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.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Ivy my beloved
The ridges of the stone felt sharp and crisp against my fingers. The tips of each one questing into each groove and notch. Alternating from a rough ridge to a smooth straight side....The day was warm and a gentle breeze was whispering through the grass making a small rustling sound as my fingers gently caressed the word "beloved" on Ivy's headstone. I knelt at her grave silently tears rolling unnoticed down my face. My precious child wrapped tightly in her favorite blanket so close....so close....no earthly way was left for me to reach her though no matter the distance.
If I could only imagine one more day to be with you. We would be completely alone. Just your mom and sisters would be allowed in. A jumping, rolling knot of playing sisters as Ivy tagged along after her older siblings....wanting so much to be like them and of course snuggling against her mother their long hair entwining as Ivy kisses her cheek. No feelings of love would go unshared, no laughter withheld. This long jagged cut in my soul erased as if it had never been....no more grief, sadness and anger only pure joy at the thought of our family being together again.
That is what I could imagine.
As I knelt in front of her gravestone, my fingers pressed so hard into the cold unyielding stone I saw another person. At first I took them to be a visitor like myself but then realized that they were cutting through the cemetary to reach a destination. All of my sadness left and changed to anger. What gave this person the right to disturb me in this moment of peace with my child. How can my tears and grief not stand out like a beacon among stones. The emotions I was feeling were so intense they must be visible to others! But the person noticed not. Not that I was crying, Not that I had such anger, not that my beloved daughter lay beneath my feet. How I thought. How can they not see and know such a powerful thing. Such a thing that has changed my life forever. I thought these things as I glared at the person and then I noticed the person was actually a young man of around eight. My anger extinguished as I grappled with my intense emotions and I felt a guilt rising in me. What right did I have to feel angry at anothers child? How could I have these angry emotions that overcame my sense of loss right here at my daughters grave?
I prayed again on her grave and asked for strength to make it just one more day. Then for one more after that. Most of all I prayed for her to know my love for her.
I love you Ivy and miss you
Love as always, Daddy
If I could only imagine one more day to be with you. We would be completely alone. Just your mom and sisters would be allowed in. A jumping, rolling knot of playing sisters as Ivy tagged along after her older siblings....wanting so much to be like them and of course snuggling against her mother their long hair entwining as Ivy kisses her cheek. No feelings of love would go unshared, no laughter withheld. This long jagged cut in my soul erased as if it had never been....no more grief, sadness and anger only pure joy at the thought of our family being together again.
That is what I could imagine.
As I knelt in front of her gravestone, my fingers pressed so hard into the cold unyielding stone I saw another person. At first I took them to be a visitor like myself but then realized that they were cutting through the cemetary to reach a destination. All of my sadness left and changed to anger. What gave this person the right to disturb me in this moment of peace with my child. How can my tears and grief not stand out like a beacon among stones. The emotions I was feeling were so intense they must be visible to others! But the person noticed not. Not that I was crying, Not that I had such anger, not that my beloved daughter lay beneath my feet. How I thought. How can they not see and know such a powerful thing. Such a thing that has changed my life forever. I thought these things as I glared at the person and then I noticed the person was actually a young man of around eight. My anger extinguished as I grappled with my intense emotions and I felt a guilt rising in me. What right did I have to feel angry at anothers child? How could I have these angry emotions that overcame my sense of loss right here at my daughters grave?
I prayed again on her grave and asked for strength to make it just one more day. Then for one more after that. Most of all I prayed for her to know my love for her.
I love you Ivy and miss you
Love as always, Daddy
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Ivy's Promise
I know in my heart tonight a feeling of peace. A light in the corner that glimmers slightly has suddenly burst into full flame and lit the dark corners of my soul. A reason. A promise. A goal. All these and more formed from evasive broken pieces of thought and grief into a strong resolve! A powerful shout echoes through the clamoring of guilt and denial in my head.......What is this light? What is this noise? My daughters love. Ivy would not want me to be saddened by her death. She would not with me pain, suffering and grief. No! She would do what she did everytime she saw that I was sad. She would lay her cheek against mine her soft hair curling around us and tell me she loved me. Don't be sad Daddy. So I look at my life. How am I honoring her memory by burying it in sadness and grief? Why shouldn't I laugh and feel love at the memory of her running into my arms to be held. Why not feel the wind fresh on my face and think not of death but of the love she had for her family. The love that I am resolved to provide in her stead. How I will make my wifes tears into smiles, my childrens sadness into laughter.
Ivy. I promise.
Love with happiness in my heart for all the wonder you continue to bring into our lives
Always a proud daddy of Three!
Daddy.
Ivy. I promise.
Love with happiness in my heart for all the wonder you continue to bring into our lives
Always a proud daddy of Three!
Daddy.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Ivy's Valentine
I knew this one was going to be a tough day. Valentines, the day you share your heart with the ones you love. When our twin 6 year old daughters came home today from first grade they each had smiles from ear to ear. Bags and big candy hearts filled their hands, excitement glowing in each of their eyes. I was so happy to see them like this, pure innocence and enjoyment from a wonderful day.
I try not to dwell on my Ivy but it stirs my heart tonight. Ivy would you be my valentine? Could my gift be one more day to bask in your love. One more day to share my heart.
If I could give you my valentine my dear this is some of what it would contain....A droplet of water shed from my eyes because of pure joy. A wisp of the warm south wind that has risen off a grove of trees smelling fresh and alive. A burst of starlight to spread around your hair to catch and twinkle in each curly lock. The sound of rustling leaves in a quite warm forest glen. A soft touch of sunset to bathe your face and light your eyes. And most of all you would feel.......my heart, and the infinite love it holds for you.
As always Ivy
love Daddy
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Ivy's meanderings
So that last one was kind of depressing wasn't it? I know I went back through it later and just kind of cringed. But let me tell you something...honest feelings expressed are never wrong. Honest feelings kept locked inside are poison. I know many of you that read that last one were very concerned for me and you will all never know how much I appreciate it and love you all for it.
But let me share something else about my writing....it is theraputic for me. It allows thoughts, many of them crazy or wacky to be expressed. To find a way to the surface and allow me to hold them up and look at them honestly, to sort them and address each one as needed. As soon as I hit the final enter key on that post I felt physically and emotionally better. In fact contrary to what alot of you probably got out of that most of my days are better. Not great or even good but.....better. I still have certain days where I just have to let it out or I swear it would just eat me alive inside if I tried to keep all that in. It warms my heart and soul when people share links about my little blog and others that I don't even know comment on it and I know Ivy's memory is alive and well in many hearts.
I love my wife and twins more then they can ever know and as for my little Ivy I am pretty sure it's obvious that I will always consider my self a father of THREE.
A little different this time
Love from Ivy and her Daddy to all of those who support us.
Justin Hayes
PS "love daddy"
But let me share something else about my writing....it is theraputic for me. It allows thoughts, many of them crazy or wacky to be expressed. To find a way to the surface and allow me to hold them up and look at them honestly, to sort them and address each one as needed. As soon as I hit the final enter key on that post I felt physically and emotionally better. In fact contrary to what alot of you probably got out of that most of my days are better. Not great or even good but.....better. I still have certain days where I just have to let it out or I swear it would just eat me alive inside if I tried to keep all that in. It warms my heart and soul when people share links about my little blog and others that I don't even know comment on it and I know Ivy's memory is alive and well in many hearts.
I love my wife and twins more then they can ever know and as for my little Ivy I am pretty sure it's obvious that I will always consider my self a father of THREE.
A little different this time
Love from Ivy and her Daddy to all of those who support us.
Justin Hayes
PS "love daddy"
Ivy's Night
Night falls fast across the landscape of my soul today. I strive to find the faintest glimmer of light across the desolate flats. I know that I have fallen into a deep depression today brought on by many factors but mostly lack of sleep and the most important...the absence of my daughter. I reach desperately for meaning but I just can't make my self care about anything today. On phone calls and conversations I could not even make decisions because I felt so emotionally and physically drained. I told myself "I don't care." I told myself "it does not matter what happens next because it can't get any worse than this". Then my wife came and laid next to me in tears because she was so worried about me. And my selfish walls that I had built around me today started to crumble. The don't care attitude was beaten and stomped down by the power of her pain. Pain because of me. Pain because I was not strong enough to be the man that she needed me to be. I feel like I have failed my family I am suppose to be the strong one! Not the one weeping in the burnt out coals of a cold hearth. Where have my feelings gone? To completely desert me and leave me cold and numb. Physically and emotionally unable to even carry on a normal conversation other then yes, no or don't care. The only emotion I can still feel keenly is the sharp blade of grief that buries it self in my heart every time I think of Ivy. My chest heaves and tears stream down my face but I don't even care enough to notice who is watching me. The part of me that I need desperately need o find, the part that never gives up, the part who would be the man that Ivy would want me to be is lost in this wilderness. I pray to god that I can find that person again. I pray that someone, somewhere will be able to tell me how to get back to that secret hidden path.
I admit it. I am afraid and I need help. I need people to leave a comment to pull my head out. I need people to leave a note that says everything will be better. I need her memory to be shared with as many people as possible and never forgotten. I feel that the love off my family and friends is the only way back to the sunlight and happiness of life. A life where the cool breeze of a brisk day evokes thoughts of walks among autumn trees. A stream chuckles over rocks and down a gully making it's noisy way through the hills and leaving a tang of freshness you can taste from the spray. And most important the touch of 's hand on mine. To know that I am not alone, that touch upon my soul from a divine source to grant comfort.
Please......
Ivy as always
Love, Daddy. And forgive me for not being strong enough...
I admit it. I am afraid and I need help. I need people to leave a comment to pull my head out. I need people to leave a note that says everything will be better. I need her memory to be shared with as many people as possible and never forgotten. I feel that the love off my family and friends is the only way back to the sunlight and happiness of life. A life where the cool breeze of a brisk day evokes thoughts of walks among autumn trees. A stream chuckles over rocks and down a gully making it's noisy way through the hills and leaving a tang of freshness you can taste from the spray. And most important the touch of 's hand on mine. To know that I am not alone, that touch upon my soul from a divine source to grant comfort.
Please......
Ivy as always
Love, Daddy. And forgive me for not being strong enough...
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Ivy's Memory
This blog has been one or the most difficult things of my life. When Ivy died I thought it could not get any worse than this. Nothing in life will be this bad, this terrible....this unthinkable. But as I found the funeral past and the days changing I found something else to match it. Memories.
I truly believe that memory's are a way to connect with our past and bring it back into our present. Sometimes this can be a blessing while other times a painful hardship. Our family went to visit Ivy today and it was just to difficult to pull up to the cemetery with the expectation of painful memory's and today was no exception.
One of the memory's that bring me to tears most often is the last time we talked. I had taken her to the emergency room to be checked because we were worried about her, afterward we were leaving the hospital with her prescription and I had her all wrapped up in her little blankie that she loved so much. She had her long curly hair pressed against my cheek as she leaned in against me and told me she loved me. Then she said the oddest thing, she asked if I would always protect her. I promised her I would. This memory and this promise come to mind everyday. The pure love she had for me as she snuggled close. A childs innocence still with her and the promise of a long and happy future was assured. We had just left the hospital and gotten that reassurance that a worried parent needs.
Now away from the memory's and into the morrow we must move. Thoughts of her will fill my mind at all times and places, in school, driving, and at home. During sacrement meeting I can no longer stay for all the meetings. I sit close to the back with my family and bow my head to hide the tears that pour forth. Not a single Sunday meeting has gone by without my tears running the entire time. We had her funeral in that very chapel and the memory glimmers at me just out of the corner of my vision a constant reminder, something that I must look at like a flashing light. This and other places have become a memory that I cannot escape.
Others say things to friends and family and you eventually hear some of them. Things like "they are not the same person" or "They are taking it very hard". True statements both of them along with others. Not meant in an unkind way but a statement from a caring individual.
Do I go out and see movies with friends? Or take the family out to do something fun? Sometimes....not nearly as often as before. It is hard to find joy in anything. Books become a hardship rather than a relaxation. A movie becomes a reminder rather then a distraction. Lunch with a friend becomes a chore as you "try and be normal".
Can the beauty of life be found again? I remember days before her death with clarity and vividness while the days following drag on with tedium and grayness.
The things I need most the support of my family and friends is wonderful. The outpouring of love and especially the comments about my blog and followers of it help me feel that there are some people out there that might understand. So please if you are my brother, my friend, my cousin, an aquaintance or even someone who I have not had the chance to be friends with yet or a complete stranger, leave your comments. Share your thoughts. Help me make some new memory's that might be as bright and as strong as those that I have for my little one.
As always Ivy....
Love Daddy
I truly believe that memory's are a way to connect with our past and bring it back into our present. Sometimes this can be a blessing while other times a painful hardship. Our family went to visit Ivy today and it was just to difficult to pull up to the cemetery with the expectation of painful memory's and today was no exception.
One of the memory's that bring me to tears most often is the last time we talked. I had taken her to the emergency room to be checked because we were worried about her, afterward we were leaving the hospital with her prescription and I had her all wrapped up in her little blankie that she loved so much. She had her long curly hair pressed against my cheek as she leaned in against me and told me she loved me. Then she said the oddest thing, she asked if I would always protect her. I promised her I would. This memory and this promise come to mind everyday. The pure love she had for me as she snuggled close. A childs innocence still with her and the promise of a long and happy future was assured. We had just left the hospital and gotten that reassurance that a worried parent needs.
Now away from the memory's and into the morrow we must move. Thoughts of her will fill my mind at all times and places, in school, driving, and at home. During sacrement meeting I can no longer stay for all the meetings. I sit close to the back with my family and bow my head to hide the tears that pour forth. Not a single Sunday meeting has gone by without my tears running the entire time. We had her funeral in that very chapel and the memory glimmers at me just out of the corner of my vision a constant reminder, something that I must look at like a flashing light. This and other places have become a memory that I cannot escape.
Others say things to friends and family and you eventually hear some of them. Things like "they are not the same person" or "They are taking it very hard". True statements both of them along with others. Not meant in an unkind way but a statement from a caring individual.
Do I go out and see movies with friends? Or take the family out to do something fun? Sometimes....not nearly as often as before. It is hard to find joy in anything. Books become a hardship rather than a relaxation. A movie becomes a reminder rather then a distraction. Lunch with a friend becomes a chore as you "try and be normal".
Can the beauty of life be found again? I remember days before her death with clarity and vividness while the days following drag on with tedium and grayness.
The things I need most the support of my family and friends is wonderful. The outpouring of love and especially the comments about my blog and followers of it help me feel that there are some people out there that might understand. So please if you are my brother, my friend, my cousin, an aquaintance or even someone who I have not had the chance to be friends with yet or a complete stranger, leave your comments. Share your thoughts. Help me make some new memory's that might be as bright and as strong as those that I have for my little one.
As always Ivy....
Love Daddy
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Ivy's Faith
I miss her. I miss her so much. My heart feels like it is being ripped out. And in it's place nothing remains. No more joy. No more happiness. Nothing to strive or reach for. Just the grief. Just the pain. Just remembering her soft hair pressed against my cheek the last time I talked to her and she asked me to protect her always. And I did. I did promise. She told me she loved me and called me daddya. Her special name for me. And I just took her home. Not knowing...not thinking that 24 hours later I would be holding her at a different hospital as her last breath escaped her tiny body. My cheek snuggled against her hair this time telling her how much I loved and needed her. I tried to make a deal with god. I promised I would take her place. I promised my eternal happiness for her just to open her eyes...to not die. To not leave. I begged. I begged like I had never before. Anything from me to save her. Anything....to protect her... But my words were as leaves in the Autumn...clinging as long as they can before falling to earth to be blown away.
God I am begging again. Please...please listen to my prayers and give me some measure of comfort. Let me know she is there waiting for me. Please help me hold to my faith because it is all I have left...all that I have left of her and I can't lose it. I just can"t.
Ivy if you can hear or see or understand any of this please help me hold my faith.
Love Daddy.
God I am begging again. Please...please listen to my prayers and give me some measure of comfort. Let me know she is there waiting for me. Please help me hold to my faith because it is all I have left...all that I have left of her and I can't lose it. I just can"t.
Ivy if you can hear or see or understand any of this please help me hold my faith.
Love Daddy.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Ivy's Light
It has been a little while since I last posted something. It is Christmas Eve and I couldn't sleep. I lay awake in bed thinking how my little girl wasn't going to be be home for christmas....wasn't ever going to be home again. I was never going to hear her little steps again running through the house....would never again see her smiling at me with her sparkling eyes full of mischief. Not in this world again at least.
We went to a candle lighting ceremony for a group that we attend called the Society of Compassionate Friends. This wonderful group meets monthly and is a gathering of people from all walks of life that share something in common....the loss of a close loved one. A brother, a father, a wife and of course a child. This group comes together and allows us to discuss how we feel rather it be anger, hate, rage, love, grief and even faith with others that understand....truly understand what we are feeling because they have experienced it also. Many people try to understand what we are going through or tell us that time will heal. I appreciate the sentiments and truly love all of them for trying to help, but they will never truly understand what it is like until you go through it. Being able to share your anger or grief with others that have the same feelings is truly a blessing. Wanting to know am I going crazy for some of the thoughts I have only to find out that they are commonly shared. The intense grief in my heart shared in the heart of another for their own child helps give me peace. The way that some of them that have had more time for their grief and have found various ways to come to terms with it. We all gathered together and as part of a world wide ceremony we lit a candle for Ivy. Other familys and parents lit one for their lost ones and we shared stories of our loved ones. The candle stays lit for 1 hour in our time zone and then groups in the next time zone light theirs allowing the light of our love to travel around the world.
In ways almost all parents who have lost a child try and find a way to honor their lost one. Be it a personal goal or a more public statement. Michele and I decided we would do a christmas stocking for Ivy. It just didn't seem right to hang all of the stockings up and not have one for our Ivy. So we put up hers and gathered gifts from family and friends. They were then all given to a family who was not going to have a christmas. In this way Ivy's love lives on in all those who so generously donated a gift and also in the hearts of the children that will lighten with delight from Ivy's gift.
May your light always shine so bright until I see you again Ivy,
as always
Love Daddy
We went to a candle lighting ceremony for a group that we attend called the Society of Compassionate Friends. This wonderful group meets monthly and is a gathering of people from all walks of life that share something in common....the loss of a close loved one. A brother, a father, a wife and of course a child. This group comes together and allows us to discuss how we feel rather it be anger, hate, rage, love, grief and even faith with others that understand....truly understand what we are feeling because they have experienced it also. Many people try to understand what we are going through or tell us that time will heal. I appreciate the sentiments and truly love all of them for trying to help, but they will never truly understand what it is like until you go through it. Being able to share your anger or grief with others that have the same feelings is truly a blessing. Wanting to know am I going crazy for some of the thoughts I have only to find out that they are commonly shared. The intense grief in my heart shared in the heart of another for their own child helps give me peace. The way that some of them that have had more time for their grief and have found various ways to come to terms with it. We all gathered together and as part of a world wide ceremony we lit a candle for Ivy. Other familys and parents lit one for their lost ones and we shared stories of our loved ones. The candle stays lit for 1 hour in our time zone and then groups in the next time zone light theirs allowing the light of our love to travel around the world.
In ways almost all parents who have lost a child try and find a way to honor their lost one. Be it a personal goal or a more public statement. Michele and I decided we would do a christmas stocking for Ivy. It just didn't seem right to hang all of the stockings up and not have one for our Ivy. So we put up hers and gathered gifts from family and friends. They were then all given to a family who was not going to have a christmas. In this way Ivy's love lives on in all those who so generously donated a gift and also in the hearts of the children that will lighten with delight from Ivy's gift.
May your light always shine so bright until I see you again Ivy,
as always
Love Daddy
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Ivy's Monument
Ivy’s headstone memorial,
Today is a day for remembrance. A day that would not of been possible for us without the love, generosity and charity of Neil Adams and his son. This day is also for tears, for joy, for grief, and for happiness. Though it is seemingly impossible to have all of these feelings at once I bear truth to you that it is so. Even though Ivy has passed into the arms of her heavenly father, this monument to her life will stand.
It will stand.
Stand for Love
Stand for Remembrance
Stand for Sacrifice
Stand. As I will in the darkness and in the light.
Stand. Holding my family tight and her memory bright.
Stand to be the man I must be.
This piece of stone that marks her earthly remains is a dedication to her life. A reaffirmation of all of our love for her. A reminder of her beauty both in body and in spirit. A inspiration to become the kind of people she would be proud of.
Lastly this is not a marker of her death, but a marker of her journey through life and the love she shared so freely.
As always Ivy, I love you.
Daddy and Mommy
Monday, December 5, 2011
Ivy's sunset
I got a call from my mom and dad today. They told me that Ivy's headstone is ready and will be put in this week.
It just hit me like a brick wall. A headstone. The finality of it. No more denial, no more hope, just the end of everything.
A beautiful headstone with a hand painted porcelein picture of her smiling face on it. Put above her earthly remains. First we needed to find out if the ground was frozen so my parents drove me out to her grave in Nephi which is about a half hour from our home.
First the most important thing is to thank my Uncle Neal who has helped us in this difficult time by designing and making the headstone for us as a gift. A tribute to Ivy. The sacrifice of him and his familys time and materials to help us is astounding. Although I am so grateful to them it just really hit me.
The drive out to Nephi was harder this time than the one for her burial. I didn't have to be strong for my kids, for my wife. I just cried silently the whole way. My parents tried their best to comfort me but I refused to be comforted. My Ivy was alone. Buried in the cold earth and I was traveling down the freeway in the fading light of day to be close to her mortal remains once more. The sun was setting on our way down to nephi. The last rays of the cold day flickering in and out of view as the jagged vista of the mountains came and went, obscuring then clearing as rays of light shot up into the dark clouds turning them a dark red. And right in the middle of it was a flame. A bright light surrounded by darkness like a flickering candle in a dark room. Staring at it's final defiance against the night I thought of Ivy's last day. Her fight for life. My need for her to live. All of it failed. All of it going dark eventually like the light of the sun.
When we arrived at the sunset the gloom was complete for me as I found Ivys grave, still standing slightly above the ground from the loose dirt not yet settled. A hard crust of white snow covering her. After checking the ground to see if it was frozen I asked my parents for some time alone with my little one. I knelt on her grave and poured forth my soul into the cold ground. My pants and hands covered with wet snow yet I didn't feel a thing compared to the ache for her within me. I finally stood, swaying for a moment and bowed my head one final time to say "I love you Ivy" and returned to the truck.
Enough for now.
As always Ivy I love you
Daddy
It just hit me like a brick wall. A headstone. The finality of it. No more denial, no more hope, just the end of everything.
A beautiful headstone with a hand painted porcelein picture of her smiling face on it. Put above her earthly remains. First we needed to find out if the ground was frozen so my parents drove me out to her grave in Nephi which is about a half hour from our home.
First the most important thing is to thank my Uncle Neal who has helped us in this difficult time by designing and making the headstone for us as a gift. A tribute to Ivy. The sacrifice of him and his familys time and materials to help us is astounding. Although I am so grateful to them it just really hit me.
The drive out to Nephi was harder this time than the one for her burial. I didn't have to be strong for my kids, for my wife. I just cried silently the whole way. My parents tried their best to comfort me but I refused to be comforted. My Ivy was alone. Buried in the cold earth and I was traveling down the freeway in the fading light of day to be close to her mortal remains once more. The sun was setting on our way down to nephi. The last rays of the cold day flickering in and out of view as the jagged vista of the mountains came and went, obscuring then clearing as rays of light shot up into the dark clouds turning them a dark red. And right in the middle of it was a flame. A bright light surrounded by darkness like a flickering candle in a dark room. Staring at it's final defiance against the night I thought of Ivy's last day. Her fight for life. My need for her to live. All of it failed. All of it going dark eventually like the light of the sun.
When we arrived at the sunset the gloom was complete for me as I found Ivys grave, still standing slightly above the ground from the loose dirt not yet settled. A hard crust of white snow covering her. After checking the ground to see if it was frozen I asked my parents for some time alone with my little one. I knelt on her grave and poured forth my soul into the cold ground. My pants and hands covered with wet snow yet I didn't feel a thing compared to the ache for her within me. I finally stood, swaying for a moment and bowed my head one final time to say "I love you Ivy" and returned to the truck.
Enough for now.
As always Ivy I love you
Daddy
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Words I need to say to Ivy
I know sometimes that these blogs have a sad desperate side to them, well I won't deny it its a sad painful subject that needs a release. I love and appreciate all of you who have and continue to support us. Some people feel you just need time to get over it....or I know how you feel. Well much as I appreciate the sentiments it is hard to accept that I will ever get over it or that someone else other that my wife can know how much it hurts. I know people are trying to help in their own way and that includes trying to reassure the grieving and to provide hope. Well let me tell you something about hope. It is not just a word to me. This is what "hope is" to me.
I hope. I hope hard. I hope so long. I hope that Ivy can hear me and the words that I need to say to her.
As I held my daughter for the last five minutes of her life as the machines that sustained her life were turned off I cradled her tightly in my arms. Kissing her forehead and telling her it was ok. She didn't have to hurt any more. That she was loved. That is was ok for her to go so she could rest.
What I wanted to say to her was please don't leave me Ivy. Please. Let me hold your hand and leave here with you. Let daddy make it better, let me protect you from death.
As I sat with her alone for a few minutes during that long night I held her hand and sang her favorite lullaby. The one that I sang to all three of my girls when they were frightened or scared. I sang the words to her even though I am no great musician and told her about my love for her. I have not been able to sing it since to my beautiful twins because my throat tightens and my vocal cords lock as my eyes fill with tears.
I need to tell her that I would travel through hell to find her. I would give up my own life to save her. I would set her free even though it destroyed me.
It is late. In fact while writing this a new day has dawned. I sit here in the living room close to those I love the most in this world. Yet no matter how close I am...no matter that I could go up the stairs and hold them in my arms....there is an emptyness. A part of me that died that day. If given the opportunity to lessen the pain were given to me I would not take it. I would not lessen the love and adoration I had for my child. I would not permit her memory to be marred in any way by any short comings of mine.
So I must stand strong. I must be the person who will be deserving of the love she freely gave to me. I must be the father and husband my wife and twins deserve to help them through this trying time. I beg god daily for the strenght to just make it through one more day. Just one more. And then beg the next day for the strength to once again make it through one more day.
I think daily of her death, how as I readied myself to close her casket I pulled her favorite yellow blankie around her and tucked her in tight one last time. Stroked her hair and touched her hand for the last time on this earth and then closed the casket. Closing away that part of my life into the past where it must stay no matter how I try and drag it into the present.
I just want to hold your hand one more time little one, to hold you in my arms and let you kiss my cheek. To hear you day in your beautiful voice "I love you dadya" She always loved to call me dadya because she heard her older sisters do it.
As always Ivy,
Love daddy, the proudest name I could ever have from my little girl.
I hope. I hope hard. I hope so long. I hope that Ivy can hear me and the words that I need to say to her.
As I held my daughter for the last five minutes of her life as the machines that sustained her life were turned off I cradled her tightly in my arms. Kissing her forehead and telling her it was ok. She didn't have to hurt any more. That she was loved. That is was ok for her to go so she could rest.
What I wanted to say to her was please don't leave me Ivy. Please. Let me hold your hand and leave here with you. Let daddy make it better, let me protect you from death.
As I sat with her alone for a few minutes during that long night I held her hand and sang her favorite lullaby. The one that I sang to all three of my girls when they were frightened or scared. I sang the words to her even though I am no great musician and told her about my love for her. I have not been able to sing it since to my beautiful twins because my throat tightens and my vocal cords lock as my eyes fill with tears.
I need to tell her that I would travel through hell to find her. I would give up my own life to save her. I would set her free even though it destroyed me.
It is late. In fact while writing this a new day has dawned. I sit here in the living room close to those I love the most in this world. Yet no matter how close I am...no matter that I could go up the stairs and hold them in my arms....there is an emptyness. A part of me that died that day. If given the opportunity to lessen the pain were given to me I would not take it. I would not lessen the love and adoration I had for my child. I would not permit her memory to be marred in any way by any short comings of mine.
So I must stand strong. I must be the person who will be deserving of the love she freely gave to me. I must be the father and husband my wife and twins deserve to help them through this trying time. I beg god daily for the strenght to just make it through one more day. Just one more. And then beg the next day for the strength to once again make it through one more day.
I think daily of her death, how as I readied myself to close her casket I pulled her favorite yellow blankie around her and tucked her in tight one last time. Stroked her hair and touched her hand for the last time on this earth and then closed the casket. Closing away that part of my life into the past where it must stay no matter how I try and drag it into the present.
I just want to hold your hand one more time little one, to hold you in my arms and let you kiss my cheek. To hear you day in your beautiful voice "I love you dadya" She always loved to call me dadya because she heard her older sisters do it.
As always Ivy,
Love daddy, the proudest name I could ever have from my little girl.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Another Ivy leaf unfurls
Describing Ivys death in my last blog was a contest of water resistant keyboards and absorbant paper towels. The idea of sharing my thoughts and feelings with others would of horrified me beyond words just a short time ago. Writing this blog has allowed me to give thought and consideration to each part of Ivy's tragic loss. I find I like to compare things....and use them to describe how things (crazy, looney things sometimes) run through my mind.
The storm broke suddenly, violent tendrils of rain streaking towards the earth. Gathering, piling, and flowing until the single drop becomes a rivulet, then a tendril, racing onward to gather in streams and flowing into rivers broad and swift. Then this unstoppable force calms as it enters into the tributary of a lake, the water spreading its broad wings across the surface as it adds it weight and power to the already immense stored pressure. Where must this pressure go? This undaunted power that refuses to remain contained, pushing relentlessly on the flood gates until finally straining and buckling they loose there contents once again into the river.
This is how I feel about what happened with Ivy. The sudden appearance of grief. The undiminishing force of it as it pours into your soul. To try and hold something back of that magnitude would be impossible, not only impossible but unwise and wrong. To not let the grief pour out is to try and stop something that is not meant to be held. I know many of you call and ask how I am doing and sometimes I break down on the phone, other times i am not as communicative as I could be and yet others I act as though all is fine. It is difficult may days to hold it in when you are trying to accomplish what needs doing that day. From working, school, and most important family. As I mentioned above I like to compare so to be fair I must describe what happens after the dam bursts.
The clouds break, streamers of warm clean sun shining through the droplets. Refracting off of each one and throwing prizms of light out to others to repeat the effect. The pressure on the flood gates ease as other streams and rivers feeding the lake slow the flow and relieve the tension. The empty flooded landscape slowly absorbs the water and new life comes forth from the old. Fresh flowers and plants spreading accross large swaths of fields. The growth is slow but steady moving forward from a desolated bleak landscape to one filled with the sights, sounds and feeling of life.
Everytime someone calls me, talks to me or prays for me and my family it helps lessen the load. Its not always easy to talk about her but it would be a diservice to Ivy to not share all the love we had for her, and more importantly the love she had for us.
Somedays my posts will be rain, other days sunny. Even possibly a snowstorm or blizzard depending on the day. My grief runs deep, buried under many emotions that I must face and work through but more important is my love for my family and for my little Ivy.
So please do what all of you are already doing, writing, talking, calling. Everybit helps and even though I might not have the strength everyday to thank everyone I hope that they know I am borrowing on their will, love and courage to get through each day and am immensly grateful.
As always I will write again after I have sorted through my emotions. Know that I love you all with more love than I thought my heart could hold...the love of a little girl named Ivy.
Once again I love you Ivy.
Daddy
The storm broke suddenly, violent tendrils of rain streaking towards the earth. Gathering, piling, and flowing until the single drop becomes a rivulet, then a tendril, racing onward to gather in streams and flowing into rivers broad and swift. Then this unstoppable force calms as it enters into the tributary of a lake, the water spreading its broad wings across the surface as it adds it weight and power to the already immense stored pressure. Where must this pressure go? This undaunted power that refuses to remain contained, pushing relentlessly on the flood gates until finally straining and buckling they loose there contents once again into the river.
This is how I feel about what happened with Ivy. The sudden appearance of grief. The undiminishing force of it as it pours into your soul. To try and hold something back of that magnitude would be impossible, not only impossible but unwise and wrong. To not let the grief pour out is to try and stop something that is not meant to be held. I know many of you call and ask how I am doing and sometimes I break down on the phone, other times i am not as communicative as I could be and yet others I act as though all is fine. It is difficult may days to hold it in when you are trying to accomplish what needs doing that day. From working, school, and most important family. As I mentioned above I like to compare so to be fair I must describe what happens after the dam bursts.
The clouds break, streamers of warm clean sun shining through the droplets. Refracting off of each one and throwing prizms of light out to others to repeat the effect. The pressure on the flood gates ease as other streams and rivers feeding the lake slow the flow and relieve the tension. The empty flooded landscape slowly absorbs the water and new life comes forth from the old. Fresh flowers and plants spreading accross large swaths of fields. The growth is slow but steady moving forward from a desolated bleak landscape to one filled with the sights, sounds and feeling of life.
Everytime someone calls me, talks to me or prays for me and my family it helps lessen the load. Its not always easy to talk about her but it would be a diservice to Ivy to not share all the love we had for her, and more importantly the love she had for us.
Somedays my posts will be rain, other days sunny. Even possibly a snowstorm or blizzard depending on the day. My grief runs deep, buried under many emotions that I must face and work through but more important is my love for my family and for my little Ivy.
So please do what all of you are already doing, writing, talking, calling. Everybit helps and even though I might not have the strength everyday to thank everyone I hope that they know I am borrowing on their will, love and courage to get through each day and am immensly grateful.
As always I will write again after I have sorted through my emotions. Know that I love you all with more love than I thought my heart could hold...the love of a little girl named Ivy.
Once again I love you Ivy.
Daddy
Monday, November 28, 2011
Ivy Leaves - The death of a child
Starting out is always the hardest part. Moving that first step forward to begin a journey of unknown length and time, knowingly opening oneself to happiness, grief, wonder, sadness and all the emotions to come.
This is my first step. The first of many to come. Some large, some small, but always moving forward towards the acceptance and understanding that I so desperately need.
My name is Justin. I have a wonderful wife named Michele and together we have 3 wonderful daughters. Two 6 year old twins that couldn't be more different in looks or personality and our 3 year old daughter Ivy. All of our girls have special qualities about them and are special to us. One of Ivy's gifts was her long curly hair and a beautiful smile, people would stop us in the store and tell us what a beautiful child she was. We of course agreed but I do admit to being a little biased about it.
On Oct 4th 2011 I woke up at five AM to get ready for another day of school and work. I found my wife already up with Ivy. I descended the stairs to them and asked what was wrong. Ivy was feeling some pain in her stomach and felt warm to the touch. We decided that I would take her to the emergency room just to make sure that she was alright. Doing what most parents do, needing the reassurance of a professional that all was right with those we love most. My wife had been up with her so I took her to the ER and we were checked in at the desk. Ivy sat in my lap wrapped up in her favorite yellow blanket that she drew comfort from. We were taken into the ER and put in a room. Ivy laying on the bed and chatting with me about many things....minor things I know but what I would not give to remember the exact wording,,,,the phrasing and the sound of her little voice as she giggled and laughed. The nurse came in first and took her temperature it was over 103 degrees. Then they had Ivy use the restroom and save it in a cup for lab purposes. It came back with all sorts of information about white blood count and such. Many which were very high. At this point I started to worry for my little one until the doctor reassured me that it was just a urinary tract infection and that he would prescribe a oral antibiotic to take home and give to her.
Feeling much better about the situation now that I had been reassured by a professional I filled the prescription at the hospital pharmacy and immediately gave her the first dose. Carrying her in my arms with her head next to mine she was completely wrapped up in her favorite yellow blankie. As we left the building to go out to the van she wrapped her arms around my neck and said "I love you daddy" I replied that I loved her to and gave her a kiss on the cheek. As I was fastening her seatbelt she asked me " Daddy will you always protect me?" I thought it an odd question but assured her that I would always protect her from anything.
I drove her home with her quietly humming to herself in the back of the van and left her with my wife. I left for school and decided to stay late because I needed to catch up on some homework. So I turned off my phone and studied. At 1PM I turned it back on and found dozens of messages. Before I could read any of them my phone rang, it was my father telling me that Michele had gone to give Ivy her 2nd dose of antibiotics and had found her not breathing. She had performed CPR and had been taken to the hospital by ambulance and was being lifeflighted from there to Primary Childrens Medical Center in Salt Lake City. I parked my van in a lot next to school not being able to drive as tears coursed down my face. My mother drove up with my wife and picked me up. I climbed into the car and held my wife and sobbed for my little girl. Terrified beyond reason that we would wind up being one of "those other" parents that bad things happen to. Upon arrival at the hospital we sprinted in and between sobs we managed to get our daughters name out and were immediately were taken upstairs to the ICU. We were sat in a private room and asked to wait until the doctor could come see us. The doctor came in to what I can only describe as a whirlwind of questions and hysterical emotions. We found that Ivy was on a ventilator and being kept alive by machines. They did not know anything yet but suspected septic shock. Her organs had mostly shut down and was not breathing on her own. The loss and despair of this was such a numbing shock that I felt I would never feel warmth again as ice coursed through my veins and despair overwhelmed my mind.
All through the long night my wife and I, family and friends sat by her bedside holding her hand. Taking turns with her as long as possible before leaving for a short time to grieve in private. The doctor was honest and told us that it was very bad and things were not going well. I called family and friends from that hospital waiting room....pouring out my tears and fear. Losing the battle with hope I spiraled further and further into a never ending abyss. The next morning my wife and I sat together, bleary eyes and muddled minds from the long arduous night. The doctor sat with us and explained that our little ones mind was gone and there was no longer any hope. A lance of pain and agony sank itself into my soul as all hope was finally taken from us. We chose to let her go with dignity and love. So at 8:15 AM on October 5th we held our little girl in our arms for her final minutes. I held her little body as tight as I could in my arms and told her that it was ok. That I loved her and it was ok to let go. That we loved her more that anything and we would trade places with her in an instant. As family surrounded us I held my dying child in my arms and sobbed out my love to her. Burying her face with kisses. Then....she was gone and my world was over. What to do, what to say, how to live now that my child was gone. We gently laid her down on the bed and left the room.
I will stop for now but will continue the narration in a few days. A few days to shed a few more tears and ponder what I want to say next.
Even though I will think on what to put next I know that the last thing I will write today is
"I love you to Ivy"
Daddy.
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