Angel Day

Friday, January 20th is Angel Day in our house. I saw this on a blog a few weeks ago and decided I had to begin using it. It has such a better connotation than their "Death Day." So from now on we will remember Emily's Angel Day on January 20th and her Birthday on July 21st. This is three years from when she passed away. Tomorrow I am having LASIK eye surgery, which I am super excited for, and then Friday is a crazy busy day, and I wanted to make sure I remembered little Emily on our blog, since I'm not sure how much I'll be up for typing/seeing the computer on Friday.

I was looking through pictures of Emily the other day and saw these that my father-in-law took. I love how he took them of her rolling; you can actually see the blur of her hands from how fast she moved!

And then over to her sister. This was a common occurance. They were always on the floor together. Lily didn't really start rolling a lot until a month after Emily passed away.

I love how Emily's hand is open and on Lily's leg. I had really never noticed this picture before.

This was also common-both out! Emily would be rolling around and then would just crash. These were all when Lily was about 3 months and Emily was four, about 2 months before she passed away.

Lily has really been missing Emily. Last week she kept saying, "Can I please go to Heaven to see Emily, Please?" Tonight in her prayer she asked that Emily could come and hug her. I like to think that Emily does! I love how Lily knows she has a big sister, though. When we had a friend over who had a big sister she was very emphatic that she has a big sister, too.

A few weeks ago she was watching a video of Emily and turned around to Lance and said, "Remember our sister Emily, Lance? Remember her?"

This year leading up to Angel Day has been a bit easier than in years past. I think having my eye surgery right before it has made it so I've also been able to think about that. And honestly, I just don't like thinking about when she died, and I try not to. If anyone wants to read about it it's back in January/February 2009 on this blog. I don't know how to post the link. But I don't want to go over it; it's too hard. I'm lucky that I have happy, positive memories I can focus on. On Monday night for Family Night we went through Emily's box, showing the kids her hearing aid, how she ate with her bottle and her gtube, her growth hormone shot, her braces, her little snuggly blanket, her first haircut, etc. It was fun to be able to show them things about their sister, and we will make that a tradition when Angel Day is near. Then on Friday we will read the poem Robby wrote when she passed away.

I looked at the guestbook that people had signed, both here in Texas and in Washington from the funerals. So many people came from so far away, and people who have since moved who have been such a part of our life. We so appreciated the love we were given and have been given since.

It's hard sometimes; I see my friends, especially those who have children with disabilities or health challenges, and I think how hard and challenging their life is, and how easy my life is. But then I remember why my life is now easy, which can hurt. And I hate the thought that maybe someday their life could be "easy," too. Because I don't want anyone else to have to go through what we have. But I know that if something does happen they can be happy and have peace and joy, because I am happy and have peace and joy! Which always amazes me. But it's not easy.

My aunt Marianne sent me an email from a talk she gave about hope, talking in part about little Emily. And at the end she said something that pretty much sums up how I feel, " I look at your beautiful little family and am amazed that you look so normal and so happy....and nobody knows the deep heartache that must grip you without warning at different times...as you miss your little girl."

I am happy, but I miss my little Emily.

Emily’s Experience on Earth

Before I was born and I still lived in Heaven,
Heavenly Father explained how life would be.
He said that it would be full of challenges and trials,
But that I would have a family who loves me.

I would have friends and loved ones who would do all that they could,
To make sure I was joyful and happy.
And when I asked him what my purpose on earth would be,
He smiled, with a tear in his eye, and simply said “You’ll see.”

My life on earth had a difficult start,
I could no longer see nor hear.
But it didn’t take long to understand,
That my parents loved me so dear.

They stayed at the hospital for the first seven weeks,
And had faith that I could breathe on my own.
And eventually the wonderful day came,
They were able to take me home.

I made so many friends along the way,
I was able to learn so many things.
And although I had my share of pain and struggles,
I felt the joy and the love that the Gospel brings.

I have a Mother, who sacrificed everything she could,
Who did her best to keep me healthy and strong.
I have a Father, who provided me safety and peace,
Who’s whistling and roaring helped me as my life moved along.

I have a Sister, who loves and cares for me,
Even though she liked to pull my hair.
Who when the time came for me to die in their arms,
Gave my parents peace with her happy stare.

I have grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins,
Who always treated me as one of their own.
I have classmates, friends, and fellow 18th Chromosome family,
Who reminded me that I’m never alone.

Through all of my challenges and obstacles overcome,
I began to realize my mission.
There would be so many people whose lives I could touch,
Even without hearing and vision.

And now I can tell them at the end of my earthly life,
That God has a plan for everyone.
That because of the sacrifice of his Son, Jesus Christ,
We can return to him in glory and perfection.

Now I can run, and see, and hear,
I can talk, and help, and serve.
I can help others know that the Gospel of Christ,
Will lead them to the happiness they deserve.

As a final request to all who know me,
As we part, at least for a while:
That when they think of Emily Hammond,
They share with me a laugh and a smile.