Rabbit Trails...

Funny. Before I even begin this post, I side tracked. As I wrote the title.. I had to chuckle. You see, tonight is the eve of Ressurection Day... more commonly known as Easter. Get it??.. Easter.. rabbit trails.. hardy har har.

I was caught up in the quiet of the kitchen. The boys were all sleeping, my girl was in the other room.. I finally had the peace I'd been longing for all day. I was peeling eggs for the deviled eggs and making corn muffins; just thinking about tomorrow morning. I was envisioning the boy's faces when they see their Easter baskets. Picturing them, along with my neices, and the Easter egg hunt we'll have tomorrow in the backyard >>sigh<<. Just enjoying the solitude.

Mentally, I was going over the menu for tomorrow and craving the scent of what's to come. But as I was pulling out the muffin pan, I came across the service ware that I ALWAYS use for special occasions. I received it as a wedding gift; a beautiful silver plated platter and serving spoon with a glass baking dish. Every year at Thanksgiving, usually, I use it to bake my Praline Sweet Potatoes in. I scarcely remember using it for anything else. It's a side dish I made up that is in the makings to be a tradition. We don't have many of those anymore. I sorta left those behind when I moved away; alone now to make different traditions for my little family. One of them being my Praline Sweet Potatoes, served in this particular dish.

After each use, I have to wash and carefully wrap the silver pieces so that they don't tarnish. They have a brilliant mirrored reflection where they are covered, but in the few spots that are exposed, it is darkened. But I love this piece. It's so special to me.

So as I dutifully peeled the eggs, my mind wandered back to the meal for tomorrow. Drinks: check. Napkins: check. Paper Plates: check. (yes, I said paper plates.) For some reason, this seems weird to me to have paper plates. I really don't know why. I wasn't raised using China or crystal, and in all reality, paper plates are much more practical. No fuss, no muss. I was even taking inventory of how many aluminum trays I have to make the side dishes in. Heat, eat and toss. I was thinking about how much easier it's gonna be on me to use good 'ol Chinette. Then I crossed over to the silver dish. Honestly, I didn't wanna have to unwrap the platter and unwrap the spoon... wipe it out before I use it..hand wash each piece when we're done and re-wrap it in the tissue paper that is now all wrinkled and tattered. Then it hit me. Well, more like tapped me on the shoulder.

"Then Mary took a pound of very costly oil of spikenard, anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped His feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil..." John 12:3

Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day my Savior conquered death. But somehow it turned into just hosting my family for Easter Dinner. Don't get me wrong, we are going to church in the morning and we will say a prayer of thanksgining before we eat. Even though I LOVE to have people over, amidst the hustle and bustle of preparations, it became a chore for me. It turned into corner cutting and second best. Oh how humbling it is to realize this.

"But Jesus said, 'Let her alone; she has kept this for the day of My burial. For the poor you have with you always, but Me
you do not have always'..." John 12:7-8

Tomorrow is a day to celebrate. I earnestly desire to celebrate the One who gave His life for me. I will remind my children of the story of Jesus' death on a cross. I will believe in Him to fill my home with His presence. I will honor Him by what I do for my family in remembrance of Him. I will worship Him by serving my sweet potatoes in my silver dish.

Here we go again... journal entry 11-30-09

If I only would have realized what the hell I would be putting myself thru every year I may not have opted to wait so long to give birth to Charlotte after she died. Every stinkin' year since, I have had a really crappy first week of December. A whole week that sucks.

There is the 1st, which is the day she died and then the 7th, the day she was born. So which do I mourn for? Both.

I remember sitting at the funeral home telling the Director that I wanted to have her buried quickly because I didn't want it to drag into the Christmas holiday and forever have the attachment to Jesus' birth as being the day of my daughters' burial. I just didn't think thru that part of the suffering at that point. I was a little shell shocked.

Over the past couple of months, I've had the urge to come and update or write about the little things that reminded me of Charlotte, but I was able to resist it. A marker of *growth*, of moving on, or so I thought. Three years has come and gone and it is not nearly as difficult as it used to be.

Truth is, I didn't even want to come on tonight. I didn't want to hop on and hear that song or see those tiny fingers on the screen. It is still hard. I'm still hurting. Not wretching in pain like before, but a dull ache. I can take a deep breath now, but I also notice little girls often.

So the month of November is a big blur. I seriously feel like I have lost yet another chunk of my life. Poof! It's gone. And I can never get it back.

When I was pregnant with Charlotte, I was 31. It was a rough year. I finally came out of my fog at 33, almost 34. That's two whole years I feel like I just floated right thru. I remember some things that happened in the 2 years since she has been gone, but for the most part, I feel like I'm just now picking myself up and dusting my ass off. I was stunned. I guess that's the best way I could put it.

This month, my oldest daughter became very ill. So ill that she'd spent almost 2 weeks in the hospital. The doctors didn't know what was happening with her and one doctor rold me that they didn't know why she hadn't died. It was that serious. They considered leukemia, and drew out some of her bone marrow. It was a very scary time. They have since determined it to be a blood disorder (possibly hereditary). And although I'm relieved to know what it is.. so many emotions have washed over me. She seems to be healing really well now and I'm so thankful for that. So there is no logical reason for me to be freaking out. But I do from time to time.

She was in the hospital twice. Once for a week and the other for 5 days. The doctors sent us home on November 11th, at that time without a proper diagnosis. (We didn't get that until later). And the sad thing is.. all I could think about was how on November 11th (2006), I was sent home from an ultrasound appointment with hopeful news that Charlotte would be ok. That all of her problems had *cleared up*.

Then she died on December 1st.

When *A* and I left the hospital on this November 11th, I was terrified of the next 2 weeks. And tonight, I'm afraid of tomorrow morning. Maybe I'll pull an all nighter and not go to sleep. Then I won't have to wake up to December 1st all over again. I've got 6 minutes to go....