CS Lewis once said that "grief is like the sky, it covers everything." In recent weeks, our family has found that this is so very true. It seems that there is no right or wrong way to travel this path of grief. I have created this blog in hopes that some day we will be able to look back on our journey and see written proof that our great God never leaves us. God is good all the time.

Celebrating Laynee

You might want to scroll to the bottom of this page and pause the music before playing this video.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Etched in Stone

I received a call yesterday from the vault and monument place.  Laynee's headstone is ready for approval.  They want us to go in an look at how everything is laid out before they etch it in stone.   His words were something to the effect of  "we have 'your daughter's headstone' and you can come in and look at it at anytime."    My daughter's headstone.  My 2 1/2 year old baby girl's headstone.  There is something terribly wrong about those words.  They are backwards, mixed up, twisted and turned.   They are not the words that mothers are supposed to hear. 

Jim and I have allowed our children to lead the way in determining how and when to take some of the painful steps that must be taken after the death of a loved one.  Sometime in November Brock said to me  "Mom, when are we going to get a headstone for Laynee?"  If it were up to me the answer would have been, "never."  But it's not up to me, it's not about me. Laynee needs a headstone, something tangible to signify her life here with us.  More importantly, our children need a headstone because it is a step in the grief process, another move toward closure.  And so we went together to find the perfect headstone for our little girl.  The kids had ideas of how it should look.  Left up to to them, it probably would have been a monument of gigantic dimensions.  However, with a little guidance from mom and dad, a headstone was designed just right for Laynee.  We were given a time frame of when to expect it to be completed and it seemed like a long time.  It wasn't.  That seemingly "long time" is past. 

With our satisfaction and approval, the etching will begin.  Laynee's life and death, all two and a half years of it, will be etched in stone. There, etched into the shiny black, will be proof to all who pass by that this little girl danced on this earth for only a very short time.  There too, I hope, will be testimony to a child loved, cherished and treasured: a child who loved hee hee's, a sister, a daughter, the prettiest girl in all of the world.
Much as I don't want to approve a headstone for her, I will.  This task will be accomplished just as every other task has been.  The etching will begin but there is no tool that can etch as deeply as her beauty and joy has been etched upon our hearts.  That etching could only be done by our God, the Master craftsman.


  1. To the Holmes',
    We will pray for your family as you view Laynee's headstone. To go to the cemetary and
    see the closure does not mean that we will not
    see our prettiest girl again. At times she is all around in person, but she is forever in our hearts. We treasure her memories so much!!!

    We Love you,

  2. I've so appreciated getting to know your sweet heart and Laynee's through your beautiful writing. Today's words are perfect once again.

    May your family find comfort and peace as you sing this hallelujah with darling Laynee:

    “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” Revelation 20: 4

  3. I have been crying so hard reading this. I know it's because I have been where you are and still am. We have two beautiful children from birth and three beautiful children from adoption and one in heaven. Our last three have DS. Anthony was born and placed in foster care after birth. He is now 7 and has a lot of health issues...but is def his Mommy's boy. Ethan is 4 and has DS too. We got him at birth and he is the light of our lives too. Ethan died on my husbands lap when he was almost two. He was revived and had to have a second open heart surgery. He has a pacer/defib. Our youngest, Carmen Isabella, is in Heaven. I was with her before she was 24 hrs old. Carmen had open heart surgery at 1 wk and two days. She never made it out of the PICU. She died when she was 37 days old, on April 27th 2008. Reading through your stories made me relive so many of those helpless, hopeless feelings. I miss her so much. I know exactly how you feel. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I am here. God bless you. I am sure Laynee is with Carmen. We will see them again... Thanks for following our blog and our journey to bring another little girl with DS into our life.