One year...
The first year without Cori was the hardest year of our lives.
The first Christmas without her came just one short month after her death.  The pain was so new and raw that I can’t even
remember that holiday.  I know we spent the day alone....

Then came the first everything else.....
The first Easter I remember being so excited because I wanted so badly for those in my family who did not know Jesus to finally
accept what that day meant for their eternity.  No one we invited came to the church services that Easter.  I realized later that I
had hoped for too much.
The first Mother’s Day and Father’s Day not having a child to validate that title anymore.  But even more than that were the other
firsts you don’t think about.  
The first time you see a favorite cartoon and realize she’s not there to laugh at it anymore.  The first time you see one of the
children she used to go to school with, and realize there will be no more school days.  
The first time you go to a restaurant and realize that the last time you were there, she was alive.  

The first year is the most horrible 365 days a person can endure.  There is just no other way to say it-that first year is hell on earth.

We did want to celebrate her life and all she meant to us.  We invited our family and friends to the cemetery to mark the passing
of one year.  We played two songs for everyone there, “Every Breath I Breathe” and “Homesick”.  We all wrote notes on balloons
to Cori and we all blew bubbles for her.  Then we all held the balloons high and at once let them go.  The pictures taken are of
the balloons very slow ascent into the heavens.  I like to believe that Cori Joy saw them coming.  I like to believe she was allowed
to keep one or two.  

And I like to believe that on that dark day in November, our beautiful daughter smiled down at us....
flowers
from
Auntie...
Letting the balloons go...
Going...
...going...
...gone.