First a disclaimer.  Nothing I write here suggests that I am closer to God than most, or doing things the 'right' way, or better than others. I'm simply sharing how I've moved through these past many months.  No doubt, my prayer life will change again, hopefully grow to be more united and reflective of His Divine Will.  I have some serious imperfections, some I see, some I don't ...but they are there.  God has been gentle with me and reveals them to me slowly ...He knows my attention span and has great patience for this flawed daughter of His.
  I talk to God all day, really. And that constant dialogue is praying without ceasing.  He is never far from my thoughts.   I will forget for a few minutes here and there, but over the years I've come to be in conversation with Him, or the Blessed Mother,or a saint all day, and throughout the night.  Every day, morning, mid-day and night, I strive to offer formal prayers, but much of the time I'm just talking, begging for guidance and grace to see it His way.  I pray for patience and gratitude constantly.  I pray my rosary everyday.  At first, I found that especially hard, I couldn't focus, stay with it.  I still struggle, but I'm noticing more consistency with it now.  I think there are people far more imbued in their faith than me.  I consider myself a simpleton in many ways, so I need to be basic in my conversation with God.  He is patient with me ...and I'm very glad about that.  Years of praying and talking to God prepared me for living a life in prayer now ...in great sadness.
    When we received the horrible phone call, I started screaming my prayers all the way home.  And when I knelt with my daughter and her lifelessness I prayed and chose in that moment to trust God with everything.  I begged Him to hold her until I could see her again, and I begged Him not to let me lose my faith, lose my way.  My faith has changed for sure, but it settles more closely with the beginning Church when the Blessed Mother walked among the apostles and they were all genuine, not competing.  They were just trying to do what Christ asked of them.  I'm not claiming I am at all like the apostles.  I'm far from that, probably holding them back ...an annoyance.  But it's where I'm most certain to find God because it keeps the confusion at bay ...and confusion doesn't come from God.
 Unending prayers of so many people have buoyed us, kept us going.  I know how hard people have prayed for us.  The Masses offered for Phoebe have been a tremendous comfort. Masses offered for me  and my family are treasured.
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  We couldn't live without them, and we pray in thanks for that everyday. We cannot know the true value of prayer in this lifetime, but as Catholics we trust our prayers are heard and answered in the way God knows best for us.  Graces come our way through prayer, our own, others for us and even those souls gone before us are petitioning for us ...storming Heaven so to speak.  Praying for our deceased is serious obligation we have, and as we model that to our own children and others, we can be assured of prayers for our own souls when we die, when we can no longer pray for ourselves.
My mantra of prayer in the early days, especially when night would hint its arrival, the time when Phoebe would typically walk through my door and drop her soccer bag and backpack and come bounding into my kitchen,  was the Memorare.  That was the darkest hour of each day for me and it would last from around four until about nine, when she would usually go to bed.  I missed her so, so badly, and my body would reabsorb the shock of that over and over during that time frame. I waited for the thud of her bag, the younger kids running to her, screaming her name, jumping at her, welcoming her home.  That ritual, so much a part of my everyday, yet taken for granted, would never be again.  I prayed my way through dinner knowing the normalcy of that for all of us was important, and the kids needed to have that regular anchor, gathering time in their day.  I still miss Phoebe, but those hours are not so painful now.  New routines and schedules have taken over those hours ...good things that are a testament to living fully, embracing a new way.  I must have said that prayer 100 to 500 times a night back then.  I was constantly saying it over and over as the despair would descend and hover for so long.  Finally, when it would lift, after dinner was served, the kitchen closed for the night, prayers said and the little one's tucked in, finally the desperation would unwrap and I could measure other thoughts and feelings entering my mind and heart.  It was such a desperate time for me, at sea, unbalanced as the rhythm I was so accustomed to with her comings and goings, was pulled out from me ...no transition, just gone.  I think I could have died, really, from the piercing heaviness of that pain ...so unspeakable.  I begged and begged the Blessed Mother to come to me ....and she did.
  I am closest to Phoebe at Mass.  I believe that.  So praying the Mass always brings me comfort.  And though I prefer the Traditional Latin Mass, I've come to thank God for any Mass, no matter how imperfect.  I want my kids to stay close to God ...and they do, but as you might imagine, they've had some big questions that simply can't be answered by reciting doctrine.  They are living out their questions and God is answering them in His own special way with each of them.  And reflecting on the doctrine is an important part too.
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Carolyn Jewel  So much discussion can be lost in memory, but doctrine can always be found again and helps us re-root ourselves in the Truth when we might straggle away.  For right now, it's good, we're on a good path.  There's lots of baloney in these parts, but I've learned to avoid the distraction and stay focused like the apostles must have.  An authentic Catholic strives to be authentic at all times, regardless of the place or the people around them.  I'm striving to be authentic, and failing miserably along the way, but trying over and over ....that's how generous God is.  He offers us a million chances in a day to reach for Him ...and re-reach when we've stumbled.
We've had some hard conversations about faith ...but very, very good ones, that have taken us beyond the words of the teachings to really striving to live them ...which I figured we were already doing a pretty good job at.  But kids ask and point out some critical and valuable things, and ask simple, but incredibly  hard questions ...and I believe children are very close to God ...so I listen to them as best I can.  My kids have taught me quite a bit about my faith ...when I thought I was teaching them.  God is good ...and amazingly generous.  In all ages, the simplicity of the younger ones, their desire to please and serve reminds me that I was created to know, love and serve God in this world, so that I might be with Him forever in the next.  It really is a simple teaching, but profound, enormous in its meaning, and even more so in the living out of it.  And the older ones, asking harder questions, challenging and pushing, force me again to claim and live my faith with more urgency and passion.  They get to see that the Truth does not change ...will not ever change because it comes from the Creator.  Culture cannot re-fashion Truth to fit and be more palatable.  My kids are figuring all that out, right along with me.
My most important prayer has been for Phoebe.  I hope and trust in God's mercy.  There is nothing like realizing the separateness of you from your child when you know your child has had their accounting with God. Phoebe had to stand before and with God and answer for her life, and sadly, her death.  She received her judgement, like we all will.   I couldn't be there for that, to advocate for her.   I'm trusting that the Blessed Mother stood with her.  I've prayed many days for the the Blessed Mother to step in for me where I fail, and I know prayers are timeless, transcend all time.  I remain Phoebe's mother, and my most important mothering for her is now.  I can give her no earthly thing, no guidance, no example, no hug.  The only thing I have for her are my prayers, my pleading her case before her Creator.  I trust His wisdom, His unending mercy and justice.  I trust Phoebe with Him ...and that might sound simplistic as in "well, of course, He is God."  But when you sit where I do, it isn't that simple ...I've wrestled with this ...I don't necessarily feel it, but I choose it ...
to believe Phoebe is safe with God.  But we must always, always pray without ceasing for each other, and most especially those who've died.  We need to get each other to Heaven, and the Church teaches that most of us don't just go straight up, as is the popular thought today.  Our own personal perfection must be attained and that's why we have the great gift of Purgatory, which grants us the grace to know we will one day be in full union with God.  But if we reject God and His ways, even at our very end ...we reject Heaven and will find ourselves in the pits of Hell forever. That's become "off limits" conversation, but like it or not, Hell is a real place and some of us will get ourselves there.  Do I worry about Phoebe's soul?  Of course.  Am I confident in God's love and mercy? Yes, I am.  It's a peculiar mix really ...to be both worried and confident.  I guess my real point is that we can never take for granted that someone just makes it to Heaven, even though that's the popular sentiment ...its just not true, though I wish it were.
I have Masses offered for Phoebe regularly, and I pray for her all the time.  She is absent from me and I picture the prayers as the bridge that will one day lead me to her.  I miss my floppy bun girl, with her moon face and her big, blue eyes.  I miss her bounce in my house and her energy that ricocheted off my walls.  I can turn my missing into a prayer too, offering that up as a means for her soul.
I pray for our friends who've been there along the way, expecting nothing from us ...which is good, since for a long time we had nothing to give, and even now we are using most of our energy to stay afloat.  Friendship that is real doesn't expect, or keep lists or logs ...it just is.  We have our turns at times of need ...and we are just living our lives together the best we can.  Some friends call me everyday, some I'll bump into on occasion, some I haven't heard from in over a year, but I know they are there, praying, loving us from their own busy lives that seek to serve God. I think of one friend in particular, far away, a full house, spanning the ages ...active, dynamic, robust in living a life in Christ.  She adored Phoebe, so appreciated her spunk, while also recognizing the challenge of that and both the tremendous potential and vulnerability it carried.  And Phoebe loved her too, and her daughters.  I know if Phoebe can find a way, she'll leave this friend a pair of indoor soccer shoes just to let her know she's around. She's had another baby, while my daughter has died.  The absence from each other, the inability to be physically present doesn't diminish our caring for each other.  That's what real Christian love is, it expands beyond the parameters of time and space.  So it's a wide range of friends that knit our lives together, but the common bond is that we don't have unreasonable expectations of each other, particularly at certain times of each others lives.
  We let each other be, offering guidance, encouragement and sometimes only silent prayers.
I pray for my children, my incredible, bright, resilient children with all sorts of personalities.  I pray they live their faith throughout their lives.  And I pray, if they don't that we've given them enough of a solid foundation to find their way back.  I pray in gratitude for them.  They never  leave my mind and heart, at no point was it only about Phoebe.  I might have been imperfect, but I was aware of where everyone was and how they were cared for. I write about Phoebe here, it's my time too, but all day we are in full swing and it is life in the fast lane most days.  This kids of mine are a great source of comfort to me ...and my living has to be about their living ...and it is.
And of course I pray for my husband.
I thank God for letting me have Phoebe for the time I did.  My girl born blue was granted seventeen plus years ...and she lived, really, really lived them.  My life could be offered purely in Thanksgiving for that gift.
I try my hardest to make all my prayer about thanking God.  That's not so easy, but eventually, I get there thanking him for even those annoying or harsh things life brings along.  Despite this great tragedy and missing, I am extraordinarily blessed with so many things.  Forgetting to be thankful always leads to a dark place.
I would not be here today if it were not for my faith and the promise it carries of eternal life..  Why would I be?  I would have followed Phoebe into the ground had I not believed in God and in all the Catholic Church teaches.  Because I do have and do live my faith ...I am following her, in a much better way, the way God wants me to. 
Pray always, make everything in life a prayer, see all things as a gift ...all things, when looked at through the lens of faith, lead us to Him.