Dear Grandmother,

Hard to believe it's now been two years since you left us.  A lot has happened.  Some good, some not.  Some things I know would disappoint you, but others I know you would be proud of.  There isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish I could call you up, or come and see you, and tell you about the latest funny thing that Sarah did, or share with you how well Charlie is doing in school.  To have you share my excitement when I started my own business, or just to sit and watch a movie together.

October 2008

I will always be grateful for all the time I got to have with you.  You and I had a special connection, and that is something I take with me everywhere.  I'm even more grateful for the time that Charlie and Sarah got to spend with you, and feel a great sense of peace that they will remember you.  Not just in pictures or through stories... they remember spending time with you.

You were the most remarkable person I have ever known, and I know that nearly everyone who knew you feels the same way.  Your quiet strength, your grace under pressure, your enduring kindness and generosity... all of these made you an inspiration to many.  I know you didn't think you ever did anything extraordinary.  How many times did you tell me, "I just did what I had to do."?  But everyone who hears just an ounce of what you accomplished in your life, thinks you were amazing.  And so do I.

January, 2003

I miss you every day, but there are days when I know you are near.  Like last Christmas... we could all feel your presence that day.  I hope you got to see Charlie and Sarah singing their little Christmas songs.  They've grown so much in the last two years, Grandmother, and I know how proud you would be of how well they're both doing.  Still, I wish you were here.  I miss talking to you, I miss your sound advice on so many subjects.

As much as we miss you here, I know in my heart that you are in a better place.  I remember watching your face, and the peace that came over it as you slipped away from us.  Your gaze was so transfixed on something above us, that I have to believe there was someone there waiting for you.  I will treasure that moment just as much as every other moment I got to spend with you.  And I know too, that someday, you will be there waiting for me, with Granddaddy and Emma.

Until then, I will strive to be someone you would be proud of.  And not just because I'm your granddaughter, and you loved me.  But someone you would be proud to know, someone worthy of your respect and admiration.  I will carry you in my heart and my mind, because you were as smart as you were loving and generous.

Missing and loving you always,
Megan

Kathryn Alealia Chambers, six months old

Age sixteen

Kathryn Chambers Crouch Beilharz
March 23, 1920 ~ September 30, 2009
Always in our hearts

Remembering

Funny thing about time.  They say it heals all wounds, but I'm not sure I agree.  The passage of time may lessen the pain of loss, but I think there are some wounds that will never fully heal.  This time of year is hard for me, and I suppose it always will be.

Nine years ago today, I delivered our first baby.  Her name was Emma.  I don't have a picture of her.  I don't have her footprint or hand print, and I never got to hold her.  In fact, I chose not to even see her, a decision I sometimes regret, but am assured by those who did that it was the right decision for me.  And I believe them.  Our sweet baby Emma was born still on the first day of my 20th week, but we lost her a week or so before that.  By the time we knew for sure something was wrong, she was already gone.

It started with a routine test... that screening test that was supposed to rule out any possibility of a birth defect.  But instead, with one phone call, my world turned upside down.  The midwife told me my test came back "positive" for Trisomy 18.  She warned me not to overreact, and not to start looking things up on the internet, a warning I wished I'd heeded.  But as bad as Trisomy 18 is, what actually was wrong would have been worse.  When we went in for the ultrasound, and discovered she was gone, I had the amnio anyway, and I'm glad I did.  It told us what happened.  

A condition called Triploidy; our baby had three complete sets of chromosomes, not two.  A condition which usually results in a first trimester miscarriage, but is always fatal.  In rare instances, babies with this condition make it full term, and are even born alive, but it is a condition which is completely incompatible with life.  If there was anything to be grateful for in our situation, it was that we were not faced with a terrible decision to make.  The ordeal we went through was painful enough, and I cannot imagine coupling that with either the guilt of deciding to terminate, or the agony of continuing the pregnancy knowing what the ultimate outcome would be.

She was supposed to be born on our second wedding anniversary.  She was a surprise, but welcome nonetheless.  I remember being so excited, I couldn't help but buy a few cute little baby things, and going shopping for maternity clothes almost as soon as I found out I was pregnant.  In the back of my mind, I knew something wasn't right, but I pushed those thoughts away, thinking that every first time mom-to-be feels that way now and then.  Now I know differently.  Now I can recognize the difference between fear and intuition.

Sometimes I wonder, what if.  What if that extra set of chromosomes hadn't been there, and she'd developed perfectly normally?  I'd have an almost-nine-year-old, a 3rd grader now.  But, what if that meant we didn't have Sarah?  Clearly, that wasn't the plan.  I don't know why we had to lose Emma, but I do know we were meant to have a daughter, this daughter who is the light of my life.  And Charlie, old soul that he is, was meant to be the older brother.

Perhaps it was a lesson in humility.  Perhaps it was a reminder to appreciate all the gifts in my life.  Maybe Heaven just needed another angel... I'll never know, and I've accepted that.  Whatever the reason, and regardless of whether I held her in my arms or not, she is still my child.  I will always remember her brief existence, and hug my Charlie and Sarah a little tighter today.

Ten Years Ago...

Everyone who was alive and old enough to understand what was happening remembers where they were that day.  The date, and the details of that day are seared into our memories.

September 11, 2001.  

Just seven months earlier, I was on a beach in Mexico with my new husband.  Just a week or two before, I was on a plane, several in fact, heading to and from El Paso, Texas to visit my grandmother.  Plane trips were no big deal then, it was even fun.  Just four days before, Rob and I were up in a hot air balloon, a trip that had been postponed for over a year for one reason or another.  Looking back at those pictures, and seeing the time stamp on the bottom makes me realize how innocent we were before that day.  We will always look at any date prior to September 11, 2001 and think, "that was before our world was changed forever."

I didn't even know what was happening until after the second plane hit the tower.  I was at my desk in the sales office, which was separated from the rest of the offices in our building and for some reason, didn't have the radio on that morning.  My husband called me and asked, "Did you hear?  Two planes just crashed into the World Trade Center in New York!"  Stunned, I asked if it was an accident.  My husband said "they" weren't sure, but it didn't look like it.

There was a small television in the showroom, and that's where I found most of my coworkers.  We all watched in stunned silence as the twin towers, icons of New York City, burned.  No one knew quite what was happening.  Then the Pentagon was hit.  I was on the phone with my mother in Alabama when the first tower went down, and watched in horror as the second one collapsed a short time later.  Then the plane crash in Pennsylvania... the one that never made it to it's ultimate destination, but at the time, watching on the news, we didn't know about the bravery of the people on that plane.

In the days that followed, before air travel was resumed, the sky above our house was eerily quiet.  We live in close proximity to the airport here, and planes flying over our house was a normal daily occurrence.  But as strange as the quiet was, the noise of an airplane flying low overhead would for months bring anxiety.  Several months after the attack, we learned that the original plan was to devastate more cities, possibly including Charlotte, which is the nation's second largest banking city.  

Even now, ten years later, the pictures from that day are difficult to watch.  I've seen the 9/11 exhibit at the Smithsonian in Washington DC, a very sobering, sad and moving exhibit.  It's almost harder to watch those scenes unfold now than when it was actually happening.  We were numb from shock and disbelief then... now, we know what's coming.  

Still, I think it's important to remember.  Not only to honor those who were lost on that day, and not only to renew our sense of patriotism.  We remember to be vigilant, but not live in fear.  We remember to be present, and grateful, and thankful to be here.  We remember not only the tragedy, but the heroism, so that we can teach our children the true meaning of bravery.  

I still haven't found a way to talk to my children, who were not born yet, about what happened that day.  I know they have seen some images on the news this week, with the 10th anniversary looming.  But they haven't asked any questions, so I haven't offered any explanations.  After all, how do you explain evil to a child, who's mind is still innocent and pure?  Someday, I know I'll have to try.  

For now, I'll remember, as we all will, and try still to comprehend the incomprehensible.