Butterfly kisses

I don't talk about it much on the blog anymore but every now and then I feel compelled to share something about this journey of healing after losing my sister to breast cancer last year when she was only 41 years old.

I'd like to say each day it gets easier, but I think it got way worse before any sign of sunshine appeared. Details of my nieces that I can't share have been the most heartbreaking watching them pick of the pieces of losing their mother way too young have been the hardest. Seeing my mother experience the unimaginable of losing a daughter has also been agonizing. At times, I'm not the "fun" and "cool" aunt anymore, I'm more of the rolling-your-eyes-at-me-because-I'm-acting-like-your-mom aunt.

The hardest times are the ones that I just wish she was here to see something or ask her something about what she would want for her girls. I go with my gut but I throw in a good "you should know better" for good measure like I know my sister would.

Most recently, my oldest niece had her senior prom. Prom...it's a huge event in the life of a teenager and here she is about to graduate high school and my sister isn't here to see it. Talk about gut-wrenching.

I remember right before Tonya died, when we knew she was terminal, Tonya and I were talking about how expensive Madison's dress was for her junior prom. Tonya said, "Well, I'm not going to see her in her wedding dress, so I told her to get it."

I'll never forget that.

Madison looked beautiful in her dress that cost more than my wedding dress. (Since when did that happen?)

I'm not sure how she made it all night in those shoes. Those are what I call 15 minute shoes.

As I'm taking Madison's pictures, I look over at my youngest niece, Avery, who is holding this big beautiful butterfly in the middle of this urban/industrial area. I asked her where she got it and she said it was just sitting on the ground a few feet from us. I'm not talking about one of those tiny little butterflies, I mean this butterfly was showing off it knowing it was so huge and beautiful.

For those of you who don't know, my sister's middle name means butterfly and shortly after her death we released butterflies in her memory and it was also very symbolic with her battle with cancer.

That butterfly stayed on my niece's hand for at least 5 minutes, and then went to each girls' hand. It stayed nearly the entire time we took photos. I've had small whispers of her presence since her passing, but this wasn't just a whisper, this was as good as Tonya just showing up and saying, "Hey girls, what's up? It's me, Mama and ain't no way I'm missing my baby's senior prom."

 I can't shake this from my mind. I know that without a doubt it was her. And how perfect that even after her death she finds a way to still be a mama, because more than anything that was what was most important to her.

So I know next week when my niece is walking across that stage to get her diploma and in everything in her life thereafter that her mama, without a doubt, isn't missing a thing. She's there and just when we think she's missed some life event, she sends us a sign to say, "I'm here."

I'm so grateful for this visit from her even as brief as it was.

"Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a beautiful butterfly." (Proverb)

Thanksgiving-Incredible Hulk style

Hi there, I’m Andrea, your long lost blogger. Oh my, I don’t think I’ve ever been this bad about blogging and keeping up. Guess that’s the life of having three kids and working two jobs. Extra time is pretty much nonexistent in our house.

Thanksgiving was a busy week. Who am I kidding...like there aren’t busy weeks?! I had 12 photo sessions that week! Yes, 12 and I’m still editing. I’ve seen hours past midnight a lot these days. I’m grateful for the growing photography business but looking forward to a slower December when I promised my family no sessions so I could celebrate the holidays with them.

The major kink in our week was Landry coming down with croup. My amazing husband took care of all three while I went on a girls’ trip, and with Landry being sick. He is a rock star. After a week of not getting better and possibly worse, we went back to the doctor and they ended up putting her on steroids and an antibiotic. Within hours, we noticed that she began to sound better. Poor thing sounded like she had been smoking a pack a cigs. The bad news was that the steroids made my otherwise adorable and sweet baby girl turn into the Incredible Hulk. She seriously had ‘roid rage and it was a rough five days. Finally, the last day we couldn’t take it anymore and we didn’t give her her last dose. Suddenly, our sweet and happy girl was back. Glad she was back, but it was at a very tiring and frustrating cost.

Thanksgiving isn’t Thanksgiving without snuggling in bed and watching the parade. Well, the boys snuggled anyway.

Landry screamed holy terror and I almost didn’t get a picture of it. She wanted NOTHING to do with the parade. We managed to snap our annual Thanksgiving picture in the backyard with our beautiful sweet gum tree that perfectly turns the week of Thanksgiving.

The boys were working the Heisman pose like no other.

 

And this is the best we could get from Landry Kate during her 'roid rage. 

 

Next, we headed to my parents’ house. My brother came in with his kids and it had been June since I saw them. It was so great seeing my nieces and nephews. The boys loved playing football in the backyard with their big cousin, Warren.

The food was awesome, as always. I don't know what I'm going to do when they pass the torch for me to cook the turkey. That just seems too grown up for me to do.

My brother and his boys checked out the Black Friday ads and even were brave enough to go shopping.

I went Black Friday night when I discovered we were down to our last diaper. I was scared to go, but I was pleasantly surprised to see that Target was a ghost town and I even bought everything that I saw that was a deal! Double score! The trick is go when everyone else is so exhausted from earlier Black Friday sales.



My nieces Madison was there and looked gorgeous as always so I wanted to get some pictures of her with the kids.

Isn't she beautiful? Love her sweet smile. She told me she wanted me to Photoshop a blemish on her face. I told her it was just easier to do this...

It was a hard "first" Thanksgiving without my sister, Tonya. I was pretty proud that I only cried once. I thought of her a million times that day. I thought about how we would be scouring the Black Friday ads and how in her last couple of years, we would go shopping and I would joke with her that her wheelchair was slowing me down and she needed to upgrade to a jazzy scooter.

But having Madison there with us helped heal the wound. I wish my other nieces could have been there that day too because being with them helps.

In the midst of playing in the backyard, we saw a butterfly. For those of you who don't know, my sister's middle name means butterfly. I'd like to think that was her celebrating with us on Turkey Day. I mean how many butterflies have you seen at the end of November?

Yeah, me neither.

There's still so much to be grateful for in our lives and this year has taught me more than ever that people mean the very most.

Butterflies in the Garden

Finding a family friendly outing with three kids can be challenging to say the least. Working around nap times, finding something that's not too expensive, loading them all up, chasing them around all make it sometimes easier just to stay home.

But we had Good Friday off of school this year and I got a great deal to see Butterflies in the Garden at the Botanical Gardens here in town. Once I managed to get everyone loaded up and happy, we were set. Well, ok so maybe I called in Grandma and Granddad for backup. Don't judge.

We had to wait a while but when you're waiting at the Botanical Gardens, the wait doesn't seem so bad.

Landry was in the baby snuggli with my dad. My poor dad's shoulders, I'm sure he was probably rubbing icy hot on his shoulders after such a beating.

 The conservatory was so amazing. You couldn't take a step without seeing vibrant butterflies fluttering by and resting on a nearby branch saying in their own little way, "You think that one's beautiful? Well watch this!" It was a butterfly showdown if I've ever seen one.

Campbell was on full alert and going on a butterfly hunt.

We had a butterfly service for my sister after her battle with breast cancer and being surrounded by hundreds of beautiful butterflies was food for my soul.

Not including the conservatory, I've never seen as many butterflies as I have this Spring. I'm sure that a lot of it has to do with the connection of Tonya's middle name, Vanesse, means butterfly. But these little whispers of "I'm still here with you" that I hear everytime I see them flying around keep me reassured that her memory will forever be with me.

I worry my children will not remember her, or at least Nolan who is old enough to remember her. But everytime I see a butterfly for the rest of my life, I will look at it as an opportunity to describe their wonderful aunt who loved them dearly.

Perhaps what has meant more to me than anything is that many people, some of whom I hardly know, email me or tell me that they can't see a butterfly without thinking of Tonya. What a wonderful testimony that her story has had an impact on others, and her memory will continue to live.

With grieving, you find that at first everyone is there and supportive in every way. But as the days move on, people move on too. You ask youself how can people move on and act like nothing ever happened? But in another sense, you need that. You need it so you can move on from your pit of despair.

The kaleidoscope of butterflies might have just been exactly what this mama needed to begin "moving on". I've been terrified that I hadn't had a dream about Tonya. It took two very long months. But in my dreams? Tonya was doing my makeup and did one of my eyes and I looked like I could have given Angelina Jolie a run for her money with how beautiful she made me look. It's a dream, just go with me on this one, ok? So I tried doing the other eye, and I ended up looking like a raccoon! We burst into laughter. I love that even in my dreams, she was healthy, beautiful and we were like we always were...sisters laughing.

“You will lose someone you can’t live without,and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.”
― Anne Lamott

And I'm still learning to dance.
 

Catchin' Up

Finding joy. It's a Catch 22. I crave it like a druggie, for lack of a better word. But once it sneaks up on me, I sometimes feel guilty that I'm experiencing it like somehow I'm betraying my sister by smiling since her death. Logical, I know, right?

But I don't care how melancholy you are, when you see your kids jumping on the trampoline with football helmets in their underwear because they're so skinny they can't keep their pants up, joy sneaks in and stays awhile.

Family and friends are the keys to healing. I hug tighter and look for those moments where time slips away.

Before Tonya passed, my grandfather, whom we lovingly call Big Daddy, came in town. It's been almost four years since we saw him last but the boys just picked up like they saw him yesterday. Sometimes it amazes me that my Yakee Native American grandfather is related by blood to my blond hair, blue-eyed boy. And then I see their ears, and I see the resemblance.

And Miss Landry Kate didn't disappoint in her cuteness factor in her debut of meeting her great grandfather for the first time.

"Oh hey, Big Daddy. What? Me? Cute? Really, I mean...well if you say so, " said by my genius 6 month old daughter who is already speaking in full sentences.

Landry's middle name, Kate, is a tribute to both of her great-great-grandmothers' names, one of which is Big Daddy's mother.

My cousin, Scott and his wife, Myra, were also in town from California and we have loved getting to see them twice in less than a year.

Myra is about to be a grandma in a few months and it looks like she's going to be just fine with her already fine tuned baby skills.

How do you know you have the most caring in-laws in the world? When they drive nearly 1,000 miles when you lose your sister to be there for you and help with the kids when you need it the most. I wasn't the only one who needed them, the kids were pretty crazy about them.

The hugs, the love, the laughs, the cuddles are the best band-aid during this time. Every time I experience the joy from it, I realize that guilt I was feeling really isn't guilt, it's medicine.

Thank you God for surrounding me and my family with love. I cherish every second of it.

Broken

January 19, 2012 is a day I will never forget. Earlier that day I remembered that it was my Uncle Mike's birthday, a dear uncle who tragically died in a car crash in his mid 30s. I specifically remember thinking just how sad it was that he died so young and when my cousins were so young as teenagers. 

Later that evening, my world was shattered when I received a call from my mom who told me that my sister, Tonya, received the devastating news that her cancer was terminal...as in no other treatments options. Her breast cancer battle started June 2010 at the age of 39 and was followed with months of chemo, radiation and now I'm hearing from my mom that there's nothing more that they can do. The doctor more or less said chemo would only shorten her life and she needed to go and be with her family. 

I couldn't drive to her house quick enough and I ran to her and couldn't let go. I will never forget what she said through her tears, "I'm sorry, I tried so hard to fight." The days that followed = me an absolute wreck.

All that I could think of was everything she meant to me and everything I still needed her for.  

I spent the next month driving back and forth as much as I possibly could with her living nearly an hour away. Tonya would text me often and I would ask about her pain and always her answer was that the pain was nearly unbearable. I can't tell you how excruciating it is to hear someone you love so much tell you how much pain they're in and there's nothing you can do to help. 

On February 25, 2012 my beautiful sister lost her battle but was quite the fighter. She is the mother of three beautiful and smart girls that are 16, 13, and 11. The night before, my two youngest nieces spent the night with me and as we were cooking breakfast, I got the call that she was going and going fast. We flew as fast as we could while my sister fought for every breath in her last moments. She was surrounded by family holding hands, embracing each other as we cried and prayed over her. There is no doubt in my mind that she was holding on to see her girls and her family and hear from all of us that as much as it pained us, that we were going to be alright and it was okay to let go. 

I've never had a harder day in my life than that day. While I feel like it was a blessing to be there with her and tell her that I love her, the image of her in those last moments is absolutely haunting me and one I cannot get out of my mind every time I close my eyes. 

I spoke at Tonya's memorial service and was a ball of nerves. It took me about 5 minutes, or so it seemed, before I started my eulogy about her but I knew that no one would understand a word if I went into my ugly cry, and boy was I ever so close. 

Here are the words that I shared that day:

I recently read an article about a professor along with a group of researchers carried out a study that said that having a sister helped to promote good mental health. 

He said, "Sisters appear to encourage more open communication and cohesion in families. However, brothers seem to have the alternative effect. (Sorry, Bo, no offense) Emotional expression is fundamental to good psychological health and having sisters promotes this in families." 

I truly believe that your sister is your first best friend. Being that Tonya was 8 years older than me, in more ways also made her my second mother. She experienced things ahead of me and her experience and wisdom was often the topic of long phone conversations. 

Growing up, I was her shadow. I was completely her tag-along and was there even in those years where little sisters were “uncool” and normally cramping a teenager’s style. She couldn’t even get rid of me if she tried. I even tagged along in the summers to her work when she was a nanny. I’ve lost count how many times she gave me rides to volleyball games, work, and even dances when I was too embarrassed to have Mom and Dad drive me. I completely idolized her. I remember crying and telling my mom that I wanted “yellow” hair like Tonya when we were younger. I was always so envious of her thick beautiful hair. 

She was my “person” who didn’t hold back and told me the brutal honest truth like, “Andrea, what are you thinking wearing that white eye shadow” and “Sweetie, you really need to wax your lip.” Every person needs a “Tonya” to tell it to you straight. 

 If there ever were a pair of polar opposite sisters, it was Tonya and me. There were days that I wasn’t so sure she promoted good mental health but now looking back, those arguments and differences of opinion brought us closer. Tonya was fiery, spunky, and sassy but that seemed to be in my favor because most times I was not on the receiving end of it. She witnessed my worst and best and loved me anyway. She was the type that came to spend the night while my newborn son was hooked up to a machine for jaundice just so Justin and I could get more than an hour of sleep. She had many duties as a sister. She was also my mother, my cook, my chauffeur, my caregiver, my defense attorney (she saved my bottom from many a spankins), my personal press agent, my cheerleader and most often my shrink.

I remember when she had her girls and they felt like they were my own children. My sister could make some beautiful babies that was for sure. 

 When I became a mother, a closer bond began and I understood her more than ever.  We both love being a mother more than anything but Tonya was the one person I could count on to talk to about it when it got to be too hard to handle. She wouldn’t sugarcoat anything and would validate me that it was ok to feel that way. With the birth of every child we’ve been in the waiting room for each other. The best way she showed me her love was by loving my children. 

And my children loved her so much. When Tonya lost her hair, I gave Nolan a talk that Aunt Tonya was going to look different on our way to visit her. He asked me, “Is her name still Tonya? Did her voice change? So in his 4 year old mind, he was convinced that Tonya was a man since men are the only people that he’s seen bald. And when it came to my children, she was more grandmotherly and went immediately to defending them anytime I told her a story about some hair-pulling moment with them.

When Tonya first told me about finding the lump, it was one of those, “You better get that checked out” conversations. I cannot describe the 20 months after that that were filled with countless appointments, treatments, medications, hair loss, and pain. And here we find ourselves with her no longer in pain but yet our pain is so intense. Not the same blinding rush of pain she had during her days with cancer but the pain that feels like a part of us died because you can’t live very long without a heart and our hearts are completely broken.

The hardest part of this is speaking of her in the past tense. Saying I “had” a sister rather than “have” feels like I just swallowed box full of nails as I try to form that one word. 

I’m not a professor and I don’t have research to back it up but I didn’t need a study to tell me that my sister promoted my psychological health. Let us all remember Tonya, not as a woman battling cancer, but as that fiery, spunky, and loving woman that will live on in all of us. 

*********

Tonya's middle name, Vanesse, means butterfly. We had a butterfly release service at our church to symbolize so many things about her new journey as an angel and free of cancer. The service was absolutely uplifting and very therapeutic. Her beautiful and brave girls whispered prayers into the envelopes that carried the butterflies and released them.

After I said my prayer and released my butterfly, it lingered on my finger. It was exactly what I needed to know that she's still with me.  

 

She did the exact same thing for mom on her shirt sleeve and I'm so sure it was her way of saying, "Everything's going to be ok."

 

And so now the journey of healing begins and the best way I can describe it is looking at a huge mountain that seems impossible to climb and knowing that it's going to be so painful and you're going to fall down again, but the only way up is taking it one step at a time. 

The memories are seriously everywhere. Right now they are so painful but I know that one day, those memories will be such a source of joy.  I know she's with me, I feel her but I miss her like crazy. 

I love you Tonya. 

Love your Anna Banana