Katie Lynn: year 4

Katie Lynn.

It’s four years today. We discovered last year that getting away as a family for the anniversary of your loss was a comfort for our hearts. We did it this year too, and it’s been the very best thing. When we’re away from home, I think everybody feels a little extra freedom to just be. There’s less of the daily grind that sneaks in, and more room for emotions.

This last year was a full one, and that’s an understatement. We moved again—this should be the last time for a very long time—but we’re grateful we did. The kids started at a new school, and they love it. We grew a lot as a family, I think, and it’s been fun to watch different areas of life get into a good groove. Hannah turned one, and she’s been a glue we didn’t even realize we needed. No matter what we’re navigating, she brings joy. It makes me smile so big when she climbs into Bailey’s lap, when she giggles at Jensen, or when she pats Hudson’s hair.

Bailey is becoming very reflective, and I’m so proud of her. She talks about what’s going on inside of her more often than shutting it all away, and the more she talks, the stronger and more whole she becomes. It’s amazing to watch. I feel so honored when she asks to sit and have a conversation—usually it’s while I’m making dinner and her brothers are off playing. She’ll share a particular memory with me, or ask a question, or explain a connection she’s made between a current behavior she’s working to adjust and the place where it began. Often she’s recognizing that it began as a coping mechanism or a part of living in survival mode after your loss, and she’s learning she doesn’t need to live in survival mode anymore. I’m so grateful for her, and honored to walk with her as she grows and heals. She is beautiful and tall and strong and independent, and you would be so proud of her.

Jensen looks so much like Craig did at his age. He’ll be 9 in a few days, and he’s in hardcore boy-mode these days—you know, where you have to remind him on the regular to please turn on his brain? He’s so smart, and he can have the softest, gentlest heart. I think he’s beginning to learn what it means to put in effort and work hard—that not everything comes easy when it comes to learning and growth—and it’s an adjustment for him. But I know he can do it. He’s not nearly as easy to read as Bailey is, especially when he’s struggling. I love how much he enjoys reading. He is always asking questions, and if you asked him today, I think he’d say he wants to be a race car driver when he grows up.

Hudson has grown by leaps and bounds in this last year. He’s getting tall, and slowly figuring out how to put in the focus and hard work it takes to learn and grow—that seems like a theme with the boys in this season. I feel like this has been so highlighted in the last few months as he’s beginning to learn to read and swim. His little brain is making so many connections, and the more pieces he puts together, the more he’s realizing how much is at his fingertips. I can’t tell you how much fun it is to watch him bend over a book and push through the sentences, so excited every time he figures out a new word.

This anniversary has been harder for me than I expected, to tell you the truth. Because Hannah and Hudson’s birthdays are only a few days apart, this year she is getting closer to the age he was when you died. The timing has helped me understand so much more of his experience and has grown a great deal of compassion in me for his challenging days, but it hurts like I cannot explain. I can’t imagine what it must have felt like for you to know you were leaving.

I often wish I could sit down with you over tea and tell you how everyone is doing, or pick your brain. Do you think we’re doing a good job? Are there things you would do differently? What would you do to motivate the boys when it seems like sometimes you deal with the same issues or poor choices over and over and over again? Does the prospect of Bailey as a teenager in a few years make you as nervous as it makes me?

Craig. It’s hard to put him into words some days. He is my anchor, and he always has my back, even when I am tired and grumpy. I love watching him work at a job where he is valued. He’s beginning to explore life out of survival mode after your loss. It comes out in different ways, and I love it. He is proud of our home and loves making our yard look nice. He makes time to workout (when life allows) and enjoys it. He loves to walk. He helps me with dishes and laundry, and we are a team. He reflects a lot on the family patterns he experienced in different seasons of life, processes what was and was not healthy, and is constantly evaluating what he wants to pass down to another generation. It’s hard work, but so worthwhile. I love him and need him and am so thankful for him.

A few last things. We have another baby joining us this summer, and we are excited. Craig likes to eat vegetables now (can you even believe it???!). I use your cast iron skillets all the time, and they are the best. I could keep going, but I didn’t mean to write you a novel. You’re the person I’m most excited to meet when I get to heaven someday. Thank you for trusting me with your family. Thank you for my family.