The Little Blond Who Always Had a Smile

 This picture just kind of personifies Lynda's personality.  Always smiling and laughing even while having seizure after seizure.  As soon as it was over, she usually was back to her sweet personality.

 And as you have seen in many earlier pictures, Lynda was always clapping.  When she did something good, we clapped and said "Good girl" so she often just did it for herself.  LOL
She had a string of words and sounds that she said and she expected us to repeat it.  IF we did, she clapped for us.  If we didn't, she got up closer to our face and said it again (and again and again).  She also wanted everybody's legs crossed in the same direction just like she wanted everything else lined up perfectly.  Lining up people was a harder job.

 Swinging....Lynda loved being outside and she loved swinging.  She learned how to pump her feet and could swing all by herself for a long time.  I love the expression on her face.

 Love the sweet smile on my little Tweety Bird.  This was the typical Lynda. 

Sitting at her little table, she'd arrange and rearrange her bottles and bowls and things.
                       

 Riding on trike or a riding toy like her little dog actually slowed her down.  She couldn't go nearly as fast on them as she could on her own two feet.  She was a sweet little girl who seldom ever rested and was always on the go with a smile on her face (and generally getting into something that wasn't on her approved list of toys).  She was ingenious.  She was tireless.  She was adored and loved.

Grief's Ferocious Tentacles

There are so many tentacles of grief.   It feels like as I escape being ensnared by one of grief's giant arms threatening to choke the life from my body...there's always another one waiting just out of sight that I don't see coming.

I believe that a dominant theme in the grief from the loss of a child is the profound sense of loss for what could have been.

For me with Lynda, it is the strongest with what could have been had she not been abused at the child development center in Batesville, MS and if she had not gone to Millcreek Rehabilitation Center in Magee, MS.  If Lynda had been allowed to continue to learn and grow as the little girl we entrusted to Millcreek for respite care in September, 1981....how different her life might have been.

So we as parents have no choice but to fight through grief while protecting our vulnerable hearts and wrestle with a force most of us have never prepared to battle.  Some days we manage to keep the demons at bay and other times we just hide and hope they don't find us.

In our desperate attempt to survive we find ourselves looking over our shoulders....back in time at the exact time we are  also examining the future.  When we collide face first into the past with our child and the future without her....the grief monster tries to devour us with the profound sense of loss for what could have been.

So we unpack our memories of our child of the time we were given.  We do what parents do best and guard those memories with the sweet knowledge that God shared a miracle with us that was time sensitive.  Like a caterpillar that enters into a cocoon and later emerges as a spectacular butterfly our child burst into radiant perfection as she entered heaven.  As we wrestle grief's hold on our hearts,we are confident that the only arms that hold her are those of Jesus.  For my precious child there are no more battles.  The victory has been won by Jesus for her and He is right beside her mother as she banishes the profound sense of what could have been by keeping her eyes of what is yet to come.

Grief begins to shrink over time as God continues to show me all that my child has gained and the desire to finish this world's work and cross over to where she is waiting is intensified.  Purpose edges out grief but it doesn't destroy it.  Grief will never go away until I join Lynda again.  Hopefully we parents will learn to dodge the spears grief throws at our hearts when we are least expecting them. Memories are a powerful weapon to protect our hearts.  Memories of our child cover our heart in a protective self-sustaining armor.  The shield can never be taken away and it is the perfect antidote to grief's tendency to try to suck the life from our souls.

God gave us our child and left us with vivid and precious heart prints of the times we spent together.  Grief is no match for our God so we know that in time we will claim victory over our fears and the emptiness that once was filled by our child. But we will never forget.  We will never be the same.

Each mother's time table for grief is different.  Each dad deals with grief on his own terms.  Parenting is personal and grief is too.  One day at a time we chip away at grief with God's help.  One day.  One hour.  One minute.  That's just the way it is.  The sooner we accept that it isn't going to be okay overnight, the sooner we begin to heal.

Keeper of the Memories

This occurred to me almost immediately after Lynda passed away.  There were so many things about Lynda that I didn't want to die with me.  I am the keeper of the memories.

Her Daddy was already waiting on Lynda in heaven.  Her brothers Kevin and Kristopher are too young to know anything about her before her stroke.  Kristopher wasn't even born.

Since I've never experienced the loss of a child
(and pray I never do again) I hadn't given thought to this phenomenon.  Yes, I knew that we mothers instinctively protected our children.

It only stands to reason that when all we have left after our child dies are memories, we would instinctively protect those memories with the same tenacity we protected our child.

I thank you for being a part of this grieving mother's attempt to protect Lynda's memories through this blog and later a book about her life.

Now Tell Me What Do You Do Up in Heaven....

This isn't an original video but I saw it today and it spoke to my heart.  I wonder every day what Lynda is doing in heaven.           

God Has Brought Me Through Before

As long as there is a Friday and a Saturday, I will always think about the Friday that we were given the prognosis for Lynda and took her off life support and Saturday morning being the day she left this world for her true home in heaven.

Three months later it still hurts and for so many days I wondered if I would ever be the same again.  There was an old song performed by the group Accapella called "Do Not Be Afraid For God is With You" that I had in the car and listened to it over and over.  Before the funeral.  After the funeral.  Any time I felt the strength leaving my body....I played that song and remembered that no matter what....God was with me.  God had Lynda in His arms and although I couldn't feel them, He had me in His arms as well.

Three months later I am beginning to be able to focus on things more and it seems that where my hair was coming out by the handful due to stress the hair loss is beginning to slow.  It's not as difficult to put one foot in front of the other.  God is using time to heal my heart by reminding me each day how happy Lynda is now. 

God has certainly brought me through many, many dark times with Lynda that fear threatened to suffocate me.  Grabbing onto His promises through faith is the only way I will ever survive any of satan's attacks. 

I can't believe it is now November.   August 2nd to November 2nd has been a blur.  It's through these types of days that we really do have to choose faith over the fear that threatens to immobilize us.  And we have to do it over and over each day.  Each hour, even each minute.

I thank God for Lynda and celebrate today her life here on earth with me and her life eternally in heaven where by faith I know I will see her again and live with her forever.  With a million times more eagerness than I greeted each Christmas morning as a child, I look forward to the day that I will see her again and be able to fall to my knees to thank God for all He has done for Lynda and for me.

Lynda's Monument is Complete

Although this picture of Lynda's monument isn't the greatest because of the angle, I wanted to share it with you.  It hasn't been installed yet but the monument company sent us a picture of the finished stone with the heart etched.

We were very happy with the way it turned out and can't wait to get it into place.  We're waiting now until they have enough monuments to install in the Booneville area.  Since they wholesale monuments to the other monument companies in Mississippi and surrounding states, it shouldn't be too long.

It's still difficult for me to look at the monument and realize that it's for Lynda.  It's not, however difficult for me to imagine her in heaven safe in the arms of Jesus.

Lynda's Legacy of Love

This is the three month anniversary of Lynda's death.  We miss her so much but celebrate with her entry into paradise with Jesus.  Oh how I long to be able to see her again and talk with her.