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<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"In a little over an hour what was one of the most extraordinary dates of my entire life will be upon me. \u00a0It should be Hayley’s 20th Birthday. \u00a0But instead it will be a painful, brutal and in your face reminder of what is missing in my life. \u00a0I am typing through a cloud of tears. \u00a0I have been at the beach since Wednesday and barely cried. \u00a0But now that the actually turning of the clock is here I am getting more and more agitated. \u00a0Scott saw it. \u00a0He can’t handle it. \u00a0I feel like I am going to break into a million pieces at midnight. \u00a0The only thing keeping the pieces together is the overwhelming support I am receiving from everyone else. \u00a0My cousin and her daughter are here to keep a piece together. \u00a0Tomorrow my longest friend, Sara will drive almost 3 hours to be here just for the day and to hold another piece. \u00a0My brother, sister in law and two nieces will also make the drive for the day to hold their piece. \u00a0There are so many of you thinking of us and you are holding the rest of the pieces.<\/p>\n
My greatest fear is that it won’t be enough. \u00a0How do I survive the date I became a mother without the child that made that happen. \u00a0April 29, 1998 at 3:30 p.m. \u00a0Hayley Storm McCutcheon entered this world and turned my world upside down. \u00a0She brought the sunshine into my life. \u00a0Almost 4 years to the day Henry completed my universe. \u00a0I had my sun and my moon. \u00a0I cannot understand how the world keeps turning without Hayley. \u00a0As I have walked on the beach I have felt her. I can imagine her coming in to my bed at midnight like she does every single year. \u00a0She would crawl up next to me and say “guess what day it is?”. \u00a0I would say “I don’t know, Sunday?”. \u00a0And it would go on until I hugged her, said Happy Birthday, I love you more. \u00a0Just more.<\/p>\n
I would have to wait until she finally went to bed to pull out the balloons I would leave outside her door. \u00a0She knew they would be there every year and she would come out of her room with a huge smile when she saw her balloons. \u00a0The fact that I would have to wait until she was asleep and pretend she didn’t know always made me happy. \u00a0I would have carefully picked a present, ordered or made her a cake per her instructions and we would have the day scheduled down to the time we would go to dinner at either Stan’s BBQ or most years, Golden Chop Stix at Redmond Town Center. \u00a0We always sat at the same table. \u00a0She often had a friend or two with us. \u00a0She lived for tradition. \u00a0Will I ever sit at that table again. \u00a0I wonder if the owner has noticed our absence.<\/p>\n
My favorite year, was the year of the necklace. \u00a0This year I decided Scott needed to be more involved. \u00a0I gave him very specific instructions to walk to Bellevue Square from his office and pick out a necklace for her that would be just from him. \u00a0I gave him suggestions of where to go. \u00a0I even sent him about 6 different options that she would like. \u00a0He chose to ignore all of that and go to Brass Plum at Nordstroms. \u00a0He probably stopped someone and asked where in the store do I buy a necklace for my 15 year old daughter. \u00a0Well he brought it with the silver bow on the box to dinner. \u00a0She opened the box and the look on her face was priceless. \u00a0Her friend and I knew immediately what she thought of it. \u00a0She quickly hid her disdain and said how much she loved it. \u00a0But the damage was done, he knew she hated it. \u00a0I can’t blame her it was an ugly ass necklace. \u00a0It actually had feathers. \u00a0We all cracked up at the same time including Hayley. \u00a0It was so funny she told him she would treasure it always but not actually wear it. \u00a0I wonder where it is now.<\/p>\n
You know it is just a date now. \u00a0It’s not a birthday. \u00a0A birthday requires that the person be present and turn a year older. \u00a0That is what we celebrate. \u00a0Instead it will just be the date I gave birth to a perfect baby girl. \u00a0But the date seems to hold so much power over me. \u00a0I can only hope that the pieces will hold together for the next 24 hours. \u00a0How will I feel on April 30th? \u00a0Will I be relieved. \u00a0Will I feel guilty if I am relieved it is over or will I just move onto the countdown to the next big milestone. \u00a0Our lives revolve around time and dates. \u00a0I wish for just the next 24 hours that time could be more fluid that I wouldn’t need to watch the time and count the minutes until 3:30 and beyond. \u00a0Our lives are just dates lined up waiting to happen. \u00a0When you are faced with unimaginable grief, dates become your enemy.<\/p>\n
Being at the ocean this weekend is soothing. \u00a0As I sat today and watched the ocean I thought it really doesn’t matter if the day was April 28th or a Saturday. \u00a0The tide keeps going in and out every single day. \u00a0The tide does not care if it is a Saturday or a Thursday. \u00a0Those are just labels humans gave the cycles of time. \u00a0Sunday is not tangible, you can’t see it or touch it. \u00a0How do I take its power away? \u00a0Will I miss her more because it is April 29th? \u00a0Will it hurt more? \u00a0Only if I give it the power. \u00a0I wish that I could at this very moment figure out how to take the power away from a date. \u00a0But I can’t. \u00a0The tide will still be low at 6:30 am and high at noon. \u00a0At 3:30 it will be half way, not in and not out. \u00a0I feel like my grief is like the tides. \u00a0It rushes in and it slowly backs away. \u00a0The only thing I can count on is that the tide will continue until I take my last breath. \u00a0At this point I have no solution or answers. \u00a0The date is going to roll around in 45 minutes. \u00a0I can’t control it. \u00a0I can only try desperately to control my reaction to it. \u00a0Can I rise to the occasion and celebrate what was, who she was versus mourning what is missing. \u00a0Do I have the strength? \u00a0Will this be the date I finally shatter? \u00a0Only time will tell.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
In a little over an hour what was one of the most extraordinary dates of my entire life will be upon me. \u00a0It should be Hayley’s 20th Birthday. \u00a0But instead it will be a painful, brutal and in your face reminder of what is missing in my life. \u00a0I am typing through a cloud of … <\/p>\n