December 19, 2013, we moved to Independence. I was six months pregnant with my Michael. It was wonderful being pregnant during the move because I truly didn’t lift a finger.
Prior to that pregnancy, we had lost three babies very early on- with this miracle pregnancy, Matt wasn’t about to let me take any risks. We ended up losing four little angels, total. I’ve never spoken publicly about this because it was a pain too great to touch. As a mother of loss, you become part of this underground ‘club’ with other mothers’ of loss. A club no one ever knows about until you’re in it. It’s much like the ‘young widow’s club.’ Fortunately and unfortunately, I, again, have an amazing couple of women who when we see each other, we give a look that only we can see and understand. A look of, you’re doing it, Mama. You’re here, and that’s huge. An ‘I get it,’ look. A look of adoration for the strength we know each of us possess to continue moving forward for ourselves and our children. None of us would’ve chosen to enter this club- but how blessed we are to have each other.
We had a screened in porch on the back of the house, which is really what sold Matt. It was convenient, also, to put the boxes out there as it was the dead of winter and it was covered to avoid the snow. It was the perfect starter home in the city we wanted to raise our children in. Late night, Matt ran to the old house to grab more boxes, so I stood on the porch while our late Dolly Madison played in the snow. I heard the most beautiful sound. Church bells. But not really bells- it was soft church-like music. The peace I felt in that moment was like no other. I was pregnant with our miracle child, moving into our dream home, had the perfect little Dolly playing in the snow- so I called Matt to tell him that having a church so close to bring that kind of peace was the cherry on the dream-come-true cake. He was so happy- we were so happy.
He came home a short time later and I went back on the porch to watch him bring more boxes in. I was sitting on a chair as we were talking about the beauty of the sound I heard. A minute later, I heard the music again. I look over at Matt to see if he heard what I did, to find him running his hand along the wind chime the previous owners left hanging there. He says, ‘is this the church music you heard?’
🤦🏽♀️ It was. Oh my, we laughed about that until he died. There wasn’t a church nearby. Just the wind chime. What a beautiful sound it was!
I was working in the yard yesterday afternoon with Madden and Macon. The neighbors across the street often play music that sounds much like the wind chimes I heard that night. It’s beautiful and peaceful and relaxing. I’ve often wondered if they have speakers outside. Yesterday I noticed for the first time my dear neighbor playing his keyboard in the garage. It was the most beautiful sound. Brought so much peace to my heart and soul. Brought me back to the night we moved into that house and the serenity I felt in those moments. It was a beautiful, full circle moment and I felt like Matt was right there beside me hearing it, too.
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