Grief is not something you can ever get over. It is simply a journey...a forever journey. There are days that bring joy...days that bring comfort...days that bring tears...days that bring nothing but heartache and questions...unanswered questions. But the journey never ends...and neither does the pain in knowing that our daughter is gone.

However, with each passing day, I have felt my load begin to lighten. Of course, there are days when those horrible moments come flooding back...moments when all I feel is intense sadness, overwhelming guilt, and complete emptiness. But the days pass...and for the most part, I am able to think about Aubrey and smile. Although some people may view this as proof that "time heals all wounds," thanks to Joanne Cacciatore, founder of the MISS Foundation, I like to think of it a bit differently. Time...though it has helped to lessen the most raw pain in my journey...has also given me strength...strength that I never knew I had before I lost Aubrey. Like with any new workout routine, my muscles were incredibly sore at first...burning from the load that I now have to carry...but as time goes on, I find that my grief muscles are starting to become stronger...and as a result, I am becoming stronger as well.

Brad and I have learned a lot throughout the last year. We've learned who our true friends are...the ones who have continued to call...the ones who have continued to ask how we're really doing...the ones who aren't afraid to hear the truth...the ones who continue to let us know that they are thinking of us...especially on the hard days when we miss Aubrey the most. We've also met some new friends along the way...friends that understand our pain in a way that only those who have a lost a child can...friends we know have helped make this journey a little more bearable. We've learned that while we may grieve differently, we are both grieving...and that we will be for the rest of our lives. We've learned to respect those differences while holding onto our common bond...our love for Aubrey. We've learned to communicate with each other better than ever before...to rely on each other in ways we could have never imagined...to take advantage of every moment that we have together...even the small ones...all of which has brought us closer than we have ever been. We've learned that it's okay to question God...to be angry with Him...to wonder how this can possibly fit into His plan. Above all else, we've learned that nothing in life is guarenteed. We take nothing for granted anymore...and we pray that everyone who was touched by Aubrey's life will continue to remember that as well.

As with any journey, we know that we still have a lot to do...for ourselves, for others, and for Aubrey. Unfortunately, this journey is not one that we can simply step away from. We realize that though we are trapped in a nightmare, we cannot wake up tomorrow and go back to the way things were in the past. Grief has become a part of us. It has transformed us into the people that we are today...and it will follow us wherever we go in the future...for grief is a journey...a forever journey.

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In honor of Aubrey's first angelversary, Brad and I wanted to do something to help other people in our situation. With the help of several companies and organizations, we were able to put together 25 bereavement baskets and donate them to the hospital where Aubrey had died. In addition to the numerous resources designed to help newly bereaved parents, each basket also included two monkeys...one to leave with the child and one for the parents to hold onto...as well as a journal, a candle, a butterfly bookmark and magnet, a little bag for a lock of hair, and a copy of the book I Wonder What You Do on Your First Day in Heaven by Phoebe Welsh.

It was terrifying to walk back into the hospital again...to the place where Aubrey had died...where our lives had gone completely wrong only one year earlier. But we were quickly greeted by familiar faces...two chaplains that had witnessed our pain...and the pain in our hearts was filled with pride at what we were there to do. The chaplains had prepared a special memorial for the two of us...not only to bless the bereavement baskets that we were donating, but also to remember Aubrey...to help us see that because of her existance and our continued love for her, we were taking great strides in changing the way that the hospital cared for bereaved parents. While we would give up that pride to have our daughter back in our arms again, it does help mend our broken hearts in knowing that we are helping others...and that Aubrey continues to live on.

After we left the hospital, Brad and I went and visited the nearest Angel of Hope statue. Found in cities across the country, this statue is a public acknowledgement for all parents who have lost a child. It was breathtaking to see the Angel in person...along with all the flowers and little gifts that had been left by others. Looking up at the Angel, we were able to feel hope...hope for the future...hope for the time when we would be reunited with Aubrey and all would be well in our world again.

It is strange to feel so much peace on a day that brings reminders of nothing but heartache, but because of the things we did to remember our daughter today, that is exactly what we felt. We could feel Aubrey's presence and we witnessed God's grace surrounding us in every step of the way. If only this feeling could last forever...

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