This Is My Life

(Thought I'd throw in one of my more attractive pics ;)
I remember that Sunday morning last year. It was one of my lowest. On top of nearing the dreaded one-year mark of Elle's death, I had gotten some bad news the day before that I was trying desperately to shake off. Oblivious to it all, Cy was having fun snapping pictures with my phone.


Ever since Elle died, I have wondered and even insisted on thinking along these lines: "But—this isn't my life! How could this be my life?"

The other night as I talked to a friend who had lost her little boy, I wondered at the strange state our lives are in. As I drove home, I asked myself, "Whose life am I living?"

And suddenly I knew.

I'm living the life of Elle's mom.






Elle is mine, and I am hers. Anything she endures must be endured by me, because we are eternally linked.

 [Elle's hospital stay with RSV at age 2]

And, I wouldn't have it any other way.

I actually felt my paradigm shift.


After nearly two years, I can finally claim this life as my own.