January 25, 2010~

Terri Ben Ami here.

Now that the weather has (finally) calmed down (for now), I can write and try to settle my jangled up nerves.

We had some wild thunderstorms roll through here earlier this week, bringing with them, plenty of heavy rains, large hail, damaging winds, heavy, constant thunder, frequent "strobe light" lightning that was nearly constant, and even tornadoes, which is something we really don't see around this part of the country.  Tornadoes are rare here.  No significant damage to our place, thank the Lord, but we were without power until just a few days ago.  It was very scary, to say the least!

The children were absolutely terrified, almost as much as me.  Poor Wallace and Hyman were clinging to each other, crying their hearts out.  The other children were sitting underneath the stairs leading to the basement, screaming with fright.  Poor Tovah and I had a hard time trying to keep order, especially since we wre so upset about the weather ourselves.

I'm just glad that Nashi wasn't here to witness such wild weather.  When Nashi was alive, the noise of the thunder and/or the high winds made her cry; all I could do was hold her in my arms and rock her, singing all the while, until she finally drifted off to sleep.

In about a month and a half from now, it will be the first-year anniversary of Nashi's death.  As you recall from an earlier journal entry, we lost our child to Canavan disease; she was only nine years of age.  With the anniversary approaching, both Tovah and myself have been extremely emotional, much more than usual, as we think back on her life and the short time that she was with us.

Even with her obvious disabilities, Nashi was an extremely happy, loving child who loved to cuddle or be cuddled.  She loved being read or sung to, tickled, talked to, or having us play simple games with her, anything to make her laugh or smile.  She was hardly ever sad; life was nothing but one huge adventure for her, and she cherished every minute of it.

Her brothers adored her as much as she adored them.  They were usually always with her.  If they weren't playing with her or trying to make her smile or laugh, they would help us with the feedings, the diaper changes, the baths, or getting her dressed/undressed; they were very patient, loving, and gentle with their big sister.

At times, Wally and Hyman would get sad because Nashi couldn't do anything for herself.  They wanted a sister they could play or roughhouse with.  They did, however, accept her problems better than most people ever could, and Hyman was especially good at defending his sister from curious onlookers or rude people who had nothing more than to say mean or unkind things about his older sister.

Wally was a little too young to fully understand the implications of his sister's disabilities, but he loved pushing her wheelchair, brushing her hair in his clumbsy, awkward way, and help pour the liquid food down her feeding tube when it was time for her to "eat".  He loved singing silly songs to her whenever she was sick (which was often).

On March 2, 2010, the very date of her death, we will go to the cemetary where she is buried, and we will have a picnic lunch right next to her grave.  That wasy, Nashi can be with us "in spirit", and we can let her know what is going on in our lives since she died.  We will probably cry buckets of tears, but that's okay.  We are still in the grieving stage and will probably remain there for a while yet.  We are sad, yet we are glad that Nashi now lives in Heaven, where she is happy, healthy, and healed.  It will be a glad-sad day for our family.

Well, I am getting teary yet again as I think about Nashi, so I will go before I short out the computer.  Until later, take care and Yeshua bless; this is Terri Ruth Ben Ami saying so long!

~Love, Terri Ruth.  :(