I’m shaking my head in disbelief. Disbelief that the years have been flying by so quickly. Seven years ago today my daughter was born.

I’ll never forget the emotion that overtakes you the moment that bundle of joy bursts forth into this world. As first time parents you suddenly have another person to take care of & guide into adulthood.

The road ahead seems so long from that moment, but as reality sets in it proves to be a mere blink of the eye.  You look back and see where you’ve been & what you’ve been through and can recount where the time went and how those hair changes and wrinkles came to be.

But you wouldn’t trade any of it, regardless how difficult certain aspects may have been.  We’re family, and thick or thin, we’re all in it together.

So as I wish my baby girl a happy seventh birthday, here’s to hoping that what the future holds is bright and that daddy does his very best to guide you along the way.

Tonight we finished off the Christmas box of petits fours and asked our four year old (aka “The Candy Ninja”) to throw the box away.  As soon as we did I knew what would happen next.  He quickly grabbed the box, looked over his should back at us, then opened the box to make sure mommy & daddy weren’t having him throw away perfectly good candy. Too funny.

My new matra for life is: “Live. Love. Laugh. Cry. C’est la vie.”

Anyone who knows me knows that I’ve never been one to just up and follow the crowd without having a good reason to do so.  And for the most part I’ve always been a pretty laid back guy, rarely getting fired up over whatever it is that the masses are clamoring to and ranting about (unless of course it’s football, which is another story). I’ve always been one to try new things and to offer up a good laugh by throwing in a one-liner here and there.  I may not be the type to wear my emotions on my sleeve, but I am man enough to cry when needed and will do my best to comfort family & friends in their time of need (and please don’t slug me if I try to make you laugh during the hard times).

That said, after having lost two children, my perspective on life has changed a bit.  Not in the sense that who I am has changed, but in the sense that my perspective on the timing of life has changed.

What I’ve always heard, but was just not very clear until now, is that we’re not promised today, let alone tomorrow.  I have dreams and goals. There are things that I want to do before my time on earth is through. Things that in my mind I have plenty of time to do before I go. But the truth be told, there’s a chance that I might not be here an hour from now.

All of that to say, my approach to life is to get out there and run with it while I still can.  If there’s something that I’m putting off until I reach a certain point, until I have a certain amount of money, until my children are a certain age, etc., then, God willing, I’m going to do my best to achieve those things sooner rather than later.

And recently that has started to be put into action.

I’ve been traveling more lately, even if the locales are not foreign to me.  Next on my list is to get a passport and find somewhere to go that we can afford (one of my sons wants to go to Mexico, so maybe that will be it).

And the biggest leap of faith that I’ve taken recently is signing a lease agreement for office space for my businesses.  To be completely honest, that scares me a bit given the nature of my business(es), and rightfully so.  And I may be just a little too laid back to recognize the enormity of that…luckily I have a better half to help me watch over that.  But I’m locked in to at least try it out for a year.  If it ends up looking like it’s not going to work out in the long run, so be it, but at least I tried and will have learned something from it.  But if it works out, I’ll be ecstatic.  As the saying goes, “it’s better to have tried and failed than to not have tried at all.”

It has been one year today since I posted anything at all to this blog and today I’ll begin to break the silence.

These past two years have been a conflict of emotions beyond belief.  On one hand things seem to be going pretty well and I should be a happy guy, but on the other hand things have been utter hell, and that’s putting it nicely.

To recap, On April 4th, 2008 we lost our son, Felix David Groce, stillborn with a suspected cord accident. To say that it hurt, and it still does, would be an understatement.  After a gloomy year that I’d rather not relive, and honestly wished it was all just a bad dream, things seemed to be getting better (you never “get over” the loss of a child, so throw that notion out of the window right now).  I felt like doing stuff again. I got some creativity back. Work was going well (and my clients were/are amazing). And we were pregnant again with child #5. Things were starting to look up.

Then in June 2009 we went in for the first ultrasound and got hit by a freight train.  Our fifth child, and fourth son, Gabriel Elliott Groce, was diagnosed with a “universally fatal” birth defect known as Limb-Body Wall Complex. Long story short, we opted to carry him to term and did everything in our power to save him. We prayed and prayed and prayed for a miracle, but that miracle never came and he was born on October 19th, 2009 and my beautiful son died in my arms half an hour later.

Within the span of 18 months we had lost and buried two children.  This just isn’t how it’s supposed to be. But this is how it is.  And one of the hardest parts of all is the fact that short of taking ourselves out of the gene pool, there isn’t a thing that could have been done to change these circumstances. This is the hand that we were dealt and the river had already been turned. The only viable option is to play it out and hope that somehow the pair of two’s we are holding comes out on top.

There are so many dynamics to this whole situation that I could write a book on them. (And I just might.) But for today this will have to suffice as I gather my thoughts.  The story will be told, so stay tuned.

[Unreleased]

Well I don’t know too much about women
I couldn’t tell you how to sew a button on
My dad he never taught me how to fistfight
I don’t know who took the Series in ‘61

I don’t know how to paint like Picasso
No one ever showed me how to dance
Sometimes I don’t know where I’m going
Sometimes I don’t even know where I am

As for me I’m just a simple man
Some say maybe even worse
I thank the Lord that I can understand some things I’ve come to learn

Because I know that the laughter is heard farther than the weeping
Every broken heart will be bound
And I know that every tongue will sing His praises
I know that every knee will surely bow

So strengthen the hands that are feeble
Steady the knees that are week
Because the eyes of the blind will see His glory
I know that the lame ones will leap

What I don’t know seems like a lot
But compared to what I got
It’s nothing that I’ll ever need to know

And I don’t know how to change a baby’s diaper
I’m pretty sure I never want to try
I don’t know too much about automobiles
I’m pretty sure I could change a flat tire

I don’t remember much about algebra
And I’m not too good at ironing my clothes
I’m still trying to understand yesterday
I don’t know how tomorrow’s going to go

As for me I’m just a simple man
I’ll admit that there’s a lot that I don’t know
I thank the Lord that the promises I’m singing aren’t my own

Because I know that the water will gush forth in the wilderness
The thirst of the sand will be quenched by the springs
The ransomed of the Lord will come running
I know that we will stand with the redeemed

We will enter the city with rejoicing
We will sing on that glorious day
And let gladness and joy overtake us
While the sorrows and the sighs flee away
Let the sorrows and the sighs just flee away

What I don’t know seems like a lot
But compared to what I’ve got
It’s nothing that I’ll every need to know