Archive for the ‘Special Days’ Category

On this Day

Monday, October 15th, 2018

It’s October 15th.

I think blogging on this subject may help me not feel as sad as I might otherwise.

Today is National Infant Loss Awareness day. I’m happy that there’s a day where people everywhere can feel free to talk about the pain that lingers with them over losing a child in miscarriage and still birth. Since miscarriage is statistically one in four, truly every family has this as part of their story. My loss was 11 years ago. Waking this morning I of course remembered the emotional devastation that brisk sunny morning of August 15th 2007, but too I thought of what she’s missed. The baby, I somehow felt that that 7 to 10 week gestation Little One was a girl, would be in 6th grade. She’d be starting puberty, have a best friend and a favorite book series. Maybe she’d be in fast pitch, perhaps volleyball or soccer. The doctor said that losing her wasn’t my fault, that there was nothing I could have done. The amniotic fluid just wasn’t there, the sac had collapsed, there wasn’t a heartbeat anymore and I had two options. I could have a DNC or, “let the fetus pass naturally.” I said I’d go for the second option, I have to admit that I think I felt that way I’d have more time with my baby…I know that’s weird. When the baby did come, two days later, I was alone. I had three contractions, and there was the baby in my hand…so small. I rinsed him or her off and tried to see features but she or he was just too early to make out any details. Perfect though, somehow. I’m glad now to be alone in this moment as my thoughts develop only split seconds before they come out in such familiar form on the dashboard on my blog screen. I’ve sat here so many times. With each long in knowing the taste of my tears over this loss by the day longer ago. I know my heart and am not ashamed of the lingering sadness, indeed, it’s a boost in my desire for eternity where that collapsed amniotic sac doesn’t matter.

She’ll know me, and it will be as if we missed no time together. My baby did not have to experience any of the struggles that her sisters and brothers will go through. Not an argument or feelings of animosity in any form. She or he did not have the opportunity to disobey us or own a pet, or have chores around the house…I miss that, even though it never was. My baby was real, even though she died before she could live.

I miss you, baby, and will see you soon.

The Final Race

Thursday, August 23rd, 2018

On Death and Dying.

This is unedited

Is dying the gateway to death, or death first and then dying the afterthought..sort of the sadness that is the residual dregs for those left behind to swallow by accident or leave at the bottom of the glass that is now quite half empty. I suppose that the answer is just as allusive as trying to answer what love is, since each case is a beautiful dance of it’s own orchestration, much like the intricate detail in a snowflake’s design…each so similar from a distance yet so unique and impossible to replicate in every measure.

Today was a day in a day, just like any other but so special and unique.
My son returned from a long stay in California to visit my grandma and be with my family. The reunion was joyous of course. While he was gone I came to the solid realization that my heart was not breaking that I was not there, rather, I was there through him, he was living moments for me in a way that I could truly taking in all the precious memories that I took in as a child in my grandma’s house in which so many things have remain unchanged. I know the smells of and serene feeling of sitting out on her deck as the fog rolls in off the bay and all the little details to be experienced in no other home than hers. Through Deed’s, my sweet son, I felt the joy of seeing (though his eyes) my cousin who I hardly know marry. I didn’t miss a thing, because Diederick was there. This is something that I needn’t tell anyone of, it’s mine just to wonder over. It’s a special power that I previously really didn’t realize. It’s a selfishness that truly is beautiful and mighty.

As I die one day, I will not fear that I will miss out. The reason for this is as clear as anything unexperienced could possibly be. As true as any promise that could come from a faultless friend. I live because I have had the opportunity to embrace the most powerful and meaningful essence that ever there was or ever there could be. It’s love. Life is in death. The clarity of this that life is a race, a race not for perfection, but one lived so true and so without opportunity to take back that it is a thrill even in the still moments. It’s an honor, and a privilege, but then too…

The final race is that unto death, because it was for that where there is final quiet.

I know where I want to be buried. Perhaps I’ve always known.

In the cemetery by the small church where I was married. I don’t care that my love might leave me before my life does. I want to be buried there because of the happiness that brought me there. True, pure and simple. What a beautiful day it was. The breeze was perfect, the sun was not blinding, nor the shadows too deep as often they can be. My inexpensive vail, my over sprayed too spirally hair looked lovely and felt incredibly timeless. We were a bubble of bliss: me and my dress, my flowers against the smile that motivates and radiates my world. His smile was of pride, in the best of ways, he admired me and I could see desired me in the beautiful way that two people can want each other when they are yet unfamiliar and have not yet knit the fabric that will either pull them apart or draw then together in the way that everyone wants but so few really obtain. I confess now, as I did then, that I picked that church for a handful of reasons, one of those was that I knew that I would not have many guests. Another was that it was a place that I had enjoyed as a child. Another that the simplicity of it was quite to my liking. It was a place that you would only find if lost or looking for it.

My metaphorical race in life is reaching an important benchmark: 13 years of marriage. The joys, the sarcasms, the comments that cut like little tiny slivers, the itty lies that don’t matter: it’s the love that makes the coffee in the morning, the bonds that make the days long and the years fleeting as we watch our children grow. It’s the lines in our faces, the jokes that we share. It’s the together forever, as long as forever lasts.

Every couple’s forever is it’s own length. At that I do, wherever it is said, is the beginning that covers up some other ending.

I want my death to be like my wedding. Something you’d miss if you weren’t looking for it. Meaningful to me, deep and true just like the day that I said I do.

For me it is is a divide, in perspective, the desire I mean…

As to whether I should like to be there for them, through every hardship and happiness in the flesh or if I’d like to go first so that I couldn’t feel the fear of losing this. While I write these lines though, I feel a peace, seeing through my words that either way I need not fear because they are an extension of me. I will feel through them, anything and everything that I am meant to feel.

We are born to die. Each his or her separate and special way designed my the master and maker. It is for Him to decide when and where each of us no longer will be in the game, where our race folds for the next journey to bloom and unfold. As it was he would formed and designed, it is for him to be present for the last breath.

1Co 9:26
I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air:
unchecked, But I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection: lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway.

May: When everything got rolling

Wednesday, May 30th, 2018

May 2005. The day my dress arrived.

Matthew 6:32 Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself.

As I age some memories get fuzzy. My timeline becomes bemuddled, marking time based on around the relative time frame of important events in my life such as the births of my kids, the year I graduated, and of course when I got married. I think to a degree everyone does this, but knowing my tendency to drop memories or accidentally falsify them is what drives me to come here regularly, which brings me to today’s post. I want to remember May 2005.

So quickly Darren and I have aged together, just as we planned. Perhaps it was him reaching 50 that really struck me with the sentiments of “Wow!! Look at us now!!” He’s always saying, “God brought us together.” I don’t know why I don’t think this is the most romantic thing ever, I should, but I feel that it strips us of all conscious choice or attraction, much like when someone runs a marathon or beats cancer and gives no credit to the intense training or experience of the physicians. Yes, a million times yes, God orchestrated our union. He also knows the day of our death, and even goes so far as to say that the wicked are created for the day of judgement (Proverbs 16:4). He knows the choices you will make, reader, and the choices I will make, but still we have to answer for those decisions one day at the judgement seat (John 12:38).

Sorry but not sorry that I’m so full of scripture proofs, I do know that people don’t talk this way in reality…but then again, you’ve chosen to step into my mind and these are the thoughts in my head today.

May 2018


It was the last week of April that I said yes to the man that I plan on seeing every day of my life. I struggled a little bit over if I was in love with being loved or if my heart was really ready to lock the rest of my earthly life to this man for the best reasons of heart and mind equally. It’s a moment of confusion that I even now can’t write out in a way that flows nicely.

After I said yes, church leadership told me that if I broke off the agreement I’d be as bad as someone who is divorced, and that was worthy of being thrown out of the church which was everything to me. While that’s not based on scripture whatsoever and we did get excommunicated anyway, it was a misconstrusion of biblical principles that at the time worked to our benefit. We are still the same people, just with less superstition. Frankly, I’m glad we have the shared experiences that we did in that church.

May 2005 I ordered and received my wedding dress. I lined up a photographer, ordered my flowers and cake, we bought the rings and recruited my sisters to stand as bridesmaids, ordered invitations, booked the small chapel and invited the handful of guests we could imagine and set the date. By September we were married. The weather was perfect, everyone was smiling and the simplicity of the entire day was so us. May was all a blur and I’m so happy to have recorded the details here. Simply scroll way down in my archives if you’d like to look through that. It’s cataloged away, ready for me to revisit anytime I like. The entire thing was so simple that I can pull it up in my mind, despite my patchy memory and have a pretty good sketch.

2005

Another day ever fixed in my mind was the day that I met Darren. I cringe a little in embarrassment over what a hot mess I was, another story for another day. Headline: we had to be introduced. Subtitle: I walked right past him. Body of the writing: I knew him by his voice. My hair was really curly then and required at least 30 minutes of attention in the morning to look decent, time that I hadn’t had that morning. Maybe it was important that Darren saw me looking my messiest and still liked me. I remember he was wearing a leather jacket and had white sneakers and the biggest smile.

wedding day!

These years later we’re still the same people we were that day. We’ve grown together and developed connections beyond religion. We were in the right place at the right time. That first night in a yahoo chat room, and the conference room in an apartment complex where our church used to meet.

My heart is at peace when I get even a fragment of the smile he had for me then. I feel eternally blessed that I’m still here with the daily opportunity to say or do something to bring out happiness in him.

We don’t live each day as our last. We live for the day, and know that God will take care of the rest. We try to teach our kids the same thing–take responsibility, accept consequences and learn from your successes and faults to be a better person for tomorrow and for the people you’ll meet. Love others, but first love the Lord and respect yourself. These are the messages to live by, that I hope will stay with us for generations to come.

Carly Annalise Taryn: 10 Years Old

Tuesday, May 29th, 2018

My daughter is 120 months old today.

I truly can hardly express what a delight she is and how blessed I feel to be her mother.

A close attempt is to show Then and Now photos, mainly pulling of course from old blog posts!

Diederick and Carly. Rarely in photos present day, because in part because they’re not in school together. Koen and Diederick play together more so than Carly and Diederick, perhaps due to varied interests. While that’s true, the two of them have gone through similar experiences as they’re growing up, for example, Carly homeschooled last year and Deeder’s doing it this year. Although both of them appear to have become better students through being at home, neither will remain in the situation of home based learning because the element of social isolation is very real and just not beneficiary to either one of them. Siblings and friends are good but not enterchangable, so while we are in a good school district we plan to have the kids pursue education with their peers.

Carly can most often be found either reading in her room, playing on her phone or outdoors with the neighbor girl exploring in the woods. In fair weather, she’s to be found outdoors coloring with sidewalk chalk or cruising the neighborhood on scooters with friends.
Carly also adores her little hamster Oreo. He joined our family last summer and under Carly’s attentive eye is doing quite well.

The little girl sleeping so peacefully in this swing just hasn’t stopped telling me exactly what she thinks about everything, even before she could speak actually–pushing away what she didn’t want and grabbing for items that captured her fancy even before offered. She gives me more than honest answers to what she thinks of my outfits and haircuts. Everyone needs a child like her–outspoken, opinionated and enthusiastic. She’s asked if she may do some guest posts here on Oraeley.com to which I’ve agreed, so that may be an upcoming event. Of course if she does get in some writing, younger brother Koen will want to follow in her footsteps as he is determined to try and exceed whatever she puts her hand to.

Happy birthday, Carly Annalise Taryn. Mommy and Daddy love you! We’ll always be here when you need us, to talk at any time or to pray with you if that’s what you’d like to do. Continue relying on God and following in His example. Make good choices in your friendships and come to us any time for guidance. We’ll do our best to help you along your path as you grow and learn more about what you want to do. Be happy and healthy, always smile and let your spirit shine. Love you forever and always, sweet girl!

2016. Our family!

33 years old.

Friday, February 9th, 2018

Happy birthday to me in 2 days. This year Darren and I are celebrating 13 years of marriage. My gosh. When I look in the mirror and smile, I see right there the person who was posting regularly here so many years back. I remember writing, “where will I be X years from now.” here I am, still typing and still alive very blessed in every aspect of life. Each day has been complete in it’s own way, some sad others brimming with joy. My youngest is 6 just a week after I’m 33. Her face is gorgeous, her spirit is so sweet and her laugh is priceless.

Darren works on my birthday as he did the year I wrote the post titled, My Nice Day
Life has kind of gone back to that place. I have my oldest home again full time with me, the difference is really great though. We’ve reached our goal of owning a home, and are not away from family anymore.

My goals are pretty much the same as ever. I want to be patient and kind, I want to keep fit and active, I always hope to pray and read my bible. Through the years I continue to remind myself that in order to care for my family and follow the appropriate paths in life I have to take care of myself as well. Stay happy so that I can bring everyone else up is really my number one.

Here’s to 33 years, and hopefully a few more.