Quinn at Costco

We went shopping while the other kids were at school the other day, as you can see, Quinn conked out, thank goodness Costco has those big, soft pillows.

Second Anniversary

Most anniversaries are a joyous remembrance, but today's anniversary is one of loss. Mom passed away two years ago, today. I thought of her a lot over the last few days. My sister Kathleen made MP3's of some music for us, and one of the tracks was a song that my Mom used to sing to me as a child, and to every baby she ever rocked to sleep - including my own children. I brought it home and played it for my kids. Mom's voice and the voices of my sisters brought sweet memories to me as the harmonies blended so sweetly. My oldest daughter said she remembered Grandma singing that song to her. My baby, Quinton got so quiet and listened intently to the song. My emotions welled up, as it felt for a moment like my Mom was singing that lullaby to my 9 month old baby. He will never know her in this life, and I grieved her loss, and the loss of my dad all over again. My sister Cindy called this evening and we grieved together a little bit more. I miss my parents a lot. I know they are happier now, but somehow that thought seems so profoundly unfair to those of us left behind.

I read an article in the newspaper recently that made me feel a little less crazy for still feeling grief after so much time has passed. It said: "...the natural tendency is to "grieve in the shadows" and put on the everything-is-fine mask. Those around you want you to be fine and be over your loss. But that's not the way it works. He says that after the death of a loved one, it takes 18 to 24 months to feel significantly different. . .we tend to think in terms of weeks and months, but we should think of months and years. Don't panic if you have a relapse. "We don't grieve less with time, but we grieve less often with time."