Mothers day will always be a difficult day. There is just no getting around it. I miss my Noah each and every day, but today is especially tough. When everything is focused on the relationships between mothers and their children, I am even more aware of everything that this day, or any other day, can never be.
Thank you to my wonderful hubby for putting together this beautiful video for me today...
Longing for my son...
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Friday, April 06, 2012
"All I know is I'm not home yet.
This is not where I belong.
This is not where I belong.
Take this world and give me Jesus.
This is not where I belong."
Easter...a holiday filled with such hope and promise always brings me to tears. The little white basket sits empty...another holiday without Noah. I miss him so very much...my heart aches to hold him...to see him one more time. The longing can be so overwhelming. But the promise of the cross fills me with hope.
This life is fleeting...temporary...One day I will be home.
I can hardly wait...
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Cherished
This has been a difficult post to write, as I am having trouble putting into words what this means to me. Once again, our Noah has been honored in a very special way, by people who mean more to me than they will ever know.
Very recently a beautiful new space opened up at the Assiniboine Park, called the Qualico Family Centre. There is a pathway in front of the centre, where memory stones could be purchased.
The staff of CH5 thoughtfully purchased a stone in memory of Noah...

One word...cherished...
We are so touched by this very special gift. Words cannot express how it warms my heart to know that Noah was loved by the staff that came to mean so much to us.
One word...cherished...
Thank you CH5!! Thank you for this wonderful gift. Thank you for treating our family like your family. Thank you for caring for me and helping me through many lonely days and nights. Thank you for caring for our Noah so well.
Thank you for cherishing our son.
Thank you for cherishing our son.
Wednesday, February 01, 2012
Blessed
It's been a long time since I've posted here. Life has been busy and full. And lately, I no longer seem to know what to write here. My grief has become much more private. That doesn't mean that I don't still grieve. I still grieve...I will live the rest of my life grieving. Not a day goes by where I don't think about Noah, and how I desperately wish he was still here on earth with us. No matter how much "simpler" our lives may be now, or how much freedom we have to do the things we've always wanted to do, I would give it all up for one more smile...one more cuddle. It helps to know that others still care...that his legacy lives on today.
This past week, our family was blessed with a most incredible gift. A couple of months ago, an online scrapbooking group called the Mousescrappers contacted me. They had been touched by Noah's story, and wanted to make a digital scrapbook of our wishtrip to help us preserve those precious memories. Of course, I was very excited and eagerly said "yes", so they worked with me to gather all our pictures and help me journal and organize our memories. Over 40 people worked on this project and somehow they turned our precious memories into something amazing!! It ended up turning into such a huge project, that the group made us 2 books as they could not fit it all into one. Needless to say, the books turned out FABULOUS!!! They are so much more than I ever imagined they would be and we are so thrilled with them! I wish I could put into words what this means to me. I can never thank them enough for tackling this project that I was too overwhelmed to ever attempt to do myself.



Thank you so much Mousescrappers!! You are all so incredibly talented and this means more to us than you will ever know! I am so thankful to have our memories preserved in such a beautiful way. We have had such a great time going through the books and reliving those precious moments together. I can't wait to show the books off to everyone!!
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Six
Somehow summer has disappeared and fall has quietly crept up on me, bringing with it this day once again. 6 years ago today we were given a most precious gift and I will always look on this day with bittersweet memories. It occurred to me today that we have now marked as many birthdays without Noah as we did with him here on earth. Which means that one day very soon we will have spent more days grieving than he lived. I wonder how time can be so harsh...
My little man, I miss you so much and I would give everything to have you here. I will never forget the moment you were born...my heart overflowed with awe and joy. You were beautiful and perfect to me in every way. I was so proud to be your mom.
We sent you balloons today. One blue balloon slipped away as we were getting ready to release them. With disappointment we watched it fly to the heavens, and I couldn't help but think of how your life slipped away so quickly, no matter how I tried to hang on. My selfish heart wants you here with me...I will always long for the life I had with you. But I know you are enjoying a celebration far beyond what I could ever imagine. Happy Birthday precious boy.
Love your mama.
My little man, I miss you so much and I would give everything to have you here. I will never forget the moment you were born...my heart overflowed with awe and joy. You were beautiful and perfect to me in every way. I was so proud to be your mom.
We sent you balloons today. One blue balloon slipped away as we were getting ready to release them. With disappointment we watched it fly to the heavens, and I couldn't help but think of how your life slipped away so quickly, no matter how I tried to hang on. My selfish heart wants you here with me...I will always long for the life I had with you. But I know you are enjoying a celebration far beyond what I could ever imagine. Happy Birthday precious boy.
Love your mama.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Life Changes
http://www.gktw.org/news/press/09-08-2011-volunteer-moves-to-help-gktw.asp
http://www.winnipegfreepress.com/breakingnews/family-to-volunteer-at-resort-where-son-got-wish-129938973.html
So many wonderful memories are tied up in GKTW. Our hearts will always be a part of that place. There is much that will still need to fall into place for this vision of ours to become a reality, so the articles may be a bit premature. It is exciting and terrifying all at the same time, and we really don't know how, when or even if it will all fall into place. But the paperwork ball is very slowly rolling and we are trusting in His perfect plan and guidance in all of this. I have much more to share about Kailyn and the passion and generous heart she has developed for GKTW, but I will save that for another day, for that deserves a post dedicated just to her.
Don't forget to read my last blog post and consider donating to the Children's Wish Foundation Walk for Wishes.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Walk For Wishes
In spring of 2009, Noah was granted a very special wish through the Children's Wish Foundation. Our family was able to spend a wonderful week at Disney World where Noah met his favorite character, Tigger. The Wish Foundation gave us this opportunity to create memories which we will cherish always. Now it is time to give back again...
On Oct 1, 2011, our family will be participating in the Wishmaker Walk for Wishes for the 2nd year, in support of The Children's Wish Foundation of Canada. We had a fantastic time last year with family and friends and are excited to walk again this year. Thousands of Canadians in over one hundred communities will gather together to help create the magic of a wish for children with high-risk, life threatening illnesses. These children are coping with things most of us can only imagine and the wishes they receive provide a ray of hope during a difficult time. The Children’s Wish Foundation of Canada has never refused an eligible child and has granted almost 15,000 wishes! Wish requests continue to increase and they are currently providing 3 wishes a day! I hope you will once again join me and help to create the magic of a wish by supporting my efforts in the Wishmaker Walk for Wishes.
To sponsor me online, just follow this link http://my.e2rm.com/personalPage.aspx?registrationID=1175575 and access my secure fundraising page.
You can help The Foundation even more by spreading the word about this exciting event! To encourage others to participate or to sponsor me please pass my website address along. It's easy; just paste the above link into an email. Join us on Oct 1, 2011! Visit The Children’s Wish Foundation website and learn more about how you can create the magic of a wish!
Thanks for your generous support!
On Oct 1, 2011, our family will be participating in the Wishmaker Walk for Wishes for the 2nd year, in support of The Children's Wish Foundation of Canada. We had a fantastic time last year with family and friends and are excited to walk again this year. Thousands of Canadians in over one hundred communities will gather together to help create the magic of a wish for children with high-risk, life threatening illnesses. These children are coping with things most of us can only imagine and the wishes they receive provide a ray of hope during a difficult time. The Children’s Wish Foundation of Canada has never refused an eligible child and has granted almost 15,000 wishes! Wish requests continue to increase and they are currently providing 3 wishes a day! I hope you will once again join me and help to create the magic of a wish by supporting my efforts in the Wishmaker Walk for Wishes.To sponsor me online, just follow this link http://my.e2rm.com/personalPage.aspx?registrationID=1175575 and access my secure fundraising page.
You can help The Foundation even more by spreading the word about this exciting event! To encourage others to participate or to sponsor me please pass my website address along. It's easy; just paste the above link into an email. Join us on Oct 1, 2011! Visit The Children’s Wish Foundation website and learn more about how you can create the magic of a wish!Thanks for your generous support!

Saturday, August 20, 2011
This Is Now
From the heart of a bereaved Mother... This is now
by Unknown
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life.
Normal for me is trying to decide what to take to the cemetery for Birthdays Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, Valentine's Day, July 4th and Easter.
Normal is feeling like you know how to act and are more comfortable with a funeral than a wedding or birthday party...yet feeling a stab of pain in your heart when you smell the flowers and see the casket.
Normal is feeling like you can't sit another minute without getting up and screaming, because you just don't like to sit through anything.
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.
Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.
Normal is having the TV on the minute I walk into the house to have noise, because the silence is deafening.
Normal is staring at every child who looks like he is my child's age. And then thinking of the age he would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my "normal".
Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child's memory and his birthday and survive these days. And trying to find the balloon or flag that fit's the occasion. Happy Birthday? Not really.
Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight of something special my child loved. Thinking how he would love it, but how he is not here to enjoy it.
Normal is having some people afraid to mention my child.
Normal is making sure that others remember him.
Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.
Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.
Normal is taking pills, and trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health depends on it.
Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.
Normal is disliking jokes about death or funerals, bodies being referred to as cadavers, when you know they were once someone's loved one.
Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, but someone stricken with grief over the loss of your child.
Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feel with chat buddies who have also lost a child.
Normal is feeling a common bond with friends on the computer in England, Australia, Canada, the Netherlands and all over the USA, but yet never having met any of them face to face.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.
Normal is not listening to people make excuses for God. "God may have done this because..." I love God, I know that my child is in heaven, but hearing people trying to think up excuses as to why healthy children were taken from this earth is not appreciated and makes absolutely no sense to this grieving mother.
Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry or if there is any food.
Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have three children or two, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my child is in heaven. And yet when you say you have two children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your child.
Normal is avoiding McDonald's and Burger King playgrounds because of small, happy children that break your heart when you see them.
Normal is asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours and asking if there even is a God.
Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.
And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal".
by Unknown
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life.
Normal for me is trying to decide what to take to the cemetery for Birthdays Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, Valentine's Day, July 4th and Easter.
Normal is feeling like you know how to act and are more comfortable with a funeral than a wedding or birthday party...yet feeling a stab of pain in your heart when you smell the flowers and see the casket.
Normal is feeling like you can't sit another minute without getting up and screaming, because you just don't like to sit through anything.
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.
Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.
Normal is having the TV on the minute I walk into the house to have noise, because the silence is deafening.
Normal is staring at every child who looks like he is my child's age. And then thinking of the age he would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my "normal".
Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child's memory and his birthday and survive these days. And trying to find the balloon or flag that fit's the occasion. Happy Birthday? Not really.
Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight of something special my child loved. Thinking how he would love it, but how he is not here to enjoy it.
Normal is having some people afraid to mention my child.
Normal is making sure that others remember him.
Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.
Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.
Normal is taking pills, and trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health depends on it.
Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.
Normal is disliking jokes about death or funerals, bodies being referred to as cadavers, when you know they were once someone's loved one.
Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, but someone stricken with grief over the loss of your child.
Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feel with chat buddies who have also lost a child.
Normal is feeling a common bond with friends on the computer in England, Australia, Canada, the Netherlands and all over the USA, but yet never having met any of them face to face.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.
Normal is not listening to people make excuses for God. "God may have done this because..." I love God, I know that my child is in heaven, but hearing people trying to think up excuses as to why healthy children were taken from this earth is not appreciated and makes absolutely no sense to this grieving mother.
Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry or if there is any food.
Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have three children or two, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my child is in heaven. And yet when you say you have two children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your child.
Normal is avoiding McDonald's and Burger King playgrounds because of small, happy children that break your heart when you see them.
Normal is asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours and asking if there even is a God.
Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.
And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal".
Friday, July 29, 2011
Two Years
Thank you to those who have remembered our Noah and our family today. The flowers, cookie bouquet and emails were very appreciated and brightened our day.
I have been struggling for a while about what to post here today, as we mark two years of life without Noah. Some days it still completely takes my breath away to think that he is really gone for the rest of my life here. Even after two years the pain is still so present. Time has given salve to the wounds, but they are still there and still so very deep. Many days I need to work to block the memories out, or they can completely overwhelm me. I pick my moments to remember when I can...when I feel strong enough. But sometimes the memories come out of nowhere and still completely take my breath away. With time I am slowly learning how to navigate through those moments.
Today marks two years since the worst day of our lives...the day that changed everything. Every moment of that one day is seared into my memory. I will never forget the fear and terror of the morning as we stood by helplessly, watching the PICU team do everything they could to try and save our son. Or that early afternoon when we knew that everything had been tried and there was nothing more to do but let go...watching his heartbeat disappear on the monitor...the weight of Noah and the coolness of his skin as I held his lifeless body...the stunning rainbow in the sky on that surreal drive home from the hospital. Once again we have been at a bit of a loss as to what to do to mark this day. It doesn't seem right to crawl back into bed, or to simply go about our normal routines. Somehow the day must still be acknowledged. Although today is a reminder of sadness and loss for us, for Noah, it marks a day of rejoicing and freedom...his heavenly birthday. and we can't even begin to imagine the celebration he is having!! I am convinced that he is enjoying all the fabulous goodies that he never tasted on earth (with the yumminess factor infinitely multiplied of course!). So today we chose to celebrate with food and fun, just as Noah would want it. The kids spent the day at day camp and Brad and I enjoyed a lovely breakfast out at Cora's. After day camp, we had a fun family evening out at the movies, topped off with a yummy birthday cake. A visit to Noah's grave with some time to share a few memories completed our evening.
Oh my precious little boy...I would give anything to turn back time for just one more smile. Missing you today and every day. Who knew that such a little man could change so many lives. Today we celebrate your life. A life lived with so much courage and joy...you are my inspiration to be a better person.
Always and forever your "mama".
Till we meet again...
Till we meet again...
I have been struggling for a while about what to post here today, as we mark two years of life without Noah. Some days it still completely takes my breath away to think that he is really gone for the rest of my life here. Even after two years the pain is still so present. Time has given salve to the wounds, but they are still there and still so very deep. Many days I need to work to block the memories out, or they can completely overwhelm me. I pick my moments to remember when I can...when I feel strong enough. But sometimes the memories come out of nowhere and still completely take my breath away. With time I am slowly learning how to navigate through those moments.
Today marks two years since the worst day of our lives...the day that changed everything. Every moment of that one day is seared into my memory. I will never forget the fear and terror of the morning as we stood by helplessly, watching the PICU team do everything they could to try and save our son. Or that early afternoon when we knew that everything had been tried and there was nothing more to do but let go...watching his heartbeat disappear on the monitor...the weight of Noah and the coolness of his skin as I held his lifeless body...the stunning rainbow in the sky on that surreal drive home from the hospital. Once again we have been at a bit of a loss as to what to do to mark this day. It doesn't seem right to crawl back into bed, or to simply go about our normal routines. Somehow the day must still be acknowledged. Although today is a reminder of sadness and loss for us, for Noah, it marks a day of rejoicing and freedom...his heavenly birthday. and we can't even begin to imagine the celebration he is having!! I am convinced that he is enjoying all the fabulous goodies that he never tasted on earth (with the yumminess factor infinitely multiplied of course!). So today we chose to celebrate with food and fun, just as Noah would want it. The kids spent the day at day camp and Brad and I enjoyed a lovely breakfast out at Cora's. After day camp, we had a fun family evening out at the movies, topped off with a yummy birthday cake. A visit to Noah's grave with some time to share a few memories completed our evening.
Oh my precious little boy...I would give anything to turn back time for just one more smile. Missing you today and every day. Who knew that such a little man could change so many lives. Today we celebrate your life. A life lived with so much courage and joy...you are my inspiration to be a better person.
Always and forever your "mama".
Till we meet again...
Till we meet again...
Sunday, May 08, 2011
Mothers Day
Mothers Day is a tough day. I think that no matter how many years go by, it will always be one of those days that will always be, well, just plain crappy. Although I love spending the day with my other kids, the void in our family is so much more noticable on a day like today. This year Brad was away in BC on business. But Kailyn & Joshua did what they could to make the day special. I awoke to them creeping in my bedroom, with some rewarmed pancakes they had found in the fridge with fruit and yogurt. Along with that came the traditional homemade cards from school of course. It was very cute and I was touched.
We decided to laze around in bed, skip church (another place I don't particularly enjoy being on mother's day anymore), and instead, head to the cemetery so I could spend the morning with all of my children. We always enjoy seeing what others have left at the grave. I love that there are others out there who care enough to stop by the cemetery. Thank you!! We spent some time cleaning up the grave a bit, and had some fun taking pictures. It turned out to be a beautiful morning in between rain showers.



I miss my little Noah so very very much. I miss having my identity wrapped up in him and being known as "Noah's mom". Oh how I long just to hear him call me "mama" just one more time! I am so very proud that I was given the precious gift of mothering such a beautiful child on this earth. Those years are a treasure to be carried with me always.
Miss you buddy.
Always and forever your mama...
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