Monthly Archives: March 2015

One year ago….


One year ago. This phrase has been ringing in my head for the past few months. How will I feel on the anniversary? What can we do to remember him? How can I say thank you and be gracious to the thousands who mourned, prayed, loved, and supported us?

Tomorrow marks one year since I have seen my sweet, loving, first born child for the last time. Zachary was the light of my life. He made me a mother on October 1, 2007. He gave me unconditional love from day one. He was always there with a hug or witty remark. He was my son and I was his mom. The simple things in life really are the best.

We went through it all together. He was my best friend when I needed it most. Now, he is gone.

The days that followed our last moments together are a blur to me. I remember moments in time. Feeling confused, the pain, the breathing tube, unable to speak, unable to move,  and all through that all I wanted was my life back. Just to go home. Just to see my kids and John. Just the simple things again.

I was in a coma for 20 days. I was not there to see my son laid to rest. I never said my final words.

I was there to see him be joyful about his glasses on our last day together.

I was there when he took his first breath.

I was there at every moment in his life.

Every day.

Every lunch I packed.

Every boo boo I kissed.

Every bath time.

Every bedtime snuggle.

Every “one more kiss/hug/drink”

I was there.

Why did I missed his last?

Was it God’s grace and ultimate wisdom to shield me from that moment? I knew when I woke up on Easter Sunday fully alert that he was gone. No one had told me that he had died. No one had too. I felt it. I knew that in some way I had said my goodbyes to him in another place. I knew and felt it in my heart.  It didn’t make it any easier in the days, weeks, months to come. I was broken physically and emotionally.  How could I ever live without a part of my heart? I made the decision to fight for my sweet daughter, Grace, who just lost her brother. He would want me to be the best mom to her as I had been for him. I made it my misson to have a small goal each day and meet that goal. Starting with breathing on my own, eating, talking, sitting on the side of the bed, tolerating sitting in a wheelchair and on and on. To live again. To be her mom.

Now, a year later, I am healing physically. After a lot of goal setting, sweat, pain, aggravation, and exhaustion, I am making it back to the mom I was. The one who is there everyday for all the small stuff for her. It’s a struggle someday but it is the most rewarding struggle when I can just do one more thing with her.

Tomorrow marks Zachary’s first heavenly anniversary. I will visit the place where his body is laid. I will bring flowers and candles. I will sing to him.  I will be there at 4 pm  when we fell from Chuckanut Drive and this horrible story began.

We will meet with family and friends to remember him through lighting candles on facebook, singing “This little light of mine”, doing kind deeds for others, making build a bears, sharing our favorite pictures or stories and meeting to celebrate his little life that left an echo into eternity.  His life was important to me. I am his mom to infinity and beyond.

Thank you God for the time we had with him. I needed him here with me. I pray for just one moment more but that would never be enough. Thank you for giving me the gift of motherhood and a little Grace in my life to love. Thank you for showing me that people can support you through the worst times of your life.

Thank you for Zachary.

Home: Where the heart can heal and grow

We have the keys to our new house now. We celebrated the new chapter of our life together and walked through the new beautiful place where new memories will be made. Grace was so excited. She literally ran from room to room with her ecstatic  high pitched voice. We were all so happy.

Then she said, “I don’t want to move from my home!”

It made me stop and think. The house is a new start to make a home again.  Our family will never be whole without  Zachary. However, happiness still has a chance to grow and be beautiful  as we remember him in our hearts. I have been so focused on his things. How can I give away his things? The better question is why can’t I do it?  Possessions don’t hold his soul, but they do hold memories. Like his his army uniform, he was so proud and adorable. The clip on ties, the superhero  t shirts,  the shoes, the stuffed animals, and on and on.

We went through it all this morning while we packed up his bedroom. 8 bags for donation, 2 boxes to keep, 1 to be remade into a memory quilt. We cried together. Laughed together. We did it together. The hardest moment was seeing his kindergarten backpack in his closet. John wasn’t prepared for it. The storm trooper backpack that he had to have. The little bus tag with his bus route on it as all kindergarten kids need to get them safely home. The school folder with his homework still in it. He had made a special trip to his favorite store, Hero’s Resources, to get it. Our little man’s first big backpack. This should have gone to school with him that next week but, it didn’t.

The process of going through his things was hard but therapeutic. Being with his spirit and memory is always a comfort to my heart. These things were his. He was mine for just for 6 years and 6 months when I could hold him, kiss him, tickle him and watch him play and sleep. Now, I can’t see or touch him but, I can feel him.

He will always be part of our home and our family.