Sweet Sara was laid to rest yesterday wearing a t-shirt with the words "Its not about me" emblazoned on her chest, along with a pair of jeans. I came home from the Same Day Surgery Clinic in time to rest a bit, and then made my way to the computer for her service. I couldn't get the picture, but the music, the children crying occasionally in the background, Sara's beautiful voice singing Amazing Grace, and the sermon by the priest were all mingled together for a loving tribute of our girl. And true to her word of wanting a celebration, the last song played was "Oh Happy Day." Sara style, written all over it.
My grief bubble has become more transparent. Life is marching forward, and I am beginning to have moments of clarity once again. This little guy, Crosby, has become the center of our world. He has soulful puppy dog eyes with just a hint of naughtiness lingering on the edges. We have a barrier at the top of the stairs so he won't wander off downstairs on us. So when he disappeared on me the other day? This was the last place I expected to find him... reclining on the sofa downstairs... the barrier? Completely intact. He merely takes a running leap and hurdles right over it it. What were we thinking?
This is my friend from childhood, Lisa, on your far left (seated) and her knitting group in Alaska. She just recently took the photo as they don't meet in the summer. I am still touched every time I see someone out in public wearing my hockey lace bracelet. Its pretty amazing to know that 6 months in to this fight, people still are so dedicated to me... even as far away as Alaska. I couldn't be more honored. Thank you ladies, I swelled with joy upon seeing it.
My point and shoot camera can't really do this next one justice. But for two years now, around the time of my Dad's birthday, a monarch shows up in our yard. Last year it was at my parent's house as we cleaned out Dad's things. As I grabbed Dad's cane and walker, I noticed the ease in which the butterfly flew. It dipped, it soared, it dive bombed us. And the image of my Dad having the freedom to move and breathe again in Heaven brought me such comfort that day. This year, not only was Dad on my mind, but seeing this in our front yard, reminded me of Sara and the freedom she would also gain in her heavenly home. Maybe next year, there will be TWO butterflies in my yard.