This is one of the few posts I’ve scheduled. I’m getting my gall bladder yanked as you read this.
I still try to do good on the 30th, even though I’m not quite as vocal about it. I sometimes fear the do good got lost in the wear pink for Cora. I don’t want any other grieving mother to feel left out because I ask people to wear pink for Cora each month. The pink is an aside. It all started when I donated diapers the first month after she died. Someone else said they were wearing pink because it’s always been her color and the two combined. These acts of good keep me going and are so inspiring to reading so I don’t want to forget them. Ever.
I’m trying to come up with a way to develop a campaign encouraging people to do good for all the little babes taken too soon. I know all of their parents want that. The pink is like wearing a knot around your finger so you don’t forget.
This 30th, I wanted to be a bit more vocal about our act of good. It’s officially been a year since I found out I was pregnant. I miscarried the next day. Because it was the 30th, I’ll never forget the day I found out and the hope I felt that day. I still feel it. More than anything and after everything, I’m full of hope.
Every day, I think about how I can help someone else. I think that’s the key to surviving this, to know that I’m not in it alone.
Since Cora died, I started living differently. I used to worry about money and count out how much I could give and do for others. Now, I see a need and I help. And, ever since she’s died, while we’ve lived really meagerly and had moments were we didn’t know how we were going to make it, inevitably someone came through to help or send just what we needed.
For example, my flip flops broke a few weeks ago. Without even knowing, my friend from Mend Maddie’s Heart sent a pair of flip flops in the mail.
Whenever we’re wondering how we’ll pay rent or afford food, a check randomly arrives in the mail or someone writes with work they’d like me to do.
The universe has a strange way of taking care of you when you take care of other people first. I never would have been courageous enough to live like this before Cora. It’s an amazing gift.
It’s just another reason why every month I do good in her month not only all month long, but especially on the 30th. Not to get anything back, but knowing there are people out there that need Cora and I right at that moment.
This month, I can’t afford to do much and don’t even have time to give because I’m in surgery, but I can still help.
In early June, Lauren went missing. Lauren goes to my alma mater. She made a walk I made several times from a bar I used to go to sometimes. She’s also a heart baby, all grown up. She has Long QT syndrome.
This month, I’m posting about her, hoping Cora can somehow help. I know it’s a long shot, but I also know I have to take the shot. I’m asking all of you to consider posting, tweeting and facebooking about Lauren today.
If it were your daughter, wouldn’t you want everyone to help too?
Information About Lauren
Last seen wearing
White Tanktop with white top
Around the same time Lauren went missing, a Plainfield Indiana man also went missing.
Morgan Johnson is 27, black, 5 feet 8 inches tall, 155 pounds with black hair and brown eyes. He was last seen wearing blue jeans, a sweater and a black leather jacket.
He is believed to be driving a 1995 four-door white Pontiac Grand Am with Indiana license plate No. JS1830.
Lauren and Morgan have mothers that miss and love them.
Both of them need daily medication.
It’s not easy to read about stuff like this.
You never know what might help find them.
Put on that pink and tell people to study those missing poster flyers, of both Lauren, Morgan and any you see posted. If Cora taught me anything, long shots happen. You just don’t know.
Since I won’t be at a computer today, I’d love for you to hit “like” below to make sure this gets circulated on Facebook. If you’re more of a Twitter type of person, please tweet this for me.