A letter from your late loved one.

Hi. This is your late loved one speaking. I don’t have long, so listen up because I have a lot I want to tell you.

First off, I get it.

Ever since I left this world you have missed me, and I know you’re bracing for the holidays without me. No matter what anyone says, this year’s festivities are going to be really tough.

In fact, let’s be honest, this festive season will probably suck pondwater. But then, Thanksgiving and Christmas are tough holidays for a lot of people. You’re not alone.

See, the misconception about the holidays is that they are one big party. That’s what every song on the radio claims. Each television commercial you see shows happy families clad in gaudy Old Navy sweaters, carving up poultry, smiling their perfect Hollywood teeth at the camera. But that’s not exactly reality.

In reality, fifty-eight percent of Americans admit to feeling severely depressed and anxious during November and December. In reality many folks will cry throughout the “most wonderful time of the year.”

Well, guess what? Nobody is crying up here in heaven. This place is unreal. There is, literally, too much beauty to take in. Way too much.

For starters—get this—time doesn’t even exist anymore. Which I’m still getting used to.

Right now, for all I know, the calendar year down on Earth could be 1728, 4045, 1991, or 12 BC. It really wouldn’t matter up here. This is a realm where there is no ticking clock, no schedule. Up here there is only this present moment. This. Here. Now. That’s all there has ever been. And there is real comfort in this.

I know this all seems hard to grasp, but if you were here you’d get it.

Also, for the first time I’m pain free. I feel like a teenager again in my body. You probably don’t realize how long I’ve lived with pain because I never talked about it, I kept my problems to myself because I was your loved one, and you needed me to be brave.

But pain is a devious thing. It creeps up on even the strongest person, little by little, bit by bit. Until pretty soon, pain becomes a central feature of life.

Sometimes my pain would get so bad it was all I thought about. No, I’m not saying that my life was miserable—far from it. I loved being on earth. It’s just that simply waking up each morning was getting exhausting.

But, you know what? Not anymore. In this new place, I am wholly and thoroughly happy.

But enough about me. I don’t have room to describe all the terrific things I’m experiencing, and you don’t need to hear them. Right now, you’re grieving, and what you need is a hug.

Which is why I’m writing to you. This is my hug to you. Because you’ve lost sight of me. And in fact, you’ve lost sight of several important things lately.

Death has a way of blinding us. It reorganizes the way you think, it changes you. You will never be the same after you lose someone. It messes with your inner physiology. It reorganizes you’re neurons.

But then, there’s one teensy little thing you’re forgetting:

I’m still around.

Yes, you read that correctly, I’m right here with you. No, you can’t see me. No, you can’t reach out and hold me. But did you know that one of the things I’m allowed to do as a heavenly being is hang out with you?

It’s true. I’m never far away. I’m in the room with you now, along with a big cloud of ancestors, saints, and witnesses. I’m shooting the breeze alongside you, watching you live your life, watching you raise your kids, watching your private moments of sorrow.

Here, in this new realm, I am in the perfect position to help you learn things. Which is what I vow to spend the rest of your earthly life doing, teaching you little lessons, lending you a hand when you least expect it, and desperately trying to make you smile. Actually, I’ve already been doing this stuff, you just don’t realize it.

What, you don’t believe me?

Well, wake up, pal. You know that tingle you get in your spine whenever you think of me? That’s me.

You know how, just yesterday, you had a beautiful memory when you were driving and it made you cry so hard that it actually felt good and you began to laugh through tears? Also me.

You know how sometimes when you’re all alone, preoccupied with something else, suddenly you get this faint feeling that someone is standing in the room with you? Hello? Me.

You’re not alone on this earth. You never were. You never will be. So during this holiday season, when cheerful families are getting together and making merry, and taking shots of eggnog, I’m going to be clinging to your shoulder, helping you muddle through somehow.

I’ll be making your spinal column tingle a lot, and I’ll be sending plenty of signs. Each of these signs—every single one—is code for “I love you.” So start paying attention to these hints.

Because this was one.

Shared from Emma McCartney

The duck that’ll never die…

Let me tell you a story about a duck. It’s not just any duck, you see. This is a special duck. A duck that’s been around since 1994. It’s a House of Lloyd plush quacking Christmas ducky. That’s not what makes it special… Not the brand, not the fact that it’s 29 years old. I’m going to tell you what makes it special.

This duck, which I have called Quacky Duck, (Daffy Duck’s cousin, I’m my silly child brain!) has been a Christmas joy to me and many of my cousins since he was first purchased by my Grandmom in 1994. Every Christmas season, her house would be perfectly decorated, much like the inside of a Macy’s department store on November 1st. With the magic of going to Grandmom’s for Christmas, all the lights, Santas, glitter, garland, and of course, the delicious treats, nothing brought me more joy than my beloved Quacky. Even as an adult, Grandmom would lay Quacky on the couch during December. I would giggle and give him hugs, and put my hand in his head, (he’s a puppet, okay?!?) and make him quack the most fun Christmas Carols.

Now. You can see Quacky is very special to me. Let’s fast forward to my husband, who we all know is a giant child at heart. Every time we’d visit Grandmom around Christmas, Quacky would be on the couch. He sat there in his dedicated spot just waiting for someone to make him quack his songs and give him hugs. Every year, without fail, my husband would turn into a 6 year old right before my eyes and play with Quacky. He’d always make me laugh and make Quacky kiss me. Seeing Grandmom smile at such a simple thing… A stuffed duck puppet that quacks Christmas Carols, it was precious. I knew it took her to a place in her mind where I was also young and carefree and all that mattered was that Quacky was on the couch for me, ready for me to come visit and play with him.

I could see it in her eyes, the joy that this silly duck brought me and my husband, it was multiplied a billion times in her eyes. She loved to see hubman and I sitting there laughing at this silly duck!

Approximately 5 years ago, Grandmom asked me if I wanted to take Quacky home and have him at my house each Christmas. Of course, without a second to even think about it, I said YES!! I know it’s silly, it’s a damn stuffed animal, but we love him. He’s full of the most amazing memories.

Let’s skip forward some more to this year. The 1st year that I got to introduce Quacky to our daughter. I couldn’t wait to put the batteries in him and hear his Quacky little Christmas Carols. So after I got the house all decorated, full of magic and lights and extra love for that perfect little girl… I asked hubman to put some batteries in Quacky. Quacky was going to remind me of every Christmas memory I have of my Grandmom. As soon as I’d hear him quack, everything would be right again. Even after losing my Grandmom a few weeks ago, it would all be okay, because I have Quacky and I’d get to share him with our daughter. I’d get to share the same joy that this duck brought me with her! Our daughter is obsessed with ducks. She quacks like a duck constantly. I just KNEW she would love Quacky.

Now is where this story takes a turn. Every year, for 29 years, we’ve heard Quacky’s songs… Until this year. The year I needed him most. The 1st year that I’m spending the Christmas season without my Grandmom. This year, hubman stuck some batteries in Quacky only to be greeted with silence.

It seemed that Quacky has quacked his last quack, right when Grandmom’s song ended, so did our beloved Quacky’s. Now. I know to some of you, this is all crazy and ridiculous, after all, it’s a damn duck, but what you have to understand is that it’s not JUST a duck. It’s memories. It’s joy. It’s so much more than just a duck. I found another one on eBay, but the cost is entirely too steep and I can’t guarantee that it will quack.

I thought about retiring Quacky. Maybe he’s tired. Maybe he wants to be laid to rest with Grandmom. A lot of crazy ideas popped into my head when I realized he’d be silent for the rest of time. After many tears, heartbreak, and grieving a SILLY DUCK PUPPET, I made a decision to keep our Quacky. Even though he doesn’t quack anymore, he’s special and our daughter will grow up with Quacky by her side each Christmas season. She’ll never know that Quacky sang songs, but we can make Quacky quack! We can bring the joy. We can be the voice of Quacky. Just like Grandmom, even though she doesn’t have a voice anymore, we can make her alive again by sharing memories and keeping her voice heard. We can share stories about Grandmom. We can laugh and delight in the wonderful woman she was to us.

To say I’ve cried over a stuffed duck, is silly, unless you truly understand what this duck means to me. It might be silly to cry, but I can’t help but think that Quacky is afraid to quack because he knows Grandmom isn’t here to share the joy. While we are all struggling with the grief of losing Grandmom, I’m here to say, Quacky might be silent, but he’ll be around forever, just like my Grandmom.

So here’s to Quacky, the duck that will NEVER die. Look to the sky one night, find a bright star, and tell my Grandmom that we miss her and that we are all okay. Even Quacky. He’s alive and well and her stories will be shared for generations to come.

Call your loved ones and tell them you love them. If there’s someone you’re spending the holidays without them by your side, do them and yourself a favor, honor their memory. Don’t be afraid to speak their name. Say their name loud and spread the love far, they would want it that way!

Happy Holidays to all of you.

November hurts

We had plans to go see some family the weekend before Halloween. We were taking Bean to see her great grandmothers in north Texas. On Friday, I decided that waiting until next weekend was a bad idea. Call it intuition, call it a hunch, call it whatever you want.

I marched into hubman’s office and told him we needed to pack up and leave today. This was Friday, October 20th. He didn’t ask questions. He just finished up his work for the day and we were on the road.

On Saturday, October 21st, we walked in to surprise Grandmom Grace. She had no idea we were coming to see her and to see the smile on her face when we walked in was absolutely the best thing ever.

Grandmom held our sweet Ady, gave her lots of hugs and kisses and told her she’s just beautiful. We ate lunch with Grandmom and visited for a few hours before Ady got cranky and decided it was nap time.

It was the hug. The hug when we said “see ya later” just hit different. I told Grandmom that we’d be back for her birthday, but somehow I knew… I knew in my heart that we wouldn’t be having a party this year. Though teary eyes and with a heavy heart I hugged her a bit tighter. I kissed her cheek and tried not to let her see my face as I walked away. Hearing her talk about how precious our daughter is melted my heart.

Later that week, Grandmom ended up in the hospital. She fought like the dickens and eventually went to rehab to get stronger.

Unfortunately, getting stronger and going back home to be her feisty self wasn’t how this story ends.

We lost my precious Grandmom Grace on Thursday, November 16th. Knowing that she got to know our Ady is the only thing I wanted. I wanted her to hold her, talk to her, love her, AND SHE DID. Ady will always know her Grandmom Grace. She’ll hear stories and we’ll share memories with her as much as much as we possibly can.

As I sit here at 4am typing this, tomorrow we are going to Grandmom’s visitation and Monday we’ll have her service to say our final goodbyes. Almost to the day, we lost another precious grandmother, Nonnie 6 years ago. November hurts.

I hope one day Ady knows how incredibly special she was to her. Grandmom thought Ady was the best little princess in the entire world.

I’d like to think that Ady and the rest of the family didn’t lose Grandmom, we just gained one of the best angels there ever was to have wings.

Welcome home, Grandmom. Please watch over us because this world is cruel and we need all the help we can get from our angels. I love you. Ady loves you. You’ll NEVER be forgotten.

View Grandmom’s obituary here.

I’m not sure I have anymore words for right now. My heart hurts. I’ve lost my best friend. So for now, I’ll leave you with some unsolicited advice: Call your grandparents. Call your parents. Call your siblings and your cousins. Go see them if you can. Hug them tight. TELL THEM YOU LOVE THEM! You never know when that will be the last time.

Hopfully my next post will be a bit more cheerful. For now, I’m going to flip my pillow over and try to fall asleep so that I’m not a complete zombie when I see my family tomorrow.

I LOVE YOU ALL. SERIOUSLY.

Our Baby’s 1st Birthday

October. Our baby girl’s first birthday. It’s party time. Make a wishlist. Pick a theme. Find a venue. Order everything. Buy the smash cake. Decorate the smash cake. Order the party dresses. Borrow an air pump from the neighbors. Blow up the balloons. Visit craft stores for the perfect candy board. Trash the kitchen making treats for the party. Every thing has to be PERFECT for our little girl’s first birthday. It HAS TO BE.

We’ve worked so hard to have this precious little lady perfectly made for us. To celebrate her first year was something so special to me and the people that love her dearly, I wanted this day to be perfect.

So here it is, a small glimpse into our preparations, the party day, and her cake smash photos.

It was an entire week of making memories. Yes, of course SHE won’t remember any of this, but momma, daddy, and the rest of her friends and family sure will. I couldn’t have done a single bit of this without the help of our amazing family and friends stepping in to lend a helping hand, a few dollars here and there, and mostly, their love.

To everyone who made our little girl’s first birthday so special, I want to send out my sincerest gratitude. Her birthday is always going to be special, but one day, she’ll look back at these photos and see her first friends. She’ll see the family that drove HOURS to celebrate with her. She’ll see the smiles on our faces and know without a doubt that she’s loved by so many people.

THANK YOU!!

Here’s to our little girl, she’s perfect in every way.
Happy Birthday, Adalyn.