Like There is No Tomorrow

It is the holiday season... Katie loved this time of year.

“Forgive and give as if it were your last opportunity. Love like there's no tomorrow, and if tomorrow comes, love again.” – Max Lucado

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Giving Thanks

“Nurse Katie” 1996

Today was a very special day of Thanksgiving.

I wrote this for Katie on Thanksgiving Day, ten years ago. Nostalgia brought me back to it today…

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This Was My Katie

Katie loved ribs cooked on the grill, cucumbers, cheese toast, butter toast, Apple Jacks, Mt. Dew, BBQ chicken, Mio’s pizza, salad with “orange” dressing, Burger King burgers, “smashed” potatoes from KFC, Pizza Inn buffet, Oodles of Noodles, mac&cheese, ABCs123s, crushed ice

Katie loved pink and purple, she loved flowers, she loved to draw, color, write; she most especially loved to write love notes, oh she wrote love notes every day (she left one in every room for us to find later)

Katie played “doctor” on her baby doll “patients”
Games we played at UNC - Go Fish, Adventure Park, Sorry, Trouble
Favorite videos - The Little Rascals, Casper, Toy Story, “CMT”
Favorite TV show of all time- Rugrats
Most favorite toy in the world - “Doggy”

Katie loved Alan Jackson, The Spice Girls, Hanson; she loved to watch both pop and country music videos; she would sing but only if no one was listening

Katie wanted to be a nurse when she grew up
Katie and Shannon would play store and school and Barbies together
Katie loved me . . .

for katie by mom
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Heritage

A picture by Katie...

Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is his reward. ~Psalms 127:3

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Happy Halloween!

Kate-Kate & Sissy
Halloween 1996

I love this picture of my girls.

Hold on, man. We don't go anywhere with "scary," "spooky," "haunted," or "forbidden" in the title. ~From Scooby-Doo
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HOPE

Sissy wrote this essay for school. It is very profound and I am proud of her. Although she touches on some very sensitive issues, these are HER words and life as SHE sees it...

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Hope

What’s in a word? Something deeper than a knowing, an understanding of fate. It’s a blind faith in oneself or the world. And reason to believe that with no proof, no jurisdiction, life will move on, time will heal, and tomorrow will magically be better. A belief is an idea taken as truth. A persona of something deeper than death, deeper than grace and redemption. My belief surpasses the very meaning of the word; it surpasses the foundation of my life and my world. It defines me to the essence of my existence. It explains why I continue moving, breathing and keeping up. I believe in hope.

Starting with my older sister, Kaitlin Hope, otherwise known as Katie. A brilliant, bold and bright little girl. The only seven-year-old brave enough, smart enough to impact absolutely everyone she came into contact with. The only seven-year-old whose eyes and smile were light and open enough to draw attention away from her fragilities and bald head. Katie was not about to let cancer rob her of the joy that she lived and gave to others daily. She was born an angel, filled with compassion, laughter and love. And she continued her legacy. She passed away as the only seven-year-old who knew exactly how to be a sister, daughter and friend.

“Hope” started forming a pattern in my life. And only recently have I noticed it. Kindergarten brought the introduction of Jonah into my life. Jonah brought grace to my clumsiness and an understanding of my circumstance. He showed a simple joy that I needed at the time. He was there for me in a way no hired specialist with their fake empathy and quasi smiles could be. Years passed, and I grew accustomed to Jonah’s striking ability to lift a sour mood. I took for granted the kindness he showed me. The forgiveness he gave. I never thought of how bonded we were. How, despite everything falling around me, I could take refuge in the fact that he wouldn’t leave. But one stormy August day my world fell for the second time in my short dreary lifetime. I remember listening to the speech his brother gave, picturing them lowering Jonah’s body into the ground. “For a moment all hope is gone.” An anvil balances itself on my shoulder. “But it's looking past that moment; to the hope Jonah left us with. The hope he'd given each and every one of us. The same hope we need now to move on.” I did as he said. Looking past the helplessness, trying wholeheartedly to regain the hope Jonah had given me. And I did. A wary, broken hope. But a hope, nonetheless.

Years passed, and the arrival of another angel struck understanding between the diverse members of my family. A beautiful, gleaming baby girl. Sophia Hope, the daughter of my loving and sweet cousin Erica and her equally sincere husband Josh. Being diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis hasn’t dampened the love Sophia’s family shows openly for her. Nor has it afflicted the pride I, along with the rest of our family, have in this beautiful and courageous little girl. I remember hearing of how small Sophia was when born, and how short the estimated life span given by doctors had upset her mother. But what I remember, above anything, is my cousin’s will to persevere, the will to fight for the health of her precious baby girl. In time Erica’s hope grew, along with her child. Now, another year or so later, nothing could possibly hinder the almost two-year-old Sophia Hope from her playing. To the naked eye, Sophia seems perfectly healthy, happy and at ease. But to the trained eye, the eyes who know her weaknesses, Sophia looks nothing less than a miracle.

I’ve been asked of my belief in politics, in religion and other pointless matters. I’ve been asked to prove myself. To prove the idealism of my beliefs and how they stand so much taller than others. I’ve been asked why I believe so deeply in God, and the abilities of mankind to finally get back to good. But not once have I been asked what I believe. Not without a specific demeanor attached. Not once have I been approached with the opportunity to express such a broad range of thoughts and notions. And after long, endless days and nights of searching, I’ve found what I believe. Not because I’ve been given evidence of its existence, or a file or formula of what it is and how it’s made. Not just because I’ve seen it, lived it, kept it all these years. I believe in hope, not because I want to, but because I have to. Because I need hope, we all need hope. Just to survive.

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Fall is Almost Here

Katie's artwork

Autumn has almost arrived, and I love this season - the nip in the air, the falling leaves from the trees. I wrote this poem for Katie one fall a few years ago. It is a true story about something special that happened...

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The Dancing Leaf

Missing my angel more than usual
Aching with a despondency
That could not be eased
I walked and walked
Hoping that I would reach
The destination
Of peace
I sat down under a tree
It was hot for autumn
No wind stirred
Wiping a tear from my eye
I looked up
And noticed a little golden leaf
Suspended in mid-air
Twirling, dipping, spinning
Around and around
The golden leaf danced
Up it rose as if trying to find its way
Back home to the branch
From which it fell
Then down again
Twirling, dipping, spinning
Around and around
The golden leaf danced
I watched, mesmerized
Then I smiled
Looked up and said
Thank you for the visit

for Katie by mom
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If You Believe

Beautiful Katie, age 3 1/2

Many people have asked this question: "How do you go on?" My answer: "How do I not?"

"Faith is not the belief that God will do what you want. It is the belief that God will do what is right." – Max Lucado

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