A letter to Peanut

My dear sweet Carter,

This will be my last letter to you before I get to see your beautiful little face. I have a C-Section scheduled for February 8 @ 8:00...only 8 days away. I'm filled with so many different emotions I don't even know how to articulate them all.

First and foremost, I'm scared. No, terrified. Last weekend, I started having anxiety attacks thinking about going into labor without your Daddy. It's ironic that I've wanted to have a natural birth since day one, and now the thought of it scares me half to death. I don't think I can emotionally get through it without Daddy by my side, he was my rock and the one who made me feel invincible. I talked to the doctor about it at my last appointment, and my anxiety on top of my high blood pressure added to the fact that we think you're already gonna be a big boy, we thought it best to get you outta there. You're taking a toll on my body, buddy. I know of a lot of it is my emotional pain converting into physical pain, but either way - I'm ready for you to come out!

Pregnancy is supposed to be a magical time. I feel angry for both of us that we got cheated out of that because I've had to focus all my energy just on getting through the days without falling apart. I've found myself in the deepest pits of despair, on my knees worried I may never get up. This is not an experience either one of us should have to be going through right now. I'm trying to take care of you. If Daddy were here, he'd be easing my pain with foot massages, back rubs, and taking good care of us both while getting so anxious to meet you. I don't really have anyone to share this with anymore. Faith comes the closest, and she is so excited to meet you and help me take care of you. But of course, it's not the same.

Even though fear is at the top of my list of emotions right now, I don't want you to discount my excitement for meeting you, baby boy. Am I scared? Definitely. Am I worried? Yes. Am I already totally in love with you? Without a doubt. I'm really just focusing on surviving the day, but I promise to do my best to love you and provide for you no matter what.

I really can't wait to meet you, to see your handsome face and remember what I was doing this all for in the first place. And as much as it hurts to not have Daddy with us to greet you into the world, I know he'll be by my side watching over us both. I hope you look just like him. I can't wait to tell you all about him.

I can't be everything you need, but I promise to be everything I can be. Please just come out safe and healthy, and we'll take it from there.

I love you, Carter.

Mommy

A broken family

Our last family photo. We're all in it - all 5 of us.

Even though I wrote to Jer about this tonight, I only get 1000 characters on Facebook, and it just isn't nearly enough to muddle through all my emotions tonight. I can't see clearly through my sobs tonight, so bear with me.

Today, I just can't seem to get over how heart broken I feel for my sweet babies.

I wanted to dedicate my entire day to my kids today. Before Jeremy died, we were pretty good about having 'Friday Family nights' where we would stay in, make our own pizzas (or order it if we didn't have everything or felt lazy) and do something together as a family. Most recently, they had almost always included a game of Hi-Ho Cherry-O and of course, wrestling. Faith told me tonight that no matter what we do, wrestling with Daddy is always "special-er" than anything else. They asked him to wrestle the second he walked in the door almost every day.

We haven't had a 'Friday Family Day' since Jer left us. Mostly because things have been so crazy, but also because I just have a hard time feeling like a family with such a huge piece missing. It hurts too much to call us a 'family' without Jeremy, even worse to celebrate it. But I wanted to bring the essence of that to the kids today, to let them know how much I love them and wouldn't be here if it wasn't for them.

Now, for the last 9 months, I haven't been able to wrestle. I can't do much of anything these days, so I took the kids to 3 different play places. We stayed out all day, walked around the mall, went shopping, had lunch and dinner together, got hair cuts, ate cotton candy....partly to keep them from taking a nap today cause they've been getting up WAY too early lately, and partly to savor one whole day together. Just the three of us, before 3 becomes 4....

Overall, the day was a success. I know it was for the kids, anyway. I teared up on and off throughout the day. I've been okay for a few days, nothing too overwhelming, but it was getting worse today. It really started to hit me when we went to the "Fishy Store" (aka Bass Pro) to look at the fish. If you know me, you know I have a pretty severe phobia of fish, and this was always Daddy's job. I had to text our friend Jon to tell him how proud Jer would have been of me to bring the kids there. Not only did I stand next to the tank with them, but the fish didn't phase me much because all I could think about was how much I wanted him to be there.

On the way home, we reflected on our day and I asked the kids if they had a good time. This was our conversation in the car:

Faith: "Yes, I had lots of fun. And we even went to the Fishy Store for Daddy."

Me (starting to tear up): "Yes, I think Daddy would be proud of us. I really wish he could have been there, he would have had a fun day with us..." I didn't finish cause I started crying.

Faith: "Mommy, you don't have to cry. We did it FOR Daddy."

Me: "I know, baby. I'm crying because my heart is still broken from missing Daddy so much. And it's okay to cry when you have a broken heart."

Faith: "Maybe I can give you one of my Dora Princess band-aids to heal it."

Me (crying even harder now): "Oh sweet girl, I wish that would work."

Caleb: "No Faith, when I grow up to be a Daddy, her heart will be healed."

My first thought was: Jer, how can you be missing this?!? The two sweetest souls on earth trying to ease my heartache in their pure innocence - they do not deserve this life they've been suddenly given. There are just so many things that I cannot be for them. And I can't believe the way they've banded together over the last few months....they really have never been closer. They've been playing so well together, sleeping together - I think they've been subconsciously leaning on each other for support.

And all day, all I kept replaying in my head was that even though it made me physically sick to my stomach to think about, I would give up a future with Jeremy if it meant he could come back and be a Daddy to our babies. No one could replace him in their lives and they need him so badly to be their example, their rock, their knight in shining armor.

And for the one who will never know him....my sweet Carter. He'll never know what a great loss we have suffered. He will be born into a broken family and will never know what it feels like to be whole.

My heart aches beyond measure tonight. Praying for peace to come in the morning.

Subconscious Overload

The only picture I have of Jeremy with Carter - scanned from a photo

booth film strip we did at a friend's wedding in September.

I had quite an eventful day on Wednesday. So many things happened in just a few hours:

First, I dropped Caleb off for 'Donuts with Dad' day at school. Oh, my heart. I started to tear up on the way there when we passed the school my husband worked for, which happens to be right next door to the church (where the preschool is located) and Caleb said "Hi Daddy's work!" like we used to every day he worked there. And without skipping a beat it was followed by "I love you Daddy!"

I thought I was doing good. One of Jeremy's best friends, Jon, took Caleb. I was going to let Caleb just stay home with me and thought about doing something special with him while Sissy was in school, but Caleb couldn't turn down a donut, and he asked if Jon could come. I think it was very special for both of them. But as soon as I got back into my car, tears overcame me. Knowing this was just the beginning to many other things in our kids' lives that Jeremy is going to miss was just too much for my heart to bare.

Then, I had a prenatal appointment. I was very anxious about this one. All weekend, I was unable to sleep thinking about how close I'm getting to having this baby. Anxiety was starting to creep in as I thought about going through labor without Jeremy. Even though my goal for this pregnancy was to have a vaginal delivery, I don't think I will be able to handle it emotionally without him there. I need him by my side, and there are absolutely no substitutes for that. Which brings me to my next point of anxiety - who's going to be with me? I know there will be a lot people there and I could ask anyone, but no one is Jeremy, no one is Carter's father. I'm thankful his mom will be there to hold him first, since that was Jer's job.

On top of all that, I am so completely done with being pregnant. I don't think I will ever be 'ready' to have this baby alone, but I sure am ready to be done with the pregnancy. I'm miserable physically, and obviously emotionally. It's really taking a toll on me. That combined with high blood pressure and the fact that Carter is already measuring to be a decent size, I asked the Doc what she thought about me scheduling an early C-Section. She actually thought it was a smart idea. My original thought was if I don't go into labor on my own, I'll wait for Jeremy's birthday, February 22, to schedule a C-Section in hopes that Carter will have something special to share with his daddy. But I don't think I can handle waiting 8 days after my due date and I wasn't convinced that them sharing a birthday was more emotionally healing than harming and I didn't want Carter's birthday to forever be overshadowed by loss.

After my appointment, my realtor called me to tell me my purchase agreement for a house I put an offer on the day before was approved! It was actually the fourth house I put an offer on. Once everything is said and done, I will feel more comfortable sharing details about me moving. But I will tell you it's a beautiful home and I'm thankful to not have to stay in our current house much longer, as I know Jeremy would not want me here alone without him. It's not a good area.

I will also say that I've had this weird pull to put another offer on the very first house I bid on. Something keeps pulling me back that house, I'm not sure what it is. But I figured I'll put one more offer in and if nothing happens, we'll continue to move forward with this other house....both are great deals for great houses. But I will solicit prayers that we get the right house for our family. Either way, we'll be moving very soon!

So, I scheduled a date to have Carter (which I will reveal once they confirm the appointment tomorrow) and got myself a house all in a matter of an hour.

Then I got home and received Jeremy's full autopsy report in the mail.

The language is very hard to get through. Some of it hard to understand, yes, but I'm referring to the medical coldness. It's a very impersonal way to read the most personal details about the person you know better than anyone in the world. It's hard to swallow. I expected the medical terms and facts, but not the sudden knowledge that someone examined every inch of my husband, and to them, it was just another dead body. Ugh.

I also expected the result of death to be a little more detailed, but left me wanting to know more. On Jer's death certificate, it's says onset of death: years. And yet, the full report revealed nothing to indicate when this started - 5 years or 25 years, I don't know. I know his heart condition would not have been easily detected, but it sucks to know that through all the visits to the hospital last year, nothing was found. We never had a chance to fight.


The funny and disturbing thing is that I dreamt about all these things last night. My subconscious has been working overtime lately, I have been dreaming about Jeremy a lot. But last night, I took some Benedryl to help me sleep thinking it would knock me out cold as usual, but I tossed and turned all night.

The first half of the night, with each toss and turn, I was debating which house to choose and what price to settle on.

The second half of the night I dreamt Jeremy came back to life for just a short time and I was telling him to call his mom so we could bump up the C-Section date and he could be present for the birth of his son.

Then I found myself asking Jeremy questions in my dream about his death. I asked him if he remembered falling, or the fact that he completely dislocated his fourth finger on his right hand when he fell. Thankfully, in my dream, he told me no. And I honestly believe that to be true to life as well. But in my dream he was very weak and I knew I didn't have him for long, but I felt so thankful to have him long enough to tell him I loved him and tell him how much we've missed him since he'd been gone. I wish that was real life.

It's funny how my dreams have been reflecting my life lately. I used to have all these bizarre dreams that seemed to make no sense, and now I find my subconscious really trying to work things out from my real life. I really hope it's Jer's way of talking to me. I pray to meet him in my dreams every night.

A letter to my love

Last week, I had nothing to say. Suddenly, over the last 48 hours I've had so much going through my head, I've had to write it all down. Here's one letter I wrote to Jer this morning:

Hello, my love.


I had a dream about you last night that shook me a little, and I wanted to share it before I forgot:

What I remember is being out in the bush somewhere (that's right, you've trained me now to say 'bush' instead of 'woods' - totally your Canadian influence). 


I heard a gun shot. 


I came running to the sound, and you were sitting in the driver's seat of your old green work truck. I got the sense that you had jumped in there quickly to hide the fact that it was you who got shot in the leg and you didn't want me to see or worry.

I started asking questions, and you were telling me that you had to go for just a few minutes to finish up some things and you'd be back. Suddenly, I knew that if you'd leave, someone was going to kill you - I actually foresaw you getting shot in the chest. So, I begged and pleaded for you not to go, sobbing and trying to explain to you that you'd get hurt if you left and to please please please stay with me. You kept trying to reassure me that it was no big deal, and you'd be back in a few minutes.

I remember stepping back from the truck and watching your face. It wasn't the agony I saw on your face from my last dream, where you wanted to help me but couldn't. This time, it felt more like a 'I have to go' look - like you staying with me wouldn't change the future, or the inevitable. And you were totally clueless as to the possibility of you getting hurt.

And that's what I woke up with today...feeling like no matter how much I begged and pleaded, if I had the foresight to know you were going to die, it wouldn't have changed anything. 


I can't tell you how many nights I laid awake wishing I could have been with you when you died. I know I probably wouldn't have been able to save you, but I would have been with you, I would have been able to see you and be with you, and be your last memory. But in the back of my head, I know that wish comes from a delusion that I would have done something - anything - to keep that moment from happening: driven you to the hospital or something and demanding they check your heart immediately, no matter the cost.

I hate knowing that you were alone when you died. I hate knowing that you were laying on the cold ground for hours before anyone found you. I hate replaying a thousand scenarios in my head about what happened and what you did with your last moments. But then I think that if it didn't happen that way, the kids might have watched you die, and I think that would have been far worse. Or if you hadn't been there for awhile, you wouldn't have been able to line up people in my life to get me to you when I found out. 

I've never been cooky about dreams before, or felt like they were meant for me to learn something, but I feel that way when I dream about you. Like you're trying to tell me something or my own subconscious is trying to work things out. This morning, I feel this parallel to that horrible day, when I felt this weird pull for you not go hunting that day because I really wanted to spend time with you, but knowing I would never ask that of you because you loved it and I know it was therapy for you, so I always let you go. Or that odd few moments in the truck with you before we dropped you off, when you were hesitant to leave. 

You told me not to worry.

You told me you promise to spend time with me when you got home.

It's weird because Faith has recalled countless times that you said you'd be home that night. I've heard her say at least a dozen times "Daddy said he would be home at 7 or 8, but instead he died." It shakes my core to hear her say that but I know she's trying to understand it all too. That night, I had bathed the kids, cleaned their rooms, brushed their teeth, and we sat on the couch reading a bunch of books, waiting for you to get home....I told them they could wait up. We were never usually that organized at bedtime, I always waited for you. It was like a prelude to the rest of my days: getting the kids ready by myself. You were always bedtime routine helper, since that's when you got to spend the most time with them. 

So many ironies that I don't know whether to be thankful for or angry at. So many 'coincidences' have happened, that I feel God's hand in it - and it's almost aggravating to know all those little steps could have all been skipped over by keeping you around....it sure would have saved Him some time. I believe in a God of intervention: saving lives, every day miracles - why couldn't you have been one? 

But, that's what I face now - uncertainty.

Uncertainty about God's plan with all this. Uncertainty about how the rest of my life is going to play out. Uncertainty about my strength to keep going. I guess we're never really supposed to know what God has up His sleeve - that's why we're not God, right? I just wish I could come up with a reasonable scenario that makes your death justifiable and I just can't. My little human understanding cannot wrap my brain around anything good enough to warrant you leaving our family forever. It's selfish, I know, but we still need you so badly here.

I'm waiting for the day to meet you in Heaven, I want to be with you so much it hurts. I imagine getting there and suddenly just knowing the 'whys' of all this, and it won't matter, cause I'll be with you finally. I sit around all day thinking about being reunited with you, to feel safe in your big, strong arms again. Death is something I no longer fear for myself. It's become something I strangely look forward to.

I miss you, baby. Every fiber of my being hurts without you. Every ache and pain I have is amplified with your loss. Every tear falls stronger because I have felt a loss so great. Everything about me and my life has changed in one horrific moment. And right now that one moment defines me, shapes me, haunts me, and affects every moment of the rest of my life. I will never be the same without you. I miss the girl I was with you. I don't know who I am anymore.

You promised that we'd spend some time together, and I expect you to keep that promise when I see you next. I pray that it's someday soon. In the meantime, could you meet me in my dreams and come a little closer? I haven't been able to touch you yet, or feel you close to me - you're always far away, out of arm's reach. I need a hug, I need you to hold me and tell me this is going to be okay. You're the only one I'd believe anyway.

I love you with all that I am.
Forever and always,
Your Vee

Living in Limbo

Last year @ Gulf Coast Getaway. Jan 2010

I haven't been able to post....I don't know what to write. Not anything new anyway. A lot has happened over the last two weeks, and yet nothing has changed. I write to Jeremy every night before bed on his Facebook page and that has served as an outlet for me.

I started reading some of my grieving books. Mostly just to feel connected, to read what others have gone through. It's true that no matter how many people have experienced something similar to you, you still feel all alone in your grief. But something struck me in the book "Moments For Those Who Have Lost a Loved One" by Lois Mowday Rabey:

"Transitioning from intellectually understanding the reality of loss to actually living in the present with the reality of loss takes time. It does not occur at the moment of separation."

She calls this living in limbo. This is where I've found myself. Knowing my husband is gone and not ready yet to adhere it to my new reality, I "ache with the knowledge of loving someone and being loved." Sometimes I forget he's not here enough that I reach for his hand in the passenger seat. These are the hardest moments - when I finally realize he's not. It stings. 

I spent the last 5 days in Panama City Beach, FL for Gulf Coast Getaway leading worship. Jeremy and I went for the first time last year and it was an incredible weekend. He was so looking forward to it this year, and it was incredibly bittersweet to be there without him. Every moment reminded me of the year before and how much Jeremy would have wanted to be a part of it. This year, they made a beautiful tribute video for him. Then, 1600 college students emptied their pockets and broke the ATM machine to raise money for missions in Honduras, and for me and the kids - I was speechless. Once again undeniable proof that no matter how angry I get at God, I know he and Jer are watching over me and walking through this with me.

I was so ready to come home after not seeing my kids for 6 days - the longest I've ever been away from them. I was ready to be back to the familiar, to see those sweet faces that have become some of my few sources of joy and peace over the last 2 1/2 months. 

But then the reality of today really smacked me in the face. Realizing how close I am actually getting to my due date and how unprepared I am, I set out to get all the things still on my list for Carter: pack n play, car seat, swing, etc. I ended up having multiple anxiety attacks realizing I had to make all these mundane decisions without Jeremy. Decisions about OUR baby. I broke down in the middle of Babies R Us, reading all the daddy shirts. I cried with each item I chose, wondering if Jer would approve. I know he would, in all honesty. I could hear his voice saying 'It's okay baby, just get what you need' but that didn't stop me from wanting his opinion. He was always my voice of reason. Every few seconds, I would think 'I can't believe I'm doing this without him' and my heart would start racing and tears would threaten to fall. No wonder my blood pressure was high today at my prenatal appointment.

Going from such an eventful weekend to the mundaneness of every day life - I don't know which is worse: knowing Jeremy missed out incredible memory-making events that he would have loved, or knowing that my every day at home is just miserable without him. 

I guess it just sucks no matter which way you slice it.

2 months

Well, it's been two months. Two whole months. I can't believe it's been that long, and yet it's been the longest two months of my life.

I still ache everywhere.

I still cry myself to sleep every night.

I'm still just going through the motions to survive each day. Supposedly, it's around the 3 month mark that the finality sinks in and another wave a grief takes over. I guess I'll check in then and let you know. Because the reality is that I haven't accepted all this to be truth yet. My strong, handsome husband can't be dead. He is full of life, full of love, full of work yet to be done.

And yet, it is the nightmare I always thought it could be. I feel like every woman imagines what life would be like if something happened to her husband. I know I did. I used to tell Jeremy constantly that I don't know what I would do, I wouldn't be able to breathe. I used to cry just thinking about losing him. I had visions of me on my knees crying out, unable to stop tears and the snot-flying emotions that come along with them.

Most of it is true.

I still have a hard time breathing, it honestly hurts sometimes. I have to remind myself to keep going. I really don't know how I am going to do this without him, especially after Carter is born. To say I'm terrified is the understatement of the century.

The only difference is that I haven't let myself go all the way to depths of grief I know are lurking in the corners of my broken heart. I haven't fallen to my knees in despair, because honestly I'm afraid that if I do, I won't be able to get back up. I don't think I'd recover.

Somehow I make it through the day. I will say that I'm so grateful to the incredible people in my life. I imagine it is difficult to be around me right now, I don't have any interest in being social and I certainly am not the girl I was 2 months ago, but my friends have stuck by my side. They've silently wrapped their love around me and stood by, waiting to be useful. And when I can't ask for something, they just do it anyway.

Not just friends, but strangers too.

People I have never even met before are writing me, donating, praying for me, clicking on  Pennies on a Platter everyday to raise money for me and my children - it's amazing. And now, another fellow blogger is teaming up with Pennies on a Platter to help raise even more  - Mama Still Wears Gucci - click on her blog and read more about how you can help.

In 2 short months, I've learned what it means to lose everything that matters in life. I've also learned what true unconditional love from others can do.

Oh, the irony. I wish these two situations didn't have to come together.

Anger Management

I had another dream last night about Jeremy, but this one was very different.

I don't remember it quite as vividly, but I remember being very angry. I was sitting with a group of women, and someone walked in late. I instantly got a bad vibe from her, turned away from her and started talking with other girls. Later on, we were gathered in a circle taking prayer requests, and this woman kept interrupting everyone and being very rude. She started making 'ridiculous' prayer requests (I don't know if those actually exist, but in my dream, they certainly seemed to be) - and my face and neck started to burn in fury. Finally, I burst into tears and starting shouting something like: How dare you? You have no idea how insensitive you're being. I'm sitting here suffocating in the loss of the love of my life, and all you can do is sit there and be petty about things that don't matter?!? How incredibly disgusting.

I wish I had recorded this dream this morning when I woke up, cause I've already lost most of the pieces. I think Jer was there somewhere, but now I can't remember.  All I remember was wanting to make this girl feel awful. As awful as I feel. 

Then today, I went to get a pedicure while waiting for the kids to get out of school, and had to listen to a very loud woman go on and on and on about the horrible month she'd had. Only to her, a horrible month meant traveling too much to see too many people and hitting terrible traffic each time. I wanted to leap across the room and slap her.

I wish everyone got the memo. I wish people knew so I wouldn't have to explain it. At the same time, I'm so relieved to walk into a place where no one knows my situation and gives me that look. I hate that look. I don't want anyone to treat me differently, and yet I do. Does that make any sense? No pity, just sensitivity.

I've realized that I've spent the majority of the last few weeks being angry, especially over the holidays. Angry at God for allowing this to happen at one of the worst times imaginable in my life. Angry that I have to sit back and watch my friends grow old with their spouses, celebrate anniversaries, go on family vacations....the list never ends. Why am I the one suffering? I'm going through something most people will never come close to experiencing. I'm in the club no one wants to be in.

I read other blogs about people who have lost loved ones and found that I actually started comparing our situations. At least they got 20 years together, I only got 8. At least they didn't have children to worry about. At least their kids are old enough to remember their dad. At least she wasn't pregnant. They couldn't possibly have loved each other as much. I know all these thoughts are ridiculous and hurtful, and yet, there they are. I couldn't stop them. Anger was seeping out of my pores.

I think what happened was me feeling like I wasn't allowed to be angry. Even though I know people have good intentions and I don't get offended easily, people say stupid things sometimes. Things they mean to be helpful that make no sense or are hurtful instead. I didn't want to hear "Thank God Jeremy left you with 3 beautiful blessings." Yes, my children are blessings. Yes, they are the reason I'm still standing. But Jeremy would never leave them with me alone. And forgive me if you think less of me for this, but had I known I was going to have to do this alone, I wouldn't have gotten pregnant either. 2 kids is a lot. 3 was scary, even with Jeremy but he was the one I did it for. Without him, it seems impossible. The 'single mom' scene scares me, because I'm terrified of what people will assume. I did not choose to do this alone. I never worried about happily ever after, cause I had it. We were in it to win it, so I never doubted it. 

Even more infuriating are the people who say things like "God chose this path for you because you are strong and knows you can endure." I will admit that my faith is weary right now, but I refuse to believe that God chose this for me. There are much more qualified people than I to handle this. Who aren't pregnant. Who don't have young children. I believe God is walking this with me, and I believe in a God who allows me to be angry and hurt and ask why. I read this the other day:

Though we know God is not to blame for any death, so many times it seems that he turns a blind eye by allowing his permissive will to occur. He stands dead-center when we are looking for a target. I'm convinced that God loves us so much that he is willing to take the blame, to absorb our anger when we need a punching bag. I think he would rather have us yelling at him than not speaking at all.

-Leslie Williams (Night Wrestling)

I have to hold on to this with every once of faith I have left, otherwise, what's the point? I can't believe in a God who chose to make me miserable. Who chose someone like Jeremy to go, when he still had so much good work to do on Earth, while there are horrible people still walking around. Once I realized that God allows me to be angry, I became less bitter. Anger is still there, but it's really a derivative of confusion and not understanding why. Slowly creeping in it's place is a deep sadness and loneliness I can't begin to describe. It's a sharp pain that I can only hope on it's best days will be a dull ache I'll somehow learn to live for the rest of my life.

There's so much on my mind and heart lately, I don't think it all came out very clearly. For all those who have commented and left condolences, please know I appreciate them all. I'm not angry at anyone for any comment they made, I know their intentions are good. I'm just trying to make sense of a world I no longer understand and I recognize that people don't 'get it.'

I know anger is supposed to be a part of this whole process, and I've faced it head on. I just don't know what the next step is. 

An unexpected blessing

I wanted to pass this along on my blog, for those who may not know about it through Facebook.

I wasn't sure how to go about posting this on my blog without sounding like I'm campaigning for myself, so I'll just go ahead and explain: A sweet friend and fellow blogger from Pennies on a Platter makes a small amount of money from one of the advertisements on her blog based solely on how many 'hits' she gets on her blog every month. She has decided to dedicate the profits made from the month of January to me and the kids....what an incredible blessing. 

Here's how you can help:

Literally, all you have to do is visit Pennies on a Platter - that's it! Wait a few seconds and make sure the page loads up, and I would definitely encourage you to check out the amazing recipes she has on there, but all you have to do is visit - as many times as you can this month. So many people have asked what they can do to help, and I just never know what to ask for, especially from people so far away. This is by far the easiest way to help.

For as much turmoil as I have found myself in lately, I can't deny how humbling it is to see so many people rallying in my corner and doing whatever they can to ease my heartache. It certainly doesn't take the pain away, but it helps to know that there is still good out there in the world.

Thanks in advance for participating!