Lilypie Angel and Memorial tickers
Lilypie Kids Birthday tickers

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Kerrigan's Tricycle

For her second birthday, Grandma & Grandpa Foulger gave Kerrigan her very own tricycle. She was so excited to ride it but was adament about not doing so until she was being safe and wearing a helmet (thanks, Dora!). So the very next day we made a trip down to Larsen's Bicycles and purchased her a brand new helmet. At first she wasn't very keen on riding her bike outside, so we used the kitchen. You may need a 2-year-old to English translator to understand a lot of what she says...





Translations:


*What does Opa eat? "Opa eats cookies."
What does Daddy eat? "Daddy eats steak."
What does Mommy eat? (she doesn't say, but according to Kerrigan, Mommy eats chocolate.)
What does kitty cat eat? "Kitty cat eats mice."

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

The Mourner's Bill of Rights

I never thought of grieving as an actual process. When death took someone I loved before Kerrigan, it never really ever seemed to sink in. It didn't have an all-encompassing effect on me like Kerrigan's loss has. Because of this, I've never gone through any real stages of grief. Sure, I've mourned their loss and cried at funerals, but that's been about the extent of it. Grief is something that is exceptionally difficult to deal with. For me, it takes up every minute of every day. It fills my every thought and keeps me up at night. I have nightmares that repeat every second of that morning. I can't get thoughts out of my head about what happened to my baby after we said goodbye to her at the hospital. Sometimes I can't bear to say her name or look at her pictures for fear that I'll wake up from a dream and I'll never have known her at all. Sometimes I pray that I'm still dreaming and that this is all a nightmare...that I'll wake up and hear her footsteps running through the kitchen at 7:00 in the morning. Perhaps one of the most difficult aspects of grief is the way people other than yourself deal with it...how they view your grief. From what I've experienced, most people think that I should have stopped grieving her loss months ago. It's like they gave me a deadline of when I should be finished. A week, a month, two months...unfortuantely it doesn't work that way. Every day, the emptiness of my house screams in the silence, and every day I dread having to answer questions about Kerrigan when Jasper asks "Who is that?" when he looks at her pictures. I hate having to think of how he will react when we take him to visit her campsite and wonder if he ever truly appreciates how much his sister loved him before he even got here.

Our online support group through the SUDC program has offered wonderful writing on handling grief. This week, the director of the program posted this on the forum, and I thought it should be posted here on Kerrigan's blog.

The Mourner's Bill of Rights
by Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D.

1. You have the right to experience your own unique grief. No one else will grieve in exactly the same way you do. So, when you turn to others for help, don't allow them to tell what you should or should not be feeling.

2. You have the right to talk about your grief. Talking about your grief will help you heal. Seek out others who will allow you to talk as much as you want, as often as you want, about your grief. If at times you don't feel like talking, you also have the right to be silent.

3. You have the right to feel a multitude of emotions.Confusion, disorientation, fear, guilt and relief are just a few of the emotions you might feel as part of your grief journey. Others may try to tell you that feeling angry, for example, is wrong. Don't take these judgmental responses to heart. Instead, find listeners who will acceptyour feelings without condition.

4. You have the right to be tolerant of your physical and emotional limits.Your feelings of loss and sadness will probably leave youf eeling fatigued. Respect what your body and mind are telling you. Get daily rest. Eat balanced meals. And don't allow others to push you into doing things you don't feel ready to do.

5. You have the right to experience "griefbursts."Sometimes, out of nowhere, a powerful surge of grief may overcome you. This can be frightening, but is normal and natural. Find someone who understands and will let you talk it out.

6. You have the right to make use of ritual. The funeral ritual does more than acknowledge the death of someone loved. It helps provide you with the support of caring people. More importantly, the funeral is away for you to mourn. If others tell you the funeral or other healing rituals such as these are silly or unnecessary, don't listen.

7. You have the right to embrace your spirituality.If faith is a partof your life, express it in ways that seem appropriate to you. Allow yourself to be around people who understand and support your religious beliefs. If you feel angry at God, find someone to talk with who won't be critical of your feelings of hurt and abandonment.

8. You have the right to search for meaning. You may find yourselfasking, "Why did he or she die? Why this way? Why now?" Some of your questions may have answers, but some may not. And watch out for the clichéd responses some people may give you. Comments like, "It was God's will" or "Think of what you have to be thankful for" are not helpful and you do not have to accept them.

9. You have the right to treasure your memories. Memories are one ofthe best legacies that exist after the death of someone loved. You will always remember. Instead of ignoring your memories, find others with whom you can share them.

10. You have the right to move toward your grief and heal. Reconcilingyour grief will not happen quickly. Remember, grief is a process, notan event. Be patient and tolerant with yourself and avoid people whoare impatient and intolerant with you. Neither you nor those around you must forget that the death of someone loved changes your life forever.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Beelzebub



When Kerrigan was about 7 months old and starting to pull herself up on things, she fell in love with a full-length mirror we had hanging on one of our doors. When she started talking to her reflection, we discovered that there was another little person living inside her. We nick-named her new persona "Beelzebub," because of the deep, raspy demon voice that would eminate from her sweet little body.




Jasper has now produced his own little demon, which we have nick-named "Chernabog." He's not up to par with Kerrigan's Beelzebub, but it's definitely a close second!

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Wishing "First's" Didn't Exist

I honestly can't wait until our list of "first's" are over. Our first Christmas without Kerrigan...first Thanksgiving...first Halloween...first Mother's Day...first Father's Day...first birthday...first day of school...the list goes on and on. And yet again, here I sit on another first: my first birthday without Kerrigan. I have never hated my birthday so much as I do today. I had to force myself to get out of bed this morning, and I have been needing a cattle prod to coerce myself to do anything productive today. All I want to do is retreat to my bed, pull the covers over my head, and wait for the day to be over!

I miss my little baking buddy so much! How she'd always try to convince me that I wanted a strawberry birthday cake, how she was so excited when she got to have the leftover frosting bowl, her little voice singing "Happy Birthday" at the top of her lungs while she accompanied herself on her piano, and her special birthday hugs that she so freely handed out throughout the day. I miss the finger prints she always left in the cake from sneaking tastes of frosting, and how she always wanted to open the presents herself.

The house seems so quiet and empty today. Jasper has been sleeping for most of the day, so I've been left with my thoughts for the entirety of the time I've been awake. And I can't help but sit here and cry when I think of how much I miss her.

I feel like I've lost five years of my life. I'm 27 today, and I feel as if I have nothing to show for it. So many people my age, and younger, have several children...and here I am...27 years old, with only an 8-month old to show for 7 years of marriage and 5 years of being a mommy. I dont' know how to explain the feelings that I have to others. There is a sort of stigma in the church that relates to couples who wait many years to have children. Now I feel like a social pariah because we don't fit in with the couples our age. They all have older children who play together on a regular basis, and I can't ignore the tearing of my heart when I think that my sweet little girl should be right there with them, giggling, screaming, chasing, and just being a child. Instead, I sit there, bouncing Jasper on my knees and watching...always watching...always wishing that my daughter could be right there with them.