A special half marathon goal

On Sunday I will run my second half-marathon (or thirteener as some like to say). I've been training for it for 16 weeks now and I think I'm ready. I've been thinking a lot about my goals and time and running and what's important. Last year I did it in 2:15:02 which was exactly my A goal. It would be great if I can do it faster this year, it would be good if I can make it close to that. But honestly, I only have one goal in mind.

I'm going to run each mile with little Fallon Jade Rilling on my mind and in my heart. A year ago today she was born and I remember talking about her as I was running last year's race. Worrying because she wasn't doing well. I had no way of knowing she would live such a short life. Just 11 days. She was born with a very rare--but rare doesn't mean impossible--disorder called Alveolar Capillary Dysplasia. There was nothing they could do, no way to prevent it (that we know of), no way to cure. More research is needed to help parents from having to experience this horror. The Rillings have raised an amazing amount of money on their own but until there's a cure, it's not enough. 

If you'd like to donate to her birthday fund: http://www.gofundme.com/Fallon-Jade-Rilling . If you'd rather donate directly, you can do so here: http://www.acd-association.com .

I've already donated to her birthday fund but I feel like I have to do more. If I had my butt in gear earlier I would have set up some kind of fundraising thing, but my butt is rarely in gear these days. So, whatever my average pace is for this half-marathon, I will multiply it by 13.1 and donate that as well.

If you can't spare any extra money right now, please honor Fallon by being grateful and satisfied with your lives. If I could pack up some peace and joy and send it to the Rillings I would. If you're the praying sort, perhaps you could send some their way?

Little pangs

Facebook is having their 10 year anniversary and making little movies of highlights for people. The very first picture in mine is of Isaac. Which is fitting since I've been thinking a lot about him lately.

Mostly I've been thinking about how different our lives would be if he were still here. We wouldn't bring Haze down to LI with us. I would have to lock up the dogs whenever Chewie's speech teacher comes or we have playdates or it's nap time and I don't want any barking. The biggest thing though is LightRunner. He and Haze have a bond. They curl up together, he follows her around saying "Heze, Heze." He pets her and grabs her little face and she is the BEST dog ever and tolerates everything he does and just cuddles into him.

Which would never happen with Isaac here. First, Haze wouldn't pay as much attention because she would be too busy licking Isaac. But mostly Isaac wouldn't want LightRunner anywhere near him. Well, that's not true. But he certainly would not tolerate LightRunner crawling on their bed for a snuggle! I would have to jump every time LightRunner went near him. Not that Isaac would seek him  out to hurt him, but that he just did not have the patience for shenanigans that Haze does. It is so unbelievably cute seeing Haze and LightRunner curled up together sitting on our speech teacher's feet. And every time I see it and smile there's a little pang of guilt that it's so much easier without Isaac. Haze is easier to calm down, barks less, there's no play-fighting to scare people away. I don't have to worry as much. Which is really nice, but really sad at the same time. LightRunner will never say "I-a bark" like SkyWalker did but I console myself knowing that Haze and LightRunner wouldn't have the relationship they do with Isaac here and that relationship is pretty special and that sometimes things work out for a reason.

The sisterhood of mothers

Last night the Princess asked me to read her Someday by Alison McGhee, a book that chokes me up on an ordinary day. I read as much as I could, trying not to cry, and when I got to the page about one day you will hear such sad news that your body will fold with sorrow I could barely get through the sentence. We finished the book and I quietly cried and then noticed that she too was crying. I asked her why and she simply said "Because you are."

It is the crying we do for other people's pain that is the hardest to stop.

Yesterday was no ordinary day.

Yesterday I learned that a friend of mine from high school lost his 11 day old baby. I had been following her progress on Facebook since the day she was born. I had been hoping and wishing and even forced my heathen self to say a prayer or twenty. I asked friends to do the same. But yesterday she lost her fight and they lost her.

I haven't seen my friend in 20 years. I have never met his wife. But I cried for them. I cried in the preschool pick up line. I cried in the shower. I cried myself to sleep.

They talk a lot about the mommy wars. Working moms, stay at home moms, breastfeeding moms, formula feeding moms, attachment moms, um, non-attachment moms. Screw that. We are all mothers. Mothers who love their children. Mothers who love ALL children. When one of us hurts, we all hurt. When one of us cries out in sorrow, we all cry out in sorrow. This is the sisterhood of mothers. While I cannot hope to know the pain, to fully understand it, I feel a paler version of it. I feel it for you. I cry for you. Today I give you my sadness, my tears, my anguish. I hope tomorrow to give you my strength. To give you some small solace in knowing that you are not alone in your pain. That I will not forget. This is the sisterhood of mothers. You are not alone. We are not alone.

One day

Tomorrow it will be 4 weeks since Isaac has died. In many ways it seems like an eternity has passed, but yet I still feel like I am out there on the deck watching helplessly.

It's not easy to grieve for a dog. Or a pet. People don't expect you to do it. They don't quite get it. There are no funerals or rituals or ceremonies to help you grieve and move on. So it tends to linger.

We move through our days. Quietly. Trying not to notice the absence. Trying not to feel the emptiness.

Haze sleeps a lot. She wants to be close always. She lays under the table as we eat, not begging, just being close. I let her.

I am glad that I am home. Glad that I have filled my house with loud children for her to follow and love. If I were working I am sure I would have quit by now just to stay with her. She has always been a people-dog. I am sure that one day she will be fine. We both will. One day.