I've been melancholy over the past few days. It hasn't been dragging me down; but my mind is in the past. We attended Charlotte's memorial last weekend. A year to the month from Henry's memorial.

Life is funny sometimes - both funny, ha-ha, and the bang your funny bone type. Sometimes I start to see how everything is connected, and then I start grasping at those connections to find that they are as fine as spiderwebs. These connections fall apart before I can even grasp at them.

I saw this statement in a store over the weekend: "There will always be a reason why you meet people. Either you need them to change your life, or you're the one that will change theirs."  I'm starting to believe in this again; almost beginning to acknowledge my heart's belief in God again. It's been a hard road, but the belief is returning slowly. It hurts, too. Like when your foot falls asleep? That pins and needs sizzling sensation, but in the soul.

It started when I had a dream about my grandfather. He was playing with two kids - my son, and little Charlotte. Henry looks like Jason, but he has my eyes - the shape. They're as blue as Amelia's. He has my hair, the curls, but the impossible white that will eventually turn to brown. A lot like his sister's hair. He has a dimple in his left cheek. My little boy is chubby and elfin and perfect in Heaven. His friend, Charlotte, is playing with him - so much like her brother plays with Henry's sister. Charlotte looks so much like her brother - but her hair is brown and curly/wavy, like her mama's. Her eyes are a little more green than brown, but still. My grandfather was playing with them, they were in the background of the dream -- but they were there. I woke up with a smile.

It was a nice dream.

But back to religion and belief - I don't know how I would have made it through the last year without my dear friend, and a wonderful group of women that I've met because of our loss. My dear friend, Charlotte's mommy, and I never really connected before - our husbands are great friends, but they moved away before I got to know her. They moved back just in time for Henry's memorial. And then, this winter, they found out about baby Charlotte, and her diagnosis - so similar to our Henry's!- and we were able to listen, and understand. Now I count her as one of my dearest friends, a bestie, and I can't imagine life without her and her family. They've become part of our family.

These connections? They feel like God to me.

I feel bad for not writing a post for Henry's birthday/anniversary. His first year in heaven. I was distracted - we found out my mom has cancer on that same day. I was a mess.

Now, for happiness. I had a discussion about happiness with a friend over the weekend; about how we're promoting it endlessly. It seems to me that there needs to be some clarification for our children: happiness is in the moments. It's not a static state of being. Our children need to be free to acknowledge all of their emotions, not just the ones that please us. It's something I'm trying to teach Amelia -- she enjoyed her day at the carnival this weekend, but she got scared on a ride she tried out. She screamed her head off until they let her off the ride. We didn't shame her in front of the other kids - instead, we gave her hugs and told her that it was all right to be scared sometimes, that everyone gets scared. We told her that she was very brave and we were proud of her for trying the roller coaster (kiddie coaster; she was just tall enough and begged to do it - maybe next year!). I'm doing a 100 Days of Happy project on my Facebook; but I'm not trying to be happy all of the time. I'm sharing things that make me happy for the moment (it's probably going to be 95% Amelia and Jason!), but I'm going to try to be very clear that my end result is just to be able to acknowledge my emotions when I am happy.

I'm trying to live fearlessly; except when it comes to my daughter. That's a different type of fear. I'm living fearlessly for myself.