This weekend we went to Family Camp with our church. Two years less one week ago we went to Family Camp with our church family as well. It was there that we first noticed Eva's laboured breathing. It was from there that we went to ER and were admitted to our local hospital. It was from there that Little J went to respite care for a couple of days (she did not come home to us until thanksgiving 2011, 2 months after Eva died).
Family Camp feels like the beginning of the end...even though the dates are different this year...We left Family Camp and did not come home until August 3rd 2011. 11 days later, Eva would be dead.
Family Camp is the beginning of summer. The beginning of the season of pain. Family Camp...where my whole family will never be again...
Altogether, last year was the ultimate worst Family Camp ever. No Eva. Not pregnant, and wishing I was. Bereft and empty. Lonely in the ultimate sense of the word.
This year Family Camp was exponentially better. With Nathan. With Samuel. With Vincent. With Theodore. With Little J. With my Mike. With Eva in our hearts, always (love you so much sweet girl).