Time is an amazing thing. There is no commodity like it. It can not be saved or sold, bought or traded, expanded or negotiated. It is what it is. Our only option is how we use it.
First heartbeats, First kicks, First hiccups,
Julian Avery passed away at age 5.
For the last two years, my right shoulder has really ached. It came from throwing untold thousands of footballs to my 14 year old son, Alex John, or as we called him, AJ. It honestly hurt enough so that I only slept on my left side and if I rolled over on it, it would wake me up in the night. But I didn't care, how could I stop doing those things? I loved it. My new problem is that over the past month or so, my shoulder has slowly but surely stopped aching. Now what keeps me awake at night is my broken heart. You see, I have no one to throw those passes to, no one to brush back anymore. Because AJ left us on January 5, 2008, a victim of childhood cancer. I miss you AJ.
2008 held much promise. Ty was starting radiation, and some positive changes had us hoping for the best. Things quickly went south, and it all happened so quickly it still doesn't seem real. I am so glad I let Ty stay up and have fun with his friends that last New Year's Eve. I am sad that I did not enjoy having fun with the kids but instead did our adult visiting upstairs. One thing I have learned this year....we don't know how much time we have. We don't know how much time God is giving us with our loved ones. Why wait till 'later' or 'next time', when you have the time right here and now to spend with someone you love?
Today I re-activated his cell phone just so that I could hear his voice once in a while. I miss hearing his voice. I know it will hurt me but, I just had to do it.
--Brendan Kizar's Mom. Brendan Kizar passed away at age 16 from Burkitt's Lymphoma.
So many mixed emotions. 2008, and 2007 when Brett was first diagnosed, are the worst years of my life. Part of me is looking forward to 2009, while part of me is almost afraid of it. It represents new beginnings and the unknown. It also represents time further away from the last time I hugged my son, heard him tell me he loves me. The pain is still with me daily. My heart aches so much. I would give up everything I have to have you back. The ache and pain are still so unbearable at times. I am so sorry son. I love you!
--Brett Workman's Mom. Brett Workman passed away at age 17 from Burkitt's Lymphoma.