An Answered Prayer

Soon after Nash died I remember saying that if I could just dream of him things would be a little easier because I'd "be with him" every night. Since July I've only dreamt of him twice that I can actually remember. And yet every night as I fall asleep I pray that God will bring Nash to me in my dreams...

Last night I dreamt of Nash. I don't remember much except that Brad, my mom and I were taking turns holding him. In the dream we knew that we only had a certain number of days left with him. We knew he'd be leaving soon. I remember I just kept staring at him and looking at him, trying to remember every part of him. I kept touching the back of his neck and playing with his hair. It wasn't really a sad dream - we were all so happy to be holding him. It's almost like how I imagine it would be if he came back for just a minute or two... very peaceful and quiet. Just holding him tightly and staring at his precious face - taking it all in.

I had mixed emotions when I woke up. I was so happy to have seen Nash and yet so sad that the dream had to end. This may have been why my emotions got the better of me many times today - especially this morning. I feel so thankful that I had this dream last night. And it couldn't have come at a more appropriate time... exactly one year ago today Nash was baptized... I have to believe that there's more to it than a simple coincidence.

People often ask what they can do for us and for me. I answer them by asking for prayers for comfort and peace. But maybe I could add another one to that list... pray for more dreams to come. Pray that I go to sleep at night and get to have a date with my little boy.

Sweet Dreams Y'all,
Tracy

A Present From Pa

Just a quick note... tonight on our way to our weekly Friday night dinner with my parents, my dad, Tate, and I stopped by a sporting goods store. Tate was quite thrilled to leave with two new helmits - one blue bike helmet and one shiny red batting helmet that he proudly wore around the entire store.

We've been home for almost three hours now and he still has the red one on his head. He's been riding his big wheel in circles all night and won't take it off. I did set it on the counter during bathtime, but only because I convinced him it would get ruined if it got wet. We just got him into bed and he STILL had it on while I was reading him some books. He asked if he could sleep with it...

Our solution.

Love to y'all,
Tracy

Kansas City

We got back last night from our weekend trip to Kansas City. Brad's sister and family live right outside KC and we were going to help celebrate our newest nephew's baptism. A lot of you know that this sweet little boy was born six days after Nash's birthday and his name is Colton Nash Miller.
Honestly speaking, I was very nervous to meet Colton... I feel a very special connection between he and I, but I was so afraid to actually see him, let alone hold him. However, as soon as we walked in the door of their house, I scooped him up and held him as close as I could get him. This first time was hard because the last time I really held a baby, he was cold and still in my arms. It was difficult to get that image from my mind. But the more I held Colton, the more natural it felt and the more I enjoyed it.

He is such a good baby and so beautiful. My favorite was changing his tiny diapers and holding him as he slept (which was a lot!). As much as I wish I were holding Nash, I was happy that I was physically able to hold a little boy and not completely break down. It may sound silly, but I wanted to be sure that I wasn't pretending that Colton was Nash. And I was proud of myself for accepting this and still enjoying my time with him.

Of course, there were things that were similar... just hearing those little coos and grunts of a new baby were reminiscent of our days with our sweet boy. Or watching him twitch or gurgle as he slept. He was wearing the same jammies that Nash had, which made a lot of memories come back. But through it all, I found myself happy to be connected to this new little miracle, while still holding my own little boy so closely in my heart.

Sunday was more difficult than I had anticipated it to be. The actual baptism service was very nice. But standing up there (we are his godparents) as they announced Colton's name made my heart wretch with pain. Just one year ago, everyone was down here celebrating Nash's baptism. I think the whole family had a very hard time that afternoon... Nash was on everyone's minds and hearts. And yet, I know that he was there with us, welcoming his cousin into his life as a child of God.

Brad, me, Eric, Colton, Jill, and Steven at the baptism.

The boys ringing the bell after church!

Tate had a wonderful time playing with Colton's two year old brother, Cade. They were connected at the hip and the very best of friends. Tate also was very aware of Colton and was thrilled to be able to hold him. I loved watching him interact with the baby, but it was very bittersweet as well. The first night we got to KC, we were all eating and Tate quietly walked over to Colton, who was lying on the floor. He laid down on his belly, looking down at him, watching him so intently. He later told his Uncle Steven, "I love Baby Colton. He's just like Baby Nash. I love Baby Nash too." I hate that my two year old has to miss his brother and that there is nothing I can do to fix that for him. My heart ached as I watched him with Colton.

Tate and Colton cuddling on the couch.

Tate covering Colton with his most prized possession... his blankie!

Tate watching his new cousin.

Tate and Cade pretending to sleep.

Best Buddies
Boys will be boys...

Tate, the bike rider!

Great Grandpa Sievers and the boys

Uncle Steven

Sweet Baby Colton

We are so blessed to have an amazing family. Our weekend trips always end way too soon. Eric, Jill, Cade, and sweet Colton: Thank you for a great weekend. We love you so much and can't wait to see you again this summer. Take care of each other.

Love to y'all,

Tracy

A Scary Weekend

I know that my life is anything but normal. I know that the path that I am traveling isn't one that most people ever lay foot on. I am well aware of the fact that I still have such a long way to go... there isn't an end to the pain; there will never be a day when things are "okay" again. However, there are minutes (and sometimes hours) that go by when I'm doing reasonably well.

Friday evening was one of them... Tate and I were outside, waiting for Brad to get home from work so that we could all go to our friends' house for our very first Crawfish Boil! It was 5:30 and my phone rang. My mom's voice was strained on the other end of the line. She simply said, "I'm going to Chicago tonight. Your brother was hit by a car." WHAT??? I just kept thinking, "He doesn't have a car, so what do you mean he was hit by a car?" Then my heart sank as I understood what that meant. All my mom knew was that he was conscious and in the back of an ambulance, heading to a downtown Chicago hospital.

I literally sank to the grass as I hung up the phone. Flashbacks of eight months ago went screaming through my mind. I know exactly what it feels like to get on a plane and race to your child, praying that everything will be okay. And I also know the gripping terror inside when you realize that your baby isn't going to make it. All of this came rushing back as I got to my knees and pleaded with God to help my brother be strong.

Trent was taken to the Trauma Center of the hospital and after CAT scans, X-rays, and numerous exams, we found out he suffered a concussion, received six stitches in the back of his head, had a broken right collar bone, a separated left shoulder, and lots of large scrapes and bruises. So despite the pain and long road to recovery, we are PRAISING God for these injuries. We know too well that things could have been a lot worse.

We have since found out that my brother, Trent, age 24, was riding his bicycle back from work to meet his girlfriend. He was crossing a four-way stop (he had the right of way). A car stopped and then continued through the intersection without seeing my brother and he was hit.

I have talked to Trent since the accident and it was such a relief to hear his voice. I adore my brother and am so thankful for him. I know that it will take a long time for his pain to subside, but I have faith that God will keep him strong and carry him through his toughest days.

I appreciate all the prayers being sent Trent's way. And I'm so grateful for the way my friends have surrounded me with love since they've heard of the accident. I love you all. Now go call your siblings and tell them you love them!

Love to y'all,
Tracy

Eight Months

It's March 1st. Eight months ago today Nash went to heaven.

I can't believe I'm through two-thirds of the first year without him. Four months from today will be one entire year. I just cannot get over the fact that the clock keeps ticking; that the days keep going; that the calendar continues on. Each month that we get through brings us farther from the time that Nash was here and I hate that. As much as time is supposed to heal, it also does it's fair share of hurting.

I get so afraid that I am going to start forgetting little things. I want to remember EVERYTHING. Every single look, every smile, every cry... everything. I want to remember every centimeter of his precious body... And I'm just so terrified that over time, those things will fade, like most of my other memories. Time has a tendency of making memories a little less clear; a little blurred around the edges and I don't want that to happen when it comes to Nash.

The night Nash died, I got to hold him for almost six hours, wrapped in blankets, waiting for Brad to get to the hospital. This is one moment I know I will never forget. I clearly remember how beautiful he looked, lying in my arms. It seems so cliche' but he was so peaceful. His sweet little face, so angelic. His scent still lingering on his skin. I don't think that vision will ever leave my mind. And, as hard as it was, I wouldn't have it any other way. It was the last time I would hold my son.

So today is just one of many that have proven to be difficult. And I know that these days will continue - that there isn't a time when these days will just stop. Every breath I take reminds me that I am not whole and never will be. But I am learning how to cope with it and understanding that Nash is still with me, just in a different way.

I am incredibly proud to be Nash's mom. And I have said it so many times: If God would've told me, "I have a child for you. But he will only live with you for just over five months. Do you still want him?" There is no doubt that my answer would have been yes.

So my sweet, sweet, Nashy... If I had it to do all over again, knowing everything I know now. The pain, the anguish, the despair, the desperate longing for my son... I still would have chosen you. Every time, Baby, every single time.

Love to y'all,

Tracy