Six Months

Six months ago today we lost our little girl. She was the light in our lives, the adhesive that made our marriage stronger (and helped it to stay strong), and someone we so badly wanted to meet. She was beautiful, perfect, and wonderful. She made us so happy. When she died our lives fell. But we held strong. Our hearts broke. But our world didn't. Today driving home from work I was listening to my "peaceful tunes" playlist on the iPod, and the Chris Rice version of the hymn "It is Well with My Soul" came on (words written by Horatio G. Spafford in 1873). I teared up in traffic (dangerous, I know). It's such a beautiful song, and really is restoring to the heart and mind.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Refrain:
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

Refrain

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

Refrain

Honestly, it's still hard to look forward, even six months later. It's hard to have peace in the midst of such tragedy. Jim and I are looking to the future and hoping for good things. We are still hurting for our little girl. We still cry together, we still miss her, we still get hit as if by a meteor sometimes with the sheer grief we feel. We both walk by her photo in our living room and look longingly at her little face. I pull the her photo out of the book in my purse more times a day than I count so I can glance upon her sweet face. Jim has a picture of her next to his computer monitor so he can see her when he's at his desk (which is most of each day). I blow kisses to her each night when I turn out the light in the curio cabinet that holds her photo and her urn. A million times a day I kiss the angel pendant around my neck that holds a bit of Angel's ashes. I find it hard to sleep some nights just thinking about her. Sometimes I wake up from nightmares, reliving the night I was in labor and the morning she died. It's still hard. And we don't expect it to be easy anytime soon. But we look forward, we search for peace, and we have faith in our God that things will get better, if not easier, in the future.

I thank you for your prayers, happy thoughts, and sweet messages via e-mail and on Facebook. Thanks for thinking of us on this day and on so many others.

Love and hugs,
Tara