Friday, November 19, 2010


I was debating whether to post a couple more writings.  We have gotten positive feedback from quite a few people saying that they appreciate the glimpse into our lives, into our thoughts, as we continue to mourn our daughter Eleanor. 

Since I couldn’t decide, I let Kristi read them and asked what she thought about posting them.  She pretty much echoed the sentiment that you readers would appreciate the frank emotion and short peek into our lives.

She also said she appreciated reading them in my hand writing.  So I’m trying something new.  I scanned the writings from the book that I have been writing in.  It did not appreciate being squished into the scanner, but I hope you enjoy the results.  If you have trouble reading the images, scroll to the bottom for transcriptions.

First, a letter to Ellie:


And, a poem to Kathy:


Transcription in case you have trouble reading my writing.  First, a letter to Ellie:

Dearest Ellie:

I hope you know how much you mean to me… Even though you only lived briefly outside of mommy’s tummy, we fell deeply in love with you.  In the 9 months leading up to your birth, we got to know your squiggles, your movements and kicks.  We would sit on the couch, me with my hand on mommy’s belly, feeling you move.  At night I would read you a story—usually Fox in Socks.  We thought the rhythm would interest you and even comfort you after you were born.

I had many expectations for you.  And at the same time none.  There were many things I wanted to do with you, but I would have been so happy to let you be you and develop into the person you would become.

You died an hour after you were born.  One expectation every parent has is that their child will outlive them.  This did not happen for me and you.

But really, even that does not matter.  You are still my daughter and I loved every minute I got to spend with you!  I just wish there could have been more.

With deep profound love,


And, a poem for Kathy:

I like being close to you

feeling warm skin on warm skin

laying my head on your chest

feeling it


and fall

with each






You remind me of our little one

who we loved and nurtured

as best we could

Your love makes

our heavy burden

a little


Sunday, November 14, 2010

Run much?

I think this graph might explain the past time I have picked up this year:

I got my first Nike+ sensor in 2007.  There were a few times I used it between 2007 and 2010, but they were barely blips.  And then there is this year…

Next year is looking to be more of the same since I signed up for the Kalamazoo marathon in May of 2011.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Crane Dive


Posted this to Facebook, but thought I would share it with the rest of you who might not be on Facebook! 

My Ellie crane getting ready to dive in to the box with all its friends. We have been folding one in the morning and one in the evening, making space to remember our daughter.