The First Year

For many people, Thanksgiving is a time for family, food, and football. It was for us, too, up until last year. When our Kerrigan passed away Thanksgiving morning, the day took on an entirely new meaning for us. That was the day our lives were shattered and our family broken apart. We lost a little piece of our heart and soul that day, and since then, there's been an emptiness in our lives that will never be filled.

For us, Thanksgiving will always carry with it the stigma of being the day we lost our precious daughter. And, for me, the day has lost all meaning. This year, I had the mentality of "Why should I be thankful when such a large piece of my life is missing?" But then I have to remind myself that I have a wonderful husband who has stood by my side and held me up every day, a beautiful little boy who has brought his own little light to our neverending darkness, and a family who has offered us nothing but love and support through these challenging times.

We had been told that the days leading up to the anniversary are harder than the day itself. I now fully agree with that statement. The week leading up to Thanksgiving was difficult beyond words. The few days before Kerrigan passed are now cemented in my head, and I couldn't help but run through every second of every day. The day before Thanksgiving, we had watched "The Muppet Christmas Carol" and she had helped me make Jell-o salad. She'd been so excited to push the buttons on the blender that she did so before I had a chance to get the lid on. Needless to say, the kitchen and I were soon covered in hot, sticky Jell-o mess! I remember how meticulously she counted out her three handfuls of marshmallows for the Jell-o, how she had desperately wanted to go sledding down the huge snow pile outside the car care center, and how we had to tell her "No" because she was running a lowgrade fever and we didn't want it to get any worse. She made sure she had her special can of olives that she had picked out just for her. She was so proud of it that she showed it to everyone she happened upon in the grocery store. We had ramen noodles for dinner, and she couldn't contain her excitement about playing with her cousins the next day. She went to bed like every other night...pajamas, story, night-night kisses, and a cup of strawberry milk. And then sometime between 5:30 and approximately 7:30, she was gone....and our lives would never be the same.

We thought that time was going to crawl by without her special little spirit in our lives to brighten our days. However, the opposite has become the norm. Time has sped up and slipped past us. A year has gone by like a week. We celebrated the anniversary of her loss, and it seemed like she's only been gone for a few days. It so hard to believe that the little brother she was so excited for will be a year old in two weeks. I wish time would slow down a little so that we can enjoy our time with Jasper more, but, at the same time, I am exceptionally thankful that time is speeding by. It just means that we're that much closer to the day when we'll be reunited with our sweet girl. Until then, we get by day to day...relishing in the knowledge that she isn't far. Her spirit is still here in our home, and we know that she's always watching over us.

Honey, Honey

Here's the prequel to Kerrigan's "Crocodiles and Honey, Honey" video.