What a difference one year can make in life

What a difference one year can make in life.

Change is something we can always count on as each day passes. Whether we want
things to change or not it is going to happen.

Over a year ago,  I wrote a blog about my past  Easter celebrations with Meghann and
what they meant to me. Little did I know that it would be my last Easter or holiday with
my little girl. Meghann passed away after five weeks in the hospital at the age of 30.

My Easter days, holidays, and days with Meghann have ended.
I am left with only my memories.

Late at night before I go to sleep I try to close my eyes and replay my memories
of Meghann as if it was a movie. Sometimes the memories of the five weeks in
the hospital creep into my thoughts, and my sadness grows with the unbearable
reality that she is gone. Most of the time, I try to push those thoughts out of my
mind to allow the beautiful memories to crawl in to my head. It is then that I can
appreciate the time we had together and rest peacefully for the night.  When I
think of all the people that were touched by Meghann’s love I feel grateful to
know that she was open to everyone she met and showered them with
unconditional love.

These memories help me to recall how happy Meghann was when she woke up on
our last Easter together. I can envision her with the biggest smile sitting in front of
her basket from the Easter bunny. Although she grew into adulthood her developmental
age allowed her to enjoy with endless excitement the anticipation for what the Easter
bunny left her each year. On Easter morning she would go directly to her puzzle table
knowing that there would be a basket and most likely some new jigsaw puzzles.

For anyone who knew Meghann knew that she loved her puzzles.  I might
even say that she was obsessed with puzzles. Over the years, I had a difficult
time finding puzzles that she didn’t already have until the internet made shopping
for anything possible.

I can still hear Meghann when she received a puzzle as a gift. She had no filter
if she already had that puzzle in her stack. With all of the differing abilities that
Meghann was diagnosed with the one thing she did have was the uncanny ability
to recognize and remember which puzzles she had stacked in her room, on her

table, in the closet, and in the living room.
Meghann would say “Uh-oh.” and point to one of her piles.
She knew what puzzles she had and when

she got a ditto. It was an unbelievable gift that always
amazed me every time.

Memories- They can be happy, unhappy, traumatic, or healing. I am going to
continue to try and choose to keep my happy memories tucked in my heart.  
When I feel the sadness of those difficult five weeks in the hospital working their
way to the surface I am going to reach in for those comforting memories of my
girl and our time together.