March is a hard month for me.

It was March 1, 2000 when I found out my sweet Grandma had cancer.
It was March 15, 2002 when I got the call that Lauren, firstborn of my best friend Jamie, had quietly slipped from this life.
It was March 16, 2001 when my dad called me and told me that my cousin Heidi had been in a car accident and was killed along with one of her twin babies, Jasmine.

And it was March 9, 2009 that we welcomed our second sweet daughter, Annie Jane into the world.  She lived six months.

When the calendar turns to January, I feel myself tensing up.  February comes and my chest tightens and I start remembering more– some good things, some not so good.  I start to notice all the four year olds around me and I try to imagine planning a party, hearing her sweet voice proudly proclaim that she will be four!  March hits me and I just want to curl up into a ball and not open the curtains until April.

Four.  Such a long time since I held her that very first time.  Since I looked into her deep blue eyes and took her in, studying her from head to toe.  Since I watched William and Kate fall in love with her. I work so very hard to remember the days she was with us, to memorize my memories and yet as each year goes by, I find it more and more difficult.

This morning I got up and decided that March may have been named for me.  Because this year, during this hard month, I’m going to MARCH through March.  I’m going to be thankful and I’m going to remember God’s grace in my life.  I’m going to claim the truth.  And I’ll probably cry a little more than usual, too.  But I’m going to MARCH.