Wednesday, March 20, 2013

So This Is Normal

I've spent much of the last week playing back the final moments of normalcy in our lives. Rewind. Play. Rewind. Play. Trust me, if I had a pause button I would've pressed it by now (and quite possibly would've lived in the memory of tucking Addie into her own bed for the rest of my life).

For me, normal ended at about 12:23 p.m. on March 20 when I called Scott to see how Addie's appointment went. Normal ended as he struggled to string three words together.

"Addie has leukemia."

Normal ended with a punch to the gut and a cry I've never heard come out of my mouth.

Normal ended with a little girl looking up at her mom and dad and saying, "So I have cancer?"

It came to a grinding halt as that little girl grew quiet and her mom and dad considered the road we had ahead.

I was ready for that road. 

Not this one.

I've written long and hard and late into the night, but I've chosen not to share much of that here. 

Today this is all I've got.

Quote: Dwight L. Moody

Because spending the day talking to my little girl sounds like what I need to do. And so totally normal. 


  1. Sending (((hugs))). You have all been in my thoughts and prayers.

  2. I so wish you and Scott didn't have to go through any of this. My heart just aches for you all as you go through your new normal. Prayers are being said as I have everyday for you and your wonderful family. Can't believe it's been a year since this terrible nightmare started for you. Enjoy your talk with Addie today, may that give you some peace and comfort my friend.

  3. Praying for you every night when I ask for healing for all those that are grieving. Especially those who have lost a child. It has to be such a hard time for you. I think of you guys often.

  4. Praying for your comfort and daily strength everyday-many times a day.

  5. Prayers are with you and your family. Much of my family will be walking for Addie on the 30th, I didn't know Addie, but I certainly wish I would have.

  6. I had the chance to be the teachers assistant for Addie's reading group. She has touched my life in so many ways. Addie was an amazing little girl and her time here was short but she touched many lives. I am so glad I got to meet her and glad I could have a live like Addie night at a volleyball game for my senior year. I can't believe it has been a year already and I pray for you and your family everyday. Addie is greatly missed here in Syracuse and she will always be remembered as a very special little girl.

  7. I'm so sorry for your loss. My heart aches for you. Your beautiful Addie, she must be listening to your every word. Im so, so sorry.

  8. Jamie,
    Your family has been on my mind a lot recently. This month we marked the one year anniversary of my mom's death. Knowing that I will never again be able to say "last year" in reference to her is another hurt that I'm "getting used to." Your family is never far from my thoughts. As we approach the one year "anniversary" (there should be a more appropriate word... but I couldn't think of one) of Addie's death I want you to know you will all continue to be in my thoughts and prayers and if it's ok, I'll ask my mom to hug her for you guys.

  9. Jamie - this is Gayle from Group...Read the article about your precious Addie in the paper today. Wanted to reach into that picture and give her hug. The Journal also did an article on Kelly after his accident so can understand how it pulled on your heart strings to see/read it but what a great article about precious Addie, and, what a great way to honor her at the Run. My heart is with you as you go through this journey that none of us want to, but that we must. You are so strong and I am sure Addie sees that strength in you still and how she was so blessed to have you as her mom. I will try to come to the Run on Saturday, even though I can't RUN :)but would like to support your cause. Blessings to you and your family as you go on through this week...just know that you are in many a heart this week especially....!