered because he LOVED gymnastics.
Fast forward to a few months after Rory’s death.
I was saying goodnight to him in bed and he expressed regret that he spent so much time away from Rory doing gymnastics. And now he doesn’t have anymore.
In the following months, he talked about quitting a few times which was so unusual for him. He stopped doing gymnastics around the house. He hardly ever went to do flips on the trampoline.
But Lance and I kept encouraging him. He found so much joy in gymnastics, we didn’t want him to regret leaving the sport.
The last couple of weeks, he’s been doing handstands all over the house again. He walks from the couch to the kitchen on his hands. Dax annoys Lance by doing handstands right into his face.
It’s made my heart swell to see him loving gymnastics again. I’ve fought back tears seeing his love and passion return.
Rory didn’t love going to the long competitions but she did love to watch Dax do gymnastics at home. She also loved to push her brother out of handstands every once in a while too.
I think she’s happy to see that joy returning to Dax.
I thought I’d share a memory from the more mischievous side of Rory. : )
Rory was quite the busy body. If I didn’t hear her for a few minutes, I knew something was up.
Whether she climbed up into the dryer or into the recycle bin, she always kept my life interesting and kept me laughing.
So much laughing with this girl!
Miss you.
As a family we were reading Romans 8 today.
A verse stuck out to me. Which was already highlighted so must have stuck out to me before.
Verse 18:
“For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.”
What an amazing promise!
The minutes since Rory’s death have been painful.
The days of missing her feel so long.
The years feel overwhelming.
Decades, unfathomable.
Is all of this worth it? Was Paul right that our sufferings will not even compare to the glory we’ll have in the next life?
That’s the hope.
That’s where faith comes in.
Faith that she still lives.
Faith that she’s happy.
Faith that she’s with Jesus Christ.
Faith that we’ll be together again.
Faith that the second I die Rory will be running into my arms.
I day dream about that moment.
Yearn for it.
I don’t know that there is a greater promised blessing than that for me.
My girl. In my arms. Never to be parted again.
In each of the Rory’s Bags of Love we have a special prize.
Rory needed extra help at school and went to resource everyday. There, she worked with so many amazing teachers.
One of the things Rory absolutely loved was earning prizes for her hard work.
Two weeks before she died, she kept telling me she was working toward getting chocolate ice cream.
The week before she died she came home with this chocolate ice cream eraser.
She carried it around with her. Pretended to eat it, licking her lips after each pretend bite.
She loved this prize!
After she died, I carried that eraser in my pocket for weeks.
I carried joy with me, Rory’s joy.
Our hope is that the kids that get these bags will love their little special prizes as much as Rory did.
Joy, I hope they will feel joy.
Rory Ann Moore Foundation 