2011 WTR

This year the weather was cold and rainy for Walk To Remember. Many people decided not to attend or to leave early. As Dustin put it, "We weren't given a choice of losing our daughter. We are given a choice to honor and remember her". I couldn't have said it better. We battled the elements, bundling up in layers, jackets, hats, gloves, and ponchos. Thank you, Grandma Sue and Aunt Suzy for toughing it out along side us.

It was, as expected, an emotional and beautiful event. Listening to others stories brought up many old feelings: blissful ignorance (how I miss you!), happiness, anticipation, confusion, brokenheartedness, devastation, defeat, sadness, anger, frustration, detachment, hopelessness, loneliness.

After the walk Brooklyn's M.C. Pizza offered 50% of sales to benefit WTR. A local (not a chain) dive restaurant, good food, not having to cook, and benefiting WTR I couldn't resist. We filled our bellies with cheesy garlic bread and calzones. For dinner we took home eat eggplant pizza and cannoli. All of the food was delicious. Tatum thought the sauce was so good she drank it.

Dustin and I are careful what we say in Tatum's presence so we were surprised on the way home when she told us "We lost Payton. She has wings in Heaven. Everyone has wings in Heaven. They can fly all around". Dustin asked how she knew Payton had wings. She answered, "She told me".

Cold, wet, and emotionally drained we spent the rest of the day snugging in bed watching movies. As is every day, Payton was in our thoughts.

Stuff

As a therapist I often receive fliers announcing upcoming training opportunities. Recently (and for the first time ever) I received a flyer for a pregnancy and infant loss conference. There are many co-workers and associates I feel need to be aware of the conference and a few I feel need to attend. Therefore I forwarded the flyer on. I'm not surprised but disappointed by the lack of response. The person who should absolutely attend replied she would pass along the flyer. Don't get me wrong that is great. The more people who know about the conference the better, but she dismissed herself attending even thought she works with pregnant women and wasn't the most compassionate after I lost Payton. Again I'm not surprised but disappointed.

On a side note. My old perinatologist is speaking at the conference on physician and relationship based care. I find this ironic as he was the one who didn't notice signs of concern during my pregnancy with Payton (i.e: first child was low birth weight, my low weight gain, and Payton's small size). He was also the one more concerned about covering his own bum than giving us answers after her death. Not exactly what I would consider relationship based care.

Today I registered for Walk to Remember. Sadly look forward to remembering our babies with other bereaved parents. Yet, I'm a little hesitant. I understand people cope in the best way they are able. Still, I have a hard time being around smug pregnant women or smug new parents. I don't know how to describe the difference between smug vs. happy, but there is a difference! Maybe I'm overly sensitive but WTR is not the time to show off your pregnant belly or infant. It is a time to remember and honor the baby you didn't get to keep. There are a few people I'm dreading seeing.

Change Of Plans

After the last post, life threw me a curve ball. The evening of the 19th I was in a car accident. I was hysterical, to put it mildly, and taken to the ER. The paramedics attempted not to take me to the hospital where I delivered Payton. Yet, due to the location of the accident and traffic that is where I found myself. I was only in the ER (not the maternity unit) but forced to return 'to the scene'. As I lay in the exam room my mind was flooded with memories of delivering Payton and of holding her in my arms. In a weird way I guess it was okay- I survived.

I'm thankful to the people who helped. I'm still angry at the adults in the other car. As a parent who lost a baby, I'm angry two adults put six children in a car without seatbelts. I try not to be bitter that people who make irresponsible decisions as to the safety of their children are able to have children; while so many BLM's are living without babies. BTW, I am fine and believe all the other parties are fine too, thank you Lord.

The ironic part is before I left work I was reading an article which stated some unfortunate events in our lives are God’s way of waking us up (I'm simplifying). Later that night I wondered what God wanted me to pay attention to? I still don't know. I only hope the other people pay more attention to the care and safety of their children.

Needless to say, in the end we didn’t go to the Sand Dunes. On the 21st we went to Payton's gravesite. We survived 18 months. Yet, I still cannot stop thinking how different our lives should be, what Payton would be like, what would she look like, or a million other questions. I wonder do we ever stop thinking of the should be's or the what if's?

A Mess, A Complete Mess

With the 20th & 21st fast approaching I have been a complete mess. 18 months is turning me into an emotional wreck- again. And the external reminders don't help. Last week I wept in the bank (luckily I rarely go to the bank) when I read the male teller's name tag- Payton. I'm sure all the tellers and customers were wondering about my emotional stability, or should I say instability. Saturday we took our British house guest to a local water park. In the children's area was a toddler, she looked to be about 18 or so months, playing in the water with her parents. The little girl's name was Payton. I stood staring at her, crying and thinking I wonder if my Payton would have enjoyed the water. I thought about all the things their Payton would experience that my Payton wouldn't. Ahh! Why do situations like this happen? It's like a knife to the heart. Actually, a knife to the heart would hurt less. Twice in one week I saw/heard the name Payton. It's not an unusually name but definitely not extremely common.

For the most part I've been trying to stay busy; entertaining our guest, planning a weekend trip, and a party. Not sure if it is healthy or not? At times it seems as if I'm just avoiding feeling anything, which only leads to meltdowns at banks or water parks. Either way, Thursday we are taking a trip to the Sand Dunes. I'm not sure if it's a good idea or a really bad one? I know where ever I am, home or in southern CO, I'll be missing Payton and thinking how I wish she was with us. I also know in my real world no one (other than my husband and Tatum) will give Payton a moments thought, which makes me sadder and angry.

MIA

It's been over three months since I last wrote. Cannot believe so much time has past! Life has been busy. I haven't had time to write. Okay, that is a half truth. Yes, life has been busy but I haven't allowed myself time to process. Here's an update...

Holidays came and went. Father's Day was particularly hard for me. Every year we go camping. This would have been Payton's second time, but her first enjoying it. There is something so sweet about watching a father excitedly teach his daughter. (Probably the same about a father and his son. I just don't have a son). My heart hurts knowing I will never see Dustin teach Payton to fish. I don't even like fishing or camping.

Although Dustin and I were never going to be emotionally ready, we took down Payton's room for Tatum's sake. Tatum began making statements like; "Baby Payton come have a sleepover", "Sometimes Baby Payton can sleep in her crib", and "I share my bathroom with Baby Payton". We knew she was trying to make sense of life/death and we weren't helping. One day, Dustin and I went through and packed Payton's things while Tatum was at daycare. When Tatum came home we all took apart Payton's crib, painted her room, and moved the computer in. Taking down Payton's room was the most painful step to date. Her delivery, funeral, and due date occurred during the shock phrase- thankfully. Even picking out her grave marker wasn't as hard. Dismantling her bedroom made her life seem more like a dream. And while organizing the 'office' Tatum and I came across a picture of Payton's feet. Tatum said, "Picture of Baby Payton's feet. Where picture of her face? I didn't get hold Baby Payton". Tears! All we have is a picture of her feet. No memories of Payton's childhood. No memories of sisterly giggles or hugs.

Since my husband lost his job I've been doing contract work. While I am thankful for the opportunity I don't know how people work full time (or how I use to). I come home physically and emotionally exhausted. During many contract intakes I listen and document information about a child's birth. Many include stories of complicated births or are similar to Payton's, the cord was wrapped around her. The only difference is these children lived but Payton died. It is painful knowing God allows children from abusive or substance abusing families to live but not my child. I don't understand and I know I will never understand. Yet, it isn't easier.

My husband received a job offer from a local school district. The job starts in August. Yay, health insurance for he and Tatum once again!

I participated and completed Anchored By Hope's on-line Bible study. Sad, emotional, yet helpful. Very helpful! To share face-to-face (sorta) thoughts, feelings, and scripture with amazing women each week was therapeutic. Honestly, it was more helpful than meeting with a therapist.

Half way through the study, after an emotional yet uplifting meeting, I walked downstairs to find Tatum carrying the whiteboard. She saw me and yelled, "Look Mommy, look I write Baby Payton's letter. I write P for Baby Payton". She was so proud she wrote her sister's letter. I still have no idea how she taught herself to write 'p'. It was so bittersweet.

 

We had family photos taken, minus Payton. It was something I felt we Needed to do, not something I Wanted to do. When it comes to family matters I do what I need rather than what I want (Payton's bedroom and camping). Life without my child is suppose to get easier. I keep waiting. I'm beginning to believe life doesn't get easier, instead life gets too busy to process each event. I am proud of myself for holding it together during the shoot, if only because of mascara. But as soon as the car door closed I wept. Our family will always be missing Payton. Every family photo will always be missing Payton. I am glad we included the sheep. The sheep was a gift for Payton. We gave it to Tatum to help when missing her sister. Tatum takes the sheep everywhere. The photographer is amazing. The pictures are awesome. Yet, the photos make me sad.

We planted and tended to Payton's flower garden and our vegetable garden. Seeing Payton's flower's, especially the Forget-Me-Nots warms my soul.

In April a friend's son asked if he could come live with us. We agreed and prepared for life with a teen-aged boy. However, his move was postponed for a month, than another, and now? Possibly August? It's disappointing. 

This week we prepare to host a British soccer coach for a week. Also, I'm planning a surprise party for my mom.

I believe that is it.

Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope

Help Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope win a $25k grant from Pepsi Refresh! Go to http://facesofloss.com/ for details. Act quickly voting ends soon.

Faithful Friday

At times it feels like I'm just waiting for the next shoe to drop. Yet, I'm always looking for a sign, no matter how small, to have faith and be patient. Patience is not a strength I possess.

Friday afternoon I past a familiar digital billboard at a church near work.

A sign! I'm not necessarily taking the sign to mean what it does to the baby loss community- another child. Rather, life will be okay, have faith, be patient. I felt peace upon seeing.

Waiting Babies

Amazing! Absolutely Amazing! Boy tells story of meeting his unborn sister (who mom miscarried before his birth) in Heaven. The story is also the bases of the book, 'Heaven Is for Real'.

If nothing else makes one believe in Heaven this certainly will. The story brings tears of love, hope, and peace! Our babies are waiting for us!

Job 21:2 “Keep listening to my words, and let this be your comfort".
Even if through a child.  

Big Step

It has been a year, yet I haven't felt ready to take a huge step. Until now that is. I met a good friend’s son. She and I were pregnant together. We planned play dates. But then Payton died and her son was born 3 months (to the date) later. Throughout the year she has remained a wonderful friend. She continued to ask what we needed, gave me time, and remembered Payton's day. In spite of this, there was an elephant in the friendship- her son. I hated I couldn't be a better friend to her. Yet, she understood.

Finally feeling strong enough, we scheduled a date at the aquarium with her son and Tatum; recognizing a loud public environment and a three-year-old would be a good distraction. I was anxious the days leading up to. I didn’t even tell my husband for fear I would back out. And oh how I wanted... Especially when on the drive to the aquarium Tatum talked about Payton and Heaven. She muttered the hardest words to hear, "I going to die before you and before Daddy. I wait in Heaven for you and Daddy". Lord please NO!

Despite the panic I felt, we went anyway. And well... I survived. Her son is cute and easy going. There were moments I held back tears. Particularly, when he and Tatum were engaged in a game of he drops a toy and she picks it up; over and over again. But I survived.

The emotional tone of the afternoon continued when my husband informed me he was laid off. Initially, I panicked and questioned why we cannot get a break. Once the news set in, I realize this may be good. Perhaps this is God’s answer to our prayers. Praying so!

Apathetic, That's Me

Defined as having little or no feeling or emotion. These days, apathetic is the best word to describe me. I realized this as I watched footage of the recent tsunami in Japan. Sitting in my warm home, I Thought 'oh how sad'; as if it was the correct response, the expected response. However, I Felt nothing. People died. People are missing, cold, hungry, afraid. Lives destroyed. Yet, I Felt nothing?

I think back to last year's earthquake in Haiti, I Felt absolutely devastated. I wept for those who lost loved ones. I could only imagine their pain. Until, weeks later when I knew what it is to lose a child. Now living with the loss, how am I apathetic? On the news was a story about a preschool child who died and how she affected many lives. Again, I Felt nothing, but Thought 'sad' and 'at least she got to live'. This thinking isn't right, it's disturbing.

I’m not apathetic to all loss, not to women who lose their baby during pregnancy or soon after. As I read or hear stories of such women, I Feel their pain and cry for what each is going through. Does this make me situationally apathetic? Apathetic is not a word ever used to describe old Elainna. Nor is it a word I want to describe new Elainna. I’m not sure what to do with my new realization or how to change.

Butterfly Day

In honor of Learn About Butterflies Day and my 'butterfly':



Butterflies are a symbol of transformation. A butterfly starts as an egg, becomes a caterpillar, forms a cocoon, and emerges as a butterfly in her unfurling glory. The transformation takes about a month. The deepest symbolic lesson is the butterfly asks us to accept her changes as casually as she. This unwavering acceptance symbolizes Faith.

In Greek mythology, the Psyche (literally translated meanings soul) is represented by a butterfly. Psyche is linked to an endless bond and love.

Wow. Sadly fitting, Payton's room was to be decorated in butterflies but she was gone before we had the chance.

Thankful

Losing Payton changed so many things including my perspective.

Yesterday I stood behind a man in line at the pharmacy. The little man was there to purchase needed medication... I a wanted snack. The clerk rang up the man's bill...$8. The man asked why the medication was $8, not $4 he expected. The clerk told him the medication was two month supply, the cost of each month was $4. The man explained he couldn't afford the $8 medication. The clerk split the medication into 2 one month supply. The little man then proudly paid the required $4 in coins; quarters, dimes, nickels, even pennies. Humbled at what I witnessed I just stood there unable to speak. I, like many are so blessed but often lose sight of the fact. I don't have a mansion or billions in the bank. The past year we got ourselves into debt being careless and frivolous. A year ago my daughter died. Yet, I am blessed. I have a home to sleep in, clothing to keep warm, enough food to eat, and money to purchase our needs in addition to a few wants. More importantly, I have a beautiful family and lovely friends, for which I've thankful. Thank you Payton for helping me see what is in front on me. Thank you all the inspirational women I've 'met' on this road.

Didn't Expect This

I've come to accept Tatum's comments about Payton. But this? From a three-year-old? Not expected!

"I not get to see Baby Payton". Tears!

Insight, Clarity, Or Conspicous?

For days I contemplated cancelling, reluctant to have another acupuncture treatment. Despite which, lying on the table, nettles protruding from my body, I silently asked for healing or what He felt was needed. My thoughts went to recent dreams. Throughout both pregnancies I had reoccurring dreams of my childhood home. In each dream, the event was different but always took place in the home I was raised. Night, after night. At the time, I believed the dreams were my subconscious making sense of the parenting received and changes I hoped to make. Seemed logical. Only problem with that logic is a few months ago the dreams returned. Each night the dream is different the only commonality being the home.

California Psychics blog states, "such dreams usually occur when you’re dealing with a problem that stems from your upbringing. After all, your childhood is where you developed the foundation of who you are... Dreams of your childhood home can reveal an ingrained belief or attitude that is keeping you from manifesting what you want..."

Last night I went to bed prepared to hear the message my subconscious is sending. To my surprise, I didn't dream of the home. Instead, I dreamed a male cousin came to visit. My older brother was moving back to FL with the cousin, more specific back to our childhood home. In the dream I was asked to move back but refused. Different dream, different place; yet similar in theme.

As acupuncture continued I processed (what I believe) the meaning of the dream; Letting go. I need to let go of the past and the hold it has. Let go of guilt, responsibility, self-blame, self-punishment, and self-doubt. I also need to let go of control. Life is not what I planned. But it is God's plan. I need to just go with it. Stop fighting.

Logically, I know this. It’s not new information. However, emotions are rarely logical. Plus, I guess I need to hear the message often. Can I blame my father for passing along his stubbornness? Or is blaming regressing? ☺

Opening Up

I watched as Tatum climbed up my bed. Watched, not three-year-old Tatum rather one-year-old Tatum. I tried to remember two-year-old Tatum climbing my bed... but couldn't. At one, she graped the sheet and sort of pulled herself up. At three, she stands on the bed frame and hoists one leg over at a time. At two? I don't know how she crawled up at two. Last year is a blur. It's as if I was watching another person, rather than living. It feels like I have missed an entire year of life. 

Many BLM's blogs include other children. I do too, a little. However, it never feels quite right for me. Also, I want to share Tatumisms with others without them reading my personal thoughts and feelings. For that reason I started a family blog several months ago. We sent the link to our extended family and friends. We want them to know spunky Tatum, the good, and yes the sad. But here, this is my private place. That is the reason my profile does not list my blog names- I don't want extended family reading this blog and I don't want the only blog listed be our family blog.  

Is it weird I have no qualms about sharing personal thoughts and our family life with people I've never actually met? Yet, I do not share personal thoughts with most family in my life? I even feel guilty for not sharing my family life with you sooner, when you share so much. Strange? Strange or not I want to open our family blog to those of you interested. Team Coleman Please, know I understand if you choose not to read.

At times it can be hard to read happy events. Myself, there are days (or moments) when I want the comfort of reading another feels the same darkness I feel. Then there are days when I need to read words of encouragement, that life continues, or see happy faces. Plus, lets be honest I'm not the best blogger ☺and some information may be repeated. 

Payton's Day

I haven't been a good blogger. My only excuse is my thoughts have been all over the map, I cannot corral them to one location let alone type them. Catch up, I will (or so I'm telling myself).

Dustin and I had off the 20th and 21st of January. The only plans we made were to visit Payton's "special place" and have family and friends over for dinner on the 22nd. Dustin wanted to keep busy by repainting our kitchen. I didn't have the energy but wanted a seat for the entry way. We ended up shopping, painting, and decorating for two and a half days. I'm happy with how we spent Payton's days, more than happy. I love the final product. Our home is warm and inviting. Every where is evidence of a family with Two beautiful, loved daughters. Next to pictures of Tatum are pictures reminding us of Payton. Along side Tatum's art work are symbolic reminders of Payton. I'm at peace with our house, our home, which I didn't believe possible. Payton is present in our home for all to see, which is important.

Our family and friends loved our home. Many commented on how beautifully Payton was included. Everyone loved our footprint picture taken in Cabo. Yet, what was loved most was the picture of Dustin holding Payton placed between his father's day card. Others were impressed we (it was Dustin) weren't afraid to display his emotion, vulnerability, and pain. One friend thanked us for allowing her to be a part of that moment. I was brought to tears of pride and love for my wonderful husband and his love for his daughters.

 

The evening was exactly what we needed- family and friends spending an evening remembering and honoring our daughter's short but meaningful life. Family and friends, with us wrote messages on balloons, released the balloons, shared a meal, and engaged in lovely conversation. The hardest moments were when Tatum wrote her message and after she released her balloon, yelled "my sister go to Heaven". 

A Mother's Prayer

A Mother's Prayer (Affirmation After Miscarriage)
by Stacey Dinner-Levin

In this time of loss I call upon my spirit within to guide me to my strength so that I may find peace and completion.
I will use this strength to demand of myself and others my need to grieve completely, for this will be my first step to healing.
During my time of grief I will seek guidance not only from my inner spirit but from loving persons who may offer wisdom and comfort.
I need to understand that the soul as well as the physical body needs healing and to pay attention to this. I will learn to accept that the soul may never heal completely.
I will learn to live not in fear and once again see beauty in my world and purpose in my existence.
In spite of my new knowledge that things happen that cannot be controlled, I must call upon the places within me that tell me I do have control over much of my life and use this control to aid my healing.
Let me recognize the gift in my ability to conceive and carry life however briefly.
Let me take joy in my ability to love so deeply and desire to nurture a soul unbeknownst to me.
Let me find healing in the belief that this soul knew my love for it and that that love helped it to pass to another place.
Let me honor this short life not only with my love but in finding meaning in its existence.
Let me recognize this meaning in not only my ability to survive, but in my fullest appreciation of all the moments motherhood will bring me, along with my deeper compassion and sisterhood to other women who've experienced loss.
Let a part of this soul be reflected in the spirit of my future children, born or adopted, so that I may know it through them.
I will listen to and trust the place in my deepest heart that tells me I will once again be reunited with this soul and will fulfill the need to hold it in my arms.
I will help myself to feel comfort in the knowledge that there is a star in heaven that belongs to me.

Letter to Baby Payton

Tatum wanted to "write" on a piece of card stock. As she was "writing" she said, "My write letter for my sister. My write letter for Baby Payton. Next time I spend letter with balloon to Baby Payton in Heaven". As she continued I heard, "My love my sister. My miss Baby Payton bery much. P-A-Y (spelled) for Baby Payton". She then song "Happy birthday to Baby Payton".

She then came over to show me, "My write circle for Baby Payton. My write heart too. My love Baby Payton bery much. My sister died and go to Heaven. I want to go to Heaven see Baby Payton. When my get big like mommy my go to Heaven?". No, when you get bigger, much bigger than mommy.

When Does It Stop?

It is difficult to think bad news will ever stop. I've had menstrual like cramping in my lower abdomen for a few months. I'm not one to run to the doctor with every ache and pain but this seemed different. The OB/GYN completed a physical exam and PAP, both were normal. However, the sonogram showed "interesting results". Two fibroids and two complex cysts (one on each ovary) were found. I'm in a bit of shock. I'm feel, well... defeated. I want to be hopeful, but my brain is in catastrophize mode thus I have to fight to reframe thoughts. Exhausting! For some reason all this makes me miss Payton even more. It makes sense I guess, because I feel like an even bigger failure. My second child died and now I may not be able to have another. My dead child may be the last.

The hardest part is for now it's wait and see what a second sonogram reveals. One month feels like a life time.

Missing You

Precious Payton,
I cannot believe it has been one year since I held you in my arms... One year since I said hello and goodbye. Instead of planning a birthday party, I will be decorating your grave.
Some days losing you seems unreal, like a bad dream, a figment of my imagination. Some days the pain in my heart feels strong enough to kill me. You were apart of our life for 36 wonderful weeks. Your kicks woke me. We shared secrets while driving. Nausea was your way of telling me you were hungry. You kicked to let your father know you were listening. Your sister kiss my belly goodnight.
Payton, your dad, sister and I miss you so much. We wish you were here. Not a moment goes by that you are not in my thoughts. Whatever I do, everywhere I go, I'm reminded you are not here with us. There is a bedroom with an empty crib... An infant seat missing from the backseat of my car... Pictures of you are missing... Diapers, bottles, bibs, toys left unused.
I try to remember we will be together soon, but it does not always help.
Loving and missing you always,
Mommy

Full of Woe

I woke in panic. Remembering Wednesday one year ago; waking to contractions, feeling anxious all day, and then... As I went about the morning the flashbacks started. Dropping Tatum off at day care. Driving home from the doctor's office. Pulling into our garage. Unable to exit the car. Walking upstairs. Seeing Payton's door. Seeing my reflection in a mirror. I didn't expect today the 19th to be hard. Still I cannot stop thinking of the events that happened Wednesday 2010. Cannot stop feeling the pain, the despair of the events of last year.

Cannot stop the guilt. My body, me, I'm responsible for killing Payton. My job was the protect her from harm. I failed. I failed Payton. I failed to bring Tatum's sister home. I failed to give Dustin a healthy, living second daughter. My heartbreaks for their pain.

It breaks my heart more to hear Dustin is having similar thoughts, remembering his Wednesday meeting last year when he got my call.

I am glad I decided to work from home today, changing at least one situation.

Oh, I forgot to mention when Dustin turned on the TV rather than the Disney channel he accidentally turned to one TLC's baby series. Later, I turned on the same TV but Disney, the last channel watched was not on. You guessed it, one of TLC's baby shows was on. How the HECK? Way to kick me when I'm down.  

Regrets

Lately, my mind races... my heart weighs a thousand pounds... consumed with regrets. Regretting decisions I made during childhood and adolescence. Hating the decisions I've made as an adult. Questioning if I am capable of making a good decision. Then this morning on the radio, the DJs read an email from a listener. The listener asked if there is true love. Two of the DJs debated their notion of love. A third DJ's (I usually disagree with his opinions) comment was a bit profound. He said true love is not romance and excitement. True love is deciding to make the relationship work regardless of the bad times. He said there are more bad times than good (he is so optimistic), but if you stick around for the good it is always worth it.

His opinion made me realize my regrets are pointless. If a single decision was made differently I would not be where I am. I would not have met my husband. I would not be married to a wonderful man. I would not know true love. I would not know the unconditional love of motherhood. I would not have Tatum. Losing Payton will never feel okay. I miss her every day. I think about her every day. I long for her every day. Yet, the only regret that is mine was being blissfully ignorant and trusting my doctors.

365 Day Challenge, Finding Hope

With the new year, 365 day challenges seem to be on blogs every where. From photography, exercising, weight loss, going green, trying something new, etc. The idea is simple (at least it sounds so), to do/notice something every day and post it. The idea of a challenge is nice. But honestly, I'm to lazy to commit to exercising or taking a photo daily. And how can posting a photo a day improve my life? Yes it sounds fun, but I don't see how it would help.

Hopelessness, not seeing the value, there it is. Feeling hopeless is what I'm struggling with. January 20, 2010 just after 3:30pm my life crumbed as I laid there staring at screen that didn't show a beating heart, only darkness, blackness. All my hopes and dreams for this life were ripped from my heart. Since then I haven't hoped or dreamed. I know I'm not unusually for this feeling, yet I still don't like it. Therefore, I'm challenging myself to find hope. Wikipedia defines hope as "a belief in a positive outcome related to events and circumstances in one's life".

I challenge myself to find Hope in this world... Hope in life after this world... Hope in others (non-BLM)... Hope in my life... Hope in a future

Every day I will do or notice at least one thing and post. Already, I'm already behind, but from this point I will give it my best.    

Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come.- Anne Lamott

Well I am starting from the darkness place one could imagine.

Hope is the grief's best music.- Author Unknown

Please grief help me hear music again.

Click on the 365 Days of Hope page to the right to follow the journey.