Thursday, June 10, 2010

June 10th

Today is June 10th, 2010.

June 10th, 2009 I woke up, got ready for work and was about to walk out the door when my cell phone rang. At 6:30 a.m. which is never a good sign. I saw that it was my sister.

"Dad had a stroke."

I could scarcely believe it. The man had just recovered from a near deadly car accident in which he broke his neck. In fact, he had ridden his bike 15 miles the day before and worked outside on their acreage. A stroke seemed damn near impossible.

But he had slipped from us before we could do anything to stop it.

June 10th, 2008. I can hardly type these words without crying. My sweet friend Gail lost her beautiful twin girls, Samantha and Caroline, born too soon. I can feel it like it was yesterday, so late into the night, sitting on my couch, where I sit right now. Gail and I talking to each other on the phone through our tears and anguish and disbelief as she laid in a hospital bed so far away and I remember going and crawling into my own bed with Mr. LC and clinging onto him and telling him she had lost those precious girls and we just held onto each other, not knowing what to do.

There was nothing we could do.

God it takes my breath away thinking of it tonight and I can only fathom what it feels like for her, the one who lived it.

We were 1700+ miles apart that night but my heart was in the room with her.

Today is June 10, 2010.

My Dad is in the hospital again--another bout with a post-stroke illness that will be typical of his days. His life is compromised severely and he has suffered more than he should. Yes, I am grateful for moments with him, for some good talks that we otherwise would have never had, but that is from my perspective. He didn't get a say in what happened to him.

Today Gail has a beautiful one year old daughter. But her first two daughters are not here and there is nothing that is right about that. Nothing.

I know everyone has pain in their lives. Everyone has grief.

And June 10th is a day, 24 hours long--no more, no less-- that will pass like any other day.

But it's important to remember.
So important to remember.


  1. LC, I'm sorry this is such a painful date for you, (and Gail). It is important to remember- as difficult as it may be. Dates are significant for so many reasons, and I think sometimes they deserve the some acknowledgement.

    Thank you for this heart wrenchingly honest post.


  2. It's amazing how so much can change in a year (or two) and yet so much can stay the same. I'm thankful that both of us still have our dads with us right now (my dad was dx about 2 weeks before your dad's stroke), even if their situations aren't exactly what we would want them to be.

    Also, I thought I had your e-mail address saved in my contacts, but apparently I don't. Would you mind e-mailing me at momto3dogs (at) yahoo (dot) com?

  3. Oh, what a hard day. I'm so sorry.

  4. I am so sorry it is such a difficult for you and those you love. I really hope your dad is ok and will be able to go home soon. Thinking of you.

  5. Kinda makes you want to hold your breath all day, doesn't it? I get what you're saying. The past few weeks have been doozies for me and I think that's how I am going to remember them forever. Those are things you can never forget. Will be thinking about your dad and Gail today. There are such funny stories about him that still crack me up and I always think of her brushing her girls' hair.

  6. These anniversaries are so hard. I hope yesterday went quickly for you. I'm so sorry about Gail's twin girls. So very sorry. I'll be thinking about you and your dad.

  7. My thoughts are with you on this difficult day!

  8. I'm so very sorry, my thoughts and prayers are with you. I hope he will be able to recover from this.

  9. I'm so sorry that June 10th is such an awful day for you. You're so right is very important to remember. Next June 10th, I hope that something really good happens to tip the balance the other way. Hugs.

  10. What makes these days so hard is that the callous world just ticks on past these anniversaries, and it can seem that momentous events such as these barely cause a ripple in time's onward flow.

    But it is thanks to wonderful people such as yourself that friends cope with their loss, and don't have to 'just forget and move on', but can grieve with support and love around them.

    We'll all be with you throughout the hard times that sadly, inevitably, will lie ahead for you, and will offer every possible support we can. My wish is simply that when the ripple in time occurs, that it's as far in the future as you want it to be, and that you are all at peace with it.

    I hope that future 10ths of June bring happy events to balance out the other anniversaries.

    Sending you best wishes as always.

  11. It's so hard, but it is indeed good to remember. I'm sure Gail appreciates that someone cares enough to remember her loss - so many people might forget - and expect she should do the same. Yours is a true friendship.

    And your dad, well, that is just plain hard to grasp how such a terrible thing could happen to someone you have described as being quite active. I just hope his recovery in the hospital is quick and that he is able to regain a decent quality of life. Thinking of you and your family...

  12. ugh

    one day it will be a good day


    thinking of your dad and of those beautiful babies

  13. I am so sorry. June 10th was my dad's birthday. He would've been 66. I hope your dad gets better soon.

  14. Thank you Ashley for this post and for thinking of me as you always do. Yesterday was indeed difficult. As one of your followers commented, so many people around us forgot what June 10 means to Bill and me, and I mean people in our family. A relative (who has twin girls) said to me today when I asked how the girls were doing, "Just be glad you don't have two." Really?Oh how I wish I got to know my baby girls so I could nonchalantly complain about their terrible two's. But in the end, the world doesn't matter, only the fact that Bill and I will always remember our girls. Ashley, thank you for being there for me that night when I was in the hospital and thank your for being here now. Love you!

  15. The remembering can be so hard, but I am always so touched at how compassionate you are.

    Your dad has had such a hard year, but at the same time he's had a whole year. It's not like there's really a bright side to life after that kind of stroke, but you've had some really good moments with him this year, and I'm glad you got the chance for them. I love your descriptions of your time with him, how much you cherish the flickers of his old self and how much you love him no matter what is happening.

    And I am so struck by the truth of Gail's comment, that the rest of the world doesn't matter. If we hold our loved ones so closely in our hearts, it's enough that we never forget them.

  16. Those significant dates are a stinger. I hope June 10th can be bolstered by days before and after that make June 10ths in the future have less of an impact. Hopefully it will be an ear-mark and not a day that the world stood still.

    As always, I am in awe of your words and strength.

  17. A day is just a day, that's what I try to tell myself. I lost my mom on June 9th, so its a bit eerie that you posted this. I try to act nonchalant every June 9th but deep in my heart I know that a terrible event makes this day stand out for me. It's been 8 years but it never goes away.

    I hope you are doing OK dealing with all of this now, and I hope you get more golden moments with your dad, regardless of his condition.

  18. Dates are wonderful when they remind us of joyful times but when the date is associated with sadness, it cuts you like a knife.
    I was sad to read that your dad is in the hospital again. I hope he is able to stay strong and recover from this. Sending hugs and love to you.