Lucy's final resting place

It occurred to me that we never publicly made known where Lucy's final resting place was. And so, I thought today- on the thirteenth month since she has been gone- that I would share it with you.

Lucy's death was unexpected. There was no buffer, no final days, no warning. I don't know that I can say sudden- as we had about an 8 hour window from the time we knew it was bad until she was given her last breath. In that window of time, her final resting place wasn't even a thought. But before we left the hospital, we had to make a decision. It took me less than a second to know.

Lucy was cremated.

The very idea of trying to preserve a body that had killed her from the inside out, burying it in the earth, away from me. It was never an option. Ever. The first two-and-a-half years of her life, she never slept more than a room away from me. Really 99% of that time she was at most a few feet from me. So to imagine her eternal sleep several miles, at best, from me... I couldn't do it.

I carry a part of her with me, everywhere I go. Around my neck.

The majority of the rest of her ashes are inside a panda.
A panda I'm sure you all have seen.

When I began to look at urns, nothing suited what I wanted for her. They were so hard, cold, boring. A couple of months after she passed away, I was at the bank with my mom. Through a serious of unusual circumstances Lucy came up and the banker mentioned that he had lost infant twins. Then he showed me a photo of his older three children holding their baby brothers- two build-a-bears. I knew instantly that that was what I wanted.

I wanted Lucy to be with us.
Capable of being held. Talked to. Cried with.

And so the search began for a bear that represented our Goosey. A goose was, naturally, our top choice but it didn't exist. I found a panda on their website, but unfortunately it had been discontinued. We contemplated the Hulk bear because, well, "Hulk smash!". But I just wasn't completely satisfied. A desperate call into corporate and they were able to locate a panda for us.

The kids were all involved in the creation of her panda. They did the heart wish. They helped stuff her (after minor surgery to allow the ashes we had brought with to fit). They brushed her and cleaned her. We added her amber necklaces that I had been wearing. Our Goose had finally found a resting place, right at home where she belongs. With us. As for the rest of her ashes, and maybe even this panda, I will have the children spread with me when I am once again joined with my baby girl.

Fly high, Goose. We all love you and miss your sassy little soul.

How do I live?

How do I live without you?
I want to know,
How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go,
How do I ever, ever survive

One of my favorite "love" songs, and ironically the first and only song I heard this morning. And I really do wonder, how am I living? I'm not even sure I could fully call what I am doing living, more surviving. Desperately trying to occupy every second of my day. Holding my shit together when I'm out of the house because to face reality in front of others is just too much. Every moment, my baby is on my mind. Sometimes right at the forefront of every thought and action, sometimes lingering in the background as I think about how these moments would be different if everything hadn't changed. 

My Lucy should have turned 4 yesterday.

And as I reflect on the time when each of the older three turned four- how interactive and aware they were. The little people they had become. The opinions they had formed and would now readily share. Who could she have been? What could she have done?

She was already such an amazing human. So completely herself, not working about conforming to anyone's idea of who or what she should be. The energy with which she approached every day. Never giving up. Be it as an baby, demanding attention and controlling the rest of the family. Or as a headstrong toddler- dominating over her older siblings. Or, for the brief time she was allowed, as a big sister. Finally with a little minion of her own to mold. She didn't even realize just how courageous she was. The battles she had to fight. The pain she had to endure. She didn't whine or protest. She just went to war, doing what her body knew it had to do. The word is over used, and I am a primary suspect. But my daughter, my Lucy, was truly amazing. 

And I hate that the rest of the world may never know that.

May never know what she had the potential to accomplish.

She would have moved mountains. Without a doubt.

My sweet Sunshine, I can only hope that the party they threw for you in heaven was as wonderful as the one I would have given you here. I don't know how I live without you. I'm not even sure most days that I want to. But, to give up would be no honor to you. So I press on. 

Happy 4th birthday, princess.

Our last birthday together.