again..

Everyday brings something a little different for us. But it seems like every day is blanketed in sorrow.. like it blocks the sunshine from really penetrating. This weekend we took down most of the decorations out front of the house. Some of them were wrapped around the trees and bushes and for just a moment I smiled.. thinking how I would be doing this for her again one day when our house gets “T.Ped” because of her.. or when its decorated from a boy asking her to prom.

Two whole separate thoughts.. my mind had time for two daydreams before..

truth. death. reality.

A year out and I still forget .. I still can immediately go to the hope and the joy that was supposed to come with raising her to adulthood. I think I like it. I will be sad when I don’t. Because right now her life is more apart of me then her death.

The realization of what we will never have is so sobering sometimes. But what I have is memories. Good ones. Bad ones and simply horrible ones. But they are ours. They are mine. We had friends over for a BBQ this weekend. At the end the other moms and I sat and talked. I shared all about her last birthday. What it was like being at the hospital.. step by step.. Hearing the letters DIPG and them having no meaning until it was followed by “there is no cure”.

This picture is how I remember this time in her life. . I remember how she came up with her own birthday party costume on the fly. I remember how proud she was of it. But its a fuzzy memory. Not clear .. not touchable.
This picture is how I remember this time in her life. . I remember how she came up with her own (5th)birthday party costume on the fly. I remember how proud she was of it. But its just not quite in focus.

I know one of them had certainly heard all of it before. But they sat and listened. Im not exactly sure if I was even talking to them at that point or at them.. but oh I needed it. I hate that those memories feel like her to me. That talking about her illness is when I feel like she was real and she was here. Those times are the only ones that she feels 3d and complete to me.  I really wish that wasn’t the case, but that’s how it is right now.

The good. The 5yr old and younger before cancer memories feel like a story I read about another little girl. .. It seems foreign. But those times in the hospital and hospice. Those times are the only ones that she feels 3d and complete to me.  I really wish that wasn’t the case, but that’s how it is right now.These are my nearly tangible memories and I appreciated more than I can explain just getting to talk about them. Because the  before cancer times are somehow false and hollow to me ..

Its different for Tony. Those times hurt him so deeply. So do videos. We are so different in those ways. .. But it means I can’t talk with him about it very much. Its part of why I still write here. Because here is mine .. a way my mind can communicate with me through my fingers. I need it. But I also need to just allow my mouth to say the words sometimes.

Anybody reading this thats my friend in real life. Please allow it. Not just today.. But tomorrow and and all the tomorrows after that. Because I know I will always need it. Ask me questions that you already know the answer too. Because.. I don’t get any more new answers when it comes to Jennifer. They have all already happened. And 6 years isn’t very long is it? So there isn’t all that much to tell. ..

So please let me say it.. the same things over and over again.. Please allow it..Please encourage it. And if you know a bereaved parent I would encourage you to ask them too. If they don’t want to talk they won’t. But if they do .. and you open up the gate for them. Welcome it for them. It means more than anything you can give or do.

These were 2 of my best friends. One of them was here wearing Baby Charlotte when Jennifer died in my arms… and took care of us for weeks afterwards. And even with them it was hard for me to push through feeling foolish telling the same stories about my Jennifer. So don’t assume they know. Don’t assume they don’t want to talk about it.

Of course they might not.. but if they do.. but don’t feel like they can. Then you can help them tremendously. Because it is so hard and lonely to have nothing new to share. So often late at night I just talk out loud to her. I share my memories of her with her. ..

i like our talks

i do jennifer

i do

i just wish..

i wish i could hear your voice again.

again..until there is a cure..

9 Responses to “again..”

  1. I am your friend even though we’ve never met. I will listen to what you write….for what that’s worth. Snd you know, your friends are LUCKY to have you….im sure they learn more from you than you’ll ever know.
    I’m so sorry for your loss that my heart aches when I read your blog. If you ever get a chance remind us readers what WE can do too. I’m in.

  2. I missed out on 3 JENNIFER’s last years. There are SO many stories you could tell me that I would love to hear, not just once but many times. It’s like when I go looking for pictures of her, I only have the same ones; and I would love to have more…I am hoping somehow one of these days I find more. You are so great with words, you are so great with describing things. So, please, Libby, paint me many more pictures of Jennifer for the years I missed. Tell me all her stories, give me the privilege of hearing them. I will always want to hear everything you have to say about her. ❤️

  3. Thank you Libby for continuously sharing your story with us. You and Jennifer are teaching us so much and for that I am grateful.

  4. So glad to be able to call you my real life friend. Here for you anytime, day or night. I’d love to hear stories of Jennifer and it will never get old.

  5. I am your friend even if only through your blog. I will always read as many Jennifer stories as you are willing to share, as I clearly know less of them than those in your daily life. I know it’s not the same, but I am willing to listen (read) what you are willing to share. I don’t get tired of your stories, even ones that may be part of another story you already shared. I think that part of it is your way with words, but I think the other part is that it helps me feel closer to your loss of Jennifer. I guess that sounds a little weird coming from a ‘stranger’ but after a year+ I don’t feel like a stranger anymore. You let us into your home and your life and your childrens life all to honor your daughter and work out your feelings. I hope you continue, but I understand there could be a day when you feel finished with this piece of Unravel. As long as you speak, I will listen.

    My side note is that I have noticed the last photo you share on your blogs always seems to be my favorite. I think it’s because that’s when I notice the intense warmth in Jennifer’s eyes. They feel like a warm blanket that surrounds you in love. I can see the love she held for the person taking her photo, probably you and Tony and other family members. It’s beautiful, her warm brown eyes.

  6. Libby,
    I read every one of your blogs and I will continue until you decide not to share with us any longer. I hope that does not happen. Sometimes it is so difficult to read what you write because your pain is so raw. I just want you to know that people like me who have never met you or Jennifer love that little 6 year old. She is beautiful. You have a beautiful Soul Libby. I pray that someday you will have peace. I know your life will never be the same as it once was but I pray for peace for you and your family. Keep writing because there are so many of us that want you to share your stories about Jennifer. Even if we have already heard tthem. God Bless You.

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