Ladybug Landing

For years I have often wondered why I am so worried about how others feel or why I felt/feel so judged when I am grieving. Where did it stem from? A couple weeks ago I had a bit of an, ah ha moment and figured out where it started (or at least I think I know). Let me give a little bit of a back story… When I was 13 my dad was diagnosed with brain cancer and died 10 months later, the day before my 14 th birthday. This was a devastating loss for me. Before his death I lived in Tucson with my Nana and Papa, my mom lived in Phx and my brother lived with our dad. We all moved back in with each other that summer of 1997. I was so excited to get the chance to see him more, stay at his house, get to know him like my siblings got to, but that was taken away when he was diagnosed the same month we moved back to Phoenix. As a 13 year old girl you are already confused, emotional, in that in between stage of a little girl and a young lady and then your dad gets sick and slowly dies righ...

I don't know if it's the time of year, the weather, the changing of seasons , or my hormones but a sadness has washed over me the last few days. A loneliness I get from time to time. A loneliness that brings me to a place where I feel like there is something wrong with me, why I feel so different than others I know. I start to question my life, I start to question me as a person and wonder why I am the way I am, I get discouraged and I feel like I am destined to be alone the rest of my life.  I am a 30 year old women who has a hard time making new friends, keeping friends, having friends my own age. I am an old soul, a mother hen, a 50 year old women in a 30 year old body. I am old fashioned, stubborn, a loner, a homebody, quiet, I get attached easy, and I am more like my mom than I ever wanted to be. I try to think to myself that maybe it is the little steps that will allow me to grow into that person I envision? Maybe I set to high of standards for myself? Maybe I a...

As I reflected on my journey yesterday I was brought back to that painful part of my past. Not just with Mckenna’s death, but everything before her death. My marriage falling apart, having to find a place to live, not making enough money to support Mckenna and myself, taking care of my mom after her surgery, packing up the house by myself, doing everything on my own because that life was no longer what he wanted. I lost everything in a matter of 3 months. I felt alone, lost and broken. Looking back I can see just how broken I was, how out of my body I was, and feeling a little bit more compassion for that 24 year old Ashley. After Mckenna’s death I felt as if I was drowning, slowly dying inside and trying to pick up the pieces of my life. The one place I felt safe was no longer safe, I distanced myself from my family, I distanced myself from my friends, I was in a dark world where I was slowly being deprived of air and suffocating.  My life seemed to be spiraling out...

Mckenna  has been gone 6 years, 6 years. I just don’t know how that happened and yet this year it feels like it hasn’t been that long. I yearn for her, long for her, and when I look at her pictures I cry, yes even 6 years later. Sometimes it is hard for me to fathom that Mckenna died, that she is buried in the ground, and that I held her when she died. Just does not seem possible. Dead and died were not a part of my vocabulary in the beginning because those words hurt my soul, they didn’t feel “right” (as if saying my daughter is dead would ever really feel “right.”) And still sometimes when I say those words my breath is taken as it is hard to believe that my child died. How she could wake up one morning and 3 hours later be fighting for her life, how 9 hours later she was in my arms as her heart stops beating, how I could go to bed that night without her? I listen to those words coming out of my mouth and they feel as if I am telling someone else’s story, a story fro...

The peace that has washed over me is so magical. I feel like a whole new person and it is such a wonderful place to be, and it has been needed for almost 6 years. In the last 6 years I have had nothing but heartache, sadness, pain, hurt, loss, a sense of worthlessness, shame and guilt that controlled my life. I hated my life, I hated me and now I am loving life, I am loving myself, and I am ready for this next chapter in my new book.  Life happens and it will continue to happen, I will have bad days which I trust will end, I will have good days which I will embrace, I will cry and allow the tears to come, I will feel pain, love, sadness, peace, joy, sorrow and know that each one is just a part of life, my life forever and always. I have been through a lot in my 30 years of life and this is the first time probably since my dad died that I feel at peace, truly at peace. Possibly my whole life. I love myself enough to become who I am meant. I can carry my grief, I can breathe,...

Now that is has been a couple days since I said goodbye to PCH I figured it was time to express just what it all means to me. I spent three years at PCH. As I look back on the last three years it is hard to believe that I survived it all. When I started at PCH I was terrified. I had some serious doubts in myself and how I was going to walk into the building where Mckenna died every shift, how I was going to be around sick children, broken children, children who are alone, children who are abused, and children Mckenna’s age. I just didn't know how I was going to handle it all and I would be lying if I said it wasn't challenging. It was one of the hardest, most challenging things I have ever done.  In the beginning I really struggled to work there. I would cry every shift, have flashbacks, I would be distant, closed off, shut down, just to survive the shift, my life, everything. I wanted to quit many times, I would look for jobs and even put in applications but I wou...

While I was with a beautiful friend this week I was taken to a place deep within my soul that I have not visited in a long time. It is not easy to visit places that I have not visited in a long time because they are so painful, yet it needs to happen from time to time. Mckenna’s story was the place, the details I don’t share often, the injuries, the images that swirl in my head but are hardly spoken came out as I sat with my beautiful friend. The injuries were discussed in detail and this brought me back to that day as if it was yesterday. The tears started and did not stop for some time as I retold parts of the story, the parts that take my breath away, the parts that should not be a part of my life, the parts that bring me to my knees. My friend asked me as I am sharing a painful part of the story, “did anyone ever say I’m sorry to you,” and this has stayed with me all week. For years I have placed the blame solely on myself. From the moment of the accident I was saying I’m so...