Post by jennasmommy on Mar 20, 2009 15:14:18 GMT -5
Happy 5th Birthday Jenna!
Five years have passed since you blessed our lives. Five years since we first saw your beautiful face. Five years since we’ve held you. Five years since we were told you were fighting for your life. Five years since you broke our hearts when you died.
Our lives have changed so much since then. Our grief, though ever present, has evolved and changed as well. Your daddy and I were talking the other day that though we don’t speak of you as often, we both think of you every day. Your death did not remove you from our family and it hurts us so much when people act as though it did. We still count you as one of our daughters as we forever will. We still miss you every day. Yes, we have moved on in a sense. We now have your sister Emilia and enjoy the happiness she brings to our family. But you will forever be our second daughter. Your death changed our lives forever.
Maria reminded me the other night that this is the year you would be starting kindergarten. It hit me like a ton of bricks…thinking that you would be old enough to be starting school. Where have these 5 years gone?
I wonder if you would have loved heading off on this new adventure or if you would have been scared and begged me not to take you. I would have been crying as I walked away from your classroom knowing you were more ready then I was to start this new phase of your life. Your daddy and I would enjoy hearing all your stories about school and your new friends.
When I picture you in my mind, I most often see this beautiful little baby. Sometimes, in my dreams I see a sandy brown haired little girl and wonder if it’s you. I imagine your voice and how hearing you say Mommy would sound so sweet. I constantly watch for signs from you, believing that you are still with us. So often when I’m thinking of you, often times in the car when all is quiet, I will see something…it can be as simple as a license plate with your initials on it or a butterfly dancing through the air…but it gives me hope. Many people don’t believe in those types of signs, believe they are just coincidence but I still feel you. Your presence in our family is still very strong. I am continually amazed by it.
Though Emilia never met you physically she speaks of you as though she knew you. She cries about you saying she misses seeing you and always calls you her “other big sister.” I didn’t think she’d really understand anything about you until she was much older but she does.
This year it’s hit me harder again…more like your first birthday. Typically I can expect to be more weapy, more introspective and just plain sad around your anniversary dates. But this 5th birthday has hit me much earlier. The past few months I have been that way. I will hear one of the many songs I dedicate to you and not just shed a tear but sob…not just miss you but feel my heartbreak once again. I’m not sure if it’s the pure sadness that it’s already been 5 years or if it’s hitting so hard that you would in deed be a big girl now, starting school, riding a bike, joining Girl Scouts…all those milestones. I just know the pain is raw again and the heartache never ceases.
This got me to thinking what we could do for your birthday…release doves or balloons again? Sing, read, cry? All of these things we’ve done and yet don’t feel they were right for this birthday. We decided we wanted to do something to help another child. What better way to honor you then to try and make another child’s life better in some way? We are in the process of choosing a sponsor child to sponsor and communicate with. We hope to find a little girl around your age that we can help and watch grow up.
Your life and death taught us so much, we don’t ever want to forget all that we learned from you. We learned that a parents love isn’t always enough to save their children. We learned we are not guaranteed anything in this life and therefore we must try to be the best people we can be so that one-day we will be reunited with you. We learned that taking life or each other for granted is one of the worst mistakes we can make.
We were reminded that you don’t have to be able to see something or someone to know they are with you. We learned to believe that love is stronger then all physical boundaries. Our lives often times take directions we don’t expect and we often times are faced with situations we don’t think we will ever survive. Yet, by the grace of God and the help of loved ones we persevere…because we must.
We love you and miss you terribly Jenna.
Mommy
Five years have passed since you blessed our lives. Five years since we first saw your beautiful face. Five years since we’ve held you. Five years since we were told you were fighting for your life. Five years since you broke our hearts when you died.
Our lives have changed so much since then. Our grief, though ever present, has evolved and changed as well. Your daddy and I were talking the other day that though we don’t speak of you as often, we both think of you every day. Your death did not remove you from our family and it hurts us so much when people act as though it did. We still count you as one of our daughters as we forever will. We still miss you every day. Yes, we have moved on in a sense. We now have your sister Emilia and enjoy the happiness she brings to our family. But you will forever be our second daughter. Your death changed our lives forever.
Maria reminded me the other night that this is the year you would be starting kindergarten. It hit me like a ton of bricks…thinking that you would be old enough to be starting school. Where have these 5 years gone?
I wonder if you would have loved heading off on this new adventure or if you would have been scared and begged me not to take you. I would have been crying as I walked away from your classroom knowing you were more ready then I was to start this new phase of your life. Your daddy and I would enjoy hearing all your stories about school and your new friends.
When I picture you in my mind, I most often see this beautiful little baby. Sometimes, in my dreams I see a sandy brown haired little girl and wonder if it’s you. I imagine your voice and how hearing you say Mommy would sound so sweet. I constantly watch for signs from you, believing that you are still with us. So often when I’m thinking of you, often times in the car when all is quiet, I will see something…it can be as simple as a license plate with your initials on it or a butterfly dancing through the air…but it gives me hope. Many people don’t believe in those types of signs, believe they are just coincidence but I still feel you. Your presence in our family is still very strong. I am continually amazed by it.
Though Emilia never met you physically she speaks of you as though she knew you. She cries about you saying she misses seeing you and always calls you her “other big sister.” I didn’t think she’d really understand anything about you until she was much older but she does.
This year it’s hit me harder again…more like your first birthday. Typically I can expect to be more weapy, more introspective and just plain sad around your anniversary dates. But this 5th birthday has hit me much earlier. The past few months I have been that way. I will hear one of the many songs I dedicate to you and not just shed a tear but sob…not just miss you but feel my heartbreak once again. I’m not sure if it’s the pure sadness that it’s already been 5 years or if it’s hitting so hard that you would in deed be a big girl now, starting school, riding a bike, joining Girl Scouts…all those milestones. I just know the pain is raw again and the heartache never ceases.
This got me to thinking what we could do for your birthday…release doves or balloons again? Sing, read, cry? All of these things we’ve done and yet don’t feel they were right for this birthday. We decided we wanted to do something to help another child. What better way to honor you then to try and make another child’s life better in some way? We are in the process of choosing a sponsor child to sponsor and communicate with. We hope to find a little girl around your age that we can help and watch grow up.
Your life and death taught us so much, we don’t ever want to forget all that we learned from you. We learned that a parents love isn’t always enough to save their children. We learned we are not guaranteed anything in this life and therefore we must try to be the best people we can be so that one-day we will be reunited with you. We learned that taking life or each other for granted is one of the worst mistakes we can make.
We were reminded that you don’t have to be able to see something or someone to know they are with you. We learned to believe that love is stronger then all physical boundaries. Our lives often times take directions we don’t expect and we often times are faced with situations we don’t think we will ever survive. Yet, by the grace of God and the help of loved ones we persevere…because we must.
We love you and miss you terribly Jenna.
Mommy