Author: sandibrooke

To Brooke on Your 16th Birthday

~ sandibrooke ~ 6 Comments

Dear Brooke,

I’m sitting by the fire with a cup of tea struggling to find the words for your annual birthday letter. You should be here, drinking tea and talking about how exciting your life is right now. You should be driving and shopping for prom dresses. Instead, I’m just imaging what you’d d be like, longing for your presence, and angry as hell that your life was cut so heartbreakingly short.

I want to spit out raw words of rage that scream of the injustice and unfairness of it all,  but I can’t anymore… and there are two reasons. The first is because you would never want me to do that,  and I won’t embarrass you just because you’re not here to stop me.

The second is because I’ve learned so much about the world since you so tragically left. It’s full of  bereaved parents who miss their children as much as I miss you. In the five years since your last birthday on Earth, I’ve met many parents who lost their children,  and they are some of the kindest people in the world. I know their angel kids through the stories they tell, and they’re special like you, with big hearts and a wisdom beyond their brief time here.

I can’t begin to understand any of this, but I know somehow we are all connected and you remain connected to me, to Blake, to Dad and even to Leah who just yesterday made a car from some recently found old Legos. She put a little girl figure in the car and said, “Brookie.” How could she know that your name is still on her back in masking tape from the day you took it to preschool?

It’s after Midnight now and I know tomorrow will be difficult, but we’ll smile through our tears and allow our home to be filled with the light and warmth we feel when we let go of the anger and sadness and just let your spirit into our hearts and minds. It won’t be easy. It’s never easy. But we have no choice.

And I think that’s your birthday gift. Our continued connection to you. Because Brooke, if we can find the strength to push away the anger, sadness and grief… all that’s left is our love for you. And my hope is that you feel it on your birthday, and every moment of every day until we meet again.

 

To Blake On Your 13th Birthday

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We have several birthday traditions in our family. There’s the birthday balloon in your room when you wake up (note: thankfully I have a teen so I can run to Harris Teeter tomorrow morning). And, since I started writing this blog, each child gets a birthday letter.

Dear Blake,

That 18-month old in the photo may look different than you do now at a strapping 5 foot 4 inches… but you’re still the same in so many ways. I remember this day so well. We were at the park and I was pushing you in the swing. I said to you, as parents often say to toddlers without really expecting an answer, “What are you thinking about in that swing?” And you replied, without hesitation, “Crackers.”

You were always the talker. It made your toddler and preschool years easier because you could always let us know what you were thinking. The talking also made you incredibly persistent, because you assumed once you told me what you wanted, you should have exactly that. As you grew older, your talking turned into some pretty funny one liners They were usually at bedtime and always with this intro:  “Mommy, I want to tell you something.”

So here is a compilation of your observances during your first year of preschool, a decade ago, when you were 3.

“When I was a baby, God rang your doorbell and said, ‘Here is your baby.’ And you said, ‘Thanks God. I think I’ll name him Blake Randle.’ ”

“Mommy, I’m going to marry you whenever Daddy is on a business trip so you won’t be lonely.”

“I don’t know why Santa goes down the chimney. I’m m never going down any chimney, not even when I’m a grown up.”

“I had a good day at school today. I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“I was going to marry Aubrianne today, but Lydia brought in cupcakes so I’m going to marry her instead.”

“They keep telling us at school to make Christmas decorations and I tell my teacher, ‘We have enough at home, we don’t need anymore.’ But she keeps telling me to make them anyway and I don’t know why.”

And my very favorite, “I’m going to kiss you on your heart, so I will always be there.”

Blake, I want to tell you something. You are always in my heart. You share that space with your sisters and your dad, and I remain so grateful that you are still the talker. I love hearing about your day, your adventures, your hopes, dreams and even disappointments. Our conversations are everything to me. As you enter your teen years, I know you may not share everything, but I do hope you keep sharing and I promise keep listening. I love you more each year, if that’s even possible.

Always remember how much you are loved. By Daddy, Leah, me and Brooke.

Because Brooke is so very proud of her brother and her best friend. I’m certain of that. Now please sleep in as late as possible tomorrow so I can run out and get that birthday balloon.

Love, Mom

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So

Brooke’s Books by Lindy Evans, 2nd Grade Teacher Rawson STEAM School Hartford, CT

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I was given the great gift and privilege of being the recipient of the donations for a book drive in memory of my dear friend Sandi’s daughter, Brooke. Monetary donations from all over the country allowed me to purchase nearly $1000 worth of new books for my classroom. In addition, Sandi’s sister-in-law, Marlise, organized a used book drop-off at her house, which resulted in boxes and boxes of books for my school.

Buying books, especially children’s books, is possibly the only type of shopping I enjoy. Buying books with these donations was joy tinged with sadness because of why the book drive exists. I never got to meet Brooke, but I had long chats with Sandi about her dancing, and her homework, and especially about her love of reading. I had the pleasure of recommending books both for Brooke and her brother, Blake. I have since had the joy of becoming friends with Blake — a super fun guy who plays Exploding Kittens with me and Bowie on his guitar — and his baby sister Leah, who is a spitfire and a total dish and she knows it. I’ve got some books in mind for her, too.

Because Brooke was kind, and because Brooke loved to read, her friends came up with the idea of a book drive. Last year the books went to a school on a Navaho reservation, this year they came to me. I plan to work with Sandi to continue Brooke’s legacy of kindness and generosity, so you’ll be hearing more about Brooke’s Books in the future, but for now, I’d like to share a very small glimpse of what Brooke’s Books looked like this year.

Many, many thanks to all who donated. Special thanks to friends who donated because though they didn’t know Sandi and her family they were moved by their story.

And to those of you who have never read the Interrupting Chicken books, I am very sorry for you. My class thinks they are hilarious.kids

Brooke’s Books

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How do you honor a classmate and friend you lost suddenly in sixth grade? Each March, Brooke’s middle school in Palos Verdes Estates, California, was decorated with purple hearts and balloons on her birthday. Students performed random acts of kindness as they remembered their sweet friend. But as middle school drew to a close, they wanted to find a way to remember her for years to come. In 2018, Brooke’s English Language Arts teacher, Olivia Wakida, helped her friends, now 8th graders, create an event to remember Brooke on her birthday. Brooke had many passions, but she especially loved books. Soon it became quite clear that a book drive to help schools less fortunate than theirs would be something meaningful and sustainable. “Brooke’s Books!” shouted one of her closest friends. The name stuck, and they got to work immediately.

In March 2018, Palos Verdes Intermediate School students collected used and new  books for a school on a Navajo reservation in Arizona. The books came from everywhere: her elementary school and her dance studio, from people who knew Brooke and people who came to know her through the stories we continue to tell of a girl who was kind to all, who made us laugh and who made us feel loved.

In March 2019, The Randle family picked up the reins for the second annual Brooke’s Books. The recipient: Rawson STEAM Elementary School in Hartford, Connecticut. Second grade teacher, Lindy Evans, is a close college friend of Brooke’s mom. Budgetary cuts have made it challenging for teachers to adequately stock classroom libraries. From North Carolina, Brooke’s mom, dad, brother and sister asked family and friends to send gift cards and monetary donations. From neighboring Glastonbury, Connecticut, Brooke’s aunt, Marlise Randle-Davis and her family asked friends and neighbors to drop off used books.

While the books are still being sorted by grade and reading level, it’s estimated that over 500 books have been collected. They will be shared during  an all-school free book fair in May where teachers can select the books they need for their own classroom libraries. After that, students will be invited to select a free book to take home. Ms. Evans also plans to use the gift cards and monetary funds to purchase new books to complete the libraries.

The Randle Family is grateful for the continued love and support for Brooke and her love of reading. Brooke was always about helping others, being kind and sharing her favorite stories. She also loved to write and draw. One day, her mom and siblings plan to create a children’s book using her stories and drawings as the basis for a wonderful tale of a girl who will continue to inspire others for years to come.

For more information about Brooke’s Books, contact her mom, Sandi Randle randle.sandicatherine@gmail.com

To Brooke On Your 15th Birthday

~ sandibrooke ~ 2 Comments

My Sweet Brooke: This picture was taken when you turned 11. It was your very last birthday on Earth and, while I remember it so well, we all thought you had so many more. We went to dinner in Hermosa Beach with Nana and Ray. You’re wearing the outfit you picked out just hours earlier at TIlly’s on your birthday shopping spree. I loved shopping with you. Your sense of style was incredible for a girl your age. You knew what looked good on you and you also knew what looked good on others. I loved the way you would go into my closet and put together ensembles that went beyond my usual jeans and solid tees. When I told you I wasn’t young enough, or skinny enough, or pretty enough to pull off an outfit like that, you’d just shake your head adamantly. You saw the best in me, and the best in others, too.

Blake and I were just talking about that on the way to his School of Rock rehearsal (you should hear how amazing he is on guitar)!  He told me he could name many people…kids and adults… who became kinder after you passed away. We agree that your quiet influence was bigger than you ever knew, and that it remains just as strong. And there are so many people who never knew you while you were here, but they know you now through the stories we continue to tell.  Brookie, you remain my compass, showing me where to go. You are also my beacon and I’m always focused on your light. It shines so brightly as I watch Blake and Daddy goofing around. I see it in Leah’s eyes when she’s laughing and in the way she dances to the Wiggles just like you did at her age. I stay in the light because that’s where you are, and that’s where I feel closest to you.

We’ve spent three birthdays without you here, but we still eat pasta and chocolate cake and we will continue to do so forever. Each birthday, we promise to give something to others on your behalf. Last year, your friends started Brooke’s Books. And this year we’re doing it again! I know you’d love my friend, Lindy Evans. She was the one who recommended your favorite book, “Shadow Castle”. Lindy has been a steadfast friend, and she’s one of the people I can call anytime I’m sad about you. She always listens and she never tries to diminish what a great loss it is to no longer have you here. I’m so glad we can help her school this year.

So sweet Brooke, I hope you have chocolate cake in Heaven. I know you have friends there, and many of them are the children of parents I’ve met here who miss their kids as much as I miss you. I hope you’ve met our family and close friends who are already there: Grandfather Randle, Grandpa Sandy, Uncle Sammy, Aunt Margaret, Aunt Dolly, Patty, Mike and Tom and Beth. A few months ago I had a dream that I found you in Heaven. You ran to me and hugged me so tight! Your hair smelled exactly as I remembered and your long fingers wrapped themselves around my back. You simply exclaimed, “I never knew I could miss you so much and it’s only been two weeks!” That’s exactly what I hope it feels like when we meet again. For now I’m here raising Blake and Leah and taking care of Daddy and Dudley. My hope is that time slows down enough for you not to miss us too much, although we will always miss you each and every moment. We promise to celebrate every one of your birthdays forever with these three things: pasta, chocolate cake and books. And we promise to live each day with these two things: kindness and light. Because Brooke, that is exactly what you were – and what you still are to us all.  Love, Mom, Dad, Blake, Leah and Dudley

Brooke’s Books will help Lindy Evan’s 2nd Grade Classroom at Rawson STEAM School in Hartford, Connecticut. Budgetary restrictions have limited teachers’ ability to build adequate classroom libraries. Used or new books may be sent to:  Lindy Evans, Rawson STEAM School, 260 Holcomb Street, Hartford, CT, 06112
You can also do PayPal at Lindy Evans@comcast.net and she will apply her teacher discount to purchase the books she needs. Brooke’s Books runs  through March 31. Thank you for supporting our beautiful girl as we continue to celebrate Brooke’s life and her love of reading.

To Blake On Your Twelfth Birthday

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BrennRide

Dear Blake,

It’s almost midnight on the eve of your birthday and the last day of 6th grade. 12 years ago, your dad and I headed to the hospital around this time and you were born at 6 a.m. the following morning. Your birth was quick and easy… dare I say peaceful during that quiet time in the maternity ward. You were happy and adaptable to any situation and a fast learner. Before we knew it you were crawling, walking and then talking – a lot. In fact, I don’t think we remember you before the talking. Your first word was “ball” and you loved “Thomas the Tank Engine” and later, Superheroes and you still do. In fact, I know your superpower, and that is resiliency.

I believe that superpower of yours is what helped you adapt to our family moving from Ohio to California and now to North Carolina. I believe that your resiliency helps you handle a batting slump or a bad day on the pitching mound. Your resiliency helps you face challenges big and small, and of course the biggest one being the loss of Brooke.

But your superpower helps more than you. It helps others, too. I honestly don’t know how our family would have made it through the past two and a half years without your insight, instinct and humor. I remember being in awe as you went to school just a week after what I hope will be the most tragic event ever in your life, and how you returned to the baseball field and basketball court, too. I watched you learn to do tricks on your skateboard, play acoustic and electric guitars, to navigate the ever-changing social norms of fourth, fifth and now sixth grade, and to never stop talking about Brooke. You have clearly become the keeper of her memory, her spokesperson and the most constant connection to her that I feel daily. And then when Leah came into our lives, you once again adapted, embraced and accepted her with all of her baby ways. You made room in your heart for her, sandwiching yourself between your big and little sisters, pointing out that we are now are a family of 5.

So Happy 12th Birthday to our superhero and son. As you grow, our love grows bigger. We can’t wait to celebrate every year; every milestone with you.

Because Blake… you mean everything to us and Because Brooke is always with you, watching you and so proud of her superhero little brother.

 

Sunshine and Thunderstorms

~ sandibrooke ~ 1 Comment

North Carolina has interesting weather. Today Alexa told us to expect sunshine and thunderstorms, and I couldn’t help but think that’s pretty much the daily forecast for a bereaved parent.

When you lose a child, you never get over it, but you learn to get through it… one moment at a time. Brooke is always on my mind (along with Blake and Leah) but there are times when the emptiness from not having her here becomes unbearable. And that’s when the storm hits. Sometimes these storms are in the forecast, like holidays or her birthday. Sometimes these storms come out of nowhere,  and these are called triggers.  These unexpected moments of overwhelming sadness pop up when I see a girl around Brooke’s age with her wavy hair swinging as she walks by me in the pickup line at school. They happen when I hear a song by Meagan Trainor or Taylor Swift, when I’m channel surfing and come across her favorite Disney XD shows, and especially when I see a brother and sister goofing around at the mall. They remind me of all that was. But the big storms come up when I think of all the things she will never experience like graduation, prom, college, and that walk down the aisle.

Back in the early days, the storms were relentless, but as I get farther along on this never-ending journey without her, I’m able to welcome any ray of sunshine that breaks through the clouds. And sometimes we even have clear skies for a while like when Leah laughs with delight, when Blake hits three doubles in one baseball tournament,  and especially when I see the carefree and wild way that Brenn and Blake can play together again.  The sun shines bright on our strong yet struggling family. And while we realize there is always another storm on the horizon, and that they will never subside, we also know that we can survive them all. Because Brooke is always with us, through sunshine and thunderstorms, and all the lonely nights in between.

Rainbows and Butterflies

~ sandibrooke ~ 2 Comments

If there’s one thing we know, it’s that life isn’t all rainbows and butterflies. But sometimes, both come into our lives when we need them the most.

It’s been two years since Brooke left us for heaven and we’ve been visited by countless butterflies. They provide comfort and remind us that the world is full of mysteries we will never understand. Our job, quite simply, is to trust our instincts, and be open to all signs that our loved one is near.

Rainbows have a way of sneaking up on you when you need them the most. They bring beauty and light after the stormiest of skies. Rainbows are truly a gift from heaven, which is where the term Rainbow Baby comes from. They are the children that come after child loss, never as a replacement, for it’s impossible to replace a child. But just like rainbows, these babies are truly a beautiful gift from above.

Introducing Leah, our Rainbow Baby, born on October 15. Her birth parents are two of the kindest and selfless people we’ve ever met and we are so grateful to welcome this beautiful baby girl as newest member of our family. She’s truly a gift from heaven, and has a way of filling in the cracks in our broken hearts.

Rainbows and Butterflies. They exist in our lives side by side. We know that Brooke loves her baby sister and have no doubt their souls have already met. And the moments we long for Brooke’s physical presence as we go about this latest family chapter… well, those are the moments when we feel her around us the most. Because Brooke is always near, and we have no doubt that our beautiful butterfly had a lot to do with the lovely new rainbow in our lives.

Here, There and Everywhere

~ sandibrooke ~ 7 Comments

Our family has covered a lot of ground on our journey through the grief of losing Brooke. Along the way we’ve made all the usual stops. Shock. Denial. Anger. Bargaining, etc. As for Acceptance… I think it’s more of Acknowledgement. We Acknowledge that we lost Brooke to a congenital birth defect called a brain aneurysm/AVM. We Accept that there was nothing we, or any doctor could have done to prevent what happened to her from happening. We Accept that God is holding her hand in heaven, and that she is holding our hearts here on Earth.

Our family has covered a lot of ground in the literal sense, too. All the way from California to North Carolina. Our journey took our little family to the Grand Canyon and Route 66. Through a solar eclipse and, finally, to the street where we now live, aptly named Brookfield Place.

Moving cross-country was something we never planned. But if there’s anything we’ve learned in the past two years, it’s that life seldom goes to plan. So when a great job opportunity came up for Brenn, along with the chance to slow down a little with shorter commutes and a more reasonable cost of living…the choice became perfectly clear.

Our new neighborhood feels like something out of a storybook. A street full of kids who are outside playing ball or fishing in the nearby pond. There are tree houses and trampolines, and amazing neighbors that invited us to dinner the day we pulled in, road weary and hungry for something besides rest stop food.

But we were hungry for connection, too. We told the families on our street immediately about Brooke. The next day, the most beautiful thing happened. Our neighbor came by with a housewarming present. It was a purple, sparkly butterfly lawn ornament.

“We want you to know that Brooke will always be part of your family,” she said. “And this butterfly represents your beautiful Brooke.”

She had no idea at the time that butterflies and purple are two symbols that we always associate with Brooke.

Last Friday I had lunch with a mom I previously only knew from an online parent support group for kids with aneurysm and AVMs. Her gift to me… another butterfly for our lawn.

People ask us if it was hard leaving our home, if we felt like we were leaving Brooke behind. It’s actually quite the opposite. As I always told both kids, “Home is where your family is.” Our family is in North Carolina now. And Brooke is most certainly with us. I’ve told people that I literally feel Brooke when I stay in the light. I feel like our family is floating in the sea of Acknowledgement, with Resilience as our life jacket. Since moving here, we’ve felt the peace of her presence, and the warmth of her light.

Butterflies are a symbol of Brooke. And this one spent about 20 minutes with us the other day. She landed on my arm first, and then flitted over to Blake’s shirt where she stayed, quite comfortably, until a gentle breeze took her up and away.

Our journey continues, as does our story. But one thing’s for sure. She’s here, there and everywhere. Because Brooke is always with us wherever we go. Forever.

Forward March

~ sandibrooke ~ 1 Comment

March, you’ve exhausted us. While you used to be a month of milestones to celebrate, you are now an annual reminder of what we’ve lost.

Our 14th Wedding Anniversary: We are still (and will remain) in the habit of marking how many years we were married by knowing Brooke arrived just one year later.

Brooke’s 13th Birthday: We went “big” this year with kindnes activities at the elementary and middle schools, random acts of kindness cards, and even a birthday gathering for her friends where we painted rocks with inspirational words and reminisced about her birthday parties. This was no birthday party, but we ate Brooke’s favorite cupcakes anyway and they tasted just as sweet as we remembered her.

My Birthday: I always told Brooke that she was my birthday present (and still is). Last year I threw lemons at our backyard retaining wall while sobbing loudly. This year I wept softly as I blew out candles on a creme brulee with my mom as well a chocolate cake baked just for me by a sweet little girl. I had lunch out with friends and enjoyed a birthday weekend of treats and shopping with Brenn and Blake. I’m finding that when I allow people into my heart, it feels a little less broken, just for a little while.

March also marks the beginning of baseball season, making it impossible to hide inside my home or car. Our Little League field is a hub of excitement, with “whole” families and pure joy. This year, I’m able to stay in the moment and enjoy the sense of community that baseball brings.

March also marked advocacy day for brain aneurysm research and, while we couldn’t make the trip to Washington, I shared a lot on social media and even made my first call to our congressman.

But March, I’m tired. I’m tired of dragging myself out of bed every morning and facing another day without Brooke. I’m tired of all the purple things we keep creating and receiving, the cards, notes, photos and other gifts that serve as constant reminders that she is no longer here. Her room is full of boxes of these things. I think that’s where they belong. And every time I put them in there, I tell her how much she is loved.

So goodbye, March. Although you’re gone for another year, we really don’t need all your milestone events to remind us about Brooke.

Because Brooke is loved forever. Because Brooke lives inside each of our hearts as we remember her sweet smile and her silly laugh. The way she sang songs just a little off key on purpose, the way she danced and twirled everywhere she went. But mostly, we just remember how Brooke made us feel. And that is something that will never leave our hearts. As we March forward, we take that with us. Always.