When I think back to where I was a year ago today, there are few words to describe the emotions. I was making the transition from the hospital to home. I was broken, grief stricken, in extended shock. I was planning a funeral. Something I knew nothing about, nor had any desire to know anything about. Picking out clothes to wear to the second worst day of my life. I also had a newborn baby needing love and care and having no idea what was happening to his little world, this new world he had not known or seen just 7 days before. I had two little boys shattered, confused, and sad. Their world had become so insecure. When I think back to a year ago, this place…this new year, did not seem fathomable. I wanted none of what the next year had in store for me, for us. I did not find comfort in prayer. What had been the confidence of His presence that night, turned into a bitterness for His unwillingness to save him, save our lives as we knew them. I lived in a nightmare filled with physical and emotional pain on many levels. It was unbearable, but unavoidable.

I am so grateful to all of the family, friends, neighbors, community members, and complete strangers who came together to do whatever they could to take care of us during that time, and for many months after. They didn’t have words, they really couldn’t say anything that would help, but they had arms and hands and hearts. They cooked and cleaned and shoveled and mowed and brought diapers. They raised money and they raised prayers. They loved us. We were loved. We were broken and confused, but we were held up by the kindness of others.

What has a year brought us…it has moved an infant to a baby and on to a toddler in what feels like lightening speed. The boys finished a school year and started a new one. We have had countless appointments. Doctors, therapies, support groups, and church groups. I have healed from my injuries and spent many months rehabilitating my body. I still fight with regular pain, but I am the mother of three rambunctious (and heavy) boys who keep me moving, lifting, and going. The mind is the hardest thing to heal, that is a work in progress. We have painted some walls and changed a few things in our decor. We have cried a million and one tears. We have laughed at ourselves, at silly things, at life. We have slept and not slept. We have eaten A LOT of kid food. We have traveled and celebrated big days. We have visited his grave and taken time to reminisce. He lives in us, the boys have even channeled his break dancing skills…good times. We remember him less painfully and more joyfully now.

For anyone who may be unfortunate enough to be on this road of grief, I would love to say that a year brings peace and understanding and comfort. But I have come to believe that those things may never come easily or be attainable. We don’t get to understand tragedy. We don’t find comfort in loss. We don’t have peace with it. What we get is perspective, time, and grace. Grace to be a mess and to know we don’t want to be a mess. Grace to live and to be afraid to live. Time laid out in front of us that we can choose to live in light or darkness. Time laid out behind us so we can see how far we have traveled…we are doing it! Perspective to see that our life and the lives of those around us are important and worth living even in the most painful moments.

Many songs have played over and over at various times in my head in the last year. I often wonder what they are doing in there and why I hear the same ones so frequently. I choose to think its his memory or his energy reminding me of things and sometimes helping me along. In those songs I am reminded that life is a journey, not a destination and so we all need to love like crazy! I know Tony is proud. I know he would be smiling. I know he loved us like crazy.

Today I saw a cloud that looked like a snail and a butterfly all at once. What a beautiful example of what this road is like. Slow and steady…but a butterfly waiting to emerge. In my new life, I will fly again. I will spread my wings and so did he when he went on to the other side. When I see remarkable things in nature I always think of him. He loved the outdoors. And no, I don’t think he is making cloud formations for me…only God can speak through nature. I believe he is nudging me to notice them and sometimes – almost all the time – its right when I needed an answer, a hug, a breath. I hope there are angels.

Blessings to all!