Secret Santa

Last year for Thanksgiving, my mom's whole family (8 siblings and 40 grandkids) came to AZ to spend it with us at my aunt's house. We have a tradition of everyone going around in a circle and saying at least one thing that they are grateful for. Try as I may to avoid this tradition that was fairly painful, all I could muster up was I was grateful for eternal families. Then I said, "That's all I got."

Not a great attitude.... I know. But what could I expect? I was only about 4 months from the most heartbreaking, on my knees, cry in my pillow, can't get out of bed in the morning tragedy of my life. I am not going to say those days, weeks, or months don't happen anymore, but I have found more to be grateful for.

I am grateful this year for my husband. For what we have learned these last 16 months (has it been that long?) for how we have grown, together and separately. Of course I would have really liked to have learned in other ways, but this was the best way my Father in Heaven sees fit to teach me.

The past few months I have had inner struggles, trying to find deep down who I am, where I belong, and how I can become better. After any big trial in our lives, we look to what we are supposed to learn, what we have learned, and how we can apply what we have learned. Recently I have been asking myself some really tough questions. I hope one day to have those questions answered. By myself and my Father in Heaven.

This past week we were up north with Doug's family, for Thanksgiving, weddings, showers, you name it, we did it in 4 days. It was a whirlwind of a trip, but well worth it. While I admit not initially having a good attitude about it, I am grateful that we were able to spend the holiday with the Kunz's. It has been a long time.

Secret Santa? you might wonder the title of my post :). HOLD on. It is coming. Mom came to pick us up from the airport today and when we arrived in our driveway, we came upon this:

I nearly started bawling my eyes out. I haven't made it to the cemetery in awhile and have felt a little guilty about it. I just don't know how I can go to the store and pick out flowers and items that will look "good" on my baby's grave. Who does that? How is that right?

And so I have avoided it altogether. But when I saw his pictures in the tree with the blue ornaments, I knew he was being thought of, that I was being thought of. To know that there are those of you who are still thinking of my precious little one all these months later. Well. There. Are. No. Words. But thank you. Thank you so much.

Attitude is Everything

I don't suppose that anyone has ever done something that they didn't want to do, but knew that they had to do. And if you did do that said something you didn't want to do, I bet you did it with grace and poise. And if you haven't ever had to do something you didn't want to do, you are one lucky peep!

I have had lessons on this very thing, past, present, and likely in the future.

For instance, every other weekend I go into work. I actually love what I do (newborn intensive care unit nurse), but sometimes it is very hard to leave my girlies, and other times it is EASY :). However, I must go to work so I may as well have a good attitude about it.

Have you ever had a grouchy attitude about doing something you weren't super duper excited about? How did that make you feel? What about the people around you? I bet it was miserable for all parties involved.

I have learned that attitude is everything. This life is the time for trials, doing things we don't want to do, and learning from them. We can either have a good attitude about it and get on with it OR we can have a grouchy attitude and be miserable while making all those around us miserable.

Hopefully I can someday be able to have a good attitude about all the things I don't want to do.... until then :)!

Why do people call you?

Today I took a CPR class. This is what I do. I take CPR. I give CPR. At work.

Not daily, but occasionally.

Actually the last time I did the actual chest compressions and breaths it was a 60 year old man who went down in the elevator at work from a heart attack. He didn't make it. You know what I thought? I thought it was cool I got to do CPR. And why am I admitting this? Not sure.

I don't think it is cool anymore to give CPR. There is nothing cool about it. Nothing. Did you hear about the 11 months old the television fell on and she died? That. Was. Not. Cool. I gave that family a Daxton Box. It was awful. Really awful. Really. Really. Awful. Actually I didn't personally give it to the family. Too hard. But I gave it to the nurse with specific instructions on how to use it.

This is my trigger.

On my way home from my CPR class, my friend called me to tell me that she heard her baby's heartbeat. The little energy sucking embryo has a heart beat. I cried with her. See my friend has had 3 miscarriages, each one happening longer and longer into gestation. And she just picks herself up and moves on. With 3 boys, what are the options anyway :)?

She has a friend giving a talk in church who called her up and asked her, "Why do people call you?" I thought this an odd topic or question, but she explained the talk was on friends, why we have them, how they help us, what we have to offer them.... etc.

Got me to thinking.

After Daxton died, there were very few people I would call or talk to. Actually only one or two. You see when you lose a child, very few people you know have been through the same tragedy (and thank goodness) and they don't relate very well. But they try. And I am grateful.

With this particular friend, I would text her. When I couldn't muster up the energy I asked her to do things for me.

Now she lives 2.5 hours away, so these were "vicarious" acts. But she would do things like get out of bed for me, play with her kids for me, go get a diet coke and drink it for me, eat a bowl of ice cream with brownies for me, make cookies for me which were delivered via a sister in law, I actually was able to really eat them :), but most importantly, she would kiss her baby for me. She would hold him for me. She would love on him for me. She would dote on him for me.

These small acts were "code" for I am having a crappy day. HELP. For instance, if I was having a cryamony, I would text her "I need two diet cokes and please kiss Brooks for me" and she would know. And I would know. That somewhere she was doing something to think of me. To think of my little boy. And likely crying with me.

So in answer to her friend's question. THAT is why I call her. THAT is why I call my Annie.