Rinse and Repeat

Celia -- Poppy's big red tub -- winter 2008

 Tucker -- Poppy's big red tub -- winter 2010

I don't have very many words right now.  But I do have pictures.  I'm afraid I'm turning in to one of those moms who looks at a dozen photos that are only marginally different and likes them so much she feels compelled to share them all anyway.  Forgive me.

JEB

Life is but a dream

Our dreams for our daughter slumbered.  And then they died.

And so will she.
BDSRA has issued a $25,000 research challenge, through December 31, thanks to the generosity of the BDSRA Board of Directors and various family foundations.  Over the next three days, all donations will be matched dollar for dollar.
There are also several days left to stock up on Cardthartic greeting cards with the promo code "Celia."  Twenty percent of each purchase will go to BDSRA's efforts to improve and prolong a stricken child's life.

Your contribution could help a dream come true.
JEB

Snowmance

He loves the snow.

And we love him.

JEB

Scene

 

Like A Candle

A Christmas candle is a lovely thing; it makes no noise at all,
but softly gives itself away; while quite unselfish, it grows small.
-Eva K Logue

Swoon

"What does Mommy say?" has been part of his performance for months.  The cow says "moo."  The car says "beep."  The camel says... well, I'm not sure how to spell what the camel says.  And Mommy says "I love you."  He's been able to say the words for awhile, responding to our queries and reciprocating our offerings.  But this week he started sharing them unsolicited, I love you. 
I hear his heart in every syllable.  And, oh, is it ever mutual.

JEB

Remembering

If last month was supposed to be about gratitude, this month feels like it should be about remembering.  I spend purposeful time doing it, afraid the memories might shift if I let them get too far.  But my idle thoughts always land on her.  Wondering what could have been, I realize I can’t forget something I never knew.  So I go back to what I do know.  My soul feels quiet remembering her.

Celie B.  First Christmas, 2007

She made kazoo noises -for hours- at cousin Judd in the back of a rental van on a Florida freeway.  She was five months old and it was her first, and only, trip to the beach.  During that vacation, when she wasn't making kazoo noises, she was squealing with glee.

She crawled in a circle through the rooms on our main floor.  Both of our moms had told us, when we'd been searching for our first home, to look for place with a path for kids to traverse, and her rounds proved their advice sound.  The first time she crawled, I'd used Cheerios as motivation.  Andy left work early so he could witness her new development, and her going was slow enough that part of the trail still lay ahead by the time he got home. 

She learned to drink through a straw when we were at Circuit City shopping for a portable DVD player for a long car ride to Iowa.  She wasn't yet a year old and we wandered the store taking turns hunched over, her fingers gripping ours as she toddled and tasted.  It was a Planet Smoothie Screamsicle shake.  And she was in love at first sip.

She was, by turns, introverted and extroverted.  She played quietly, processed information, demonstrated restraint.  She was also energized by the world, hollering "hello" to strangers and waving wildly at cars and squirrels.
She was perfect.  Everything was perfect.  Until it wasn't.

I record these things because they come to mind.  They’re just simple memories.  But I don’t want to forget.
JEB