Full Circle

 I think I am beginning to understand some things about the journey through grief and all of the emotions that are encountered along the way.  What I'm finding is that there is a cycle in this grief process, a definite coming and going of an myriad of emotions.  Like an ocean tide that never rests, sometimes the feelings move quietly in and out, while other times the waves come crashing with fierce, destructive force.   Though the strength and frequency is unpredictable, there is one thing that remains steadfast and sure.  Always, without fail, the tide recedes and we come full circle to a place where the waters of grief relent just a little.  I have lived and breathed this cycle in my own heart over and over again.  So also have I witnessed it in the lives of my husband and children as together, yet individually, we struggle to maintain footing on this ground of ever shifting sand.  I have also found that no matter how big the waves, nor how deep the water, there is no place so dark or treacherous that our Lord cannot go with us.    Joshua 1:5 ....as I was with Moses, so I will be with you:  never will I leave you, never will I forsake you

The emotions of grief have become very familiar.   One or all of them are present in our home and in the hearts of our family at all times.   Shock, disbelief and denial are evident as we all try to grasp the impossible  truth that death has visited our home and there is absolutley nothing that we can do about it.  There seems to be a cocoon around us that refuses to allow reality to penetrate.   Anger presents itself at the most inoppurtune times, often adding very interesting dynamics to an already hormone filled house of teenagers.    Sadness is characterized by quietness, far off distant gazes, and tear filled eyes.  And then there are times when the violent waves of desperation smash into us.  In those times, the aching, desperate need for our little girl threatens to swallow us.  We cycle through the feelings and emotions many times a day.    Our hearts run the whole gamut of emotion even within an hour or one conversation.  Always, the hand of our Lord, the hand more powerful even than the waves of grief, reaches out and carries us.  We are able to look back and know that, once again, He has brought us full circle.  There is a cycle, a pattern, a path that is becoming well worn.   By observing the signs along the path we gain the assurance that even when we think we cannot go on, our Lord will carry us through.   There is hope, even when all seems lost. 

At times my soul feels as though it will erupt with anger at the seeming injustice and unfairness.  The questions, which have no answers this side of heaven, roll over in my mind.   "Why?"  "Why, God, would you take her when we loved her so much?"  "Why are there children out there being abused but you took my child who was cherished and treasured?" "Why would you sustain her life through illness and and surgery, only to snatch her healty body and glorious smile from us?"  "Why are other people's lives going on as always, while ours has been turned upside down?"  But God, in His infinite power and understanding,  lovingly allows my rantings and railings and then ever so softly reminds me that it was He who gave Laynee to us in the first place.  Job 1:21 The Lord giveth and the Lord hath taken away;  blessed be the name of the Lord

 The waves of desperation are so forceful at times that I fear that I will not be able to get up.  They beat upon me with violent force.  Smashing me to the ground. blinding me to the good that surrounds me and snatching the glimmers of hope from my vision.   In these desperate moments, the pain of missing her spreads through my being like a vapor.  The viciousness of despair purges all coherent thought but one, the absolute certainty that I can't do this.  Those are the only words that my brain can piece together amidst the sea of despair.  I Can Not Do This.  But my Lord does not leave.  He is there to tell me "yes you can."  Sometimes He throws me a lifeline in the form of a trusted friend, a song, a card in the mail, a verse that speaks to my soul.  Always, he reaches out and plants my feet on firmer ground.  Once again, I know, that my Lord has brought me full circle, he has calmed the waters as he does every time the tide rises.  I admit that sometimes the waves are so deep, so thick, so dark that I lose sight of my Lord.  I cannot feel Him, I cannot see Him, I cannot hear Him.  Yet He is there.  Hebrews 13:5 Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you. 

The third song on the playlist located at the bottom of the blog, is a new song by Kutless, entitled "What Faith Can Do."  I heard a few days ago for the first time and the words resonated within me.  As I live and observe the cycle of grief and watch as the circle is completed time and time again, I grow in trust and confidence in our Lord.  I become increasingly aware that the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end.  Lamentations 3:22  It is only by faith in a God whose love knows no bounds that we can survive.  It is only because of a God who goes with us into the harshest waves that we can withstand the brutality and force of life's raging sea.  It is only because God is good.......all the time

Too much love?

I have, for quite some time, been in the habit of journaling my prayers.  I have found that if I write (actually I type them on the computer) out my prayers I am much better able to focus and keep my mind from being distracted as I pray.  I enjoy going back and reading old prayer journals as it is proof of where I have been, how I have grown and how God has prepared my heart.  

I've gone back and read the journal entries from the days before the accident.  There is one thing that stands out in nearly all of the entries,  my love for Laynee Grace.  There are clearly praises for all of my children, I thank God for every one of them and for their individuality.  In the days and weeks leading up to the accident I praised God for Laynee in nearly every prayer.  I praised Him for the way that He orchestrated events to bring her to Peoria, Illinois and into our home.  I praised Him for her simplisity, for her joy and happiness, for the hope that seemed to ooze from her.  I can't help asking myself, did I love this child too much?

In the years that we had Jalayne, we encountered some very rough times where Moise was concerned.  Soon after Laynee's arrival, Moise began having seizures.  We went through different cocktails of medications, trying to find the right doses and combinations that would control the seizures while allowing him to be functional as well.   The medications produced a great deal of negative behaviour, making life with him very challenging.  More times than I can count, I found myself at the end of my rope.  I often despaired, wondering if I could take much more of the awful and aggressive behavior.  I told many people in those days that Laynee helped to offset the challenges we faced with Moise.  Her bright happy face was always their to bring joy to my days.  I couldn't wait to get her out of bed in the mornings.  When I snuggled her little body close to me, it was like receiving a hug from God himself.  You couldn't be sad when Laynee was around.  Her smile was so very contagious, you simply could not stay sad for long.  After particularly trying "Moise days," Jalayne was always there with her sweetness to "make it all better."  I believed that God new that we would need Laynee to help offset the constant battles we faced.  For this I praised my God over and over again.

The realization of how often I gave thanks for her, creates a mix of emotions.  On one hand I'm so thankful for the fact that I never took her or her presence in our life for granted.   I felt honored to have been chosen to be her mother, even though she was not formed in my womb.  I knew that God had a special purpose for her with us and I praised him for it.  Jim adored her.  Our children melted over her.    I'm grateful that we have not one single regret.  We loved her so much, there was no room for anger or harsh words, only a great deal of love. 

On the other hand, this proof of my appreciation for her brings the question WHY? to the forefront.  Why, when I loved her so much , would she be taken from me?  Why would she die when I need her so much?  Why? Why? Why?  Again I ask, is it possible that I loved her too much.  Can it be that perhaps I depended too much on the joy that she brought to us?  I've had a number of people over the years who have come to me with questions regarding adoption and foster care.  There is one piece of advice that I give to all......don't hold back love, whatever you do, don't try to protect youself by holding back some or all of your love from a child placed in your care.  We fell head over heels in love the minute we laid eyes on Laynee.  We poured all the love we could into her.  Was it too much?  Did I love my baby too much?  Is that why it's so hard to give her back?

Painful Reminders

I had an  unpleasant experience this morning.  About every 6 months we have a round of doctor appointments. Most of their specialists want to see them bi-annually, for routine check ups.  Because Moise and Jalayne saw many of the same doctors, I often tried to schedule them together.  Today I received a call from one of the offices, confirming their appointments.   My heart pounded and my hands shook as I told her that I need to cancel the appointment for Jalayne.  She asked if I would like to reschedule and I simply said "no." She then voiced her concern, saying that "she really needs to be seen" and questioned if I had plans of switching to another doctor.  She also was concerned that we had not done the "telephone check" of Jalayne's pacemaker for several months.  There was no way around it, I had to voice the dreaded words.  "Jalayne died in September"  I told her, to which she responded with profuse apology and the rote words of sympathy.  I think that I shall never get used to saying those words.

Yesterday I walked out to our shed in search of something.   It's strange how few times I've been out there since the accident.  I'm not sure why, except that there are so many beautiful, heart wrenching memories of Laynee and her daddy.  Hanging on the bulletin board with push pins, is her little jacket that she wore just days before the accident.  She went into daddy's shed,  straight to a bucket of grease, naturally getting it everywhere before daddy could redirect her.    That jacket, badly stained with grease, is testimony of a curious, little girl who once occupied are home and our hearts.  As I went into the shed yesterday my eyes were immediately drawn to the red cooler sitting on a table.  I've known that the cooler is there for awhile now.   This cooler's significance is that it was with us on our wonderful trip to Sounthern Illinois Labor Day weekend.  I had taken food for all of us to eat for lunch at the park.  Pepper Jack Cheese will always bring bittersweet memories because Grandma, that day,was unprepared for such a taste and dubbed it "EVIL Cheese."  One day, I did open the lid to the cooler, only to close it quickly  upon discovery that it still contained that weekend's food.  Laynee's death washed away the importance of all tasks such as emptying a cooler.  I know that someday I will have to empty the cooler but I continue to put it off, dreading the idea that there may very likely be something in it that will bring another flood of heartwrenching Laynee memories.   I'm quite certain that the contents of that cooler are "growing" by now but I guess they will have to keep growing because opening that cooler, for some strange reason, is something I just cannot do.  And so the red cooler sits, there on the table, a mere object, yet so full of memories and reminders that the joy and sunshine of that weekend is gone.   I know that Laynee's light has not gone out.  It shines in heaven, brighter than it ever did here on earth, it's just that I can't see it. 

Precious Girl, Silly Ways, Priceless Memories

How can it be that I am still finding "Laynee Things" around?  I guess because she was everywhere.  She was ornery and mischievious and into everything.  This morning, while preparing to go grocery shopping, I was checking to see if I had something in one of the lower pantry shelves.  I moved a couple of bottles around and noticed something towards the back that didn't belong.  I reached back to get it and my heart nearly stopped.  I had in my hand, a granola bar, still in the wrapper yet all chewed up.  Without question, this was Laynee's doing.  Just below that shelf is where we keep all of our snacks, granola bars, nutrigrain, oatmeal cream pies, etc.  Laynee loved that cupboard.  Sometimes she wasn't supposed to be getting into these things but she had a tendency to do it anyway.  Instead of seeking help with opening her goodies, she just chewed on it, wrapper and all.  I always knew when she was getting into the cupboard because she couldn't do a single thing gently and I'd hear the cupboard door hit the wall behind it as she threw it open.  She would hear me coming sometimes and throw the munched up treat back into the cupboard and slam the door shut, running as fast as her little legs would take her, thus the stray bar today.  Sometimes she would chew the desired treat beyond recognition and then throw it in the garbage.  Naughty??  Maybe a little, but oh so precious.  She didn't understand the concept of "not before dinner"  or "you already had one."  Since the other kids go to the cupboard for their own snacks, she saw no reason not to as well. 

After the initial shock of finding the offensive looking granola, I sat there, on the floor, my mind flooded with all of her little girl ways.  Joy and grief, laughter and sorrow collided as I remembered her.  I pictured, in my minds eye, her twinkling eyes as she would reach into the cupboard wondering if this time was okay for a treat.  I recalled how natural it was to her to go to the cupboard and grab a bag of chips, just like the older kids did from time to time.  The only difference being that she inevitably carried them upside down, leaving a trail behind her. She loved paper and would grab sheets from the desk drawer and carry it around, along with pen or pencil.  Eventually she would crumple up the paper and toss it in the trash.  How we laughed when she would help fold clothes by putting a pair of someone's clean underwear on her head.  So many times she would come from her bedroom with a pair of short's on, both legs in one hole and the shorts creating nothing more than a band around her waist.  I miss the foam puzzle pieces with chew marks, the pile of toys that she threw down the steps,  and seeing her tail end as she disappeared into the drier whenever the door was open.  I long to hear the girls yelling because Laynee had gotten into their bathroom cupboards and "Laynee, where did you put my lotion" or "Laynee stay out of my room."  There's no longer a need to close all the doors.  When in Daddy's office, she would pull everything from the drawers and climb into the cupboards, she fit perfectly.  Sometimes she would head for Daddy's file cabinets but that was one of the biggest NO, NO's.  While I was dressing Moise she would grab his shirt or sock and run out of the room, laughing all the way. 

So much laughter.  So much joy.  Everything an adventure, full of wonder and excitement.  She played so hard and then she slept so hard.  How I wish I could carry her warm sleeping form in from the car after a day of making Kathy, Karen, or Aunt Fern chase her around.  I recall the feel of her breathing soft against my face, the tousled hair, the smell of a little girl who played hard all day.  She would not flinch as I gently laid her in bed, her legs like wet noodles as I removed her shoes and covered her up.  So often Iwould stand there for a long time, just watching her even breathing,  marveling at modern medicine, without which she would not be able to play so hard.   I would Praise my God for her as I kissed my fingertips and placed the kiss to her soft cheeks. 

I love to remember her, to talk about her, to write about her.  It hurts!!!! It hurts in a way that mere words can never describe but I so love to remember the beautiful things about Jalayne Grace.  Thank you Lord, for every memory and even for the hurt, for it is through this that I am reminded of blessed we have been.  If we had not loved like crazy, neither would we hurt like crazy

BUBBLE BEARD

This pictue is so endearing as her face looked much like this

the last time I saw her. 

This is a great place for playing.  Lots of clothes and

warm too.

Better head out before someone finds me here

OOF!!  That's a tough climb

Wait a minute what's that? I didn't see that before

Oops!  I've been caught.

Missing Laynee, Missing Downs

Yesterday afternoon we had the beautiful priviledge of meeting Nebraska "Braska" Larae Woods.  I've written of Braska before.  Her mother, RK, and I met on an online Down Syndrome Forum.  RK has helped me with the blog background and so graciously allowed us to send clothes, which we would have chosen for Laynee, for Braska to wear for the holidays.  The Wood's family was meeting friends in Morton and came to visit us as well.  I admit to being a bit apprehensive about this visit, uncertain of the direction my emotions would take upon seeing sweet Braska, who has become so dear through reading her own blog and pictures.  Braska is her own sweet, beautiful little person, so unique and individual.  As is so typical with Down Syndrome,  she has certain areas of developement which are lagging behind and others in which she excels.  She gave hugs willingly, without reservation, and oh how good those hugs were to all of us, soft and squishy with the "floppiness" of low muscle tone.   RK allowed me to talk freely and openly about Laynee.  I think I said "Laynee would........"  or "Laynee always did....." more in those hours than in the last 4 months combined.  RK and Braska's daddy, Muncher, looked at pictures of Laynee from her birth up to her last weeks of life.  Our kid's, with the exception of Grant who was at a wrestling meet, were completely enamored by Braska and her sister, Kinlee and vice versa.  It was impossible not to note the DS traits that Braska possesses.  Universal traits familiar and dear to a family who has loved DS.  Braska, like Laynee, was quiet, at least while she was here, her voice soft and slightly husky. Her eyes,  her nose, glasses, the soft, wispy hair, short fingers and tiny feet, all bittersweet reminders of a little girl who is gone from us, a little girl who also was blessed with an extra chromosome.  She had certain ways that she would hold her hands, gestures that we once took for granted, now so endearing.  At one point, she snuggled up close to me for quite some time and my heart ached for my own sweet baby girl.  For while this child was beautiful in a way that only Down Syndrome children can be, she was not my DS child.  Indeed,  there will never be another child quite like our Laynee Grace.  As they were leaving we said good bye, and Braska's sweet "bye bye" could have been a recording of Laynee's own softly spoken "bye bye." The words wrapped tightly around my heart and eye contact with Jade told me that the similarity was not lost on her. 

I've always been amazed by the beautiful people that I have met as a direct result of being mother to Moise and Jalayne.  This experience with The Woods Family was no exception.   Indeed, many of my most cherished and valued relationships are those which originated because of my being mother to these to lovely little people.  I find also that it is these relationships that prove to be the most sustaining on this difficult path of sorrow.  I read somewhere a few days ago that the greatest friends are not those who have been with us the longest but those who are willing to walk along side of us through the darkest times in our lives.   I praise God for my friends, old and new, who have gone, time and time again into the pit of darkness and despair with me.  They hold me up in my weakness.  They pray when I can't remember how.  They allow me to talk about my Laynee, laugh with me, cry with me, get angry with me.  It is evident through this relationship with the Woods' family, that although Laynee is not here, she's still being used to bring amazing people into our lives.

Seasons

My Beautiful Laynee Grace, how I miss that grin

Today is the seventh day of the month.  Another angelversary for Laynee.  We've lived one quarter of a year without her sunshine.  The days since returning from Florida have been bitterly cold.  As brutal as winter in Illinois can be, grief is much more brutal.  During midwest winter there is a certainty that warmer, more pleasant days are ahead, that spring is just months away.  However, there is no absolute that there is such a thing as springtime in this place known as grief.

While in Florida for the holidays, there were brief moments which felt like reprieve.  In these instances, while I was busy snapping pictures of the kids in the ocean, or watching them open gifts, the pain of losing Laynee was not at the forefront of my mind.  Death, trauma, and loss very briefly took the back seat to present time.  I even dared to entertain the thought, the hope, that perhaps if we survived this first holiday season without her, grief would lose some of it's debilitating power over me.  As we returned to the harsh, cold, winter in our home state and the routine of every day life,  the icy hand of grief has once again wrapped around me.  The powerful grip threatens to consume me and drag me into it's abyss.  Reality of death has pummeled me with renewed force. 

No one ever told me that grief looked so like fear.  Six months ago, these words written by CS Lewis would not have made a bit of sense to me.  Today, I find that those words resonate within me for I am living them.  When I wake each morning there is a clawing, groping sensation inside of me, a feeling much akin to panic.  I cannot help wondering if it is possible to survive one more day without her.  At times the truth sends tingling, chilling sensations throughout my body. There seems to be a physical, driving force pressing upon me, paralyzing me, squelching my ability to accomplish anything outside of existence.  I cease to function as I once did. I can no longer think complex, intellectual thoughts.  I've lost my ability to retain basic information.  Things which once stirred excitement and zeal in me, now leave me with little more than apathy.  Exhaustion has taken up residence in my mind, body and soul.  The simplest of tasks seem insurmountable.  At times, the tsunami of grief seems to have purged me of all that I was and what I had hoped to become.  I feel like one who is lost, wandering aimlessly from one day and into another.  There is no focus, no goal, no direction.  Instinct tells me that I cannot go around this barrier, that I must go directly through the brutality of grief.   

From inside, looking out my window, there is beauty in winter.  The world appears to be silenced by the white blanket of snow.  The plants cease their growing,  the lake appears still and lifeless.   The trees, though heavy with snow, are majestic.  Beneath the dormancy and harshness of winter is growth and life.  Life lies beneath winter's disguise, just as hope lies beneath griefs darkness.  There is comfort in knowing that though the seasons of the year and of the heart may change, though they become brutal and harsh, my God remains on his throne.  ......and He is good.

New Year

The beginning of a New Year is a time of looking ahead, as well as reflecting on the year past.  As I look back over 2009, there is a part of me that wants to call it the worst year of my life, the year that our baby was taken so quickly from us. The year in which our world threatened to stop turning.  The year in which life, as we knew it, ended.    Like Noah's flood, our recent grief washes away all else and makes it nearly impossible to remember anything that happened, save this one heartwrenching event.  However, to call 2009 a terrible year, is to minimize the beauty that our precious little girl brought to our life.  I must remember that in 2009 Jalayne Grace Holmes, our beautiful little girl, our daughter, sister, niece, granddaughter, whom the world may view as imperfect, danced for 8 months and 7 days.  She danced across our floors, in our arms, and in our hearts.  She lit up lives, both old and young.  She giggled, and laughed, ran, played, learned, as well as, taught and dazzled many with her radiant beauty and smiling face.  She brought sunshine to many lives. 

The Lord has blessed 2009 in many other ways as well.  Jim and I own and operate two successful business, even in the face of economic recession, because God is good.  We were part of the Easter Seals VIP campaign, raising money for children with disabilities, because not only is God good, but He works in the hearts of men, causing them to give of themselves.  Our five living children have grown and matured and blossomed, because God is good.  Our daughter Jamee was named an All State Runner in Cross Country and was part of the track Honor Roll. She ran an entire year, injury free.  She plays basketball, works part time at the coffee shop and is an excellent student.  Grant is learning to drive, worked all summer for his dad, and is also a good student.  He downed two deer in 2009, one with his bow and one with shotgun.  Jade was a brilliant student in 2009, earning near perfect grades.  She was also a two time state track medalist, as well as placing ninth in state cross country despite the fresh weight of grief that she carried upon her shoulders.  Brock, also a great student, continues to be his dad's shadow.  He's developed an interest in books and reading this year, something we've tried for years to instill in him. He ran his first cross country season.  Moise went an entire year without a seizure, major surgery, or illness.  A high blood pressure scare turned out to be nothing to be overly concerned over.   Through hard work and determination, he has learned things that no one would ever have dreamed possible. Our little deaf boy with microcephally and calsification on the frontal lobe of his brain, is learning to read.  All of this because God is good........ always, all the time, God is good and God does good.

As I have found with every trial that God has allowed in our life, difficult experiences allow for new and beautiful relationships.  Through the sorrow and heartache of Laynee's death, new friendships have been formed and many old relationships have been rekindled.  God is good.  This year has provided our family with oppurtunity and even necessity to view life, as well as death, from a very different perspective than ever before.  Heaven holds new appeal to each of us because Jalayne is there.  As we flew home from Florida on New Year's Eve, the Lord created a masterpiece of art for our eyes.  The sun began to set as we flew above the clouds.  The clouds, billowy and soft, lay like a plush carpet just below us while the sun in radiant color made it's decent.  The view from the window next to Jamee and Brock was stunningly beautiful.  On the other side of the plane, through the window next to Jade and Grant, darkness began to shroud around us.  On that side, the clouds below us were illuminated by the light of a huge radiant moon, which appeared to be close enough to reach out and touch.  Though this masterpiece lasted only a few minutes, it was awe inspiring. We were surrounded, on all sides by God's majesty.   It was the hand of God saying "Trust Me, I am good."  Jim, seated just behind me, said the words that were in the hearts and minds of each of us.  "Picture Laynee dancing across those clouds."  That night as we went to bed Jim said, "I wouldn't have minded if our plane had gone down right then."  My response was that yes, I had the same thought, all of our children with us, ready and waiting to see Heaven, to see our Lord and to see our precious Laynee girl.  Then, in the car on New Year's Day, Jamee shared that she had the same thought.  Because Laynee is already there, our anticipation for heaven is greater than ever before.  Our hope comes for the Lord, because He is good.

In summation, 2009 was not the worst year of our life, not by a long shot.   The most traumatic?  Absolutely! The most tragic?  Definitely!  The most sorrow filled?  Without a doubt!   Yet, not the worst, not if we choose to remember that God is Good and, even when we don't understand, God does Good

        And my God shall supply all your needs according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus 

(Ph 4:19)

He shall have dominion also from sea to sea and from the river to the ends of the earth
(Ps 72:4)

A friend loveth at all times  (Pr 17:17)

....yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation

(Habakuk 3:18)

 Rejoice with them that do rejoice and weep with them that weep
(Romans  12:15)

By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples,

if ye have love one toward another. 

(John 13:35)

Behold I am the Lord God of all flesh, is there anything too hard for me 
 (Jeremiah 32:27)

How great are his signs and how mighty are his wonders....

 (Daniel 4:3)

                                                                                

Wherefore I desire that ye faint not at my tribulation for you, which is your glory

(Ephesians 3:13)

It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not, they are new every morning. Great is they faithfulness 

 (Lamentations 3:22-23)

Be of good courage and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the Lord 

(Ps 31:24)

Praise ye him, sun and moon: praise him all ye stars of light 

 (P2 148:3)

Look unto the heavens and see: and behold the clouds (Job 35:5)

But our God is in the heavens, he hath done whatsoever he hath pleased (Ps 115:3)

Dance In Heaven, Laynee Girl.  Dance for all of us here

God is Good, Laynee.  You know that better any of us