Thank you everyone that donated and helped kept Sara's memory alive. Please take time to read Jen's post.
Posted by Jen last night
On most days, my incredible sister, Ali, keeps the Sara's Smiles page up and running with uplifting stories, quotes, and information. Today, on the 10th anniversary of Sara's passing, she "reserved the space" for me to share what's on my mind. I spent the day with my husband, son, and daughter but I did step away for some quiet time alone to sit at my computer and see what thoughts would come together. After dusting off the cobwebs, this is what spilled out...
Writing has always kept my thoughts and emotions in order. It’s been so long since I’ve sat down to do this. Maybe that’s why I barely keep it together these days. I know it doesn’t look like it from the outside (my grandmother occasionally says, “A little powder and paint can make you what you ain’t.), but on the inside I am often stifling a scream. I’ve let this go for too long, this housekeeping of the mind.
Ten years, to be exact. Today is ten years since I last held my baby. And the day I stopped writing nearly daily. What could I write? In so many ways, every day became the same. The same longing for Sara’s round, warm cheek against mine, the same slogging through the day, the same fear and dread of time passing, creating a wider and wider chasm between us. Time doesn’t heal; it just forces us to keep up with life as it continues to happen.
All that happening of life pulled me in so many directions that I didn’t know which way to face, let alone how to organize it into manageable thought. It felt as though I had lost my ability to multi-task. Cancer was one-track, demanding vigilance and expending all energy to stay on course- a virtually impossible task. My concentration had become laser-focused, my peripheral vision fuzzy. As my vision broadened again, I froze like a deer in headlights. I knew I had to move forward, but didn’t always know how.
It is at this “place in our story” that I am truly at a loss for words. It is impossible to describe the type and magnitude of love that swept me along in its current. It is the same love that banished the concept of loneliness for Sara despite her physical isolation, kept her fighting spirit in tip-top shape, celebrated every strength and victory, filled our hospital room with anything a child might need to get through the day, and bathed us in a warm glow that had its own unique medicinal powers. My gratitude for this love knows no bounds.
Ten years ago, May 12 fell on the day after Mother’s Day. Sara helped me pick out the wrapping paper we used to wrap gifts. She stayed up late with me as we prepared to host our entire family as we’ve done for many years. On Mother’s Day morning, she slipped into unconsciousness. Each member of the family spent time alone with Sara and many slept over that night. The next day, friends from every facet of our lives streamed in to join our family and surround Sara with the love that had become part of her identity. She passed peacefully in my arms amidst many of the most beautiful hearts I could ever wish to assemble.
This was a gift that I have treasured every day since. These are the people who inspired Sara’s Smiles and helped us create it. In the days, months, and years that have passed, “angels” have continued to walk into our lives and expand that circle beyond what I could have imagined. To everyone who is connected with Sara’s Smiles in any and all ways, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for honoring my daughter’s memory and celebrating her spirit. You keep my heart patched together and Sara’s spirit rippling outward. As I said before, my gratitude knows no bounds.
