tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11894551538141626482023-11-16T00:16:53.865-06:00Liv LifeLiv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.comBlogger148125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-8335001625189731452018-09-09T21:13:00.000-05:002018-09-09T21:13:10.868-05:00Light<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2 weeks from today will be one year. One year. I can't even wrap my head around the fact that it's been one year. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A year of....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">missing</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">confusion</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">seeking</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ache</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">pain</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">hurt</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">tears</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">isolation</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But, also a year of....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">growth</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">peace</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">gratitude</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">loss of fear</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">awareness</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">learning</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">patience</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The days surrounding Livia's passing were extremely hot. I can remember at one point sitting on my closet floor struggling to know what to wear. I wanted to be comfy in leggings, a t-shirt, and a sweater. I wanted the fall weather. I wanted the cool, crisp September air. Instead, it was sweltering outside. I was uncomfortable. The day she died, the sun was out bright as ever. It was hot. I remember walking her body outside. Barefoot; stinging from the hot blacktop. We watched the car pull out of our drive with her body, and all we had left was the sun hitting our skin. The sun was now our comfort. Even this summer, Jake and I would sit in the heat and both remark how we used to hate the heat, and now it feels like a familiar friend sitting with us. The next few days after she died, we'd notice the sky. It wasn't like we hadn't seen the vibrant, painted sky before, but now it was different. We'd notice the sky and feel a sense of calm. Like it was being painted just for us. It was a comfort, and a reminder of her. Maybe it's because of the way Livia painted our life with her own light. We'd always sing to her:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: start;">You are my sunshine, my only sunshine</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #222222; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: start;">You make me happy when skies are gray</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #222222; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: start;">You'll never know dear, how much I love you</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #222222; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: start;">Please don't take my sunshine away</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Programme, sans-serif; text-align: start;">It's funny because when we'd sing this song to her when she was really little, she'd cry. I think she knew there was a sadness to this song. It wasn't a full on cry, but a quiver in her lip or short whimper. When I looked up this song, the first verse of the song is this:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The other night dear, as I lay sleeping</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I dreamed I held you in my arms</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I bowed my head and I cried</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have not dreamt of Livia this year. I've hardly dreamt at all. I've always been a literal dreamer, and have remembered my dreams. All I've wanted is to have a dream of her. One that feels so real. One that we have a conversation. One that she tells me she's ok. One that she assures me that when we see the vivid painted sky, that it is really her giving us a sign. I know it will come. I hope it comes. One of my friends told me that I haven't dreamt of her yet because I spend so much of my awake time thinking of her, that it's my mind's opportunity to rest. I liked that. It's maybe true.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We continued to sing this song to Liv throughout the rest of her life. She really is our sunshine. As is Finley. Our girls bring so much light into our lives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The September skies have been showing up lately. I grab my camera almost every sunrise and sunset to freeze the fleeting colors. I especially love the quiet mornings when the colors catch me off guard. It's like a nice surprise. It's like a familiar friend showing up to say hi! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On September 23rd, we will be launching lanterns into the September sky. Our hope is that you will join us. We'd love to look out over our community and see the sky light up as we remember our girl who lit up our lives. (here are some environmentally safe lanterns that you can write a message on. <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Eco-White-Wish-Lanterns-Pack/dp/B004740PIC/ref=sr_1_12_sspa?ie=UTF8&qid=1536525888&sr=8-12-spons&keywords=chinese+sky+lanterns+biodegradable&psc=1" target="_blank">LANTERNS</a>) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The lists I put in the beginning; you can't have one without the other. That pain and miss that we feel because she's no longer physically with us goes with the gratitude that we had her. The peace of knowing her broken body is no longer holding her back is comfort, but it will never stop the hot tears from coming. It's resting in knowing that both are ok. Both will be forever. It will always take work. </span></div>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-71767524251823519612018-05-22T15:12:00.001-05:002018-05-22T15:12:32.633-05:00Our "why"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I remember the exact moment I saw this sonogram photo. I remember the waiting room, and the exact spot I was sitting. It was one month before she would arrive. I remember the excitement and anticipation of actually holding her in my arms. Seeing what she would look like. I was ready. This sonogram photo took my breath away. It was the first time I really felt like I could see her face. It was before the time 3-D sonograms were offered regularly. I knew in that waiting room, at that exact moment that her name would be Livia. There was no doubt in my mind. Little did I know at that moment how fitting her name really would be.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The reason we started the Liv Life Foundation was to do </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">something. </i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We couldn't sit by and hope that a cure would be found by not trying ourselves. Our hope was that maybe, just maybe </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">that</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> one dollar we raised would be the dollar to find a cure. It was our hope. It was fitting to name the foundation Liv Life. We called her Liv, and our mission was to make the best of what we had and LIV life; to hopefully save her life so that she could LIV. For those of you that know the rest of the story, you know that it just wasn't in the cards for a cure to save her. We gave it our best effort with the foundation, but what I know for sure is that LIVing life with her was the cure for so much, and for so many.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So here we are with a foundation still in place with her name all over it. Livia means "life." To us, Liv Life means to enjoy, to be in community, to love other's, to inspire through generosity and kindness. It means to honor our days and be intentional with the time we have. Livia taught us that. There were days that it was hard to recognize, and there were days that were harder than other's to really fulfill that intention. Being a caregiver to another person presents challenges, both mentally and physically. Having a child, or anyone with a terminal diagnosis is stressful. LIVing daily with the time commitment as well as all of the "things" (equipment and supplies) you must have in order to LIV, doesn't always come easily. Most of the equipment and supplies that it takes for a typically developing child can be found at Target or on a quick run to the store of your choice. Many specialized pieces of equipment that it takes for growing and changing children that are ultimately declining, takes a lot of work to find and to obtain. We were very fortunate to have great insurance that helped us have an amazing palliative and hospice team, but not everyone has this. Not only is it access, it's rules and guidelines that many insurance companies require that takes a lot of phone calls, money, denials, referrals, appeals, etc. to even obtain a piece of equipment that a declining child needs in order to provide comfort and ease in their everyday life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is now our "why." Why we want Liv Life to continue to grow, and how we want to make a difference. We will continue to support research in the hopes that a cure will be found. We will not ignore that. However, it's time to make some changes within our foundation to help give other families an opportunity to LIV their days with their children just a little less stressful. To give them back just a little more intentional time. Our desire is to get into the community to help families with a child with a terminal diagnosis obtain a need in order to simply LIV. We are excited that this is already happening. We have made a connection with a local family that has been trying to obtain a car seat for their son since December. Liv Life Foundation has purchased their car seat and will be presenting it to them at our Winery Fundraiser on June 9th at DC Estate Winery.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Her name was put on my heart at the exact moment I saw that sonogram photo. That name will now carry on through this foundation that will, in turn, help others to LIV. We can be so proud of our daughter for that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For more information on the winery event and to purchase tickets to attend, please follow this link. </span></div>
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<a href="https://www.eventbrite.com/e/popping-a-cork-for-a-cure-tickets-44477438215" target="_blank">Popping a Cork for a Cure</a></div>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-9172575911804446192018-03-20T20:16:00.000-05:002018-03-20T20:16:27.113-05:00Declutter<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The end of this week will mark 6 months since I touched, held, smelled, or kissed my precious daughter. These 6 months have gone by so fast, and yet remembering the last moment that my lips touched her skin feels like forever ago. Her physical presence is missed more than I have words for, but I know where she is. I feel her with me, and around me. It brings me great peace, but can also bring me into heavy, heavy missing. It can take me to a place that looks like avoidance, isolation, unproductive busy-ness, and mindless distractions. All of these a push-back from what I really need to be doing in order to heal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I attended my second 'Restoring A Mother's Heart' conference this past weekend. It was an absolute gift to be welcomed into such a sacred space filled with transparency, vulnerability, raw emotion, and so so so much love. Attending this second time was very different than the first. I had a much different take away and learned more about myself, and tools that I need to implement into my life to help with the healing process. It wasn't easy to learn some of these "ah-ha" moments, but extremely necessary to acknowledge and start implementing the work towards.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Every presenter brought such wisdom and guidance at this retreat. Even the mom's attending were (ARE) my teachers. Their children are teaching me! One presenter in particular, who has also lost a daughter, has the beautiful gift of interior design. She talked to us about decluttering our homes and spaces in order to create an environment that we feel safe and comfortable in. Her daughter's room is still her daughter's room in the house. She tried to turn it into a sewing room at one time, but it didn't feel right. This session resonated with me for many reasons. Days before the retreat, I found myself having a photo shoot with a pile of laundry. A few year's ago we moved Livia downstairs. We created a beautiful bedroom for her, as well as remodeled a bathroom so that all of her care would be on the first level of our home. I still kept her upstairs room hers; including keeping her clothes in her dresser. Her window seat/toy box was an easy place to set her piles of clean folded laundry if I didn't have time to put them away. She had a pile on her window seat from before she died. I couldn't put them away. It was as if seeing those piles gave me a sense of her presence. I wasn't ready until I was ready. I organized the piles, and each item of clothing I touched brought me a memory, an ache, and a huge sense of her. It hurt, but I was ready. A few pieces of Liv's clothing were going to go into Finley's dresser. I love seeing Finley in Livia's clothes. The majority of the clothes went right back into Livia's dresser. I didn't have to get rid of them, but I was done looking at them every time I passed her room. I was ready to declutter. Not erase, just reorganize. The same theme of decluttering my heart rings true. This weekend, I discovered things about myself that need reorganized in order to allow healing. Healing, never forgetting or erasing. To declutter means "to remove unnecessary items from." For me, this means removing unnecessary shame and guilt that I carry with me which creates a <span style="background-color: white;">dialogue of doubt. I think that when you go through trauma or a situation that changes your life, there's nothing you can do to ever forget it. There may even be shame or blame attached to the situation, but what matters is how we declutter and reorganize the emotions attached. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Eckhart Tolle said </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I am not my thoughts, emotions, sense perceptions, and experiences. I am not the content of my life. I am Life. I am the space in which all things happen. I am consciousness. I am the Now. I Am.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My #1 strength finder is Developer. Basically, what that means is that I recognize and relay the potential in others. My "ah-ha" take away is that because I haven't decluttered my own heart, I couldn't even recognize my own potential. That the dialogue I had created has been holding me back from healing, and from pursuing. I'm tired of living my life this way. I'm tired of keeping to myself in order to protect myself. Livia is Jake + Kelly. Livia is a huge part of me. By reorganizing and believing in what I'm capable of, Livia will LIV on through what I do. What I say. She will LIV when I walk out of my home. People will see her when they meet me. I could see how much Livia had to offer. It's time to recognize the same for myself.</span></div>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-71274222422946174712018-01-23T18:30:00.000-06:002018-01-23T18:30:58.994-06:00Shift<div style="text-align: center;">
I've stopped counting the days. Counting from the moment that I watched her exhale her last breathe. When I physically felt her heart stop under my right palm. From the day that my existence as I'd known it for the last 10.5 years <i>shifted</i>.</div>
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Since that shift; confusion has set in. Exhaustion and isolation are felt more than ever. Grief is now a word I can use. Some days, breathing is hard. I find times when I whisper over and over: I love you, I love you, I love you. As if she can hear it in my thoughts. Or maybe, it's my internal alarm clock to remember. To think of her.</div>
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Since that shift; I'm functioning. Love still radiates at the center of everything. Maybe more so than ever. The recognition of time is at the forefront. I seek joy. Feeling joy in the simplicity of a deep breath. Satisfaction in a yoga class. Giving myself permission more than I ever have in my life. To say yes, to say no. Freedom. Embracing and mending my family. Speaking truth, and learning. The good stuff.</div>
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Since that shift; I've wondered. Wondered what people are thinking of me. Wondering if they see me. If they know. Wondering who will talk about her next. Loving when they do. Wondering how other hearts around me are doing. But, not always having the energy to ask myself. Wondering about this ache that creeps in unexpected and unannounced. Wondering if this mind wandering will always be a road block.</div>
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Since that shift; the miss gets stronger and stronger, but that's ok. You see, loving her, calling her mine is something I will never ever regret. That miss fuels me, even when it hurts like hell. That miss is a feeling created by the shift. The coupling of then and now. The braid of love, grief, and LIVing.</div>
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4 months. </div>
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Family update: Jake is pursuing his doctorate in education. His goal is to become a Superintendent. I'm inspired and motivated by him. We continue to have a balance within our relationship that carries us through this shift. New Year's was harder than Christmas for both of us. I think it's been the first time through all of this that we were both in that low place at the same time. </div>
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Finley is doing really really great. For a time after Livia passed, she missed a lot of time in the classroom. SIDE NOTE: our school distract has been an absolutely phenomenal support for Finley. We can not thank her teachers, social workers, and friends for being such a safe and caring place for Finley. Finley had a great Christmas break surrounded by many people who love her. Getting back into the routine of activities has been good for all of us. Finley is excelling and loving her dance classes. She joined 3rd grade choir. She brought home all A's and B's on her report card. She is my energy. I'm more in love with her today than I ever have been. She is a daily gratitude of mine. She sets a good example with her beliefs and prayers. When she says Livia's name, even with tears, it warms me.</div>
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Everyday is different for me. I have the most understanding and caring friends. People who are patient with me, and don't push me. I have friends that continue to hold my hand through this. People who text, and ask. One friend in particular has been writing me letters about once a month. It was more frequent right after Liv passed, but they are still showing up. I treasure her words, care, and love. It's a unique gift with no expectation back from me. MNM, if you are reading this, thank you. I love your heart. I'm back to teaching at the Y 3 days a week. As I mentioned earlier, I'm taking yoga as much as I can fit it in. There's something about the class, the instructor, and the mental clarity I receive when I'm in the class. Paying attention to my body, and my heart has been top priority. Meditation is the best time. It's a time that I sense Livia around me the most. Probably because it's forced quiet time that we all need! I'm pursuing a business that I'm incredibly passionate about. However, I'm my worst enemy when it comes to putting myself out there. Remember that mental road block I mentioned. Not only is that block present, a big ole' "caution sign" keeps flashing in front of me. No other reason beside my own self doubt, but that's another topic for another time.</div>
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Thank you for your continued love and support of my family. We are so blessed to be surrounded by a wonderful community of well intentioned people. Even those that live far from here; your love is a comfort.</div>
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One more update....We are hopeful and driven by the prospects of continuing and <i>shifting</i> the Liv Life Foundation. We have new ideas and hopes for the foundation. Thank you for your continued interest and support with Liv Life. </div>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-60738862308039770082017-10-27T10:30:00.002-05:002017-10-27T10:30:58.595-05:00Fuel for today<div style="text-align: center;">
Finley asked me this morning if on Christmas morning we'd have to wait for Livia before we opened presents. It took my breath away, and confused me.</div>
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I explained to her that Livia is in Heaven, and we won't see her again until we get there. She didn't dwell on it, and quickly moved passed the idea. She just said, "Ok, I think I'll sleep in then."</div>
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This has been a hard week. The hardest since. Just like Finley's question this morning, emotions and thoughts are so different and at times very confusing. Today, I feel determined, strong, and focused. I've set up a meeting for a volunteer opportunity that will hopefully help me grow, contribute, and get involved in something I'm very passionate about.</div>
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A lovely friend of mine blogged yesterday about her son and blueberry pancakes. You can read it <a href="https://familymctravels.blogspot.com/2017/10/pancakes.html" target="_blank">here</a>. It hit home because blueberry pancakes were Livia's favorite. I understand how she is feeling. However, it got me thinking. It got to a point with Livia that we couldn't even let her taste things. We tried because we wanted to. We'd give her something like a tiny smear of ice cream in her mouth, or whipped cream, and she hated it. It almost appeared as if it were painful to even taste. She made a horrible face that we would giggle at, but awe at, at the same time because we felt bad. For a moment, I felt happy that she was free from the body that fought so hard against her. That kept her from tasting her beloved foods. That immobilized her. That caused her pain. I hate that my child had to go through what she did. I hate that she is gone, but I can find peace in the freedom that she has now gained. That as each day passes, it's one day closer to seeing her again. That as some days paralyze me in sadness, there will be strong days that are inspired by what she went through. I can feel my heart being fueled today by memories of her blueberry stained face, with chocolate milk stained pajamas.</div>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-89541470484108267492017-10-24T21:01:00.001-05:002017-10-24T21:01:53.238-05:00By Jacob Hubert <div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I would like to begin by
thanking everyone who’s here in attendance today, and the outreach of support
displayed by our family, friends, church, schools, employers, coworkers, and
community through these difficult times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Your generosity has been broadcasted on the news, been printed in the
paper, and more importantly given my family and I the peace of mind that Liv’s
life has had an impact on so many, making her short ten year journey, one of
the most beautiful and meaningful journeys I’ve come to know, so I’d like to
take the next ten minutes to share her journey, what I’ve learned from the
journey, and what myself and hopefully others will do to honor her journey on
this earth as we all begin to heal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">How ‘bout that hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t tell you how many people have told us
how they wish they had hair like Liv.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
had the honor of showering Liv regularly, and every time I washed her hair, I
brushed it with conditioner in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tried
my best to be gentle, but there was always hair coming out with each pass of
the comb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the end there would be a
ball of hair roughly the size of a kitten, yet when she was dressed and her
hair was fanned out to dry, you couldn’t tell there was any missing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was incredible, and what was more incredible
is that no one every walked up to my family and I to say look at the girl in
the wheelchair or gosh she looks different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was always, “Look at that hair.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For that, I am grateful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
journey isn’t just about the influence Liv had on us, but how each of you saw
Liv’s beauty and interacted with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I’d like to go back to the
beginning of it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll never forget
the first time I cried over Liv.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We went
to the doctor’s office to have an ultrasound and hear Liv’s heartbeat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her life wasn’t real to me until I heard that
heartbeat, and I can never forget the joy it gave me to be a father.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You see, as a child, I always wanted to be a
professional football player or Jacque Cousteau, underwater explorer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted grandeur and adventure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was fortunate to meet Kelly, who
domesticated me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kelly taught me to be a
husband, and Liv, Liv taught me to be a father, and it was while I listened to
Liv’s heartbeat I realized my true dream was to be a complete family man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After that, I simply wanted a big
family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to provide and support
them through good times and bad, to lift them up in their triumphs and protect
them from danger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was during the very
sound of Liv’s heartbeat the course of my life changed, and my dreams changed
to a main focus of being a father.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The next several months were
spent planning a space for Liv and discussions of things to come, including
what Liv’s name would be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With three
months left in the pregnancy, I thought we had agreed on the name Finley.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>About two weeks before Liv was born, Kelly
and I were having a conversation, I stated that we at least agree on one
name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kelly look surprisingly at me and
said “which one is that?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said Finley.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kelly said I don’t know if that is the one
anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was shocked and it was back
to the drawing board.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kelly really
wanted Livia and I really wanted Grace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I believe you can all see how it ended up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The funny thing is I never brought up the
name Finley for our second born because I didn’t want to go through the same process
of hoping for it, but two weeks prior to our second daughter’s birth, Kelly
said, “do you know what name is really coming on strong?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said, “no.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She said, “Finley.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to
rush to the hospital that very moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We have two daughters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Livia
Grace and Finley Faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Faith and
Grace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I was reading through
scripture one day, it was no mistake I came across Ephesians 2:8, which says “For
it is by grace you have been saved, through Faith – and this is not from
yourselves, it is the gift of God.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kelly and I were graced with two beautiful daughters and our faith grew
through raising and caring for them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Both our girls and our lives are gifts of God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Livia’s name was no mistake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Livia, whose name we shorten to Liv has
taught myself and others to Liv by Grace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At that point in our lives, with two daughters and a plan of more
children to come, life was right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
were some indicators of Liv not developing as fast as she should, but to the
best of our knowledge, we had two healthy, beautiful girls.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">A couple of months and a
surgery to remove Liv’s adenoids and place tubes in her ears led us to a
geneticist, who looked at Liv and stated she shows mild signs of a storage
disorder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were finally getting some
answers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought we were on the road
to a diagnosis, we’d get some medicine or a treatment, and Liv’s life would be
back on track, and so would my dreams of being a father and having a big family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess I didn’t really understand what the
doctor was saying, because on July 8, 2009, we received a phone call that we
needed to come in to see the doctor right away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We were in central Illinois with plans to be there for another week, so
we weren’t quite certain if we wanted to come back to Rockford that
minute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then the nurse explained to
Kelly over the phone why we needed to come up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I vaguely remember hearing Kelly say San-what?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How do you spell it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We then did the worst thing anyone could do
at that time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We googled it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>T-E-R-M-I-N-A-L, and in the time it took me
to spell it, we were in the van.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t
remember the ride up, but I remember thinking not us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ll overcome this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We know people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shortly after the doctor’s visit, we had to
have a blood draw to test Finley too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While Kelly was dealing with that, I made three phone calls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first was to my parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve not heard my father cry before, but I
can never forget hearing the tears that day on the other end of the phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It solidified the fact that this journey was
not going to be easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next phone
call went out to my Uncle Dave, who has a chemical engineering degree and
helped to develop some medical advancements.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Surely he knows someone who is doing the research.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While he was willing to look into it, he had
never heard of the disorder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then came
by buddy John, who has a degree in biochemistry and has worked at various
medical clinics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Certainly he would know
of something, but that too was a dead end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Unfortunately I was looking for solid ground in mankind, when I should
have been praying to God, but I wouldn’t grasp that lesson until much later in
life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For six months I only thought of
all of the things I would not have or get to do with my Livia Grace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would not see her walk across the
graduation stage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would not walk her
down the aisle of her wedding, and I would not get to spoil her children, my
grandchildren.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My dreams of having a big
family quickly vanished as we found out it was a 1 in 4 chance with each child
we have that they will have Sanfilippo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was crushed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I was expressing to my dad, my
feelings about what I would not be able to experience with Liv, six months
after her diagnosis, and it was on that day he told me I could continue to
focus on everything I wouldn’t have, but in doing so, I would miss out on
making some pretty good memories along the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was that day I decided I must begin to LIV my life to the
fullest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wouldn’t let time rob me of
the memories that could be made, and I must look to the positives if I was
going to give my family the best life God would allow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kelly and I spoke about it and decided we
should start a foundation to bring about awareness and raise money for
research.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the help of Kelly’s Uncle
and a couple of close friends, we established the LivLife Foundation, where we
would do more to raise awareness and funds for research.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We would use our story to help others realize
how precious life is, to be grateful for their blessings, and for them to LIV
life to the fullest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something had
changed inside of me, and I began to be able to create beautiful and wonderful
moments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I began to notice more laughter
that lead to a greater number of memorable moments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Liv’s favorite activity just so happened to be
dancing, so we danced like fools.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
danced like fools to the Wiggles, to Elmo, and to Beyonce.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We watched the video “All the Single Ladies”
countless times, mostly ending by falling to the ground in exhaustion and laughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kelly joked that she hoped no one would see
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I secretly hoped others would see
our craziness and long to be a part of the fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Liv’s laughter was infectious, and like morning sun creeping through the
cracks in the blinds, that laughter would light up your life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was inescapable, and I had that laughter
each and every day if I chose to make it happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The laughter and the dancing lasted for a
time, but Sanfilippo slowly robbed Liv of that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As a matter of fact, Sanfilippo robbed Liv of dancing, laughing,
talking, walking, eating, and eventually took her life, but the amazing thing
about it, is that during Liv’s short time here on this earth, we have all
learned from her that happiness comes in so many shapes and forms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While Liv was robbed of so much, it never
took away what she said with her eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They were the biggest, brownest eyes you’d ever set sight on, and she
expressed her love well through those eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: yellow; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Livia showed love and acceptance to each and every person with whom she
came in to contact through those eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She always wanted to hold a hand and offer a smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one was a stranger, and no one could
escape those big brown eyes or her smile that lit up the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would walk through the store with Liv and
kids and their parents would go out of their way to say hi to Livia, and the
joy on their face when they said hello was incredible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were many times I was known as Liv’s dad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is one of the greatest honors that could
ever be given, after all, my dream was and still is to be a family man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Liv’s innocence was catchy and </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">influenced
many to love and accept people for who they are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I think back to the beginning of mankind,
back in the Garden of Eden, I think of the first two humans and how they were
made with complete innocence and love to share with one another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This form of innocence was God’s original
perfect creation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Matthew 10, verses
13-16, it says “People were bringing little children to Jesus to have him touch
them, but the disciples rebuked them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When Jesus saw this, he was indignant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He said to them, Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder
them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tell you the truth, anyone who will not
receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And he took the children in his arms, put his
hands on them and blessed them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
years, I prayed for God to either provide a miracle of modern science to cure
all children with Sanfilippo or to outright heal Livia through a divine
miracle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I wanted this more than
anything, there were times I wondered what would happen if Livia was healed,
but rebuked God for her experiencing the health issues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How would I feel if Livia was cured, to have
a complete life here on this earth and not go to heaven?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would never be able to forgive myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Liv’s imperfections, she was absolutely
perfect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perfect love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perfect acceptance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perfect innocence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In reflection of it all, I was blessed to be
the father of a perfect angel here on this earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took me years to realize my prayers for
healing were being answered by God, but it wasn’t the type of healing in
accordance to my plan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Slowly, God
healed me, so I was able to accept and acknowledge this perfect angel in my
life and learn how to live a better life in accordance with God’s word.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Thinking back to our decade
with Liv, raising this beautiful angel with complete innocence wasn’t always
easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Liv always wanted to be involved
in what we were doing, including the almost daily gourmet meals my lovely wife
likes to cook for our family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cooking
meant the use of hot pans and sharp objects.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I remember coming home one day to Kelly having baby Finley strapped to
her chest in a baby carrier, there were green beans being sautéed on the stove
and a cutting board and knife on the counter near her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Liv was laughing as she persistently grabbed
at the pan and then at the cutting board, and of course it was a fun game to
Liv.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Poor Kelly was trying to cook and
defend while keeping Livia safe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
remember thinking I wish Liv would stop grabbing at everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have reflected on that very thought
numerous times since. Before I knew it, Liv stopped walking, and I would have
given anything to have those moments back of having to defend whatever was
going on in the kitchen or even in the garage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I would give anything to have Livia trying to be involved and laughing
about what she thought was a game as we tried to stop and protect her from
various dangers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My frustrations eventually
turned into longings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You never realize
what you wish away until it’s too late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The simple interactions of trying to protect Liv from her persistent
desires to get involved in what Kelly and I were doing is something I will miss
for the rest of my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This past
summer Kelly cooked a meal for a family who lost their mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kelly and Finley had an obligation that
afternoon, so it was my job to take Liv with me and food to the grieving family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I then had to make it back to the house in
time to meet with another person over a scheduled obligation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had the food loaded up, and I was ready to
load Livia up when I realized she had pooped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I laid Livia down on a pad to change her, and as I opened up her diaper,
it went everywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pad wasn’t wide
enough to handle the volume, and things got onto the carpet. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was frustrated at first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had limited, fleeting time, and too much
was being consumed by my endeavor to simply change a diaper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I then paused, took a deep breath, and told
myself an alternative is that Livia is not here for me to change her
diaper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suddenly became grateful for
Livia being there and the opportunity to simply have time with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rest of the world could wait, but it was
time for me to be a father and care for my daughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am grateful for taking a minute to realize
how precious my time was with Livia, because I would again give anything to
have to change another diaper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Over a year ago, Kelly asked me if I had thought about Livia’s
death. Of course, I had, but I didn’t originally realize the depth of her
question. You see, Kelly had thought about many intimate and personal
details. Things that no mother should ever have to think of, but only a
mother could think of. Together, we decided to let a few others in on
these details. You see, it takes, and has taken a village to care for a
child. Livia loved her Barbies. When she was younger, you would
never see her without one in her hands. She would twirl and chew on her
Barbie’s until they needed replaced. We asked Finley to pick out a brand
new Barbie for her sister. Finley picked one out for Livia, and one for
herself. She chose sister Barbies identical in every way except the color
of their hair. Finley kept hers, and Liv has her favorite toy with her
now. Livia is wearing a bracelet that matches one that Finley now
has. Kelly and Livia have matching cross necklaces. The vision of
Livia being restored in Heaven is a source of comfort and peace for us.
Knowing that she is running, dancing, and playing like all children should be,
is a beautiful image. Because of this, we wanted her to have a brand new
pair of running shoes. Her shoes are now supporting her adventures and play
with all of her new friends. Kelly was able to take the time to paint her fingernails
a soft color of pink reflecting Livia’s sweet and soft personality. Her
toenails were painted yellow like the color of the sun. After all, Liv is
our sunshine. Finley was able to send her sister off with a signature
piece of her artwork and a handwritten note. This note was a request of
Finley to never forget us. Another personal and intimate detail is that Liv is
wearing her first pair of underwear. Something she’s never been able to
have until now. The last detail that Kelly wanted was to have a dress
made for Livia out of her wedding dress. Kelly had received a “nudge”
this summer that it was time to accomplish this. We asked a friend to
help us find a seamstress willing to take on the significant task. Kelly
received the news a little over a month ago that the dress was finished.
A good lesson for all of us to listen for and follow through with those
“nudges.” This past Monday we were able to see Livia in her dress. She
looked absolutely beautiful and peaceful in the dress. It’s a comfort
knowing that we were able to provide these gifts to Livia. These details
are a source of comfort for us that will remain in our hearts forever.
Kelly even wrote a beautiful poem reflecting the symbolism of our marriage in
the newly created dress we gave our little sunshine. The poem is titled
“Silken Threads”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">SILKEN THREADS<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Now I lay you down to rest, in these silken threads that once
were blessed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Because of our union, out of love, in the eyes of God and the
family we love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I dreamt you would wear them for your own special day, but the
plans for that were long put away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I knew these threads could still be used, a gift to give, an
honor for you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">For you of me, and I of you; one heart, strong bond that all
could see.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The gown I wore for unity resulted in the creation of your
beauty. It now surrounds the gift that was ours to borrow; for all
eternity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="footer"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="table of figures"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="envelope address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="envelope return"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="footnote reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="line number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="page number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="endnote reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="endnote text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="table of authorities"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="macro"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="toa heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Message Header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="FollowedHyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Plain Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="E-mail Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Top of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal (Web)"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Acronym"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Code"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Keyboard"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Typewriter"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Table"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="No List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Elegant"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 3"/>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 200%;">So now there’s a little more
laughter in heaven, but where do we go from here?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dust will settle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our lives will once again slow down, as will
our tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What is it that I hope you
choose to do honor these beautiful lessons we’ve learned from Livia’s short
journey?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d like to start with the fact
that you should dance like a fool, no matter who is watching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just open up and have a little fun, so you
can create those fond memories with loved ones that will last a lifetime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next, be certain to never wish anything
away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As frustrating as some things may
be, I want you to think about the alternatives, because that person may not be
there one day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You never know when one
of those moments may be your last.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Life
can be a beautiful journey if you allow it to be, so take the initiative to
make it so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last, love and accept with
the innocence of a child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is how
God originally made mankind, and I think you’ll realize that innocence will
establish lasting and loving relationships in your life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you all, and God Bless.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-40802269370676668192017-10-24T20:57:00.000-05:002017-10-24T20:57:52.376-05:00By Marshall Hauge<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><br /></i></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3gYkZFNvepIpjuWb8K5pJ2q3YanamDvM59V98eVrFiuK0ZI8nqbZpfhm-ZG3qF1ohfQrBbm7pWncfHw34Z9tGY-GcyTd8Bzn-5dymU9RKB-cyMrsAfxL3I1jcUASYLWlra_TAksM8Xjc/s1600/DSC_4406-%2528ZF-1594-23121-1-040%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1143" data-original-width="1600" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3gYkZFNvepIpjuWb8K5pJ2q3YanamDvM59V98eVrFiuK0ZI8nqbZpfhm-ZG3qF1ohfQrBbm7pWncfHw34Z9tGY-GcyTd8Bzn-5dymU9RKB-cyMrsAfxL3I1jcUASYLWlra_TAksM8Xjc/s640/DSC_4406-%2528ZF-1594-23121-1-040%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Jesus said to the apostles: I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another. John 13:34</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i></i></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">There is a belief, that to truly have a successful life, you have to experience this world to its fullest. You need to take on exciting adventures, learn new ideas, build great things. This also includes building ourselves, becoming more aware of our existence, trying hard to understand the human condition and where we fit into this extraordinary world that God has created.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">We build our lives, we build our families. We build our friendships and relationships. We try to build lives of significance, lives that matter. What we do each day creates a tale of what our lives on this earth are about. It will be our story forever. We turn to God and ask Him how we should create this tale. We ask Him for His guidance in finding the meaning in each part of the tale.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">In short, we are trying to write the best story possible.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">This concept of life as creating stories was introduced to me through Don Miller’s book “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years”. I took this book to heart and started to look at people as story tellers of their own truth.Each of you in this sanctuary today has a story that you have written and it is told through the life you choose to live. Each story is unique with no two stories being exactly alike, each with its own special meaning.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">These stories are Epics of love and triumph, tragedy and loss, stories of tenderness and mercy. But in the end, all these stories are written by those that are living them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I came to realize the essence of a good life was to actively write, to create a good story, one worth telling; maybe not in this world, but definitely in the next. I believe these will be the stories that we will share with God when we see Him. Did we live lives of compassion and love in this world?</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I am not the sharpest pencil in the box and anyone that knows me can tell you that the eraser on my pencil is worn to a nub. But in spite of the edits I’ve had to make along the way, I keep trying to write a good story.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">When I met Livia Grace, my new found theory that life was an epic story each of us was writing, started to unravel. This beautiful little girl who could not talk, was unable to walk without someone by her side, how could she write her own story? How could she create her saga of how she engaged with this world? How could she create her own personal odyssey? And if she couldn’t write her story in this world, how could creating stories be the reason for being?</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">This is when I started to learned something about Livia. Livia was an amazing author of her own story. And also, she was an amazing editor of mine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">When I would sit with Livia and hold her hand, touch her cheek, the world would close in to just the two of us. And I would find myself in the pure joy of just being. In that moment was when Livia would take out her pen and would turn open the cracked and worn cover of my heart and start to write on the pages within.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">And what she wrote on my heart would change me forever. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">She taught me that it was alright to be weak. That in my weakness others could be my strength. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">She taught me to be humble. Being humble allows God to work through me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">She taught me to love as a child with great joy for today. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">All of this, and more, she taught me without saying a word.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">But it was not just my heart that Livia would write her story on. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">You too have had this wonderful girl write on your own heart’s page. And what she wrote there is so special and so meaningful to you. Each time you touched her, each time you cared for her, she changed you. Each time she made you stronger, each time she made you more open to love, each time you became more tender.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">She touched you and you grew. And you were changed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">Each of you that have touched Livia, cared for her, have loved her with no expectation of her being able to return your affection, have written on Livia’s heart pages as well. You have ministered to her through care and touch. Even the simplest of things that you did for her wrote deep loving verses. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And by loving Livia unconditionally, you have allowed Livia to write her story. You helped to create her story to fill her heart of heart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Her story is how she changed your life. How she helped you write a better story. How she took your simple tale and turned it into a deep and pure love story. Her being in this world had to be. She had to write her story that affected so many lives. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Her story is the simplest but at the same time is probably the most profound story that anyone could write. She has shown us how God loves unconditionally…and she did that by letting us love her unconditionally.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">George and Cindy, Jim and Karin, you were Livia’s first coloring books. Not the kind with outlines of pictures, but books with great, big open pages. Livia would open these huge books that are a grandparent’s heart. And then Livia would stand back and hurl huge buckets of amazing color, one after another, and the colors would splash and run. And you would find yourself caught up in the moment and you would pick up your pails of color and find yourself adding to the glorious rainbow that was forming.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And then, you would sit back with Livia and marvel at the creation you had made with her in such a short time. No words were needed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">You and Livia wrote on each other’s heart in a language that only a grand-daughter and a grandparent could understand and share. You loved her unconditionally as a grandchild from the day she was brought into this world. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Jake and Kelly, it is because of you that Livia was able to have such an impact on this world. You created the space in this world for her to live and be loved in. You were able to create the family Livia needed to carry on her journey and write her story.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">You understood how sacred Livia’s life was. And you re-affirmed how sacred Livia’s life was each day. You understood how right it was for her to be in this world. You would welcome all to come be part of this grand story. You constantly invited strangers to embrace who your daughter was.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">But Livia saved her greatest story writing for her mom and dad and her little sister, Finley. She had to write the story that would transform her family forever. She wrote a story of how important a family is and how love grows through acts of tenderness and kindness. Her story was written about how special her family was and how you loved and cared for each other.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">From the day that you met your daughter, you would never be the same. You had been changed forever. You had to let go of who you thought you were and place your trust in God and let Him carry you through each day. God was with you. You were not alone on this journey.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Each day you took care of her and you touched her. You held her tight and surrounded her with love. Each day you nurtured Livia’s soul and heart. Each day, love grew in your family. This love would spill out a thousand fold far beyond your family.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">One of my greatest joys in this life was to be invited to join in bed time prayers with the Hubert family. It was the time when I knew there truly was a God and that He was truly with us. Each time you prayed as a family, you opened your hearts and lives to God’s love. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">You trusted in Him and you continue to trust in Him now. This is the miracle that God revealed to your family through Livia. Your family is the miracle that glorifies God. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Because of Livia, your family has grown far beyond the walls of your home. Because of Livia, your family is here, all around you. Their love surrounds you and holds you close. You are not alone in this moment. All you need to do is hold Livia your mind’s eye, and the love of this family will swirl around you and embrace you and will hold you always.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Jake and Kelly, your amazing, lovely daughter Livia has created a story so powerful, so beautiful, and so deep, it must be retold again and again. This story must continue to be lived by all of us she touched as she wrote here story so sweetly, so lovingly. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And finally, Kelly and Jake, I know where Livia is right this moment. And in that knowledge, I am today, joyful.</span></div>
Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-8077867381358055922017-10-24T11:53:00.001-05:002017-10-24T11:53:44.800-05:00One month<div style="text-align: center;">
Yesterday marked one month. So much of this doesn't feel real. I thought about figuring out the exact number of days, hours, and minutes, but it felt so wrong. It felt hard. I don't really want to acknowledge it. </div>
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This blog has always been my voice. My voice feels so fragile right now. It feels like I have a permanent lump in my throat. I think it's because my heart has been in a boxing ring, and it is battered. It's bruised & swollen, and the injury is radiating into my throat. It's affecting my voice, and my focus.</div>
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Time has been crazy and confusing. The finality of everything has me feeling lost. The emptiness is haunting. It hurts. Absolutely nothing has prepared me for this.</div>
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I'm scared.</div>
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I'm hopeful.</div>
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I'm lonely.</div>
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I'm in love.</div>
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I'm relearning.</div>
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I'm lost.</div>
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I'm unsettled.</div>
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I'm inspired.</div>
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Everyday is different. Every emotion is radiated. I feel like being busy is better, but I'm not sure. Sometimes it feels like I'm avoiding.</div>
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My sweet Finley. She is inspiring me, and I'm deeply in love with her. Her heart is hurting. Her mind is working in overload. She's so resilient. She has very deep and heavy thoughts. Her questions are impressive. She's good for the most part. She responds well to honesty and straight talk. Please continue praying for her. Her latest desire is to know another kid who has gone through what she has. She feels as if none of her friends truly understand. She wants to know she's not the only one. We've found someone willing to connect, but not in close proximity. It's a start, and it will be good.</div>
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There has been so much love and support. It's been very eye opening to me to see people's hearts. The <i style="font-weight: bold;">different </i>ways in which people know how to "take care," or offer support is very inspiring to me. So much mail, and we are so grateful for that. The texts come through, but aren't as frequent. It's ok. I need to try and focus on more than a screen. The greatest gift has come in the form of hand written letters from a friend that happens to be a social worker. She has no expectation from me for a response. She offers words and guidance that come at least once a week. Sometimes more. Thank you MN-N. You are a beautiful person. The ink and stamps mean more than I can ever begin to explain. Thank you.</div>
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Thank you to those that show me the most patience. For understanding when I need to cancel, or don't answer phone calls. Please don't give up on me. I don't know how long this healing process may take. My heart in that boxing ring-it took quite the blow. </div>
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The next two blogs that I post will be the words that were spoken by Jake and our friend Marshall at Livia's service. Her beautiful service. Thank you to all those that attended. Thank you to all those that helped accomplish all the intimate details that were so important to us.</div>
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Livia Grace....I love you so much. I miss you, but you know that. I feel your presence in and around me. You will always be the drive and purpose behind what I do, and what I say. The time I had with you; those were the years that I learned the most. I learned what love looked like, and felt like. Now it's time for me to take those lessons and rediscover myself. I poured myself into you, and now I feel you pouring into me. What I accomplished with you reshaped me. A new heart and a new mind. Keep showing me, babe. </div>
Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-44878484041482272152017-09-21T15:10:00.002-05:002017-09-21T15:14:40.054-05:00Our Sunshine<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
It’s been since January since Liv has been showing us that
things were changing with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was at
that point that life, and she, felt different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I now know that we were being prepared for the time that we are walking
her through at this very moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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We were so very fortunate that we had many years of words,
songs, and mostly laughter from our yellow haired girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sadly, those things were eventually lost; but
her eyes always showed us that somewhere within, that smile still existed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She taught us how to listen to her in ways
unlike the norm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even now, she is
telling us exactly what she needs, and we are listening……and listening well.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We are nearing the end of our physical time with Livia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are embracing the wait….the hard hard
wait.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a lot of beauty that we
are seeing and creating during this sacred time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The love that Livia Grace has created in her
10 years of life is shining exuberantly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My yellow haired girl has always shined like the sun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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You are my sunshine…..<o:p></o:p></div>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="footnote text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="footer"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="table of figures"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="envelope address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="envelope return"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="footnote reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="line number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="page number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="endnote reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="endnote text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="table of authorities"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="macro"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="toa heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Closing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Message Header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Salutation"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Date"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Block Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Hyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="FollowedHyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Document Map"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Plain Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="E-mail Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Top of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Bottom of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal (Web)"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Acronym"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Code"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Definition"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Keyboard"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Sample"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Typewriter"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Variable"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Table"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation subject"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="No List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Contemporary"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Elegant"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Professional"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Balloon Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Theme"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Level 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Level 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Level 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Level 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Level 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Level 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Level 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Level 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Level 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 3"/>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Please
pray for all of us during this time. We
feel your love. We see your texts, your messages,
the photos you share. We see you, and we
love you for all the support you have always given us. We are praying for your hearts, too. I hope that when you feel sad or your heart
beats a little faster because of what Livia is going through, that you may take
that feeling, close your eyes, and think that it’s because of so much love that
you are feeling that way. It’s a gift
and a fuel for all of us to love and LIV a little harder today, and the days to
come. </span><!--EndFragment--></div>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-83919661714221168222017-04-05T12:05:00.000-05:002017-04-05T12:05:20.930-05:00Waiting my turn<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's hard to wait. We live in a society where most anything can happen instantly. Information is at our fingertips. Packages can be ordered and delivered in the same day. When we want something, and have to wait, it may cause frustration or impatience.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I feel like I'm living in a season of "waiting." </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY0-KDiP6yOJRNZuayoSV0XnIUxqIfDbNuZpfC6HgCbsphCkkRQvSpsBWnUJw2kUQUcjuwU8hQfIpb-3Q-uhIMAuqT3BLkgRjX4UT-yX71UqotPyJtzmAZQ0r775IE-HYUHZT4JSNPmeg/s1600/6J3A3519.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY0-KDiP6yOJRNZuayoSV0XnIUxqIfDbNuZpfC6HgCbsphCkkRQvSpsBWnUJw2kUQUcjuwU8hQfIpb-3Q-uhIMAuqT3BLkgRjX4UT-yX71UqotPyJtzmAZQ0r775IE-HYUHZT4JSNPmeg/s400/6J3A3519.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My "wait" feels closer than it ever has. My "wait" is scary and heavy. It's hard to "wait," but I'm not frustrated or impatient. I'd like to "wait" for as long as God allows, and even then, it won't be enough. When my "wait" is over, my arms will be empty. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I love what my friend said about 2 girls passing away from Sanfilippo Syndrome yesterday. She said "<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px;">Two beautiful souls left this earth yesterday, and heaven sure got two shades brighter, but here? It got dark. And when it gets dark, we must search for the light." (She blogs too. You can read her beautiful words <b><i><a href="https://stefanieboyce.com/blog/" target="_blank">here</a></i></b>.)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px;">The darkness that is my life is surrounded by so much light because of our children. The darkness that makes my heart feel the ache and burn is soothed by the salve of love that has been brought to life because of their precious and fragile lives. The wait, the worry, the after; it will be dark. However, the life left to liv will be worth it, because she will be the light in my heart. It's the only way. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px;">I will be content in the "wait." It will be cherished and honored; daily.</span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">4 children lost their lives yesterday as a result of Sanfilippo Syndrome. Our community has been hit hard and many hearts have been affected. Please keep our friends in your thoughts and prayers. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYN2syEEDlft7_05UJyLSvCxZMDFqi79p7K0V4htf61_msXTSpo5tiGlVTwLWuU-077tLY8GWdBquCHZL62fB88YSQnFhNfPOO-WKOfPpVhYNEumyORYcue8DLEwB_y5MeQj5670nrlJs/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYN2syEEDlft7_05UJyLSvCxZMDFqi79p7K0V4htf61_msXTSpo5tiGlVTwLWuU-077tLY8GWdBquCHZL62fB88YSQnFhNfPOO-WKOfPpVhYNEumyORYcue8DLEwB_y5MeQj5670nrlJs/s400/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-84397991643194952082017-01-18T17:41:00.001-06:002017-01-18T21:41:14.907-06:00Not Cute<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
"Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter."</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
"The time is always right to do what is right."</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
-Martin Luther King Jr</div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
When I was pregnant
with Livia, a dear dear friend of mine was 2 months ahead of me in her
pregnancy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I loved that I had a close
friend that was just a couple steps ahead of me in pregnancy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also loved that when our kids were little,
we could share tips, time, and life together with new babies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My friend had a son, Luke, the December
before Livia was born.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We lived just
towns away from one another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
common for us to get together, have dinner, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One particular night, I had gone over to
their house before Jake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He met me there
later in the evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he arrived,
my friend Jen and I had Luke and Livia in the bath tub together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were big enough to sit on their own,
laugh, and interact.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jen and I were
ohhing and awing at how cute it was that they were in the bath together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm sure we even snapped a couple
pictures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We joked that we were going to
"arrange" their marriage and how we couldn't wait to tease them that
they took bathes together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jake did not
find it funny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He made the comment to me
that "when will it not be cute anymore?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn't believe he couldn't see how cute
and innocent it was that our kids were in the bath together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought "what a scrooge!"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn't about to listen to his reasoning at
the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was ruining my moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I brushed him off and we finished the bath.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
We have another
friend that has kids around Finley's age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Finley is right in between their daughter and son's age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finley spends a lot of time with their
daughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During their time together,
their son likes to interrupt the girls playing together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just being a boy, and a brother at that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During a playdate, Finley and the boy
kiss!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm not exactly sure why it
happened, but part of me thought.....awe, how innocent and cute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jake's comment "when will it not be cute
anymore?" <o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Jake is a principal
at a local high school. He cares very much for all of his kids and their families. The students are good kids, but in the past<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> h</span>e has had to deal
with issues like kids stealing, fighting, drugs, dress code, sex, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You name it, he's probably dealt with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's very unfortunate to hear a lot of
stories that he has to tell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So many of
the issues he tells me about reflects back on to home life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not always, but the majority do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kids learn and live what they know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bullies are bullied at home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thieving happens in times of
desperation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kids can be used as decoys
when parents need to steal to survive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Teens will cling on to relationships, many physical, when they don't get
the attention they so crave from the people that should care the most.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
"When will it
not be cute anymore?"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
This morning, I opened up Facebook to see two people post this newspaper article. </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<o:p><br /></o:p>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzSAW5WhcnNwuHLk4cGezctx8ZFx8f3ZgwZB8xCDy_uZw1-ZNoXX9o8h4pV46xFr2q_PQdvadNbHZZQPmIVvt53PzKJfx6cA1249xKDSHs9MWvq-ur7MS6pW11-9myv2GJfIoWpKr3C6Y/s1600/image1-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzSAW5WhcnNwuHLk4cGezctx8ZFx8f3ZgwZB8xCDy_uZw1-ZNoXX9o8h4pV46xFr2q_PQdvadNbHZZQPmIVvt53PzKJfx6cA1249xKDSHs9MWvq-ur7MS6pW11-9myv2GJfIoWpKr3C6Y/s400/image1-2.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
I can picture this
child's parents thinking "how cute and innocent!"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can hear them out in their yard with their
neighbors saying "hey little Johnny, come here and tell Mr. Rodgers what
you just said about Grandma and Grandpa."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Or maybe in the grocery store when the parents run into their BFF's, the story is
told again from the child's innocent mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Each time the laughs get louder and louder, and the child loves the attention
he is getting from the story he is telling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I get it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I totally get it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="webkit-fake-url://cb460e09-e6ba-4ccc-b65d-803341e0ffd1/image.tiff" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>My sweet friend
replied to this post of the"retired" grandparents that this may be offensive to some people (she was totally
talking about me!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Comments followed
like "sooooo cute," "best jokes are those that are most
shocking," "sounds like my grandchild," and my favorite "totally
innocent, came from a child's perspective and is innocent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Keep things in perspective."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, here's some perspective for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm facing my daughter's impending death,
every single day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She has a mental
retardation, and I don't find anything about this funny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe I've lost some of my sense of humor,
but I'm losing my daughter with each passing second.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My heart hurts, and to see something like
this made light of......in a publication, is not humorous to me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I will not apologize
for what I believe in, and I will continue to defend my daughter and those who
are affected by a disability. I am her voice, and I will stand up for what is right because of her, and for her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My husband
was right when he brought to my attention "when will it not be cute
anymore?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leading by example to the
generations behind us (and sometimes ahead of us), is everyone's responsibility.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Standing up for what is
right is the solution to so much of what is NOT cute in this world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-60467874925996567702016-10-01T10:21:00.000-05:002016-10-01T10:22:42.907-05:00An honest walkHis eyes welled with tears as he said last night, "babe, you haven't written a blog in a long time. I think I need your words. I think other people need your words. Please write."<br />
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It's been almost 6 months. I currently have 4 unpublished blogs that I've cowered to publish.</div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;">"Truth is harder than a lie</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;">The dark seems safer than the light</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;">And everyone has a heart that loves to hide</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;">I'm a mess and so are you</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;">We've built walls nobody can get through</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;">Yeah, it may be hard, but the best thing we could ever do, ever do</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;">Bring your brokenness, and I'll bring mine</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;">'Cause love can heal what hurt divides</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;">And mercy's waiting on the other side</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; text-align: center;">If we're honest" -<i><b> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ySa3Vu4FUW8" target="_blank">Francesca Battistelli "If we're honest"</a></b></i></span></span></div>
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Man, have I been good at building walls. It's easier, it's safe, and I'm not disappointed when I guard my own heart. Truth is harder than a lie. And my truth......I'm scared. But, hiding has isolated me to what I need most. Truth. Love. Acceptance. Grace. Oh, Grace. How I need to allow myself some Grace. Grace to be true to myself. Grace to love what I love. Grace to be who I truly am. Because who I truly am is a child of God. A human that is flawed, and has feelings.<br />
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Time is slipping away. There are no more smiles. No more laughs. We're starting to see that simply eating oatmeal is becoming to much for her to handle. This summer, we moved her bed downstairs into the Make a Wish room that was once a safe play room for her. There's now a walk in shower in the remodeled once half bath just down the hall from her now bed room. All things that we knew would happen, have happened. I'm struggling to carry her. Jake at times, too. Simply sitting up on her own is an indication of a good day. Her eyes won't always track my finger. I've uttered the word "neurological decline" more than ever in the last couple weeks. Friends' children are dying. My facebook is flooded with declining childen and hurting hearts of parents who have had to say good-bye to their kid(s). It's hard not to wonder every night, as we say goodnight, if this will be the last. Every. Single. Night.<br />
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This is hard honesty.<br />
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I'm asked a lot how things are going. Maybe specifically about Livia, maybe more about me. I have a stock answer of "today is a good day." Even if it's not. Situations may not be appropriate to pour my heart out, or maybe I can gauge how I need to answer the question by who's asking it. But, THANK YOU, to those that continue to ask over and over. I have a few people that really dig deep with their questions. They ask hard things. I've never loved that, but man do I now. Surface conversations about the weather aren't bad, but I don't want to live on the surface any more. Every single moment matters. Don't put off for tomorrow what could be done today. It's not cliche'. It's true.<br />
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I've been thinking a lot lately about Jesus and his walk to the cross. He was walking with a slab of wood on his back, being beaten along the way. Crowds of people cheering, throwing stones, maybe even spitting at Him. There were a few walking along side him; crying, praying, pleading for Him to be saved. Some people that loved him watched at a distance. They loved Him, but they were afraid and just kept their distance. Can you imagine this moment? Can you imagine enduring that torture, ridicule, and pain? I can only imagine kicking, screaming, and pleading for my life if it were me. Jesus, though, He walked....just walked to the cross. He didn't throw a tantrum or scream back at those screaming at Him. He knew what had to be done.<br />
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I want to be like Jesus in my life. Jake, Finley, our family & friends and I are facing a hardship. We are witnessing Livia's decline. I literally feel my heart breaking every day. Honestly, more often than not, when I'm asked how I'm doing, my answer should be....not good. I'm scared, I'm sad, and I'm anxious. There's absolutely nothing wrong with saying that I'm scared. I want to walk through my life like Jesus walked to the cross. I don't want to kick and scream and throw a fit. I want to do what needs to be done. I want to honor Livia, and not be afraid to say that I'm scared. I don't want to hide her. She's beautiful, strong, and it's my duty to share her with anyone that's willing to have her. I need to place Sanfilippo Syndrome at the foot of the cross. Not putting it there, not tearing down these walls I've built around me, they are stealing the good moments.<br />
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I know Livia may die before me. The thought of her not in my arms is unbearable. But, I have her. I've always had her, and man, am I lucky to be her mom. Her name, Livia Grace, has been so fitting for so many reasons. I LIV with intention because she has taught me what's really really important. I want to LIV the rest of my life to honor her's. Grace.....what a beautiful thing Grace is if we allow ourselves to receive it. <br />
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who called you to his eternal glory in Christ,</div>
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after you have suffered a little while,</div>
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will himself restore you and make you strong,</div>
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firm and steadfast.</div>
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But he said to me,</div>
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"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."</div>
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Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses,</div>
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so that Christ's power may rest on me.</div>
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2 Corinthians 12:9</div>
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Grace to......allow my weakness to show when I'm scared.</div>
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Grace to......say out loud that I need help.</div>
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Grace to......fail and keep trying.</div>
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Grace to......say I'm sorry.</div>
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Grace to......fight an addiction</div>
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Grace to......walk away from an abusive relationship.</div>
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Grace to......fight for a marriage.</div>
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Placing whatever your......is at the foot of the cross will open the door to Grace. It will indeed make you strong, firm, and steadfast. I want to encourage you, that if you feel weak, beaten down by life or a circumstance, allow yourself to experience the emotions that go along with your situation. That's grace. However, keep in mind how Jesus walked to the cross. Let that kind of character shine through in how you react, how you speak, and how you treat others.</div>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-47672857019656428992016-04-15T10:13:00.001-05:002016-04-15T10:13:35.232-05:00What's important<div style="text-align: center;">
I've neglected writing for a long time. Not because I haven't wanted too, but it just hasn't felt right. I've been taking a lot of pictures lately. For myself, and for others. It feels like it's mine. I'm comfortable, I'm learning and growing, I'm sharing, and I feel inspired by the art of photography. It's important to me......so important.</div>
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"What's important." I've been hearing this whisper in my mind over and over and over again this winter. Oh, this loooong winter. I opened my Bible today to look up the word "important." My Bible has a dictionary in the back. I love it, and use it all the time. It doesn't have as many words listed as Webster, but it has significant words. It gives a brief definition, but then lists scripture that correlates. "Important" was not listed. I then thought, how about the word "priority." Nope, not there. I then went to responsibility. Not quite, but responsible was listed. Close enough. I was then lead to look up Galatians. I flipped to the front to look up what page GAL starts on. 1980....the year I was born. I think I'm on the right track! GAL 6; <i>We Harvest What We Plant</i>. I highly recommend reading this.</div>
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A good friend once told me that there will never be enough art in this world. There can never be enough good books to read, good music to listen too, stories to be told, or paintings to be hung. She was right. Hearing a good new song can ignite a new passion. Reading a great story can refresh your soul. That doesn't mean that your old favorites have to go by the way side. Art is ever changing, expanding, and we all need it. Just like ourselves. Growing as people requires recognizing what is most important in our own life. But, it's also recognizing others around us. A well balanced "taking care" of what's most important. </div>
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In GAL 6, it talks about not comparing ourselves to others. Also, not boasting about our good works. I've always believed the latter. However, the comparing ourselves to others, that's a work in progress. Stepping out into anything can be scary, create self doubt, and it's hard not to compare to other people's success. It's also listening to those whispers. The callings in your life. I know how important it is to follow your dream. To put purpose behind a passion. We've all thought about our "death bed" moment and how we don't want to look back and regret not doing.....I get that. I know what my heart yearns for. It's also a "I want it now" feeling. However, I know what's most important in my life right now. It's taking care of what's most important. It's being fully invested in her life. It's not giving up when it's hard. Physically and emotionally hard. Even when it's over. It won't be over and it will be a brand new listening for, investing in, taking care of, asking for help, and recognizing what's most important. But right now, I know that resounding "what's important" is right where I'm at. </div>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-30563714936389412452016-01-23T19:05:00.001-06:002016-01-23T19:05:32.220-06:00Time<h2 class=" b_entityTitle" style="text-align: left;">
Anticipation</h2>
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<span id="dscexpitem_1073696073_8"><span>Anticipation, or being enthusiastic, is an emotion involving pleasure, excitement, and sometimes anxiety in considering some expected or longed-for good event. Robin Skynner considered anticipation as one of "the mature ways of dealing with real stress... You reduce the stress of some difficult challenge by anticipating what it will be like and <u>preparing</u> for how you are going to deal with it".</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVnGemHjfGmruR1Uwg_1E-1OcrpJw4-4mZ3AvMFjV8MuMtKW5_1ErrPhVSDIRbLH2SeoSMuOfjI1zxJoCYr1e8wtHnLBF3WpNmO4Sc04e2voeASe1O0gJQMRwGeMDvPlYtqyHJbxZ1Hlw/s1600/MM+%25282+of+1%2529-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>Nothing, not anything, can <u>prepare</u> a human being for loss. I'm learning that I have no idea what lies ahead. Just when I think I have things under control, I'm knocked back into grief. This word "<i>grief,</i>" it's literally all around me. The more I look, the more I see of other's walking through some multifaceted form of grief. I am not exempt from this list. Even though I try so hard to push and deny my way away from grief. The ugly, lonely, hard to breath, debilitating kind. The kind where only isolation makes sense to me. It's diving into mindless smut on television because it's a distraction from the real, anticipatory thoughts that enter my brain daily. The daily thought of death. It never leaves. It surrounds my sweet, innocent, brown-eyed, sunshine haired, quiet, loving gift of a girl.</div>
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Death.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVnGemHjfGmruR1Uwg_1E-1OcrpJw4-4mZ3AvMFjV8MuMtKW5_1ErrPhVSDIRbLH2SeoSMuOfjI1zxJoCYr1e8wtHnLBF3WpNmO4Sc04e2voeASe1O0gJQMRwGeMDvPlYtqyHJbxZ1Hlw/s1600/MM+%25282+of+1%2529-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>This past Tuesday, Livia fell. I placed her on a kitchen chair that sits right next to my refrigerator. She had just gotten home from school and still had her coat, AFO's, hat, and gloves on. I placed her there to go get Finley's piano books and my coat. My plan was to scoop her back up and go directly to our van where we would wait for Finley to be delivered by her bus. Off to piano lessons we'd go. However, as soon as I turned the corner, on a mission for piano books, I heard a crash followed by a screaming cry. Liv had fallen face first onto my kitchen floor. Blood, swollen lip, instant bruise, and a broken heart. It was an accident, and I get that, but it threw me into the trenches of grief. Liv took an entire 24 hours to recover. I knew she was sore, but she was off. Naturally, I felt horrible, but this time it hit me physically. A tiredness and soreness that I've never experienced before. It was grief showing me another "face." I turned friends down for phone calls, denied food to be delivered, ignored calls and even my door bell. Here's the thing. I loathe talking about this because I know I haven't even reached the end of the plank where the plunge will be the deepest, darkest, dirtiest trenches of grief that will surely consume me. It's what my friends are experiencing because their beloved's died at tender tender ages. However, this is all a process, and it all takes time.</div>
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Time.</div>
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Livia's accident, as I was reminded by a wise fellow Sanfilippo mom, was a very visual reminder of how fragile she is. Life is fragile for all of us, but I'm losing little pieces of my girl everyday. Right in front of my eyes, things are changing. Friend's children are dying. Funerals are being attended. Hard conversations are happening. Grief is being felt; mentally and physically. </div>
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Just like in the movie "Inside out," we learn that we can't have Joy without Sorrow. It takes time for Joy to realize how important</div>
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Sorrow is in the balance of life. How true this is in my journey. Specifically with grief. Nothing, not anything was going to bring me out of the physical grip grief had on me besides time. I had to feel it, I had to let it happen. I had no choice. Coming out on the other side has let me reflect on all of this. It has made me see that there will be many times in my life that this will happen, </div>
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and only time will heal whatever multifaceted balancing act the day brings. This reflection and experience is a sort of re-boot. Being crippled from grief makes me appreciate my strength and the blessing in taking care. How consuming her, being in her presence is the wisest and most important life lesson I will ever receive.</div>
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My friends, thank you to those that listen and not try to fix. Thank you to those who don't think twice about an unanswered phone call or text. Thank you to those that offer and offer and offer; and after all the rejections still choose to show up. Thank you for not comparing or rushing me through. Thank you for praying and for loving. Thank you to those who feed us; spiritually and nutritionally. I cherish you and see how much you love us, especially my girls. You are key players in this balance of life. One more big one.....thank you for holding my hand! (wink) </div>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-33237344025419790492015-11-18T14:23:00.000-06:002015-11-18T14:23:11.286-06:00The art of life<div class="ecxp1" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-family: '.SF UI Text'; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; margin-bottom: 1.35em; text-align: center;">
<span class="ecxs1" style="font-family: '.SFUIText-Regular'; font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;">To go with the flow means to survive, at times, in our world.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>Coping with change has become as unnoticed as your child growing by inches.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>It happens right before your eyes.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>It takes putting them in last years pants, or measuring them against the wall, or a long distance friend coming around and bringing that change to your attention.</span></div>
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<span class="ecxs1" style="font-family: '.SFUIText-Regular'; font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;">It's no secret that change happens all around each and every one of us.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>Sometimes, change is welcome.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>A new home, new shoes, a new baby.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>Sometimes, change is just the opposite.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>It can bring sadness, worry, confusion, or even chaos.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>Change can even bring heartache.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>A best friend moving away, a diagnosis, a relationship shift.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="ecxs1" style="font-family: '.SFUIText-Regular'; font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;">I let Livia taste the lasagna I prepared last night.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>Jake had "fed" her via her g tube.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>Most nights she will sit with us at the table while we eat dinner.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>Before she had her tube placed, I thought that it would be cruel to eat in front of her.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>We have found that it really doesn't matter that we are eating in front of her.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>She would rather be near us, able to hold our hands if she wants.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>That is how we eat most nights; one hand holding a fork, the other holding her.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> Last night</span>, I felt like she was reaching for my plate.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>Her eyes seemed to tell me that she just wanted a taste.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>So, I let her taste.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>She willingly opened her mouth as the fork approached.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>Her lips don't surround the utensil like it used to, but she tasted, and my heart felt.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>I couldn't help but be saddened by the fact that she doesn't get to eat like she used to.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>On the flip, I couldn't help but feel overjoyed and nurturing that I was fulfilling a "want" of hers.<span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span>I gave her several little tastes, all the while feeling extreme gratitude over the plate of food in front of me, the family sitting around me, and the awareness of how change is growing me.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: .SFUIText-Regular;"><span style="font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;">When Livia was diagnosed with Sanfilippo Syndrome, we received the side </span><span style="font-size: 22.6667px; line-height: 32.1867px;">effect</span><span style="font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;">.</span></span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: '.SFUIText-Regular'; font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: .SFUIText-Regular;"><span style="font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;">That side </span><span style="font-size: 22.6667px; line-height: 32.1867px;">effect</span><span style="font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;"> came in the form of grief.</span></span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: '.SFUIText-Regular'; font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: '.SFUIText-Regular'; font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;">It's apparently always been around.</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: '.SFUIText-Regular'; font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: '.SFUIText-Regular'; font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;">Early on, I didn't know it's name.</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: '.SFUIText-Regular'; font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: '.SFUIText-Regular'; font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;">I didn't understand it or acknowledge it.</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: '.SFUIText-Regular'; font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: '.SFUIText-Regular'; font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;">Today, that grief, it hangs out with me daily. On the worst days, it feels as if I'm sleepwalking through the day. No concept of time, actually living out my worst nightmare. This sleepwalking feeling, it's like grief has surrounded me like a weighted, tightly stitched quilt from which I can't come out from under. It's a horrible, sinking feeling that I don't wish upon anyone.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: '.SFUIText-Regular'; font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;"> </span><a href="https://www.google.com/?gws_rd=ssl#q=Glennon+doyle+melton" style="font-family: '.SFUIText-Regular'; font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;" target="_blank">Glennon Doyle Melton</a><span style="color: #454545; font-family: '.SFUIText-Regular'; font-size: 17pt; line-height: 32.1867px;"> had the most perfect post on her Instagram a few weeks back. I haven't be able to stop thinking about it because it's so true.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-size: 22.6667px; line-height: 32.1867px;">It is my experience that with extreme grief and change, comes extreme joy and happiness through all of these life experiences. It makes you and me human. Greif has challenged me to rise above, love deeper, engage more often, adventure daringly, and to take care of the most precious. Grief has exposed my vulnerabilities, but brought those who can meet me right in the midst of it without comparing or fixing; but with loving, praying, and listening. That is a great great gift. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-size: 22.6667px; line-height: 32.1867px;">From the deepest hurt of grief, to the most perfect love, and everything in between; pay attention. For me, letting it all happen and LIVing through it makes the art of life and the promise of heaven beautiful and real. </span></div>
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<br />Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-90244231886734438022015-10-22T16:23:00.000-05:002015-10-22T16:23:19.230-05:00Seasons of change<div style="text-align: center;">
There is so much beauty in the changing of the seasons. This season is undoubtedly popular. There is such beauty in walking on crunchy leaves; all while witnessing Mother Nature's rapture through color. On a sunny fall day, the breeze is majestic. To feel the warmth of the sun, yet fill your lungs with crisp air; is energizing. This season is comforting to me. Like being home. It's when I feel like settling in. It's when I feel like slowing down to watch, to experience, smell, taste, and love. It's when I find myself seeking joy; seeking with intention. I savor this season. The brevity of it is like a "to be continued." It's so disappointing, yet you can't help but be so excited because you know what's to come.</div>
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Autumn is defined as "<span class="oneClick-link" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">a</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">time</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">of</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">full</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">maturity,</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">especially</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">the</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">late</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">stages</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">of</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">full</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">maturity</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">or,</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"></span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">sometimes,</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">the</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">early</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">stages</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">of</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">decline"</span></div>
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Livia is my Autumn child.</div>
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For a lot of us, being parents we don't always see the changes in our growing and maturing children. It's common to hear something like, "Wow, Riayn, she sure has gotten taller." or "Matthew, his voice sounds different than the last time I saw him." or "Silas, he doesn't look like a little kid anymore." It's because we are with our kids everyday and those changes literally happen right before our eyes. It's hearing it from someone else that we are then able to recognize that yes, they are changing.</div>
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It's the same with Liv, but it's heartbreaking. We hear "Liv looks so sad." or "It looks like Livia is having a really hard time walking." or "Liv seems very distant."</div>
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We've been in a season of change with her; and it's been the hardest one yet. This season of change started with her silent aspiration of most everything and has overtaken her smiles, her laugh, her mobility, and other neurologic issues that we see on the horizon. </div>
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We've gone from a once verbal, running, and playing child to one that is just going through the motions of survival.</div>
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I can't help but compare her life to Autumn. Just like Mother Nature's rapture in color; is her existence. The beauty that has come from this child is indescribable unless you slow down to experience it. Unless you open your eyes, intentionally seek joy, and breath in what energizes you; the brevity of life will get the best of you. The sadness that accompanies these changes is present daily. I must choose to bridge the gap between grief and joy. It's when I close my eyes and I remember her voice, I remember the way she loved to eat pizza and ask for more, the memory of her running, playing, hugging, and being a kid; that's the crisp cool breeze that fills my lungs. It's what energizes me and conditions my heart. It's knowing that there is a "to be continued."</div>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-37371105529430493112015-08-05T08:09:00.000-05:002015-08-05T08:39:50.786-05:00Living room life<div style="text-align: center;">
My dear friends, I pray you never stop asking............</div>
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Early on in Livia's diagnosis, Jake and I decided that we would try our best not to let (what the textbooks said) Livia's limitations would be, hold us back from what we wanted to do as a family. We were and are determined to keep life as normal as possible; for our girls, as well as us. We decided that we want our kids to experience as much as we can provide. Doesn't every parent? Especially for Livia, who can't decide for herself; we want to show her as much of the world as possible. We want her to experience; just as it is our desire to LIV a purposeful and meaningful life. Just like the song (which is my anthem) "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKt3o7WPYdo" target="_blank">I lived" by OneRepublic</a> says "I owned every second that this world could give. I saw so many places, the things that I did. With every broken bone, I swear I lived."</div>
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This summer has been full of "firsts." At the end of the school year, Livia had a swallow study done. I was sure that we would get some results back that showed some small changes. That day, I was not prepared for a complete change for our girl. Like I said, I was prepared to maybe start thickening her water, but instead, as I watched during the procedure, my girl silently aspirate on everything except pudding like texture. It was a literal punch in the gut after a 30 minute procedure and being sent away with a piece of paper and a kleenex. I can remember wanting to ask the nice ladies in the room with Liv and I so many questions, but I could only get out 2 questions. I was biting my cheek so hard to help keep from letting the tears fall. Thankfully, we saw this change coming a year ago and had her gtube placed. Today, Livia is getting 100% of her hydration as well as 50-60% of her nutrition through that little tube in her tummy. It's been an easy transition, but not a welcome one. We feed her thick pureed food as often as possible to keep her brain firing. We want those neurons to synapse with other muscles in her body to make her swallow. This is real.</div>
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Another first, our home feels and looks like medical supply grand central.</div>
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In a matter of a week, Livia received a wheelchair, feeding/activity chair, and a bath chair. All of which I'm thankful for because it helps her to be more comfortable and safe. She needs it all. However, before having all of this stuff in our home, I think I pushed her disability to the side. I never viewed Livia as disabled. This equipment; the tubes, the wheels, the supports, the food in a bag, the mesh, and the syringes; it's a visual reminder of how medically fragile she is. It's the first time in her life that I've felt weighed down with the sight of "stuff." Everyday, with every corner I turn in my house; I see something and it reminds me.</div>
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This summer has felt like a summer of "no's." It's the first summer that we've been divided a lot. I'll stay back with Liv, and Jake will take Finley somewhere, or vise versa. Or, we'll go somewhere and someone has to come back early with Livia. We have to keep her on a strict medication routine. Especially at night, those meds, they make her sleepy. Now, if only they could help her stay asleep! There have been a lot of opportunities to do fun things. We have taken advantage of some fun, but it's the first time that I've felt some jealousy with the things we can't do. Jealousy is a mean and singular emotion that is just ugly. This jealousy created a pity party........party of one. I have never in my life looked at our situation and wished things were different. Expcept for the obvious, in which my daughter doesn't have a terminal diagnosis. But, I've been jealous of some things my friends got to do, that we just couldn't. This summer has felt like we've been living a living room life. Liv is not walking well. She's most comfortable on the couch. She tires out and lays down, and most often can not lift herself back up. We physically make her stand. She'll hold on to the legs of our TV and stand. Her legs will start to shake, start to turn blue, and when she's had enough, she will cry out. She'll make her way back to the couch. This has been the hardest transition of all to watch.</div>
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Liv will still get a burst of energy, or have a good walking day. She still does walk, but we must be with her. This "living room life," it's felt isolated and sad. It's caused me to feel guilty, jealous, and tired. But, it's also where I know I must be.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0moMCicaBQt3CCHAuMPREj83C04qdLiwizpjTjhQmI6bu-TuB_d7gZ2VAeY7pjpAe7gAqmTnmVHQO2EX5r43wBULytG0iICvLu9d7Uhb3sEAes1rGjwI8MtpbeTYHdHxU60k2yHYLMbs/s1600/R0001639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0moMCicaBQt3CCHAuMPREj83C04qdLiwizpjTjhQmI6bu-TuB_d7gZ2VAeY7pjpAe7gAqmTnmVHQO2EX5r43wBULytG0iICvLu9d7Uhb3sEAes1rGjwI8MtpbeTYHdHxU60k2yHYLMbs/s200/R0001639.JPG" width="150" /></a>I've learned a long time ago to let go of my expectations. My plans, my dreams; it's not about me. It's not about getting or doing what I want. It's about succumbing to a bigger picture and a bigger plan. It's about realizing that this living room life is right where I need to be at this point in my life. And honestly, I'm happiest on that red couch where I can hold and smell her in. This living room life, it's where life happens. It's where good friends gather to laugh, to cry, to pray, to tell really great stories, and to do life with us when we can't always go out to do life with them. It's where my purpose lies. Livia needs us the most. It's a balance that I wish I didn't have to take on, especially for Finley.</div>
But, I know that someday she will understand. This, unfortunately small phase in our life, is what is helping to mold her and the rest of us into compassionate and loving people. One day, when the living room life is a distant memory; and oh how my heart aches for that to be years....many years down the road. This living room life will be the foundation of our future. It will spark us to do, to LIV, to be with those that we love the most. Those jealous feelings, I'm sure they will show up here and there, and my dear friends.......I pray you never stop asking. I hope you understand. This living room life, it's a unique and heartbreaking experience. It's where I've learned that not getting what I want; it's where I see God's greatest blessings.<br />
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-27275087786479834102015-05-17T17:01:00.001-05:002015-05-17T17:01:17.552-05:00Dig Deep<div style="text-align: center;">
I find myself using a phrase quite often during my body pump classes. I will warn my class of a difficult set or encourage them during the end of a particularly hard track. I will say something along the lines of "let's finish this chest track together, <strong>dig deep</strong>, and finish strong!" Or maybe something like "<strong>DIG DEEP</strong>! Last combo!" It's a phrase that I coach with, a lot. I find it's fitting. Sometimes lifting heavy or running farther requires a little digging. That digging deeper is when changes happen, goals can be met, and a sense of accomplishment is gained. It's not easy to "<strong>dig deep</strong>," but actually digging deeper is when the payoff occurs. It's taking a step outside your comfort zone and doing something uncomfortable or something you thought unreachable when the impossible becomes possible.</div>
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I must <strong>dig deep</strong>, everyday.</div>
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Last week, I started to prepare for a weekend of company. Like any good hostess would, I thought I should actually strip all the beds and put fresh clean sheets on for my guests. I'm going to get a little real here and tell you that I don't wash sheets every week. I do it on purpose. Especially Livia's. You probably notice that when you walk into someone else's bedroom you can smell them. Both of my girls have a bedroom smell. They are different, and I love them both. After I sent both the girls off to school, I started the task of stripping all the beds. I started in Liv's room and it hit me. Her empty bed, a quiet house, her smell, and the thought of her not being here came over me out of no where. I draped myself over her bed with tears flowing from my face. I pulled her sheets off her bed, fell to the floor, and buried my face deep. I tried to INHALE as hard as I could. I moved her sheets through my hands trying to find places that she must have settled into. I panicked. I felt anxious. It was an absolutely devastating moment to realize that there will be a last time that I will have to remove her sheets and her smell........how can I let go of her smell. How can I let go of her?</div>
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I will have to <strong>dig deep</strong>.</div>
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It doesn't happen as often as it once did, or maybe I'm just very used to hearing "I don't know how you do it." When I sit back and really, REALLY, think about what we are facing, I understand why people ask me this. When I see another child struggle, or hear of another family burying their child, or watching families that have lost a child(ren) and navigate life without them; there are times when I wonder how they do it. How do they <strong>dig deep</strong> and keep going? I've learned that I can't really ask how other's do it. I have to rely on what has worked for me and given me a lot of peace in the process. I've had to <strong>dig deep</strong> in my faith. Everyday.....I must dig deep.</div>
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I am not proclaiming that I have all of this figured out. I literally LIV day to day. Each day presents different emotions which can cause easier or harder days. Days in which I have to<strong> dig deep</strong> to come out on top. What I will proclaim is that because of the work I've put into my faith, and my relationship with God, I've gained peace that really does surpass all understanding. I love a lot, I'm very patient, and relationships mean a lot to me. I can't understand or explain it all myself. What I do know is that this digging deeper during the hard, scary, and almost impossible moments is what is allowing our life to be LIVed in an extremely full and beautiful way.</div>
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I'm extremely thankful that my "dig deep" moments are due to my emotions, my navigation through the hard. What is not hard is actually taking care of my girl. Liv's needs are 100% dependent on Jake and I. Everything. Walking is now a great struggle for her. She's falling a lot and it's hard to look at her bruised knees and elbows and not HATE this horribly ugly MPS. She has less and less smiles, and she's content sitting or laying on the couch now a days. She can't move herself out of an uncomfortable sleeping position. She can only cry out. Digression is a bitch, and it's literally taking her more and more. That is what takes digging deeper. She's facing a swallow study and those results could mean another change in her care. At this point, I just want to get the results and do what we need to do in order to keep her safe and nourished. I can understand that care taking can take a toll and be stressful at times, but to me, it's not a burden. We have a responsibility to take care of the one's we love. Life is extremely precious and fragile and by allowing stress or negativity to over come care taking is robbing people of the opportunity to<strong> dig deep</strong> and learn from that experience. I pray that if you are reading this and you have a child with great needs, little needs, are caretaking for someone, or you are going through something tough your self, that you can <strong>dig deep</strong> within your heart and cherish the time you have with the one's you love the most. Health especially can change in the blink of an eye. Life can change in the blink of an eye. I pray that you can find peace in order to INHALE what this one precious life has to offer. </div>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-85955324684683122532015-03-20T15:49:00.000-05:002015-03-20T15:49:45.189-05:00A Letter<div class="MsoNormal">
Dear Sanfilippo Syndrome,<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
I’m taking the time
to write this letter to you, because frankly, it’s time that I let you know how
I really feel.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
It’s been 5 years, 8
months and 11 days since we’ve found out about you. That’s 2080 days we’ve known your name. I’ve been quite content not to address you,
but now it’s my turn to face you.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’d like to know how
it feels to know that you have stolen many of our dreams. How does it feel to<o:p></o:p><br />
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know that you have slowly
over time, robbed our daughter of every chance at a normal childhood. How does it feel to know that you are a
murderer? Are you proud of the many
tears that you have caused us to shed?
Is your plan to darken all of our days?
Do you laugh at the thought of the fear that you bring? Do you exist to defeat?</div>
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When we were first
told about you, you answered these questions for me. In fact, it was clearly stated in that
tri-fold brochure that we were handed just how ugly you were going to be. That your life altering, quiet presence would
tip-toe in our daughter’s body and ever so slowly start to show your ugly
face. In these 2080 days, you’ve taken
her voice; that sweet voice that once said “I love you” to her mom and
dad. That voice that was able to call
her baby sister by name. “Ninley” she
called her sister, Finley. That voice
that <o:p></o:p><br />
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loved to sing “Jesus loves me,” and “happy birthday.” In 2080 days, your presence in her body has
caused her to seize, caused her to have a feeding tube, and you are slowly
taking her ability to walk and run. I
had dreams for our Livia Grace. I
dreamed of one day watching her walk down the aisle in my wedding gown. Now, because of you, I have to think about
cutting the threads of my beloved gown to make her funeral dress.</div>
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I have every reason
to hate you. To scream how horrible and
unfair you are. How I wish I never knew
you. It would be so easy for you to
consume every ounce of every minute of every last breath I have. I’m sure your plan was to defeat us. I could use everything I had to curse your
name. To spend the rest of my life
bitter, angry, and consumed with the thought of you.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But I won’t.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I don’t have time for
you.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://scontent-ord.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-frc3/v/t1.0-9/1012372_10201229952489120_1525163005_n.jpg?oh=b947ceb3cce1b5e7c5b65f512b9bc06b&oe=55709651" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://scontent-ord.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-frc3/v/t1.0-9/1012372_10201229952489120_1525163005_n.jpg?oh=b947ceb3cce1b5e7c5b65f512b9bc06b&oe=55709651" width="200" /></a>That evil, ugly plan
that was laid out before us in that tri-fold; we aren’t allowing it to prevail
over our family.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
You see, your plan
has back-fired. Your presence, although
un-welcome, has changed everything.
You’ve changed our hearts, our eyes, our priorities, and most of all our
village of support. Not only do we love
more fiercely, appreciate more greatly, but we know the importance of taking
care of one another. You’ve brought
people into our life that has decided to walk alongside us through this
<o:p></o:p><br />
journey. A community of people that are
inspired by an 8 year old girl; a child who has brought even the strongest men
to drop to their knees and embrace her.</div>
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Sanfillipo Syndrome, unfortunately,
you will always be a part of our world.
You will be included in our vocabulary, but you will not be included in
how we love, how we LIV, and how we cherish every day. You see, good really does prevail over evil. Every part of you is evil, but every part of
our daughter’s life is good. Her inability
to verbally speak into our hearts trumps the way her eyes look into our
souls. Her complete dependence on us as
her parents to keep her fed, keep her clean, keep her safe has given us a new
appreciation on how lucky we are to simply wash our own hands. The ugliness you bring in the night when she
fights to sleep only deepens our gratitude to wake with the opportunity of a
new day. The smiles and laughter that
you are stealing make us celebrate as if we’ve won the lottery when a smile or laugh
shows up. Sanfilippo, you are life
stealing, but you’ve given us a new life.
One in which we will never give up the hope that a miracle will save our
baby girl, but one in which we LIV for the promise of heaven.<br />
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-48428519917459020312015-02-05T14:22:00.002-06:002015-02-05T14:23:14.491-06:00Eight<div style="text-align: center;">
I vividly remember many details of this week 8 years ago. I loved being pregnant. I felt good through the entire 9 months. I loved every pregnancy moment with both of my girls. I was on my feet a lot when I was pregnant with Liv. I was a surgical tech at the time. (Loved that job!) Ironically, I was at work getting ready to scrub into a case. I received a phone call from the main OR (that's the ironic part). They called to tell me they had a time slot open on the 6th if I wanted to come in a day early for my c-section. I didn't even think twice and said, YES, of course! I immediately called Jake and shared the good news with him. He shared in my excitement that we were going to meet our baby girl a day earlier than expected.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9KLp2rFJYmsMxSWsIpg895JksJez9sILfcFPigkYfwIRIP7Bluit0OUCaftElu_EXzraHUJQtietBAHOKp3DdOiulArfxlL-hGizLt9lFVDufpq8y6C2kGJlxmaFUP1O4jGCX9nAz_Qw/s1600/232323232-fp388-nu=32;--43;-69;-WSNRCG=3235553547689nu0mrj.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9KLp2rFJYmsMxSWsIpg895JksJez9sILfcFPigkYfwIRIP7Bluit0OUCaftElu_EXzraHUJQtietBAHOKp3DdOiulArfxlL-hGizLt9lFVDufpq8y6C2kGJlxmaFUP1O4jGCX9nAz_Qw/s1600/232323232-fp388-nu=32;--43;-69;-WSNRCG=3235553547689nu0mrj.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a>The beauty of working in the OR and needing a c-section is that I was able to hand pick my OR staff for Livia's birthday. The surgeon, scrub-tech, CRNA, anesthesiologist, they were all my friends. People I worked with. People I trusted with my vulnerable body, and of course trusted to safely remove my first born. I remember just about every single day of being on the other side of the blue curtain. I of course, remember the nerves. However, the environment that was created that day was one of excitement and celebration. It was personal for everyone in that room, and they made me feel that way. They shared in my nerves, excitement, and anticipation for our girl. Of course, I remember Jake. When he was escorted into the OR, my friend Greg who was the CRNA, brought Jake to my </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn9e3tooLA8vVW6wC7mx75ArcGbGe0-R9MblC_M6LkxpaN9K_fyfmZWggqz5oiHmWFaA595ueOJuXTbn1JQ02fe1kqHLfyIUZ39KDYLNeXPLV1q7RceER6flyh1X7Io-XVQkaEBBaiu_E/s1600/232323232-fp384-nu=32;--43;-69;-WSNRCG=323555354985-nu0mrj.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn9e3tooLA8vVW6wC7mx75ArcGbGe0-R9MblC_M6LkxpaN9K_fyfmZWggqz5oiHmWFaA595ueOJuXTbn1JQ02fe1kqHLfyIUZ39KDYLNeXPLV1q7RceER6flyh1X7Io-XVQkaEBBaiu_E/s1600/232323232-fp384-nu=32;--43;-69;-WSNRCG=323555354985-nu0mrj.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CRNA extraordinaire, Greg</td></tr>
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head. He told Jake...."Just don't touch anything blue." I remember Jake's eyes over his mask. He was wide eyed, and focused on me. His hand on my shoulder and he whispered in my ear "We get to meet our baby girl. I love you so much." When the meds hit my system, I was overwhelmed with nausea. Greg, being the amazing guy he is, came in quickly to my rescue and simply put an alcohol wipe under my nose and told me to breath deep. I did, and it was instant relief. Greg, I still love you so much for that moment. I thought, how simple, how caring, and how out of the way he went to make me feel better. It wasn't long at all. A few tugs, a few familiar smells, and sounds. I knew exactly what they were doing on the other side of the curtain. I was so ready. I wanted her here. Jake was told to stand up to see her coming out. Greg had to kindly remind him not to jump into the sterile field. He was ready to pull Liv out himself. I heard the suction, I heard the cry. I heard my friend Renee say "she had so much dark hair!" Then the curtain dropped. This next moment is one that I pray I remember until my last. The very first moment I laid my eyes on my girl. She was so perfect. Her hands and feet were curled so tightly into her body. As if she were holding herself. Her lips were so full and so dark pink. Her hair was dark. Everyone celebrated her arrival in tears and smiles. I had no idea how in that room that day, not only was my daughter being born, but my heart was being born. My heart wasn't just being delivered, it was being transformed. Like a re birth of my heart through the birth of my daughter.<br />
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It's no secret that Livia's birthday has an undertone of sadness for me. How can it not? It's a "mask" moment for me. I go on with planning a party, inviting, cooking, baking, present buying, all while wearing a mask. Her birthday is a reminder that she has a death sentence, and time is not on her side. I do all these typical birthday things while wearing my mask. Shielding the feelings of fear, anger, sadness, and all the emotions that should NEVER be tied to a birthday. It's unfair, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let it steal my joy. You see, Sanfilippo Syndrome and I have it out.....a lot. And I always win. I'm no rookie at this birthday thing, so I've had time to prepare this year. In years past, I'd be in a brawl with SS and my thoughts would be...she's going to be 5, and then 6, and then 7. What's going to happen then??? This year, I'm embracing that she's 8 years old. She gets to be an 8 year old. I have an 8 year old!!!! And that's it. I want to celebrate her life and that she's here. I get to wake up to her tomorrow, hold her, sing happy birthday to her, and celebrate with those that love her the most in this life. She is more beautiful today than I could have ever hoped for. She is the most calm, laid back, pure little person that I've ever known. She has taught me more of how I should be as a human than any other person. How powerful is that, when she has no words to teach such things.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWFBinHjWEFfh99YDErcPPRk8vg7s3ieLLUlIuM5Ng503JlV4JA069QWXbE_9TXHLtmTe-7ZMoG1nSxYieOuTMQpaVaJv8xlEIzkKPMs_ufJYif3VM7vAyZ3rbEhrIVtZSaJcisNwV1WY/s1600/10926263_10205614755026443_243023081471664104_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWFBinHjWEFfh99YDErcPPRk8vg7s3ieLLUlIuM5Ng503JlV4JA069QWXbE_9TXHLtmTe-7ZMoG1nSxYieOuTMQpaVaJv8xlEIzkKPMs_ufJYif3VM7vAyZ3rbEhrIVtZSaJcisNwV1WY/s1600/10926263_10205614755026443_243023081471664104_o.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a>As far as my heart, I've learned that my heart is on loan to me. That's one big fat pill to swallow, but because of the opportunity that Jake and I have been given since that blue curtain has dropped has been a true experience of re birth. What we have taken so far is that if we are able to nurture that heart, fill it with as much love as humanly possible, share that heart with others, it will truly be ours forever. </div>
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Happy 8th Birthday, my beautiful and perfect Livia Grace. May this 8th year of your life be the best one yet. I'm so thankful for you, every single day. You've grown me into my best. xoxo</div>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-5544290515829162432015-01-21T15:36:00.000-06:002015-01-21T15:46:04.157-06:00Equipped<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgELUP7bjSfo4D5krKmrplq0CdS7Xar9aRNR3G6VJfaAfWWL5rfR2QejH-Wo0UbyXXqsW1SOe4LgcJIVPxkT9hQ_arc_YkLSbN4xIK-SQ7eTm2qU1BxD-pdhAc1UD9i-Sm_a50xyYrpCho/s1600/IMG_9233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgELUP7bjSfo4D5krKmrplq0CdS7Xar9aRNR3G6VJfaAfWWL5rfR2QejH-Wo0UbyXXqsW1SOe4LgcJIVPxkT9hQ_arc_YkLSbN4xIK-SQ7eTm2qU1BxD-pdhAc1UD9i-Sm_a50xyYrpCho/s1600/IMG_9233.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a>she was having night time seizures. Her little body would thrash in her bed causing black eyes and scratches on her face. Even holding her through it, her body convulsed. She screamed and moaned throughout every. single. night. Hearing these sounds come from her non verbal, barely laughing anymore self, was heart breaking. The sleep study came and went. The results included sleep apnea, periodic limb movement syndrome, night terror syndrome, and possible frontal lobe epilepsy. 3 new medications introduced and life has changed dramatically. She's sleeping. Barely crying out. This change happened literally, overnight. <br />
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Those sleepless nights became a battle ground for me.</div>
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Fighting with myself to keep perspective.The dark has teeth, anyway. But then combine no sleep, fear for what was happening to my love, horrible thoughts that no parent should have, anger for not getting sleep, frustration, etc. etc. It was affecting every aspect of our life. It's a daily discipline to<i> control</i> my thoughts. I strive to keep it positive and focused. Control. I've given up on the idea of control. I'm certainly not in ultimate control. I often pray that God would guide my thoughts to His. I love the verse in Philippians. <b><i>4:8 "And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise." </i></b>How beautiful and true is that? And, in a way, offers a little control back in our life. When I fix my mind on this, and pray this way, I can feel my thoughts drift away from the horrible scary, towards that which is most lovely. I'm not willing to waste my days on misery, negative contemplation, or fear. It's a daily battle; especially when Sanfilippo</div>
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shows it's life stealing, horrid, evil, ugly face. I refuse to dwindle or let that evil win in this brief and precious time we have together. I choose most often, that which is pure and lovely. I get to call her mine. Livia and Finley are the pure lights in my life. Their little lives have taught me more than I have ever learned. Even in the midst of this terminal diagnosis with Livia, life has never felt more meaningful and fulfilling. I feel equipped with what I will need to survive this life. It's freeing and humbling. I still have a lot to learn, but embracing the pain and loving through it is how I know how to survive.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirJtaXwbLR9wsSaFtxNS2wjf-4hjJOYTNZisZvPUjSqNtdZAgsVq5I4Syb7i6LaUAbHjEYvxc3A0wlFuZBkgNbRlXIONSbyHT9GYJ9jn9GVO19NAmxVBCjFt6m_ZwSAMvxdxbBq3qRAkU/s1600/IMG_9207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirJtaXwbLR9wsSaFtxNS2wjf-4hjJOYTNZisZvPUjSqNtdZAgsVq5I4Syb7i6LaUAbHjEYvxc3A0wlFuZBkgNbRlXIONSbyHT9GYJ9jn9GVO19NAmxVBCjFt6m_ZwSAMvxdxbBq3qRAkU/s1600/IMG_9207.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a>"God will never give you more than you can handle." I can't tell you how many times I've heard this. People say this with the best intentions, but I can't stand it. I respect it, but completely disagree with it. I don't believe this because if it were true, then no one would have trials. No one would grow. "Easy" has never been promised. What I believe is that we are equipped with everything we need to survive. To me, L O V E is the resounding theme. I've never felt more fully alive and in love than I do today. This journey that we are on has made me feel human. I know that sounds funny, but before now, I felt as if I were skating through life, unscathed. Now, through trial and pain, moments are more brilliant. Time is more precious. Lives matter more. I'm not comparing who I am but rather embracing what I believe in and loving through it. <b style="font-style: italic;">Proverbs 24:32 "I applied my heart (my love) to what I observed and learned a lesson from what I saw." </b>This lesson, this trial has fully equipped me with love, and that's all I need.</div>
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<b>*2015*</b></div>
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A new year.</div>
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Fresh start, new resolutions, goals, organization, a new 12 month slapped on the wall (do people still do that?) Happy new year, and a Kumbya circle of "Auld Lang Syne."</div>
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I did my best to avoid all of it, until today.</div>
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I was quite content in 2014. Jake and I celebrated 10 years. The girls are at great ages. I have the best of friends I've ever had my entire life. Family is healthy (for the most part). But there is no STOP button that I've found yet. I could have planted myself in 2014 and been fine to stay right there.</div>
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A new year means another year gone. That scares me, and feels completely unfair and out of control. A new year means another birthday. 8 years old. What will it bring? I know, I know.....no one knows what the future holds. I could be dead in 5 minutes. But, our world, our every day passed is a clash between acute awareness of blessings and another day closer to Sanfilippo taking over our daughter. It's a daily battle to get my head above the water to get a breath. But I always do. It's a daily battle to not look too far ahead and get consumed with.....what then? But I do. It's taken a lot of growth and a lot of soul searching to know that with God, anything....especially love can make even the hardest circumstances doable. It's taken time. It's taken years.</div>
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So, as I'm still not in the mood for that Kumbya circle, what I can appreciate is something I've learned from these years. Through each hurdle or circumstance, I must allow the time that I need through each event. This journey has opened my eyes to many many things. An important one that I realized in 2014 is rediscovering me. What I'm capable of, what's important to me, and the most important is to stop comparing my life to anyone else's. It's been so freeing. Of course, I refused to make a new year's resolution, and honestly I'm not much into resolutions. I feel like we should all strive to be our best throughout the 365, and not just on the 364th feel anew and only make it to day 10. But that's my little ole opinion. So this being day 6, it's definitely not a new year's resolution, but a renewed theme that I feel is our life. It is this......To love fiercely and intently every single day. To take care of one another as if our own lives depended on it. To keep our eyes fixed on the eternal promise, pray, slow down and listen, and keep our Heavenly Father involved in all of it.</div>
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Happy New Year, my friends. My heart is still burdened with the idea of another year gone, but I'm extremely grateful and hopeful for 2015. I respect and look forward to the wisdom that comes along with "time." </div>
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until next time......</div>
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love,</div>
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Kelly</div>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-14137502387694644062014-11-07T20:24:00.000-06:002014-11-07T20:24:34.507-06:00#tbt #fbf<div style="text-align: center;">
#tbt Throw back Thursday</div>
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#fbf Flash back Friday</div>
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I don't know about you, but I love looking at "old" pictures. I have a great stash of photo's that came from my grandma and grandpa Fish's house. When my grandma passed away, and her house was being cleaned out, I grabbed as many as I was allowed.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gma Fish, baby Kelly, Dad, Great Gma</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Audra, Kelly, Gpa Fish</td></tr>
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The pictures are mostly of my dad. Ranging from new born pics all the way through to when I was born. There are a few of some other family members, and of course, my grandma and grandpa.<br />
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My grandma Freeman (my mom's mom) is an uninhibited picture taker. Her home is full of pictures displayed as well as albums filled. One of my favorite things to do when I'm at her house is to look through those albums. Wherever she is, her camera is with her. I think I get my impulsive urge to photo take from her.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW3IUJamY3v07fxJ6JhCH-2J061onyQeghe0pY0MSxXX01tYqkp3NpMYAqPSJQS6dVgunEOBWjVOQibZN1AjJJcmST8VCNsYp8Usv8Ym1_nGXq4Pi44JWqBoLPr3ZGpYq-oqP4PQpeNqw/s1600/scan0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW3IUJamY3v07fxJ6JhCH-2J061onyQeghe0pY0MSxXX01tYqkp3NpMYAqPSJQS6dVgunEOBWjVOQibZN1AjJJcmST8VCNsYp8Usv8Ym1_nGXq4Pi44JWqBoLPr3ZGpYq-oqP4PQpeNqw/s1600/scan0005.jpg" height="320" width="310" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Kelly, Papa & Gma Freeman</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYIMBGO13Dg9xMqZdIeHzDzPnesg0RlsDrf-lo9SnslGyiR000HKIvjnGOMKW5CuktCXUQcqSuuezn67AXLyMRC75YKmH4SqWRPp1vkoRIGLjSAQNo-g4OzNdkfLr_YUCh_oGNgX3axso/s1600/scan0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYIMBGO13Dg9xMqZdIeHzDzPnesg0RlsDrf-lo9SnslGyiR000HKIvjnGOMKW5CuktCXUQcqSuuezn67AXLyMRC75YKmH4SqWRPp1vkoRIGLjSAQNo-g4OzNdkfLr_YUCh_oGNgX3axso/s1600/scan0001.jpg" height="141" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">George, Jake, Tim, Heidi, Patrick, Cindy</td></tr>
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Pictures mean a lot to me. I take numerous pictures every day. Whether on my phone or on my rebel t2i. I've become pretty obsessed with photography and am currently researching new lenses. I'm no professional, but I love it. I'm desperate to capture everything and to learn how to take the best pictures.</div>
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When it comes to #tbt and #fbf, I want to hide. If you're not familiar with this social media trend, it's pretty easy to figure out. People post a picture from the past and tag it #tbt or #fbf, depending on the day. Now, I like to look at other people's posts, but to participate myself is extremely hard.</div>
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There is something about looking at pictures of loved ones that have passed. For me, a sense of warmth mixed with longing mixed with man do I love these people comes over me. I also start "wishing." Wishing I would have said this or that. Wishing I would have asked certain questions. Longing for just one more moment with that person.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmfyFahK1WUO40dFasJkEGAKATdjHX2d7EgLv09NjWOlj3mNO4r8zC_rHouVs4p2NsVX0nDsDcbRzHQIPaowhFvNoSz-056n8r4TF_SzNJIos9HcYWSMoOgNeCOiwVrjYCU8gTJOoULUY/s1600/scan0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmfyFahK1WUO40dFasJkEGAKATdjHX2d7EgLv09NjWOlj3mNO4r8zC_rHouVs4p2NsVX0nDsDcbRzHQIPaowhFvNoSz-056n8r4TF_SzNJIos9HcYWSMoOgNeCOiwVrjYCU8gTJOoULUY/s1600/scan0008.jpg" height="141" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gpa Hubert and Jake</td></tr>
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Happiness for the memories created and the life that once was. Reminiscing is what these pictures present and what #tbt and #fbf represent. However, for me, with Liv, the act of looking backwards is just a firm reminder of what has been lost, the changes that have occurred within her, and what her future holds. It's so bittersweet to look back. I avoid it at all costs, however, it's all around me. And ultimately, it's ok.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYI0Q3EpabjBBguLrTRwcYcEzCqjIRA0crJfnGbQOc6sTqQRrWHtjG3pMbudwKLdBZJGT6zs53hVv0ZDNfhtOwVcMPn1eB3ygYWowosGz8LxUbqm1JL_S_HZWOooKH_ItboGmilFTdx-8/s1600/Fridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYI0Q3EpabjBBguLrTRwcYcEzCqjIRA0crJfnGbQOc6sTqQRrWHtjG3pMbudwKLdBZJGT6zs53hVv0ZDNfhtOwVcMPn1eB3ygYWowosGz8LxUbqm1JL_S_HZWOooKH_ItboGmilFTdx-8/s1600/Fridge.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Fridge</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZHTcM7q2cIFwHcgSINqHEedbsP43CZIWlKr1Pj6jOdNfw5ggRoWUlVzzUmoZfCoZJz-3Lz42djOpSqF9HPh-90bCq70oSQhieHGwjrfiExCx0IVdZ3x38ZJgUQT1d3nrTn4mRc9wicDg/s1600/scan0007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZHTcM7q2cIFwHcgSINqHEedbsP43CZIWlKr1Pj6jOdNfw5ggRoWUlVzzUmoZfCoZJz-3Lz42djOpSqF9HPh-90bCq70oSQhieHGwjrfiExCx0IVdZ3x38ZJgUQT1d3nrTn4mRc9wicDg/s1600/scan0007.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great Great Grandma and baby Kelly</td></tr>
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I find myself searching for her smile. Her laugh. They seem to be few and far between these days. You know that book "Let me hold you longer" by Karen Kingsbury? I love it so much, but "will I recognize your lasts?" is a quote from that book that rings in my mind on a daily basis. Will this day be the last smile or laugh? Frankly, it's horrible. But on the flip side, getting a smile or a laugh is like opening a Christmas present because I am so in tune to holding on to her before the cloud of MPS gets too dark.<br />
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So, I take a million and one pics, but rarely do I look back. Video's, heck no. Just today I had my camera out and have this 15 second video that I have locked on my memory card. It's of Finley when she was 2 years old. She's dressed in a pirate's costume and I have her say "Scurvy buccaneer" and "Shiver me timbers." I showed it to her. We sat and watched that video together for 5 minutes. Playing it over and over again. We laughed so hard and she asked me so many questions about it. It was such a great 5 minutes. I remember, as a kid, loving to watch home videos (on BETA, yes BETA video). We have video of Liv before diagnosis, and I've never watched them. But, I'm glad we have them. Just like the million and one pictures I've taken and will take. They are a security blanket for me. Because one day, it's all I'll have of her. These pictures will help me remember every. single. thing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibE6ImxX1MFTBrh2VJT4SYQyj8CcVYZOc8tKshOPkec5kEU4oH3P4TlRShaTgXboypcIoCcMbv3OAdpNBZMAVjsHEZFEnJAol-4JBGSBqxQKFpco63w4Vg0x-bMBO5QS9lByaS90OcsRw/s1600/scan0002+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibE6ImxX1MFTBrh2VJT4SYQyj8CcVYZOc8tKshOPkec5kEU4oH3P4TlRShaTgXboypcIoCcMbv3OAdpNBZMAVjsHEZFEnJAol-4JBGSBqxQKFpco63w4Vg0x-bMBO5QS9lByaS90OcsRw/s1600/scan0002+(1).jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A #fbf of my baby girls</td></tr>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-64443121270311019132014-10-07T13:27:00.003-05:002014-10-07T13:27:57.358-05:00Pay it Forward<div style="text-align: center;">
"Pay it forward." This is a term that I'm sure we are all familiar with. It originated with Lily Hardy Hammond in her 1916 book <i>In the Garden of Delight. </i>She described this "deed" as "alternative giving," I love this because alternative means different, and giving means generosity. I always thought of "pay it forward" as an on going movement. Something we can all do because we've been motivated or inspired by someone else's generosity or kind act. To pay it forward, in a sense, is to continue the act of showing love because of love.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh031UeDTxrFJQR_ig0YSEbeyvUd6GBqxBD742BwZpax4xmGX30aUJGKpV1SVsDGt8qsn_6JepLYptfHhIBfVz2xp60h3r9m3QMojh32t1sZYPQiLIdW0sOkusyoyByIwzn3KBhK4L5UzM/s1600/IMG_7967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh031UeDTxrFJQR_ig0YSEbeyvUd6GBqxBD742BwZpax4xmGX30aUJGKpV1SVsDGt8qsn_6JepLYptfHhIBfVz2xp60h3r9m3QMojh32t1sZYPQiLIdW0sOkusyoyByIwzn3KBhK4L5UzM/s1600/IMG_7967.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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No matter what situation or circumstance we are facing, we've all been equipped with the "tools" we need in order to survive. Some days it may feel like the tool we need is buried deep within our junk drawers, but we know it's there. Some days it feels like; if I have to pick up that tool one more time to fix ......, I'm going to flip my flip'n lid! Some days it may feel like, THANK GOD I have this tool. I'd be completely lost in this life without it. Some days it may feel like; I'm standing in this tool aisle without one clue of which to choose. Within each of us, our tool box exists. For me; the way my day goes, my job performance, how I react to Jake or the girls, the way I treat my family and friends, my outlook, depends on my attitude towards my "tools." </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHSSn5v9NJVwamNl4ihVgSBGbKIO_9a4jvN2hzQYKot4NcVC6UhMtKTmGROF3AfinINGKgr1fArrNWyklPwx1H04YtfVid_vzRISKToynsBwJAll-WNaAifUaQ_mNlDBAPrTLInpJFWMg/s1600/10703974_10204590966712375_3745761642348667546_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHSSn5v9NJVwamNl4ihVgSBGbKIO_9a4jvN2hzQYKot4NcVC6UhMtKTmGROF3AfinINGKgr1fArrNWyklPwx1H04YtfVid_vzRISKToynsBwJAll-WNaAifUaQ_mNlDBAPrTLInpJFWMg/s1600/10703974_10204590966712375_3745761642348667546_n.jpg" /></a> I hear more often than not "I have no clue how you do what you do." I hear it about the way I work out, the marathons I run, dealing with the situation with Livia, the foundation stuff, etc. etc. But the same thing comes to mind every time I hear this. I do it because I <b><i>love</i></b> it. I could write an entire separate blog about why I run and workout, but I'll just keep it simple here. It's therapy, and I like being healthy. If exercise or endorphin's could be put in a pill, Walgreens wouldn't be able to keep it on the shelf. It's not always easy, and some days my body is tired, but my "tool" with exercise is survival. Exercise #1 makes me feel better. Exercise helps me keep ahead of the physical demands I need with Liv. Exercise also has created many many awesome relationships that I'm so thankful for. I'd say everything else on my list, I equip myself with love. I used to be hesitant about writing about love, or saying how getting through this journey is easier because of love. But ya know what, it is. These circumstances or situations we are facing are all lessons. Having Liv and this journey we are facing with her has flipped this switch inside of me. I reflect, a lot. I think about growing up, family situations, personal decisions, wrong doings, great doings, and how I've been shaped through all of it. The attitude we give towards whatever we are facing is going to determine the character, the strength, and the success in life. In no way do I think I have everything figured out. But what I do know is that I'm able to do what I do, and function, because of love.</div>
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This past Sunday, my family of 4 was out at breakfast after church. Our server was very attentive to our needs and frequented our table. Especially at the end of our meal. Even after I sent the girls milk back for tasting "off," she presented at our table with a huge smile. The last visit to our table she said "is there anything else I can get for you?" Jake responded with "no thank you, just our check." The waitress smiled even bigger and said "NO, your bill has been taken care of." Jake and I both looked at each other, jaws on table, asking why. She explained that she and another one of the servers had paid for our bill. She looked at me and asked if she could hug me. She told me that she recognized us and had seen our story on facebook. She explained that she wanted to "pay if forward" to us for "doing such a good job and being an inspiration." In that moment, if my heart could have exploded, it would have. Jake and I sobbed. I was so humbled and touched that this 20 something server was showing us this love and generosity. This situation, this lesson, taught me how I want to be. Generosity is a HUGE value that, personally, I've had to evolve with. (another blog topic) In a way I feel undeserving because I'm doing what I know how to do. Loving my family, taking care of my children's needs, it's all easy. I would take care of my girls for the rest of my life if I had to. I appreciate the server's generosity so much. I wish I would have asked her name. I wish I would have found a manager and asked him/her to give their amazing servers a raise. I told Jake that someday, when we are old, and it's our time to "pay it forward," I want to do things like this. If we come across a special needs family, I want to buy them a pack of diapers, because we know how it feels to be recipients of love.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh80RhLYW2Z88-GsaF837e205Yd8pa-7V5mTuyLrKccuD6mIqCA72hdNlWtokOxjikzE6ddiVApSMYOM87qQd8vUG0v8U8NaPObFUCLRTXgPVKJRzbhSzxpoMRY2hvlUgjElGQLqEJbAok/s1600/10592809_10204666026868832_1542948644986258605_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh80RhLYW2Z88-GsaF837e205Yd8pa-7V5mTuyLrKccuD6mIqCA72hdNlWtokOxjikzE6ddiVApSMYOM87qQd8vUG0v8U8NaPObFUCLRTXgPVKJRzbhSzxpoMRY2hvlUgjElGQLqEJbAok/s1600/10592809_10204666026868832_1542948644986258605_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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The #1 lesson I've learned having Liv is because of her perfect innocence. Even though Livia can not speak, her actions speak volumes. Livia thrives on being around others. She loves to hold anyone's hand. She stares into people's faces. She especially stares at people who have a visible, loving, tender soul. She knows. Liv has taught me something that I know, without her, I would have never recognized. We were created to love one another. All she knows, all she wants, is to be near people. If we all were that way, if we all just loved, wouldn't this world be a more pleasant place?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zcUGN1V1fslXXG6MzQrLaaQI40BqviHuFdKXRKisawHi5Ydsz1n0U1BkMgwCpt2MZM0mybjLa2N3LY86vD9hUKyKDc8cBp_j_mtSpf92eviPxBO44Hg6cxjClW4vzBRbOE45Hsjho3w/s1600/10672346_10204516336446665_579526240428530079_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zcUGN1V1fslXXG6MzQrLaaQI40BqviHuFdKXRKisawHi5Ydsz1n0U1BkMgwCpt2MZM0mybjLa2N3LY86vD9hUKyKDc8cBp_j_mtSpf92eviPxBO44Hg6cxjClW4vzBRbOE45Hsjho3w/s1600/10672346_10204516336446665_579526240428530079_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<h1 class="passage-display" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-weight: 500; line-height: 1.1; margin: 0px 0px 20px; text-align: center;">
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px; padding-right: 10px;">Colossians 3 </span></h1>
<h3 style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 1.55em; font-weight: 500; line-height: 1.1; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 20px; text-align: center;">
<span class="text Col-3-1" id="en-NIV-29519" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">Living as Those Made Alive in Christ</span></h3>
<div class="chapter-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span class="text Col-3-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="chapternum" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; bottom: -0.1em; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 24px; font-weight: bold; left: 0px; line-height: 0.8em; position: relative;">3 </span>Since, then, you have been raised with Christ,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29519A" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29519A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29519B" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29519B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> <span class="text Col-3-2" id="en-NIV-29520" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">2 </span>Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29520C" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29520C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> <span class="text Col-3-3" id="en-NIV-29521" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">3 </span>For you died,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29521D" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29521D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.</span> <span class="text Col-3-4" id="en-NIV-29522" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">4 </span>When Christ, who is your<span class="footnote" data-fn="#fen-NIV-29522a" data-link="[<a href="#fen-NIV-29522a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">[<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Colossians+3&version=NIV#fen-NIV-29522a" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #b34b2c; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: top;" title="See footnote a">a</a>]</span> life,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29522E" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29522E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> appears,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29522F" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29522F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> then you also will appear with him in glory.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29522G" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29522G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span></div>
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<span class="text Col-3-5" id="en-NIV-29523" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">5 </span>Put to death,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29523H" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29523H" title="See cross-reference H">H</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature:<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29523I" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29523I" title="See cross-reference I">I</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> sexual immorality,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29523J" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29523J" title="See cross-reference J">J</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>impurity, lust, evil desires and greed,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29523K" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29523K" title="See cross-reference K">K</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> which is idolatry.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29523L" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29523L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> <span class="text Col-3-6" id="en-NIV-29524" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">6 </span>Because of these, the wrath of God<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29524M" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29524M" title="See cross-reference M">M</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> is coming.<span class="footnote" data-fn="#fen-NIV-29524b" data-link="[<a href="#fen-NIV-29524b" title="See footnote b">b</a>]" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">[<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Colossians+3&version=NIV#fen-NIV-29524b" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #b34b2c; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: top;" title="See footnote b">b</a>]</span></span> <span class="text Col-3-7" id="en-NIV-29525" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">7 </span>You used to walk in these ways, in the life you once lived.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29525N" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29525N" title="See cross-reference N">N</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> <span class="text Col-3-8" id="en-NIV-29526" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">8 </span>But now you must also rid yourselves<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29526O" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29526O" title="See cross-reference O">O</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29526P" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29526P" title="See cross-reference P">P</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> and filthy language from your lips.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29526Q" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29526Q" title="See cross-reference Q">Q</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> <span class="text Col-3-9" id="en-NIV-29527" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">9 </span>Do not lie to each other,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29527R" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29527R" title="See cross-reference R">R</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> since you have taken off your old self<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29527S" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29527S" title="See cross-reference S">S</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> with its practices</span> <span class="text Col-3-10" id="en-NIV-29528" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">10 </span>and have put on the new self,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29528T" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29528T" title="See cross-reference T">T</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> which is being renewed<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29528U" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29528U" title="See cross-reference U">U</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> in knowledge in the image of its Creator.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29528V" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29528V" title="See cross-reference V">V</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> <span class="text Col-3-11" id="en-NIV-29529" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">11 </span>Here there is no Gentile or Jew,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29529W" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29529W" title="See cross-reference W">W</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> circumcised or uncircumcised,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29529X" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29529X" title="See cross-reference X">X</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> barbarian, Scythian, slave or free,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29529Y" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29529Y" title="See cross-reference Y">Y</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> but Christ is all,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29529Z" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29529Z" title="See cross-reference Z">Z</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> and is in all.</span></div>
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<span class="text Col-3-12" id="en-NIV-29530" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">12 </span>Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29530AA" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29530AA" title="See cross-reference AA">AA</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> with compassion, kindness, humility,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29530AB" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29530AB" title="See cross-reference AB">AB</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> gentleness and patience.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29530AC" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29530AC" title="See cross-reference AC">AC</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="text Col-3-13" id="en-NIV-29531" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">13 </span>Bear with each other<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29531AD" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29531AD" title="See cross-reference AD">AD</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29531AE" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29531AE" title="See cross-reference AE">AE</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="text Col-3-14" id="en-NIV-29532" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><b style="background-color: magenta;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">14 </span><span style="font-size: small;">And over all these virtues put on </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">love</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29532AF" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29532AF" title="See cross-reference AF">AF</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span><span style="font-size: small;"> which binds them all together in perfect unity.</span></b><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29532AG" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29532AG" title="See cross-reference AG">AG</a>)" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span></div>
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<span class="text Col-3-15" id="en-NIV-29533" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">15 </span>Let the peace of Christ<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29533AH" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29533AH" title="See cross-reference AH">AH</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> rule in your hearts, since as members of one body<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29533AI" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29533AI" title="See cross-reference AI">AI</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> you were called to peace.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29533AJ" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29533AJ" title="See cross-reference AJ">AJ</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> And be thankful.</span> <span class="text Col-3-16" id="en-NIV-29534" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">16 </span>Let the message of Christ<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29534AK" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29534AK" title="See cross-reference AK">AK</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29534AL" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29534AL" title="See cross-reference AL">AL</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> through psalms,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29534AM" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29534AM" title="See cross-reference AM">AM</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29534AN" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29534AN" title="See cross-reference AN">AN</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> <span class="text Col-3-17" id="en-NIV-29535" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">17 </span>And whatever you do,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29535AO" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29535AO" title="See cross-reference AO">AO</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29535AP" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29535AP" title="See cross-reference AP">AP</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> to God the Father through him.</span></div>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1189455153814162648.post-92148553758857867872014-08-20T13:16:00.000-05:002014-08-20T13:20:39.161-05:00A trend that's actually making a huge impact, and you're annoyed.<div style="text-align: center;">
The ice bucket challenge. How many of us are so aware of this? I'm sure somewhere in your conversation today, you will speak or hear about a bucket o ice! Have you been challenged? Taken the challenge? Have no idea what I'm talking about? Ask any random person to show your their Facebook, IG, Twitter, or even Google <i>Nightly News, ice bucket challenge</i>. You will see video after video after video of people pouring ice water on their heads.</div>
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Jake, Finley, and I have even done it!</div>
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I will admit, I'm a regular on social media. I have a love hate relationship with it, but none the less, I'm more addicted than I'd like to admit. We all see things posted, tweeted, or pictures that we don't agree with. We have that right to disagree or not "like" something. We are all entitled to our opinions. I'm not one to usually speak up about something I disagree with, unless it really hits me hard. I don't like to stir the pot, per say, and avoid confrontation at all costs. I like to keep the peace.</div>
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Last night was a different story. I was scrolling through my Facebook news feed and saw a post from a so called "friend." I can't give you every word they said because today this person's Facebook has been deleted OR I've been blocked. So, the post went something like this. <i><b>I'm so tired of seeing all these ice bucket challenges. I think it's just so stupid that people are doing this. I'm so ready for this to be over so that my news feed isn't clogged with all these stupid videos. Maybe I'm just a jerk, or maybe I'm just done with Facebook.</b></i></div>
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Along with all the videos circulating out there are articles people have written for and against the ice bucket challenge. I've read both sides. I've learned a lot about ALS and also learned that this challenge has raised millions for this devastating disease. As far as the articles written against this challenge, the only thing that I can find in these articles that I agree with is that if you are dumping ice on your head on not making some sort of donation, your kind of missing the point.</div>
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So, my response to this person's post was this. "I happen to think the ice bucket challenge is a great thing. It's bringing awareness and funds to this life changing, terminal, no cure, devastating disorder. But, hey, maybe I'm partial because my daughter has a terminal, no cure disorder and this ice bucket challenge has brought awareness and funds to our foundation that supports medical research. I wish more people would stand up for these horrible disorders." Or something along those lines.</div>
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Annoyed with your facebook feed being clogged with these videos? I'm not sorry for it. These rare diseases need a voice, and admit it, these videos of people dumping water on their heads made you smile or laugh. It's trending now, so don't worry, a few weeks from now you'll probably see only a few videos a day. </div>
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My typical facebook feed reads a little like this:</div>
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<li>Please pray for my daughter, she had a horrible seizure last night and we had to rush her to the ER.</li>
<li>My son actually smiled today. I haven't seen that beautiful smile in months.</li>
<li>What medication are you using for your child's movement disorder?</li>
<li>I fear my son is losing the ability to walk. What brand of wheel chair are you using?</li>
<li>Today my worst nightmare is happening. We have to say good bye to our 12 year old daughter.</li>
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So, you'll have to forgive me for being a little sarcastic and opinionated in this blog. However, I will never apologize for being a voice for my daughter, her friends with MPS, or any other rare disease that needs to be heard about, funded, and for people to just gain compassion.</div>
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Not sure about ALS or what it's about? I found this article to being extremely good. <a href="http://www.bostern.com/blog/2014/08/15/what-an-als-family-really-thinks-about-the-ice-bucket-challenge/" target="_blank">http://www.bostern.com/blog/2014/08/15/what-an-als-family-really-thinks-about-the-ice-bucket-challenge/</a><br />
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And just as a side note, I'd dump whatever it took over my head to cure my daughter!</div>
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Liv Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01249972376355633781noreply@blogger.com1