Grief vs. Mourning

Grief can be such an isolating journey, but every now and then I seem to connect to someone who seems to understand. Sometimes it's in person and other times it's online. Either way, I'm grateful they choose to share their difficult journey with others because it reminds me that we aren't always alone.

Over the years there have been a few articles on grief that have really spoken to me. The first was the piano post, the second, a post describing grief is like a child who needs to be taken care of, and then I read a new one today. It's titled:

"Our Experience of Grief is Unique as a Fingerprint"

The article helped me make new connections that I had never made before. I hope you enjoy the author's insights as much as I did.

Do you have a favorite article on grief? If so, I'd love to know what it is. 

Gone Too Soon

It was a warm summer evening and I was counting down the minutes until my husband and I could leave for our date. It had been ages since we had been able to get away on our own. My in-laws had agreed to watch our 18-month-old daughter, Preslee, while we attended a movie. As soon as we walked through the door, Preslee took off running to join her older cousins. As I said goodbye and attempted to sneak in a quick little hug before we left, she quickly ran past me and never looked back. I smiled as I watched her play and thought to myself, ‘It will only be a couple of hours.’

My husband and I enjoyed the next few hours of rare found freedom. As we were driving out of the parking lot and headed back to my in-laws’ home, Patrick made a call to an unknown number that had called during the movie. In seconds, the atmosphere in the car changed. I could hear Patrick’s voice mix with desperation and fear as he spoke to the person on the other end of the line. I panicked as he suddenly made a U-turn and raced through a red light. I instantly knew something was terribly wrong.

My husband quickly explained that an old acquaintance, who was now a policeman, had heard our names mentioned on his work radio and immediately called Patrick’s cell phone. He told us to rush to the hospital because someone was being airlifted there. We both instantly knew it could only be one person, our daughter Preslee.

The next little bit is now a blur. The drive to the hospital. The way I felt when I called every family member back at the house to try and figure out what happened. Nobody answered. We finally pulled up to the hospital and frantically ran through the halls until we were led to the right place. We were pulled into a private waiting room where a male doctor told us our daughter was being flown to the hospital at this very moment and would arrive shortly. All he knew was she had fallen into a canal and had been in the water from anywhere from 0-30 minutes. He apologized for not knowing anymore details but told us we needed to prepare ourselves, because no matter the outcome, our lives had just changed forever.

The doctor quickly left the room and we sat there in disbelief. How did this happen? Shortly after, we were notified that Preslee had arrived. As I entered the hospital room, all I could see was a big group of doctors and nurses frantically working around a gurney. A sweet nurse noticed me and asked, ‘Are you mom?’ I nodded my head and replied, ‘yes.’ She gently grabbed me by the arm and pulled me through the group of people doing their best to save my daughter’s life and placed me right next to Preslee. At the first glance of her little face, I instantly began to cry. That’s when reality hit. She was so pale. There was no coloring left in her skin. The team of doctors worked frantically to warm her perfect little body that didn’t have a scratch on it. The nurses encouraged me to talk to her, so that’s what I did. Minutes later they detected a heartbeat.

After she had a consistent heartbeat, the doctor made the decision to fly Preslee to a bigger children’s hospital in a neighboring state. After six days of us rarely leaving her side and praying for a miracle, the doctors informed us that Preslee no longer had any brain activity and she would never regain it. We were devastated. The next day she passed away in my arms. Watching your child take their last breath is excruciating. Walking out of the hospital with empty arms is something you never really get over.

It took years to collect all the little details of what actually happened that night, but I eventually did.

With 10 adults and five kids present, anyone would assume our daughter would have been safe. But after unexpected guests rang the doorbell, a bag of popcorn started on fire, and multiple little kids ran around outside, it seems like it only took seconds for Preslee to slip past everyone and into the canal. Her absence was quickly noticed. Shortly after, adults were checking closets, window wells, and every possible hiding place. Family members were searching the neighborhood and soon after, the neighbors joined in on the search. My brother-in-law who was quickly aware of the canal in the backyard that separated the yard from the golf course began to follow it downstream. He ran alongside it for a mile and a half when he came upon a farmer who was pulling Preslee out of the water. Our sweet little girl had bumped into this farmer’s leg while he was working on the head gate in the canal. He instantly pulled her out of the water and began CPR while his brother called 911. We’ll be forever grateful to these men because not far downstream, the canal empties into a larger river. We were told there’s a good chance her body would have never been found.

Though my husband and I weren’t there, I’ll spend my life sharing her story because I’ve learned it only takes seconds for a drowning to occur. Did you know that among unintentional injuries, drowning is the second leading cause of death for children under the age of five? I had no clue. Every summer hundreds of drownings happen in pools and open water across the country. It’s heartbreaking to learn about each situation. All it takes is a turn of the head, a glance at a phone, or your attention to be held elsewhere and it can be too late.

As summer approaches and the canals and pools begin to fill with water, please learn from our experience. The number one thing we’ve changed in our home concerning water safety is that we never assume somebody else is watching our child. If I need to run inside, I vocally tell my husband he’s now in charge of watching our children, even if I plan on being away for only a minute. Our goal isn’t to scare you away from the water, but rather empower you and your family through water safety.

If you’re interested in learning more about some precautions and good rules you and your family can abide by, below is a document I helped create with a group of moms who have all had a child drown. Our hope is to educate others because most children slip silently into the water. There usually isn’t a loud noise or any splashing. It really does only take a few seconds.

Click here to download the Water Safety Printable.

This post was originally written for Love What Matters 

How to Help Someone Grieving During the Holidays

The Holidays are quickly approaching, and though it’s a magical time for most, those who have experienced a recent loss tend to struggle. Family gatherings and celebrations are often a painful reminder of what is missing in their life. As I think back over the past nine years following my daughter’s death, I realize there were many people who made a conscious effort to help us get through the Holidays. I wanted to compile different ways to help someone experiencing grief survive this time of year. 

1. Acknowledge the loss. It’s okay to acknowledge the loss. Often times people say, “I don’t want to make them sad,” but I can assure you they’ve already thought about their situation. Please realize that by saying, “I’m sorry,” at any time after someone has passed away is never inappropriate or too late.
   
   
2. Don’t be afraid to ask. We experienced Christmas just a few months after we lost our daughter. I realize it was difficult for family to know or understand the best way to help us, but I was so grateful when one side of the family asked how they could make it easier for us. I was thankful they asked, because though I loved my nephews and nieces, I didn’t want to watch them open presents. I just couldn’t. I felt guilty for feeling this way, but couldn't help it. When a family member asked how they could help, I was grateful to be given the opportunity to quietly share my feelings. After conversing, we decided that my husband and I would take off a little early on Christmas Eve before they opened presents. In contrast, when we visited the other side on Christmas day, I didn’t dare speak up and they carried on with tradition as usual. After watching the kids open presents, I went downstairs and cried. It made for a difficult day.
   
   
   
3. Think about all family members. I’ll be the first to admit that it’s a million times easier finding a grief related gift for women than it is men and boys, but one thing I’ve observed is that males need to know they have support too. Try to acknowledge everyone in the family, including children. One year I dropped off a gift for a neighbor who had recently lost his brother. His wife later told me that it was the first time he had been given a gift, everyone else had only thought about his parents. Since then I’ve made a conscious effort to focus on more than just the female(s) in the family.  Here are some gift suggestions for men -here, and children - here.
   
   
   
4. Take Action. While grieving, it’s not uncommon to find it difficult to celebrate. A great way to help someone grieving is by incorporating their loved one into the holiday. Christmas ornaments, decor, jewelry, or even decorating headstones can be a great way to help remind them their loved one won’t be forgotten. When my husband and I struggled to decorate that first year, my dad showed up on our doorstep a few days before Christmas with a tree and angel ornaments in hand. (Read more about it here) I bawled while decorating the tree and was grateful for his unwavering support. I could tell he was nervous, but I’m so grateful he decided to act. To this day, we still decorate our angel tree with the same ornaments he bought us and use it as a way to incorporate Preslee during the Holidays.
5. Lighten their load. The holidays can be a stressful time of year for many different reasons, but when grief gets mixed in, it becomes just plain hard. One way to help relieve the stress of those grieving is by lightening their load. Whether it be dropping off paper products to help with dishes, making/buying dinner, or shoveling their walk way, your act of kindness won’t go unnoticed.
   
   
   
6. Read. If you aren’t familiar with the grieving process, take a few minutes and look into it. One of the best ways to support someone is learning more about their situation. This will help you understand what they need and will hopefully help you be a little more sympathetic to their situation. My aunt sent some information on grief to my parents right before the Holidays and my mom later shared with me how grateful she was for it. Understanding the grieving process will go a long ways and might just give you a little glimpse of why they are reacting or feeling the way that they are.

I know we’re not alone in this, because so many of you have shared similar experiences. Was there something that someone specifically did that helped you during the Holidays that I missed? If so, let us know, below.

Give Presentlee’s christmas project

The first Christmas after losing Preslee was awful. With no kids to focus on, and missing Preslee more than we could bare, Pat and I didn’t even discuss Christmas. I just couldn’t get myself to go there. We didn’t decorate, we didn’t watch a single Christmas movie, we avoided it all costs. We desperately hoped family wouldn’t ask us to watch nephews and nieces open presents that year. We just couldn’t do it.



To our surprise, about a week before Christmas, people began showing up. A tree was brought into our home and decorated. People dropped off incredibly thoughtful gifts. Anonymous cards with money were sent and gave us the push to Christmas shop for family members. And a stranger even sent us a gift card to Texas Roadhouse and told us she wanted us to have something to look forward to. We ended up inviting some friends and I remember actually laughing that night, something that I hadn’t done much of in months.
Every Christmas I think back to that time and recognize how much every act of kindness meant to us. People’s actions truly made a difference in our lives and I’ve wanted to be able to do the same ever since.

This year on December 17th, and what would be Preslee’s 10th Birthday, the Give Presentlee Foundation wants to make a difference for other families. We want to show up on multiple doorsteps (or send packages) and spread a little hope to those struggling this year just like we were eight years ago.



Last year our Give Presentlee Bags were a HUGE SUCCESS because of so many of YOU! This year we’re asking for your help again and there’s two ways to get involved.


Nominate - Our mission with the Give Presentlee Foundation is to help families affected by tragedy. Do you know a family or individual that has experienced something difficult and could use a little extra help this holiday season? If so, we would love to learn more about them and their situation. Please fill out this form to have them considered for a donation on December 17th. We will most likely be sending/giving cash to help with Christmas (Or other things if we see fit) and anyone in the US can be considered.


Donate- Last year while we were compiling bags (to learn more about this project, click here, and scroll down to the bottom of the page) for Primary Children’s Hospital, we were blown away with how many people wanted to contribute. It was because of so many of YOU that our project was an incredible success! If you’re looking to donate this Holiday season, we would love to be considered. The more money we can raise means the more people we can help. We will be using the money Presentlee donated from all the purchases made throughout the year, and we promise ALL of the donations made will be given to this cause.

You can donate here or just below.

Thank you!

Thank you to everyone who has purchased from Presentlee this year. This really was the main reason we launched the store, it was my hope to find a way to give back and you’ve helped us accomplish it.

Thank you to all those who continually support us with our endeavors for Preslee’s Birthday. We have such an amazing support system and will be forever grateful.

18 Months

(Oaklee)

A little before Oaklee turned one years old, I began feeling anxious. With Oaklee being our last, I thought I was mourning the fact that we were leaving the baby phase behind. But six months later, the anxiety only heightened. I was short, ornery, and impatient with the kids and didn’t know why. Feeling desperate, I decided to do what I used to, I sat down to write… and as my fingers began typing, it didn’t me long to understand.

(Oaklee)

The difficult thing about grief is that it doesn’t seem to always present itself the same way. Therefore, it isn’t always easy to identify what is being felt. It’s easy to mistake it for something else, especially years down the road when grief isn’t as constant anymore.

I came to realize I had been pushing thoughts and  emotions aside. And though it might not make sense, I realized I was grieving a new chapter we were about to enter into. Since Oaklee is our last baby, once she turns 19 months, Preslee becomes our youngest—forever. And in a way, it seems like we’re leaving her behind. I know that it doesn’t necessarily make sense, but suddenly our family is moving forward- without her.

(Preslee)

Over the past few months, I feel like I’ve taken about a million steps backward as I’ve felt anger and resentment come to the surface again. I’ve seen so many nine year olds (The age Preslee would be) thriving and loving life. Many are developing talents and it makes me wonder what Preslee would have been into. When I look at Oaklee and think about where Preslee should be, and at what age we lost her, I’ve deeply mourned all that we’ve missed.

Joseph Smith once taught:

"The mother who laid down her little child, being deprived of the privilege, the joy, and the satisfaction of bringing it up to manhood or womanhood in this world, would, after the resurrection, have all the joy, satisfaction, and pleasure, and even more than it would have been possible to have had in mortality, in seeing her child grow to the full measure of stature of it's spirit...When she does it there, it will be with the certain knowledge that the results will be without failure; whereas here, the results are unknown until after we have passed the test."

(Oaklee)

As I think about what lays ahead of me, I marvel at His plan - that He cares enough to give me the blessing of raising my daughter from the exact moment we said goodbye. Having an 18 month old in the house is always bittersweet, but I made sure to pay extra attention to the little reminders I had of Preslee throughout the last couple of months.

(Preslee)

As sisters they share the same hair, nose, and many facial expressions. They both have a love for lipstick and necklaces. And I adore the way they both light up when I take them shoe shopping, or turn Elmo on. I hope to never forget the way they both wrap their little arms around me to give me a hug while simultaneously saying “momma” in my ear. It melts me every single time.

Someday.

(Preslee)

Someday I’ll experience all that I’ve missed. But until then, I’ll keep trudging forward, holding on to the promise of holding Preslee in my arms again. But, until that day, I’ll continue trying my best to handle whatever grief throws my way. But I do know all will be okay -

Someday.

Christmas in heaven

I made a late night Target run for diapers. I enjoyed my alone time in the car and when I entered the store, I immediately noticed the Christmas section to my right. Without hesitation I turned and walked directly toward it and was practically giddy over the thought of browsing the décor without fear of one of my twin boys breaking something fragile. 

I happily walked up and down the isles, taking my time and stopping to admire the flocked trees and Christmas lights. I was about to skip over the ornament isle until I noticed a cluster of pink ornaments, which instantly made me think of Preslee. Realizing we were about to make a trip up to Idaho for the Holidays, I began searching for an ornament to take to the cemetery.

Multiple ornaments caught my eye and as I was admiring birds and a pink little reindeer, I noticed a pink hot air balloon with Santa standing in the basket.

I instantly knew that was the ornament I wanted. It symbolized Santa taking Christmas to heaven for me and without warning, I was fighting back tears. I quickly turned away from the male employee standing next to me and concentrated on getting my emotions under control.

(Preslee’s 1st Birthday. I was wondering why it was so dark, and then I remembered the power went out while we were eating cake :)

I stood there longer than I would have liked, but as I stared down at the little pink ornament in my hands, my thoughts turned to missing Preslee for the Holidays. It was then I realized that her Birthday was less than a month away, and in that very moment I couldn’t remember how old she would be turning, “Was it eight? No nine? I’m pretty sure nine.” I had to do the math, and I realized it was the first time I had forgotten her age. Reality sunk in. Preselee had been gone long enough that I couldn’t remember how old she would be. It was devastating and I felt awful for forgetting. It made me feel like I had failed as her mother.

It had been such a long time since I’d had such an intense experience with grief, but just like after an earthquake strikes, so do the aftershocks – and you never really know when those will come. I took a couple of deep breaths and realized the longer I stood there, the tears weren’t going to stop. So I quickly turned around, kept my head down, and with the ornament in hand, walked to the other side of the store to find diapers leaving the sound of Christmas music behind me.

Every year it seems like grief teaches me another lesson. Year seven taught me that even though I don’t experience as grief as often as I used to, when those moments hit now, they can be as intense as they were in the early days. I’ve learned to let it run it’s course, because if I fight it, the damage is usually worse in the end.

I’ve come to realize that even though I might have forgotten her age during that painful moment, what I haven’t forgotten is how much I love her or how grateful I am to be her momma. I still think about her every single day and will never stop missing her.

Happy 9th Birthday, Monkey. We’re celebrating big with cake and will be donating bags to Primary Children’s Hospital in your name later this week. This has been by far the best Birthday week we’ve experienced in the past seven years due to all the donations and sweet notes arriving in the packages each day. We love and miss you more than words can say, and I desperately hope someone gave you a hug for me.

Love,

Momma

Lets Talk About Grief

I recently received a message telling me I needed to stop sulking and since I’ve been able to have more kids, it’s time to get over my situation.

I’ll be honest, the comment made me a little upset. But after letting some time pass, I realized though I understand why I write what I do, and I’m pretty certain those who have been here from the beginning understand, my blog has grown over the years and new readers might not understand why I continue to write about death and grief.

After Preslee died, I was shocked at what grief entailed. Why hadn’t anybody talked about this? Why didn’t I understand what was happening to me? Was I crazy? Was what I experiencing normal? I didn’t know many people who had lost children, so I felt completely alone and overwhelmed.

Just following Preslee’s funeral, I honestly never expected anyone to check back in again on the blog. But as people continued to leave comments and send e-mails, (I’ve been blessed with the most incredible support group) I decided to write a post about grief. I was astounded at the outpouring of love I received. Many people shared that they had  experienced the same feelings and emotions, and let me know that I wasn’t crazy. Though I was grateful for the many responses, it left me confused. Why was death such a taboo topic? I’ve come to learn that everyone will be affected by death at some point in their life, and if all these people who reached out to me felt the same way, why did people get so uncomfortable when I said my daughter’s name?

I promise, I’ll always be the first to say I have been blessed beyond measure. I still can’t believe less than six years after Preslee’s death we have four other children in our home, (another girl included!) There’s never a day I take them for granted.  But even though I have them, it doesn’t mean that I don’t experience grief at times. As bad as I wish I could just wash it all aside, I can’t. I’ve learned it doesn’t really work that way. The harder I fight it, the worse it seems to become. So I’ve learned to let it run its course, trying to function the best way I know how to at the time. 

So, why do I continue to write?

My goal is to simply educate. Over the years I’ve received letters sharing that my posts have helped them realize they aren’t alone in what they are experiencing. I feel like I was lucky enough to have many of you reassure me that happiness could return, and the hope you gave me was simply irreplaceable. My goal is to do the same for others.

I also hope to let those who haven’t experienced a loss understand that grief doesn’t suddenly disappear a year later. It truly is a life long journey, and that it really is okay to grieve. I’ve told Pat, time and time again, if what I write helps just one person, it’s completely worth being vulnerable and opening up to the world. 

So, next time you stumble across one of my post on grief, please don’t mistake it for anything other than trying to share what I’ve learned. I’m not looking for pity, or even sulking. This journey through life can be difficult, my hope is we can get through it, together.

Seven Years

Today marks seven years since we said goodbye to our sweet little girl. My arms ache to hold her, and what I wouldn’t do to be able to look at her, just for a moment.

Each year the overwhelming emotions return, and as hard as I try, I can’t help but review the last 24 hours we had with her in my mind. This year, my grief seems a little confusing, as it seems to be tangled with Preslee and the loss of my Grandma Siddoway.

We attended my Grandma’s funeral on the 12th, which made Pat and I a little emotional having it on the same week as Preslee’s Angelversary. My Grandma was buried next to Preslee in the Sutton Cemetery, and after placing a rose on her casket, I stepped off to the side, and took a look around. I couldn’t help but notice all the changes that have taken place in the past seven years.

Our family has grown in so many ways, cousins have married, 16 babies have been born, (including four of our own) and what stuck out to me the most was the toddlers who attended Preslee’s funeral, are now eight years old, which stung a quite bit.

I’ve learned patience and empathy. Experienced love and pain, all of which have taught me unforgettable lessons. I think the biggest area of growth stems from realizing I have an anchor in heaven waiting for me, cheering and rooting me on. Losing Preslee has given me an eternal perspective and influences many of the decisions I make on a daily basis. I was reminded of the important things to focus on as I was listening to my dad and uncle talk about my Grandma during her funeral.  

(My Grandma Siddoway is in the blue.)

Though it’s Preslee’s Angelversary, my grief is without a doubt a tangled mess with the memories of two people. Each year on this day, I find myself praying, asking for someone to give Preslee a hug for me, because it’s what I long for the most. Today l realized that it’s the first time I know with certainty that my prayer will be answered, because there’s no doubt in my mind, my Grandma will be the one to do it.  

What a bittersweet gift to be given.

Here’s to one year closer to seeing them both.

Little White Dress

A few weeks ago, after speaking at A Reason to Stand, a sweet lady came up and shared that she too had lost a child, 25 years ago. She made the comment that I was still so fresh and new to the grieving process. Her words surprised me, because being six years out, and constantly learning of so many kids who pass away, I often feel like I’m an old timer. Her comment has changed the way I react to my grief, and I’m thankful.

This past Sunday, Pat and I were scrambling to get everyone ready for 9:00 am church. I slept in, due to being up most of the night with Oaklee, and it was a struggle to get everyone up and going. I went to Oaklee’s closet and realized her dress was nowhere to be found, and instead of looking for it, I just grabbed a little white dress that had belonged to Preslee. Oaklee has worn a handful of Preslee’s outfits, so I didn’t think twice about it. Before I ran downstairs to jump in the car, I reached for a blanket in Oaklee’s closet, not paying much attention to which one I grabbed, and made it to the car just as Pat had finished buckling everyone in.

We walked into church with just one minute to spare. Pat sat down holding Oaklee, and a little later handed her to me. I immediately laid her on my lap and when I glanced down at her, my grief immediately pounced, and tears began to fall. As I looked at Oaklee, everything screamed Preslee. From her dress, to her face that is rounding out more and more like Preslee’s, she was even chewing on two little fingers like Preslee did. I could have sworn I was back attending church in Philadelphia with Preslee on my lap. The only thing missing was a big gerber daisy bow.

(Preslee 2009)

The harder I tried to stop the tears, the faster they fell. That’s when I noticed the blanket… it had been given to Preslee in the hospital right before she passed away, and the mix of the two was just too much for me to handle at the moment. Seconds later, Pat reached across the bench to tap me on the shoulder and ask me what was wrong. I just shook my head, feeling embarrassed, and said I was fine. I hated that I couldn’t shake an old memory that had resurfaced, and it left a consuming ache in my chest to hold Preslee again.

I often feel embarrassed in situations like this. I’m usually so tired of grieving that I wonder when these moments will ever come to an end. I tend to get a little hard on myself, and sternly tell myself to stop crying. But as I was nursing Oaklee in the mother’s lounge during the second hour of church, the comment made by that sweet lady came to mind and changed my way of thinking. With an entire life left to live, I really am in the beginning stages of grief. Though I don’t grieve on a daily basis anymore, there are still moments that take my breath away and leave me trying to figure out the best way to handle the new situation I’ve been presented with.

I now vow to be softer on myself. If you’re anything like me, and have moments you feel like you should be further along in your grief, I hope you’ll join me and try to change the way you think. No matter where we are in our journey, there will be moments that unexpectedly arise, and as painful as they might be, I hope we can learn to embrace them. Because if I’ve learned anything over the past six years, it’s how holy grief truly is. Though it is overwhelming, grief stems from the love we have for those we’ve lost, and I wouldn’t trade that love for anything.

After Sunday’s experience, I think I’ll hold on to that little white dress, even after Oaklee outgrows it. It will serve as a reminder to be a little softer on myself. Grief will continually be teaching me new lessons, and instead of fighting it, someday, I hope I can learn to fully embrace it.

Eight

Preslee died and grief consumed me. It hijacked my thoughts, emotions, and almost every aspect of my life. That first year following her death, I found myself in a dark place and the grief was unbearable. Then our sweet Ledger was born and he brought sunshine back into our lives. I learned very quickly that my grief had entailed two separate things that I had lumped into one. I had not only been grieving the death of my daughter, but I was also grieving the actions of being a mom. Ledger’s birth instantly softened my grief and he lightened my heavy load.

July 2011- Ledger

Five years have passed since Ledger’s arrival, and though each year the intensity of grief seems to soften with time, anniversaries, major holidays, and birthdays always tend to open the door and grief comes rushing back in at full force. Until recently, I assumed this is how grief works, and it will continue at this intensity for the rest of my life.

This past December, we celebrated Preslee’s 8th Birthday. Yes, her 8th. It’s a little hard to believe, isn’t it? We planned our annual trip to Temple Square and as I was looking at the Temple surrounded by twinkling Christmas lights, I realized something was different this year. Though I drastically missed our little girl, and tears had come earlier that day, something was different, my grief was reasonably lighter.  Recognizing my piano must have shifted again, (Read piano explanation here) I knew there was more to it. I could feel it. As I walked down the sidewalk looking at the millions of lights, I looked down at the stroller I was pushing, and at my one month old bundled up in it. That’s when it dawned on me, the difference was Oaklee.

Instead of grieving over every little detail of Preslee’s Birthday, wondering what it would be like to celebrate with girly decorations, or what an eight year old little girl’s Birthday party would be like, I realized one day I’ll be able to experience it, with Oaklee.

Standing there in the middle of hundreds of people at Temple Square, I realized I’ve been grieving two different things, Preslee’s death, and raising a daughter. As I stared at Oaklee, I realized my load was lighter, and it was freeing. Without worrying about every little detail related to raising a girl, I could now can solely focus on missing Preslee, which makes my grief seem a little more sacred and not so overwhelming.

Though Oaklee will never take Preslee’s place, I’m extremely grateful for Oaklee’s arrival and the future that lies ahead of us. Because of her, dance classes, girls nights, and buying a baptism dress are now in reach, and it’s nearly impossible to convey what that means.

Once again, I’m thankful for an infant who has softened my grief and lightened my heavy load. For a loving Heavenly father who has trusted me to be a mom to five special kids. They have and will continue to do far more for Pat and I, than we will ever do for them.

Sisters

Just after returning home from the hospital, my friend gave me a gift for Oaklee. With a new baby in my arms and more hormones than I knew what to do with, I’m sure you can imagine my reaction when I saw the picture below.

When we learned we were expecting a girl, I was ecstatic. Not only were we going to have another little girl in our home again, but one of my first thoughts was that we were going to have two girls – sisters! I was the only girl growing up in my family, sandwiched right in-between two boys, so the fact I was going to be able to give my girls a sister literally made me incredibly excited.

The excitement didn’t last long when just seconds later I remembered our situation. I realized that Oaklee would never know her sister in this life. Disappointed, I quickly pushed the thought aside, and relished over the fact we were having another little girl.

As I was driving home from my ultrasound, I remembered a handful of e-mails I received following our pregnancy announcement, just months after losing Preslee. Friends and strangers shared how their older sibling had passed away when they were young, or even before they were born. Almost all of them let me know they really did have a relationship with their sibling who who had passed away. Some went on to share personal experiences that left me speechless, and some were more broad, but they all encouraged Pat and I to talk about Preslee to our kids, and include her in our family, because they knew she would be in our home often.

It was during that drive home, I realized Preslee and Oaklee’s relationship might not be what I wanted or even hoped for, but I have no doubt these two sisters can have a relationship, and I’m hopeful.

As a mom of two girls, I’ll do what I can to help form a relationship between the two of them. I hope this picture stays up in Oaklee’s room for years to come, reminding her of the sweet guardian angel who looks over her,and the person she’s lucky enough to call her sister.

Let There Be No Empty Chairs

If I have one dream,
to be surrounded by all my children.

Ezra Taft Benson, a former President of  the LDS church, and his wife used to make their home their top priority. As they would teach their children the gospel, they would also emphasize they wanted their family to have no “empty chairs,” in the eternities.

Months ago we bought a new kitchen table. It seats six and contains a leaf that creates plenty of room to grow. I instantly fell in love with this table when I saw it in the store. It was being sold with gorgeous white tufted chairs, but with three young boys, I instantly knew they would be ruined after one meal. So I swapped them out for something sturdy that I knew could withstand our crazy boys… One day right?

After the table was delivered, I was absolutely giddy. I could hardly wait to eat dinner on it. For eight years we had owned a tiny little table that was difficult to fit our entire family around. Often times, Pat or I wouldn’t eat at the table with the kids, it was just too small.

That night as we sat down for dinner,  I happily looked around the table. I had cooked one of our favorite meals, our boys were spread out and weren’t fighting or stealing each other’s food, (Amazing right?) and everything seemed perfect. As I sat across from Pat, my eyes unexpectedly fell on the empty chair next to him. Without warning, tears started streaming down my face. That empty chair screamed to me that we were missing Preslee. 

I was instantly embarrassed. The last thing I wanted Pat to see was me crying after he bought me a brand new table. As I tried to hide my tears, I felt two little arms wrap around me. Ledger, my observant little five year old, had quietly climbed out of his chair and walked over to give me a hug. He didn’t say anything, he usually doesn’t, but he just stood there with his arms tightly wrapped around me. As I stared at that empty chair, the direct thought came to mind, “It won’t be forever.”

Since then, that empty chair has served as a reminder that Preslee is still our anchor up in heaven. Though life and trials can be difficult and consuming, it really is true, they won’t last forever. I desperately hope Pat and I can teach our boys that they can do hard things and though it won’t always be easy, hopefully my dream will one day come true—that there really won’t be any empty chairs.

"God intended the family to be eternal," President Benson has said. "With all my soul, I testify to the truth of that declaration. May He bless us to strengthen our homes and lives of each family member so that in due time we can report to our Heavenly Father in His celestial home that we are all there - father, mother, sister, brother. . . . Each chair is filled. We are all back home." (The Teachings of Ezra Taft Benson, page 493.)

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I loved President Benson’s message so much that I reached out to Robin, at Chirp Chirp Designs to create a rustic custom sign to be hung above our table. I absolutely love how it turned out and everything it stands for. Robin has agreed to team up with us for a $50 giveaway for one of our readers to her shop! She’s incredibly talented and wonderful to work with. She has now made three custom signs for our family, all of which I love. 

TO ENTER:

1. Follow The Sullengers and Chirp Chirp Designs on Instagram.
2. Like the photo of the sign shown above on The Sullengers Instagram account.
3. Comment on the same photo tagging two friends. Each other friend tagged will be an extra entry.

The winner will be announced Saturday night at 10am MST. Good luck!