Disclaimer: In order to fully understand the importance of this blog you must first read this one if you haven't already.
I just got off the phone with a very very dear friend of mine. As some of you know, I coached cheer/dance for five years when I lived in Phoenix. It was for the school that I graduated from and cheered/danced for. I had to quit because hubby received orders to move to Texas. It's one of the things I miss most back there.. Those kids became my kids, that program was our baby that we developed into a mature adult. And those coaches... JE, C & K became an extension to my family. J especially is extra special to me. She was my coach at first, than she became a colleague, and than my mentor and most of all my friend. She was with me through tough past relationships, she was one of the first people I told when I got married, she was at my wedding, and she was one of the first group of people to meet my Bo after she was born. (she's the reason we call Savanna Bo.. more on that later though) She's that person that no matter what can always make me cry. I think we all have that person... There has always been an extra special connection between her and I, one that not even 1100 miles can break. She was never afraid to give me tough love, but was always there to lend her shoulder. So needless to say, and with less words.. she's awesome!
Well she's the one that called me. The team just had a competition today and she wanted to call and tell me about it.. but she also said she had something to tell me about Savanna.She proceeded to tell me that she got word that one of the girls got into a car accident. Her car had flipped. My breaths stopped in my throat. This can't be happening.. but she seemed calm. So I just held my breath. JE and the other coach headed over to the scene. When they got there, the car was flipped and two of the girls were in the car. When the medics got there.. one of the girls was cleared.. walked away without a scratch. The driver, needed to go in as a precautionary measure.. But otherwise totally OK. So, I started to breathe again. She than says, this is where Savanna comes in. I'm thinking.. what could she possibly tell me?? They flipped the car over and one of the officers were over there pulling stuff out of the car.. and the first thing he pulls out and plops on top of the car was a ladybug pillow pet. At that point in her story, I couldn't help but cry. My Savanna knew where to be.. and she was there watching over my other family. Over my 'adoptive' kids. She was there.. and she let all of them know she was there. JE told me that they all looked at each other.. no one spoke a word.. they just cried. Cried because they knew Savanna's presence was with them. And that my friend's is no coincidence.
On another note.. the poll is completed.. J and I have discussed and we finally came to a conclusion for Savanna's project name. The clear winner of the poll was Savanna's Wings.. I wasn't sure it was a good fit.. so I spent the last couple days thinking about it. Savanna's Wings is the story of my journey through this new life. It's Savanna's story.. Well I started to think about the day after she died. The weather man called for rainy, nasty, cloudy, no sun kind of weather. And the way the night sky was looking that Friday night, it seemed like that was the deal. Quite honestly, the mood would have been very fitting for crappy weather. But when J and I awoke and pulled ourselves out of bed that next day.. we were both blown away. He walked outside first and I heard him call me.. I went out in the front and we both stood in the middle of our sidewalk hugging and crying. There wasn't a cloud anywhere in the sky. The sun was shining as bright as ever, just barely peeking over the rooftops. And the sky, oh the sky was the same blue as my Savanna's eyes. I wish now that I would have taken a picture, although no camera could have captured the beauty and the significance of that morning light. At that moment, that was my first sign from Savanna that she was OK and she was safe.
Fast forward to that week, to Wednesday, the 17th. The day of her funeral. It was the end of the service.. we had an open casket. Everyone walked by.. we let all the family go before us. We wanted to be the last to say goodbye to our baby girl. We walked over to her sweet little body.. I covered her with her blanket, placed my necklace next to her. J put in her bib, toy froggy, and binkie. They than asked us if we wanted to wrap her up for the last time. I said yes.. in my opinion, I had done 'good' until than. I had kept myself together for the most part. In hindsight I think it was the numbness of everything really settling in. As we tucked the satin sheets over her.. the numbness quickly wore off and I realized the significance of the action we were completing. I was tucking her in for the last time.
This was the last time I would get to see her face, or feel her fingers. This would be my last moment of taking in every wrinkle, every roll, every curve of her features. This was the last time i would get to put my baby girl to sleep. And all at once.. the things I hadn't been able to feel, flooded me like a massive wave. I don't remember them closing the casket lid, I wished I could have watched, I don't remember how I ended up on sitting on the pew, I wanted to finish tucking her in. I had lost all composure, all care at that point. I only wanted her back. J and I were hugging.. we were crying.. and than there was a hush. My dad told us to look. I mustered up the strength to lift my heavy head and look in the direction of his pointer finger. The sun.. it was shining through the pink stained glass window of the church, and the rays were centered directly on J and myself. It was the second time Savanna was with me. And for a split second, I knew, one day, I would be OK.
And so it only seemed fitting what to call her projects. She gave me hope in those little snippets of feeling her with me. Of her reassurance that I could keep going and it was OK. That is my hope for these projects. I am in hopes that the families will feel a little teeny bit of OK. That from our Savanna's legacy they can have something to cling to maybe keep them going. That's what the main part of this journey is about right? To have hope again? And so we decided to call our legacy to Savanna
There's a hope in those two little words. An essence that is completely that of my daughter. I am so proud of her, so honored that I was chosen to carry her for 38 weeks and care for her for 7 1/2 months. She touches lives everyday, and with the legacy she's left.. she will touch so many more.