Four years ago tomorrow was the day our lives exploded. I have been wrestling for weeks about what to write about this year. I really, really hate February in general and can’t wait until it’s over. I’m trying not to give too much energy to tomorrow but I find myself thinking back to that day, and the day before it, too. I have very precious memories of the evening before this happened and I think about that all the time. I’m grateful that I took extra time with Lily that night. Who knew it would be the last night like that? I started to write the details of that evening to share with all of you, but I couldn’t do it. Maybe I will someday if I am strong enough.

We are moving forward and trying to participate in living again. As I’ve said before, this doesn’t get easier–it just gets “different.” We’re trying to give Lily the best life we can give her. But it’s hard. Our healing looks like a plate after you shatter it on the floor and try to put it back together with duct tape. It’s together, but ugly and messy and pieces are probably going to fall off at any moment. It’s hard balancing taking care of Lily with parenting a teenager (who still struggles with all of this as well), working full time, trying to hold a marriage together, family, friends, and other activities that help us cope and make us feel normal. It’s exhausting. Sometimes we are managing it, and other times we just can’t.

I’d like to take this opportunity to again thank everyone who was there for us at the very beginning of this whole ordeal. Friends and family who stayed with us for days and even weeks to be there for us and get us whatever we needed. Strangers who sent us donations, cards, letters, emails, food, and prayers. The emergency teams who saved her life. The Life Lion crew who got her to Hershey. The nurses who offered comfort. The people who came and prayed when we were told she was not going to make it. The people who came after she did make it and held us up as we faced uncertainty. And to those who have stuck by us since then–thank you for your continued support. Thank you to our old friends and even some new ones who put up with our crazy but love us tangibly anyway. Thank you for getting that we still need help and friendship, dinners, wine, housecleaning, and a shoulder to cry on. Thank you for not expecting us to be back to normal. Thank you to the online support group I’m a part of where there are other parents who understand what this life is really like. Thanks to our families for sticking by us.

We are grateful to all of you for whatever part you have played in this journey. Thank you for still following Lily’s story. Please, please don’t forget our precious girl. She is our angel and our inspiration (and so is our son). Please pray for Lily and wear pink or purple for her tomorrow. 🙂

This is a song that I listened to a lot after Lily’s accident. It is one of my favorite worship songs. It has brought be a lot of encouragement and comfort over the last four years.

Thank you and God bless you all.