Tag Archives: Gratitude

This happens.

blue_candlesI have written and deleted this post more than four times today.

Too many thoughts, too many words, too much emotion.

I wrote about being vulnerable, drama, fear, pity, judgement, and frustration.

I wrote about good friends, family, safe spaces, sage women, trusting your gut, taking that risk and helping others.

I had a point.

I had a message.

I had a goal but in the end I realized that it was just ‘stuff’.

All I really wanted to say is that my heart aches for this family. That this could happen to anyone, we could have been these parents, that child could have been Logan.

We weren’t.

He wasn’t.

This child is ‘our’ child, the T1D community has a family that is grieving, we grieve with them and for them. Tonight like so many other parents will be doing with their own children, I will check on Logan more than normal. I will curse T1D.

Do I think about this happening? Yes, but not as often as I used to.

Not that long ago, I woke up in the middle of the night with a sick feeling in my stomach that something was wrong. I immediately went and checked on Zoe and Logan.

For the first time since his diagnosis I checked to see if he was breathing.


I checked to see if he was breathing.

My first thought was to check his breathing, not his blood sugar.

It scared me.

A lot.

That night I scooted him over and slept next to him. Not because I was nervous, but because I was grateful.

Insulin is not a cure.

I usually don’t share articles about deaths due to T1D complications. I’m not sure why. I am completely and utterly aware of this reality. Maybe it’s because I want to be that person that believes and trusts that there is a way, that there is a cure coming…before it happens again.

This is why we fund raise, why we advocate and why we keep going and why we are so grateful for all that you do to help us find a cure.

Believe me, there will be times when we yell ‘TAG! Your it!’ because we will be tired, we will need your help and we will be so happy that you are there on the front lines with us.

So hug your kids tight, unplug, share your gifts with this world, be nice to each other, hold your judgments, forgive, be gentle with yourself, and fight the fight, whatever it may be.

You matter. You make a difference. Use your power for good. Life is too precious to hold back.

And remember…this happens.

Bless this family, their friends, and their children, may they feel loved and supported during this time.






We are all connected…Heart Garland

DSCN1135I wasn’t sure what we would tell Logan and Zoe, much less the details of the tragic events. So, when Zoe asked me if someone was shot at a school, well, I was a bit rattled. My parenting skills skipped town, my heart ached and my mind raced searching for answers.

She had overheard some parents talking after school while she was practicing cartwheels with her friends. I love Zoe for her attentiveness, but in this moment I had only wished that she had been more distracted by the giggling of her friends than the tears of a mother.

In the end we talked with Logan and Zoe about what happened at Sandy Hook. It was not easy, trying to find the words to explain to them about the depth of it all without scaring them or adding worry to their thoughts.

We left the conversation feeling that we had covered what needed to be covered, though more than we had anticipated. As the weekend rolled along there were other moments when it resurfaced, innocently giving Zoe a glimpse of what had happened. The front page of a newspaper laying on a table at Panera’s. An overwhelmed mother talking with her friend near the kids Christmas movies at Target. In that particular moment I couldn’t react fast enough to get Zoe away from the conversation, leading to me giving the other Mom the ‘stink-eye’ with a “What are you doing?!!” glare.

It was in the car that the conversation transpired, Zoe wondering how someone could be so ‘mean’, How could they hurt those kids? Why did he go to the school? Why? Why? Why? Logan sat quietly in the seat next to her, I watched their faces, my heart ached for those families and I could see my children struggling with it all, internally, externally, searching.

As we talked about it, I wanted them to remember that there is always something that can be done. We all want to turn back time and save those children and families from heartache and loss. But we can’t, so what do we do? As a society, that’s up to us, the adults, that’s not what this moment was about. It was about helping my children feel safe and showing them to keep putting good back in the world, to remind them how much good is out there and that together we can help each other heal. It doesn’t have to be a grand gesture, what’s most important is that it is a heartfelt, loving one.

It all felt so ‘big’, what to do, how to help. My own mind raced with thoughts about the families, the children, the community. There were no words to express the range of emotions that we were all feeling, trying to grab onto whatever it is that keeps us centered.

While searching for ways to translate it all to my seven and nine year old, I tried to explain to them that sometimes when there is a big crack in the pavement you have to fill in the all of the little cracks first. That all of the little things help fix the big things. I could see their bodies relax, their faces soften as they eased back into their seats.

I asked them what would make them feel better if this would have happened to our family. They both said hugs first and then as we talked about our family blog and how we have been sending out hearts to raise awareness for T1D they shouted out, we could send hearts!! Perfect I thought, something that they could do and it would help them feel like they had control of what was happening.

I wasn’t at all surprised when they started asking if they could ask their friends and family to send hearts too. Hmmmmm…I explained that it might be a little tricky because for many reasons, and good ones, not everyone will have the same information about what happened, so we might want to just ask a few people to join us. They were persistent and truly believed that others would want to join us, so I sent out a few e-mails, shared with a few friends and you know, they were right.

As the names started to pour in, I thought to myself, “Kids have it right, they blurt things out, they cut to the chase and they speak from the heart, no filters”, though sometimes I wish they had a little bit of filter, like when we are in the check-out line and they suggest that the lady should use the white stuff that I use for her mustache.

At first we thought to just send a box of hearts, then there were so many names we thought to make a garland of hearts. A collection of love, thoughts and prayers sent together, strung together by one ribbon, feels right. We are all connected, a garland would be perfect.

In a short amount of time we have received over 200 names and they keep coming. They have come from all over the United States, Canada, India, Australia, Japan and Guatemala.

So, join us! We invite you to send your name, city, and state to be added to one of our hearts. (It doesn’t have to be your full name, whatever you feel comfortable with, though we would like to add a location to show support from all over, not just from where we are from).

Feel free to share this post with friends and family, we’ll be taking names until Dec. 25 at Midnight (MST). All you need to do is leave your info. here or you can e-mail it to me at ddricke@gmail.com. We’ll make sure that your love and good vibes are added to our garland, and we’ll be sure to post a photo of the garland when it is completed.

Thank you for considering it and for sharing it. I am grateful to all of those that have contributed in helping this parenting moment slowly shift from a very difficult conversation to a movement of love and kindness. We look forward to adding you to our family of hearts! and since we can’t hug everyone as Logan and Zoe so eagerly suggested, we send you hugs from here, may we all continue to move forward in kindness and grace.

I want to stay there forever.

IMG_3678(1)I fully enjoyed this moment when it was happening, and when I look at it now I think- I want to stay there forever.

We were walking on the trail when the kids found this amazing tree to climb on and explore. It naturally provided its own ‘seats’ for them to snuggle into and a big smooth trunk to lay upon. It was so strong and protective, gently inviting them into a safe space.

The water was like glass, the sun was setting, the air was crisp. I feel myself sigh as I recall the moment. It was that good.

When I first noticed Logan sitting there it felt a little surreal, a bit dreamy, as if he was sitting high above the clouds looking down, pondering life, being still. It was a moment untouched by diabetes. I wanted to stay there forever.

After a long week of holiday fun, which was filled with navigating the highs and lows of his blood sugars, this moment felt like landing on a soft pillow. I wanted to stay there forever.

In our every day life, with our regular routine of school, work, Scouts and other things, T1D is so embedded into our day that it just fits like a glove, usually. It’s not until we have a special occasion or visitors that T1D taps me on my shoulder, as if to remind me that it’s there, and what it is that we do to keep Logan healthy…and alive. (This is in no way a request for you not to visit us. The joy we get from sharing time with family and friends is a blessing in itself, though for us it is also a time that gives us pause as Logan’s needs are observed not only by us, but by family and friends).

During these times, I quickly realize how many times I say “Logan, check your blood sugar“, “What’s your blood sugar Logan?”, “Logan needs his tummy shot“, “Did you dose Logan?” and truly how restricting it feels, and sometimes can be. I don’t want to stay here forever.

T1D is manageable, there are many great advancements in the field, research efforts continue to move towards better ways to support people in their daily lives, but… sometimes it just plain ole’ sucks. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for so many things, though after a week of extreme highs, extra pokes, sleepless nights and trying to keep Logan’s blood sugar in range, it not only fuels my efforts to raise awareness but to also continue raising funds for research.

Yes, some days it feels like a drop in the ocean. For those days I have this quote taped to the inside of my closet, I see it every morning, a reminder that every drop matters.

We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop. – Mother Teresa

I don’t have time to doubt my efforts as I try to reach people, to raise awareness or to convince them to support our cause. I might be naive in thinking that one person can make a difference. The thing is, I truly believe that one person can make a difference, and that person is you.

I share our lives with you to raise awareness, to help others understand the daily life of someone that has Type 1 Diabetes. I also share our lives to show Logan and Zoe that people are powerful, people are kind, people truly care and that we all have the ability to make a difference in someone’s life.

We are not unique, we stand with the many others that advocate for a cure, whether it be for Type 1 Diabetes, Cancer, Parkinson’s, Epilepsy, Cerebral Palsy, Pediatric Cancer or Alzheimer’s (the list for a cure is long, no cause is to be omitted, we stand united with all that are in search for a cure). We appreciate you finding those few minutes in your day to think about T1D.

So thank you for sticking with me as I write to share, to educate and with your help, to raise awareness. I will run, ride and walk until there is a cure. Like any parent advocating for their child, I will not stop until I can give Logan that moment again, the moment that lasts a lifetime, where his life is untouched by T1D. It is then that we will celebrate, give thanks… and we will stay there forever.