While it was hard to live far away from our families when Hailey took ill and passed away, our friends and neighbors took care of us in a way that allowed our family more freedom to worry with us, visit with Hailey, and mourn with us on their own terms when they came to visit. Our friends and neighbors viewed with clarity what we needed most, be it dinners, having our house professionally cleaned, or formalized childcare for our toddler so we could all spend more time at the hospital as Hailey's health deteriorated. We will be forever grateful.
When it eventually became time to let Hailey go, the military lifestyle presented me with one of my greatest heartaches: there was no way for me to keep our daughter with us, short of cremating her, which wasn't something I wanted to do. Because we move around every few years, no matter where I buried her, I was all but guaranteed not to be able to visit with Hailey. So we made the best decision we could, and chose to bury her in between my grandfather and aunt up in Massachusetts. We knew my husband would soon be deploying and that I'd likely go home to visit with family, and it would be my best opportunity to spend time by Hailey's side once again.
It hurt to come back to Kansas, where we currently live, and have no place to sit with Hailey. Trying to look on the bright side, I thought maybe it would force me to keep moving forward because unlike other parents who have lost a child, I couldn't go to my daughter's graveside every day, every week, or even every month. But, in a way, I've just felt...untethered.
When your child dies so young, you worry that they didn't have their chance to leave a mark on this world. Many members of our own families never even got to meet Hailey before she passed. They didn't get to see the light in her eyes or feel how gently she would snuggle into you. They didn't get to see how hard she fought back from death's door multiple times. And looking back now and seeing it all in hindsight, I marvel at the pain and discomfort she suffered through with such grace. Just to be with us for as long as she could.
Without being by her graveside, and with life moving forward here, sometimes I desperately look through all of the pictures I have of our daughter to remind myself she was really here. That we really lost a child. Our sweet, sweet baby girl. In reality, I want her with me always and look through the photos almost every night before I go to bed.
And then some days, when I FaceTime my Mom in Massachusetts, I find that she is at Hailey's graveside herself. It warms my heart to know that she and other members of my family tend to my daughter's resting place when I cannot. One day, my Mom even sent me this photo of the angel statue nestled above Hailey. It had just snowed in Boston, but you will notice how just the two leaves beneath the angel happen to be green when everything else around had turned to brown. I took that as a blessing from my sweet baby.Little did I know that our military community here at Fort Leavenworth would still lift us up in not only our moment of illness and loss, but also in mourning and healing. I cried when my neighbor told me she had gotten the approval to plant a memorial garden for Hailey here on post, in the field across from our house. I cried when she told me the post landscaping company is donating a sitting bench and will maintain the garden for all the years to come. I cried at the local group of work-out Moms who are donating all the balloons for a memorial release at the dedication ceremony this Sunday. I cannot tell everyone how much this means to me.
My desperate need for people to KNOW my daughter led me to beg the medical staff who cared for her to attend her baptism and going home ceremony. It is why we invited our family, friends, and neighbors...really anyone who would come and bear witness to her existence, to be with us in that moment. It is why I write this blog. (It is why so many people who lose someone they love start a charity of some sort: they find healing in giving purpose to their suffering and loss.)
Thanks to our community here at Fort Leavenworth, my daughter is physically leaving her mark on this world, and not just with her tombstone. She will leave behind a beautiful place for people to rest and enjoy the tulips as they bloom each spring and signify rebirth. They will read her name on a brass plate and maybe they will spend a few moments contemplating her.
It has been four months since Hailey passed and these folks here at Fort Leavenworth are still loving us through it, and understanding what my aching Mama's heart needs even better than I do myself. This military life is hard, and I miss sitting with my daughter, but God has blessed us with the people who surround us here.
(I will be sure to post photos of the big dedication day once I have them! A bunch of folks from the hospital are even coming up for it, and I am so thankful for how much they have loved us, too.)
With love and a grateful heart.
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