Three weeks ago, two of my uncles were irrigating a canal that runs through their property, their father's old farm up in Idaho. While they were irrigating, they saw something in the water, and to their horror, they pulled out an 18-month-old little girl who had fallen into the canal one and a half miles upstream. One week later, after fighting for her life long enough for her parents and family to say their goodbyes, that little girl left this life and returned to her Father in Heaven.
I never met little Preslee, but she was only 10 days older than our own little girl. That fact alone kept hitting me close to home; that this little girl was the same age as Sara. Just a baby. It made me put myself in their situation and think, "What if that were Sara? What if that happened to us?" Can you imagine leaving your baby with a sitter or family member to go out for a few hours, not knowing you are about to receive the phone call no parent ever wants to receive? A phone call saying the worst has happened? I just can't help but think how hard it must be to lose a child. And perhaps even harder, to lose your only child (like they did, and like we would if anything ever happened to Sara) and to go back to being.....just you. No longer a mom and a dad. No longer the parents of your own perfect little creation. I just can't imagine. Don't want to imagine.
I have been thinking about this a lot over the past three weeks. Every time I get frustrated with Sara and start to lose my cool, I think of how hard it would be to lose her. I think of how much worse it would be if she were to suddenly be gone. I think of how distraught I would feel if I didn't get to see her smiling face every day, or if I never got to hear her sing "E-I-E-I-O" again, or if the hug and kiss she gave me before going to bed tonight was the last one I'll ever get. Thinking about going through what Preslee's family is going through makes even the frustrating 'toddler throwing a tantrum' moments seem like the most important moments of my life. Moments I never want to lose or forget. Moments I don't want to ruin by raising my voice, when really all she probably needs is more attention from her mommy.
I've realized that every moment I spend with my little girl really is the most important moment of my life. I've realized that food thrown on the floor and embarrassing temper tantrums in public and a toddler who nearly refuses to take a nap do not equal the end of the world. Those moments are only part of the package. The rest of the deal includes a little girl whose face lights up when you walk into her room in the morning. A little girl who cracks you up every time she "talks" to you in unintelligible babbles, and then gives you a cheesy grin and looks at you as if you should be laughing along with the hilarious joke she just told. A little girl who would rather sit on your lap and sing "Itsy-bitsy Spider" with you than almost anything else in the world. Those moments make the frustrating moments worth it.
I love my little girl so much. I am so grateful to get to spend each and every day with her. I want to live in each moment and never forget what a blessing Sara is in our lives. I am making an effort to make each moment count, because you never know when those moments might be gone.
I love you Sara.
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You can read more about Preslee and all the lives she touched during the last week of her life right here on her parent's blog.












