When life only gives us a second... Heaven gives us eternity.

My whole life I never had to face death of any kind. Well besides your occasional goldfish dying. Wait... nope... even my goldfish from 3rd grade, just passed a few years ago. Good ol' Bam-bam. {Pebbles didn't live as long, but still lasted alot longer than the typical 3day life span they usually have after you bring them home from a pet store.}


My great-grandmother passed away when I was really little. When your really little you can't really grasp the concept of what that means. And ofcourse small children are very resilient. Take my kids for example, loosing Savannah hasn't really shattered their world. They miss her, and they love her, yes. But they never met her face to face. To them they had the idea that a new baby was coming to live with us, and now they just have pictures of their baby sister. Which still makes her real to them, but not in the same way if they had met her. And for that I am grateful.

But other than my grandmother, and a pet rabbit, mortality was an unknown feeling to me.

The summer of 2004, Koady's grandma passed away. A beautiful woman. She had a heart of gold, and was a phenomenal Christian. Grandma Linda was the first funeral I had ever been to in my life. I watched as my husband said goodbye to someone that meant the world to him. He told funny stories about when he graduated high school, Grandma Linda gave him a complete tupperware set. Being a rebellious highschool graduate, he thought to himself, "gee... tupperware, you really shouldn't have." Now knowing, it was things like that, that showed him even in something as simple as a graduation gift, his grandma didn't have to speak a word to teach him life lessons. Sure the easy gift most anyone gives at graduation is money. {And we all know teenagers LOVE money.} But instead she gave him a gift that he could really use in the real world. Saving food=Saving money. We still miss her quaint little laugh, and the smile she would give when she would get caught up in her family.

Grandma Linda was my first taste of bitter goodbye.

The summer of 2008, we recieved a phone call that Koady's grandpa had passed away after a long battle with colon cancer. He was a delightful man. {Awnry, but delightful!} In the early years of Koady's life his grandma, and his grandpa had practically raised him. It was heartbreaking. Grandpa Bob was one of the first people who accepted me into "that" side of the family. And in an instant, he was gone. Who would we sit around and watch movies with, who would we giggle at when they got all worked up over, well whatever striked the mood at that instant? We dressed up in our finest attire and once more sent away another loved one to sit beside the Lord.


Although I loved each one of these "grandparents" as my own, I still had yet to find what it meant to loose one of my own.


July of this year, Koady, sadly, lost his other grandfather. He lived in Kentucky and we hadn't seen him in a few years. Koady, who grew up in California with his dad and step-mom, holds many memories of special trips he would get to take with his grandpa and grandma on his mothers side during summer visits. Another special man. But again, he wasn't mine.


Then, I experienced a loss that I really could call mine. My daughter. My eight day old daughter. A loss no parent should ever have to go through. But I made it through, and I will continue on. Because that is what Savannah would want. And although we think in a moment of death that there really isn't anyway we can continue on, a few days pass.... Then a few days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months, and months eventually turn into years. Though our loved ones aren't here with us physically, they live with us every second of the days, weeks, months, and years as we carry them in our hearts. 

A second death of mine approaches every so quickly.

{And for those dog people out there, I am sure you can understand...} 

We got my first offical pet when I was in fourth grade. He was the runt of the litter, and to me, it was love at first sight. He could almost fit in the palm of your hand, and was every puppy seeking little girl's dream. It had taken years of convincing to finally get my dad on board. And instantly {thanks to friends of my parents} he became mine. He looked like a little bundle of Christmas fudge... and that is exactly what he was called. Our Fudge.

{July 31st, 2010-Soaking up the Sunshine at The Cabin in Medicine Lake}

{July 4th, 2006-Watching the Fireworks}

This July 1st, that tiny ball of Cockerspaniel mix turned 14years old. {He's not so tiny now... he's actually kinda fat.} He has heart disease, and it is quickly leading to heart failure. My mother, who when it comes to her little old dog, believes money is no object when it comes to keeping Fudge healthy and here as long as possible. He is on the last option of pills for his heart failure, and once he goes back into it, my mom will have to make the same hard decision I once had to make. When that happens, I will be there... and I will say goodbye to another "loved one." And as my mother holds a peice of her heart in her arms as he drifts out of this world, I will think back to the wonderful feeling of being the one. The one who is holding their body as their soul meets Christ. And when Fudge is jumping and running towards the Lord, Savannah will be on God's side holding his hand awaiting another member of our family....

...Till we can all be together again.

{July 22nd, 2007-Pregnant with Brody}