Ladybug Landing

I am often thinking about what I would say to Mckenna if she showed up one day. I wonder how I would react. I am sure I would stand there in disbelief that I was staring at the face I have missed all these years. I want to write her letters but I so often push them aside because I seem to not have the words. The other night I decided to finally write her a letter because her birthday is approaching. It seemed like a fitting time to actually sit down and write to her. I will keep most of my letter private but wanted to share a couple parts that seem to deeply affected me. This time of year is always hard but this year seems to be kicking my ass. I can never predict how the holidays or her birthday are going to affect me. I now am trying to just go with what I am feeling and not try so hard to feel "happy" "jolly" "cheerful" when that is not how I feel deep down in my bones. If I am sad I am sad, if I don't want to participate I'm not going to

I have been noticing it more and more and have had a couple conversations about social media and the persona people put out there lately. Social media is an interesting thing. Many times we post about all the good, the perfect picture, the perfect moment in time and yet the behind the scenes of that perfect moment or perfect picture are never disclosed. For example, how many shots it took to get the perfect picture, about the fight that happened just before the "perfect moment". The smiles are deceiving and don't always share the whole story (Trust me I can turn on a smile in a picture and no one would know the pain I am feeling under the smile.) Why is it that when we post about the realness of our lives or how we are really  doing it is seen as weakness or annoying? How people place judgment on a post that is too personal  as if they have never experienced a rough day? Who cares if someone shares their real life, I would rather see authenticity. I too am guilty o

"I'm so proud of you honey" my mom would say. Thank you I would say back to her, be shy about my accomplishment and move on. I never knew how much I would miss those words coming from her. But I do....a lot. For whatever reason I am stuck on this word proud. You know that feeling you get when you are proud of someone? The immense joy you feel, the smile on their face shining through as they see how proud you are of them? Or the feeling you get when someone is proud of you. How it makes you feel proud of yourself. How it makes you feel loved. I love/d that feeling and yet I am often hit with grief when I see it around  me. I think how I will never hear my mom tell me how proud she is of me or how I will never get the chance to show Mckenna my pride in her. I love/hate seeing parents proud of their children. It's a beautiful thing and yet a hit to the gut. My mom was so full of pride in both of her children and was never afraid to tell us. When I graduated with

How does one discover who they are? How do you find yourself when all your identities have been stripped from you? I have found myself struggling with who I am, knowing the core of my soul. Who am I? This is what I know about me.... I am a care taker. Loving and caring more for those I love deeply than I care and love myself. I would literally die for those I love and be ok with that as long as they are safe and alive. I would suffer just so someone else doesn’t have to suffer. I would go with out to give to another. My heart hurts for animals, children, elderly, those who are hurting. I want to help, I want to fix, I want to be there. All of these things sounds like I am a beautiful soul with so much to give this world and yet I feel like I have no purpose in this world, that I am not good enough, smart enough to be what I need to be for others. I am a people pleaser. I am so afraid of hurting others that I would do anything to not hurt them so I often don’t say anythin

You know, we all oppose animal cruelty. But sometimes we forget that animals on farms suffer and feel pain like all other animals. They, too, deserve to be protected from harm and cruelty.  -- Charlotte Ross When I was a little girl I always felt pain when I saw an animal hurting or even felt bad if I accidentally stepped on an ant hill. I would feel terrible. I didn't use my voice back then to stand up for the animals. For example my Nana had a pig. She warned me what was going to happen to the pig and to not get too attached. Well I ended up naming her Daisy and gave her bathes, loved on her and took care of her. I actually don't remember the moment she was taken to be slaughtered but my family did not help. We would be eating and they would say you know we are eating Daisy then proceed to say things like, "Ashley why did you let them kill me." I'm surprised I didn't become a vegetarian right then and there. I didn't even know what that was and

Mckenna's "school" picture (possibly, who knows, I don't know, maybe) The first day of school pictures have started to fill my FB feed. I have been mostly avoiding FB and I was doing it naturally without even thinking about it. I know what I will see and I know how it will make me feel so I avoid looking when I can. I can feel her absence as she should be starting 2nd grade this year. No school shopping, no clothes shopping, no getting school supplies, no excitement to start a new year with her friends, I will  never do these things with Mckenna.  I don't even know what it would be like to have a 7 year old let alone a child going to school. How is it that she would be starting second grade? How in the world is it possible that I would have a 7 1/2 year old little girl?? Seriously blows my mind. I am sure I would feel this way if she were here, but it's different when you've never got to experience each milestone. When Mckenna was going to start

I often find myself longing for things I can't have. Not material things. I long for Mckenna, I long to mother Mckenna, I long to have my mom, I long to be mothered. Things I won't ever have again...  Even before my mom died I longed to have my mom. My sober mom. I longed to have a mother daughter relationship.I actually had a glimpse of what this looked like for us when she was sober for a year and a half. When she started drinking again after that year and a half I was absolutely devastated. My heart shattered yet again and this time it would never be put back together. I would spend the next months and years of my mothers life angry, hurt, sad, distant, cold towards her. I wanted her to get sober and stay sober not just for me but for her. In that year and a half I got to see my mom again. We laughed till we cried, she would be my mom and make me breakfast, dinner, lunches for when I stayed at her apt before work. I was able to be the daughter and what a wonderful f

To have more children or to not have more children has been the question that has been coming up for many weeks. Especially over the last few weeks. I've had dreams of me being pregnant or having a baby. People have asked me if I will have more children more than normal lately. This is a tough one for me because I haven't really had the baby itch since Mckenna died. It has come up a few times but not as much as I would have thought almost 7 years later. In the beginning I couldn't think of having any more children because I didn't want more children, I wanted Mckenna. I wanted to raise Mckenna, only Mckenna. I have mostly been single for 6 years now and still have no desire to have more children. Sometimes I feel like there is something wrong with me because I don't want more children. I love children, I love babies, I love snuggles, and making them laugh, they seem to love me too, but that doesn't make me want more of my own. This could be because I ha

For several years I wanted to get Mckenna's age progression picture done. I needed, wanted to know what she would look like because my imagination would never form any other age than a 9 month old baby. I asked a friend about my need/want for this and was advised to wait, so I waited. Once the urge came on strongly again I decided to go through with it. It was expensive and I broke down and asked family and friends if they would be willing to help me raise the money and they sure did. I was able to go through with it with no regrets. I opened the picture with a trusted safe friend in case I had a melt down. To say I was nervous is an understatement. As I was communicating with the women who did her portrait I would get a physical reaction just getting an email. I was so afraid I would see it and think it didn't look like her (how I would I really know though). I let my friend see it first and her reaction was "wow" no other words spoken, just wow. When she showed

Author Unknown I am often hit with flashbacks of the day Mckenna died. It varies on which moment catches me off guard. Sometimes it is me looking down seeing her under the television, sometimes it is me pulling her out from under the television lifeless, sometimes it is me holding her as her heart stopped, each and every time these images literally knock the breath out of me. Lately I have had an image that has come up more than once in a week which is a sign that I need to sit with this image. These memories are not easy to sit with. They are very, very hard to process, work through and remember.  I asked a friend recently if I will ever look at Mckenna’s beautiful face and not see her face from the accident? She asked if I only see her face from the accident or do I see her beautiful face too, I said I see both. Right now I feel the reason I see her face from the accident when I look at her beautiful face is because that is the image that keeps popping into my head. The wa

My mom was basically an alcoholic my entire life. It wasn't until I got older that I realized she had a drinking problem. I was 13 when it became clear, more obvious. I grew up very quickly at 13. My father was diagnosed with brain cancer, initially given a month to live, dying 10 months later, my mom started drinking more heavily, her boyfriend became her focus, choosing him over us on many occasions, she got a DUI, the cops brought her home, life was getting more challenging. The older I got the worse it became.  I begged my mom to stop drinking. I wrote her letters, gave her cards, encouraged her, supported her, loved her and it wasn't enough. It couldn't be enough because she was the one who needed to believe in herself, I couldn't save her from herself. But at 13 how was I supposed to know that? At 13 you want to be the reason they get sober. I felt I could save her back then, back before I knew the darkness she carried. The darkness that possibly There wa

I would have a 7 year old, a 7 year old!! Sometimes that thought fills my heart with sadness. How could she be dead? How could my baby girl be dead? I watched a short video of her last night and it’s hard to believe that she was mine. It’s hard to believe that I gave birth to this amazing, beautiful, curious, old soul. I have often said I can’t imagine my life without Mckenna. I live everyday without her. I still cannot visualize never having her, never knowing her, never holding her, kissing her, loving her, as my life would not be the same without her ever existing. I may not have made the best decision staying with my ex husband back when I knew he cheated, however, if I had left him then I would have never had her. That is not a thought I can even begin to imagine. I would make the same choice if I had to live it again because she was worth the pain I went through all those years.  I miss my daughter, I miss being her mom, I miss my life as a her mom, she was my partne

The last few weeks my heart has been heavy missing both my sweet baby girl and my mom. Back to back I was brought back to their death days as if it had just happened, flashbacks, tears, questioning, longing, missing. Many times I am still thrown off when grief hits. Even after all this time, grief can still knock me down, bringing me to my knees with no mercy. I often find myself still resisting these moments, pushing them down, avoiding them because the pain feels almost unbearable. I judge my grief, especially when it comes to my mom. When my mom was alive, I feared her death, I feared I would find her, I feared she would die from drinking, which became a reality on June 18 th , 2013. One of my biggest fears was finding her dead. The night I found her  has been in my head the past couple weeks, replaying that moment, feeling that moment, reliving that night over and over. There are just no words to explain how finding her felt. In an instant none of the drinking matter,