Ava Nicole Buck 05/05/05-08/01/05

Well, it's a little before 8 o'clock in the morning here. I've already formed this post in my head and been to the gas station for coffee (no creamer in the house). The rest of my family is peacefully sleeping, but once again, I'm wide awake. So the story has gone much of this week. As most of you know, Tuesday was a year since the death of our precious niece, Ava Nicole. As I was thinking about what I would say in this post I battled with how to say what I was feeling without sounding too morose. Well, I lost the battle. I FEEL morose. For those of you who know me to be the girl to post happy pictures of my 3 kids, beware, today is not that post. My hope is truly not to offend anyone, but in the light of honesty, share what it really feels like to be in this place. Let me begin by sharing what we did this week.
Monday night Jay and I got a babysitter and went to Josh and Shelly's with my mom and dad. It was just a time where we as adults could have some uninterrupted time to talk. The three of us girls spent a long time in the hottub sharing the things that've been the most difficult for us through the past year. My mom and sister have had to deal with the pain of what they saw and heard that day. Without going into much detail, it was very much like something out of a horrible nightmare. But worse - there is never that relief of waking up and saying, "Whew, glad that was just a dream." You DON'T wake up. For me, the hardest thing has been dealing with the days after her death. I can vividly remember laying in bed with my best friend Amanda and crying like I didn't know was humanly possible. There was such a panic in my that our little girl way all by herself in some room in the basement of a hospital. Probably the hardest thing for me has been the remembering the day of her funeral. Just thing about walking into the funeral home makes my heart start to pound. Why should anyone have to see their 3 month old little girl inside a coffin? I can remember kissing her little head over and over and making sure I said "I love you" enough times that she would hear me in heaven. Seeing Josh and my sister at the gravesite that day is something that instantly makes my throat close up. How does a mother ever go on without knowing what her little girl would've looked like, acted like, loved? As the year has progressed the memory that haunts me more than any is putting her in the ground. They took her little coffin out of the van and ask Jason to help put her in the ground. I'll just be honest and say I went stark raving mad. There was just no spot in my heart and mind to deal with it. I cried and screamed until my mom and Jason finally held me and calmed me down. WHY, HOW can this be happening? Is this even real? Sorry, I know this must be hard to read, but people, this IS our reality. These kinds of things happen to the best of people every day.
Ok... on to Tuesday. We all had some breakfast and then met up at Mom and Dad's at noon. Mom had a craft for the kids to do. (Like I've said before, it seems to help the kids to have some real way to express their grief.) We all loaded up then to go to the cemetery. Once again, the wind was blowing. God KNOWS we need a real reminder that he hasn't forgotten us and it seems EVERY time we go to her grave, the wind is blowing. The kids all put their little crafts around her grave and then let some balloons go. Noah and Zoe especially love to let the balloons "Go up to Ava." We took a long walk all around the cemetery and found all the headstones of children. I know, it sounds pretty morbid, but it's cathartic to know you are not the only people (even in little Allendale) to have experienced such tragedy. I think the most astounding thing was seeing the stones of children who'd died up to 70 years ago and someone was still bring fresh flowers to the grave. It's just proof that you NEVER forget, no matter how much time passes.
After this we all went to the beach. This was the best part of the day. We all seem to feel a bit of peace when we're there. The kids had a blast diving into the huge waves (and so did the adults...) At about dinner time we packed up Josh and Shelly and sent them to a B &B in Grand Haven for a night alone. My mom and dad took Noah and Zoe and our little family went back home to Grand Rapids. As we were driving home, I felt just awful. Like, now what? It's been a year, where do we go from here? As we were pulling out of Allendale, I just felt like we were leaving a little more of her behind. It's hard to explain the feeling... I KNOW she's in heaven and is very MUCH not alone, but I still feel as though when we leave that cemetery, we're abandoning her... Irrational, I know, but this is still how I feel.
Well, as the days continue on, I'll admit to not feeling much better. And if I'm feeling like this, how much MORE must my little sister and Josh be feeling? I'm not sure I'll ever know.
In closing, I hope this encourages all who read to continue to pray for our family and not to forget our precious little girl. She is so much a part of us and ALWAYS will be....