Some girls are just born with glitter in their veins


Let me start of with a very wide spread thank you. The response to my project violet post…it gave me such a boost tonight.

So I need to say thank you.For the meals and snacks. For the messages of love and support. For the family coming to help with the kids or just sit. To my mom for writing her “damn obituary ” For the friend who has pretty much become a permanent fixture in our home. To the friend helping us plan and the one creating the video. To all the people holding fundraisers and donating to our family…allowing us to plan for her and take care of our boys in this pressure cooker without financial worry.  To those sharing and reading our story. It helps….And really too much thanks to possibly contain in one posting. .

We are ONLY able to get through each day with all of the help we are getting. Both seen and unseen. We thank you. Just like I know many of you wish there were stronger words than “I’m sorry” to express your feelings of sadness for us….we wish there were stronger words than thank you to express our gratitude.

striking a pose

striking a pose

I think I might be in shock.

I don’t really cry. . but I ache and hurt.

And I don’t really sleep. I am tired. So tired. But I don’t really sleep.

I am in control of my environment. Of who comes in…or doesn’t. And I haven’t left the house in over 3 weeks. I usually am the kind of person who went out at least once a day.

I do not want this to be like every other struggle in my life. I don’t want to just keep going and powering through it.  I want to feel this and sink into it. So that I can rise above it.

I had a good talk with the mom whose son went to school with Jennifer and had a daughter who had passed away. I am *lucky* to have her. She helps. So fair warning if you think the video montage at Jennifer’s service is too long blame her!

We narrowed down her urn to two choices. Tony will go to the funeral home tomorrow and they will come to a final decision Ugh I hate cremation. I mean I really don’t like it. But it makes sense. We might want to move one day and I cannot leave her. With cremation we can bury her but still take her with us if we ever move.

We also narrowed it down to two dress choices. Her dress choice is hard. I want it to be the right one. Right one?? How the hell is there a right one for the dress we bury our daughter in?I don’t want to regret losing one of her favorite dresses…but I don’t want to hold onto one for Charlotte to maybe want to wear one day. Thats a lot of pressure for her.

Charlotte  just started crawling…really in earnest. And today it seemed like she said mama in context. I told Tony. But it wasn’t the same. He isn’t the one I should be telling. Jennifer is always the first to know. The only one other than me that really cares about all the silly things and firsts of the other kids.

Jonathan is really struggling. His eyes burn with tears when we talk about her. But he doesn’t understand whats physically happening to him. A 4yr old isn’t equipped to deal with grief….but his body doesn’t know that so its forcing it upon him.

He called for me after we put him to bed. He misses her. I let him go to her room to get any stuffed animal he wanted (I

charlotte and pinkie

charlotte and pinkie

have already claimed her beloved pinkie).

I was so nervous he would ask me to go into her room with him. I don’t know what I would have done. Right after she died when I tried to go to the car and had my huge melt down I came in and into her room and didn’t want to leave….now I cant even look into her room. Its all so surprising. Nothing is going as I expected….at all. I am usually pretty good at knowing how things will go especially in the emotional realm. This time I am lost.

He chose Dumbo. We had just gotten it at DisneyWorld. Her make a wish trip…just a month ago. He said he remembered when she got it.

He called for us again later. Tony said he sniffled into her Dumbo and held onto it.

Tony and I both cried in front of the kids today. Tonight I just held Jonathan as he started to get into his angry cycle he has battled before brain tumor entered our vocabulary. I held him and we talked about what was bothering him. . . I told him how I missed her too. How tears can come and laughs can come…

I know I am saying all the right things…too bad I can’t force myself to take my own advice. . .or even really believe it.

I couldn’t save her from cancer and I cant protect him from grief.