We gave birth to twin babies July 18, 2007 only to discover a couple of months later that Nicholas had a fatal genetic disease called spinal muscular atrophy. He passed away November 27, 2007 and a week later his twin sister Olivia was diagnosed with the same disease. She passed away January 12, 2008. This is a memoir of their lives, as well as a place to share my journey through everything that has happened.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Mother's Day Tribute
Ok, I have to start with a confession. It did not occur to me until it was practically too late that Mother's Day was actually this weekend. Is it earlier this year?? Since both our mothers do not live in our city, any kind of special occasion like this requires planning and forethought. *sigh*
So, on top of begging my mother's forgiveness for my oversight (oh, the infinite grace of a mother!) I turned to the Lord and asked Him what could I do to honor her today. I believe He put it on my heart to tell her about the things I remember.
My mother is a woman who likes to keep busy. Even if she is sitting still, she needs to be doing something with her hands. She is an artist with yarn, and not only has knitted beautiful sweaters for me, but I especially remember a bunting bag for my dolls she made that was perfect because you could put all your doll stuff in the bottom of it. I wished I still had it for my real babies, but we couldn't find it or the pattern again. Crochet is her preference now, and she is generous with her creations. Her handmade, intricate afghans have been given to many as gifts, including the kids at the Children's Hospital. I love her creative process. She takes great care to choose her colors and patterns, and almost always alters the pattern to make it her own. If she makes an error, she will always unravel and fix it. Even if she was almost done and it was near the beginning. It always boggled my mind that she would do that when only she would know there was a flaw. Now I know it is a mark of her character and integrity. I think she enjoys the process just as much as the end result.
My mom has a servant heart. If you have followed this blog, you know she was there for us through everything we went through with the twins. But you should also know that she has always been there for her children. I remember the lengths she would go to for our Hallowe'en costumes. She once hand-made a Raggedy Ann costume for me, complete with red yarn wig. She also sourced out all the things I needed to be a mad scientist one year. I don't know that I would do that even for my own kids, to be honest.
Our house was always neat and clean. We always ate homemade, nourishing food. I didn't know it at the time, but the care that she put into our home was a center point of stability for us. Our family had its issues, as most families do, but our home was not chaotic. And she was so kind to me. As a traditional home, the care of the household was my mom's responsibility. She would remember how she felt as the only daughter growing up, and would often excuse me from chores. I wish I knew then what I know now. I would have helped her more.
We never went out shopping on a Saturday until she took the time to balance her checkbook. I wish I had paid more attention to the significance of that. She has always been a careful steward of what has been entrusted to her, and I respect that. I wish that kind of attribute was genetic. I have had to learn that one the hard way.
I remember how kind she was to our elderly neighbor growing up. She would visit with her often, check in on her, and help her out. I admire that quality in her. I would like to be like that. My Christianity has tended to be theoretical. Hers has been practical.
There are so many more things I remember. And they are the things that now shape how I serve my own family. I have had a slow maturity. I am not the girl I once was. But I believe the woman I am becoming has had a lot to do with remembering all the ways I was served by my mother.
So, on top of begging my mother's forgiveness for my oversight (oh, the infinite grace of a mother!) I turned to the Lord and asked Him what could I do to honor her today. I believe He put it on my heart to tell her about the things I remember.
My mother is a woman who likes to keep busy. Even if she is sitting still, she needs to be doing something with her hands. She is an artist with yarn, and not only has knitted beautiful sweaters for me, but I especially remember a bunting bag for my dolls she made that was perfect because you could put all your doll stuff in the bottom of it. I wished I still had it for my real babies, but we couldn't find it or the pattern again. Crochet is her preference now, and she is generous with her creations. Her handmade, intricate afghans have been given to many as gifts, including the kids at the Children's Hospital. I love her creative process. She takes great care to choose her colors and patterns, and almost always alters the pattern to make it her own. If she makes an error, she will always unravel and fix it. Even if she was almost done and it was near the beginning. It always boggled my mind that she would do that when only she would know there was a flaw. Now I know it is a mark of her character and integrity. I think she enjoys the process just as much as the end result.
My mom has a servant heart. If you have followed this blog, you know she was there for us through everything we went through with the twins. But you should also know that she has always been there for her children. I remember the lengths she would go to for our Hallowe'en costumes. She once hand-made a Raggedy Ann costume for me, complete with red yarn wig. She also sourced out all the things I needed to be a mad scientist one year. I don't know that I would do that even for my own kids, to be honest.
Our house was always neat and clean. We always ate homemade, nourishing food. I didn't know it at the time, but the care that she put into our home was a center point of stability for us. Our family had its issues, as most families do, but our home was not chaotic. And she was so kind to me. As a traditional home, the care of the household was my mom's responsibility. She would remember how she felt as the only daughter growing up, and would often excuse me from chores. I wish I knew then what I know now. I would have helped her more.
We never went out shopping on a Saturday until she took the time to balance her checkbook. I wish I had paid more attention to the significance of that. She has always been a careful steward of what has been entrusted to her, and I respect that. I wish that kind of attribute was genetic. I have had to learn that one the hard way.
I remember how kind she was to our elderly neighbor growing up. She would visit with her often, check in on her, and help her out. I admire that quality in her. I would like to be like that. My Christianity has tended to be theoretical. Hers has been practical.
There are so many more things I remember. And they are the things that now shape how I serve my own family. I have had a slow maturity. I am not the girl I once was. But I believe the woman I am becoming has had a lot to do with remembering all the ways I was served by my mother.
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