Thankful and Grateful and Surrounded by Love

Brent and I have spent the last year dealing with the fallout of an event that we never expected to experience. We never saw it coming, but it came and we were left with the silent aftermath. Here is the thing about grief so intense it brings you to your knees, eventually you raise your head and you look up and what do you see? You see your people, your tribe.

They are the ones that pick you up off the ground (sometimes quite literally) and help you get back on your feet.

They are the ones that remember Hannah, speak her name and let us know that her brief life touched theirs.

They are the ones that understand how hard holidays are and ask how we are doing and if we are ok.

They are the ones that stood by our side despite the fact that we forget their birthdays or other important dates.

They are the ones that don't mind us cancelling plans because we  just can get up the courage to leave the house that day.

They don't judge us for the pony tail, no make-up, wrinkled clothes look.

They are the ones that stand in an empty nursery and cry with me because life is just so cruelly unfair sometimes.

They are the ones that try to distract me from the pain. Even if it means shopping cart races though Target - Christina, Brooke, Sam and Katie I am totally looking at you here.

They are the people that stand by my side, and listen to my heartbreak without judgment, without unrealistic timeframes for healing.

I am grateful for my people. I don't know what the last year would have looked like without all of you, but I know it would have been so incredibly lonely without you.

A Thank You

I can't believe a whole year has passed since we last held Hannah. It's been wildly fast and tortuously slow at the same time. On one hand, passing the one year mark is a relief. Now we can officially say those awful "first" milestones are done! No more first Christmas, first Easter, or the worst, first Mother's Day. We got through it all and we are still standing. True, some days we stumble, but we still stand.

Then again, passing the one year mark makes Hannah feel so very far away. Slipping further from our daily lives with each passing day.

The day before the anniversary of her death, we had a carefully chosen group of local friends over for a balloon release to pay tribute to Hannah and to the people who have been amazingly supportive during this crazy year. (Again, I stress local. There are so many friends who live far away that have shown their support time and time again and I would NEVER want to leave you guys out of this tribute! Patti, Becca, Ami, Jenny, Martha, Pam just to name a few. And I know I am leaving more out than I am mentioning but Baby Elvin #3 is sucking all the brain power from me right now. Plus it's dinner time and I have a hangry preschooler yelling about hotdogs. As soon as I hit publish I will remember your names and messages and love and feel awful. So let me apologize in advance!)

So we had this group over and we hired a photographer to capture the moment and I can't wait to see the pictures. Because while I know I was sad and grieving, what I remember most about that day was the love. Being surrounded by you all (in spirit and in person). You showed up in droves, with flowers and hugs and sweet butterfly mementos and you remembered Hannah. You used her name, you showed that she is not forgotten and that she matters. And that made all the difference. You got me over this milestone, over many milestones. I feel humbled and grateful and loved and amazed. I don't know what I did to deserve you all (actually I am pretty sure I don't deserve you all) and I am so incredibly thankful for you all. You are truly amazing and I thank you from the very bottom of my heart.