Lucy Lou

This fearless little toddler girl adorned in a pink tutu, decorative tights and light suede fashionable boots frolicks about the room with confidence and utter joy taking our breath away.  No one can resist her girlish grin that beams from ear to ear, favoring her daddy's looks with a hidden hint of her mother's beauty and devilish charms.  I'm speaking of my precious niece, little Lucy, who is the joy of our hearts, atleast she is in mine.  I refer to her as my little Lucy Lou, as she brings so much contentment and happiness to my world.  She reminds me in so many ways of my own grandma (Lou) who was so real, without facades and greeted all with honesty and friendship.  That's our Lucy, one big bundle of energy, enthusiasm and curiosity.  All my sadness melts away as I watch her whisp around the room, without a care in the world.  She's the most fearless little two-year old that I know with her cute, reddish hair style frolicking about her.  In one sense she reminds you of this tomboy who could "take down" any boy her own size and larger; yet, at the same time she tilts her head and nudges her little face into the corners of your arms, cradling your soul, my soul like a vulnerable little baby.  She goes about her daily business like a teacher tending to her classroom, making sure we all know where we need to be and what we should be doing.  I thank God for all the joy she has brought into our lives. 

During a time in our lives when everything seemed uncertain and frightening caring for our dear Chrissy during her cancer battle; Lucy's  presence into this world was a God send, atleast she has been for me.  Shortly after her birth, within hours, I knew how much she would mean to this family. When despair seemed to creep in, my little Lucy Lou swept me away to place of lollipops, sugar cubes and hope of a better place.  She is  vivacious, daring, devilish and fearless all rolled into one with a cute, sassy edge.  She shared her strength with me on days when  fear was my enemy.  When I didn't want to travel this journey with my sister, Lucy's eyes opened my eyes.  If she's not afraid, I thought to myself, why should I be?   I vividly remember her crawling into Chrissy's arms as she made her way up to my sister's face, and what happiness she gave my sister, if only for 11 months of her life.  Lucy brought shear bliss to my sister, and she never refused her tumbling pounces upon her bed.  Chrissy seemed to be the calm when Lucy was restless, and we used to call her the Baby Whisperer when Lucy would fall fast asleep in her arms.  It was heartwrenching for my niece, Cassie, who felt the emotions of Lucy not remembering her as she grew older.  She would only be a distant dream in Lucy's mind, and she wouldn't know the Aunt Chrissy as Cassie had known her.  It tore at your heart strings watching the two of them interact,  Lucy with her high pitched screams playing innocently with her Great Aunt Chrissy on her bed.   This miracle child, one who shares the same birthday as my sister, Deni, made some of those days bearable. 

I remember on the eve of her birth,  gathering in Cassie's hospital room as she battled the onset of labor.  So many things were up in the air for us, awaiting Chrissy's test result from the new found lump and wondering when  this child would make her presence known.  When was this child going to arrive?  So many false alarms and bedrest issues for Cassie, so many uncertainties.  You wouldn't have known that Chrissy was afraid with the smile she put out there.  When asked if she knew of  her test results yet, Chrissy quickly changed the subject and focused on Cassie's health instead. We were laughing, supporting one another, eating and wondering if our precious new arrival would ever come.  After many months of intensive preparation, awaiting this bundle of joy, we were still unsure......unsure of so many things.  The minutes, the hours ticked away, and still no Lucy......not yet.  We departed the hospital still wondering.  Life's timing isn't up to us, is it?  There seems to be a greater power at hand, and that revelation will come in its own time, that I've learned.

That day came, the following morning when Chrissy called saying that soon after we left, Cassie's doctor had ordered a C-section immediately given the circumstances of her pregnancy.  Our precious little Lucy was born, reddish hair, a huge smile and all was good, all were healthy and resting.  Feeling the excitement of this new addition to our family; I felt as though nothing could go wrong.  I was so excited that another baby had been born into our family.  I hurried to get my kids ready, as they all began their morning routines, getting  dressed for school, eating their breakfast and "eagerly" going to school.   My plans were to welcome that new baby with my daughter, Faith.  At that time, Faith went to afternoon Kindergarten so she was still at home with me.  She ate her pancakes and eased herself slowly in front of the morning television routines of watching Dora and Seseme Street as I was about to prepare my breakfast and get myself ready.  Shortly after 9:00 a.m. the phone rang again.  It was my sister, Chrissy, and even before she spoke I sensed that something was wrong.  How is it that we sense that in a telephone call before any words are spoken?  I don't remember her saying "hello" but I do remember her speaking with a firm, soft tone. 
"I have to tell you something like ripping off a bandaid, okay."
"Okay," I replied.
"They just called about my test results, and the cancer has returned, and they say it's in my liver.  I gotta go now." 
I remember telling her that I was sorry and that I loved her.  All I heard was a click, and she was gone, her voice, our lives as they once were......all of it was gone.
My mood that morning after hearing the news of Lucy was one of elation and relief that all was good for my niece......all was good for us.  How is it that life changes so quickly?  In a flash, my life had changed course.  In that moment, my hopes, our hopes, had all vanished as we had thought.  I knew, given her type of cancer, the immediate onset of its return..........I knew what this meant.  I can only say that the morning, my day and night were spent with tears.  Faith knew, too, that something was terribly wrong as I locked my bedroom door and fell to the floor. How could this happen?  This wasn't supposed to happen as tears and gutteral screams poured from the deepest part of my soul. 

That 20th day of January in 2009 was one of the best and worst days of my life.  Some might say the passing of my sister, that day was the worst, but for me it was when my visions of growing old with my sister had vanished.  That thought was only a dream, a hope, a prayerful daily request......that's when my life had changed forever.  Don't think of me as naive, but for some reason I took this thought of growing old with my younger sister as a given.  It never occured to me that she wouldn't grow old with me.....not until that day.  My parents were taken way too early in my life; there's no way my Chrissy would be taken, too.  There's no way.  I know life is filled with constant change, but this never really entered my mind.  How could a young mother be taken from her children who needed her so much?  Why her?  Why not someone else?  Why not me?  As the day's events unfolded only two years ago, it was one of the most difficult days of my life, processing this heartwrenching news.  My eyes had swollen shut, and thankfully for dark hospital rooms and sunglasses that day,  I was able to sneak a peak at baby Lucy without Cassie or Kyle knowing the day's latest news.  I didn't want to turn their joy into worries and fears.  I wanted them to be in the moment of life, love and peace.

Today as we gathered at Lucy's second birthday party, my heart still aches for my sister's presence, and this month is filled with mixed emotions.  Part of me is so grateful for the gift of this miracle child who showed us hope and life during  my sister's cancer journey while another part of me remembers the painful phone call from my sissy that day.  She was able to comfort me that day, as we embraced each other, and she said,  "For today we will cry, but tomorrow's a new day."   I'll take her advice and remember that for today, this moment, I may feel sad but tomorrow is a new day.  Tomorrow is a new day for our Lucy, too, as she walks with a playful, hopeful demeanor.  Her early memories may fade of that calming whisperer she once met, but I will remind her as I always do when I whisper in her ear, Aunt Chrissy loves you, Lucy Lou, Aunt Chrissy loves you."