Tonight

Oh, Lord; Oh, Lord; Oh, Lord.

Kyrie, Kyrie, Kyrie.

Everyone got home before noon today. Kyrie is in her room on Dog with That and Momma and Dadda. The arm kept going all afternoon, right now, though, it's a little harder for her to control, to move. She tried to open her good eye once this afternoon, but hasn't tried since.

We saw the MRI of her head and spine. This cancer has just taken over. The cancer cells used the cerebral fluid to travel all through her brain and up and down her spine leaving pieces of itself to grow.

She can still hear you. She's still in there. She's trying to tell you things. She felt for and found Momma's nose and honked it and then tried to find her nose. Nana curled beside her and with everything she had, Kyrie yelled, "Nana!" She keeps feeling Dadda's hair and whiskers. In one quiet moment, with just the three of them, Kyrie blew kisses to Momma and Dadda.

Her breathing is irregular and labored. Lacie & Jordan are doing everything they can do to love her to heaven, to be with her as she finds her way.

It's hard for me to type you these things because these are the most intimate moments of their/our grief, but I want you to know for whom you are praying. I want her short life to matter in a way that makes me and you different, better than we were yesterday.

Oh, Lord; Oh, Lord; Oh, Lord.

Kyrie, Kyrie, Kyrie.