My side of the story: By Phoebe's oldest brother

When my tiny baby sister died I was devastated but let me introduce myself.  I am Ammon.  I was nine when my sister died in April 2008.

It all started when my mom announced we were going to have a baby and are going to keep it a secret.  All of us were as excited as children on a new playground.  I was desperately wanting a girl because I only had one sister and three brothers.  Every time my mom went to the doctors we watched how the baby grew.  Slowly days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and it was time for my mom to have a baby.  I was highly anticipating a girl.  I wanted to see the baby like a caterpillar wants to be a butterfly.  I was finally old enough to understand babies.  When my mom called to tell me that she died, I was heartbroken.

     I took it hard. I was bawling in my room like there was no tomorrow. Her name was Rebecca Phoebe Michel but we called her Phoebe. To make things worse, I didn’t get to see her in the hospital. The family was devastated because all that hope and anticipation turned into yearning and despair. Luckily we had a friend who worked in the morgue so we set up a day to see her. We all chose something that we wanted to put in her casket. I chose a pink rock that I liked and now it’s Phoebe’s.

When the day finally arrived we all went into this room where she was. I put the rock in her hand. After some of my younger siblings left the room I got to hold her. I was crying the whole time I held her. When we left it was a bittersweet moment. A few days later the funeral was held. I wasn’t even glad I missed a day of school. It was threatening to rain but it didn’t. It was a bleak and gloomy day. I didn’t even know how I was going to handle school.

   School was a little easier than expected. The principal let me see the school psychologist so I could get my feelings out without interrupting the class. The only problem was that I was really sensitive. Almost anything set me off.  On the day after Phoebe’s funeral, I spent most of the day with him because he was great at making me feel better. He even bought a heat sensed pencil from the school store for me. I ate lunch with him too. When I came home that first day, I saw a build-a-bear in the family room. My mom explained to me that that was phoebe’s bear. I got to sleep with it that night and let me tell you, I loved it.  The bear helped me feel comfort and peace. It is amazing what one bear can do. School got easier and the visits got less and less. I still miss her and it was hard, but our family pulled though. This helped our family bond together.

I’m Ammon and I’m 11.  I miss my sister and always will. 

3rd Anniversary Slideshow

For some reason, pictures and music speak to me.  I would love to go into detail about our 3rd anniversary, but the slideshow is all my heart can handle right now.  I hope to write down soon the stirrings I have in my heart.  For now, here is my gift to my sweet daughter.  I love you!!!

Coincidence?

Is it a coincidence that I found myself painting in what would have been Phoebe's room on the same day that I ended up seeing Princess on Ice? The last time I went there or painted her room was with Emily and Phoebe still in utero. For some reason I don't have too many pictures of me pregnant with Phoebe. I look at those pictures over and over again remembering what it was like to have Phoebe connected to me with an earthly presence. I remember trying to make room with both girls on my lap because I had a sleepy little Emily.

Three years are coming up soon. Time doesn't seem relative to the experience I had with my earthly little angel. I don't have much of a memory as my children can attest to, but I have such concrete memories of meeting my silent little lady.

I remember what it was like seeing her for the first time. Not knowing if she was a boy or a girl, but knowing deep down inside that I was carrying a daughter of God. I remember bringing her right into my chest willing some magic power to breathe life into her again. I have in my mind how painful it was to have her little body rising up and down with mine with every shallow breath that I took, thinking that there was still life within her. Hoping, believing that just maybe she would open her eyes. Just once.

There are so many things that I wish I could have had just once. A look, a cry, a smile, a laugh, a hug, a first prayer, a first step, a first accomplishment. How about the first day of school or a play date or dress up with sister or a bike ride with her brothers.

Bottom line. I was not ready to let my one experience to be to hold her for a few hours and then say goodbye. I remember staying up very late the night before the funeral, thinking of how crazy it was that I was not going to be getting more rest before a highly emotionally charged day. My whole perspective changed as I realized that there would never be a wedding or graduation. There would never again be a reason to stay up till all hours of the night to get something ready for Rebecca Phoebe. This was my one chance and I wasn't going to take a moment of it for granted.

As I continue to reflect on the experience that it was to say an early goodbye and bury my daughter I have a taste of what it must have been like for Eve to not be able to comprehend an opposite until you taste of fruit that thrusts you out of the garden and into the pain of life. I have tasted the bitter fruit of death and the sweet taste of new life. I am beginning to see already.

Say hello

Phoebe,

Will you do a favor for me?  Will you wrap your arms around Loreen Hoffman and say "Hello and a goodbye for now" from me?

I find myself with deep seeds of grief and sorrow for the Hoffman family as they grieve the loss of their mother and wife.  I remember how it feels to go to bed alone at night aching to hold you.  I remember the shock and that took an unmeasurable amount of time to realize that we were not to be together again for some time. 

I have gone back to the sleepless nights because my mind keeps racing of the way things were and how they have been forever changed. 

Phoebe, it hurts!  It hurts to lose someone you love.  Why can't I supersede this natural body and mind to know what it feels like where you are.  To know more of the eternal scheme and not be limited to this mortality.  I desire more than anything to know of the mysteries of God.  To behold His face in this life.  Not necessarily His physical face, but to know and understand that the infinite Being and Creator knows intimately what it feels like to be confined to a physical body with desires to know what is just beyond the veil. 

I get glimpses.  I touch heaven sometimes briefly with maybe a fingertip worth of understanding.  It feels so right to know things of the spirit.  When I allow myself to be still and know that He is God. I know that the Hoffman's are being blessed with all things temporal.  They are being blessed with help from those on your side.  Why then does my heart ache and my tears continue to come?  Why when I know of the great plan of salvation to know that we can be together again? 

So as I work through these emotions I ask that you don't leave my side.  That you will help with whatever is necessary to carry the Hoffman's.  Maybe we can work as a team.  I will keep trying to be worthy of the revelation that I seek.  It may not come in the form that I expect, but I have never been left comfortless. 

Thank you for being my ambassador on the other side.  I miss you.  I love you.

Forever yours,
Mom

Sparkling

Since Phoebe's sister has arrived I feel a heavenly connection that is hard to describe.  I have tried several times to sit and write another post on this blog.  All times, I have been unsuccessful to put what was in my heart to the page.  Here is attempt #445. (not really, but seems like it!)

There have been sweet moments that have happened in the time that I haven't blogged like this one (I started to write it in November of 2010)

I have had many "Mary" moments where I did as she, "kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart."  I have pondered your place in our family.  Why you came in the order that you did.  I have some peace as things have unfolded, things that I could not have foreseen. 

My mother's day present a month after we lost Phoebe.  I wanted something that I could always have with me as a token of my daughter. 

Were you there when Savannah saw my ring for the first time?  She touched it.  She looked at it.  It was as if she knew.  It made me miss you intensely.   She has since watched the sparkles that the diamonds play upon her skin when I hold her.  The light that reflects onto her body makes me feel like you are near.  That you are happy for this moment that I have shared with your sister.  Every time I see that sparkle from the ring that symbolizes you, I ache for what could have been and yet look forward to our future reunification. 

There have also been moments that have not been as sweet, more of a bittersweet feeling for me.

I was shutting the curtains one night in your brother's room when my eyes fell upon one of your pictures that was lying at an angle that I have never seen.  I wasn't intending on studying it.  I have passed by it several times.  Always noticing, but too hard to study.   Too hard to be reminded of those brief moments I had with you.

I looked at the way your hair was wavy, perfectly placed after your only bath.  I looked at your nose, which had been decided belonged to your Aunt Julie.  I looked at your chubby cheeks.  Your small body. 

I sat down where I was as if I had never seen you before.  I felt an intense desire to pull out your scrapbooks that I had made that I only so often pull out any more.  I caressed each page.  I relived the small moments.

I was only able to get through most of the first book before your siblings were needing my help.  When they noticed what I was doing, they sat down right by me and took over the flipping of the pages.  

I miss you.  I ache for you.  I can't wait to hold you again.  I love you.