Over the holiday season my heart is more tender and bruised as it mingles with the joy and merriment of the season. It’s necessary for me to stop and pause to remember my daughter. I find that forcing others to remember my daughter never really works out. It usually happens
I never wanted to be strong. But from the age of 16, when my spine was fused together with titanium, and my typical teenage problems disappeared into the bleeping of ICU monitors, I was told to be strong. I had to get out of bed the next day and learn
As we inch into the second year of my daughter’s passing, I’m finding myself at a standstill. The reality of what has happened to us hits me on a weekly basis. A photo I haven’t seen in awhile grooves new channels into my healing heart. Never again will I see
When I think back on our lives with Florence, often in and out of hospital and appointments, I remember being fed. I remember food. Another cup of coffee, an oat bar in a paper bag sitting at her feet on the starchy hospital blanket. I remember the first meal brought
I cannot pray. I don’t know how. It’s not that I don’t want to, but words fail me. They come out muffled and fake. They are stale and regurgitated from the days of my youth. I want to remember how to do this, but I cannot. I don’t know how
My cousin, The Samurai Carpenter, is a talented woodworker and carpenter. We asked him to make an urn for our Florence’s precious ashes. I really wanted marigolds and a butterfly on the urn somehow, but I couldn’t even begin to imagine what the final result would be. He is truly
Observing the death anniversary of one of the loves of your life is difficult to navigate, make sense of and find your rhythm in. I know for me, it’s important to have many rituals in place. Orchestrated mourning, I suppose. I find it really healthy, helpful and healing. I will carry these rituals with
March 2015. My daughter Florence Marigold, is three years old. We were told she wouldn’t make it past her early childhood years. Although we are thrilled she is with us, we also know there is a ticking clock. Our hearts break every time we see the progression of the disease
Nothing could have prepared me for the beauty of your spirit as you came in flesh and blood and water. Nothing. The love I have for you is vast. It is overwhelming. On the day I finally met you, I felt my heart break. The love was so heavy, it
As the one year anniversary approaches, I am starting to see that I have laid expectations on myself. I also feel that others may expect me to act differently. Somehow a year feels like a great marker in the grief journey, because it is a whole 12 months, but the truth is, I feel
This post was originally published on the Canuck Place blog. This wonderful place has made such a difference in our lives. They recently sent out a letter and packets of Marigold seeds in honour of #FlorenceMarigoldinBloom Click here to donate to Florence’s Canuck Place page in honour of Mother’s Day and our beautiful
One of the most frequent questions I get asked is: what do
The doctor hands you a stack of papers. She’s circled and highlighted the
When we look for apps for Florence, we look for simple, clean
This post has been inspired by the countless people who brought us
These blessings are specifically written for mothers and fathers that have lost
These blessings are specifically written for mothers and fathers that have lost
This advent season, I wanted to write, but I didn’t know where
