2 years, 2 months, 26 days

817 days-ish (I'm not super good at math).  Today is the day that marks Ethne being gone as long as she was here, tomorrow will be day 818, and she will have been gone one day longer than she was here, and so on and so forth.  Today I will think about the short time I had with my sweet Princess and the things I have learned from her.  Please forgive me for my rambling...

I remember finally figuring out what her name meant/where it came from, I was still pregnant at the time.  It is the name of a celtic goddess of fire.  When I told my dad he said "You know this means she's going to have red hair."  I laughed it off, thinking that there was no way we'd get a red head, boy was I wrong!  It was the first thing I noticed about her when the nurses laid her on my chest after she was delivered, I couldn't believe it.

Having Ethne while we were still in school was hard, but I wouldn't change it.  She was my ray of sunshine after a tough day at school.  She was a social butterfly and loved to talk to people in the hall when she was at school with us, sometimes even getting upset at those who walked by without saying hello to her.  She showed me a different, softer side of my husband.  She taught me about love and patience.  She brought a very special spirit into our home.  She taught me to find joy in the little things and that slowing down to just read a story or play is always time well spent.  She taught me how to be a mommy and how to love more deeply.  She had a never-ending patience with me as I tried to figure this whole mommy thing out and was always ready with a big hug and kiss whenever I needed one.


I will forever cherish the six months the three of us lived in one bedroom in my in-laws' home, sharing a bed most nights, her little body snuggled tightly against me.  I hold dear memories of snuggling on the couch sharing my favorite childhood movie, "The Little Mermaid," with her.  I still laugh at the way she picked up her giant piece of cake on her first birthday to suck off the bright red frosting.  I think fondly of date nights at Grandma and Grandad Burt's house, playing cards and nursing, and eventually watching Ethne run around with Grandad's cane.  I miss our nightly sing-a-long, prayers, and stories, snuggled in her big girl bed that was once mine.  I miss the patter of her feet as she would bring me princess shoes and dress ups to help her with.  There are still days that I wake up expecting to see her sweet face perched at the edge of my bed, her little finger pressed to mine or Lawrence's nose.  I love how excited she would get to go play with her uncles every day.  I love the way Uncle Gabe just adored her and the way she would yell and tattle on "Igac."  I smile as I watch Mr. E get excited to see his daddy come home and I remember the way Ethne would run to the door to greet him, then turn tail and run away, giggling the whole time (Mr. E isn't quite as good at the running away thing).


But she didn't stop teaching me the day she left this mortal life.  I learn something from her every day.  Sometimes it's something I think I have already learned, but I need to learn it again.  Sometimes it is something about me, sometimes it is something about Mr. E, sometimes it is something about life, or even the Gospel.  I have learned to be more compassionate and to mourn with others.  I have learned even more patience.  I have learned endurance and perseverance.  I have learned the importance of temple covenants, prayer, and scripture study.  I have learned the value of a moment and a memory.  I have learned to treasure each moment with my kids, even the ones that seem obnoxious, because one day I will miss them.  I have learned to be a better mom, to yell less, and let go of some things that aren't worth the fight.  I have learned to always tell my babies (and my husband) how much I love them, because you just never know.

I miss my princess every day and I am grateful that I can continue to learn from her as she continues on her heavenly mission that will be much longer than her mortal life.  I will miss her every day until I see her again and can wrap my arms around her.