Fuzzy

She had only been gone a few days. I took the big kids to the zoo in a desperate and hurried attempt to do something. Anything. It seemed like something “normal people” and “regular families” would do? The corner of Children’s Hospital suddenly jarred into my line of vision as we crossed the pedestrian bridge to the main entrance. I wanted to curl up in a fetal position, ball up in a heap against the fencing and just CRY. But instead I clenched my jaw together, quickened my pace to match the racing of my heart and looked the other way. The big kids, oblivious, walked beside me trying to decide which exhibit to visit first. It’s not that I’m in the habit of concealing my sadness from them – but there’s a time and a place nor did I want to project my negative connotations of the hospital on them.

It turned out to be a nice day, all things considered. We ebbed back and forth from spells of laughter to walking along in the new and indelible sadness that was now a part of us. As we sat eating lunch my thoughts drifted off to Shouldawouldacoulda Land. I had such dreams to bring Nora to the zoo. I reminded myself that my starry-eyed expectations undoubtedly were a far cry from the likely reality of it. Nornor was very much a “homebaby”. She tolerated her trips out here and there, but she was always happiest and most content in her “nest” in her familiar living room. Meanwhile, back in reality, a little piece of milkweed fluff drifted down in front of my face and landed right in the middle of my pizza. I really didn’t think anything of it at first, but it was definitely odd that it landed THERE — and so obviously. “It’s FUZZ!!!!!!!!!” Greta exclaimed. “Fuzz” was also the endearing term we used for Nora’s fuzzy hair.

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We loved to sniff her fuzz and rub our cheeks in it. It was so so soft and smelled absolutely delicious. I smiled through the tears that welled up in my eyes, and that’s how it began. From thereafter we began seeing the fuzz in obvious and sometimes unlikely places, but always with perfect timing. It’s not just limited to milkiesweed. It can also be thistle down and dandelion fluff. One of my favorite instances was in a park. I saw the “fuzz” first, and then 2 small children saw it and started laughing and chasing it. Our Kelly even had a piece hover in front of her IN the house right as a song came on that reminded her of Norns.

This piece drifted into my car window while at the cemetery ~
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A tickling of the silky filaments across my nose and lips can evoke the sweetest of memories… what it was like to love her, to breathe her in, her precious smell, her soft perfect babyness, the beloved texture of her own sweet fuzz!

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And then the more I thought of it, these little fuzzy reminders are analogous to that fuzzy little baby in more ways than just their fuzziness. Each encounter, story, video, picture, etc. of Lady Baby had a metaphoric little seed attached to it. Little seeds that took root in so many hearts. I look out across the field, my cheeks sparkling with tears at all of the beautiful flowers that Nora has left behind. Renewed faith in God, new friendships, heightened friendships, inspired pregnancies, and the heartfelt prayers that sustain us — THOSE flowers.

This is a cute and seemingly random shot of little Greta from the maternity photo session back in April 2012 shortly before our own fuzzy little dandelion graced this world with her presence, scattering sweet seeds all over the place ~

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We had fun with some milkiesweed pods in the backyard that we discovered in early November on a warm afternoon.

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FUZZ!!!! EVERYWHERE!!!!!

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For just as the ground produces its crops and a garden yields its produce, so the sovereign LORD will cause deliverance to grow, and give his people reason to praise him in the sight of all the nations.
(Isaiah 61:11 NET)

Reachout Banquet

Just in case you haven’t already see it on the Praying for Nora Rose Yusko Facebook page

This coming May I am honored to have been invited to be the guest speaker at the 2015 Reachout Banquet. Public speaking is certainly not one of my favorite things to do and goes against the grain of my introverted nature, but I know my accounts of LIFE and love trump my abiding social awkwardness. So… I’ve agreed to get up there and tell it!

If you are in or going to be in the Greater Cincinnati area, I would love to see you / meet you! 🙂

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Tuesday, May 12, 2015, 6:45 pm Dinner and Program

To make reservations: contact@reachoutpregnancy.com

Please share!

Merry Influenza!

As the months creep by it seems to be increasingly harder to come up with anything spiritual or inspiring to write. It’s not that I’m in the pits of despair, but obviously things are very different than they once were. I have not lost my faith or trust in God. I believe there is so much more to all of this than I have sight of right now, but that doesn’t make it any easier to walk through. The little girl who drew everyone to this blog in the first place is not available to be the subject of my photos and videos anymore. I feel like a sad substitute for the abundant hope and joy that she projected. That was her job, her purpose, and we all fell madly in love with her! It’s as if the Grand Show is over… for now. A few beloved stragglers have stuck around in the stands to watch me sweep and mop up the dark, empty stage, sometimes helping me along the way, picking up stale popcorn and damp confetti. I am mindful not to get muddled into the trap of self-pity nor am I sharing this to elicit external pity. I’m incredibly blessed and encouraged by those of you who have stuck around. Thank you for bearing with me through my extended interludes of silence, my lighthearted attempts to make fun of myself, and through my bouts of mournful heartbreak.

Now that we are midway through February it seems sort of irrelevant and past the point of mentioning Christmas – but perhaps worth sharing none the less. Yes, the holidays were difficult, but that’s not why I didn’t post about them. For the entire week of Christmas I was curled up under the electric blanket shivering with the aches and pains of good old Influenza Type A. Fortunately I had the good sense to have done most of my shopping, decorating, card writing, wassailing, etc. well in advance – JUST INCASE I were to fall victim to any wicked virus selections currently on the public menu. There seemed to be SO much going around — foreboding clock ticking in the background, “It’s only a matter of tiiiiime…”

Here is this year’s Christmas card:

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Close up of the stinky little Baff Angel during the “photo shoot”:

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* Sidenote: Fisher-Price Little People (and the like) are way more cooperative than actual family members!!

One of the suggestions in grief counseling to get through the holidays is to start new traditions to commemorate your loved one. We did little things to remember Norns around the house (as if we could ever possibly possibly forget her!!). It’s just the sweet reminder that she’s still with us. I plan on making (or buying) a Nornor ornament — a “Nornament” each Christmas for our tree. We also have a very sweet angel tree topper!

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Another suggestion to get through the holidays during painful times of loss is to do something different. I would have to say that being in bed for 6 days with the flu for the entire week of Christmas hit the nail on the head there. I wasn’t up for writing any new blog posts, let alone getting out of bed for any reason, Christmas included. Every square inch of my body hurt. Now that the terrible discomfort of it has passed, I will say that I am actually grateful for that forced time of rest when ordinarily I would have been running full steam ahead trying to get everything “just so”. There was no place I wanted to be but in bed. There was no feeling sorry for myself at the sound of the garage door closing and the car driving up the street, my kids and hubzbind off to my parents’ house. There were no expectations of anything beyond Tylenol and sleep.

I did manage to get out of bed to watch the kids open their presents on Christmas morning.

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Gavin had asked for a really sweet pair of gym shoes that he designed on Nike’s website. They were not able to be delivered by Christmas, but they arrived a couple weeks later. What a completely sweet tribute that he made to his baby sister, totally unprompted.

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So there you have Christmas — better late than never, I suppose.

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever.
(Psalm 107:1)