Here I sit.
The end of my first year without you.
The beginning of the second.

A year ago, I couldn’t imagine what a year without you would be like…what it would feel like, look like…what it would be.
I couldn’t even imagine a minute of my world without you in it.

Three hundred sixty five days.
Four seasons.
Three broken hearts in one small house.

I’ve not
heard your voice
smelled your cologne
washed your laundry
given you a kiss
or a hug
prepared your beloved maple and brown sugar oatmeal
made your bed, with the pillows just the right way
read the Sports section to you
argued with you about getting out of bed
felt the pounding of your heart against my head as I lay it on your chest
felt you gaze at me across the room

We’re mending, but never to be fully fixed.
I am proud of us, how far we’ve come.
You gave that gift to us; you made me (and the girls, too) stronger than I ever knew possible.

I’ve done my best and I’m certain you know that.
I will always keep my promises to you.

I love the little moments in my daily life where I can remember our life without tears falling down my cheeks.
I actually laugh more than I cry; which is a critical shift I’ve been waiting for.
The memories and joy outweighing the pain.
It’s taken a while to get here.
I’m grateful.
And I’m relieved this year is over.

The girls are doing well.
They don’t know the significance of today.
And I am not going to tell them.
When they get older, they will remember the date all by themselves.
I owe them one year; at least one “anniversary” that I didn’t bring it to their attention.

They have been doing so well; I don’t want to drag them back down, even briefly.
Carys is actually making some serious progress lately; I am so proud.
Cailyn is headstrong (thanks for that, by the way), but she is also such a sweetheart.
They miss you and talk about you almost daily now; without tears. Happy memories from before IT was a word in our vocabulary.

There were so many things I planned to say to you today.
You already know.
You let me have plenty of time to say it.
Thank you; for being you, for letting me be me, for giving me these beautiful little girls, for helping me find my own confidence and strength and perseverance.

I miss you.
Still.
Forever.

xoxo,
Skye

Yesterday, I received a card in the mail from the funeral home that handled Chad’s arrangements.
A “Thinking of You” card to express their sympathy as we approach the one-year mark.
I was sucker punched.
I didn’t need a reminder.

I have 8 more days.
8 more days to feel a little normal.
“Normal?”
Almost, but not quite.

8 more days until.
It’s been almost a year.
Almost, but not quite.

I’m fine.
I’m fine.
I’m fine.
Almost, but not quite.

They tell me this milestone is the hardest.
No.
I have to disagree.
The first day was the hardest.
And then every day after.
They say, “It gets easier with each passing day.”
Almost, but not quite.

It seems I live a double life most days.
One life where I’m on a ever-healing journey.
One life where I’m almost content with myself.
Almost, but not quite.

I’ve made it.
I’ve survived.
A whole year.

Almost.
But not quite.

Here, there and everywhere.

I’ll try to catch you up as quickly as possible…

I have taken on way too much with far too little time.
I won’t be here much.

School x 3 in this house is quite tricky.
I am on an indefinite hiatus from photography.
I still love it. I just can’t give it my full attention and that’s not fair to anyone.

As for the blog, I have grown tired of my own words.
I need to start focusing on the future instead of drowning in the past.

I plan to keep the blog here for a while; at least until I decide what to do with it.
My only goal is to preserve it for the girls, and once I get that under control, I may let the domain lapse.

I am doing well; fabulous, actually.
Finally.
I know who I am.
I know what I want.
And I’m going to get it.

The girls are also doing well – growing and learning and amazing me every day.
Carys just started the 2nd grade. She loved it.
Cailyn starts kindergarten in two weeks.

I kicked my coffee habit over the Summer.
Then it came back this week.

We’re in the process of rehoming two of our three dogs.
I just cannot do it all.
The superwoman cape is going to be hung up for a while.
I’m doing what I need to do, focusing on the girls and finding my new happy.

Thanks for the support, y’all.
I couldn’t have done it without you.

xoxo,
Skye

This year is full of dates that I try so hard to ignore. Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries…
Even though I try to busy myself around dates that were, and still are, important to Chad and I, memories get the best of me.
It usually begins with tears – and ends with laughter, which is the way I prefer it.

Tears for the hard, sad truth that things will never be the same.
Laughter for the memories that will forever bring joy to my heart.

Today, Chad & I would have celebrated ten years of marriage.
The date is still circled on my calendar.

Last year, despite his difficulty communicating, he wanted to take me out to dinner.
(I put together a small slideshow of our life for our anniversary last year – you can view it by clicking here.)
I cherish that last date – and the fact that he insisted we go as a family to the very place where he asked me to be his wife.
It was the last time we went out as a family before he was moved to Hospice on August 17, 2010.

My heart is flooded with memories of our wedding day; how happy and young and hopeful we were.
No children yet, no mortgage, no joint checking accounts.
No pain or fear or regret.
Just love and hope.

There are so many things I want to say, but today, I am keeping it to myself.

Thank you for the well wishes and kind words today.
I do appreciate them immensely.

The girls and I are having a good day.
We have dinner reservations at our special place, just the three of us.
We’re skipping the traditional menu and opting for dessert only.

After all, life is too sweet to eat dessert last.
I plan to savor every tiny bite.

–

This morning, the girls and I sent Chad some more red balloons.
In honor of Father’s Day, the girls made a card – which they sealed with a kiss and stuffed inside of one of the balloons.
Then Carys found another card she had made at school that she wanted to include.
My original plan was to send one balloon up this morning, but the cards weighed the lonely balloon down and it wouldn’t float — so we inflated a few more. Since the first balloon was so full of love (and paper), it needed a few chaperones to make sure it went upward. SO we changed plans…pretty typical for us nowadays.
The girls drew pictures and wrote lovely messages on the balloons; I wrote a simple note.

Cailyn drew chocolate chip cookies on her card; she wanted to make sure Chad knew she remembered his favorite things.
Carys picked some flowers yesterday from Chad’s mom’s house – and wanted to make sure Chad knew she picked them just for him. His favorites – that he used to pick for his mother, too.

The girls were very excited to do this today. They didn’t even take time to get dressed – they got right to work this morning.
All of us, in our pajamas, stood in the front yard and sent our Father’s Day wishes to Chad. Then the girls released the four balloons…and watched them disappear into the sky.
The girls stood there for a bit, even when the balloons were no longer visible, just in case the red vessels came back into their sight.

After our balloon release, the girls and I got dressed (finally) and grabbed some lunch.
Then, we dropped Carys off at camp. For a week! EEEEEEkkkkkkkk!
I cannot believe she is old enough to do this – or to want to do this – without Mommy there.
She was so excited, but a little nervous as we pulled into the camp area and she saw how many people were there.

We unpacked and got her all set up.
And then I learned that my baby is not a baby anymore.
Which I knew.
But it helps my mommy*heart to think she still needs me more than she actually does.

She wouldn’t allow me to kiss or hug her “in public” because I was embarrassing her.
I really thought I had a few more years before she started complaining about her embarrassing mommy…but, no. That day came too early for my taste.

I hope she has a fabulous time – which I know she will.
She has a friend from her Girl Scout Troop that is sleeping right next to her each night.

I can’t wait to hear about all the fun times and memories she’ll make this week.
And it will feel kinda strange not having her around this week.
Cailyn will see what it feels like to be an only child for once in her life…and I suspect she will start missing her sister fiercely after day three.

You are my baby, the littlest Lanford Lady. You are my last baby. And I feel like you have that all figured out…already.
Sometimes, I wonder how you so often get your way…but I know I give in far too often than I should.
Those eyes…those dimples…I have to find some sort of antidote for their charms before you turn sixteen and ask me for a car I know you don’t need…

As I was putting together your birthday video, it hit me that this is the last birthday that you will have any pictures of yourself with Daddy from the last year. I know how challenging the last year has been for you and how very much you miss your Daddy.

It also hit me that you’ve changed so much in the last year. Emotionally; yes. And physically? Oh, yes.
This time last year, you still looked like a toddler.
Now, today, you look like a little lady.

You woke up on your birthday, feeling a bit wiser, a bit taller and a bit more confident than you did the night before.
That’s the magic of being five…a world of possibility that seems to be born overnight.

You are a perfectly equal mix of your Daddy and I; a detail-oriented planner, a shopping lover, a perfectionist, a daydreamer, a steadfast friend and a social butterfly.
You are very verbal about your emotions, which you clearly got from me; and you’re very thoughtful with your reactions, which you clearly got from him.

The rest of your personality is all YOU.
You were uniquely wired from birth to require more glitter, more sparkle and more sequins than should be humanly possible.
I hope you always keep your fashion sense…even though I’m sure I foresee a few fights arguments conversations in our future about your wardrobe selections as you pass into the teenage years. Thankfully, I have a few years to worry about that dilemma.

You have asked hard questions this year; questions that are hard for adults to wrap their head around…but you ask with a naturally inquisitive and pure heart. You make my heart swell with pride and unbelievable admiration when you remind us to be thankful for the beautiful life God has given us. I know, without a doubt, that I am shaping your future the way I should be; and I am grateful that your joyful spirit allows me to have such certainty.

Welcome to the fabulous year of FIVE.
A magical time that you will never forget, a time I hope you will always remember as the year all your dreams came true.

I love you.

High as the sky,
Deep as the ocean.

xoxo,
Mommy

The immediate weeks after his death, I could barely look my girls in their sparkling ocean eyes without sobbing.
They remind me so much of him.
The sorrow was all-encompassing: all the things that he will miss, all the times they will wish he was here to offer advice or a hug or refuge from their overwhelmed mother.

Now, however…I dare to see past the period of pain, doubt, tears.

I see strong little spirits; on the perpetual cusp of understanding who they are meant to be.
I see little wildflowers; yielding to the rain and looking forward to their time to blossom in the sun.
I see daring little dreamers; not yet knowing that reality and dreams can be thoughtfully entwined.
I see bright little stars; lighting up my darkness with a special flair that is their own.

In the last few days, I have been hit with an onslaught of emotions with Father’s Day quickly approaching.
The commercials.
The greeting card aisles.
The recordable voice books meant to hold precious memories.
The television shows centered around weddings and watching proud fathers walk their glowing daughters down the aisle.

I have been angry.
I have been sad.
I have been weary.
I have been worried and anxious and nervous about what the upcoming day will mean for the girls.

Cailyn unexpectedly announces how much she misses him; in line at the grocery store, while in the bath tub, while at dinner.
She likes to talk about him; she likes to remember the smiles and hugs and the special whistle he let out when ever she dressed up.
She asked me if we could send Daddy a Father’s Day card to Heaven, and I will make that happen. There is a helium tank and many, many bright red balloons tucked in my hall closet for this reason alone — to send a love note whenever they feel the need.

Carys has been making Father’s Day cards for Chad at school this week.
Each day, I check her backpack and find a crisply folded piece of paper, neatly decorated with two stick figures impeccably dressed in Crayola’s finest. A girl and a man, beaming and standing under a tree and smiling sunshine. She’s always wearing pink; he’s always wearing his Wolfpack red. And she always pens, “I love you Daddy.”

My heart hurts for her on a daily basis.
I wonder what she must feel when kids at school talk about their weekends with their families, their moms and their dads.
I wonder if she refuses to talk about it because she’s afraid to cry.
I wonder if she thinks the rest of her life will be so full of hurt and sadness and an empty feeling that no one will ever truly understand.

And then an epiphany.
A thought that I’d thought so many times before, but never quite got.

I am, of course, immensely saddened for my girls.
I cry for them more than they will ever know.
It is true. The most respected, loved and heroic person in their life is no longer here.
There isn’t a physical father in this family of ours.

They do have an outstanding, loving and supportive network of men in their lives that I know are committed to helping these precious girls find their way.
They have a great-grandfather – and they will, many years from now, be aware of how lucky they are to have a relationship with their great grandfather.
They have two grandpas, who spoil the girls rotten and return them to me as the sugar high wears off…which is the way it’s supposed to be.
They have many, many uncles that love my girls as their own; taking turns giving pony rides on their knees or sight-seeing adventures from atop their broad shoulders.
They have cousins who play duck-duck-goose and tic-tac-toe and whatever else their heart desires.
They have the admiration of our male friends, who listen to (and joyfully laugh at) made-up knock-knock jokes and play Barbie or try to teach them karate without my prior knowledge…

We have been blessed in so many ways.
And I cannot continue to weep for my “fatherless” daughters as I have been.
There will always be a part of me that cannot hold back tears when I think about traditional father-daughter moments.
They had an amazing, loving and inspiring father who can never be replaced.
And now the Little Lanford Ladies need (and have) many strong male figures in their life to help fill the void I never will be able to.
I understand it’s not quite the same as having a father. But it certainly helps.
And I’m certainly thankful for each of you who take the time to make them feel special and loved.

On Sunday, we went to S’s party – one of Cailyn’s preschool friends.
I dressed the girls all matchy-matchy because I felt like exerting my motherly authority of “BECAUSE I SAID SO!” when they asked me why they had to be twins for the day.
They were so cute that I had to do an impromptu photoshoot after the party. Cailyn needed her 5-year portraits done anyway…

Enjoy the pics
More to come later this week during Cailyn’s birthday video!

Earlier in the week, she asked me why I wouldn’t let her go to Hospice the day Chad died.
I explained that it was a very long day and it was very sad for everyone…and that she was much too young to be there.
That response wasn’t quite satisfactory to her, so I added that she could see a picture I took when she is MUCH older.

Yes, I took a picture…for this very reason. I knew, one day long from now, the girls might want to see or better understand what occurred on November 10, 2010. I would have wanted to know if it were me. They may never ask about it again, but I couldn’t imagine anything worse than not having something to show them if they needed to have an image for closure and I had nothing to offer. I would never share it with them until they were well into their teens or even later.

“Well…what did he look like when he died?”

I further explained that he looked just like he did the last time she saw him, a few days before he passed away.
I also added that he looked very peaceful and calm, that he wasn’t frightened, scared or nervous.

“What happened to his body?”
“How did he go to Heaven without his body?”

I knew this was coming, as I had only offered minimal information about cremation. I didn’t want to scare her.
She knows that Daddy’s body wasn’t buried and that his soul went to Heaven.
She also knows that we have his ashes and we disperse them in specific places that he would want to be. And she knows he didn’t need a body anymore because he got a new one as soon as he passed away.
She gets all of that.
Or, at least, as much as a child her age can get it…

Today, while riding home from running errands, she asks a few more questions:

“So, when you die, do you just wait around for a few days for Jesus to come get you?”

I almost chuckled, but I stopped myself because she was being very serious.
I also had an instant vision of Cailyn packing her pink Hello Kitty luggage with glitter and Twinkies, waiting for Jesus to come pick her up in a convertible – because I’m sure this is what she was thinking…

I kept it brief, and just let her know that Jesus takes your soul to Heaven the very second you die.
Your last breath one Earth is your first breath in Heaven, and that everyone you love (that’s in Heaven already) is there waiting for you.
She said “Oh…okay” and that was it. She went back to watching a movie in the back seat.
It was quiet for a while.

Then….

“Mommy, what’s a soul?”

I have a few age-appropriate responses that I’ve cataloged in the back of my mind; an arsenal of toddler theology.
We’ve approached this subject before, so I was pretty quick to remember my last little speech.

A soul is the invisible part of you – the part that makes you who you are. It the part that makes you lovable, loving, funny, caring and so very different from everyone else in this world. It’s the part deep inside your heart that tells you right from wrong; the parts of your brain and heart that hold your memories and your attitude; the part of you that makes other people know what kind of person you are.
Your soul goes to Heaven, your body does not. When you get to Heaven, you get a new body that is perfect and will never get sick; you just don’t need your old body anymore.

I could see her sweet little face, twisted in confusion.

“Does that make sense, Cailyn? I know it can be hard to understand. Lots of grown ups don’t understand. You don’t have to understand it right now, but one day you will.”

“Mommy, I know what that kind of soul is. I wanted to know what the bottom of my shoe was made out of.”

Oh.
Right.
Silly me for thinking we were still continuing a conversation from minutes earlier.

I did let out a chuckle, then.
I am the Queen of Over Thinking.
But then again, you can understand my confusion of soul vs. sole given our previous conversation.

That child never surprises me.
She keeps me on my toes and she never stops asking questions.
She’s going to be an outstanding lawyer one day…and channel Reese Witherspoon in Legally Blonde.

There are only a few more days of school for Carys.
I can’t believe this school year is nearly over and I will soon have a second grader and a kindergartner!
She had an awards ceremony at school today and racked up awards for great grades, great behavior and being a reading super star.

Cailyn graduated from preschool last week. She was so proud of herself!

I will be officially enrolled in college courses by the end of this week.

June is going to be a whirlwind of crazy…but it should also be very fun and rewarding.
Cailyn is turning FIVE. (more on that very soon!)
We’ll be celebrating the end of school/Cailyn’s birthday with some time at the beach.
I’m shooting a wedding – very excited about that because I’ve been on a break for WAY too long. My camera misses being in action…
Carys will go to Girl Scout camp for a week all by herself. I can’t believe she is old enough to do that…
We will be camping at the Outer Banks with my extended family for about a week at the end of the month. No DVR – but lots of fun with family should be well worth the HOT adventure!
My best friend’s baby is due on Father’s Day — and I will be flying to NY to meet her precious angel and take her first pictures, as well as take bridal portraits for our cousin-to-be who is marrying in August.

In between all of that, I was supposed to squeeze in a 6-week course I need for school.
But I just can’t make it happen…so that will be postponed or taken at a different location in July or August.
Crazy, I tell you!

Anyway – here are some pictures from the last week or so.
And yes, I chopped off Cailyn’s hair because I was a little too tired of the tangles each morning.
And while I was at it, I chopped mine off too. Not because of tangles – but because it’s HOT here in NC…