Remembering Baby Grace

Today marks two years since our daughter Grace was born still. We love and miss her everyday. The "anniversary" itself was easier this year than it was last year. Time and life changes have remarkable ways of healing one's grief.

Parts of this year were more difficult than the last though. We told Lily about Grace earlier in the year (you can read about that here). She had a difficult spring - I'm not sure I realized how much a young child could process the idea of the death of a sibling she never knew. She was not even four at the time, but she certainly grieved. Some days were more difficult than others, but she seemed stronger for knowing about it and had moved through the most of the grief by early summer. She talks about Baby Grace (as she calls her) often in mostly light contexts. She doesn't get the idea that Grace never took a breath - she asks me often if Grace liked playing with the same toys she did when she was a baby or liked the same food she did when she was a baby - and that's okay for now. She had a difficult week this past week, crying more than once about missing Baby Grace, though I didn't even tell her about the significance of today until yesterday. Interesting how she can pick up on things like that...

Sometimes it's almost hard to believe it really happened. We have few physical remembrances of Grace. A couple pictures too difficult to share online. The tiniest baby dress and knitted hat you've ever seen. This year, I really wanted to find a way to honor her memory, but struggled to find a way that seemed right. Believe me, I've seen plenty of ways some people have honored their lost babies and children, including elaborate birthday parties or "party" type gatherings at their burial places. None of those fit for me. I considered a balloon release with Lily - something I've seen families do with their living children. I told Lily about that idea one night earlier this week when she was crying, missing Baby Grace. But she told me through her tears, "No, I can't give her a balloon. All I can give her is my love."

And she's right. So, I adapted something I had seen earlier this year online (if I can find the post I'll link it here, but it escapes me right now). I made some tiny hearts. Just a few. Lily helped me pick out the fabrics for them. I sewed my love into those hearts. Then Lily kissed them all and we passed them out to a few friends and family members. We asked them to place the hearts somewhere special. With something they loved. Something Grace would have loved. Then I asked them to take a picture of the heart in their special place, send me the picture and keep the heart to remember Grace. In that way, we can have a little piece of remembrance of Grace. A visual symbol of something that was for Grace in someone else's space.

I have been beyond moved at the touching and wonderful pictures I've received. So, to honor Grace this year, I present the pictures of Grace's Hearts. Each one shares a little corner of some special someone's home. Lily has left her mark in each of these homes - with her laughter, feet running up and down the halls, sweet songs echoing through the rooms. Grace will never be able to leave her mark in that way, but now there's a piece of her there too.

(hanging in our Christmas tree - the first place Lily wanted to hang the heart, but not the last)

(on a remembrance tree that blooms in December)

(in the middle of a Christmas mantle)

(on a board of Happiness with pictures drawn by Lily)

(snuggling up with a kitty named Dotty)

(with an angel, a piece from a collection that belonged to a friend's friend, now an angel herself, who reminds us that there are angels all around us and we can see their work every day)

(with an angel and a family that has remembered and loved Grace in dear ways)

(over a dear little boy's heart - a reminder that he and his family remember Grace and hold her close to their hearts)

(at our house again, by the candle we light every year on December 10)

(and the place Lily wants the heart to permanently stay after it's done on the Christmas tree this year, on the sign with our Family Photo wall; I couldn't have picked a better place myself)

My heart is heavy today. My tears are many. But as the light from the Grace candle flickers, I look over and over these pictures and am thankful that Grace was a part of our lives, however short that part was. I'm still not quite sure that I am thankful for the perspective her loss has given me and, now, given Lily, though I am thankful for the strength we now possess. I am thankful that Grace is not forgotten.

Thank you all for remembering and loving Grace and for loving our family.