Today's the Day

 

As I sit here, awake in these wee hours of the morning, I am reminded of where I was at this time three years ago.  I remember waking up a little after midnight with what I was pretty sure were actually contractions and wondering if this would be the day I'd meet my son.  

I remember timing my contractions in our dark, quiet room while my husband slept.  I remember having to wake him up a few times because in his sleepy fog, he didn't quite grasp that my contractions were already only three minutes apart.  I remember my husband having to wake our new neighbors at almost 3:00 in the morning to ask if they could stay with Kiddo.  

I've mostly forgotten the drive to the hospital, but I remember entering the hospital with fairly intense contractions that just kept getting closer and closer together.  I remember being wheeled upstairs to the maternity ward, having to answer lots of questions in one room (and hadn't I pre-registered? So, why all the questions?) and then being told I still had to walk down the hall to my actual room.  I remember thinking that was just plain crazy, if not a little bit mean.  I remember deciding to stick with my choice to not have an epidural, but then asking for just a little nubain for the pain.  I remember that it didn't seem to help, but that suddenly my eyes wouldn't stay open-- not that I was falling asleep (that would have been impossible), but that my eyelids just kept closing no matter how hard I tried to open them and wondering if that was some weirdo kind of side effect.  

I remember being so glad that the incredibly kind midwife I'd seen at the very end of my pregnancy would be the one helping me deliver, and not the condescending doctor I'd seen earlier, or someone I'd never met.  I remember the nurses telling me to push and thinking that I just couldn't.  It was too difficult, I was too tired-- and yet, somehow, I did.  

  And then, oh then, I met the sweetest angel I've ever known.  He was plump and sweet and perfect, and we were so grateful, so very, very grateful. We couldn't have known then how short a time we'd have with this darling boy, or how awfully our hearts would break less than eight months later.

 

I have a friend whose son died at nearly six weeks old, about a year before Isaac passed away.  I remember reading a friend's posting on her blog that said, "The only thing worse than losing him would be never having had him at all."  When I first read that, Isaac was still with me and I didn't understand what she meant.  Now I do.  With all the pain and grief and sorrow that we've felt in these last two and a half years, it doesn't diminish the joy we felt to have Isaac in our lives.  As horrible as it has been to lose him, I would never want to know a life without those happy, beautiful months with the sweetest baby you could ever meet.  And we cling tightly to the hope that the joy we felt then will be nothing compared to the happiness we'll feel when, after this life, we can be with him again-- forever.

Today is a hard day.  I can't help but sob as I type these words.  I MISS HIM.  There is nothing like the ache of missing your child.  It is the deepest pain you can imagine.  I think of what he would be like at three, that he'd be talking and running and making us laugh.  I wonder if he'd look like Kiddo.  He was a go-getter of a baby, who seemed to do everything early and didn't seem to fear anything.  I imagined he'd be an athlete, but he was already trying to talk so I sensed that he was also going to be very intelligent.  And he was just happy, mellow, and peaceful.  Would he have stayed that way as a toddler?  Would he have liked the things his brother liked?  Would he be reading at the same amazingly early age?  I don't know, and the wondering hurts.

But today is also a glorious day.  It is the day my angel was born.  It was the day he brought brightness and hope into our lives.  And so, today we will once again celebrate his life.  We will honor him with kindness and service.   We will try to make him proud.  We imagine him looking on from heaven and smiling his incredible smile as he sees the good deeds done in his memory.  

  

Once again, many of our friends and family have pledged to do the same.  I hope you are one of them.  It's quite simple, really.  Just go out of your way to make someone else's day brighter.  Write a letter.  Forgive someone.  Share a treat.  Give someone a ride.  Mow someone else's lawn.  Visit someone who is sick or elderly.  Recycle.  Plant a tree.  Apologize to someone you've hurt.  Call your mother.  Say thank you.  Offer to babysit for free.  Share your talents.  Pick up litter.  Go to Church/the Temple/synagogue/mosque.  Decide not to argue with someone.  Give a book to a child.  Give hugs.  Donate to a charity.  And hold your children close.  Tell them how much you love them and how glad you are they're yours.

 And think of Isaac, because today is the day.

***If you would like to make a donation in Isaac's memory, there are many, many organizations we love like Heifer International, LDS Humanitatian Services, The Ronald McDonald House, and others which are linked on the sidebar-- and, of course, there's always your local library.  In particular this year, we support The Cure Starts Now http://csn.donordrive.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.participant&eventID=605&participantID=1106  in honor of Oliver Palmer.  Also, our dear friends, Tara & Aaron are  building a LIBRARY in LESOTHO!!

Dearest Isaac: You Are My Sunshine

In honor of Isaac's third birthday, I've finally created some videos with photos of our beautiful angel boy.  If you watch them in order, you'll see how he grew-- not just taller, stronger, and plumpier, but also brighter and more adorable.  He truly brought us joy each and every day.

Remember me?

Um, yeah, so I used to have this little thing called a blog. And then... well, I don't know exactly what happened. I've had a zillion posts in my head over the past several months, but just have NOT overcome inertia and even attempted them. Part of it is that it's just easier to post photos and little tidbits on Facebook-- especially when I consider how many more people will read/see them there. Part of it, I'm sure, is my old perfectionism rearing its ugly head. I really don't like to write anything unless I know I have ample time to review/edit/tweak what I've written. Recently my depression has worsened, and with that, feelings of inadequacy always come to the forefront. And then there's that feeling like, how in the world will I ever get caught up on blogging/where do I start/does anyone still even care?

I'm curious if blog readers prefer when blog writers just pick up where they are now, or go back and fill in the missing months? If I'm reading the blog of someone I know well, I always prefer to see what I've missed. But I know I am atypical in so many other ways, that I can't assume anyone else feels the same way.

Anyway, in brief, since I last blogged:

• Kiddo turned five. He wanted a birthday party with a dinosaur theme, and I actually pulled it off.
• 
• We did a few fun things this summer-- went to the Children's museum a few times, the zoo on Kiddo's birthday, had cousin O visit, visited other cousins, saw the amazingly talented BYU Vocal Point in Nauvoo (now Kiddo wants to join when he grows up), went to a minor league baseball game, participated in two summer reading programs.
• In July, we went to a grief services event to honor children who died at the same hospital as Isaac. This is our second year attending, and it is a bittersweet blessing for grieving families.
• Much to my initial dismay, Kiddo started Kindergarten. The only option here is all-day, which freaked me out. I have gotten used to it though, and for the most part Kiddo has LOVED school. Only just this week has he said he wants to stay home with me.
• Little Friend has grown chunkier, sweeter, and unbelievably cuter. After I posted about his lovey-dovey-ness, he stopped smooching us for a while. But he is back to his kissy, huggy ways, which I LOVE. Now that he is ten months, he is into everything-- and tries to eat ANYTHING small he sees on the floor. Sigh
• .
• I've dressed the boys in all sorts of matchy-matchy clothes. My great delight is that Kiddo LOVES being matchy-matchy with his brother-- although probably not quite as much as I love it. I'm not sure it would be possible for him to love it as much as I do.
• Little Friend had his first Halloween. That night is actually worthy of its own post altogether, thanks to my very interesting Kiddo.
• Kiddo has gotten hugged, kissed (thankfully NOT on the mouth), and been asked to be best friends by girls in his class. He is quite the hit with the Kindergarten girls. I'm not totally sure how I feel about that yet! I'm glad it all seems innocent so far; he has been instructed to tell them all he is TOO YOUNG for girlfriends!
  
• 
• Kiddo has been diagnosed with asthma, Samuel had his first ear infection, and Daddy-O had a painful leg infection. :( Miraculously, I stayed healthy!
• As for me, well, I guess I haven't been that interesting these days. I've read some good books, of course, and discovered the joys of Spotify, Hulu and The Sing-Off. I may be addicted to playing Words with Friends on Facebook. Sigh. Last week, I donated 13 inches of hair to Pantene's Beautiful Lengths. I still have plenty of hair, but boy, do I feel bald!
  

Anyway, that's just a wee glimpse into what we've done. The previously mentioned topics are all things I've wanted to blog about in depth, and may yet. I was hoping to at least post a lot of photos to go with this, but I'm having problems with Blogger. It doesn't seem to want to post most of my pictures. :( So we'll see if I get any up this week or not... it's always something, eh?

The Second Day of Sunshine (2011)

I've been meaning to post about Isaac's birthday for quite some time now... I'm noticing that both this year and last year, I put so much effort in to getting through Mother's Day and his birthday that in the days following, I sort of fall into a deeper level of grief and sorrow. I guess there is something of a letdown after focusing myself on insisting that those days still be positive. So it gets a little harder to stay motivated in those following days. This year, having both Kiddo and Little Friend has helped considerably. They are truly the most entertaining little people on this planet, in my humble-- and not at all biased-- opinion! But it's still hard, because I can't help but feel the profound absence of that other wonderful little boy whose physical presence is no longer felt in our home.

Without a doubt, one thing that has helped me in the past year, was the semester that I had the opportunity to teach Seminary. It was never a calling I would have aspired to-- neither the prospect of teaching FIVE DAYS a week at SIX A.M., nor of trying to reach sleepy teenagers who'd rather be at home, were things that ever excited me. To be quite frank, I have been terrified of teenagers ever since I was one, and I always thought that if I had to work with them, they'd probably eat me alive! However, I really loved that semester of teaching Seminary. I loved immersing myself in the Gospel, and I love my students. Obviously, they didn't eat me! :) So when I thought of what I'd like to do for Isaac's birthday, one of the first things I thought of was my former Seminary class. While I was pregnant, I rather spoiled them by baking lots of goodies and they always seemed to appreciate it. If I were a really great Mommy blogger, I'm sure I would have fed them delicious, fresh, home-made, from scratch cinnamon rolls or something. And I would have arrived an hour early to decorate a lovely table setting for them with matching plates and napkins. But, let's face it, I'm not! And with a new baby, I'm still tired a lot of the time. So I settled for bringing them donuts, cereal, milk, juice, bananas, and candy (gasp! so bad of me, I know!) You can see from the photo that I won't be putting Martha Stewart out of business any time soon!

I did explain to the kids that it was Isaac's birthday, and that I was spreading sunshine in his honor. I gave them each a little picture of his sweet, smiling face and challenged them to do something for someone else that day, too. They seemed pretty happy with their surprise breakfast, despite its lack of fancy-ness. I did get a picture of them smiling, but I had to promise them that I would never post it anywhere since most of them were still in their pajamas! So you can just pretend these are my Seminary students-- minus the bare midriff, of course! ;)
(photo from Microsoft's clipart website)


After I got back home, the Daddy-O and I went to the Temple. Just like last year, we paid the toll for the next four cars behind us on our way there. The Temple is always a peaceful place for us, and where I often feel closest to Isaac. It is particularly poignant when we go to do sealings, because almost every time, we participate in sealing a child who died very young to his or her parents. Our Temple marriage is something that gives us great comfort as we strive to be worthy to see our Isaac again, and we feel gratitude to be able to extend that opportunity to others whose dear children passed away.

After the Temple, we stopped briefly at home to change clothes and pick up Kiddo and Little Friend. I have to say that our children are incredibly good travelers! It's about 90 minutes or so from our home to the cemetery where Isaac is buried, so poor Little Friend spent several hours that day like this:

However, he couldn't have behaved any more perfectly than he did. What a lovely little baby we have!

We took flowers, a balloon, and cards to sweet Isaac's grave. This was the first time we had taken Little Friend, who actually slept through the whole visit, even though I took him out of the car seat for a few minutes! We sang "Happy Birthday" to Isaac, but had to leave shortly after because some little person needed to "go potty!"

It just so happens that my oldest niece was finishing up her freshman year of college in that very town, so I had prepared a goodie bag for her with chips and candy (again with the candy! Bad, bad Rachael...) to help her get through finals week, as well as a card we'd been meaning to give her for AGES. It was fun to surprise her with a visit at work, and even Kiddo was excited to give his cousin ONE OF HIS DINOSAURS. This was a very big deal for him, and we asked him repeatedly if he really wanted to do this... he said "yes!" We were so proud!

By then we were hungry, so we decided to eat at a favorite Mexican restaurant that Daddy-O and I used to go to back when we were dating and newlyweds. On the way there, we stopped at the post office and mailed a birthday card to an old friend I used to work with but haven't talked to in years. Well, once we got to the restaurant, I caused poor Kiddo to regret his sharing the aforementioned Velociraptor by praising him for his generosity. OOPS! It made for a slightly less enjoyable dinner... but overall, it was still a pretty good time.

It made Kiddo feel a bit better to send Cousin Rebecca a text message in which he wrote:

"This is ya bad cousin [Kiddo]. I want my dinosaur back." I honestly couldn't help but crack up, although I told him that asking for a gift back is rude, but it doesn't make him bad!

Most of the times we have eaten at this restaurant, we have had exceptionally good service, but out waiter was really only adequate. I mention this because I had originally wanted to spread some more sunshine by giving him a HUGE tip. So we compromised by giving him a dollar more than we normally give. :) At least it was something, I guess!

By the time we finished eating, we were all pretty tired so we got in the car and headed home, where we had some strawberry ice cream in honor of Isaac (it was my biggest craving while I was pregnant for him, and even when I was nursing him). Then we all crashed.

Don't worry, Little Friend got to get out of his car seat and sleep in bed! :)

Next year, I imagine we'll do things a little differently. I realized a few things this year:

1. We need to involve the boys more in our planning. I was excited when Kiddo gave away his dinosaur, because I thought he was "getting" what we were trying to do. I realized when he wanted it back that I hadn't really explained to Kiddo much about our plans, nor did I involve him by asking HIM what HE'D like to do for someone.
2. I didn't spend enough time just loving and cuddling my boys that are still here. I was so busy all day that I didn't take the time to just snuggle them and tell them just how much I love them and how grateful I am to be their mommy.
3. We were so tired we didn't do our regular nightly routine with Scripture Study and Family prayer, followed by story-reading. This is another time of day when I have felt closer to Isaac, and of course, it is a time when we as a family feel closest. I felt like missing out on this was a major failure for Mommy.
4. It is very hard to fit the Temple, the cemetery AND meaningful service into one day. We will either need to plan our schedule better, or spread these activities over multiple days because I really would like to include ALL of them as much as I can.
5. If I want to involve others in Isaac's day, I really need to post the invitation a bit earlier!

For all of you who helped participate in spreading sunshine for our sweet boy, we want to express our sincere thanks. I really feel that Isaac would, and does, love the way we choose to remember him. I don't exaggerate when I say he was the sweetest, happiest child. So I can't help but think that his beautiful spirit smiles brightly on us each time he sees those who love him bring happiness to others in his honor.

Another Act of Kindness for Isaac

Tuesday would be Isaac's 2nd birthday. Oh, how we continue to miss him each and every day!

One day last week, I found on the coffee table a note Kiddo had written to his little brother. It reads:

"Isaac
"Happy Birthday uh day
uh I do have uh one more thing I
wanted to say
I love you Isaac
I do say I love you Isaac"

(You can tell that Kiddo thinks it's pretty cool to add "uh" to his notes!)

And today he told me he wants to make a card for Isaac, with my stamps and ink. It is amazing to me how connected to Isaac he is. Not a day goes by without Kiddo talking about his little brother at some point. He likes to make up stories about himself being a detective, and Isaac is always his sidekick. Kiddo is really looking forward to Isaac being resurrected someday, and really hopes it will be soon. It certainly does seem like a long time until that day, though.

I hope that Kiddo will always remember Isaac. I'm not sure how much will fade from his memory as he grows up. So far, he remembers a lot about Isaac, and he loves to look at his pictures and watch videos of him. I know that Daddy-O and I will do our best to keep Isaac's memory alive each day and remind Kiddo how much Isaac loved him and continues to love him.

If you've been reading this blog for at least a year, you'll probably remember that we chose to devote his birthday last year to service. It was a blessing to us to spend his special day trying to share the joy he brought us. It helped to comfort us in our time of deep and intense mourning. So we've decided to make it our annual tradition. This year, with a new baby, we probably will have to choose fewer or smaller acts than last year and hope to go all out next year. Again, we're hoping that our friends and family will join us in sharing some of his brightness and happiness with others by performing some acts of kindness to others. I think I can promise you that if you do, you will be blessed, too, as you bring smiles to someone else.

If you join us in serving someone on Tuesday-- or any other day this week, if you don't see this until later-- I hope you'll please share with me what you've done. I want to compile these acts and put them in a book that I will add to each year. Isaac's life on earth may be short, but it certainly mattered, and I hope his sweet and loving influence will continue to be felt at least as long as I live. Being his mother has been one of the greatest privileges of my life, one I will thank God for as long as I have breath.

Little Friend and his angel brother

To read about how we celebrated last year, read here: http://fromthemixedupmindofrachaelm.blogspot.com/2010/05/in-honor-of-isaacs-birthday.html and here: http://fromthemixedupmindofrachaelm.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-we-did-for-isaac.html

Any doubts that this little guy made everyone smile? :)

A Joyful Noise

Even though he only lived a short time, our sweet Isaac was a little music maker, too. I remember hearing a little person plinking at the keys of the Tap-a-Tune one day and assuming it was Kiddo. I was quite surprised to see little Isaac, about four months old, had scooted over to the little "piano" and was making his own "music." Here's a video, from late September 2009:

Have you ever seen anything cuter or sweeter than that? Oh, how I miss him!

Who's Who?

After seeing Little Friend on Ultrasound, I said to the Daddy-O, "I feel like I know that face already. It's like we've already met."

Daddy-O replied, "That's because he looks just like the other boys."

"Really?" I asked. "You think so?"

So I was quite anxious to see his little face OUTSIDE the womb. And guess what? I think the Daddy-O was right. What do you think?

Here they each are on the days of their birth:

Here they are sleeping:

And they ALL have extremely winning smiles.

Of course, I know which boy is which. Can you tell?

More Than Anything

Today, more than anything, we just miss our sweet Isaac.

We miss his smiles, his cuddles, his kisses, his babbling-- everything about our sweet little angel.

Today, more than anything, we cling to the hope that our Savior offers, that one day we will see him again and hold our little Sunshine once more.

Today we cherish every day of the all-too-brief time we had this loving spirit in our home.

Today we are grateful for each day we were privileged to call this dear, sweet boy our own.

Today, more than anything, we still love our Isaac with all our hearts, more each and every day.

Still here

Even if you haven't experienced much grief in your life, you've most likely at least heard the phrase, "grief comes in waves." And it's so very true. For me, tonight is one of those times when that grief hits like an enormous tidal wave, and the sorrow and the pain is so intense that it even hurts physically.

This New Year's Eve marks the one-year anniversary of Isaac's accident, which is frankly so painful and horrible to remember that I don't think that I will ever be able to write of it. I will say that throughout that day, he had been so sweet, so cuddly and clingy-- grabbing my face to give me slobbery baby kisses-- and I remember feeling so grateful to be his mother.

Before my husband went to work that day, Isaac looked into his eyes and smiled the most incredibly loving smile I've ever seen-- before or since. My husband called to me to look at our baby, and Isaac continued to smile that beautiful smile at both of us. We marveled at the deep kindness and charity we saw in the eyes of a seven-month-old child.

I remember that I held Isaac in my arms that afternoon while reading a long article about blogger Stephanie Nielson's plane crash and lengthy recovery, and making a resolution in my heart that I would truly devote the coming year to my sons, to giving them a fuller, happier life, and to showering them with all the love I feel for them.

I remember that day was the first, and only, time I ever heard him call me "Mama."

And yet... that very night, our world was shattered. And it will never, ever be the same. Nine days later, after many prayers and blessings, after countless tests and examinations revealed our son would not ever recover, we said our goodbyes as Isaac took his last breaths in my arms, surrounded by close family and a few friends. The morning he was born, we had listened to peaceful Beethoven sonatas, and so we played them again for him as his spirit returned to his Father in Heaven.

Sometimes when I realize that we've lived a year now without our Isaac, it feels so awful and terrible to think it has gone so fast. How in the world could we have lived a year already without our little Sunshine? How has life kept going on? Why didn't the world stand still, at least for a little while, to acknowledge the tremendous loss of this perfect little angel? How have I endured life without my baby for nearly a year? It feels so wrong.

For many people, writing about their grief is very therapeutic. I am so grateful to those who are able to share their deepest feelings, to allow others to gain strength from them by bravely laying those feelings bare for others to see. But I don't think I'm really there yet. When I wrote of Isaac's birthday, and how we wished to commemorate it, I was initially overwhelmed by the response. Facebook friends had invited hundreds to spread sunshine for others, and I felt great hope that many people would be touched by our sweet Isaac. But very few people actually let us know how they honored Isaac or what they did. Instead, more people seemed to want to praise us for what we did. And that really bothered me. I didn't want to be praised or congratulated. Maybe it sounds strange, but I did not want anyone to hold me up as an example. Because honestly, I didn't-- and still don't-- feel worthy of it.

Two days after Isaac's birthday, we finally made it back to the cemetery-- exactly a year from the day we had brought him home from the hospital. As I look back on my life, May 12, 2009 was the brightest and most hopeful day I can ever remember experiencing. In contrast, May 12, 2010 was dark, cold, rainy and miserable. I sank deeper into my grief, and the Spring and Summer seemed to slip past me before I even noticed. The loss of our Isaac seemed so pronounced and obvious. Thoughts of all the things he should have been learning and doing haunted me and made my broken heart just ache.

Much to my astonishment, during this period of intense mourning, I was asked to teach Early-morning Seminary, a daily scripture study course for high school students from our Church. Each year has a focus, and this school year's curriculum covers the history of our Church, and also a book of scripture called the Doctrine and Covenants. For more than 14 weeks I was immersed in my teaching materials, and while I would never have aspired to teach teenagers at 6 a.m., it has blessed my life. I have gained strength from reading of those early Latter-day Saints, who willingly endured great hardships because of their testimonies of the gospel. One night, while reading from the Church History institute manual, I came across the following account:

Jane Richards (1823–1913) made the trek across Iowa late in 1846 without her husband, Franklin D. Richards, who was on his way to England... Jane’s little daughter, Wealthy, was ill and died at Cutler Park after weeks of incredible suffering. Sister Richards recounted the incident:

“A few days previously she had asked for some potato soup, the first thing she had shown any desire for for weeks, and as we were then travelling, we came in sight of a potato-field. One of the sisters eagerly asked for a single potato. A rough woman impatiently heard her story through, and putting her hands on her shoulders, marched her out of the house, saying, ‘I won’t give or sell a thing to one of you damned Mormons.’ I turned on my bed and wept, as I heard them trying to comfort my little one in her disappointment. When she was taken from me I only lived because I could not die.”

As I read those words, I couldn't stop my tears. Although Jane Richards' daughter died 164 years before our Isaac, and under different circumstances, I felt a deep kinship with this woman I have never met. I felt that here was someone who knew and felt what I now felt. And she did not give up. She did not die when she buried her precious little one. She kept going. Like me, she didn't know how to keep going. She just somehow did it anyway.

So while it seems incomprehensible much of the time, we still get up every morning and keep trying. I wish I could say I've been strong, and cherished every day and become a better person-- but honestly, grieving is hard. It is exhausting, and draining, and isolating. It can make a person question everything she knows and believes. It includes not just profound sadness, but also deep feelings of fear and regret and anger and jealousy. And I'm not sure how much of that to share, or how to share it.

Another somewhat surprising thing has happened in the past several months...

I became pregnant again. We weren't trying to prevent a pregnancy, but being under such intense stress and grief, we honestly didn't think we would conceive any time soon. And even once I'd had two positive pregnancy tests, I was convinced that I would most likely miscarry. I was fearful not only of that possibility, but also of negative reactions from others. And, truly, some people, when they have been told, have shown no reaction whatsoever or still have never offered any congratulations. So I've kept a lot of that, too, very private.

I suppose there are some who think we are foolish to have another child when we continue to struggle financially due to this crappy economy. Despite his ceaseless, heroic efforts-- not to mention his intelligence and abilities-- my husband has not been offered a job in his field and has worked willingly and diligently at the most thankless job I've ever seen-- for over a year.

I think more likely, though, the others find it distasteful that we should have another child so soon after Isaac's passing. Perhaps they mistakenly feel that we are trying to replace him. But NOTHING could be further from the truth. NO ONE EVER could replace our Isaac. No one will ever be just like him. No one will ever fill that gaping hole in our lives. It's just not possible. We will continue to miss him every day of our lives.

24 weeks pregnant, late September

However, this new baby boy, whom we will welcome in just a few short weeks, will help fill our empty arms. He will be a companion for his oldest brother. He has given us hope for the future. He will bring us joy, and we are grateful to have the blessing of being able to love and nurture another sweet little child. And truly he deserves to have parents who are happy that he is part of their family, too-- even while they grieve the loss of his brother.

So that's where I've been, in a very simplified nutshell... In time, perhaps I will be able to share more. I would like to, if I can figure out a way that feels right and fitting. For now, I'm still working on just getting through each day.