Welcome to the world, Samuel Joseph...

This precious boy came into this world last night, completely surrounded by love and thankfulness.  He joined a family that loves with abandon, gives every piece of their hearts and radiates Christlike love.
This mama, my cousin Rebecca, welcomed this little boy, carrying forward the name of my sweet boy-
without her mama.
Because her amazing mama lives in Heaven with my babies.  3 incredible souls whose leaving left a hole that can never be filled, but whose spirits and joy still find ways to invade each of our hearts.

Her mama, my Aunt Deb-I could write a book and never tell you all the ways she shaped me.  The love she shared, the wisdom she exuded, and the selfless servant heart that carried me during times in my life that I couldn't carry myself.
I'd be lying if I didn't say that reading the words telling me my son would have a namesake didn't take my breath away.
Because they did.
I never thought, in a million years, that he wouldn't be here to grow up with Becca and Kyle's babies.  That he wouldn't be there to make those crazy memories only cousins can share.
And I was, and still am, humbled beyond words by their selfless and loving act of choosing Samuel to name this beloved boy.  Touched far and deep into my soul.
Samuel-
Welcome to this crazy world.  You're so blessed God chose this family for you.  Your mama and daddy are some of my most favorite people, and they have inspired me for so many years with their faith, patience, devotion to family and insatiable zest for life.  Mama and Daddy will love you with the reckless abandon they love Mols with.  You'll be an amazing, and endearingly irritating little brother.  And we will all love you, cherish you and tell you all about those amazing people who live in Heaven that we miss so much.

Welcome to the family, Sam!
Love,
Aunt Tiff, (AKA TT,) (AKA that crazy lady with the tattoos who drinks too much wine and will always try to steal you from your mom...)

Unfiltered.

A new friend told me the other day that I shouldn't filter what I write...Bless you, Anne, but you might live to regret those words.
I won't.
I'm tired of regret and filtering, worrying that I'm going to make someone uncomfortable or awkward.  Life without my kids and with my surviving children  IS awkward and uncomfortable.  And just like the amputee that has to live without his or her legs by relearning every, single thing-

I, WE-all of us, have to do the exact same thing.  Except our amputation isn't something you see with your naked eye.  It's a cleaving of the heart, soul and spirit.  A literal ripping away of integral pieces of the heart, and shredding what's left.  It's bloody and it's brutal.
And you simply cannot see it.
But I can.  Every day that I look in the mirror and stare at the hollowed eyes that stare back at me now.  Eyes that used to smile when I did, but now only see.  No one tells me they're pretty anymore.  Because they're not.  They're dead kid eyes.  And those eyes don't smile.  No matter how hard you try, the smile just doesn't ever quite reach them.

I see that amputation- 

Every time my son bursts into tears because I said "listen up guys," because I forgot it was just him in the room and not all of the littles.
Every time my oldest child rips my heart to shreds when she tells me that I make everything about Mercy and Sam, and that "it's not all about them, Mom!  It's about us too!"
Every time I watch Charley hold those who are desperate to love her at arms length.  Because she is terrified of loving them back and then losing them all over again.

I SEE IT.

You know how they pick people to get new houses because they're sick or broken or been through something completely awful-like losing a limb, or a spouse, or getting blown up in war?

Is it ridiculous that I just want someone to pick us?  They don't even have to give it to us.  I'll buy the darn thing.  Just find it, furnish it, do some crafty and beautiful thing to create space in my house for the kids who live with Jesus and then hand me the keys.
So I can go home. 

And before ANYONE feels the need to remind me that my true home is with Jesus and nothing on this earth can compare, let me remind you that I KNOW THAT.   I spend every day waged in an internal, spiritual battle of epic proportions-because when you have children to die for and children to live for, it's freaking HARD.  But I have to live HERE, in this world for now.  And as much as I do daydream about that day when we're all truly home, together, in the arms of Jesus-
It's not my reality right now.
This is. 

So for now, I'll just spend some time daydreaming that the #propertybrothers are going to show up and fix it.

A broken hearted mama can dream a little, right?