Sometimes I wonder if I have some strange fascination with death.
Weird, I know.
It feels like I've been up close and personal with death too many times..... it's a time that forces you to reflect on LIFE.
I was with 3 of the most important people in my life when they died. My daughter, my grandmother and my grandfather.......maybe even a little more strange, I was on the phone with my aunt when she was in the hospital room with my other grandfather began having trouble and died unexpectedly after a hip operation.
Death.
It's kind of why this whole blog was started.
A journey of life, death, love.
Death
It's a stinging word.
Death
It's inevitable for every single one of us.
My "Pop" died and I thought the world would end. On that day, I watched the strongest man I knew slip away from this life while my grandmoma fought as hard as she could to make him stay. I thought she would crumble. I thought the farm would end. I thought we wouldn't have someone to always make sure everything was gonna be alright and teach us all about the things we didn't know.
My daughter died. I can't even begin to explain that to you. It just doesn't follow the natural order of life. It makes you QUESTION everything you know to be true and HOLD ON to all you know to be true at the same time. On that day, I watched her slip away - but was at peace knowing she didn't have to suffer any more.
My Grandmoma died. On that day, life turned upside down. Watching her fade away was like watching my lifeline float away. She kept our family together and always made everything ok. She defied all odds. She lived by herself, took care of herself......did all the things people her age 'shouldn't' be able to do. She was the kindest, most giving human being you could ever meet. Even in the waiting room at the hospital, my daddy and I were making plans on who would move in with her and help take care of her - just as we had done so many times before.....yet, this time....this time, she didn't need us any more....she wouldn't be coming back home...not to her physical home.....
My Grandaddy died in a hospital in Augusta while I was in a hospital in Charleston with my daughter. I barely made it to his funeral. She was fighting for her life while he lost his. I wondered how my grandmoma would go on............
Death....
It's a frightening dark thing.
....but it doesn't have to be like that....
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy.
That's what death does to the ones left behind.
Satan comes to destroy....to make us question the things we know.....to make the mourning seem so painful some days that we can't understand how we will possibly ever move on....
Christ came that we may have life and have it abundantly.
As humans, we don't always grasp this....
It's easy to fall in to the why me trap.....the nothing ever goes right....everybody has it better....why can't I have it my way trap.....
We don't understand it, but the good thing is......we don't have to.
We just have to have faith.
A journey of life, death, love.....
Thursday, August 15, 2019
I’m processing
It takes me a while to process things.
People may take my ‘quietness’ as shyness, naivety, or disinterest.
....but really I’m just taking it all in....
I’m processing.
Stevie and I went for a walk today. I noticed my daddy’s labored breathing just before we left. This isn’t a huge alarm. It seems to happen frequently. He has a bad heart. He tries to play it off as congestion.
Stevie and I went for a walk.
We were almost back home. My daddy met us in the road. He basically stopped in the road while traffic was stopping behind him. We tried to motion him on.
He didn’t listen.
He stopped.
Then I realized he could hardly breathe.
Panic set in.
My outside remained calm, but I moved quickly.
We debated driving to the hospital or the fire department just a few blocks away.
The fire department won.
They called for an ambulance.
Not the first time this has happened.
Just the tachycardia.
They’ll fix it. They always do.
Helicopter called. This isn’t normal. It’s not ok. This isn’t what usually happens. My daddy can’t die. My Grandmoma died just a few weeks ago.
Two of the most important people in my life.
This is not ok.
My body remains calm. They’ll fix it. They always do.
Helicopter called off. Ambulance en route to MUSC.
He’s ok.
They fixed it. They always do.
....but what happens when they can’t.
I’m trying to process that....and I really can’t.
....but today....they fixed it....and for that I’m grateful.
*Edit - This was written in the spring while we were at the beach, but I'm just now posting.
People may take my ‘quietness’ as shyness, naivety, or disinterest.
....but really I’m just taking it all in....
I’m processing.
Stevie and I went for a walk today. I noticed my daddy’s labored breathing just before we left. This isn’t a huge alarm. It seems to happen frequently. He has a bad heart. He tries to play it off as congestion.
Stevie and I went for a walk.
We were almost back home. My daddy met us in the road. He basically stopped in the road while traffic was stopping behind him. We tried to motion him on.
He didn’t listen.
He stopped.
Then I realized he could hardly breathe.
Panic set in.
My outside remained calm, but I moved quickly.
We debated driving to the hospital or the fire department just a few blocks away.
The fire department won.
They called for an ambulance.
Not the first time this has happened.
Just the tachycardia.
They’ll fix it. They always do.
Helicopter called. This isn’t normal. It’s not ok. This isn’t what usually happens. My daddy can’t die. My Grandmoma died just a few weeks ago.
Two of the most important people in my life.
This is not ok.
My body remains calm. They’ll fix it. They always do.
Helicopter called off. Ambulance en route to MUSC.
He’s ok.
They fixed it. They always do.
....but what happens when they can’t.
I’m trying to process that....and I really can’t.
....but today....they fixed it....and for that I’m grateful.
*Edit - This was written in the spring while we were at the beach, but I'm just now posting.
Wednesday, April 3, 2019
The Aftermath
Six years....6 years. That really doesn’t sound like a long time....but....SIX YEARS.
Six years since I last held my baby girl....six years since I felt like I lost my identity....six years since I first looked in the faces of my sweet little boys and wondered if we made all the right choices.....six years since our family had to learn a new normal....again....
9 years since we adjusted to the new normal of life with a brand new baby....a baby with more profound medical needs than we (and most people) could ever imagine. A soul that taught me more about life than I knew in all the years I lived on earth.
...and then....
Three years....3 years of knowing God in the most intimate sense. Three years of accepting challenges and change. Three years of witnessing more miracles than we could ever imagine.
So much changed.
So much.
Six years. In six years I was closer to God than ever in my life....in six years I also made some of the biggest mistakes of my life....in six years I was loved. I was determined. I was faithful.
In six years I was also lost, isolated, selfish, and angry.
Six years.....or maybe 9. Who knows?
Our family's life has three eras- life before Zeta, life after Zeta, and life after we began to figure out how to pick up the pieces.....
I’ve missed writing. I’ve missed speaking. I’ve missed noticing all the infinite glory that surrounds us in the small things....oh how powerful the last few weeks of remembering 6 years (or 9) have been.
Six years since I last held my baby girl....six years since I felt like I lost my identity....six years since I first looked in the faces of my sweet little boys and wondered if we made all the right choices.....six years since our family had to learn a new normal....again....
9 years since we adjusted to the new normal of life with a brand new baby....a baby with more profound medical needs than we (and most people) could ever imagine. A soul that taught me more about life than I knew in all the years I lived on earth.
...and then....
Three years....3 years of knowing God in the most intimate sense. Three years of accepting challenges and change. Three years of witnessing more miracles than we could ever imagine.
So much changed.
So much.
Six years. In six years I was closer to God than ever in my life....in six years I also made some of the biggest mistakes of my life....in six years I was loved. I was determined. I was faithful.
In six years I was also lost, isolated, selfish, and angry.
Six years.....or maybe 9. Who knows?
Our family's life has three eras- life before Zeta, life after Zeta, and life after we began to figure out how to pick up the pieces.....
I’ve missed writing. I’ve missed speaking. I’ve missed noticing all the infinite glory that surrounds us in the small things....oh how powerful the last few weeks of remembering 6 years (or 9) have been.
Tuesday, February 26, 2019
So....I’m a sentimental, sappy person. In the grand scheme of life, today was just another day that a 93 year old lady was buried....and the past few days were just a type of every day grief we all experience at some time in our life.....but to me (and I think I’m ok to say - also to our entire family) it felt like pieces of the world crumbled around us...like nothing else mattered....trying to figure out what happens next......When the center of your family is suddenly gone, well...what happens then? I’ll tell you what happens...you fight with everything you have to hold on... you comfort each other...and swallow your pride. You come together with those you haven’t seen in a while....and you put aside differences in order to pay respect to the one that taught you most about life...the one that was half of the beginning of generations. You just do.....what I want for myself is to work harder to be like the example she set for us....the Proverbs 31 woman.....just like Brian preached in her service today......
My grandmother has been my role model since ...well, since forever. I always wanted to be just like her. I wanted to cook huge meals and make delicious cakes (neither of which I do, by the way)....I wanted to go to fancy parties and serve on all kind of committees just like she did (don’t do much of that either)....I wanted lady friends who loved me fiercely (I have a couple)....and I wanted a husband that worshipped the ground I walked on (I did pretty good there). I wanted lots of clothes and shoes just like her (don’t think I have all that, but Stevie might disagree 😜).....I wanted lots of little people to love me...and I wanted to make them pancakes and let them eat a whole bowl of cake batter- just like her.....I wanted to sit at the table and read my Bible or study my lesson- just like her....there are so many things I could say that made me want to be just like her. There are sooo many reasons and sooo many memories. There was never a time she wasn’t a part of my life. I lived across the street from her almost my entire 40 plus years of life. She was a part of every ‘big’ event in my life and most small ones too.
However, the thing that keeps running over and over most in my mind is how she was there for me at two of the most trying times in my life- first when my daddy was hospitalized after a near fatal wreck that almost cost him his life- my sister and I ‘lived’ with her while my mom lived in the hospital with my daddy....and second- how she was there for me with Zeta.....she loved that baby with all of her might. Zeta was a pretty intimidating kid....I mean with all the monitors and machines and beeps and stuff....but....let me tell you, my Grandmoma came to my house on a daily basis when we weren’t in the hospital. She held Zeta....she talked to her...she wasn’t scared of her at all. My 80 ‘something’ year old grandmother was one of the greatest reasons I could hold strong each day....she rode with us to most every doctor and therapy appointment before we got a nurse and she even had the regrettable experience of going to the emergency room with us once.....it was after that I decided I would do all I could to make sure she never had to go to the er with us again.....long story short, I walked around a corner while we were waiting to be admitted to the hospital and I caught my sweet Grandmoma crying....eyes closed and face toward heaven ......begging for mercy for my child......it absolutely broke her to see my baby like that......Grandmoma would bring us a meal or some type of food almost every night. She would call a few times a day and sit with us for hours on end. She was my reminder not only that someone else loved my baby as fiercely as I did, but also that I had someone who loved ME ...AND my whole family like almost no one else but Jesus could.
I’m not the only person in my huge family that can tell you stories about how special our Grandmoma was...or about all the things she did....that’s what made her seem like a super hero. She could be every where, save everybody, love everybody, and still cook a 4 course meal and keep her house spotless by the end of the day.
I can only imagine the things she experienced throughout her life...I mean with all the children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren she had to worry about....thing is, there was never a sense of uneasiness around her...and you never felt a sense of disapproval...it’s weird, but the love she had just wanted to make you a better person...she didn’t have a need to share disapproval because you just had this innate desire to do what was right when you were around her...it’s the closest real life image of how I picture being in the presence of God....and let me tell you, if being in the presence of my grandmother is even a trillionth of a percent of what it’s like to be in Heaven then I want to go now!
There’s no doubt where Grandmoma is now- seeing so many people she’s missed. I can guarantee Pop and Uncle Robbie were the two she was most excited to see. After Uncle Robbie died she would often say to me, “you know what it’s like...there’s nothing like losing a child.” I would always reply,”No, Grandmoma, I don’t. You had him 70plus years. I had Zeta for 3.” I truly can’t imagine what that did to her heart and soul. What I do know is that he knew he had a moma who loved him, regardless of any shortcomings....just like I know my moma and Uncle Baynard know they had a moma who would (and somehow probably did) walk water for them.....just like I had a Grandmoma who loved me and made me feel like the most important person in the world....but somehow also made everyone else around her feel just like that too! Gosh, I miss her! ❤️
My grandmother has been my role model since ...well, since forever. I always wanted to be just like her. I wanted to cook huge meals and make delicious cakes (neither of which I do, by the way)....I wanted to go to fancy parties and serve on all kind of committees just like she did (don’t do much of that either)....I wanted lady friends who loved me fiercely (I have a couple)....and I wanted a husband that worshipped the ground I walked on (I did pretty good there). I wanted lots of clothes and shoes just like her (don’t think I have all that, but Stevie might disagree 😜).....I wanted lots of little people to love me...and I wanted to make them pancakes and let them eat a whole bowl of cake batter- just like her.....I wanted to sit at the table and read my Bible or study my lesson- just like her....there are so many things I could say that made me want to be just like her. There are sooo many reasons and sooo many memories. There was never a time she wasn’t a part of my life. I lived across the street from her almost my entire 40 plus years of life. She was a part of every ‘big’ event in my life and most small ones too.
However, the thing that keeps running over and over most in my mind is how she was there for me at two of the most trying times in my life- first when my daddy was hospitalized after a near fatal wreck that almost cost him his life- my sister and I ‘lived’ with her while my mom lived in the hospital with my daddy....and second- how she was there for me with Zeta.....she loved that baby with all of her might. Zeta was a pretty intimidating kid....I mean with all the monitors and machines and beeps and stuff....but....let me tell you, my Grandmoma came to my house on a daily basis when we weren’t in the hospital. She held Zeta....she talked to her...she wasn’t scared of her at all. My 80 ‘something’ year old grandmother was one of the greatest reasons I could hold strong each day....she rode with us to most every doctor and therapy appointment before we got a nurse and she even had the regrettable experience of going to the emergency room with us once.....it was after that I decided I would do all I could to make sure she never had to go to the er with us again.....long story short, I walked around a corner while we were waiting to be admitted to the hospital and I caught my sweet Grandmoma crying....eyes closed and face toward heaven ......begging for mercy for my child......it absolutely broke her to see my baby like that......Grandmoma would bring us a meal or some type of food almost every night. She would call a few times a day and sit with us for hours on end. She was my reminder not only that someone else loved my baby as fiercely as I did, but also that I had someone who loved ME ...AND my whole family like almost no one else but Jesus could.
I’m not the only person in my huge family that can tell you stories about how special our Grandmoma was...or about all the things she did....that’s what made her seem like a super hero. She could be every where, save everybody, love everybody, and still cook a 4 course meal and keep her house spotless by the end of the day.
I can only imagine the things she experienced throughout her life...I mean with all the children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren she had to worry about....thing is, there was never a sense of uneasiness around her...and you never felt a sense of disapproval...it’s weird, but the love she had just wanted to make you a better person...she didn’t have a need to share disapproval because you just had this innate desire to do what was right when you were around her...it’s the closest real life image of how I picture being in the presence of God....and let me tell you, if being in the presence of my grandmother is even a trillionth of a percent of what it’s like to be in Heaven then I want to go now!
There’s no doubt where Grandmoma is now- seeing so many people she’s missed. I can guarantee Pop and Uncle Robbie were the two she was most excited to see. After Uncle Robbie died she would often say to me, “you know what it’s like...there’s nothing like losing a child.” I would always reply,”No, Grandmoma, I don’t. You had him 70plus years. I had Zeta for 3.” I truly can’t imagine what that did to her heart and soul. What I do know is that he knew he had a moma who loved him, regardless of any shortcomings....just like I know my moma and Uncle Baynard know they had a moma who would (and somehow probably did) walk water for them.....just like I had a Grandmoma who loved me and made me feel like the most important person in the world....but somehow also made everyone else around her feel just like that too! Gosh, I miss her! ❤️
Thursday, August 3, 2017
The meaning of life
Last week, I sat with a family while their mother died. She had spent the night in the hospital. Her daughter called me, frantic, the following morning and pleaded for help.
The whole way there I questioned my ability to offer support for this family in their time of need. I cried- reliving some of my own feelings during Zeta's last moments. Then, I remembered the bittersweet memory of how joyous it was to know that she would never be in pain again....the faith that God has healed her little body. I remembered all the people who held my hand (literally and figuratively) throughout our journey....and I knew...I just knew God was sending me right where I needed to be that morning.
Witnessing the cross from life to death is a very humbling, albeit emotional, experience. You're instantly reminded of the fragility of life and your own morality. Another thing it forces you to do is check your own motives and purpose in life.
I only knew this family a week, but I witnessed pure, selfless love....and It was awesome to know this mother also knew the love of Christ.
Being there- in that moment- made me check myself and my own meaning in life...am I doing what God calls me to do...am I loving and leading and caring for my own family in the way that I should?
What's the meaning of life? It's the meaning you give to it.... we all know that one day our own time will come...will we be able to say we accepted Christ and lived for Him?
"A life without meaning is to cease to exist. We all have a purpose in life; a unique plan that has been mapped out for us from birth. In attempting to discover our purpose in life we often experience difficulty because we look for it in all the wrong places. We all have specific interest and desires which leads us in the right direction, and when we discover our purpose we usually find that we have been preparing ourselves for fulfilling our purpose all of our lives."
The whole way there I questioned my ability to offer support for this family in their time of need. I cried- reliving some of my own feelings during Zeta's last moments. Then, I remembered the bittersweet memory of how joyous it was to know that she would never be in pain again....the faith that God has healed her little body. I remembered all the people who held my hand (literally and figuratively) throughout our journey....and I knew...I just knew God was sending me right where I needed to be that morning.
Witnessing the cross from life to death is a very humbling, albeit emotional, experience. You're instantly reminded of the fragility of life and your own morality. Another thing it forces you to do is check your own motives and purpose in life.
I only knew this family a week, but I witnessed pure, selfless love....and It was awesome to know this mother also knew the love of Christ.
Being there- in that moment- made me check myself and my own meaning in life...am I doing what God calls me to do...am I loving and leading and caring for my own family in the way that I should?
What's the meaning of life? It's the meaning you give to it.... we all know that one day our own time will come...will we be able to say we accepted Christ and lived for Him?
"A life without meaning is to cease to exist. We all have a purpose in life; a unique plan that has been mapped out for us from birth. In attempting to discover our purpose in life we often experience difficulty because we look for it in all the wrong places. We all have specific interest and desires which leads us in the right direction, and when we discover our purpose we usually find that we have been preparing ourselves for fulfilling our purpose all of our lives."
Thursday, July 20, 2017
Butterfly Crackers
Strange title?
Maybe.
Who would think butterfly crackers are something to talk about?
....um, that would be me!
You see, I attended an event last week for my new job. On the menu, butterfly crackers.
Why is that so cool?
If you follow my blog you already know. If not, well let me tell you. Since 2013 butterflies have held special meaning to me.
It was a few months before our sweet baby girl left my arms and crossed over to Jesus. It was an especially hard day. Stevie and I were fighting to come to terms with the fact that all signs were pointing to Zeta not being with us much longer. We were fighting to let go. On that day....as I walked outside...crying...begging, and questioning God about all the decisions and circumstances we were dealing with...I saw 2 of the most beautiful butterflies I had ever seen in my life! They seemed to dance right in front of me....intertwining....a spectacular show for my eyes alone. I knew then it was a sign....a sign to comfort my breaking heart...a sign that God's grace and mercy would cover my pain. The next day, we met with the team from Hospice Care of South Carolina. The nurse seated across from me at my dining room table was wearing butterfly scrubs. All of that is just the beginning. So many times after that, butterflies would visit us. Butterflies are a sign of freedom, resurrection, and hope. For me, butterflies became "Zeta's sign."
So, it shouldn't really be a big deal that I notice butterflies a lot now....
....except that it is.
It had been a very long while since butterflies repeatedly appeared for me....
Now, it seems to be happening a lot again.
My 2nd or 3rd week with Hospice Care of South Carolina, I was invited to ride with one of our Chaplains. When I got in her car, I noticed a butterfly ornament on her bag. On the ride to our patient's house we discussed the special significance of what butterflies meant to each of us. (By the way, she uses butterflies with a lot of her bereavement groups.) I was a little nervous about the visit we were going on. There was some concern that the family felt "the time" was close. I wasn't sure how I would handle my first up-close situation while working in an "official position" with hospice. I have a history of being able to "keep it together" in tough times....but the question still always dances in my mind, "Can I keep it together when the pain is so familiar?"
I was mesmerized when we entered the house.....the walls were covered in butterfly wallpaper!......I'm pretty sure there isn't much more to say about that. There was a lot of love and peace in that house, and I'm very thankful I was able to witness a small part of it.
Yesterday, I talked briefly to a lady with a beautiful butterfly pin on her badge. She told me about the loss of her mom and how hospice was such a blessing for her family.
Today, I'm praying for someone who also lost her sweet girl.....her latest tattoo....just take a look....
so, butterflies are pretty special to her too....
I'm convinced nothing is coincidental....sometimes, it just takes us being a little more assertive....sometimes we have lots of questions.....and sometimes the answers are as simple as butterfly crackers <3
Maybe.
Who would think butterfly crackers are something to talk about?
....um, that would be me!
You see, I attended an event last week for my new job. On the menu, butterfly crackers.
Why is that so cool?
If you follow my blog you already know. If not, well let me tell you. Since 2013 butterflies have held special meaning to me.
It was a few months before our sweet baby girl left my arms and crossed over to Jesus. It was an especially hard day. Stevie and I were fighting to come to terms with the fact that all signs were pointing to Zeta not being with us much longer. We were fighting to let go. On that day....as I walked outside...crying...begging, and questioning God about all the decisions and circumstances we were dealing with...I saw 2 of the most beautiful butterflies I had ever seen in my life! They seemed to dance right in front of me....intertwining....a spectacular show for my eyes alone. I knew then it was a sign....a sign to comfort my breaking heart...a sign that God's grace and mercy would cover my pain. The next day, we met with the team from Hospice Care of South Carolina. The nurse seated across from me at my dining room table was wearing butterfly scrubs. All of that is just the beginning. So many times after that, butterflies would visit us. Butterflies are a sign of freedom, resurrection, and hope. For me, butterflies became "Zeta's sign."
So, it shouldn't really be a big deal that I notice butterflies a lot now....
....except that it is.
It had been a very long while since butterflies repeatedly appeared for me....
Now, it seems to be happening a lot again.
My 2nd or 3rd week with Hospice Care of South Carolina, I was invited to ride with one of our Chaplains. When I got in her car, I noticed a butterfly ornament on her bag. On the ride to our patient's house we discussed the special significance of what butterflies meant to each of us. (By the way, she uses butterflies with a lot of her bereavement groups.) I was a little nervous about the visit we were going on. There was some concern that the family felt "the time" was close. I wasn't sure how I would handle my first up-close situation while working in an "official position" with hospice. I have a history of being able to "keep it together" in tough times....but the question still always dances in my mind, "Can I keep it together when the pain is so familiar?"
I was mesmerized when we entered the house.....the walls were covered in butterfly wallpaper!......I'm pretty sure there isn't much more to say about that. There was a lot of love and peace in that house, and I'm very thankful I was able to witness a small part of it.
Yesterday, I talked briefly to a lady with a beautiful butterfly pin on her badge. She told me about the loss of her mom and how hospice was such a blessing for her family.
Today, I'm praying for someone who also lost her sweet girl.....her latest tattoo....just take a look....
so, butterflies are pretty special to her too....
I'm convinced nothing is coincidental....sometimes, it just takes us being a little more assertive....sometimes we have lots of questions.....and sometimes the answers are as simple as butterfly crackers <3
Tuesday, June 6, 2017
My Why
In the world of competing and fitness there's a saying that goes, "Always know your why."
I've been thinking about my "why" a lot lately.
It's weird because Hospice Care of South Carolina recently posted a video on their Facebook page entitled, My "why" behind Hospice Care of South Carolina.
Our upcoming mission trip, my health and fitness journey, and my upcoming career change......I've been pondering my why....
There are times I keep to myself and other times I feel like showcasing my life for the world to see. It's easier to share when I'm really in tune with my "why".
Well, I was going through an old phone today and came across some pictures.
It's a flyer I came across at a conference I attended shortly after Zeta went to Heaven. It's from Hands of Hope - Hospice Care of South Carolina. That's Jena, Child Life Specialist, holding our sweet baby Zeta. The caption in the corner reads, "This past year, under the care of Hands of Hope, our family lived a life full of hope and purposeful memories"...... a statement I made about our care from Hands of Hope and Hospice Care of South Carolina.
THIS is my WHY. This should be the "why" of why I do anything....to live a life full of hope and purposeful memories....It's why I chose to go to Haiti, it's why I push to make myself better, and it's why I chose to be a part of Hospice Care of South Carolina.
I want other people to understand the mission and benefit of hospice care. We were blessed in already having a great home care nurse. With the addition of palliative care from Hands of Hope we had even more support....and finally, during Zeta's last month of life we transitioned to true hospice care.
A loving support network rooted in God's love can move mountains and calm the seas even in the most unbearable situations. I want be the hands and feet.....
So, that's my why....what's yours?
I've been thinking about my "why" a lot lately.
It's weird because Hospice Care of South Carolina recently posted a video on their Facebook page entitled, My "why" behind Hospice Care of South Carolina.
Our upcoming mission trip, my health and fitness journey, and my upcoming career change......I've been pondering my why....
There are times I keep to myself and other times I feel like showcasing my life for the world to see. It's easier to share when I'm really in tune with my "why".
Well, I was going through an old phone today and came across some pictures.
It's a flyer I came across at a conference I attended shortly after Zeta went to Heaven. It's from Hands of Hope - Hospice Care of South Carolina. That's Jena, Child Life Specialist, holding our sweet baby Zeta. The caption in the corner reads, "This past year, under the care of Hands of Hope, our family lived a life full of hope and purposeful memories"...... a statement I made about our care from Hands of Hope and Hospice Care of South Carolina.
THIS is my WHY. This should be the "why" of why I do anything....to live a life full of hope and purposeful memories....It's why I chose to go to Haiti, it's why I push to make myself better, and it's why I chose to be a part of Hospice Care of South Carolina.
I want other people to understand the mission and benefit of hospice care. We were blessed in already having a great home care nurse. With the addition of palliative care from Hands of Hope we had even more support....and finally, during Zeta's last month of life we transitioned to true hospice care.
A loving support network rooted in God's love can move mountains and calm the seas even in the most unbearable situations. I want be the hands and feet.....
So, that's my why....what's yours?
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