Jun 2, 2014


April 4, 2014

Yesterday the man from the funeral home called.

Hannah's head stone had been set. It was news I celebrated because I was so excited to see her head stone but news I knew I'd have to mourn because it was so final. It was the forever mark that our little girl is really gone.

I got in my car a few minutes later as work ended and I cried.

There is something so heartbreaking about knowing I am driving to the cemetery. It's still so very odd that we have a reason to drive there. I miss my girl. I miss her so much, going to that cemetery reminds me that she was real and that we really did lose her. The cemetery really is one of the best places I can mourn, there and her room. I feel a little bit closer to her for some reason and so I think I can sit by myself and miss her in a way I can't when I'm distracted by other things.

But it is good. I'm so very blessed that she has a head stone, that there is a place that says she was real. She wasn't just a wish or hope we had, she was our daughter and all of that, the nightmare and the joy, that really did happen.

When I pulled up I saw Hannah's grave. I cried and ached for her. I told the Lord of my deep heartache. Still there is only dirt where she lays. The grass has not yet had time to grow over. It reminds me that time has passed, but not that much.

I stood there and I remembered. For some reason the worst memories always flood my mind first. The moment we found out she was gone, the way it felt to give her away, the coming home to such an empty room that had once been filled with such expectation.

But then, and it usually takes some direction, I remember the good things. I remember when she used to kick. I remember when she did things that made both me and Kyle laugh. I remember the awkward pregnancy moments that she created that made us smile. I remember seeing her and holding her for the very first time, my proudest moment, by far. Someone asked me not too long ago 'what has been the best moment of your life?' and of course holding her immediately came to mind.

And then I was proud. Standing there looking at a head stone like someone watches their child's first steps or their teenager's high school graduation or the moment their daughter walks down the aisle. I stood there so very proud of my little girl and I remembered all that she had done for the glory of the Lord.

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