10 Years Old

 It’s interesting to me how we attach significance to a certain number of years. 1 year. 5 years. 10 years. 9 years is only one less than 10 yet 10 seems to be so much more than 9. It’s a decade. It’s a chapter in our lives. 

Maybe that’s why today seems to be a little bit heavier and more significant than yesterday. 10 years ago, on this day, Hadassah Marie Williams was born. That wasn’t supposed to be her birthday, at least, not in our minds. But God decided it was the right time. We woke up and ate our breakfast trying to have a normal morning and by the time dinner rolled around we had a 2lb 7oz baby girl fighting for life in the NICU. We had no idea that May 10th would be a day we would mark on the calendar for the rest of our lives. 

Those next 4 months moved slower than any months I’ve ever experienced in my life. The following year felt like a CD that keeps skipping (you 90s kids will understand that reference). One shunt malfunction after the next…fighting for normalcy. The next couple years were sweet yet challenging. Seeing Haddie sample various seizure meds, constant therapies in and out of the home, and us wondering what she knew. Yet a bit more normal. And then she turned 4. And it’s like the light switch turned on. We realized she was there. She was learning and growing. And she proved it to us. We began to dream and wonder what she could do in the next 5 years. And we still wonder that. She was learning to speak, she was learning to move, she was learning to live. 

She was. 

Much in the way she came is the way that she left…unexpectedly. And time rolls on. 

1 year turned into 5. And today our Haddie is 10. 

And while we are a little sad that she won’t be at her party in person tonight, we will still celebrate. Family, friends, food, fun. Things she would enjoy. 

And I imagine in my mind that a second party may be going on in the place where time doesn’t seem to matter all that much. When you’re in the presence of the One who created the world, time probably flies by like it does on the days we enjoy the most here. While I can’t fathom what Haddie would have done in her next 5 years on earth, my mind can”t begin to comprehend what she’s been able to do in her 5 years in heaven. 

Happy Birthday to our 10 year old. Haddie we love and miss you. We will try to have a good day knowing that you’re enjoying another best day ever. 

Nine- The Shooting Star

The other day I was scrolling through the channels and came across one of my favorite 90's movies entitled "Jack" starring Robin Williams. It's a fictional story about a boy born with a genetic disease that rapidly ages his body. Robin Williams plays a 10 year old boy who's struggling to realize that his life is quickly passing him by. By the time he's 18 his body will be that of an 80 year old. His tutor and friend Mr. Woodruff asks Jack if he's ever seen a shooting star...

Jack: No...

Mr Woodruff: It's wonderful. It passes quickly, but while it's here it just lights up the whole sky - it's the most beautiful thing you'd ever want to see. So beautiful that the other stars stop and watch. You almost never see one.

Jack: Why?

Mr Woodruff: Because they're very rare - quite rare - but I saw one. I did.

Jack: I just want to be a regular star.

Mr Woodruff: Jack, you'll never be regular. You're spectacular.

On May 10th, 2013, a shooting star was seen. She wasn't supposed to survive or make it past her first few moments on Earth...yet she did. She not only survived, she shined. For 5 years she lit up our world. So often her mother and I had wished she could just be a normal star, but that just wasn't what Haddie was meant to be. Shooting stars take your breath away. They change how you look at the sky. There is a tremendous sadness after they have passed because you enjoyed so much watching them streak across the sky. Yet you were glad that you got to witness one. For that brief moment, that light was all you could see. 

Today we celebrate the 9th birthday of our sweet Hadassah Marie. There is a major difference though between Haddie and a shooting star. Once a shooting star goes by, you'll never see that same light again from that star. I am confident that we will see Haddie again. She's in a place where stars don't burn out. We look forward to that day. Until then, we smile and remember her life and the light she brought to our lives. Happy Birthday Haddie, we love you. 

8

Well I was about to make a post. But my wife said it way better than I ever could over on Facebook so I’m just going to drop her thoughts below: 

Sometimes I forget that being Haddie’s mommy was a lot of hard work. Time makes you forget the hard hospital stays, the heaviness of a body that can’t support its weight, the difficulty of not knowing how your baby girl feels- good or bad. 

Time, however, will never make me forget the joy that Haddie brought. The challenge of making the world accessible to her. The fun of trying to “annoy” her with things like butterflies on her nose.  And the miracle that everyday of her life was- even the hard ones.

Happy 8th Birthday Haddie Bug, my sweet, sweet girl. I love you forever and ever and always. Hope Pap and Jesus made the cake sweet, the party beautiful and the day perfect for you. I’m sure it was🦋❤️🥳 

2 Years Later

 A lot can happen in two years. More than you realize anyways. And the old cliche “time flies” really does seem true at times. It seems like yesterday when I created this blog...and that was over 7 years ago. There are some days and weeks and months and even years that seem to take forever (2020, I’m looking at you) but if we look back on the grand scheme of things, life goes by fast. “What is your life, you are just a vapor that appears for a little while then vanishes away” James4:14 

Two years ago today a sweet and beautiful vapor vanished away from us. We knew it could happen, we just didn’t know it would be that soon. We still sometimes feel the rawness of those moments and we sometimes get stuck in those final moments we had on earth with Haddie. But 2 years has also taught us something that I didn’t think I’d ever be able to say. We are at peace with it. And it doesn’t hurt the same way that it did. Does it still hurt, absolutely. We will never stop thinking about that curly haired girl. But we knew then and we know now where Hadassah is. And so we choose to celebrate this day rather than just mourn it. It’s the day my daughter learned how to not only walk, but fly. It’s the day she not only got to speak, but to sing. It’s the day she got to be held in the arms of Jesus. And I can only smile thinking about that. She’s good. And so are we. 

We continue to try and remember her and use her legacy to make an impact through the Haddie Fund. We have had so many generous donations and we continue to try and spread awareness about the fund. 

Our 4 year old Ansley and 2 year old Selah keep us busy and we often talk about Haddie, where she is, and what she’s doing. Despite Haddie being gone, she is still very much a part of our lives and our daily conversation. 

Two years. The thought just occurred to me. We are two years closer to seeing our Haddie and our awesome savior Jesus. That’s a good thought. 

God is good.  

365,000 Years In Heaven

“But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day.” 1 day to God = 1000 years. I’m no CPA but if my math is correct then 365 days is like 365,000 years to God. 

That’s how long our Haddie has been enjoying heaven and all it has to offer. If she is with Him, and we know she is, it stands to reason she has no concept of time like we do. Every day is paradise. Who knows what she is experiencing each moment?! Pure joy.

As for us, well we are still stuck in this time thing...where a day is a day. And a week is a week and a year is a year. And for some weird reason we keep track of those days, months, and years and events that happen on them.

Tomorrow morning could be a sad day. We could experience all those emotions we felt that day. We might remember how crazy those moments were as we were doing all we could to hang on.  But I think we will do okay. The reality is we’ve either by accident or on purpose relived that moment several times over and over the past year. Kate had the idea of doing some of the fun things Haddie enjoyed doing. So tonight we ate some Olive Garden (she loved spaghetti), we went to the mall and painted (she loved hands on activities), we ate some ice cream (ok admittedly she liked cake way better), we randomly bumped into Haddie’s kindergarten teacher and our good friends who stood by our side that day, Lauren and Jim Keeling (it wasn’t random, God allowed our paths to cross tonight)...and finally...we swam for a couple hours at the Hampton Inn pool where Kate booked a room for us tonight. 

Tomorrow is another day. Will we miss Haddie, no doubt. We miss her every day. We might cry. Humans do that on anniversaries and whatnot. But I think we will also smile. We will smile because death doesn’t win in the end. God does. And those who put their faith in Jesus get to experience looking death square in the eye and saying, “nice try. Better luck next...o wait there is no next time. See ya”. We smile because September 25th, 2018 was Haddie’s first day in heaven. And 365 days later she’s probably not even scratched the surface of all of the wonder it contains and holds. And one day, she will get to show us the place and what’s she’s been up to. Maybe it’ll be in a day, maybe a week, maybe a year or 50 years. One day my time will be up. So will yours.  But mark this down, we will see our Haddie again.. And my dad. And many others. And most importantly we will see the One who made it all possible.  I hope you all will be there too.*  What a day that will be. 

In closing, thank you for your prayers and love you’ve shown us over this past year. We’ve felt your prayers carry us through some challenging times and we love you and thank you. God is good. 


*(If you aren’t 100% sure please send me a message anytime and we can talk. Seriously). 

Six

It's 9:52 AM here on this part of the earth. It's eternity o' clock in heaven where my sweet Haddie is. I can't imagine what it's like but I try to. I think already by this time today Haddie has spent sometime singing to Jesus, swimming in the clearest sea you could ever imagine, and has already ate some of the best cake you could ever taste...6 layers high, covered with sprinkles, and ice cream...and I'm sure pap helped her eat some of it....and some other relatives and friends (It's okay, cake doesnt make you fat in heaven) She's laughed, smiled that big smile, and has the biggest sense of peace you could ever fathom. 

Here on earth it's a little different. We smile. Yet we still cry. We smile because we didn't deserve the 5 years we got with her. It so easily could have been 5 minutes. But God decided to give us longer than that. And what a 5 years it was. That little girl taught us more in those 5 years than I imagine I'll learn the rest of my life. She taught us that God can do whatever He wants through whomever He wants no matter how small they are and no matter what odds are stacked against them. She taught us that what can look like a weakness is actually a strength. She taught us that words do not have to be spoken to communicate and understand love. She taught us more medical terms than we ever cared to know. She taught us to have hope. We got to spend 1,964 days with that girl. I remember the first time I said her name and that little arm shot up to hold my finger. I remember Kate getting to meet her. I remember being absolutely terrified as we made the trip from Philly to Belpre. I remember her milestones of crawling, smiling, eating, and talking. I vividly remember the last day we had too. 

And that's where the crying comes in. We are obviously glad that we know she is at peace now. Her body has no limitations. But we miss that crazy curly hair. We miss the sounds she made. We miss the look in her eye when she was happy and full of joy. She's there and we are still here. 227 days we have spent without her. No I don't know that number by heart...I googled it. But I imagine to Haddie, she's not aware of that span of time. She doesnt have to worry about time. I think she'll be seeing us any minute now (in her mind and the way she experiences it). Because there is no sadness in heaven, I don't think she has to feel the ache of missing us like we miss her. One day, either when Jesus comes back, or when we leave this earth, we will get to spend eternity with her. That will far outweigh any of the days we spent without her here on earth. 

Until then, we smile, cry, and remember the gift we were given. She was a beautiful fighter. Our myrtle tree. Frogger. Our sweet and precious Haddie. Happy 6th Birthday...I know it'll be a great one where you are. 

Good Grief-Tips to Help You Help Others

(This is a little lengthy but I hope you can take some time to read it when you get the chance)

First off, thank you. Thanks to all of you who have continued to ask and care for us. Last Friday made 4 months. And we appreciate you all remembering us and Haddie.

Having lost my dad in March and my daughter in September, I've had some time to really experience grief like I never had before. I'm not sure I believe in the stages of grief. I'd call them cycles. There are good days and bad days, good moments and bad moments. Until this year I dont think I could grasp what it would be like to be on this side of things. You always wonder "how in the world do they get through it". Or "what would I do in that situation" You also wonder how you can help. I want to tell you what has helped us. This may not be the same for every person. But prior to March and then September, I had no clue what to say or do when someone experienced a huge loss. Here's just a few of my observations.

1. It's not about what you say...well sort of. Standing in visitation lines at a funeral isn't a fun experience. You wonder what should I say or is there something I shouldn't say. I honestly couldnt tell you what 95% of what people said to me while I was at the receiving end of that line. "I'm sorry for your loss", "Im praying for you", "love you"...etc.  What I do remember is people being there. Hugs, tears, laughter. It's a reminder to me that we arent the only ones grieving. You just being there was enough.

What we enjoyed the most was people sharing memories with us. At my dad's funeral folks told stories about him that I had never heard before. Those stories add to my memories of him. Even if it was a story I'd heard before, I loved hearing it again. At Haddie's we found out just how she impacted so many people. Hearing those stories helped us tremendously.

As time has gone on what we've noticed is people are sometimes afraid to bring up Haddie or my dad. I think they are afraid it will upset us. The reality is...there's not a day that goes by that we don't think about them. So you bringing them up doesn't upset us. What's harder is feeling like they arent here anymore. At Christmas I knew Kate was worried that we'd go through the many gatherings and not talk about Haddie. So as a gift for her (and to myself) I asked 1 person at each gathering to pass out some sheets to everyone there saying "Haddie is Here Because I Remember..." and they'd write down their memories. We loved reading what people wrote down. It meant so much to us. We know you havent forgotten. But hearing you say or write down those memories makes us feel that. The last thing a person wants is to feel like people have forgotten or moved on. There's no moving on for us. Yes, the raw grief and extreme mourning has lightened up (some days)...but as long as I live I'm going to deal with this. So don't be afraid to talk about the person that passed. It actually helps.

The sort of...

I'd recommend not saying "I know how you feel" or "Ive been there". I know you are trying to make the person feel like they arent alone. But in reality, you don't know how they feel. Yes, you may have lost a father or a daughter or a similar relationship. You may know what tremendous loss feels like. But that doesnt mean you know exactly how that person feels. Grief is different for every person. There are so many circumstances that affect how you feel. Instead of saying "I know how you feel"...just tell them what helped you when you experienced a loss. Kate and I were unaware of how many folks we knew that had lost children. Them sharing how they dealt with it was good for us.

There's another phrase that is tricky. "If there's anything you need, anything at all, dont be afraid to ask or call". Hear me, I've said that one. If you said that to us...I appreciate it. I know you want to help. But here's the reality...when you are going through the raw stages of grief...you don't know what you need. And even if I did know what I needed...I'm probably too prideful to ask. So that brings me to my next suggestion:

2. It's about what you do.  So many folks helped us in so many ways. They didnt ask us what we needed...they just did it. Here's the list:

- The day Haddie died some close friends came and cleaned our house because they knew relatives would be coming in
- Other friends just came and sat with us so we wouldn't be alone. (Note...sometimes it's good to ask how long you should stay. Sometimes we wanted to be alone)
- Some folks actually paid to have a cleaning lady come in the following weeks and do a deep clean of our house. (They asked first. I know some people may be too prideful to accept but we were ecstatic)
- Food. SOOOO much food! People brought us a variety of dishes to help us feed the relatives.
- Entertainment- Some close friends bought us some tickets to go see an Ohio State game a few weeks after. That was a much needed day out for Kate and I.
- Some folks offered to pay for some grief counseling sessions. Kate and I both did that and it was very helpful I believe.
- Cards. (I especially like cards where you shared a memory or a story. I don't usually read what the author from Hallmark wrote because I don't know him or her)
- Babysitting
- Financial help
- Texts or calls in the weeks or months after letting us know of something that reminded you of them

And the list goes on. There's so many unique ways we can help folks who've experienced loss if we are willing to look and see. Just know this...there's nothing you can do to remove that grief or help them get over it. But those moments where people have helped does give us joy and hope for the future.

3. Faith is everything

Bottom line...God is really the only one that can bring peace. He has used you all to help. That is certain. Your prayers have helped. I know He hears you when you pray on our behalf. Knowing that my dad and Haddie are in heaven and that this is not the end...that I will see them again one day...that is indescribable. I am excited for that day. And I want others to feel this way that do not have hope.

My plea to you if you are a Christian is this...share your faith. Bless folks so much that they ask you about your faith. Share it. Tell your story. Quit worrying about politics and quit squabbling like children on Facebook. It's not the main thing. Letting people know that there's a Jesus and a solution to their pain is what matters. I ache so bad for the lost people in this world who do not know Jesus and go through something like this. More so I ache because death isn't the worst part for them...what's after death will be the worst part of they do not know and follow Jesus. I have soooooo much to look forward to when I die. So if you are a Christian, don't be afraid to share the only thing that will get people to heaven, help them with grief, and give them a purpose in life.

And if you aren't a Christian or you arent sure if you are...let's grab some lunch or dinner and talk.

God is good.