Tuesday, June 28

Daddy's Special Day

It was a week ago today. Two days after Father's day, nearly a week after he'd passed. A week that was full of meeting with the funeral director, choosing flowers, ordering a casket, endless phone calls, picking out music, typing up the program, sorting through thousands and thousands of photos that told the story of our love and life together. My sweetheart. So much heartache, so many mixed emotions. It still doesn't feel real.
Much love to my dear friends Tracy Layne and Justin Hackworth for taking beautiful photos on the day, that my children and I will keep close to our hearts forever. I'm sharing a few from Tracy today to honor the anniversary, to help me accept a bit more, and to encourage you to hold onto your loved ones a bit tighter. 
If you're not in the mood for a heavy picture story, or if you feel uncomfortable viewing and reading more details of my husband's funeral, feel free to click away, but please come back later. ♡ 

Thank heaven for me sweet children. Just as they have kept me smiling every day through the hardest months of my life, trying to put our situation into words that they can understand has helped me understand it more myself.

Trying to explain to my little 6-year-old Ellie that everyone we loved was going to get together for a special day for daddy, that there was going to be lots of hugs and tears because we all missed him so much, helped me prepare for it myself.
Telling my innocent 5-year-old Sophie that we were going to be seeing daddy's body for the last time, that it was okay to be sad for ourselves but that we should be happy for daddy, helped me to acknowledge those things as well.
Finding the words for John, my 4-year-old, that daddy's body was in that beautiful box, that it would keep his body safe in the ground, and that he wasn't sick or hurting anymore, helped me to accept those things a bit more too.
And telling my sweet 2-year-old Lydia, to say "goodbye daddy, see you soon." while we laid our hands on Martin's casket, solidified in my mind a beautiful picture of our family all together again one day, and I could close my eyes and almost feel his warmth and hear their sweet giggles.

It doesn't matter what you believe in, but at the end of all things life is so precious, people are important, and what matters the most is love. Telling my sweet children that I know, that the love they have for their dad, and the incredible love that he has for them is strong enough to keep them connected forever and ever, and that they'll see him again one day... That's the only thing that can make them smile again, and give them hope to keep going.

And telling them that every day helps me to hope too, and to smile, and to keep going.

I miss you so much, Martin.

Thursday, June 16

Goodbye My Love


Yesterday morning while the sun was shining, I held Martin's hand as he took his last breath and slipped quietly into eternity. The heartbreak I feel is far more crippling than I ever imagined, but more powerful still is the happiness from knowing he has finally found peace from his pain, that he's walking with angels, and that we will be together again one day.

'But they that wait upon the lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.' - Isaiah 40:31

Until we meet again, I miss you my sweetheart. 

Wednesday, June 15

Favorite Place

I thought I'd take a minute, since Marty is still sleeping peacefully and the house is quiet. My absence has been mostly due of course to spending every possible moment with/taking care of my sweet sweetheart, but also a big part of it has been that I've had absolutely no words to properly express my gratitude. Literally thousands of comments, emails, messages, texts, shares, donations, services, food, etc. All you wonderful friends and strangers alike, rallying together in support of our little fox family, spreading our story and plight all over the world with such beautiful words and so much raw emotion. I feel unspeakably blessed to have you all.  Now I'll go climb back in beside my prince♡♡♡. || #favoriteplace #savoreachmoment #HopeForMartin #faithoverfear #cancerawareness #mywarrior #fatheroffive #familiesareforever
A photo posted by Emily Meyers (@thefreckledfox) on

Friday, June 3

Deep Breaths

Picture from January via inframesphotography

It feels like I've been trying to write this update for ages, but it's only been about a week now since we sat together in that hospital room, with Martin on the bed and I at his side, holding his hand tightly in mine. A dozen doctors and nurses from his oncology team were standing around that little room with their clipboards. Our main doctor sat on the bed beside me as I looked at Martin's scans and tried to understand what she was saying to us. Some of the charts were just big blurry masses where we should have been able to see his different organs, and she was explaining how the disease was moving so quickly and completely taking over. I could feel my heart getting heavier with every word of her explanation. Then she took a deep breath and said those words so apologetically, "I mean we're talking a few weeks here, maybe."

I can't even explain what that felt like. All I know is that I was holding his warm hand, and I saw our five little babies in my mind, and I knew that no matter what happened to Marty that we would all be together. That our family was forever, and that everything would be OK, no matter what.

Once they were gone, Marty and I just looked at each other for a while in silence. I saw so many different memories in his beautiful eyes, and so many different emotions flooded through me as I thought back on our short-but full-life together so far. We talked about things that I'll keep to myself, but then once he was asleep I left the room and made a few calls. The doctors were stopping all treatment of Martin's cancer and moving us upstairs to palliative care so that simply managing Martin's pain, and getting us back to our children could become the top priority. They sent people to help arrange a life-flight to take us home, as well as to help set up hospice care to meet us once we arrived.

So, I don't really know how to describe what I'm thinking or where my mind is, as every emotion is kindof blended together lately. What I usually say to people is that I've been at this for over a year already, which in itself has been a blessing. There's been so many different feelings in our house this past week though. So much paperwork, so many caring visitors, so much thinking and planning and praying. There's also been no shortage of treats delivered, hugs given, and hope. Always hope.

So, thank you for your never-ending love and positivity. I feel so incredibly lucky and blessed to have so many angels behind us through this whole last year. Every time I got online this last week especially and saw sweet comments from so so many of you, encouraging me to update, sharing our story, spreading our fundraiser, sending messages of hope and concern and understanding, or ways in which our ordeal has helped or changed you in some positive way. That's what's kept my head up through all of this, and that's what's going to keep me going no matter what may happen to my sweetheart or to my family.

So much love for you all,