Her Spiritual Journey

Friday, January 28th came, and I went through the motions as I typically do. But this day, my heart was a little heavier. Tears just waiting to spill over the rim. Anxiety just itching to rear it's ugly head. And than as a I shared with so many of my loved ones, friends and family, I was filled with love and confidence. Confidence that I would be able to get through the day. She would have been 10 months that day. As I sat at work, I  found myself wondering if she would have been trying to walk, or trying to say more words. I imagined her smile and her sweet little baby talk. What kind of foods would she like? And I just missed her more.

I was sitting at work and we had a customer come in with her little girl. A little girl with curls and big blue eyes. Eyes that reminded me of my little angel. I often found myself sneaking glances at her, smiling as she couldn't sit still. She had energy for days and a pure joy, not just happiness, but pure JOY about her. A sincere innocense that I remember so vividly with my Savanna. This sweet little girl climbed up onto a chair that was entirely too tall for her, but she was a 'big girl' and told her mommy she could do it, and she did! She sat there, with her precious little legs dangling, swinging to and fro. With only her imagination to entertain her, she sat there while her mom was taking care of business, one eye on the papers, the other on her little girl. Suddenly the little girl looked overwhelmingly overcome by joy. Her eyes lit up, she looked up, held her arms out, and exclaimed so that all of us in the office could hear "mommy i wuv you!!" I must admit, the bucket of tears dripped over and I had to hide away for a moment in my little cubby also known as the bathroom stall. I was filled with love, anger, and sadness. I would never get to hear that sweet little voice from my baby girl. Not in this life at least. How I longed to just hear her. I craved to feel her in my arms, smell her sweet smell that was distinvtive only to her. Eventually, I got myself together and went back to my duty station.

I got my composure and kept going. The day was almost coming to an end. The overwhelming comments to my post of Savanna's 10 month milestone were so warming and brought smiles and wet eyes. The love pouring out just filling my heart. Small pieces of sadness dripped through the hole that has been left in my heart, but the drips became smaller as I read and re-read the out pouring from so many. I was so thankful for the strength the Lord had instilled in me to get through the day. But than I received a text message from J. The autopsy results were in, they would soon be closing her case officially. Her death had 'unofficially' been ruled as SIDS but without the tox results they would not be able to close it, well now they could-it was no longer 'unoffical.' J had requested that we could get a copy of the results. It's another part of her, something that we can keep. It was also something to somehow maybe bring some peace, some closure. They would mail the results to us and we received them the next day. I looked at the day as very much empty, I have always tried to be a glass half full kind of person, but that day, my glass was becoming increasingly dry with the ring of leftover residue dried to the bottom of the glass. I wanted to know, to see with my own eyes, see that there was truly nothing we could have done.

The package arrived on Saturday in a manila envelope. We opened it up and pulled out a small stack of typed descriptions on plain white paper. Across the top her name, weight, height, and the purpose of the procedure. All of these med terms staring back at me. I know a few things but most just looked like garbled mush. But as I read there was a constant theme throughout the report, an unremarkable heart, unremarkable kidneys, unremarkable lungs... everything was normal, unremarkably normal. It had the weights of all her teensy little organs. The condition of them. Nothing out of the ordinary, unremarkable. At the bottom of the first page it declared, no sign of foul play. As I read on it gave more and more description of the exam that was done. I was somehow waiting to find something so non-unremarkable, because than there could be some kind of a reason, a real why. But as I read on, I found no such thing. Tox results-normal, her levels--normal, everything was normal. Negative for anything that could give us a concrete answer. Anything that could give me something to cling to, something to somehow allow me to accept this. But there was nothing. And after screening through the pages, I felt nothing. I had this expectation of finding some peace in these examiners words, in their findings, and instead I felt emptier than ever. I guess it's good they didn't find anything substantial, that means she truly didn't suffer. But there is no other justifications. The very last page;

Cause of death: Sudden Infant Death Syndrome
Manner of death: Natural

Natural??? Really?? She was 7.5 months, there should be nothing NORMAL about it! I would read it over and over somehow hoping that it would change to something I could grab onto, something that could erase some of my pain. And yet, there I was hurting and dying a little more inside. She really was perfect, perfect and healthy. But her spiritual journey was complete. That's what they should show as her cause of death. That is what I have now deamed it as. That reason gives me comfort and peace. It gives me hope because I know that every day I get closer to her. And with each breath that I take, I am a breath closer to her. My spiritual journey is still developing still maturing. Her path and journey were completed. Knowing that, does make it somehow bearable, manageable. And so, we got through that day. And the next day came.

I haven't brought myself to look at the report again. It feels as if I'm looking for a cure in those words, a cure to my pain, and now I know it's not there. Through the love and the hand of God, the memories and guidance of my Savanna, and the prayers and unconditional love of family and friends... that's my cure. That is what will help ease the pain. Not a piece of paper or the conlcusions of a medical examiner. It's faith, trust and love. Hope and joy. Happiness and laughter. For all those things keep the darkness away and allow me to keep going, and to take another breath.


This songs main theme is, of course, about a broken heart. But I took something different from it. The struggle she sings about with her past lover is the struggle I feel with the darkness. The first time I heard this song it brought me to tears, but it has now become one of my favorites. Hope you enjoy!

Identity Crisis

Each day presents itself with new struggles and new challenges. The same pain endures and the obstacles remain. Some days the struggles seem unbearable, and yet I awake the next day somehow feeling renewed. I'm not sure I'll ever break through the struggles or supersede the challenges, but I know eventually it becomes more bearable; more manageable, something I will just learn to live with. This week has been exceptionally challenging for me. I'm yearning so terribly to expand our family once again. To try and fill a void that was ripped from my fingers. I am not attempting to replace her, how could I? She's a special angel that stole my heart and now she carries a piece of it with her in heaven. But now here I am, and she is not. And now I am faced with, what I feel, is an identity crisis.

Before Savanna, J and I were a get up and go kinda people. We wanted to go the B's, we went. Wanted to go shopping, we went. Wanted to drive around with no particular destination in mind, we went. Than after Savanna it became a new kind of get up and go. We became a get up, get the diaper bag, check the diaper bag, get the baby, load the stroller, get extra clothes, pack the bottles, and go kind of people. Than Savanna left, and now I don't know what kind of people I am anymore. I don't know how to NOT be a mom anymore, it feels empty. I'm walking through an endless row of curtains, no ending in sight. Many people have told us, now we can be a little more selfish, now we can travel, spend time together, finish school etc. Although all of those things sound appetizing and appealing, it's not what I want. I've had my time to be selfish and carefree, to live by the seat of my pants. That chapter has passed. And traveling sounds very attractive, but children were always a part of those thoughts and visions of family vacations. J and I have never been closer, and through time I know that will continue to grow. School will always be there, and I intend to finish it. But that yearning, that hunger to be a mom still remains.

It's a feeling, an emotion, a physical force that has grabbed a hold of every fiber of my being since the moment I found out I was pregnant with Savanna. And now all of those things have simply been amplified. It's so hard to put into words that feeling, it's something only another mother could grasp I think. (In no way do I discount the yearning a father feels, but I can never relate to that feeling, I can only relate to my own.) I crave the feeling of being a mom again. It is not at the expense of trying to erase Savanna from my mind, or replace her. She will always be who she is, but I cannot deny the hole that has been left, the void that has been sucked dry. The feeling is so great that it overtakes my mind on a daily basis.

I have attempted to shut it out, lock it away and save it for later. It seems the harder I try, the more forceful the feelings become. It's a constant battle of justifying why it wouldn't be ok, why it wouldn't be right. Sometimes I wish they had a program I could just download to my central nervous system. A program for grieving. Isn't it easier when we have the answers and know the time frame? I feel that I am ready...

Some have said it's too soon, others say to go for it. My heart says I'm ready. But I can't do it alone, and I cannot disrespect J's position in the matter. (I kinda need him to participate...) But in all truth and seriousness, I know time will give us the answers. And the Lord will guide us to where we need to be. If He knows we are ready, it will happen. I just wish I could subside this constant nagging at the pull strings of my heart. It's like there's a little person in my heart pulling and tugging at the pulleys connecting my heart to my feelings to my mind.

It's a battle. And I'm tired of battling. I just want to be a mom again, feel whole again. I know a little piece of me will always be forever placed into the Heavens but I want to feel like I'm me again. It seems silly to think that a little bundle can change all of that. But I remember how drastically Savanna changed my life for the good, and after all the heartache, all the pain, all the brokeness, I can only imagine what another little being could do for me.

Memories

Memories, they're mini snapshots of life your mind takes. Those shots are than stored into files and categorized. The ones we wish to forget, the ones that make you sad, that brings a tear to your eye, we try to lock those in an archived folder and lock the cabinet and lose the key. The happy ones, the ones that make you smile, laugh, and feel pure joy we try to keep at the forefront. Smells, sights, places, people, sayings, movies, songs; all these things spark those memories and open up the cabinet. They can release those feelings all over again and replay that moment in time. I've tried to lock the images and horror movie away and have attempted to replace them with happier ones. With the joyous times and the precious memories. Those dark depressing ones eat at you, they latch on like a leech and suck the life out of you.

These last few months, the good memories are what we've attempted to hang onto. I can go into her room, and it still has her scent. I can smell lotion or oil and remember giving her baths. I hate that I won't have new memories to make with her. I can look at pictures and remember them being taken just like they were yesterday. A picture is worth a thousand words.

Everyday I'm faced with moving forward. Some days I don't want to, I would much rather live in yesterday or two months ago rather. I look at pictures and watch videos and feel like I should just be able to go into her room and pick her up. I've been struggling this last week, hence why no posting. I have been separating myself from reality trying to do some soul searching. Trying to figure out what the next day will bring. Posting here has been a source of strength and therapy. But there are days that I don't want to post because it forces me to face the music. I'm in a constant battle with the pain, the heartache, the hole I have in my heart. So I try to shy those moments away by trying to remember her.

We went into her room last night. Starting to go through and decide what to keep, what to donate, what to save. But how do you chose? How do you deem some things important and others not? Even the bordeux butt paste has memories with it! I remember the first time I took Savanna out shopping with me for the first time by myself. I remember having major anxiety about doing this. What if she starts crying while I'm going 65 down the highway? What if she starts screaming in the middle of the store? What if she gets hungry while I'm out? Well, I decided that day I was up for the challenge. So I got her dressed put her in her carrier, got her diaper bag ready and headed out for a girls day. First stop was Old Navy. I had tried to time it so that I could feed her before I left (I was still nursing) and by the time I finished at the first store she would be ready to eat again. Well, naturally she was on her own schedule. So an hour later we reached the store. I was so excited to go in and so proud that I was doing this on my own. And I was excited, I must admit, to show her off to the world!

I pulled into the parking space (I parked as far back as I could in case she got hungry, tips from other nursing moms) And of course, she was ready to eat. So I hung blankets in all the windows, put the sun shade up and hopped in the back seat. Pulled her out of her carrier and began to feed her. We were about 20 minutes into her feeding session, when I smelled that very distinct smell of a poopy diaper. So I finished feeding her, and with her still nuzzled in my arms I reached down, prepared the changing station (all one handed I might add) and laid her down to change her. And what do ya know? She got poop all over herself! So I changed her diaper, changed her clothes put her in her carrier, walked to the trunk, pulled out the stroller, rolled it to her side, pulled her out, snapped her in place, grabbed the diaper bag, shut and locked the door. As I began my walk to the store I could still smell that lovely infant poop. Checked her she was clean, and yet that putrid smell still tickled my nose. Checked her again, adjusted my shirt. I had something on my hand so I unconsciously wiped my hand on my pants and than realized I had grazed something wet. I looked down, and had liquid poop smeared all over me--and no spare shirt to change into! So, with tears in my eyes, I loaded her back into the car and headed home. My victorious day slowly drifting away. I never forgot to pack an extra shirt for me after that!

I think back to that time now and it makes me smile. Makes me laugh. I had invested so much into that event, and yet it was such a minute moment in time. A memory that I keep at the forefront of my mind. The most recent memories I continue to try and lock away and get rid of the key. I don't want to remember her the way she was in her little casket, or the way she looked in the hospital. But at the same time, it's the last moments I have of her. It's a battle, a constant battle. And no matter how hard I try to get rid of that key to the archived files, it always manages to find its place in the keyhole. I am just so thankful that I have so many great memories that make those terrible memories more transparent. And with time, I know those horrible ones will fade, but I fear that along with that, the good ones will too. I'm fighting to keep her memory alive and to remember her always.

A New Day--Another Moment--A Legacy

Everyday is a new day. Everyday I awake I say a prayer. I ask the Lord to grant me the peace to get through the day, the courage to keep going, and the hope that it will get better. And everyday I am faced with challenge after challenge. And today when I awoke, I felt that this day was going to be a good one. I got to work, started my routine, got in a flow. Went to lunch and than came back. And than a minute passed and a new minute came and my hope and peace that I had felt had dissipated from my being. I suddenly started to feel sad. I could feel the tickle on the tip of my nose and the tears began to well up behind my eyes. I dug harder into work trying to keep my mind busy. Yet something always brought me back to thoughts of Savanna.

With the 12th looming eerily around the corner, I feel myself succombing to the dark shadows that are stalking near by. It's almost been 2 months and I'm not even sure how I've reached this point. Up until a couple weeks ago, I was going through the motions. Pretending to be happy on the outside only to feel torn on the inside. There was this long period of numbness, of denial, shock and disbelief. That time of numbness seemed so much better than now. I went from feeling empty and nothing to feeling everything. The slightest comment, a look, a smell, a sound will open the gates to an enormous amount of feelings. A labyrinth of feelings that I can't find the end to. So I try to remain calm, take deep breaths, but the thoughts of Savanna stab at my mind and the emotions continue to bleed from every fiber and muscle of my being.

It's been almost 2 months since she went home. And it still feels like it was just yesterday that she was born, that she smiled, that she rolled over, that she died. That day is on a continuous repeat and I can't find the stop button. I miss her so terribly. My body is tired, my mental capacity is stretched to its limit. And I'm just trying to get through the moments. The hope that the next day will be a better one seems so out of reach.

I am so grateful for the love and the prayers that have continuously poured from those close to us and those far. But there's a part of me that doesn't want it, because it becomes a mere reality that I am here and my daughter is not. I am in a constant battle and am so exhausted from fighting this uphill battle. I dream of the day that I will no longer have to fight the darkness, but there's a part of me that wants to fight the, because the day that I awake and the shadows no longer linger so heavily becomes the days that it will become real. The reality that she is gone from this earth.

But everyday is a new day, and tomorrow will have new moments. And again I will pray that the light will enter into my day and stay constant with me through each moment. That is how my life has transformed; I live through each moment. I hold onto each of them for dear life for the fear of missing something important.



I want to thank all of you who have been following me along on this journey. Thank you for all of the words of encouragement, prayer, thoughts, and mountains of love. We couldn't have made it to this point without it. I just ask that you continue because that is what carries us through and gets us through the moments. There are days when i resent the stories that are shared with me of how our situation has caused so many of you to take a step back and love a little harder. But in the end, after I fight Satan and his meaningless thoughts he's tried to shove down my throat I realize something. I think of all the relationships that have been rekindled, the patience others have obtained, the greater love that has developed all because of my little girl. It's not our situation that has caused so many of you to pay attention to the little things, and love more freely, it is Savanna's legacy that has this wonderous affect. It is her tiny footprints that have embedded themselves onto hearts everywhere; and for that I am so proud, and I feel like I can hold my head a little higher.

A Heavy Heart

My heart is heavy with the feeling of emptiness and loss. I yearn to hold her again, to hear her cry and see her smile. I can just picture her sitting on the floor barricading through the piles of laundry I have just folded. I wish to see her sweet little fingers curled around her pacifier and her precious little toes curled under. I miss my baby girl so much. She is heavy on my heart and on my mind.

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A game of cat and mouse is erupting on my insides. My heart and my mind fighting against each other. I so badly yearn to have another. To be a mommy again. I feel like I've been teased. It's like giving a sucker to a little kid, letting them have a lick, and than tearing it from their hands for no apparent reason. I've had a taste and I so badly want it again. But when is it right? When is it OK to give life to another? I don't want to pressure J, I know he has to be ready too. And it wouldn't be fair to push him into something he's not ready for it. But am I even ready? Or am I just trying to fill a void. Would it be a replacement? I know in my heart it wouldn't, Savanna will always be my daughter, always be my first born. But would I somehow be trying to fill the brokeness in my heart, the hole that's been punctured into my life? They say you'll know when you're ready... I don't know what that means. J and I have had discussions, we both feel that God has placed it in our hearts that the Lord will not allow us to endure this pain once again. I have a certain peace about it. But I can't help but feel torn. Torn between grieving for my baby girl, but loving another of the Lord's blessings.

Our life has been transformed and everything has been put into a whole new perspective. How do I share the love I have for our little girl with another baby? How do I ensure that the baby brother or sister doesn't feel that they are second best to their big sister taken from us too soon? How do I know that I can still succeed as a parent? It's a Tom & Jerry battle of myself. These thoughts and feelings have been haunting me most these last couple of days.

Logically speaking, I should finish school, payoff debt, get in a better financial position. But that could take years and I'm not so sure I want to wait that long. I just want to scream and yell. Hit things and cry. I want to feel that unconditional love peering up at me again. That dependency and need. I want to have something to be excited to come home to again. I don't want to be broken anymore. I want the worlds strongest band-aid. These words are perhaps the hardest I've had to write. I feel selfish for wanting another.. I pray every night that the Lord will guide me and allow me to feel OK. To be content with wanting another child.

I look at the websites of families of those who have lost their precious ones to SIDS and I scan the photos with my heartbreaking all over again.

I hate that their are no toys I'm stumbling over in the middle of the night. No bouncer sporatically sounding off at the wee hours of the morning. No poopy diapers stinking up the garbage. I stop myself from walking over to the baby section of the store. I feel like I'm stuck in a pile of super glue. And my heart is shattering. I wish I had the answers, instead I have more questions.

Please Lord guide me through this time, this moment. Savanna my love, keep the shadows away and help mommy see what I need to see. Hold my hand and guide me through this darkest forest. Be my compass and lead me home. Take this pain and heal my wounds. And somewhere in there, give me the moment where I will know it will be OK. I was born to be a mommy, but I can't help but feel the privilege has been ripped from my arms. And here I am. Lost, confused, pained, and empty. I yearn but am I yearning for all the wrong reasons? Lord hear my prayer on this day and grant me the peace and comfort I need to carry on.

Today was a better day...

Today was a better today, yesterday was a crappy day. Yesterday I was angry. I received some information yesterday and my entire day spiraled out of control. Later I found the information was misconstrued and twisted around. But in those moments, some truths that I had tucked away started to come to light. And that incident caused me to lose my peace for the day. (Thank you TG, BE, TC, & J for helping me understand this...) And right now, my daily peace is what I have to keep me going. My daily comfort and hope. And yesterday, because of a simple action, a word, that was all stripped away. And once again I felt everything spiraling out of control. I was at work, and my hands began to shake, my heart started to race, my mind wouldn't focus, I wanted to get out of my skin. I had to leave, to get away, even if just for a moment. (Thank you TC for putting up with me that day, you were a true blessing that I needed at that moment!) I realized some things about other people, and I learned a lot about myself yesterday.

I learned that I can't fix people. I need to surround myself with people who will lift me up, who will share in my faith and love of the Lord. People that will help me move forward, not backwards. The hill is already so slippery and steep that any small gush of wind will make me go tumbling back down. I am learning that I cannot console others and assist in their grief when my grief is so much greater right now, so fresh and raw. In no way do I attempt to discount others in what they feel, but truth be told, unless you yourself have lost a child, there is no comparison. It is what it is. And yet somehow, I have stumbled upon individuals who feel it is necessary to put their grief above ours. I've already lost my daughter, and now they try to take away the healing and the grieving that I have? I have always tried to see the good in people, the silver lining of any given situation, my glass is half full. But I have come to a realization that I can't save people, I can't make others view life the way I do. I can only concentrate on me and my family. I can only control me. 

So yesterday, I made another choice. I chose to purge my system of those negative people. The people that will continually rip open the wound. I can't continue to rise above if I keep getting smacked down. I refuse to let someone steal away any precious moments I have. I refuse to let another take away my days of peace and hope. Yesterday was a bad day, but today was better. Tomorrow is a new day, and I pray that I will be filled with the peace and the hope that I need to get through each moment. 

Sidenote: I chose not to get specific in nature to the situation in order to protect the privacy of the parties involved.

A New Year a New Me

WOW! What a year it's been. So many mixed blessings I don't even know where to begin. It's now the fourth and I finally have given myself a moment to think back to what actually happened the last 364 days. The year started and I was 6 months pregnant. We were excited, nervous, anxious and ready for the little bug to show. No one more anxious than I as the sleepless nights, countless trips to the restroom and late night refrigerator and pantry raids became increasingly annoying. The days seemed to grow longer and I was more and more tired of work. (I was working at Ross at the time)

We also celebrated our third Valentine's Day together. I awoke that morning to find the hubster missing in action. Not a rare occasion as he is always out of bed before me. As I walk out he has a pink monkey, flowers, and a solid silver wedding band. (this was after we promised we wouldn't get each other anything to save up for baby Bogue.. go figure, he NEVER follows the rules!!) I wanted a solid band to replace my pointy jagged diamond band. All for our little bundle that would soon meet us. (I found out shortly after baby B was born that my nails were way more hazardous than my ring) I was overjoyed and thrilled. As I felt fat, nasty, and always in the way... this brought a smile to my face. We than enjoyed a dinner of just the two of us that evening. (we knew the 'just the two of us' dinners would be scarce once little bean joined us, so we took advantage!) There was even more this past year brought us.

I was a coach for my high school that I graduated from. (cheer and dance) I was in my fifth year of coaching and my final year. Not because I was pregnant (please believe I was still doing pirouettes with the best of them!) but because J had received new orders that would bring us to Wichita Falls, TX.( He was getting an instructor position, and although we were absolutely thrilled for the amazing opportunity and wonderful blessing for our little family to be, I was sad.) So in my last year of coaching, our girls (and guys) managed to clench the 4A State Championship! The first time EVER!!! We also got bid to the national competition in Anaheim, CA (I would not be able to attend since it was too close to my due date). The spritline became my family. The coaches my best friends and mentors. The kids a reason to keep going. I knew of all things I would miss them most. But I had to come to terms with the new reason to keep going, and although the spiritline became a part of my past it did not mean I needed to forget. That team will always have a little piece of me.

J and I also celebrated our 24th birthdays, and our 2nd wedding Anniversary. We also welcomed our newest addition, baby Savanna. Our little miss priss. She became our new reason to keep going, to make a better life for her. Shortly after she was born, we knew we would be moving. Savanna was born March 28, and we were leaving May 28th. She would be exactly 8 weeks. So we were enjoying the thrills of parenthood, the broken sleep, the pitiful cries, the poopy diapers, and the milestones. And while we were trying to enjoy becoming parents, we were having to pack. The movers came and boxed up our entire life and loaded it onto a truck. That Friday we would head to TX. I said goodbye to my team, my friends, my best friend, the B's, and my parents and brothers. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I had made a life for myself for the past 12 years, and although I was excited for the path the Lord had laid for us, I was scared as hell.

So we left and we came to Texas. We bought our first home together. A cute little 3 bedroom, 2 bath, 1500 sq. foot with a fireplace brick home. The moment we stepped in we knew it was our house; our home. Savanna would grow up her early years here, we would truly get a start on our family. J began teaching, I found a new job, and went back to school. Savanna continued to grow and grow and grow. She rolled over the first time, crawled, and talked in this house. She began to sit up on her own and even started to recognize her own name. She was curious and wanted to get into everything around her. Including the dogs bone!

Along with good there is always bad. And the worst of it all, as you all know, is the day the Lord needed Savanna back. It's funny, I think back to the beginning of last year, to where I was ago from this point in time. I was such a different person even than. I feel that I have grown so much just over the last month and a half. I've grown in my marriage, in my faith, as a mother, a friend, and a woman.  And that happened in such a small time frame when you compare it to the rest of our lives. All of these things happened within the tiny walls of a mere 365 days--52 weeks--12 months--1 year As quickly as I blink, it all happened and was over.

And now here I am on the brink of the 2 month anniversary of my baby girl passing. We will celebrate our 25th birthdays, our 3 year wedding anniversary, Savanna's first birthday. A new year with new events and new memories. How I wish everyday Savanna was a part of those new memories, but I will forever be grateful for the 7 months and 15 days I had with her. I will be forever thankful for the 38 weeks I got to be lifeline. I got to have a person in my person for 38 weeks, a little being who from the moment I met I fell instantly in love with. A teeny little person that stole my heart that March afternoon.

So now, here I am. It's a new year and of course everyone asks what their New Year's resolution is. Mine? To have a better one! To not let the darkness overrun the light in my life. To keep getting up the morning and to keep going. To learn and grow, to love more and hate less. Laugh lots and smile contagiously. Cry some, yell a little. "We either get busy dying, or get busy living (thanks dad!)." I choose to get busy living.