The day I wished I lived in a soap opera

General Hospital has been really good lately.  I guess, they are gearing up for "February Sweeps" which usually makes for interesting story lines.  If you aren't familiar with the "sweeps" term, it's basically a month were Nielsen logs everything targeted households are watching on TV and therefore they try to make their shows as good as possible to attract the most viewers possible.  At least, that's how it started and I think the goal was to help advertisers target their audiences better.

Anyway, the top story lines right now are:

• The jail break: Sonny, Julian, Ava and Franco just escaped jail... and were in a car accident.
• Fluke: There is an imposter Luke: Possibly the late Bill Eckert? And he's trying to kill everyone the real Luke loves.
• The bombs: There's a bomb on the Haunted Star, where all of Luke's loved ones are gathered for the unveiling of a new clinic.  There's another bomb in the basement of Luke's childhood home, the future site of the new clinic - and Dante's trapped in the basement (and somehow still alive after being hit in the HEAD with a crowbar..)
• Jake was arrested: Jake is really Jason, but had reconstructive face surgery, has amnesia and is being brainwashed by Helena who is in cahoots with Fluke,  Oh and he planted the bomb on the boat

You see the crazy stuff I watch? I suppose I find it entertaining because as ABSURD as some of this stuff is, the actors make it seem real.  After watching General Hospital for so long, I truly find that most soap stars, are much better actors than some really big movie stars.  But, that's just me.  Maybe I just haven't watched enough movies.  But soap stars, they really have a way of making you believe their characters and the emotions they are going through.  

They take you on their journey.  It gives you insight into what someone else might actually be feeling or thinking.  So much so, that often times you feel like you are on that same journey.  We didn't do anything on New Year's eve, which is pretty standard for us.  Brett fell asleep so I caught up on General Hospital.  In this episode, Ric, who was once a very evil character, returned.  Everyone believed him to be dead, as his death had been faked to expose the true head of the Jerome crime family, Fluke.  But now that Fluke's identity was revealed, Ric was able to come out of protective custody, though he was kidnapped, and was now just freed thanks to his half brother Sonny. On New Year's eve, he showed up on Liz' doorstep and I cried.  I cried like I hadn't cried in a long time.

I realized right then and there that I wished I lived in a soap opera.  Where it would be possible for Preston to show up on our doorstep, even if not for another 25 years.  I do live in the real world, I know that won't happen.  It didn't keep me from hoping it could come true, if only for a few moments.  Ric's return really hit me hard.  I cried myself to sleep that night.

Don't feel bad for me though.  These moments happen.  They can be triggered by the simplest things sometimes.  I get through them, as with everything else.  Survival is my new reality.  And with time, I'm learning that survival can bring about beautiful things, wonderful thoughts.

And really, I don't want to live in a soap opera.  Every time someone is driving on screen, there's an accident.  How can everyone be such a bad driver??

Snowmageddon

With the news all about a massive storm hitting the East Coast today, it feels like a great time to share one of my most memorable winter moments. It was 1980 something and we had snow... a lot of it.  Back then, the cold didn't phase me.  Perhaps it was the 3 or 4 layers of clothes I had on, the mittens and hats.  Or maybe it was just the pure innocence of childhood.  I must say I miss those days as I can't stand the cold as an adult.  Makes for interesting conversations about the thermostat in the house as my husband, doesn't like to be too warm.

Back to the memory - 1980 something with mountains of snow.  Growing up, my house was on a street corner which meant 2 driveways.  That snow-blower was a great investment, right Dad?  The snow would be dumped from the driveways to the sides of the driveway and made for great fort building.  This particular year, I remember we made a wonderful fort.  Ted and I, well probably mostly Ted, made nooks and room divisions.  We even had a fridge with a door that opened and a TV.  You can see it in the pictures below.  It's the square with sticks in it, because TVs had antennas back then.

It was great fun.  The building, and then playing in the fort for days.  I often wonder what type of winter sports and winter activities I would have done with Preston.  The snow doesn't stay on the ground for very long here in Colorado.  Perhaps it does in the mountains, but here in the foothills, a couple days and it's gone.  Where does this leave the building of a snowman?

I know we would have gone sliding on the little hill behind our house.  Maybe we would have gone to the mountains and hung out in the lodge as his dad snowboards the day away.  We could have taught him to snowboard or ski out back, start small you know?  Snow angels in the snow?  Skating.. maybe? Though I'd have a hard time teaching him seeing as I can only turn one way, lol.

Maybe my favorite, would have been cuddling by the fire on a cold day, where it snows non-stop.  Watch movies and read books together.  Yeah, I think, that would have been perfection.  What a wonderful image to go to sleep on :)

PS. The biggest irony of this post - it was 70 degrees today :)

Time Paradox

I've mentioned it before, I'm a huge General Hospital fan.  I've been watching since before I was a teenager and have gone on very few breaks.  I used to tape the episodes on our VCR, and now thanks to DVRs, I never miss an episode.  Some of the funniest lines I've heard have come from this show.  And some of the deepest.  A couple weeks ago Carly said the following:

Bad things happen fast, but we have to deal with them slow.

It struck all my brain cells and tugged at my heart.  I don't know that there is a better way to describe the tragedy that is losing your child.  This line hit me so hard, that I don't remember why Carly was saying this, and to whom.  Regardless, she is right.  Time often seems to be a paradox.  It moves at the same rate every day, yet sometimes it appears to go at the speed of light, and other times, it moves as slow as a snail.

The day Preston passed away was probably one of the slowest days I've ever lived through.  The ride to the hospital was excruciatingly slow.  The traffic didn't help.  It felt like we were in a time warp, when we spent time in the ER holding our little boy.  You could feel every second tick by, making it seem like the events that had unraveled weren't reality.  The next days, weeks and even months did not move much faster.  The endless nights of insomnia, of tossing and turning, of feeling like I was supposed to be doing something, only to be reminded that my routine had no more purpose were just that - endless.  There were moments of reprieve once the weekend came and I got some sleep, only thanks to Xanax.

Yet, it all happened in the blink of an eye.  One minute he was breathing, one second later he was not and it was over.  There was no warning.  There was no window of time where he could have been saved, as much as I would have liked to believe it.

The experience is similar when I think of being sick.  In the bat of an eyelash I was in excruciating pain caused by blockages in my intestines.  I was fine one day, I was not the next.  I made it through a day of work, but once I got home, it was now unbearable.  And again, dealing with it, I remember seeing the clock tick-tock by oh-so slowly.  The wait in the emergency room, which really was quick, felt like hours.  The wait for a doctor again, was probably minutes, yet it felt like a whole evening.  The wait for the administration of morphine for some relief, even longer.  The days without eating felt like weeks.  The week in the hospital felt like a month.  The recovery, it was actually slow, but it felt even slower because of everything I couldn't do.

Time can feel like torture.  Time can seem to have disappeared.  While I continue to heal on this journey of grief, it is an extremely slow journey.  I will continue to be on this journey for the rest of my days, I'm certain of it.  And still, it seems unreal that all this happened over 10 months ago.  It feels "wrong" that I'm approaching the one year mark of this terrible event that changed my life forever.  That same fact is scary, because it's been a long journey.  A painful journey.  A healing journey.

I fear, I will never understand time...

Is there anything duct tape can't fix?

When we took our road trip to Cooperstown and Montreal this past fall, we flew in and out of New York.  We took the time to visit our good friend Jimmy and he took us walking onto the Brooklyn Bridge.  Quite an experience.  Fantastic views of the city.  As with most roads it seems, a lot of construction was happening on the bridge.  As you can tell from the picture above, it might not be in the best shape... but hey duct tape is keeping this lamp up...

It made me laugh.  I love duct tape.  I've used it on many things myself in the hopes of a quick and easy fix.  It usually works.  And it comes in a lot of fun designs and colors nowadays.  But is there anything duct tape can't fix?  As much as I wish I could put a piece of duct tape on my heart, I don't think it would work.  Which really makes me wonder, do I even want my broken heart healed?

I've been thinking about it for a long, long time.  And honestly, even if it is sad, no.  I don't want my heart to ever be completely healed, even if it was an option.  I don't want to forget my son.  If I had my way, I wouldn't want anyone to forget my son, and hopefully my blog makes it so that a lot of people remember him for a long time, if not for eternity.  He was a truly special little guy.  And my dad is right in what he told me on the phone earlier today - he's made an impact on a lot of lives.

Some things you can fix and some you cannot.  Somethings are meant to be broken, never to be made whole again.  And so yes, my heart is broken and it has healed and will continue to heal, but it will never be completely whole until I am with Preston again one day.  And since I can't be with him now, I wouldn't have it any other way.  Much like we have scars that remind us of a struggle and give us strength, my broken heart reminds me of how wonderful my life was when Preston was with us.  It reminds me of everything he's taught me - when he was here and when he wasn't anymore.  It reminds me that healing exists and that one day, we will be reunited in the kingdom of God.

Do you have anything you wish you could fix with duct tape? Or perhaps something that is broken, that you don't want to ever fix?

A funny feeling

Yesterday was a nice day.  Had a good day at work, and Brett picked me up at the train station since we were going to Patty's to play poker.  We stopped on the way to buy some beer and then took a road which I thought would take us to Patty's.  I guess I didn't look at the map far enough to see that it didn't go where we needed it to go.  So I had to get us to do a few turns and we ended up on this one street with humongous properties and houses.  This one property had about a hundreds and hundreds of trees, and they were all adorned with white lights.  It was beautiful.  Should we ever win the big bucks, guess where we want to move to??

We got to Patty's a little later than planned.  It was wonderful to see Patty.  It'd been too long.  Time flies when you keep yourself busy I guess!  It was very nice to catch up with her, and great to see friends I hadn't seen in a long time.  We had some good food and then got down to business and played some poker!

I love playing poker.  I've been playing since I was a little girl.  I think I learned at my grandmere's house or at our fishing cottage where we would often play penny poker.  I think we'd play at home or at our neighbor's house every now and then.  We'd play all kinds of different types of poker - 5 card draw, baseball poker (I think), we'd play with wild cards and with special bonuses for having the highest or lowest of a suit.  It was fun.  The dealer got to choose what type of poker we played, and the wildcards, or other variants if they so pleased.

Since my twenties, I've only really played Texas Hold' Em.  It's a fun game.  It requires a lot of strategy and of course a little bit of luck.  This is probably true about all poker games, but I've learned to enjoy this version of poker.  I wouldn't say I'm really good, but I can hold my own.  It requires a lot of patience sometimes which I usually have in bunches.  Sometimes though when the cards don't go your way, it's easy to let the frustration get to you and it often gets the best of me.

Last night was fun.  I had a couple decent hands, and was able to stay with an amount of chips I was comfortable with.  Then the flop that you see above appeared.  An ace of hearts sandwiched by a jack and a nine (I don't recall the suits).  If you aren't familiar with Texas Hold' Em, the flop is the first 3 community cards that are turned for everyone to bet on.  The next card is called the turn, and the final card is called the river.  Anywho, the pictured flop appeared and it just made me smile as it made me think of my grandmere, grandpapa and Preston.  The jack & nine was my grandmere's favorite cards, and those were the wild cards she'd always use.  Or maybe it was my grandpapa and I was just told that was his favorite hand.  Or maybe it was both.  All I know is that those cards remind me of my mom's parents, even if I never met her dad.  For some reason, seeing the ace of hearts between their cards, it just made me think of the dream I had a few days after Preston passed away - We were in our living room and Brett's grandma was there, even though she'd passed away a year earlier.  We were asking her about Preston, and she said a nice woman was taking care of him.  She'd been there for a long time, and her husband was there too, helping.  I immediately thought of my grandparents and it made me feel a little better when I woke up, knowing my loved ones were watching him, taking care of him, loving him.

March was a difficult month all around.  April, and May weren't much better.  But that dream did help.  Seeing those cards together last night, didn't make me sad.  It made me feel like my loved ones were around me.  Gave me some confidence to play good poker.  And I won! Yay me!  I don't think they made me win or anything, but I had a nice time.  I loved feeling their presence.  I loved feeling confident for most of the night.  I almost let frustration get the best of me, but I found my patience, and it paid off.  Now... what should I do with all that money??? :)

When the snow quietly falls...

When the snow quietly falls on my nose, I miss you.
When the wind whistles in my ears and blows through my hair, I miss you.
When the sun shines so bright in the middle of winter and makes it feel like Spring, I miss you.
When raindrops trinkles softly from the clouds to make way for a rainbow, I miss you.

When the stars come out at night, I miss you.
When the sun rises from the horizon in the morning, I miss you.
In the middle of the day, as I review numbers for accuracy, I miss you.
In the middle of the night, when I wake up as I toss and turn, I miss you.

No matter the weather, no matter the time of day, I miss you always.
There won't be a day that goes by that I don't miss you.
Wish you were here, or that I was there.

My aversion to the news

This post contains sensitive material.  Possible controversial material.  You've been warned.

I've grown a strong aversion to the news which I used to watch on a consistent basis.  I liked knowing what was going on in the world, in my area, back in Montreal.  Since losing Preston, I've had quite my quota with tragedy so I tune in seldom, yet I find myself privy to the news thanks to Facebook, and Yahoo!, my search engine of choice.  I mostly try to ignore it, but sometimes, there's that one article that just grabs your attention.  I read it.  I regret it.

A month ago, it was how a toddler grabbed a gun out of his mom's purse while in the shopping cart at the grocery store and killed his mother.  The baby didn't know what he was doing.  Now he will have to live his life knowing he killed his mother.  This type of story frustrates me so much, because this could have been avoided, unlike Preston's death.  You might read that SIDS can be prevented.  It cannot.  You can do many things to reduce the risks, like we did.  But nothing makes the risks completely go away.  If that mother had kept her purse on her shoulder instead of in the cart with her child...  Or if she better yet, didn't have a gun in her purse...

The article that prompted this post was one I read just minutes ago, where a 5 year old killed his 9 month old brother with a revolver that was on his parent's built-in headboard shelf.  His mom thought he shot his brother with a paintball gun, not much better.. What the hell are you doing letting your 5 year old shooting a paintball at his infant brother, or any other unprotected child... What the hell are you doing letting your 5 year old play with a paintball gun altogether.  My blood boils.  My heart bleeds.  My heart breaks.

I'm not pro-gun.  Perhaps it has to do with growing up in Canada where guns aren't so present.  I'm not against paintball - in a controlled environment, where people understand what they are doing.  Where you that hitting someone in the head can be dangerous.  Or hitting someone without proper armor or whatever it is you wear when you play paintball.  How is a 5 year old expected to fully understand the safety concerns that come with guns.  They are still at that age where they want to test the limits of what you tell them they can't or shouldn't do.  

While in most cases, I agree that guns don't kill people, and that people kill people - there are cases where guns kill people.  These are just 2 specific examples.  It breaks my heart that because of the carelessness of these parents, their children now have to deal with the burden of having killed someone.  Killed someone they love.  I'm very sorry, that they were a "very good family".  We're a very good family and tragedy hit us without us being able to do anything about it.  Use your damn head.  My heart is broken for them, really it is.  But I'm so mad at them too.

I've read so many sad stories my life.  Parents dumping their infants in the garbage.  Parents beating their babies.  We all know the Sandy Hook tragedy that happened 2 years ago.  It is frustrating for a bereaved parent to know that some people get to be parents when they don't even want their children.  It is heart-breaking really because we would have done anything to be able to keep Preston.  Life had other plans.  There is so much sadness in this world.  So much that we can do to prevent some of it.  So the question is... what can we do about it?  More than you know.  More than you know.  

Being on the unpreventable side of tragedy, all I can say is this.  Do whatever it is you can do to prevent.  Do whatever it is that you can do to teach and practice safety when dangerous things are involved.  Remember that tragedy can hit anyone.  Tomorrow is never promised.  And for that reason, don't take things for granted.  Don't make the mistake I made and think - "this could never happen to me".  In most cases, know that tragedy can be averted.

Spring in the wintertime

It was stunning outside today.  The only alteration I did to this picture is add a border and the url for my blog.  It was just perfect the way it was taken.  Not bad for a camera phone. :)

It's interesting, because when I went out for groceries earlier today, I thought the day was the opposite of beautiful.  It was warm, in the high fifties, maybe low sixties degree fahrenheit.  I wouldn't normally be upset by this, but it is January.  What are you doing to us global warming!!  With the snow mostly melted everywhere, everything was ugly and brown.  Desolate.  For some reason, I was thinking about the 2 upcoming "holidays" that are coming up - Valentine's Day and Easter and it brought me sadness.  Valentine's Day is the day I found out baby H was gone.  It's also the last special occasion we shared with Preston.  Easter is the first one he missed.  An egg hunt would have been so fun with him this year.

When I got home from my trip to King Soopers, everything felt different.  The air smelled fresh.  There was a cool breeze.  The patio door was open to let in the fresh air and the warmth of the sun.  I stepped onto our back deck to be greeted by what you see above.  Divine.  The sun beams, right onto our house. Once again.  A message? Preston is happy.  Preston is doing okay.  This household will know happiness.  This house is blessed.  Whatever it is, I can only think that it is good.  And I welcome it.

As the snow melts, and the sun shines through the clouds, it surely feels like Spring is around the corner.  And while that will come with some extremely sad memories, it's also a time of renewal and new beginnings.  Much like the sun beams shining on my house, I welcome it.  It's very much needed.

Tricks with calculators and toy rhinos

Now that I have your intrigued, I'll keep you in suspense for just a little while longer.  Today was a good day.  It started with a flickering star, which seemed to be right in the middle of Orion's Belt, but I'm not a big astronomy buff so I could be totally off base.  It seemed to flicker all kinds of colors - like a rainbow and of course it made me think of Preston.  I researched it while I was on the train, hoping to find meaning to this sudden flickering.  I think I try to find meaning in too many things, but perhaps that is the curse that comes with losing your son.  You try to find hope where you can.

Turns out stars do really twinkle, as we sing to our children.  They twinkle because of the speed at which light travels and how it reacts with the atmosphere, etc.  Like I said, not my forte, give me numbers!  Anywho, as I searched I came across "Sirius", the dog-star right below Orion's belt.  Perhaps it really was just a little sign from Preston.  Is he chasing the "doggies" in the stars perhaps?  Or am I simply holding on to what I read in March after he passed away: "Perhaps they are not stars in the sky but rather openings where our loved ones shine down to let us know they are happy."

It made me smile this morning.  The sunrise was spectacular, making my day star off wonderfully.  A bright candy pink sky.  Then orange.  By the time I got off the train, it looked like a "holy" sky.  The clouds had a nice yellow tint to them, which reminded me of the color of the spells my priest Tsunaze casts in World of Warcraft.  Her specialization is holy, which is why I call it a holy sky.  I know, I'm a nerd :P

The holy sky reminded me of how wonderful my friends and family are.  Countless of you reached out and told me that Preston was in Heaven.  Without a doubt.  I truly appreciate it that.  I know it myself most of the time, but the doubts tend to creep in from time to time, as does guilt and other feelings I'd rather be without.  So, thank you for reaching out.  For letting me believe what you believe.  For making me feel better, and not so crazy.

Okay, you've been in suspense long enough - here we go.  Perhaps you will feel chills.  But hopefully, most of all, this makes you smile.  I got to work and my boss who works crazy amounts of hours asked me a bizarre question about my calculator.  Apparently, out of nowhere yesterday it started going off, as if someone was playing with it... someone like Preston.  At least, that's exactly what she thought when she went to my cubicle to figure out what was making noise.  Apparently it did that for a couple hours.  My calculator has done this before.. I accidentally spilled soda on it a couple years ago but it only does it when I turn it on, and I tend to always leave it on because it's annoying to find the right spot of the "on" button to be so that it doesn't do this.  My calculator has been on for months, and it hasn't done that.  I tend to believe it was Preston, keeping my boss company.  Jocelyn did tell me it's like Preston knew she enjoys the company as to not be alone in the office.  It sounds like my son, is one who likes to play tricks.

This is where it gets really interesting.  My friend Sherri, who lives in the Montreal area, sent me a message on Facebook this morning.  I read it during my lunch break and had not shared the story above with anyone.  Sherri was working from home today, and she was going to her kitchen to make lunch when her daughter's toy started talking to her.  Ryan the Rhino is his name.  He sings songs and says he likes to go to the zoo.  When the toy came on, she visualized Preston in her head, and it became an image of Preston playing with the toy.  The toy kept talking and talking, even though it hadn't been touched - and it usually only makes noise when you push on its head or move it.  It was alone on the couch.  Sherri just felt like Preston was playing with her daughter's toy.  Her impression was that my sweet P wanted her to tell me that he's okay, and that he likes this type of toy.  I don't doubt it for a second after seeing an image of the toy.  The whole of it is so colorful, even if he was just playing with the rhino.  I would have taken Preston to the zoo where he could go see the big cats and the other animals, just like rhinos. :)

My son appears to have a sense of humor.  Most likely gets that from his dad.  At the same time, he's a total sweetie for doing such things.  Even if it wasn't me who experienced seeing the calculator go off on it's own, or the rhino toy talking and talking without being touched, he picked people he knew would share this with me.  He picked people he knew would believe it was him.  He did it at a time where I'm feeling very vulnerable.  Heaven must be magic for him to travel from Denver to Montreal so quickly.

It was a good day.  Friday.  Friday before a long weekend.  A day where my son made his presence be felt.  Not only by me, but by others.  Thank you to all who've been encouraging me lately.  Thank you to all who believe.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart.  Keep up those tricks sweet P.  If it makes people smile, it's totally worth it.

Positively February - Coming Soon

As March approaches more rapidly than I'd like to admit, I become more and more anxious.  I don't look forward to reaching the milestone that marks 1 year since I last held my baby boy.  I've said it many times, if I could, I would erase the date from the calendar altogether.

I'm not a magician, or omnipotent, and therefore making a day disappear is not a talent of mine.  Too bad.  That'd be pretty satisfying right about now.  As I read my friend Krystal's blog entry today, about the random acts of kindness her friends, family and strangers did to honor her twin boys on the day they were born and died, two things struck me:

One of my goals as your mother is to not let your memory be grief.

What an amazing concept.  I want that.  It sounds really difficult, but I really, really want that.  I felt awful a couple of hours ago.  I was at the doctor's office, for my Remicade treatment, and asked if they would take my blood pressure 3 times in the span of 5-10 minutes.  I applied for more insurance at work.  Because I've had and have medical issues, they asked that I fill out a couple questionnaires and the blood pressure one included having recent readings at 5-10 minute intervals... anyway, I had to explain that.  When I got the look from the nurse (who was really kind by the way) that said "you're in your 30s, why do you have blood pressure issues", I explained how I had pre-eclampsia and how my BP was abnormal for 8-10 months.  Anywho, later as she was about to stick an IV into my arm, she asked about my baby and I let her know he passed away.  The look on her face was of complete devastation - like she regretted asking.  I felt bad for being truthful.  I felt sad because I miss my son.  I felt really vulnerable too.

I am probably still a little on edge from last night.  I attended a rosary for one of my colleagues' father who passed away last week.  I wanted to be there for her, like so many people were for me when Preston passed.  I knew I couldn't attend the funeral which was today, since I had my Remicade appointment, so I attended with Jocelyn who was super nice to drive me and give me the flexibility to not go should I not feel up to it at the last minute.  The rosary was held at a funeral home, the same company, different location, that handled Preston's memorial and cremation.  That notion itself was rather difficult, but again, I really wanted to be there for my friend.  For the most part, I think I dealt with the ceremony with dignity.  I struggled with seeing the open casket, as the embalming reminded me of the last time I saw Preston.  The same pale, artificial look.  I had to look away the whole time.

There were a couple things the priest said that hit me pretty hard.  About baptism, which I hadn't taken the time to do for Preston yet.  I'd started looking into it, but probably not enough.  Brings up complicated thoughts like - Preston wasn't baptised, does that mean he didn't go to heaven?  "Unless a man be born again of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kindgom of heaven".  That's probably what struck me the most.  Praying about ascension to heaven and the kingdom of God was difficult.  I really, really want my baby boy to be there.  I really, really hope that my transgressions are forgiven and that I also get to go to heaven so that I can be with my son again.

Needless to say, a lot has been on my mind lately... as March approaches, as I try to support friends through loss.  Death is always so hard to understand, accept and live with.  Loss is just quite literally difficult however you look at it.

I guess I'm writing a novel today...  To get back to Krystal's blog entry, the next thing that stuck with me is this:

They say that it takes a village to raise a child.  I can't tell you if that is true or not (...).  But what I can tell you is this - it takes a community of people to keep a memory alive.  I cannot do it on my own.  You have all helped me to keep Conner and Benjamin alive in the hearts of so many.

So much truth exists in this statement.  I too feel that so many have helped me keep Preston's memory alive, like so many have done the same for Krystal's boys.  I'm so thankful for this.  So incredibly humbled whenever someone mentions Preston to me.  The memory of him isn't completely grief.  There is a lot of happiness when I think of Preston.  Thinking of Preston, doesn't mean I need to concentrate on the loss, or his death.  I can honor his memory by smiling, appreciating life, and helping others through difficult times or just because.

And so, if you were wondering about the title of my blog entry, here it is.  During the month of February, on as many days as possible, I'd like to share a positive thought of the day that might inspire, a positive concept that can be built on, a positive experience that gives hope, or anything else relating to positivity.  As March approaches, I'm going to need all the positivity I can get, and why not share it with as many people as I can?

I invite you to share positive thoughts of the day, concepts or experiences.  I will be sure to select some, if not all, depending on how many responses I get.  As always, you are welcome to comment via Facebook, on this blog or via email - tsunaze1@gmail.com

Hopefully, I can make it a month filled with positivism, for you, for me, for all.

Tomorrow is never promised

It's been over 7 months since I started blogging about Preston, about losing him, about what I feel, what I've learned, what I wish I didn't learn.  It doesn't come to much surprise to me to find that I have handfuls of blog entries that I started but never finished whether it be because I wasn't in the right mood, didn't have the time, or just couldn't bear to write about something in the moment.  The subject for my post tonight, keeps finding me wherever I go lately, as if nudging me to finish what I started on my birthday.

If grief, and loss have taught me one thing, it is this - tomorrow is never promised.  Every day we go about our lives, not even giving a second thought to the fact that tomorrow may never be.  We dream about tomorrow and about the future not that there is anything wrong with that.  It's nice to be able to imagine what could be, what you want in life.  It's even more wonderful when those dreams come true.  We look to the future all the time, and really, I don't think that this is something we should stop doing as a society, as individuals.  I do it myself, even though sometimes, the "future" is one where Preston is still alive.

We are often guilty of taking our blessings in life for granted, without even realizing it. Our loved ones which includes our children.  We take our jobs for granted.  We take our home and our belongings for granted.  We take our health for granted, for most, it actually isn't even a thought that crosses their minds.  When every single day is a blessing in itself, we always assume that tomorrow will be there when we wake up.

The picture above is what I see when I wait for the train after work.  The train comes from the West, which is the direction the camera is pointed at.  For cars, it is a one-way street, where cars go in the opposite direction from the train.  I cannot tell you how frustrated I get almost every day, as I see someone gun it to make the green light before the train.  Or how irritated I get when I see someone run across the tracks when the train is coming right at them, especially when they are dragging their child or pushing a stroller.  If only they knew, that in the blink of an eye, it could be taken all away.

I wish I had that innocence back... not to know that tomorrow could be the worst day of your life.  I'm not trying to say that there's nothing to live for.  I'm not trying to imply that you shouldn't take any risks in life.  I'm certainly not trying to say, anticipate that tomorrow could be your last.

What I'm trying to say is, take risks that don't endanger your life, and especially doesn't risks that threaten the lives of others, and even less a risk that puts children at risk.  It frustrates me so much to read stories about how someone just wanted to get there, wherever there is, on time - and it means that they lost control of their car on the ice and crashed into another and casualties ensue.  Or in the example above, just wanting to get ahead of a train, which would delay them by what, 1 minute, if that?  Knock on wood, I haven't seen an accident on "this" street corner.  Haven't seen doesn't mean it hasn't happened.  And I know of several incidents that happened just two stations prior to mine.  Thankfully, I don't believe there have been any casualties.


My need to post about this subject was reinforced the other night when we watched the latest episode of Modern Family, entitled "The Day We Almost Died" where Phil swerves the van (filled with his entire family) to avoid a truck that flew through a stop sign.  What happens after?  Claire, who usually needs to be in control of everything throws caution to the wind, plays hookie at work, and doesn't blink twice as her children mess up the house, and each other.  Phil, usually so happy-go-lucky, gives a couple people a piece of his mind.  Luke who missed his own "near-miss death", works on checking off items from his bucket list.  Alex cuts judo class to get a make-over with her sister Hayley, who wants her sister to in-turn show her how to do judo.  Manny, also in the van, is traumatized and can't be in a car until Jay makes him drive, and in the end, Jay experiences his own near-death incident while in the back of the car.  This was one of the best episodes I've seen and I really like the show to start with.  It had a lot of humor, yet tackled this subject much better than what I'm attempting to do.

Trauma tends to cause you to see life differently.  Sometimes it's only in passing, but in my experience, it's ever changing.  I was always a dreamer, a planner.  Dreaming is now really difficult for me, because my dreams have too often been shattered into a million pieces.  Planning... I've been able to plan a little more with time, but I don't like making too many plans in advance anymore.  There are things in my life I didn't take for granted, others that I tried not to take for granted.  I now try not to take anything for granted, which can still be difficult.

I feel myself going in circles - what I'd like to say is this:  Take risks when needed, and most definitely when it doesn't endanger someone else's life.  Thinking of a career change? Go for it! What's stopping you?  Thinking about trying out for a school sports team?  What do you have to lose?  Why not take the road less traveled today?  Why not risk going with your gut even if your idea fails?  Why not allow others to see you when you are vulnerable?  Look at a house even if it's a little out of your price range.  It might just be your dream house and often you can make a deal ;)

Don't rush past a train just to save yourself a minute.  Don't leave your child in a car, just because you'll be in the store for 2 minutes.  How many stories do we read every year where a child got frostbite or worse for staying in a freezing car for 5 hours (just read that gem tonight)?  Or how they died of heat stroke for being in the car alone for too long in the middle of summer - a crack of air in the window is not enough!

Do take risks if the result might lead to a happier life.  Do take risks to try something new, to advance your career.  Do risk to fail, you often learn something.  Take the chance to try again, because you never know... Remember, it's easy to take tomorrow for granted.  But most importantly, remember that it isn't promised after all.  Why not make that change today?

Mosaic-ally memorialized

I've been trying to find words... for almost two months now.  You see, the night before Preston's birthday, we received a package from my colleagues.  This large and weighty box.  I had no idea what I'd find inside, and because I felt I'd be in a better frame of mind on that Tuesday evening, I decided to open it then.  I also knew that it would eat at me all night if I didn't open it.  I am very curious by nature too!  I can tell you that I was speechless.  I quite honestly still am.  I don't think that a proper thank you exists.  I am giving it a try nonetheless.  Forgive me if it's taken so long.

In the hefty box, was a memorial stone with Preston's name and birth date.  In the center, a butterfly, whose body is made of baby feet bordered my mosaics of blue and green.  Wings of yellow.  A rainbow of colors really.  I was and still am so incredibly touched by this personalized gesture.  I'm certain a lot of research, planning and time went into this stone.  A lot of love went into creating it, as it did into ordering and conceptualizing how my dear colleagues wanted to commemorate my son.  I'm so thankful that many of you did get to meet him.  I feel blessed really.  I feel honored that I was able to share this special little life with you.  I know that he left an imprint on your hearts, as he does on most lives he somehow still manages to touch.

This stone was the start of #SpreadHappinessForPreston.  It helped me see just how much happiness was going to be spread around the world on Preston's birthday - though it was never my intention to be the recipient of some of these acts of kindness to make others smile.  It gave me strength to see balloons soar into the sky to wish my little guy a happy birthday in Heaven less than 12 hours later.  It gave me strength to read all the emails and see with my own two eyes, how much kindness was going around that day.

This stone made me think toward the future, something I have a hard time doing.  Where will we place it?   In his room?  In our room?  By Preston's Garden out back?  In a central area where everyone can admire it?  The consensus?  Once spring comes, it will go next to Preston's Garden in the backyard.  Seems just perfect to us.  A great reason to go tend to the garden every day, if there isn't one already!

Looking at this stone, I'm reminded that there is "no footprint too small that it cannot leave an imprint on this world".  Preston sure has influenced my life.  He's changed me, through his life and death.  I'm often reminded that he's left a mark on others as I am contacted randomly by readers, fellow grieving parents and friends and family who continue to show their love and support as I find my way through life after Preston.

This stone reminds me that without change, the beauty of butterflies wouldn't exist.  Those colorful creatures that fly into our vision on a perfect spring or summer day.  Those free flying souls that remind you that true beauty exists, that remind you of your young days where you would chase a butterfly in a large field.

Seeing Preston's name, one that many are scared to utter in my presence, touches my heart beyond words.  It's really difficult to not be able to share all the firsts he should have had - crawling, eating solid food, talking, walking, running, throwing a ball.  I am comfortable talking about Preston but I know that it can put off a lot of people.  And while maybe I shouldn't care about how it makes others feel if it makes me feel better, I do care.  I don't want to make people sad by talking about Preston.  I know that inevitably it happens.  Whether through my blog, or when I'm talking to someone.  If I can avoid it though, I will avoid making someone miserable if the only purpose is to make myself feel better.  

To re-iterate, seeing Preston's name in writing, it warms my heart.  It's a reminder that he existed.  It's a reminder that he's still with me, in my heart and in the heart of others.  It's proof that his little life, way too short, made a difference, and it gives me hope that he will continue to do so.

I know this isn't enough of a thank you, but again the words to express my gratitude, Brett's gratitude just don't exist.  Just know, that it had a huge impact on how Preston's birthday went, on giving us another way to memorialize and remember our son, and will give us a conversation piece to talk about Preston with anyone who sees the stone and asks about him.  I don't think it gets much more special than that.

Thank you to Jessica, Brendan, Donna, Jocelyn, Eileen, Cindy L., Dottie, Terri, Des, Paula, Marcus, Cindy H., Lisa R., Scott, Wanda, Steve, Michael, Brigit, Lisa V., Val, Tracy and Sydney.

Into the closet we go...

I've got the case of the writer's block.  I have many idea posts, but they are all posts that I need to really sit down and think about so that I say everything I want to say.  Posts for a day off.  For a weekend.

And so, I'm going to off in a different direction.  Let me ask you this question: what is your favorite article of clothing, and why?  For me it's really simple - my wedding dress.

Every girl's dream is to have a wedding dress.  Go out, shop and try on beautiful dresses.  Perhaps dresses you could never afford.  I went to a bridal shop in Montreal, and bought the 3rd dress I tried on.  I didn't need to try on more - it was perfect.  Strapless.  Subtle yet delicate beading, including little blue gleaming stones.  My something blue.  Simple.  And it fit just perfectly.

How did it make me feel to wear this dress?  Special.  Pretty.  Happy.  Relaxed.  You've heard of Bridezilla right?  Our photographer kept commenting on how I was the complete opposite of it.  I was the most calm bride he'd ever met.  Not freaking out about every detail of the wedding and reception.  Not worried about time.  Not worried about my hair, or make up or dress.  And really, I wasn't.  It was one of the happiest days of my life.  Maybe it helped that Brett and I were already married?  I suppose it's possible, though I don't believe that.  When you know, you know.  I knew with Brett before we even met face to face.  Crazy right?  We got married at the County Recorder's office in March 19, 2007 and then had a church wedding in September of he same year.  Getting married in April allowed for us to work on immigration right away.  Considering I didn't get to move to the United States until February 2008, I'd say that was a fabulous decision.  Plus, we were and are still in love, so it only made sense.  You be the judge on how relaxed I was... 

Any other favorite articles of clothing?  Perhaps the pyjamas that Preston always spit up on.  Just because it makes me smile to think about him.  My grey and black striped maternity shirt - makes me think of being pregnant with Preston, but also reminds me of that chance encounter outside my OB's office building where a woman was wearing that same shirt when I was desperately asking God for signs that Preston was ok.  My yoga pants because they are so comfortable.  Those all make me happy.  Sometimes the maternity shirt will make me sad, much like my pyjamas, but I'm blessed to have these memories.  Something to hold on to.  Something that let's me think about my son, a little bit more.

I often thought of what life lessons I could teach Preston.  How I would help heal his wounded heart after his first heartbreak was one of them.  I thought about what it would be like when he got married one day, far into the future.  I'll never know, but it doesn't stop me from thinking.  He would have been all smiles, that's for sure.

The light above the sink

There's a light right above our sink.  For 14-15 weeks, it was on 24/7, except for that one time when it burnt out.  I left it on one night because I didn't want to have the light on in the hallway.  That light would have woken up my hubby, or my baby.  It probably would have kept me up too, even if I was only sleeping no more than two hours at a time.  I needed this light, so that I could go down the stairs without tripping, especially while holding Preston.  Perhaps I was paranoid to drop him not that I can ever see myself letting that happen.  I'm notoriously klutzy though, so I didn't want to risk it.  We did everything right, everything by the book, even when that meant taking precautions.

The light above the sink helped me get Preston's bottle ready - whether that meant heating up pumped breastmilk, or preparing formula.  It allowed me to see as I washed his bottles, pacifiers and pumping supplies, all the while he slept in the living room, a few steps away.  It gave me just enough light, to do what I needed, while providing a quiet, calm environment for my son.

This light has been off for months, and months.  I've had to turn it on a couple times, like today and it triggers so many memories.  My husband can't stand to see this light on.  I wouldn't be surprised if he's thought about taking this light out altogether.

It's tough, to have this light on, and not see the drying bottle rack on to the right of the sink.  It's difficult to not have bottles to wash, to not have that little grey tub we brought back from the hospital, filled with bottles and boiling hot water.  It's challenging to be at the sink, under this bright light without lullabies playing in the background from Preston's swing as it sways him to sleep.

Those things aren't far away.  Bottles in Preston's closet and a few in the garage, in a bag in the baby carrier.  I'm so thankful that Barry went to pick that up from the nanny's.  I couldn't deal with it.  Not now, not 10 months ago.  The drying rack may be Preston's closet, or perhaps in a cupboard with the baby bullet & supplies - which I never got to use.  The swing is in the nursery, along with the bouncer, and the bassinet, and the mini bassinet.  Out of sight, out of mind? If only it were so easy.

It's more like out of sight, less on my mind.  Less in my face.  Less of a reminder of what's missing, even if I'm ever so aware of my baby not being here.  There are just certain things, certain smells, certain sounds, certain situations that trigger certain memories which are more difficult to live with.

For today though, turning on that light to do dishes, wasn't as painful as in the past.  It made me smile to remember all those evenings I spent with Preston.  All those dishes I did.  My hands got so dry. While I can not bring back the past, I cannot relive all those precious moments - I have the memories.  I hope to never lose my mind so that I can remember until my time comes.

Triggers can be painful.  But every now and then, the pain is worth the reminder.  I hadn't thought about those evenings in this way in a long time.  Much like I hadn't seen a beautiful sunset in months.  It was a purple haze of a sunset, and it totally made me think of Preston.  And it made me smile.

Endless year, quick year

I attended our support group tonight.  Two of the couples who also attended, are days away from the one year mark of the loss of their precious children - Ryder and Salem.  Since the holidays have passed, Preston's angelversary has certainly been on my mind.  I mentioned something tonight that everyone seemed to agree with - it's been the shortest and longest year of my life.  Time is relative - you've probably read this statement within my blog maybe times.

It's been the shortest year because it seems like a bad dream that Preston is gone.  It feels like losing him just happened.  And it did - 10 months ago.  It feels like the longest year because at the same time, it feels like a decade ago that I held my baby.

When I came home, I did something I seldom do - I opened the door to Preston's room and walked in.  I stroked the mattress in his crib where he used to lay.  I looked in the mini bassinet that we stored in the crib after he passed - when we needed to hideaway all his things.  We continue to have that need.  It was filled with some toys, onesies, binkies and right on top - his social security card.  Remember how I'd been looking for it? Funny how things turn up.  It gave me hope, even if only for a fleeting moment.

I was sad after stepping into his room, looking through a few things, reminiscing about the nights I spent in this nursery, rocking my little guy to sleep.  I was sad thinking about the upcoming days for my friends Abi and Ryan, Brittani & Skyler.  Milestones should be happy, but for the bereaved parent, they are something you dread.  They hurt.  They are reminders of what isn't.  What we are missing.  What should be.  I myself wish I could permanently erase March 13th from the calendar.  

Will you think of my friends for the next week or so?  Send them positive energy, keep them in your prayers, close to your heart.  I know it sounds absurd to a lot of people, but the power of positive energy is mightier than you think.  I often feel like I'm able to get up every morning because of all the support I have.  Because of all the positive energy everyone sends my way.  Because I'm in your prayers.  So, I do believe it makes a difference.  If you are so inclined, I'd even encourage you to do a random act of kindness for Ryder and Salem.  Keep their memory alive.

In closing, I want to share what a friend and her husband did on Preston's birthday to spread happiness.  I have so many to share, and tonight felt appropriate to share this one.  That moment of hope I felt earlier, being in Preston's room, missing him, remembering brought this on.

Teddy bears were Preston's theme, as I've shared before.  He was to be a Cubs fan, so teddy bears only made sense.  Jess and her husband Brendan donated Tucker, a teddy bear, to the Toy Shop for Dolls for Daughters.  Tucker was given a #SpreadHappinessForPreston card and the child who receives Tucker, will learn all about Preston.  I was so touched when I read Jess' card, about this gesture, and donation.  It tugged at all the strings of my heart - in a good way.  The teddy bear, making a child smile by receiving said teddy bear, and sharing Preston with another person.  What more could a mom want?  Thank you guys.  Thank you for sharing my son's story, his life, his smile.  Thank you for your wishes for peace on Preston's birthday and every other day.  Really, truly it makes such a difference in my life.  You make such an impact, and I don't think I could ever repay you. <3

Riding the waves of change

It is hard to lead a life where change doesn't exist - warranted or not.  We can live our lives with consistency and routine, but change is unavoidable.  Things become obsolete.  People come into our lives, while others leave - not necessarily through death, but sometimes.  The latest and greatest invention comes into our lives.  Unpredictable weather causes changes in plans.

Change can be scary.  A lot of people try to avoid it as to remain in the comfort of what they know, what they understand, what they want.  Sometimes change is necessary such as leading a healthier lifestyle for health purposes.  I've been there.

Change can be difficult.  Adapting to a life without Preston is oh so challenging.  I often find myself staring at babies at the store, wondering if that's how my son would be acting now.  Hopefully I don't look like a crazed maniac that's enthralled with another person's child.  I just get mesmerized, into the what should have been, instead of what is.  I didn't choose this path.  I didn't have a choice to deal with this tremendous wave that crashed into my life.

With a new year comes the ever popular resolutions we try to adopt every year.  The changes we try to make, which I think are a good thing.  Remember, control what you can in life.  That makes it easier to cope and deal with the unpredictable changes that occur throughout your life.  Last year, I wanted to try a new recipe every week.  As with most people, I succeeded for a short period of time, and then it went out the window.  It was rather ambitious, but I was on maternity leave when I made the resolution and had more time on my hands, even with a newborn.

One tough year later, my resolutions will be a little less bold for 2015.

1. Use my crock-pot/slow cooker once a month
2. Continue losing weight and maintain it once I reach a decent goal
3. Exercise more - start slow - use the exercise bike every day after work
4. Continue with my blog and try to make #SpreadHappinessForPreston even more successful on 11/19/15
5. Take one class of some kind - cooking, artsy, accounting, photography
6. Keep a better house
7. Plant seeds in Preston's garden earlier (right after Mother's Day)
8. Take more pictures
9. Reach out to one person every month who seems to be struggling - someone I know or a stranger
10. Honor my son, by smiling more

Ten resolutions probably sounds like a lot but I think it gives me flexibility.  If I happen to fail with one, I'll have the satisfaction of having followed several.

I vow to ride these waves of change, by welcoming some into my life.  After all, without change, we'd have no beautiful, colorful butterflies.

What are your resolutions for 2015?

A watched water dispenser doesn't make bubbles

Our cats are funny creatures.  When we change the water in their bowl/dispenser, they sit next to it for hours because as the water first dispenses, air bubbles make it into the tiny water jug.  They try to get them by batting at it or grabbing it with their paws.  It's actually become a hobby of theirs to watch this water dispenser, even when we haven't just changed their water.  It bubbles so seldom, yet they continue to patiently wait for movement, like the small predators that they are, ready to pounce.  Don't they know that a watched water dispenser doesn't make bubbles?

I feel a little clever for finding a way to fit the popular saying to fit my situation - a watched pot doesn't boil.  What am I trying to say with all these metaphors?  Sitting by a window, staring at the sky won't make a rainbow appear.  In the middle of winter, I can't expect to see bunnies at every corner.  I can't spend my every waking moment looking for signs, yet I find myself doing just that.  I try not to, but it becomes difficult when the signs are few and far between.  I think after Christmas, I stopped looking for a little while.  Not because I didn't want any, but because I got busy at work, at home.  I kept really busy actually.  This does not mean Preston wasn't on my mind.  I think about him constantly, day and night.

And that's when all those signs appeared.  I wasn't looking for them, but I believe in them.  Much like when my cats aren't looking at their water dispenser, it will occasionally create an air bubble.  They could sit there all night and not get a bubble, and there it would be, 2 minutes later.  Or hours later.

In the grand scheme of things, I can't teach my cats patience, but I myself have grown to have a lot of patience.  With myself.  With others.  With my health.  With time.  Slowly, I hope to learn patience in between signs sent by Preston.  I don't know how Heaven works.  Maybe angels can only do some so often.  Maybe he's busy spreading happiness halfway around the world.  Maybe sending signs requires moving Heaven and Earth.  Whatever it may take, I will try to have more patience.  I will try not to expect signs every day.  I will attempt to not be too sad when I go days, weeks without one.  I'll never stop hoping for them though.  Keep sending them Preston :)

Thanks for sending bunnies to Jocelyn today.  She sent me nice pictures.  Always makes me smile when someone else thinks about you and tells me about it.  You live on my love, my sweet Preston.  You always will...

Chasing bunny-looking doggies

We ended up getting close to nine inches of snow last night.  More than the six, I'd seen last night.  My car was buried and the roads promised to be slippery.  My sweet hubby was so kind to drive me to the train station in the F150.  There's a reason we bought it after all.

It was incredible.  Totally unexpected.  It took me by surprise and made me smile.  As we made our way down Meadows Parkway, we had to stop due to a red light.  A dreaded red light.  The one by the hospital.  I looked out my window to the right as to avoid staring at the hospital to our left.  And there it was.  A little bunny hopping along the recently plowed sidewalk, in the bitter coldness of the morning.  I couldn't believe by eyes!  I haven't seen a bunny since late October or early November.  It reinforced that thought I had about yesterday's snow storm.  It really was from Preston.  How can I even doubt it now?  Thank you my love.  Thank you for letting me know I shouldn't doubt my gut, even for something as subjective as signs from the beyond.

I listened to Pandora as the train went on it's merry way, as I do most mornings.  "Numb" played, reminding me that I don't know what life expects from me.  It was followed by "The Middle" which has helped me smile on rough days since the loss of my son.  I am most certainly in the "middle of the ride", doing my best to ride this wave that seems to have stabilized.  For now.  I know it will change.  You can't fool me anymore.

I skipped the next couple songs because they were too angry for my mood this morning .  I was still floating on a cloud from having seen that bunny rabbit.  "Can't Hurry Love" came on after another song or two.  I listened to it for awhile, but had to stop.  I was getting emotional as I felt this was a lesson I would have tried to teach Preston - you really can't hurry love.  I was just about ready to hit "skip song" again until I heard that familiar guitar strum.  "Iris".  Tears filled my eyes.  It'd been so many weeks of not hearing it.  So many times I'd skipped songs hoping to hear it.  Hearing it today... after yesterday's snow storm. After Mr. Bunny's sighting.  Serendipity?  I'm afraid not.  A sign.  A clear sign.

I listened to the live version of Iris.  I tried keeping my composure on the train but I know I shed some tears.  And then, "A Song for Mama" followed "Iris".  So much for composure.  I've heard this song just 3 times.  Right before Mother's Day.  A day before Christmas.  Today.  I just cannot ignore that this is a sign from my little boy.  I didn't want to be Mom.  Or Momma.  Or Maman.  I was his Mama.  Just makes this song that much more powerful for me.

I wish I could have taught Preston so many things.  How to walk.  How to talk.  How to count and how to recite the alphabet.  How to swim and how to dance.  Instead, it seems it's the other way around.  He teaches me all the time.  Teaches me to have faith in God, and in Heaven.  Teaches me how deep love can be.  Teaches me compassion, understanding, sorrow.  He may not be here, but Preston's not too far either.  Keep chasing those bunny-looking doggies.  I'll keep my eyes open for them.

Never gonna go a day without you

Fills me up just thinking about you

I'll never go a day without my mama

Mama, mama, you know I love you

Mama, mama, you're the queen of my heart

Your love is like tears from the stars

Mama, I just want you to know

Loving' you is like food to my soul

Right back at you sweetheart.

Hope glistens in the snow

We spent a quiet New Year's day.  Brett's parents were over.  We had a nice lunch and they left in the early of the afternoon as a snow storm rolled in.  I knew there was a chance for snow, but I had no idea that we'd get close to 6 inches.  As I was feeding the cats their dinner, the snow just called out to me.  Heavy snow flakes were falling and the snow on the back porch just glistened.  Stars in the snow.  Tiny globes of hope in the purity of fresh snowfall.

It made me hopeful that 2015 may become a good year.  Living without Preston is still very difficult.  Still isn't a good word.  This grief, this emptiness will follow me forever.  You learn to cope.  You find ways to live, laugh.  You become more accepting of what you can't change.  You don't forget.  You don't get over it.  You don't move on.  There's no still when it comes to grieving someone you love so deeply.  There's only living without part of yourself for the rest of your life.  I'm not still sad that my son's gone.  I will always be sad that he's no longer with us.  I'm not still grieving.  Grief is a never-ending companion.

All that being said though, I was overcome with serenity again today as I watched large flakes flow in the wind.  That same feeling of peace I felt on Mother's Day when Preston sent a storm.  Perhaps he sent this one too... Just to say, 2015 will be better.  After all, it can only go up from 2014...