When we lived in Oklahoma, we had this big beautiful yard.  It was probably the most spectacular yard in the whole town of McAlester.  You turned down this dead end road off a neighborhood street and suddenly, you were in our driveway.  We were up on a lot above the city.  Our view looked across the highway at the country club on the other side.  We had cattle in the field just past our yard.  Our sunsets were breath taking.

Tonight, I am reminded of that yard and many precious nights we spent there with our girls.  In the summer it stayed light past nine o’clock.  We would blow bubbles, chase fire-flies and draw rainbows with side-walk chalk.  The wind blew through our hair and I heard whispers in the breeze.  I felt a connection with God there.  I was so happy, so fulfilled. 

It is hard to imagine how far away those feelings and memories are, and yet how near and dear they are to my heart.  I crave that sense of peace, of innocence.  I am in disbelief of that which I have lost.  I am so sad, so very sad.  And yet, I play in my beautiful yard here in Arkansas.  We shoot hoops, we sing, we have a million fire flies to chase.  I feel the breeze in my hair.  I watch the sunset– though it is less impressive here.  We listen to the sound of the train, the crickets chirping.  I still feel alive.

I still kiss my sweet babies and hold them tight.  I still feel amazed to be their mom and overwhelmed with love.  And sometimes, believe it or not, I still feel God’s presence. 

Life is so strange.  The same thing that makes me happy makes me cry.  My loneliness is trumped by the fact that I am surrounded by a wonderful family of amazing people.  Cameron was truly the inspiration that made me a mother.   She was perfect in everyway.  I can still not even fathom that she is gone and I know that I cannot survive the loss of her.  I know it in my heart.  But yet, here I am.  Life is definitely a rollercoaster.

I hope that one day I can think of Cameron and just smile, just be happy and proud and rest assured that she is safe and at peace.  I wish that I could see things from her perspective.  I am still seeing them from that of a broken-hearted mother.  Forgive me if I can’t give thanks that she is gone– has moved on to a “better place.”  It doesn’t hurt any less.  I am the mother who watched her go.  That seems so unreal.

I am rambling.  I can’t reconcile this.  I can’t even say what it is that I feel right now.  I just know that the tears are flowing.  All the while there are pitter patters of little feet on the floor.  There are tattle tells and spats.  There are giggles and hugs and the T.V. blares with Disney shows.  My tears must try so I can solve this battle of the barbie, diaper my baby and rock her to sleep, get one  child in the shower and give another one her inhaler, have everyone brush their teeth and go to bed.  I’m still here, I guess.  Still going.  Good night.