I remember 4 years ago today that it happened. My Dad called me at school and told me that Ivy had stopped breathing and that she had been taken to the hospital. My heart seemed to drop from my chest in a way that cannot be explained. My wife and I rushed to Primary children's hospital and kept a vigil through the night. In the morning we held her close as the ventilators and other machines that were keeping her alive were turned off. Her little body wrapped in a blanket held tight in my arms as she took her last breaths. I told her it was OK and she didn't have to hurt anymore. Some of the hardest words I have ever had to say.
They say time heals all wounds and I hope this is true. Time for all to be forgotten, time for all to be slowly worn away until nothing remains.
Time has indeed gone by for me. I think some wounds have healed but others feel very open still, such as the fact that I dread this time of year now where before I used to love the fall.
Time has not changed some memories such as that fateful day I had to tell my daughters that Ivy had died and would not be coming home again. That hurt so much because not only was she gone but my other girls were so hurt now to.
Time goes by and I still remember the viewing. My last time that I saw her angelic face. Before we closed the casket I tucked her in with her favorite yellow blanket that she always used to drag around the house. The one she had to always have to go to sleep. I wrapped it gently around her and after gently kissing her forehead I closed her casket.
Time to remember all the times I would drive to her grave and just sit with her because I felt so very very close to her there. The only place where I could still feel like she was a permanent part of my then and now not a fading memory.
Time to remember that even though this day is so hard for me and I wonder how can everyone not remember this day! Such a terrible day! And then I remember that time passes for others also. Their lives must move forward and while it is important to many, it is only this way for me and my wife.
Time to look at how we should be preparing to baptize her for her birthday next month but alas this will not happen. It is just another could of been....should of been....wish....
Time to recognize those who truly mean the most to your family for listening, sympathizing and most of all caring. To those very special family members and friends you know who you are, thank you.
Time until I see you again Ivy
Love Dad
Sunday, October 4, 2015
Monday, August 3, 2015
Ivys Voice
It has been awhile since I last wrote about my little Ivy. I may not speak of it to others but I remember her everyday. I want to say hey remember my darling daughter! But it only makes people uncomfortable. Out of sight out of mind type of thing. I sat and watched home movies of her for hours tonight. She was so vibrant and clear and her voice so alive....so very alive. I listen to myself in those videos, a proud father of 3 beautiful girls. I hear the kindness and cheerful timbre of my voice, my own voice and think how very far I am from that person.
I know I am different now but life must still be lived, new precious moments made with our wonderful twin girls and darling little son.
So while ivy's voice is always with me, happy and clear, mine is not so happy or quite as kind as it used to be. For my friends and family I appreciate your patience. Your time and your love. I know we are coming up on the 4th anniversary of her death and instead of celebrating and having a babtism we will now enter the part of life where you have been away longer than we spent with you.
To all those who are a constant in my life I thank you. Those who let me call and ask them questions, those who listen and those who just pat me on the back, thank you
And to my little angel keep whispering to me in that voice. I may not be the person you remember but I will be someone you can be proud of.
Love always
Dad.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Ivy's Visit
It seems like years since I last sat here, composing my thoughts and trying to bring sense to my roiling emotions. It has been 2 years since I last held my child. Our special date with destiny took place on October 5th 2011. A fey and cheerless morning. Having spent the previous night praying that god please spare out little child. Our beautiful curly haired Ivy who had never been any thing but innocence and love. Pleading with god to take me instead, let this pass from her and let her daddy protect her one more time.
That terrible day will live always in my mind. The day a parent loses a child is the day that the best, the most special part of a parent dies to. Always to think of her loss on this mortal plane but never to hold her until my own trials have passed. What cheer in the world turns to haze, the happiness a constant light that you just can't quite reach. These thoughts and more drive me to spend my emotions trying to convey,,, to explain what this day means to me.
Despite the grey and somewhat depressing way that I started this post all is not completely dismal. In fact a new child, a son named Weston came into our lives exactly one month before the 2nd anniversary of her death. I have found myself in a crucible of emotions as I hold him close and feel his small hand close around my fingers. The happiness I thought forever gone glistening a little. There will never be a replacement for our daughter, we would never consider it. There is no replacing someone who is still and always will be a part of our lives.
Sometimes we feel driven to do things that others do not understand...things that seem strange to the casual observer, a neighbor and even a close friend. That thing for me is to go to the one place I feel close to her, her burial site. Though I know my beautiful wife and son and my wonderful twin daughters will be staying here at home while I make the 3 hour journey to her, I know I don't travel alone. She is with me, whispering just a little longer and you will be here. My thoughts focused only on her for this, her special day. While I know the rest of the family is thinking of her and sharing thoughts and stories I will be with her for a short time at least.
Many of you think it's strange to drive down alone....leaving your wife on this most tender of days for us but what they do not comprehend is that even though she will stay with our infant son she understands what I need to do this in order to deal with this day. And through her grace and caring she has allowed me to go. So I will travel, thoughts of Ivy, my family and what might of been allowed out and given free reign to do as they will for this one special day of the year.
Wait for me my darling,
Daddy will be there soon....
That terrible day will live always in my mind. The day a parent loses a child is the day that the best, the most special part of a parent dies to. Always to think of her loss on this mortal plane but never to hold her until my own trials have passed. What cheer in the world turns to haze, the happiness a constant light that you just can't quite reach. These thoughts and more drive me to spend my emotions trying to convey,,, to explain what this day means to me.
Despite the grey and somewhat depressing way that I started this post all is not completely dismal. In fact a new child, a son named Weston came into our lives exactly one month before the 2nd anniversary of her death. I have found myself in a crucible of emotions as I hold him close and feel his small hand close around my fingers. The happiness I thought forever gone glistening a little. There will never be a replacement for our daughter, we would never consider it. There is no replacing someone who is still and always will be a part of our lives.
Sometimes we feel driven to do things that others do not understand...things that seem strange to the casual observer, a neighbor and even a close friend. That thing for me is to go to the one place I feel close to her, her burial site. Though I know my beautiful wife and son and my wonderful twin daughters will be staying here at home while I make the 3 hour journey to her, I know I don't travel alone. She is with me, whispering just a little longer and you will be here. My thoughts focused only on her for this, her special day. While I know the rest of the family is thinking of her and sharing thoughts and stories I will be with her for a short time at least.
Many of you think it's strange to drive down alone....leaving your wife on this most tender of days for us but what they do not comprehend is that even though she will stay with our infant son she understands what I need to do this in order to deal with this day. And through her grace and caring she has allowed me to go. So I will travel, thoughts of Ivy, my family and what might of been allowed out and given free reign to do as they will for this one special day of the year.
Wait for me my darling,
Daddy will be there soon....
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Ivy's Path
I think all the time about what might of been or should of been. The hardest thing about losing a child is not the grief....not the pain....but the loss of the future. The future filled with what could of been...or should of been, at least in my opinion.
One of my favorite might of been's is to imagine a day with her. My very own day to ask the questions I need answers to. A day to fold her in my arms and not let go.
I think of her with all of her beautiful hair and smiling face....looking up at me with a huge smile as she slips her tiny warm hand into mine. The chirp of her cute voice as she sees something exciting and exclaims loudly " look at the daddy!". The happiness it brings to my heat to see her so excited over something that I take for granted.
I think of us walking together down a leaf strewn trail, the sun warm on our backs as its light dapples the ground as we walk under the trees. Her smiling face as she points out colorful flowers in shades so colorful as to give life to the very air around them. The hum of life through the forest that enters your mind and heart and lets you feel that any thing is possible. That life is bounding around you and sharing its energy leaving you refreshed and invigorated.
A stream rustling through the forest lends harmony to the rustle of the leaves. A worn log rests next to the water and makes the perfect chair for us to sit on....the heat on our backs and the refreshing breezes wafting up from the stream.
And most importantly we talk....a talk that would last until I had finally allowed all the questions and answers that I needed to spill out. The meaning of it all....I would tell her how I missed her, how I would never forget her, and how I would spend my life loving her sisters and mother. Making sure they were taken care of and loved as I loved her
I would ask other questions to....questions that I don't want to know the answer to but need to ask. I would ask if she would forgive me for turning off the machine that was keeping her alive. Ask if she would forgive me for weeping as she died and I held her in my arms. Ask her if she could forgive me for telling her it was ok to let go and that she didn't have to hurt anymore. And finally for not keeping my word to keep her safe from harm.
I know in my heart that my little roo would forgive me all this and more, but sometimes it's easier to know that someone would forgive you if only you could forgive yourself.
Love you as always Ivy
Daddy
One of my favorite might of been's is to imagine a day with her. My very own day to ask the questions I need answers to. A day to fold her in my arms and not let go.
I think of her with all of her beautiful hair and smiling face....looking up at me with a huge smile as she slips her tiny warm hand into mine. The chirp of her cute voice as she sees something exciting and exclaims loudly " look at the daddy!". The happiness it brings to my heat to see her so excited over something that I take for granted.
I think of us walking together down a leaf strewn trail, the sun warm on our backs as its light dapples the ground as we walk under the trees. Her smiling face as she points out colorful flowers in shades so colorful as to give life to the very air around them. The hum of life through the forest that enters your mind and heart and lets you feel that any thing is possible. That life is bounding around you and sharing its energy leaving you refreshed and invigorated.
A stream rustling through the forest lends harmony to the rustle of the leaves. A worn log rests next to the water and makes the perfect chair for us to sit on....the heat on our backs and the refreshing breezes wafting up from the stream.
And most importantly we talk....a talk that would last until I had finally allowed all the questions and answers that I needed to spill out. The meaning of it all....I would tell her how I missed her, how I would never forget her, and how I would spend my life loving her sisters and mother. Making sure they were taken care of and loved as I loved her
I would ask other questions to....questions that I don't want to know the answer to but need to ask. I would ask if she would forgive me for turning off the machine that was keeping her alive. Ask if she would forgive me for weeping as she died and I held her in my arms. Ask her if she could forgive me for telling her it was ok to let go and that she didn't have to hurt anymore. And finally for not keeping my word to keep her safe from harm.
I know in my heart that my little roo would forgive me all this and more, but sometimes it's easier to know that someone would forgive you if only you could forgive yourself.
Love you as always Ivy
Daddy
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Ivy on my mind
I know that some of these blogs probably get old after awhile. The same old thing it probably seems... you might ask yourself when is he just going to get over it? Believe me I have asked myself that many times over the last 9 months.
Let me share some of the things I do when I think about Ivy.... alot of the time it's not "convenient" for grief. Lots of people are around, I am at work or with others. Why can't it just come when I am alone and it's time for bed? Or taking a shower so I can just wash away the tears easily. I don't know how the world still turns somedays and yet I clench my stomach, hold my breath, close my eyes and will the tears back because it isn't a "convenient" time.
When did missing my daughter become about convenince? Why can't I just sit down in the middle of a group and just let the tears pour forth. I can't keep bottling it up inside like I have been the last two months. I am just making every episode more intense and emotional when if I were to deal with it that moment and let out my grief I could probably have a much better handle on it.
It's finally come to the point where I can't talk about her. I have to take deep breaths and try and force the words out past the pain. It has been so hard....so very hard.
Many tell me that they can still feel her with us...I envy them. Many people have found peace in it this way but to tell you the truth I don't feel her...what I wouldn't give to feel just a hint of her presence. Just a touch of her laugh in the wind or the feel of her hand on my cheek like golden sunshine. I go to her grave because it is the only place I can even begin to feel close to her but people just don't understand. They tell me to quit torturing my self by going there.
What I need the most is to hear things like "Justin are you doing ok?" or "I just posted this picture for you and your family because we care" I am so tired of hearing that time heals everything it doesn't provide relief from my pain all it does is let me know the person saying it to me cares.
I watched the fourth of July fireworks with my "second family" (you know who you are) and as my kids were enthralled I could only think of how much Ivy would of loved it.
Please I just ask for one thing....to know my little girl is warm, being taken care of and loved. Thats all I ask.
Love you so much Ivy
Daddy.
Let me share some of the things I do when I think about Ivy.... alot of the time it's not "convenient" for grief. Lots of people are around, I am at work or with others. Why can't it just come when I am alone and it's time for bed? Or taking a shower so I can just wash away the tears easily. I don't know how the world still turns somedays and yet I clench my stomach, hold my breath, close my eyes and will the tears back because it isn't a "convenient" time.
When did missing my daughter become about convenince? Why can't I just sit down in the middle of a group and just let the tears pour forth. I can't keep bottling it up inside like I have been the last two months. I am just making every episode more intense and emotional when if I were to deal with it that moment and let out my grief I could probably have a much better handle on it.
It's finally come to the point where I can't talk about her. I have to take deep breaths and try and force the words out past the pain. It has been so hard....so very hard.
Many tell me that they can still feel her with us...I envy them. Many people have found peace in it this way but to tell you the truth I don't feel her...what I wouldn't give to feel just a hint of her presence. Just a touch of her laugh in the wind or the feel of her hand on my cheek like golden sunshine. I go to her grave because it is the only place I can even begin to feel close to her but people just don't understand. They tell me to quit torturing my self by going there.
What I need the most is to hear things like "Justin are you doing ok?" or "I just posted this picture for you and your family because we care" I am so tired of hearing that time heals everything it doesn't provide relief from my pain all it does is let me know the person saying it to me cares.
I watched the fourth of July fireworks with my "second family" (you know who you are) and as my kids were enthralled I could only think of how much Ivy would of loved it.
Please I just ask for one thing....to know my little girl is warm, being taken care of and loved. Thats all I ask.
Love you so much Ivy
Daddy.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Remembering Ivy
This is the hardest post I have put up since my very first one.
I am going to a memorial for Ivy tommorow with my wife and kids. It is being held by Primary childrens medical center which is the where we had to say good bye to out little Ivy.
How do I go back? I have not been able to enter a hospital since she died. I literally feel torn in half because of the two competing thoughts....do I return to honor her memory? Or do I stay away because of the grief and terror that returning will cause. I say terror becasue that is exactly what I feel. Holding her in our arms as she took her final breaths and telling her it's ok to let go. That we love her. Thats what I remember when I enter a hospital. What kind of father am I that it is so hard to make myself go. I can't let my wife and kids attend without me that would be a slap to her memory and a burden that I could not bear, allowing them to suffer and me not being there to hold them.
Isn't missing her every day, every hour of my life enough?
I feel like a black chasm is open at my feet, Deep and dark it spirals into the depths...will I have the fortitude and the will try and cross or will I fail, falling into despair. How can I be so blessed with a wonderful family, having finally graduated and obtained a good job and yet not be able to focus on the good, the wonder and joy that my family brings.
I am broken inside and even though time heals I fear this break will always be tender.
Ivy as always I love you
Daddy
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Ivy's Home
Graduation is coming soon and that means change. Change that I am not sure I can handle yet. Getting my degree and finishing school ... working full time during the week. I can handle all of these changes but I don't know about moving to be closer to work.
Home. It's such a simple word and means different things to different people. Home is where my family is. Home is that safe warm place full of good memories. Home is continuity and home is love.
Home is where my Ivy is. How do I find the way to leave our home for another? How do I find the strength to change the one and only place that my family has ever been whole. Our small home where we first brought our precious daughter home to...our home where we raised her for almost four years...our home where she left us...our home where she last walked the floor...where she laughed and loved. How?
The home my wife and I came home to the day Ivy died. The home that felt so physically empty but filled with her memories...The home where I said goodbye to her that fateful day.
How do I find you if not home Ivy? Where do I go? Who do I ask? How can I touch your soft hair and hear your clear laugh if not at home?
So much pain is in my heart tonight that I feel it may burst. My eyes strain to blink away tears as I type. I know our home isn't lavish, isn't huge, isn't many things but it was the home our family made...our whole family.
I ask you how and why? I speak of change and pain. I selfishly feel that I have been through enough already and why force me to make another change? Another acceptance of her loss. I don't need any more changes, I know she is gone. I feel it in every breath that isn't quite complete because of the missing part of my soul.
I fear tonight will be another sleepless night. Sitting here looking at photos' of our past happiness. The grief of her loss tearing at me, whispering could have's and should have's.....questioning yet no answers come forth to give me comfort.
Home is lost.
Home is pain
Home is grief
No matter the time or distance...the trials or circumstances I can never go home again.
As always Ivy,
Love Daddy.
Home. It's such a simple word and means different things to different people. Home is where my family is. Home is that safe warm place full of good memories. Home is continuity and home is love.
Home is where my Ivy is. How do I find the way to leave our home for another? How do I find the strength to change the one and only place that my family has ever been whole. Our small home where we first brought our precious daughter home to...our home where we raised her for almost four years...our home where she left us...our home where she last walked the floor...where she laughed and loved. How?
The home my wife and I came home to the day Ivy died. The home that felt so physically empty but filled with her memories...The home where I said goodbye to her that fateful day.
How do I find you if not home Ivy? Where do I go? Who do I ask? How can I touch your soft hair and hear your clear laugh if not at home?
So much pain is in my heart tonight that I feel it may burst. My eyes strain to blink away tears as I type. I know our home isn't lavish, isn't huge, isn't many things but it was the home our family made...our whole family.
I ask you how and why? I speak of change and pain. I selfishly feel that I have been through enough already and why force me to make another change? Another acceptance of her loss. I don't need any more changes, I know she is gone. I feel it in every breath that isn't quite complete because of the missing part of my soul.
I fear tonight will be another sleepless night. Sitting here looking at photos' of our past happiness. The grief of her loss tearing at me, whispering could have's and should have's.....questioning yet no answers come forth to give me comfort.
Home is lost.
Home is pain
Home is grief
No matter the time or distance...the trials or circumstances I can never go home again.
As always Ivy,
Love Daddy.
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