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The Dasher had a sleepover at grandma and papa's house this past weekend, but I didn't realize during the planning that Kitty would be part of the fun, too!
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I was so tired yesterday ... so very tired. But I didn't know why.
This morning I realized it's because that doggone grief returned with a vengeance. A story was published in the Minneapolis Star Tribune on Sunday about Mandy, son-in-law, my grandchildren, their story of breaking through the ice on Lake Minnetonka and their life together five years after the accident. It was the front page story. No wonder I'm exhausted. I just relived the past five years in one weekend.  The sight out my back window took my breath away. Cardinals ... baby cardinals. There were so many tiny, red-tinted birds in my cherry tree that I stood in amazement for several moments before I was brought back to reality. I counted. There were no less than 28 of the plump little creatures smattered among the branches.
Pardon the photo quality, but I had to capture the moment and the only device nearby was my tablet - quick ... get a photo before they fly away. As I've noted in prior posts, I am a big believer in signs, gifts given to us from our loved ones. One of the signs I recognize most frequently is the appearance of a cardinal. Now, in my tree, sat more than 28 of them. What was their message? April 25 ... it's Kitty's 5th birthday. My age progression photo arrived via e-mail yesterday afternoon, just in time for today's special remembrance. This is the fifth year for Mandy to take the day off of work, order a cake from a nearby bakery and spend time alone with her daughter at the cemetery. She throws a private party and I order my custom photo. We mourn and, at the same time, celebrate our precious Kitty Rose ... in a manner unique and comforting to each of us.
Tuesday, February 14th ... Valentine's Day is here. It's not a big, spend-a-lot-of-money-on-your-sweetheart kind of day for us, but rather a day my family exchanges small tokens of our love and appreciation for one another. Even though I won't see any of my grandchildren today, I've been planning their little gifts for weeks.
And, thank goodness there has been something 'happy' to keep me going.  My family and I are safely back on dry land. No one plunged overboard, the ship didn't sink, motion sickness was minimal for the group and we were all able to enjoy our adventure. There were even chuckles at the Dasher doing her best Kate Winslet imitation when one of the ship's captains led us to a secret spot at the very front of the boat.
The purpose of our vacation was to escape a week of stressful reminders of the details of Kitty's death. On the past three anniversaries, we received cards and phone calls and saw news stories about the dangers of driving on ice-covered lakes that mentioned - and even flashed pictures - of our little Kitty Rose. This year, Mandy and son-in-law wanted to remember their child privately, away from the snow, ice, telephone, social media and TV.  's New Year's Eve. If you are reading this any time today or on January 1st, I'm guessing that 2016 was not a good year for you and your family. My sympathies to those of you who lost a grandchild - or any loved one - and to those who experienced multiple losses over the last 12 months. Most likely, you are saying 'good riddance' to the past year and are looking forward to better days, a more healing and comforting 2017.
Last Friday provided a beautiful September afternoon and, trying to make the most of what nice weather remains this year, I loaded the Dasher and the Basher into the double stroller and we headed to the park. Being a school day, there were no other children in the play area. I was pleased there were no older boys and girls to tempt Dasher onto the playground equipment intended for 5 - 12-year-olds. It would be all I could handle to keep my eye on her in the 'little kid' section while feeding Basher his bottle.
After a short time, a group of about a dozen women pulled into the parking lot. I called out to Dasher to stay on the grass and to not wander down on the path towards the cars. As the group walked past her, I heard Dasher greet them with a loud and enthusiastic "hi". I'm not sure if she thought they might play with her or if they had something planned that she would be interested in watching ... and later imitating. Being a bereaved grandparent takes us on a complicated grief journey. We not only have to work through our own grief, but also that of our child. In order to be successfully supportive of our children, we need to be understanding of and empathetic to the enormity of their loss and pain. But our hurt is also deep and we should be caring for ourselves, too.
How do we manage that? For 27 years, Patty and Jerry Wetterling held on to hope. They never gave up on the hope that their son, Jacob, would come home. Hope sustained them and kept them moving forward, kept them vigilantly working to protect children around the globe. May God watch over and bless the Wetterlings as they begin their extremely painful and endless grief journey. May hope once again find a place in their hearts.
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