Laundy! Laundry! Oh, the laundry.

"I feel like I never get caught up on laundry.  The basket of dirty clothes seem endless!"

All too well I remember these daily feelings from years past and I'm sure they are said a million times a day by busy parents and caregivers not only trying to stay ahead but sometimes just trying to catch up!

Perhaps before one goes too far with their complaints let me tell you about some laundry I have put off...for 2 and a half years now.

There was always the question of what to do with Noah's material things that, just like they say, he couldn't take to heaven with him.  Some have been brought back to our house. Some have been given to a few close and special friends. Some have been donated. And some remained in boxes.

Until now.

Last year it felt like the time to start on a blanket of his t-shirts, a gesture that had been offered to me a few months after Noah died.  It always stayed in the back of my mind but it seemed so daunting to actually go through clothes that would bring back so many memories of a boy who wasn't here anymore. Not only did I not want to see them I couldn't imagine actually having to pick favorites. They were all now my favorites. Everything of his has become my favorite.

Then there was the task of washing them. A task I took for granted with him for 10 years. The simple act of washing, folding and hanging his clothes. But this time...they wouldn't need putting away in anticipation for him.

I actually made the decision last year to go through his clothes but it took the boxes 4 months to move from storage to my car to my garage to my living room. Emotionally I would say this has been one of the hardest parts of his death for me to face.

There is such a finality in washing his clothes for the very last time despite being able to briefly enjoy seeing his things hung up with ours once again.

Friends, don't take the little things you "have to do" get to do for those you love for granted.  That task may not be available for you to do tomorrow.

The only way I could stay focused on getting through Noah's last loads of laundry was to pray my way through it (and have Friends playing on Netflix in the background.) What peace that brought me. If you find yourself dreading a task such as laundry try praying through it. Pray for yourself. Pray for who you are bestowing your gift upon. Pray that your eyes will be open to others that you can help.

And, most importantly, thank the One who (like a dirty load of laundry) can pick us up, sort us out and wash us clean.

The Hope of Baby Jesus

Christmas is here and what a special and magical time of the year it can be for many.

For others, however, it can be full of bittersweet emotions and they have just learned to roll with the holiday in front of them and all the feelings that go with it.

Holidays, and especially Christmas, definitely have a different feel to them in my house since Noah died. Gone is his laughter, his anticipation of what was under the tree for him and his excitement of running to see what Santa had surprised him with on Christmas morning.

When Haleigh Raye and Noah were younger they loved the decorations that went along with Christmas. We always did the best to adorn the house (even though I, being very uncrafty and uncreative, usually ((always)) needed assistance.) Not only did they seem to enjoy the house being festive, they LOVED playing with the decorations. I would find the cute little Hallmark ornaments being regifted from one American Girl doll to another and the singing Santas never knew what their daily agenda might entail.

But, now, those are distant memories that only my thoughts and pictures can make come alive again and, oh, how I miss tripping over Barbie's jeep as she and Santa were out on a late night cruise through the living room.

Haleigh Raye has asked for a "magical Christmas" this year and we have aimed to please her in our home but we we also wanted to do more this year at the cemetery. More for us than for Noah.  I wanted to include things he had a part in from our house but didn't want to risk anything being damaged so I was selective in my choosing. We gathered our things, picked up our donated live tree and set off to the cemetery. A Sunday afternoon, filled with Christmas music playing in the background, quickly passed while cleaning the Lego headstones and decorating.

For the tree I chose a cup similar to the one he would make his famous chocolate milk in and also an ornament he and Haleigh Raye purchased for me, as a fundraiser, when our church was in a building campaign for our children's building.

I also brought out one of my kids' most treasured Christmas traditions. The nativity set. They loved to play with it. They would act out the birth of Jesus over and over. The wiseman made the long journey of our hallway more times than I could ever count and Noah had down pat the sound of a donkey. They would play with it so much but their favorite was the baby Jesus. I would find him everywhere. From the shower to under the bed to being hauled around on a Tonka Truck, baby Jesus definitely had his own share of adventures at our house at Christmas. I would be aggravated when baby Jesus would not be put back to his manager scene. I would go, find him and explain to the kids how he needed to be back with Mary and Joseph. Was it really that hard to remember?

All those memories came back to me as I placed the baby Jesus the one place I never thought I would.

 At my son's grave.

And as quickly as a sadness came over me so did a hope. A hope that fills me when I return to the heart of what I believe. Jesus didn't become complacent and stay in the manager. Just as that figurine baby Jesus was all over my house so is the real Jesus. The one whom the grave couldn't hold. Because Noah put his faith and trust in Him, the grave doesn't hold him either.

And that is joy. That is peace. That is God's grace and His mercy that only He can give.

How I will spend this Christmas is a way I never thought I would but there are still blessings to be found, love to be given and hope in an eternal future that can never be taken away. I wish I was still finding ornaments all over my house but I'm thankful I know how the entire story goes and where that baby Jesus and my own baby ended up.

My prayer for you, this Christmas, is for love and peace to find you wherever you are. 

From our family to yours may you have a 

Happy, HAPPY Christmas! 

! 

Noah Dean and Nate Act

Often I will get an email through my blog asking questions about Noah and what happened to him and his friend Nate.  I post regularly on my Facebook what is going on with things in our life that I forget there is other people who stumble across my blog so I wanted to put an update about things going on. We've had a busy, busy spring to say the least.

To make a long story short it took me a long time to process what happened to Noah. Once that started sinking in I wanted to learn more especially when I realized this could have been prevented. I became a board member of Electric Shock Drowning Prevention Association.  This put us in touch with another parent who was working on a legislation in their state of West Virginia to help make marinas safer. Once I saw their bill signed into a law I immediately wanted to do something similar in Tennessee.

A lot of people think a wire was hanging in the water and that is what killed Noah and Nate but that is not actually the case. The boat the boys were swimming around was leaking too much electricity from improper wiring. The boat was plugged into the marina which had no grounding and that is one of the basic elements of electricity safety. So, in essence, the problem was with the boat and the responsibility fell to the marina. The marina should have had a GFCI (ground fault circuit interruptor) to shut off the flow of electricity once the level became too high. It didn't. The boat had numerous faults as well.

While it can be hard to educate every single boat owner about proper wiring we started with the marinas to make them safer across the state. Some marinas wanted to participate in this and actually install more safety measures. Some didn't. That is where the legislation became important.

We worked with TVA, TWRA, our local representatives and the Dept of Commerce and drafted a bill. Over a year of negotiations took place with all sides having to compromise. I even had the chance to go speak at the Senate in favor of our bill when I felt we were losing ground due to money.

After a year long effort, we passed the house and the senate. A copy of our bill, along with the votes and videos, can be found here.

Just recently we had our official governor signing of the Noah Dean and Nate Act. It was definitely a bittersweet day.

I am still amazed at how far we came in such a short amount of time but I feel this was a process God was most definitely a part of. There were doors that were opened for us and all we had to do was simply walk through. As scared and as afraid of failure as I was I obeyed His lead and slowly realized I was just a vessel to what He could do.

We hope our bill educates others who are avid lake lovers. It is still our desire to keep educating others about the do's and don't's of lake safety. Most importantly, we hope Noah's and Nate's testimony is shared. Their love of life, their love of family and friends and their childlike faith that secured their eternal future.

If you have any questions about ESD or any other related information please don't hesitate to contact me by clicking on my name on the home page.

And we continue on...

It's been almost 2 years since I received the phone call that changed my life, my faith and my focus. 

The days and months that followed were a blur and there were so many times I wanted to give up and give in. But there was something in me that just wasn't quite ready to do that as tempting as it sounded. 

So I decided, despite the circumstances, to continue on.

Maybe it was a desire to preserve even in the face of adversity.

Maybe it was the stubbornness in me to show those that doubted me, as a person and as a mother.

Maybe it was a legal battle I was in the middle of that I was willing to see to the end. 

Quite possibly it was the determination to do something more with Noah and his legacy so that he would not be forgotten and be more than "that boy that was electrocuted on a holiday at the lake."

Perhaps, most importantly, it was my daughter who didn't die and would look at me with questionable eyes wondering if she would lose me next. 

Most assuredly it was a combination of all those. I would love to say my journey was full of faith from day one. But...I can't...because it wasn't.

Oh, there was faith and there was trust but there wasn't the complete willingness to hand over my life to God completely and, without that, there was little God could do with someone like me. 

My faith is still, very much, a work in progress. I'm learning more and more every day and I am AMAZED at the doors God has opened for us. During this time we have had burdens on our hearts that we just couldn't ignore and wouldn't go away. From passing a VERY COMPLICATED PIECE OF LEGISLATION to working with local non profit organization to do a fundraiser and at the same time do a memorial video to Noah and Nate before Sidewalk Prophets took the stage and even bringing them to Cornerstone Academy to meet Noah's and Nate's class who helped with the garden and bench in their memory. 

We've been able to educate boating officers, marinas and I've even went back to do a few things I did pre July 4th, 2012 and...it felt good. Hard, at first, but good. 

When I say AMAZED I mean AMAZED, IN AWE and sometimes I stand with my mouth wide open at what has been accomplished. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, we were just a vessel for Him and had I not handed over that control I can't help but wonder where I would be. 

I've got some mighty prayers warriors that I rely on especially when there is something very specific I am praying for. One of them sent me this verse last year and declared it for me on my behalf. 

I laughed at first thinking how in the world can I be used. I'm broken, I'm a sinner and I've fallen such short of the grace that has been doled out to me. 

But if I thought I was anymore than I'd be cutting God short on what He does best. 

Making something out of nothing for His glory. 

There are so many things I don't understand about my life and why I am where I am. But there is now a peace and that is what I rest in. 

This weekend I start a new chapter in my life. I am so excited (a little nervous) but more than anything I am so anxious to see what God is going to do next because I know I will do all I can to pray myself through to stay in the center of His will and, in the end, Noah's there waiting. Just like his headstone says "our puzzled hearts will soon be replaced when we see your big brown eyes and smiling face." I can see and hear him now, "Moooommm! This place is so cool! There is so much to show you!" And all those questions, all those "why's", all those "what if's" won't even matter. There will be a new life to live and "the old world, with all its tumults and troubles, will have passed away."

But for now...we must continue on. 

The Memory of Moments Gone By are the Memories that Keep Us Forging Ahead

Another 4th is upon us and February is here. It feels like it came out of nowhere. I mean it shouldn't really. As soon as the Christmas decorations were down in retail stores Valentine's Day decorations went up. Of course, in my house, Valentine's Day became a thing of the past when 2002 rolled around for that is the day Noah Dean made his presence into this life. Memories are abundant all year round but especially so during this time. 

Memories of birthdays celebrated. 

Memories of smiles, laughters and lots of presents.

And how could I ever not embrace the moment of the first time I met him. 

Yes, at 1:06…IN THE MORNING!

I was there to welcome him into this world

And I was there when we told him goodbye. 

There wasn't enough time in between. 

At times I'm so angry at the negligence and haphazard approach that took Noah's life. 

Other times I'm so focused and my path is clear.

Then I find myself in anguish because, while it is fulfilling to be able to make changes and save lives, it hurts to know I couldn't save my own son when he needed me. 

But, at times like now, when I should be shopping and party planning, all I know is that

I miss Noah and I want him home. Where I am. Now. 
Not where I will be later on for eternity.  

“For in grief nothing "stays put." One keeps on emerging from a phase, but it always recurs. Round and round. Everything repeats. Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral? But if I am on a spiral am I going up or down. - C.S. Lewis



Noah Dean Winstead 

2-14-2002 - 7-4-2012

Noah, 

A million things I wish I could say to you. Your legacy remains. Your testimony lives on. You've done more through your life and death than some people do in a lifetime. The world missed out on you leaving us so soon. I will do all I can to take care of your sister (she's all teenager now though so keep that in mind.) I saw the love and protection you had over her and you continue to do that even in death. I love all my preschoolers at church. I try to pour into them so much. I remember you and your sister during those times. Those are the years, with you, that were not stolen from me. 

There is so much emptiness with you gone but I will work towards fulfilling that…all in your memory and all in your honor. When I didn't think I could love and miss you more I wake up to a new day and I do. When you see me smile and laugh your memory isn't far for I do believe that is when you are closest. 

Happy Birthday son. I wish I was celebrating with you but there are things to do and miles to go before I sleep and, for now, we have our love, we have our memories and…I will meet you in my dreams.  

Love, 

Mom

Dec 31, 2013...Just one more day….

Just one more day…

I have just one…more…day.

One more day that I can say, "Last year I watched Noah play baseball."

Not in a dream.

One more day I can say, "Last year I sat down with Haleigh Raye and Noah."

And it isn't my imagination.

I watched them fight, I watched them love, I watched them play.

In real life.

Now I watch her live but I also watch her grieve.

One more day I can say, "Last year I watched him sleep, I felt him breathe on me, I smelled his skin."

And I'm not having to conjure up a memory.

Just one more day I can say the words "last year" and relate it to things I did with him.

What I wouldn't give for just one more day.

Just last year he was here. He was alive. He was real.

Now, as I see it,

It's still just one more day

One more day closer to heaven.

Just one more day closer to Noah.

Some of my favorite pictures. 

Taken just…last…year.

"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."  Revelation 21:4

The smallest of things can bring on the hardest of emotions.

It all started with a new box of toothpaste, or at least, what I thought was a new box of toothpaste. Well, no, now that I think about it, this all started with me cleaning out my cabinets. Such a mundane but routine task I had neglected for quite a well because, honestly, I don’t have a lot of food anymore. I rarely shop like I used to and never ever do I buy in bulk as I so often did. Why should I when it is just Haleigh Raye and me and we are not huge consumers…of anything it seems..except maybe data on our phones. 

So when I recently cleaned out shelves around my house I realized the expiration dates.  January 2013. April 2013. December 2012. July 2012. Yes, some even went back to May 2012. It was at that moment I became conscious of the fact that I have to be the most sentimental person alive. Or at least that I have ever come into contact with and I cried at that. I cried and cried. Not because I felt like I was wasting perfectly good food when other people were in need of it, that was a small percentage of it too, but I knew that when I shopped for those items I had shopped with Noah in mind. And, sentimental me struck again, when I thought, he probably even ate out of some of this. Oh good grief. I had no reasoning. I wanted to save it all. Even the toothpaste, which I had found fallen behind other items, had expired in January 2012.

And then I think I started just a sad, downward spiral of my emotions and hit every single stage of grief in just a few days worth of time. Is this a normal part of grief? Or am I at the crazy stage? Or am I just clinging on to whatever memories, thoughts of Noah I can remember, or to a life that involved him in my everyday schedule.

Add to all these upheaval of emotions that I had to help Haleigh Raye , once again, deal with what she experienced on July 4th. One morning, there was a horrible wreck on the side of the road. With it being on our way to school we feared it might be someone we knew. As Haleigh Raye looked for familiar faces or cars she saw someone being worked on. Immediately she had tears in her eyes as she recalled seeing her own brother being worked on at the dock July 4^th. Her next words were, “I hate what that family is getting ready to go through” and I knew she meant it. She hated it and her heart went out to them and it affected her throughout the rest of her day. Then a few days later she was setting in a service and someone gave their own testimony about dates that had affected them. Unaware that Haleigh Raye was among the crowd, July 4^th was addressed and how the impact of that day left a rippling effect. It ended up being a very inspiring and encouraging talk but just not one Haleigh Raye could set through nor would I ever expect her to.

And there I was with all these feelings. Angry at what took Noah away and it never being addressed with me. Sad that Haleigh Raye had all those last visions of her brother. Depressed that he was never coming back to everything that he left behind, food, toothpaste, toys and all. 

So I did what I had wanted to for a long time. I wrote. I wrote and I wrote the longest sentences to what I feel was part of the reason Noah isn’t here anymore and then I condensed it. It felt like I threw it out to the wind and I have no idea if anyone caught it or not. I would like to think so but...I may never know.

Of course the week went on and onward we went. Haleigh Raye and me both bounced back to our normal (at least the new normal anyway) selves and routines carried on because life, as we have all learned, does go on. Luckily we both try to stay pretty busy with our lives so that we don’t allow ourselves to get stuck in one phase of grief or the other. The friends that have surrounded us are nothing short of uplifting and confidence builders. The family we have is unwavering and always there. And then there is our faith. Our faith has been shaken to its very core and we have questioned so many things we never even gave a second thought to because it wasn’t put to the test in such a deep, challenging way...until now. 

A few weeks ago Haleigh Raye sang with the youth choir and, of course, I watched all the youth but especially her as she sang with joy and happiness and I knew she truly believed what she was singing. I see her live it out every single day. The words to the song have came back to me over and over and over and over these past few weeks as we have faced these scenarios. What meaning these words have now. 

You give and take away

You give and take away

My heart will choose to say

Lord, blessed be Your name

We have a choice how we respond. Among a variety of responses, we can respond in denial (which I’ve been known to do), we can respond in sadness (which I’ve definitely done) and/or we can respond in anger (got the t-shirt on that one.) 

But it is when we get stuck in those negative stages is what sets us back. And so just like the song says, "my heart will choose to say, Lord, blessed be YOUR name. That is a choice we make. That is a choice we have. That is the free will we are given. 

FBC Youth - "Blessed Be Your Name"

(Click on link to be taken to video.)

Fingerprints that wash away but thankfully the memories never do.

"Tiny hands, tiny fingers, that always want to play,

That never stop exploring that wonder of today,
Tiny hands, tiny fingers, that from the very start,

Will reach out for tomorrow yet always hold your heart."

This past Saturday I was working around my house cleaning here and cleaning there. After a morning of work I lastly came to my front storm door that is all glass. I remember this door being one of the first things I installed when we moved into our house because the other one was old and you couldn't see out it very well. I wasn't thinking about all the tiny handprints that would be all over my door for years to come and me, being the OCD person I am, feeling the need to constantly clean it almost everyday. My kids LOVED this door and the view it provided them. They would set and watch the weather, other kids play, the mailmen come and go and, one of their favorites, the city dump truck as it would cruise through the neighborhood. 

As I was cleaning away, on a door that didn't need as much attention as it did a few years ago, I was reminded of those long days of cleaning that glass along with a million other things I had to get done with two preschoolers who were 18 months apart. I felt like the days would never end and it was just minutes between waking up in the morning to lying down at night. The day flew by that fast and they, along with the demands of life, took all the energy I had. 

Honestly I don't know how I did it and I don't know if I could do it at the age I am now. I remember all those seasoned mothers who told me, "this is just a season" and "this time too shall pass." Easy for them to say. They looked put together, even had their hair brushed and were on time for events. They were actually setting down and enjoying their meals. I, on the other hand, felt like I had been in a mud wrestling competition with two untamed horses. They could be the sweetest things but, at times, I looked at the two of them and seriously questioned their maternity. How could I have produced such creatures that did such things and caused me to act in a way I never would have?  Sometimes the only reassurance of control I had was to remind myself I had a measured out portion of Benadryl for each child ready to be inserted into their mouths within a moment's notice. 

I've always felt called to being in the ministry and I truly enjoy it. It has been a privilege for my kids to get to be loved on by so many of our church members and they have always been there to give me encouraging and loving advice, but there was sometimes, I am sure even they questioned my mothering skills during those preschool years. I can recall, one evening, a church member coming up to me during our Wednesday evening meal and telling me "how well behaved your children are." I was glowing with pride and almost missed the last of the sentence when this was added, "compared to last year. They are actually setting down and not throwing their food at people." The pride quickly dissolved and I thanked her for, what I think, was meant as a compliment.

Oh, the memories. Oh, the joyous times. Oh, the rushing around, the seemingly never ending household duties to take care of.

Washed away...just like those handprints.

Life, for me now, is so different. My laundry is caught up. My to do list is shorter...and gets checked off each day. My house stays clean and my schedule is manageable. There is extra time for one more cup of coffee in the mornings. I can actually set down and watch a tv show from start to finish. I no longer have to hide my desserts for fear of little mouths wanting it. I used to request, "could someone please just give me 5 minutes of peace and quiet?" 

Sure life is busy with a teenage girl but those 5 minutes of peace and quiet are far too easy to come by now. Those handprints are gone and the glass is all clean, but the memories they left behind will most certainly last and carry me through a lifetime.

So mommas and daddies with little ones remember wise words I was once told. "This is just a season" and "this time too shall pass" cause it surely is and it surely will. 

But always, ALWAYS keep the Benadryl, or something of like nature, close at hand. 

Healing through doing...

“Mental pain is less dramatic than physical pain, but it is more common and also more hard to bear. The frequent attempt to conceal mental pain increases the burden: it is easier to say “My tooth is aching” than to say “My heart is broken.”   - C.S. Lewis

How true these words are. Physical pain is something that can be treated. It seems there can be a fix or a remedy for what ails one or a treatment plan can be put in place. If one has a broken bone, surgery or a cast is usually the next step. 

But what about a broken heart? There is nothing that is guaranteed to work. There is no prescription. There is no over the counter medicine. Not even an old wives' tale that will cure this ailment and sometimes the symptoms can't even be expressed. 

Last summer after July 4, I can remember feeling everything made me sick. To look at anything was nauseating. To set up and see the world going on around me was terrifying. Loneliness filled my days and fear stole my sleep. There were times I wouldn't even want Noah's name said or any reference to him. Just the slightest memory of him overwhelmed me. And the future. What future? I couldn't even fathom a future. It was literally, at times, hour by hour, even minute by minute.  "I feel like I am the sickest I have ever been and nothing in the medicine cabinet will help me" are words I recently found scribbled in a journal from last summer. 

14 months later and I find myself still with that exact same feeling. It truly is like an amputation. I will never not feel like something is missing. 

Because something is. Someone is. 

All this love I have for him just didn't go away on July 4, 2012. His death didn't stop me from being his mom. The need to do something for him is still there. The desire to talk about him, the stories to share about him are as present now as they were July 3, 2012. 

I've caught myself, a few times, reminiscing with others about Noah and his antics and realize I think I just told this story a few weeks ago. To others the stories will be the same ones over and over as the years go by. 

To me, they are all I have. 

His memory is what I hold onto to...I guess that's why I'm always reminding others he lived. Stories of how he was all boy. How he was so fun. And he was mine. 

So....I look for ways I can do something, anything for him now, and I know it's not really him I am doing it for. It's for me. It's helps me deal. It helps me cope. It helps me heal. 

Noah loved being outside. He would have rather been outside playing, biking or on the baseball field than anywhere else. He also took up gardening and landscaping those last few months. He was slowly learning to see and appreciate God's creative beauty around us. 

Often he would surprise me with flowers and be so gentlemen-like when he presented them to me. Look at him in this picture. He has the best hair. He has the brownest eyes and had the tannest skin. Had/has. Which do I use. If only I could go back to this minute...this moment....

Actually being outside with him, watching him play, watching him work are some of the last memories I have with him. 

A few weeks ago his headstone was installed. Finalizing it had been a long, emotion filled process that took so much energy, time, consideration and prayer.  But it kept me occupied. It forced me many times to search for verses that, not only displayed his faith, but would sustain us in years to come and remind us of Noah's life and His promises. 

But the mother in me still wants to be able to do something for him.  So recently, as I sat looking at his and Nate's completed monuments, I felt a desire to beautify the earth surrounding the distinctive stones just as Noah had beautified the flower gardens in our backyard in the weeks before he was taken away.

So we cleaned...

And we shined...

And we (ok, they) prepared the ground.

And we mulched and planted... 

And, in doing something that Noah had come to enjoy, we helped each other heal. 

And there is still much to be done...luckily. :) 

My One Sided Conversation with Noah

Recently I found myself cleaning out Haleigh Raye's clothes in her room. I got so caught up in trying to get finished it was not till I was almost done that I realized I was sitting in the very same spot I had saw Noah, over 1,000 times in this course of his short lifetime, playing with his toys. They were plentiful and lined them all up against the four walls.

And that realization hit me like a ton of legos.

I was setting right where he had set one of the last times I saw him.

Last times I saw him. Those words hurt. Those words ache. Those words shouldn't be said.

So many times I flippantly walked by him as he sat there. I can remember him glancing up at me or him being so into his toys he didn't realize I was mulling around his room. I think about how many times I looked at his room and thought, "oh, how I wish he would get this stuff up."

What is it they say? Be careful what you wish for because you just might get it.

What an understatement for my life.

Right after July 4 there was the question of what to do with Noah's room. Keep it the same, let me come home and go through it when I was ready (I stayed at my parents' house for about 2 weeks and was ready to take up residence there but I was asked, no, I was told I was going back home and that Haleigh Raye needed to get back to a routine which we did...very, very reluctantly.) Haleigh Raye had a decision in how to proceed and it was decided his room would be carefully packed up (after several, SEVERAL pictures were taken) and put in storage until I was ready to go through it. Then came the decision of what does his room turn into. A setting room? A study? An empty room to represent the emptiness we felt with him not being here anymore.

July 4 at 11:00 A.M. I walked out of my house with his room like this...

And just a few weeks later walked into this....

The final result was a second more grown up bedroom for Haleigh Raye.


The room is beautiful and fits her perfectly. I am beyond grateful for the 50 or so people who worked tirelessly for 3 days straight flipping, not only Noah's room, but my entire house. Haleigh Raye had a lot of input in the colors and setup of her room. I was incapable of making these decisions and honestly didn't care but I never ever have once regretted what was done. It was the best decision made regarding his room and my house and the people who made this decision were the ones, without a doubt, who knew me best. Just a week after July 4th all the old went out of his room and all the new went in her room...except for his television. His loved, flat screen t.v. was the only thing that remained in there of his. (We eventually moved a few things back...little by little.)

It has a special sound it makes when it is turned on and off and sometimes when I am asleep in my room and she has turned her t.v. on (or off) that sound wakes me up and I think "he's turned his t.v. on to watch his favorite show" or "he's turned his t.v. off and any minute now he will be walking in here asking to go outside."

But...of course...then I really wake up and I remember.

This particular day of cleaning out, I had spent a little more time than normal working around her room. I never hang out in there for long either. I avoid it when I can and Haleigh Raye really doesn't spend a great deal of time in her room. She's usually out and about throughout the entire house.

As I neared completion I sat back for a moment looking around the room. There are these long marks on the floor that had been there for as long as I could remember and they took me back to him setting there. Building a castle with legos or cleaning up after a massive carwreck involving his matchbox cars.

And that's when I had this overwhelming feeling.

To talk to Noah.

It was something I couldn't shake and was I felt compelled to share with him just like he was there before but this time with so much emotion that it took so much mental energy from me I was exhausted later.

I journaled my thoughts later and my one sided conversation with Noah went something like this:

We miss you. We miss you so. We talk about you often. I try to remind people about you not because I am stuck in the grief process of denial but because I don't want them to forget you. I wake up thinking about you, wondering about you, wanting to go and wake you up. I go throughout my day reminiscing about days gone by. Memories that have passed us. I think about what was, what could have been and what should have been...what should be. If you see me smiling and laughing please don't think you have been left out or forgotten. You are always there and I wear your picture around my neck every single hour I am awake. Know that I understand if I am going to make it in this world and be a productive member of society I can't keep looking back and think about the supposed to's. I have to focus on the what is. 

I keep up with your friends both at school and at church. I try to find out what 11 year old boys are into because now you would be 11. Do you have an age in heaven? Do you do anything in heaven for your birthday or is the day you went to heaven now the day that is celebrated. We don't celebrate that day. I will never celebrate July 4th no matter what anyone tells me. It's marked with such sadness that I don't ever see being able to get past. 

Do you see Haleigh Raye? Oh, how she's grown. She is such a different person than who you knew. Do you hear her prayers? Do you see her questions about you and why you aren't here anymore? Does God pass on my thoughts to you that I ask Him to tell you? Do you know what happened that day?  Did you realize what happened? Did you hurt? My first words to anyone knowledgeable in how you died is, "Hi, how are you. Good to meet you too.  Did my son suffer?" Do you know I want accountability for your death. Do you know it didn't have to happen. Probably doesn't matter to you but it does to me. Do you see my anger at your death? That I know it didn't have to happen. That it could have been prevented and not one person/entity has said, "I'm sorry." In fact it feels that I'm avoided like the plague. I just want someone responsible to say something. 

Haleigh Raye celebrated her 13th birthday and it was the best time we had in a long time. There was no sorrow just utter joy and it was all for her but you were not forgotten. I've always said if the veil is lifted for you to see us it would be when we are in complete happiness and that night we were. Were you able to celebrate with us? I'm trying my best to be the mom to her I can't be to you anymore. People always tell me, "Noah would want us to enjoy life, the lake, etc..." You were 10. How could even you know what you want us to do? But, there is one thing I will never ever doubt you would want me to do. You loved your sister with all your heart. You did. You were her protector. You shared so much. You shared secrets and many times she will tell me something you all did together that I never ever knew. Oh, how I love to hear those stories. If there is anything in this world I know beyond a shadow of a doubt you would want me to do and that is to take care of her in every single way I can. I promise you with all I have in me I will be a mother to her for both of you and you will be proud of how I take care of her not only for her...but, to me, I am taking care of you too. 

Your always welcome to me, Noah. I pray every night to dream about you. Whether it be now or 10 years from now. Your always welcome to me and I will always miss you and a part of me is gone that will never ever be replaced while I am on this earth. But one day, I hold on to the promise of the joy that will come in the morning. 

And until that morning arrives onward we will go.

Makeshift Backyard Memorial

Last year one of my fresh start goals for my kids and me was to enjoy the great outdoors and the nature that surrounds us. The first step, for me (with help), was to start with our very own backyard. Noah LOVED anything that had to do with the outside so I was eager to help start anything that might be of interest to him. So, we (with guidance) started our own little garden that Noah Dean enjoyed so very much. 

He loved planting. He loved watering the flowers. He just loved being active outside and I loved watching him immerse himself in the upkeep of his house and watching him learn. He even bought this little lighthouse (that now lights up my front porch) from Cracker Barrel for decoration in his garden. 

The summer, that was upon us, held so much promise...or so we thought. Who knew, at the time of this picture, we would only have Noah Dean just a few more months.  

A few months ago we came up with the idea of doing some type of garden in my backyard as a quiet, peaceful place to be able to sit, reflect, enjoy and even to cry. We didn't really know where it would be or what it would look like and I was still so hesitant about doing anything in my backyard so we just held onto the idea till we knew what to do. 

As we prepare for Noah's headstone to be put in place and as the holiday decorations have come and gone, we took some of the older items from his gravesite home with us. Those things were given in such love and I spent many moments gazing at those items, with so many feelings, as they adorned Noah's final resting place, so we were not quite sure what to do with them once we got them home. Something else we just held onto till we knew what to do. 

On Noah Dean's birthday, one of my good friends, Buffie Simerly gave me a beautiful white hydrangea in his memory and we just recently planted it. And then everything just came together for a little memorial for Noah. The idea of a garden and the items from the gravesite, both of which we had held on to, and then the hydrangea. 

Noah LOVED my dad and LOVED that my dad gave him matchbox cars and a few dollars every now and then so he could buy, for himself, the candy I would hardly ever allow him to have. I brought some of those home to relive the joy he felt when he received something as simple a few dollars and a couple cars. 

Last spring Noah and I attended the Chik Fil La Mother/Son Knight Event. He presented me with a Spider Mum. We took it home, put it in a vase and he was so proud of it. That flower was so beautiful and seemed to last forever. 

Each Sunday our church has flowers at the altar that families can purchase to remember or honor a loved one. I do this for Noah on his birthday and for July 4. I chose this past Sunday for ours since the Sunday before the church was decorated in July 4 decorations. I didn't make a request for any type of arrangement and to my surprise it was full of Spider Mums and yellow roses (one of Haleigh Raye's favorites.) I took them to the cemetery and brought a few home for us to remember yet another memory. 

For so long I couldn't even walk in my backyard without being emotionally overwhelmed by so many memories. From seeing Noah run around as a baby, to closing my eyes and hearing him say, "I can swing myself, Mommy" to his last days of watching him ride his bike around the house over and over...and over and over...thinking those endless summer nights would never end....

I can still look out there and see him now and if I try hard enough and let myself go there, I can see AND hear him...at the same time. A precious privilege I took for granted. 

This memorial is not right in the middle of the backyard and is not always in plain view. It's off to the side. Just like his memory is to me. Not always seen...but he is always there...just off to the side. 

So, what better place, then my own backyard, Noah's own backyard, to have a small memorial place for him where I can relive so many memories of days gone by and where new memories are bittersweetly being made.