This past Sunday marked 3 years since Olivia opened her eyes in Jesus' arms. The weeks leading up to this past weekend was full of knotted stomachs and tear-filled nights. Laying in bed, I wrote and rewrote letters to her in my head. Telling her how much I missed her. How much she changed my heart. How I'd give every ounce of myself to hold her again.
We never have plans for the days surrounding Olivia's birthday. We never know what our hearts will need so Josh and I stay extra guarded. Grief can be a very isolating journey.
The weekend went as well as it could. We spent quality family time and talked constantly about her. We dreamed about the little girl she would have grown up to be. We looked through pictures. We took time to be still. It felt good to have a dedicated time to remember her. I needed it. We all did.
In memory of Olivia we had this painting commissioned. "Quiet wings watch over you" by Scout Cuomo. It takes my breath away every time I look at it. It's amazing how art can reflect so accurately the feelings of the heart.
Today marks the anniversary of laying her to rest. These milestones are a strange thing. It's like a big crescendo of emotion that you expect will make you explode. But you don't explode. You breathe.
And let Jesus carry you on.
"Ashes are never the last line of any of God's stories. Abundance, resurrection, redemption always are." Ann Voskamp