This year we donated $500 to Children’s House in Fayetteville, $250 to NWA Children’s Shelter, and $250 to Arkansas Children’s Hospital.

We want to extend our sincere thanks to the Guajardo family from North Little Rock, AR.  It was such a blessing to receive the shipment of books from you guys.  I hope that you enjoyed picking out the books as a family and I assure you some children will be very blessed to read them.  Your gift to us has helped us to feel loved and special.  The sweet letter truly brought tears to my eyes.  Thanks again for thinking of us and helping others.  Love, Susan and the Bobbitt family

I miss you, babygirl.  I would love to see you and hold you.  I hope you come to me in my dreams and give me tiny kisses.  I will always love you.  I am blessed to be your mama.

Books were sent to First United Methodist  (Harrison), Family Violence Prevention

(Batesville), Open Arms (Lonoke),  The Wade Knox Child Advocacy Center (Lonoke)

and A Bookcase for Every Child in Hot Springs.

People who have not yet experienced a life changing tragedy have a certain quality about them which I’m calling innocence, although I’m not sure that’s the word I’m looking for. This innocence causes them to think bad things only happen to other people, somewhere else. They also think that when tragedy does strike these other people, that they eventually “get over it.” They use terms like “move on” and “find closure.” They don’t realize that our lives are forever changed and that we don’t even want to get over it. They don’t mean any cruelty. They just don’t know. I hope they never do.

I think it’s a lot like what our nation experienced with the death of President Kennedy in my generation and with the 9/11 attacks in the present generation. That is when we discovered that we didn’t have any special protection. The worst really could happen. We really could lose everything.

Cameron, I miss you. I wish you were here. When the other kids have a happy experience, I want you to have it too. You were very happy, and your life was very full–just too short!

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.

Somedays I cry in the shower– like a silent scream. Then it quickly subsides, and I go on. Somedays, I let my mind wander to what could’ve been, then I stop myself. Somedays, I wish that I could stay in bed, but I get up anyway. Somedays I look at my girls and miss her more than I ever thought I could, but then they hug me.
Today, I helped some children. A couple of them had been injured. It hurts to see an injured child, especially one where the injuries are inflicted by an adult. I wish I could do something about it. I wish I could make the pain stop. Poor babies.
I love children. I love mamas and daddies. I love happy families, and I will never understand why the cruelty of this world in which we lives threatens that happiness. I wish we could all live forever in safety and love.
I guess that’s just a dream for now. I know there is no way to stay safe and secure at all times. Our kids grow up, we have experiences that stick with us– changing us forever, melting our innocence before our eyes. There is only one place where we are held in the truly safe and loving arms of our creator. That is the prize for surviving this life, no matter what it throws our way. We must build on our character, and find a way to prosper and give back despite the pain.
And you know, there are days when I don’t cry. I don’t hurt and I don’t mind jumping out of bed. There are times when I look at my girls and I just smile– no strings attached. There are bad days, there are so-so days, and there are good days. Wow, who know a bereaved mom could say that and be okay with it. I may actually have stopped punishing myself just a little. Baby steps…

Today I took Kennedy for a bike ride.  It was the first time she really rode without training wheels.  I have been a little embarrassed that my 7 1/2 year old can’t ride a bike.  But, truthfully, I am just happy she can cross the street.  When we first moved here, she was scared to ride the barbie car in our cul-de-sac.  She and I both had this fear of streets, of cars coming around the corner, of the worst happening.  It has been such an adjustment for both of us to realize that the car might stop.  Whenever any of them get near the street, my heart just stops.  It’s like, they step in the street and its all over.  But usually the car stops.  Usually the driver is paying attention, aware of his surroundings.  Nobody wants to run over a child in the street.  So more than likely, we will be okay. 

So I praised my daughter today for riding that bike on the sidewalk.  And then we went for a walk around the block.  And she let go of my hand, and looked both ways, and crossed the street.  And she made it across.  I know one day I will have to let go, and let my kids grow up.  They will go places without me, and I may not always know exactly where they are.  And, more than likely, they will be okay.

And that’s just some of the simple things we do to keep moving forward.  It isn’t easy, but we are all surviving.  We can’t changed what happened to Cameron, and we know its not our fault.  But we will not let it paralyze us.  We are brave enough to look both ways, then cross the street.

Books were sent to Safe Place in Morrilton, Frink Chambers Elementary in Mcalester Oklahoma, River Valley Shelter for Battered Women and Children in Russellville, First United Methodist in Harrison, Cherished Heartbeat in Heber Springs, and Women and Children First in Little Rock. It is nice to give in Cameron’s name. Derrick.

Our family is so grateful to the community of McAlester Oklahoma for the book drive this spring. We were presented with a large quantity of fabulous books by Heather Horton, our friend and a pre-school teacher at Jefferson in McAlester. We appreciate you!
Also, I would like to thank the Cannant family for the great books. It was great to see you all.
I express my sincere thanks to my brother and sister-in-law who always make me feel loved and cared for. The books are great. Thanks also to Cherry and the Scholtens for your contributions and continued support. Chris and Jay, Derrick had a great time and is so pleased to have been able to have the golf tourney in Mt. Home this year. You were both wonderful hosts and I know a great time was had by all.
Mom and Dad, just know that every moment and every effort behind the scenes and by our sides means the world. We couldn’t ask for a more supportive set of parents. I am just in awe of your love and constant ability to stand by us!
Angela, you have been a truly amazing friend and I thank you for keeping me afloat! You have single handedly helped me maintain my connections to McAlester. I know how much work went in to planning and pulling off that party. Thank you so much!
Angie and Emory, thanks for opening up your home to us and all the crowd. The party was a huge success and we felt so loved and remembered! You guys are the best.  Ren, you went above and beyond buying everyone’s dinner at Chef Billy’s.  We love that place.  I miss you!