"Fall down seven times, stand up eight."

"Fall down seven times, stand up eight." - Japanese Proverb

I have been thinking about this statement all day. It is in the front of our novel, Touching Spirit Bear, that we started reading in class today. I wrote in on the board in red, and asked my students to write it down and then respond to it, to tell me what it meant to them in their own words. This was part of their pre-reading, but I have found that this quote has been reverberating in my mind all day long. This evening when catching up on Facebook posts, a friend had this as her status, and told me she had seen it on Twitter.

To me, this quote means that you never, ever, EVER give up. No matter how many times you get knocked down, you HAVE to get back up. Kind of like falling off of a horse... you have to get back on immediately or you never will. If you give up once, there won't be another chance. No matter how many times you fail, you keep trying. Giving up isn't an option.

And so, this quote stood out to me and made me want to write about some things, but first, I thought it would be fitting to post some verses that are related...

Romans 5:3-4 NIV Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope

James 1:3 NIV because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.

Revelation 2:3 NIV You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown weary.

The darkest night is often the bridge to the brightest tomorrow.- Jonathan Lockwood Huie

Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time. - Thomas A. Edison

Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent. - Marilyn vos Savant

Every wall is a door. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall. - Nelson Mandela


In my life, I have learned that no matter how hard you try, how hard you work, and how much you do, there will be someone there to tear you down, or to try to tear you down. The devil works in so many ways and sneaks his way in and about your lives, trying to destroy the good that God has brought us. No matter what, the devil HOPES that we don't get up that eighth time. He hopes that we treat the wall as a wall, that we never get back up when we fall down, that we don't persevere through hardships and trials in God's name. He hopes that he doesn't have to deal with us growing stronger. He wants us to give up and fail. 

Well, I'm here to say that I am absolutely NOT a quitter. I keep going. I keep trying, and I keep finding a way to make it work. I fight for what I believe in, and I stand up for what is right. I do what I feel is right each day, and I am working really hard on making good decisions and not judging someone else for theirs. The hardest part of anything for me is not taking things so personally, because I tend to internalize and take things so much to heart, even when the intent was not to hurt me or go against me. 

I have worked so hard to get to where I am in life, and I am truly proud of myself for all that I have accomplished. I couldn't be here without the support of the best family in the world and the most amazing friends a girl could have. But most of the time, I don't like to talk about ME. I like to talk about what I'm DOING, because it draws attention to the projects we have going on to support others and help others. My life isn't about me, and what I want. My life's purpose is to give to others, to do for others, and to provide things for others that they wouldn't otherwise be able to get. I want to teach, to reach out, to minister, to guide, and to support others in various situations. That is who I am. I am not selfish. I am not greedy. I am not unkind. 

The hardships that we have endured over the past three years seem small to so many people, but they really do take a toll on a person. No one should have to bury their child, but we had to three years ago. Because of that, my grandparents were in a car accident that caused my granny to need surgery. Unbeknownst to us, anesthesia speeds up the process of dementia/Alzheimer's (we didn't even know she had it), and since then, her health has rapidly deteriorated, causing her to have to move to a nursing home for care. Because of THAT, my granddaddy's health declined rapidly as well, and for a whole year, he was in and out of the hospital, sick, and no hope of a diagnosis, until this June when he was diagnosed with blastic plasmacytoid dendritic neoplasm, and now, we have to come to the grim reality that he will not be with us this time next year. 

Somethign that I learned from Granddaddy many years ago is that you always take pride in what you do and you work hard to keep a high level of effort and success in your projects. My granddaddy's pride, though sometimes frustrating, is one of his greatest traits. Though it sometimes came across the wrong way to me, he always lived what he told me and I never had to look at him and think "why does he say one thing and do another?" He has pride in his appearance, in his construction company, in his sons, in his wife, and most importantly, his grandchildren and great grandchildren. He takes pride in showing us off, in bragging on us and our accomplishments... so much pride that when he talks to us or about us, his eyes sparkle with excitement and youth, something that we don't see very often anymore. He's tired. But, he hasn't given up yet, because it is not in the nature of a Marine of the United States of America to just "give up." 

In honor of my Granddaddy, who taught me so much about living life and being a good person, I have decided that giving up is no longer an option. If he can fight through life and be stubborn (yes, stubborn. It's the number one trait of a person with the last name of Lanford. I have plenty of it myself!) and prideful, and still turn out okay from it all... well, there are some lessons to be learned from it. 

So to everyone who keeps knocking me down with your hurtful words, to everyone who knocks me down because you mock me, talk about me, and laugh at me behind my back... to everyone who tries to hurt me intentionally, to everyone who is jealous of me for some unknown (and ridiculous?) reason, to everyone who tries to lash out at me or my family members because you don't understand us or what we are going through... to everyone who tries to pass false words about me and my missions for parents who have lost... to everyone who wants to drag me down so you can feel better about yourself... 

I won't give up. I refuse. I'm stronger than that. I will keep getting back up. I will keep fighting back. I will keep being ME, and I will no longer apologize for the traits that make me who I am, even if you don't like me. 

I love my children. I love my husband. I love my family, my friends, my job, my life. I love volunteering for the March of Dimes. I love supporting the NICU at Huntsville Hospital. I love being an advocate and resource for parents who have lost a child. I love being able to share our story with others to impact them in positive ways. I love that I have the opportunity to help others every day. 

So, keep on trying to bring me down. Keep trying to make me give up. You are only motivating me to keep trying harder. You are only going to encourage me to keep putting one foot in front of the other, even if the journey is slow and difficult. 

I. Will. NOT. give. up. 

Kylie's 3 year angelversary

To my dearest Kylie Brielle,

It is so hard to believe that it has been three years since you passed. Three years since you took your last breath on Earth. Three years since I held you in my arms. Three years since my heart broke beyond all repair. Three years since I told you goodbye, even though I didn't want to.

Sweet angel, so many things have happened and changed in the course of three years. Though my grief is different now than it was 3 years ago, it still hurts so much to know that I have to wait a lifetime to see you again. It is something that I will carry with me forever, and something that will never be forgotten.

Two years ago, if someone had told me I'd be where I am right now, I probably wouldn't have believed them. At one point, I thought my pain was so deep, so raw, so consuming, that I couldn't see past the grief to see what would come out of it. All I knew was that it wasn't fair, that life without you was miserable, that I would give anything to go back and try again. I knew that I hated my life without you, and that I was angry at God for taking you away from me.

Last year, I was a hormonal emotional wreck because I was 35 weeks pregnant with your little sister. I was mourning your loss while preparing for the birth of a new life. It was a very difficult and conflicting emotional time, but one thing remained: the pain was deep, consuming, and aching. However, it was a little bit easier to get through the day. It was a little bit easier to breathe and remember you without feeling like my heart would rip out of my chest.

This year, my body, my heart, and my soul aches without you here. My heart is comforted, though, as well as my soul, because this year, I have a peace in my faith that has helped guide me through this past year of pain. It hurts just as bad today as it did then. It aches just as much as it did one year ago, two years ago. The piece of my heart that left when you died is still missing. That part of me that died with you will never come back. But this year, sweet girl, I have learned so much about you, about me, and about God. This year, I have a renewed faith and a renewed outlook. It doesn't change how much I love you and how much I miss you. I still think I'd do just about anything to have you back. I still wish life was different, that I could kiss your nose any time I wish, that I could reach out and hold you in my arms all night long. But, reality sets in, and I remember that isn't going to happen for a very, very long time.

Your life has inspired me and has changed me. You are the reason I want to help other parents. You are the reason I want to make sure that no one else has to find help when they lose a baby. You are the reason I want to do all kinds of things in your honor and memory. You are the reason I keep putting one foot in front of the other. You are the reason we have Bryleigh. You are the reason we are the Ambassador family for the March of Dimes this year. You are the reason we cherish each second we have as a family. You are the reason we love deeply, speak kindly, and share constantly.

Your LEGACY is love and hope. You are pure and innocent, and you showed such strength and courage in your brief two weeks on earth. You inspire me to be better every day, and you inspire me to keep putting one foot in front of the other, even if it seems impossible or too difficult. You have left footprints on my heart, and they will be there for eternity, even when I am long gone from this world. My hope is that your legacy continues to inspire others, to give them hope, and to offer comfort and guidance in the most difficult days a parent could face. Your life lives on through us, and I hope that we have made you proud with all that we have done and will continue to do in the future.

Today, Kylie, I am so honored and so blessed to be your mommy. I am thankful for the peace that comes in knowing you are in the arms of Jesus, and that one day, I will join you and then can raise you as I always dreamed. One day, I will get to rock you to sleep every night, and I can kiss your precious nose all day long. One day, I will be able to look in your gorgeous eyes like I did three years ago, and you will just melt my heart with your sweetness. One day, we will be a family again, all of us, and we can do the things that families do as we walk the streets of gold in eternity.

Until then, I must find some peace and comfort in telling your story, sharing your life with others. I must find hope in talking with other parents who have been chosen to join this group that we didn't sign up for. I must find inspiration and strength from you, from your life, and from your legacy. I must keep going, because I am not just a mommy of an angel, but I am a mommy to three beautiful, unique, precious girls.

Thank you for being my daughter and for showing me a love that I never knew existed. Thank you for watching over us all and for protecting us. Thank you for guiding me and inspiring me with every day that passes. There isn't a moment that goes by that you are not on my mind. Every day, I miss you. Every second, I love you. My love for you stretches far beyond any physical limitation. You will always be in my heart, and no one can tear apart the bond of mother and child, even across a distance like Heaven and Earth.

Happy 3rd angelversary, Kylie Brielle Keith. I hope that you are celebrating in the biggest of ways in Heaven. Please, sweet angel, be with me tomorrow, as well as your daddy, your Grammy and Paw Paw, your sisters, Aunt Ashley, Uncle Jon, Nick, and all our friends and family as we mourn your passing and try to get through the day. You are a very special little girl who is loved and missed by many, many people.

I love you to Heaven and back, and I miss you just as much.

With my most sincere love,

Your Mommy

Keep on keeping on...

Mrs. Ibezim, my 8th grade Science teacher, didn't teach us much about Science. Seriously. We had a folder for vocabulary, a folder for section questions, a folder for chapter questions, and a folder for end of chapter reviews. Then, we went through the book and taught ourselves and then had a test on it. However, I DID learn a lot about life. Morals. Values. Sayings to last a lifetime. (MXR peeps will remember: You need to get your ducks in a row! and... Put that in your pipe and smoke it!) Though she may have been intimidating, though she may have been unconventional, she loved her students and she taught each group that came through what agape love meant, what it meant to truly love yourself, your family, your friends, and yes, even God. She loved God with a passion, and it was okay for her to talk about it then. (Don't think anyone would have ever done anything anyway). She also taught us about respect. She sang to us. It was fun, but now looking back, it was also very important in my development before going to high school. Mrs. Ibezim probably knew what she was doing that year. I think she knew she was teaching us greater lessons that we would appreciate later on, and that we needed to hear those things to survive high school and the world beyond. I know that her life lessons have stuck with me, and they come out in the strangest situations, but always at the perfect time. For instance, as the title of this blog posts suggests, I'm just trying to: "Keep on, Keeping on."

Today I am overwhelmed with things on my plate. Between Kylie's 3rd birthday, Bryleigh's 1st birthday, October 15, and Kylie's fund, along with being a mommy, a wife, a teacher, and everything else.... I've just gotten a bit disappointed. I know people see me coming and run because they are afraid I'm going to ask them to buy another thing or participate in another fundraiser, but fundraisers are the only way to keep up with the things that mean so much to me. We are barely making ends meet ourselves, and I HATE not being able to participate in the things my friends are doing. I know people are mad at me because they think I am being selfish, that I never want to buy from them but want everyone to buy from me, but that's not it. I absolutely would help every cause possible if I had the means to do so. Unfortunately, my money situation won't allow me to even help myself. Trust me, if I could go forever without having to ask for money for the October 15 event or Kylie's birthday or the March of Dimes, I would- I would support my own things in my own way. I just don't have the means. I've put a lot of money and time in each year, and I am NOT complaining- I wouldn't have it any other way. I just wish that the funds were more readily available.

I know some people don't mean anything by it, but I get so disappointed and hurt when the SAME people over and over again refuse to support anything I do, even if it is showing up for Kylie's birthday party or coming by the Family Fun Day for the MOD. If I invite someone, it's because I think a lot of them. I don't just invite random strangers. I invite people for a few reasons- one, I think it's something you might be interested in. Two- I don't want anyone to think I was intentionally leaving them out. Three- I know that it is a cause that has affected your life as well. Four- It is important to me and I want to share it with people who are important to me. I just wish that I knew that those people WANTED to support me, because people think that it's about donating $20s and $50s and $100s... when the big thing is to help spread the word, pass along the info, support us in our endeavors, and if you can scrounge up $2 in pennies, I'm all for it! $2 more than we had to begin with...

So in closing, I guess I'm just saying that I do need lots of support. Financial, emotional, everything. Every tiny little bit helps. Every bit.

What infant loss does to a mother...

Today started off with tears and memories, and so the whole day, those things have been at the forefront of my thoughts. And when those things are in the front of my mind instead of that whisper in the back, it affects how I think and feel about everything else. So, sometimes, I find  myself wondering if I'll ever be the same person I was before... if my grieving heart makes me harder to love, harder to befriend, harder to like. Like maybe being a bereaved mother makes me some kind of weird contagion, or some kind of walking plague. I often feel that way- and it's because I refuse to NOT talk about Kylie. I refuse to let people think I only have Jaycee and Bryleigh as my children. I refuse to keep her tucked away and out of conversations and situations.

Baby loss is a taboo subject. It really is. People do not want to think that baby loss really happens. If you hear about it, then you have to accept it, right? Well, no matter what you want to think, believe, or feel, every single day, a mother says goodbye to her baby. Every single day, a father comforts his wife as she kisses her baby for the last time. Every single day, a brother or a sister has to let go of their dreams of what it will be like to have another baby in the house. Every single day, grandparents lose a grandchild. Every single day, a baby in the world takes his or her last breath.

This is reality. Just concerning NEC, the condition that Kylie had, over 10,000 babies die per year because of it. 10,000 babies. That averages to just over 27 deaths PER DAY. That is so heartbreaking, because so many babies die every day from OTHER causes, so you can only imagine where the number can go.

So many people think that what they say is helpful or heartfelt or sincere, and it may very well be said with the most innocent and sweetest of intentions, but that doesn't mean it is the RIGHT thing to say (or do). Here is a list of things NOT to say to a bereaved mother, no matter HOW many years it has been:

1.) You are young, and can have more children...
2.) Don't you think it's time to move on?
3.) She/he wouldn't want you to dwell on it your entire life. Your child would want you to be happy...
4.) Well, at least you know you can have kids...
5.) Are you STILL crying over it?
6.) You need to control your emotions.
7.) God doesn't make mistakes.
8.) There's a reason for everything.
9.) You wouldn't want her to suffer in life anyway...
10.) Aren't you glad you don't have to deal with this when she was older?
11.) I don't understand why you're still so upset.
12.) I'm sorry. I know how you feel. I lost my: pet/uncle/grandma/dad/brother/neighbor/etc...
13.) "It" isn't suffering anymore (resorting to "it" instead of her/him, etc)

I could go on and on. And yes, I've heard many of those things. But let me tell you... just as you never forget your loved ones who have passed on before you, such as a grandparent, a parent, a friend, an uncle, an aunt,  a sibling... we never forget our babies. The loss is with us for eternity. The loss goes with us wherever and whenever we do anything. The loss is there and an empty space is always in our heart... every family gathering. Every family photo. Every birthday, every angelversary. Every holiday. Every dinner. It's always there.

The loss changes and alters who you are, because you cannot ever be the same as you were. Grieving changes you, but specifically, losing a child takes something out of you that you didn't ever expect to let go of. It takes a piece of your heart and soul... and that piece will never be replaced, healed, repaired, or mended. It will be gone forever, just as the life that you created will be. Reality is so difficult sometimes, because it is more painful than pretending that things will be okay one day...

Be kind to the grieving mother. Be there for her, but don't force her to move on. Be a shoulder to lean on, pat her back, and offer support, but don't make her feel she is wrong for how she feels, acts, or responds. A grieving mother has a lot to go through already, and really can't be made to feel "guilty" and "bad" for missing her child.

All for her...

I have not cried like this in a very, very long time. I have not had uncontrollable sobs in months. But today, in a house that is quiet while the kids sleep and the husband is at work, and after my first week back to teaching and all the events of the week... all of the pain, the hurt, and the brokenness has found me once more.

Twice this week, TWICE in one week, we were told in two different ways by two different people that they talked with or saw someone who received one of our memory boxes at the hospital. How ironic, don't you think? Twice in one week.

The first message touched my heart so deeply. It was so unexpected, and yet, it was like Kylie was standing there beside me, and that she was in a way, trying to hold my hand to tell me that we ARE making a difference. The words that my "little sister" used to describe the situation took my breath away... that box in that woman's arms will be her most priceless physical possession, I am sure, just like mine is. But then the thought also slammed me... that I HATE the fact that there is still a need for the boxes, that I am so glad we can help provide these boxes, but broken in pieces that families still have to walk out of the hospital with a box instead of their little miracles.

The second message came from my mom last night. Jennifer told her about a family that had lost a baby, and they had told her about the box they received, and in turn Jennifer told her about us and what we have done with the boxes and for parents concerning bereavement groups and such. And when I sat in my mom's living room and she told me last night, it took everything I had to hold back the tears, because again, Kylie is living through these boxes, through me, and through all that we do for others, and I was taken aback at the impact that I just now realized she had.

And with these two instances, I am reminded of that day... the day that I had cried so much I didn't know if I could ever cry again... a day that made me numb and that changed me forever. A day that no parent ever would want to, or should, have to experience. That day, I held my daughter in my arms and watched her slip away to be with our Lord... the day my heart broke beyond healing.

I remember the box being placed in my arms when we left, and being wheeled out of the hospital with a box in my lap, while my daughter was being placed in a beautiful basket, and was taken away from the hospital in a hearse from the funeral home. I remember the searing pain, the desire to be anywhere but in that situation, to turn back time, to fix whatever happened... I remember the agony inside my body as my heart, mind, and soul were at war with each other.

I remember getting home and opening the box, and going through each item as tears poured down my face, wondering why God would ever put me in this position, why He would take away a child who was loved more than any words could ever say, and why He was punishing me by taking her away.

I remember the next night, while sharing her box with some family, reaching in the bottom and finding a little baggie that I didn't realize was in there, and at that moment, losing all self-control, because I had a physical piece of my child that I didn't know I had... a baggie with the tiniest locks of beautiful, perfect brown hair, that Miss Carolyn had taken from the back of her neck and saved for me... and at that moment, the importance of the box became ten times more than I thought, because this box held the last physical piece of my daughter... my only true physical connection. That hair was on her beautiful, round head... that hair was created by me, her daddy, and God. Her hair was proof that she did exist, that she did live, that she was ours.

And then today, her box is still my most priceless physical possession. If anything were to happen to it, I don't know what I would do. And that is why we continue to make boxes for the hospital. This box means so much to me, and I know the comfort and feelings these boxes give to other families. In the end, Kylie lives through these boxes, in giving back to others. Her legacy, her memory, is still alive and strong, and in giving to others, they get a piece of her spirit.

So, that is why we do it. We do it because we know how important these boxes are to families, because we are a recipient of one ourselves. We do it because Kylie would want us to keep on helping others. My life's mission, in her memory, is to help parents who have suffered a loss of a baby through infant loss, pregnancy loss, etc.

This week, Kylie showed me, through two special instances, that she is proud of us and what we are doing in her memory. She reminded me that it doesn't go unnoticed, and that it means more than we remember sometimes.

Thank you, sweet angel, for being mine. Thank you for showing me your kind heart and loving spirit in everything that we do. Thank you for reminding me to keep going, even if it is hard, and thank you for showing yourself to me when I need it most. You are truly a beautiful child, and I could not be more proud to be your mommy. God definitely broke the mold when He made you, and there will never be another YOU ever, ever again. You are perfection, as are my other girls, and I am forever BLESSED because I carried you within my womb, birthed you, loved you on Earth for two weeks, and love you across Heaven and Earth for eternity. You are my own special guardian angel, and for that, I am grateful. I love you more than I could ever tell you, and I miss you just as much. <3 are="are" being="being" brielle="brielle" for="for" girl.="girl." keith="keith" kylie="kylie" little="little" mine.="mine." nbsp="nbsp" one="one" p="p" special="special" thank="thank" very="very" you="you">

Our big girl!

It is so hard to believe that 4 1/2 years ago, God blessed us beyond measure by bringing Jaycee into our home and our lives. At 8 months old, Jaycee was the cutest, pudgiest, sweetest little girl we had ever met. What was intended to be just a few weeks' stay became the most wonderful 4 1/2 years I could ever imagine. Jaycee Elisabeth stole our hearts the minute she came into our home, and we are so grateful for the opportunity to have her in our lives. With Kindergarten fast approaching, I have been reflecting on her sweet little life, and how blessed we are to have her as a part of our family.

In 4 1/2  years, we have held 5 birthday parties, 4 Christmases, 4 Thanksgivings, 4 Easters, 4 Halloweens, 4 Independence Days... We've had 2 full years of dance, 4 years of daycare, a preschool graduation, 2 dance recitals, and more love and happiness than we ever imagined. We have experienced the birth of two beautiful, perfect daughters to add to the family, and we have had our share of struggles and problems. We have moved once, to a new, bigger home. We have lost our first born, and we have buried my "first" baby, my precious Murphy. We have experienced money struggles, grief struggles, and life struggles. We have gone through family changes with family members in and out of hospitals, life-altering diseases and conditions, and multiple surgeries. We have seen weddings, and births of many precious babies in our family and circle of friends.

In the first few months that we had Jaycee in our home, I finally learned what it was like to love someone with a mother's love. I knew that I would give my life for her the minute I met her. In many ways, we needed Jaycee just as much as she needed us. She came to us when we were hopeless, lost, and broken- we were so broken from failed fertility treatments and the inability to become pregnant. When we received the blessing of Jaycee coming to our home, she gave us hope, laughter, love. I can't even begin to tell you how much her life brought me joy.

Jaycee's first birthday was a 1st birthday princess party- and we were blessed to celebrate with family and friends who had fallen in love with her just as much as we had. Her second birthday was a Disney Princess party, and her third birthday was a Mickey Mouse Clubhouse party- and each year, we were overwhelmed with joy as we realized just how special she had become to everyone around us. No one cared that she wasn't "blood" related- Jaycee was a part of us, and a part of them. Her fourth birthday party was Tinkerbell themed at Jump Zone, and this past year, we had a carnival in our own backyard. Looking at the pictures from each party makes me speechless- I am just overwhelmed with pride and happiness as I see how much this little girl has changed me and everyone who meets her.

Jaycee has always been a happy, smiling little girl- she is one of the most loving children I have ever met. She will hug just about anyone, even if she doesn't know you. She hugs waitresses at restaurants, family members she meets for the first time, and other kids her age that she meets at dance class, playgrounds, etc. She wants to love everyone, and it just melts my heart with pride to see how she always wants to love on everyone.

And oh, she makes the cutest little "model" for Halloween! She has been a pumpkin, a witch, Tinkerbell, and Hannah Montana! This year, she asked to be all 4 of those again, so we're having a bit of a time getting her to change her mind. =)

And recently, my heart has been warmed to listen and talk with Jaycee about the love of God. We listen to WAY FM in the car, and one of my favorite things to do is sing some of our favorite songs together. There is nothing in this world more innocent, pure, and special than a 5 year old singing "My hope is... in you Lord..." or "All I know is I'm not home yet, this is not where I belong..." - melts me into a puddle of Mommy happiness. And she tells me: "Jesus died for us so we can all go to Heaven" and my favorite is "God lives in our hearts. All the time. And we live in God's heart." This child has a pure love for God that inspires me, awes me, and brings me to my knees. It is such a beautiful relationship, and I am so excited to watch her grow in her love for Christ and mature into a strong Christian young woman one day!

So many people say that they commend us for loving Jaycee and for treating her as our own child for all this time. I tell them thank you, but they really don't understand that it wasn't even a choice- she is such a special little girl, and our lives are better because of her. I really see it as we are the lucky ones- she is a joy to have in our home and family, and we couldn't imagine where we would be if we didn't have her here. When we lost Kylie, I got up every day for Jaycee. She kept me going. If we had not had Jaycee in our lives, I know my life and the way I dealt with Kylie's loss would be completely different, and it could have ruined me. Jaycee was the first person to give me an even greater purpose in this world- she showed me what being a mother is about, and she showed me that blood doesn't mean anything when it comes to family.

I remember holding her in my arms, cradling her while she held her bottle... and I remember thinking that I never wanted that moment to end. Even now, as big as she is, I sometimes have the urge to hold her close, and I can almost imagine her as that sweet, chunky little baby girl with the cutest dimples in her smile, and my heart just leaps with love and overwhelming emotions.

And now, at 5 years old, she is witty, intelligent, kind, loving, clumsy, silly, goofy, sweet, stubborn, hard-headed, strong-willed, confident, cautious, precious, amazing... I mean, i could really go on all night. She has become such a big girl, and I wonder where all that time went. Where did my sweet baby girl go? Really, she's still there, just buried deep with in. Over this summer, I really feel we have gotten closer in our relationship with the time we have spent together- and it just makes my day for her to run to me and tell me how much she missed me while I was away. I know I may baby her some, but kids don't stay little forever, and by golly, I will spoil her and love her every moment of every day if I can! =)

I know it rambled, but it's so hard to organize your thoughts when you are fighting off tears that you have a sweet girl going to Kindergarten!!!!!!!! It just doesn't seem fair!

Spoiled rotten and pure love

Hello. My name is Amber. You know a lot of things about me, but something some people don't know is that I am the very first (yes, making me the oldest) grandchild on my daddy's side of the family. My grandparents had three boys, and I am the first of only three grandchildren. So needless to say, I am 28 years old and have been spoiled rotten since the moment I entered this world. AND, I wouldn't have it any other way =)

With the difficulties my family is going through right now, the past few days have been full of quiet, reflective thoughts on my life as a grandchild of Frank and Betty Lanford. I have been so blessed to call these two amazing people my grandparents, and they have impacted my life in so many ways. My relationship with my grandparents has always been special, and the love I have for them could never be put into words. Words just can't do justice to what they mean to me.

My granny is the sweetest little lady you could ever meet. She has always been short, and she would often tell us that the reason she was so short was because everytime she tried to grow, her older siblings would knock her down into the ground an inch to keep her short. =) She is particular about her clothes (Alfred Dunner is almost all she would wear), and her favorite perfume is called Beautiful (yes, at the beauty counter in the department stores). She was always done up with make-up, had a perm, and went to the beauty shop once a week. Granny always called us "hun" and "darlin", and she rarely ever said a cross word about or to anyone. But, if she was really upset or offended, she would often speak her mind, and it always made me giggle when a bad word came out of her mouth.

My granddaddy seems tough on the outside, but he has such a soft heart for his grandchildren and great grandchildren. Granddaddy was a Marine, and he is a very, very prideful man. He takes pride in dressing well- he says it says a lot about a person. I've only seen him in jeans maybe 5 times in my whole life. Granddaddy is stubborn, too. Pride can do that to a person. =) He walked around on a broken foot for 6 weeks before agreeing to go to the doctor. He used to avoid the doctor, because He was a MARINE, and he didn't need a doctor. =) I often saw and heard him speak harshly to others, but it has been only once or twice that he spoke harshly with me. But, something that I always, always notice about him is that he is a gentleman. He holds doors, and he stands up to greet or say goodbye.

When I was little, I had a baby sitter. Often, Granddaddy would pick me up early from the babysitter and he would take me places. We often went to the Depot, to the park, to a store, or back to "the office." My favorite was when he or Granny would take me back to the office or to their house. I spent many, many days  and hours with my grandparents. Now that I am older, my mom told me that at first, my granddaddy was NOT happy about having a grandchild; he didn't think he was old enough to be a grandpa. Then, he got mad when he found out I was not going to be a boy. But, my parents told me when I was born, I couldn't be more perfect in his eyes. And when my sister came along, he was the same about her, and of course, the same also when my cousin Brad came along 11 years after me.

I remember going to the construction company (my granddaddy's company- he started it at home and then moved to his own office when my dad was little. His father built houses, as well) many times. Daddy, Uncle Mark, Uncle Frank, Granddaddy, Granny, and even my mom worked there when I was little. Granny was the secretary, and I loved sitting in her lap and helping her open envelopes, write messages, and eating crackers with thousand island dressing. Her bottom desk drawer was full of nail polish: every red and pink color you could ever imagine, all in one place. She would paint my fingernails and toenails every time I asked, and would often touch up her own. I have always been jealous and in awe of my Granny's fingernails- they are always (even now!) perfectly manicured, and long, beautiful, strong nails... and for as long as I could remember, her nails were always perfectly painted.

Granddaddy would let me help him make copies on the copy machine, write on the marker boards (I was destined to be a teacher even then!), and play "store" in the supply cabinets using the calculators. Sissy and I would pull out this old metal stool with rubber grips, and we would use it as a desk to play school. I even had my very own little pillow that I kept under my mom's desk, and I would sleep there.

On the weekends, or just any time we went to Granny and Granddaddy's, we were treated like royalty. They had a small sitting room that we called the antique room. The furniture was old and "royal"- velvet red cushions, decorated lamps, and a beautiful tea set that sat out all the time. Granny was never afraid of us breaking her tea set, and let us play with it all the time. Then, she would open up her drawers and drawers full of jewelry, and we would try on her rings, necklaces, and earrings- lucky for us, most of her earrings were clip on- and we would walk around in her high heels. Granddaddy would cook filet mignon every Saturday night, on this awesome grill built right into their stove, and would always prepare baked potatoes and salad and BBQ bread (the kind with seasame seeds on top!), and then after dinner, Granny would pop us popcorn ON THE STOVE (I know, right!), and let us stay up and watch movies.

All of these things will be forever engrained in my memories and my heart, because they helped mold me to who I am. This strong family relationship encouraged me throughout my life, and it has become the inspiration for much of what I do. Every Christmas lunch was spent at Granny and Granddaddy's house. Every Halloween, we made the trip into town, grabbed KFC for dinner, and then took it to their house. Granddaddy had so much pride and joy taking us trick-or-treating in the neighborhood that he has lived in for so long, where we often knocked on the same doors, rang the same bells, and trick-or-treated at the same houses that our dad and uncles had visited as children.

And let me tell you- there was nothing too good for their grandchildren! Granny IS a shop-a-holic (Now you know where I get it from!), and if you went shopping with her, she would buy anything you even touched- not to spoil us, but because she genuinely wanted to get it for us and make us happy. That was one of the major ways she showed you how much she loved you. Granddaddy and Granny both would often pull out cash before we left their house; $20 here, $20 there- because they just wanted to. AND, they wouldn't take no for an answer. We even went on beach family vacations together, and they supported everything we did in school- every graduation, every special event, dance recital, everything. They were there and supporting us.

I guess I'm writing this because I am afraid when the time comes for me to have to write something, I am afraid my emotions will be so insane, and my heart and soul will be hurting so much that I won't have the ability to write these things. The reality of losing them is becoming harder and harder to handle, and I have spent much of the past few days literally in tears because I am not ready to lose them. I know that being in your 80s is a good, ripe age. I know that being 28, almost 29 years old is an amazing feat to still have three of my four grandparents AND a great-grandmother who will be 103 in October. However, no one is ever truly ready to say goodbye to those that they love. There is nothing that can prepare me for losing my precious grandparents. NOTHING. And yet, the reality is, it will probably be much sooner than I ever cared for it to be. Treatments are hard on Granddaddy right now, and Granny's situation will not ever improve. She deteriorates more each day. So I guess this is my way of trying to make sense of it all. I know God's timing cannot be questioned. He already granted me my prayers for my Granny to meet and hold Bryleigh, and so I can't be selfish. I can't wish for them to stay here forever just because I am  not ready yet. It wouldn't be fair for them, and it wouldn't be fair to anyone else.

So please forgive my momentary lapse down memory lane. I am trying to savor each memory, each moment. Each hug, each kiss. Every holiday, every single vacation, every single dinner or lunch out. Every moment of my life has been transformed by the love of my grandparents. I live to make my family proud of me, and to be an adult and see things differently... God, I am so lucky!

And now as a mom myself, I have seen my grandparents experience a new joy of being great-grandparents. They are truly head-over-heels in love with these babies, and my heart melts to see that this must be how they feel/felt about me, my sister, and my cousin when we were born. They are just so different when the kids are around; Granny smiles and seems more herself, Granddaddy is chipper and laughs a lot.

So tonight, I won't pray for a miracle. I won't pray for more time. I won't pray for a cure for any of these things, because quite honestly, I know there's not enough time. However, I will pray that each moment with them is special and full of love and closeness. I will pray that Granny and Granddaddy will have peace and joy in their time here on this earth. I will pray that God grants us the wisdom to make educated and good decisions concerning their care and health. I will pray that God helps guide me through these emotions and feelings. I won't be bitter this time, because God knows what He is doing, and though I may not like it, I know that it is His plan. I know that there will be one tiny, special little girl waiting to greet her great-grandparents at the gates of Heaven though, and I know that I will have a whole lot of spoiling to UN-DO when I arrive to Heaven myself. So please keep my family in your prayers, and please hold your loved ones close- you never know when you won't get to do it again.