A Good Way to Explain It

This was something someone posted on their Facebook page. It's really accurate.

Someone on redditt wrote the following heartfelt plea online: "My friend just died. I don't know what to do."

A lot of people responded. Then there's one old guy's incredible comment that stood out from the rest that might just change the way we approach life and death:

"Alright, here goes. I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people I've known and loved did not. I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents.

"I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter." I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.

"As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.

"In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.

"Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.

"Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.

Last night at the Johnsons'

Last night the Johnsons had a get-together since the Laws are leaving this week. It was fun being over there-it had been sooo long! It wasn't too weird that you weren't there-I'm unfortunately getting used to that.

The adults went outside to eat and when I was looking in their yard, I noticed my "missing" blue chairs in their yard, underneath the clubhouse! I had given the other 4 to Jordan at one point and couldn't figure out how I lost the other 2! Apparently, you used them for props in a movie at one point and never brought them back home. I thought it was kind of cute. Everyone was getting mad at me (in our family) for wanting to bring them home for some reason. I decided I would check with Jordan and see if he wanted the other 2 and then get them back. I want them back either way though. I took that as a little sign/reminder of you.

Later on, someone (I think it was Mrs. Johnson) noticed a toad hopping out of the grass onto the patio. Then someone else saw a bigger toad by the hot tub. I think toads are a sign from you too since the toad that was in the house at Halloween, the toad at your grave, and the toad by the side door one morning that I wouldn't have noticed if it hadn't rustled around at the right time. I think you decided on toads because they are common but not too common to see. Thank you for that-I know you were there with us in spirit. You had so many good times there with Ethan and the Johnson family. They had your service program on their piano along with the thank-you card you wrote them from your graduation party. (I am so glad you did those last summer-one last personal message to those you loved).

I can't get over how tiny Ethan is. I remember when he towered over you. That means you must have been really small. Cutie pie! I called Carter that this morning and he pretty much glared at me. I guess boys don't like that. Sorry!

Anyway, I am thankful for that group of kids and for all of the fun you had together. It was nice to hear the group of them laughing and having fun playing games again. Love you!

Nothing Compared to the Coming Glory

This was on the #OCA Facebook page which is very encouraging, especially since it doesn't claim to be Christian necessarily, even though a lot of their stuff is. I shared it on my page today. I later noticed in the background picture there is a young man standing off to the side. It looks a little like you except it looks like he has glasses on. But his shoes look like your black Nike shoes with the white on the bottom and he has a hoodie and jeans on and is standing like you. Here is the verse:

I believe that the present suffering is nothing compared to the coming glory that is going to be revealed to us. The whole creation waits breathless with anticipation for the revelation of God's sons and daughters.  (Romans 8: 18-19)

I also wanted to record that we met with Robby C. today for his internship at Northwestern Mutual which does retirement planning and life insurance. I kept looking at his face because he has the same bone structure as you. It was weird looking at him because his face was shiny and tan and it looked like your face did in your box. I don't know why I couldn't compare it to your face when you were alive. Maybe because his face looked smooth and shiny. I don't know. Love you boy!

Chippewa Athletic Club

On the way to Carter's Dr. appt. the other day we passed Chippewa Athletic Club. I'm surprised I never noticed it before. It's funny that I remembered the name of that club where the clinics were that week but not Liberty. Maybe God protected me from remembering that at first so I wouldn't freak out earlier than necessary when I tracked down the accident on Wagner Rd. when we couldn't find you that day. I would like to think that. We serve an amazing God. Love you!

Momentary Affliction

Becky Monty had this on her Facebook page, and I recognized the words from a music video she tagged us in a while back. They are very powerful and encouraging words. I'm glad to have them. The words were written by John Piper.

Not only is all your affliction momentary, not only is all your affliction light in comparison to eternity and the glory there. But all of it is totally meaningful. Every millisecond of your pain, from the fallen nature or fallen man, every millisecond of your misery in the path of obedience is producing a peculiar glory you will get because of that.

I don't care if it was cancer or criticism. I don't care if it was slander or sickness. It wasn't meaningless! It's doing something! It's not meaningless. Of course you can't see what it's doing. Don't look to what's seen.

When your mom dies, WHEN YOUR KID DIES, when you've got cancer at 40, when a car careens into the sidewalk and takes her out, don't say: "That's meaningless!" It's not. It's working for you an eternal weight of glory.

Therefore, therefore, do not lose heart. But takes these truths and day by day, focus on them. Preach them to yourself every morning. Get alone with God and preach his words into your mind until your heart sings with confidence that you are new and cared for.

Amen! Love you!

Nobody can help me

The more I talk to my parents and other people about "things", the more I realize that no one is equipped to help me with my problem of losing Hayden. My dad is pretty much unapproachable about the subject. I was talking to my mom about it yesterday and she said "I guess I didn't pray hard enough for a miracle." I said, "I don't think that's how it works or nobody would die." She agreed with that, but that's scary that she had that thought in the first place.

Pastor doesn't know how to help my aching soul. He refers to his grandma dying, but that is nothing like losing a child. He has a lot of book knowledge about the topic, but I think this caught him off guard too. Bill is not helpful to me at all.

Nance is helpful in that we experience the same feelings, but she still has all three of her children. The only person who I can say has been really helpful who hasn't lost a child is Rod. He lost his dad and he was bold enough to come right up and sit with me at the football thing and talk to me about his experiences and how important it is to take one day a time. That's very simple advice, but is a good reminder otherwise it's easy to get overwhelmed with everything I will miss without Hayden here, etc.

Of course, the other mothers who have lost children are very helpful, namely, Jeanette Brenner and Mary Ledford. There are still some things though that I have told them that they didn't know. Ele's Place is ok, but most of the stuff we talk about there makes me cry even more. I know I have a good, good Father who knows all and helps me through anything and everything, but I sometimes wish for someone else on this earth who could be there for me and be some sort of mentor or support who can tell me ways of looking at this that I have never thought of, from their own experience or just because they are really insightful and caring. Maybe that will come if I can track down some kind of Christian grief counselor. Lord, please help me with this! Give Hayden a kiss for me please!

Almost forgot-Todd Borek has been a great deal of help when I see him.

Life-affirming words from A.W. Tozer

A real Christian is an odd number, anyway. He feels supreme love for One whom he has never seen; talks familiarly every day to Someone he cannot see; expects to go to heaven on the virtue of Another; empties himself in order to be full; admits he is wrong so he can be declared right; goes down in order to get up; is strongest when he is weakest; richest when he is poorest, and happiest when he feels the worst. He dies so he can live; forsakes in order to have; gives away so he can keep; sees the invisible, hears the inaudible; and knows that which passeth knowledge.

Wow! Thank you Lord! The hymn "Til We Meet Again" is playing on Pandora. I know that's from Hayden because I have never noticed it playing on Pandora before and I just wrote about it last week about the amazing words, like it's being told to us from someone who is already in heaven, knowing that the next time we will meet will be at Jesus' feet!

In the McDonald's drive-thru line this morning (of all places!) I actually imagined what it would be like to be with you again, sweet boy, and hearing all that you have been up to. The best part was realizing that this will actually happen someday. Can't wait boy! Love you so much!

More amazing quotes from A.W. Tozer

Our Lord is more than able to take care of us and our past. He pardons instantly and forgives completely, and His blood makes us worthy.

Christ dazzles me and stirs within me such feelings of amazement that I can never get over Him.

Letting Go

This concept came up in one of my evening readings in a grief book I have. I don't really know what it means to "let go" when it comes to you. I asked a few people over the weekend and they didn't know either. It's something I will have to think on.

The passage I read implied that if we don't let go that our departed one would not be fully free, that it ties them to us to make sure we are going to be alright. Here's a poem that was in a funeral bulletin:

 

When I come to the end of the day

And the sun has set for me

I want no rites in a gloom-filled room.

Why cry for a soul set free?

 

Miss me a little, but not too long

And not with your head bowed low.

Remember the love we once shared-

Miss me, but let me go.

For this is a journey we all must take

And each must go alone.

It's all a part of the Maker's plan,

A step on the road to home.

When you are lonely and sick at heart

Go to the friends we know, & bury your sorrow

In doing good deeds-

Miss me, but let me go.

 

 

When I first was contemplating the concept, it made me extremely sad. I will have to get back to you on this. Love you!

How Not To Say The Wrong Thing

This was an article on the Facebook page, #OCA. It's an excellent guide. I'm trying to decide if I want to write the whole thing down or excerpts.

When Susan had breast cancer, we heard a lot of lame remarks, but our favorite came from one of Susan's colleagues. She wanted, she needed, to visit Susan after the surgery, but Susan didn't feel like having visitors, and she said so. Her colleague's response? "This isn't just about you."

"It's not?" Susan wondered. "My breast cancer is not about me? It's about you?"

The same theme came up again when our friend Katie had a brain aneurysm. She was in intensive care for a long time and finally got out and into a step-down unit. She was no longer covered with tubes and lines and monitors, but she was still in rough shape. A friend came and saw her and then stepped into the hall with Katie's husband, Pat. "I wasn't prepared for this," she told him. "I don't know if I can handle it."

This woman loves Katie, and she said what she did because the sight of Katie in this condition moved her so deeply. But it was the wrong thing to say. And it was wrong in the same way Susan's colleague's remark was wrong.

Susan has since developed a simple technique to help people avoid this mistake. It works for all kinds of crises: medical, legal, financial, romantic, even existential. She calls it the Ring Theory.

Draw a circle. This is the center ring. In it, put the name of the person at the center of the current trauma. For Katie's aneurysm, that's Katie. Now draw a larger circle around the first one. In that ring put the name of the person next closest to the trauma. In the case of Katie's aneurysm. that was Katie's husband, Pat. Repeat the process as many times as you need to. In each larger ring put the next closest people. Parents and children before more distant relatives. Intimate friends in smaller rings, less intimate friends in larger ones. When you are done you have a Kvetching Order. One of Susan's patients found it useful to tape it to her refrigerator.

Here are the rules. The person in the center ring can say anything she wants to anyone, anywhere. She can kvetch and complain and whine and moan and curse the heavens and say, "Life is unfair" and "Why me?" That's the one payoff for being in the center ring.

Everyone else can say those things too, but only to people in larger rings.

When you are talking to a person in a ring smaller than yours, someone closer to the center of the crisis, the goal is to help. Listening is often more helpful than talking. But if you're going to open your mouth, ask yourself if what you are about to say is likely to provide comfort and support. If it doesn't, don't say it. Don't, for example, give advice. People who are suffering from trauma don't need advice. They need comfort and support. So say, "I'm sorry" or "This must really be hard for you" or
"Can I bring you a pot roast?" Don't say, "You should hear what happened to me" or "Here's what I would do if I were you." And don't say, "This is really bringing me down."

If you want to scream or cry or complain, if you want to tell someone how shocked you are or how icky you feel, or whine about how it reminds you of all the terrible things that have happened to you lately, that's fine. It's a perfectly normal response. Just do it to someone in a bigger ring.

Comfort IN, dump OUT.

There was nothing wrong with Katie's friend saying she was not prepared for how horrible Katie looked, or even that she didn't think she could handle it. The mistake was that she said those things to Pat. She dumped IN.

Complaining to someone in a smaller ring than you doesn't do either of you any good. On the other hand, being supportive to her principal caregiver may be the best thing you can do for the patient.

Most of us know this. Almost nobody would complain to the patient about how rotten she looks. Almost no one would say that looking at her makes them think of the fragility of life and their own closeness to death. In other words, we know enough not to dump into the center ring. Ring Theory merely expands that intuition and makes it more concrete: Don't just avoid dumping into the center ring, avoid dumping into any ring smaller than your own.

Remember, you can say whatever you want if you just wait until you're talking to someone in a larger ring than yours.

(Maybe the most powerful sentence of this article):
And don't worry. You'll get your turn in the center ring. You can count on that.

Three times

I chose a different title for the "People riding bikes" post (already forgot the actual title) because it was "Bikers" before which seemed like motorcycles. The post copied itself three times for some reason and I had to delete two of them. I just wanted to record that for some reason. Love you!

When I came back to the blog, that "People riding bikes" post still had a check mark next to it (the one that was left). Just sayin'. Love you!

Thy Will Be Done

This is a song by Hillary Scott who is part of Lady Antebellum. She had a miscarriage which inspired this song. It is beautiful.

 

 

Thy Will

 

I'm so confused

I know I heard You loud and clear

So, I followed through

Somehow I ended up here

I don't wanna think

I may never understand

That my broken heart is a part of Your plan

When I try to pray

All I've got is hurt and these four words

 

Thy will be done

Thy will be done

Thy will be done

 

I know You're good

But this don't feel good right now

And I know You think

Of things I could never think about

It's hard to count it all joy

Distracted by the noise

Just trying to make sense

Of all Your promises

Sometimes I gotta stop

Remember that You're God

And I am not

So

 

Thy will be done

Thy will be done

Thy will be done

 

Thy will be done

Like a child on my knees all that comes to me is

Thy will be done

Thy will be done

Thy will

 

I know You see me

I know You hear me, Lord

Your plans are for me

Goodness you have in store

I know You hear me

I know You see me, Lord

Your plans are for me

Goodness you have in store

So

 

Thy will be done

Thy will be done

Thy will be done

Like a child on my knees all that comes to me is

Thy will be done

Thy will be done

Thy will be done

 

I know You see me

I know You hear me, Lord

Shooting star

Last night Hope was sitting outside listening to music on the hammock in the backyard. She said she was listening to songs you guys liked and thinking about you and she saw a shooting star. When she told me that, she was tearing up. I know that was you! You love your Hopie girl! Love you so much!

People riding bikes

Once when I was driving on Wagner Rd. I noticed a lot of separate, random bikers (not in a pack). When you have to go around a biker it's annoying because you have to get pretty far over to clear them and risk crossing the center line into oncoming traffic.

When I saw all the bikers that one time, I was surprised that anyone would feel comfortable on that road when it's dangerous anyway. I wonder if you were trying to get around a biker and were too far over when the truck was coming.

I still think you would have to have been alert to notice the other car getting out of your way and would have reacted to the truck coming if you could have which there is no evidence of, which still supports my passing out theory. Oh, dear boy, will we ever know this side of Heaven? Miss you and love you so much!

Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall

This is a song by Coldplay which has a good beat, but when I looked up the lyrics they didn't really apply. I like that title though. That sums a lot up. Love you!

Cops make me jiggy

This has always been the case when I see a cop pull up in front of the office, that I get scared they have bad news for me, but of course it's heightened since it actually happened. Usually if they pull up in front of the office they keep walking uptown, but today Officer Dave decided to come in and give me a heart attack. He was just coming in to say hi, but those same horrible feelings came rushing back the day the officers came to the door at home to take us to the hospital after your accident. It's amazing how it takes me right back. Horrifying.

A.W. Tozer is amazing

Here are some more great quotes from A.W. Tozer:

If you really want to be everything God wants you to be, then go straight to Jesus.

While it looks like things are out of control, behind the scenes there is a God who hasn't surrendered His authority.

God is Good

Quotes from online:

God answers our prayers, not because we are good, but because He is good.  -A.W. Tozer


The more highly we think of ourselves and our abilities and our talents, the less God can use us.
-A.W. Tozer

June 22

This was on the Max Lucado daily calendar we have today. They are all good, but this one stood out:

We must let God define good. Our definition includes health, comfort, and recognition. His definition? In the case of His Son, Jesus Christ, the good life consisted of struggles, storms, and death. But God worked it all together for the greatest of good: His glory and our salvation.

Love you boy!

God Be with You till We Meet Again

This is a lovely hymn and it was just playing this morning, so I thought I would record the words


God be with you till we meet again;
By his counsels guide, uphold you,
With his sheep securely fold you;
God be with you till we meet again.

Till we meet, till we meet,
Till we meet at Jesus' feet
Till we meet, till we meet
God be with you till we meet again.

God be with you till we meet again;
Neath his wings securely hide you,
Daily manna still provide you;
God be with you till we meet again.

(Refrain)

God be with you till we meet again;
When life's perils thick confound you;
Put his arms unfailing round you;
God be with you till we meet again.

(Refrain)

God be with you till we meet again;
Keep love's banner floating o'er you,
Smite death's threatening wave before you;
God be with you till we meet again.

(Refrain)

(Personal note: This hymn is intriguing in that it seems to know that the next time the two will meet will be at Jesus' feet, implying that one of them is already with the Lord. Is the person "singing" it already gone and sending well wishes to the one still here?)

Still Hope

From the #OCA series. This one is by Trish Thomas.

Our moments have great power and possibility. They can discourage us, destroy us, deliver us, or drive us. My most defining moment yet came twelve years ago when an out of control car slammed into my own. In the most desperate moment of my life, I experienced the greatest peace. As I saw the vehicle coming before me, the gentle, warm hands of Jesus came from behind me and covered my eyes. To this day, those moments evade my memory. Once all the dust and air bags had settled, His hands came away. That next moment left me breathless and broken. I was in severe pain and trapped in my destroyed car, alone and in agony. Yet, somehow, this was the most serene time of my life. Unsure of my future and my survival, all I had was God. I pleaded with him to protect and draw near to whoever else was in this accident, to bring someone to help us and to please, please protect the beloved baby in my womb.

I was rushed to the hospital. I sustained serious internal abdominal injuries and my strength was quickly dissipating. I was bleeding to death. I begged to know if my baby was still alive. Finally, they showed us. It was a he, tiny and curled up in a ball, obviously so distressed and hurt. I was taken into surgery immediately. I had a broken collarbone, split abdominal muscles, a severed uterus and a ruptured spleen, which was removed and scars all over my body. I woke up hours later and caught the empty, distant and desperate gaze of my husband. No words were needed. We wept together till the tears no longer fell. Our baby died.

Despite his lifeless body, this tiny human was truly incredible. Through it all, one thing sustained us-Jesus. No amount of strength or pride or courage could have ever carried us. We were in every way, exhausted. But He was not. He was just beginning to show but a snippet of the beauty our son's ashes would create.

Even though I could barely move or walk, or at times have the courage to breathe, somehow I needed to birth our son a few days later. I never could have prepared myself for the perfection I would soon see. He was complete, lacking nothing and already holding recognizable traits of his parents and big sister. Watching the nurse take his body away to the morgue was excruciating. Again, we lost him.

Altogether, I spent ten days I the hospital. My husband kept our family and friends up to date by Facebook. And remarkably and unexpectedly, something powerful began to rise. A community much
bigger than our own stepped up, faithfully praying, generously giving and sharing our story over and over, and so much so that it went to other countries. God was encouraging others and showing them his heart and strength in our pain and weakness. We were coming alive.

Though our hearts were broken, our faith was not. We didn't have a chance. We lost (Hayden) but got more of God. When your creator intercedes in your greatest fear, gives you the strength to show love and compassion to the person whose actions took your child's life, and gives you the courage to breathe even when that seems unbearable, you have no other arms to run to. We saw the hand of Jesus come again, and his spirit stirred within our own family, pulling them back to his heart. My in-laws gave their lives to Christ at our church the weekend I got out of the hospital. Out of the brokem vessels of our lives, Jesus has shone. We just kept saying yes and leaning in to him, and from that, profoundly beautiful things have come to be.

So while I am no longer bruised, but scarred; and no longer 35 weeks pregnant but empty; it is well with my soul. I have learned more about God in my deepest pain than I could have ever learned when life was sweet. I have never thirsted for him, for heaven or for goodness, like I do now, and I have never been so passionate about something as I am now.

Because of my stillborn son and my miscarried daughter, I am a bereaved parent. I am in a hurt and unwanted group I have never planned to be a part of, but I am better for it. For with our pain came an empathy, an understanding and an ability to not just look at others, but to see them. We are deeply motivated to speak about our losses and not to be ashamed by them, but be proud of our children and stand undaunted by their deaths. I am in the process of organizing the first Australian walk of remembrance through Bears of Hope to honour and support bereaved parents. We are raising money, awareness, support and our voices to the bereaved to encourage everyone to always still hope, even in the hardest of seasons, to always cling to Jesus.

As one stranger wrote to me, "If the purpose of life is to bring glory to God, then your son has done it perfectly without taking a single breath." Out of the ashes, the worst seasons of our lives, the hopeless, the desperate and the agonizing days, goodness can grow and yield a great hope. The night is always darkest before the sun rises.

I've not yet had a day when I haven't thought of my babies. But in that same moment, there's never been a time when I haven't clung onto hope, which anchors my soul. I will forever still hope.

Christina Grimmie

This name probably doesn't mean anything to you and I might forget too because I don't watch The Voice but she was a young lady killed by a stalker/fan recently. She was a Christian and here is an article written about her:

 

 

Christina Grimmie's Parents Have Something To Say About God at Her Memorial Service

 

 

 

"I don't have much to say," said Christina Grimmie's mother during her memorial service before breaking down in tears.

 

I think that's how the world feels.

 

"To anybody who says that I'm strong, I want you to know that I'm the weakest person here and I declare my dependence on Jesus Christ because I don't have anything else. It's just so much."

 

Because of her death, so many people are just learning of the incredible woman that is Christina Grimmie. Her parents already knew the gravity of what this world has lost.

 

"I don't like being in front of crowds, but this crowd has blessed me beyond words," her father said during the service. "I want to share what I've shared with several people her and that there's this gigantic hole in my heart that I know is never going to go away."

 

But then he added what is probably the most powerful sentence you can say in the face of disaster,"God showed me that he's way bigger than that hole."

 

"The three things that keep me walking upright, otherwise I would just be a crumpled up mess in the corner, are that I know I'm going to see her again...she's way better off now, she's more alive now than she's ever been, she's not going to be hurt anymore, and thirdly, this is where I'm wrestling, is that God's plan is better than my plan," he said.

 

Marcus, Grimmie's brother, was the one to tackle the shooter after he fatally shot the singer. Marcus was at a loss for words but still managed to make this powerful statement during the service. "I don't have anything to say, I don't have words still and it's a good and bad thing. All I'm going to say is thank God for the mark that she left on this world."

 

(other words)

 

I remember watching her on The Voice and everyone went nuts with how talented she was and all I could think was how her voice was the least of her gifts, and that says a lot.

 

Please don't let this remembering be a fad. Please continue to watch and share her videos. The girl was given a gift and while many use their talents to bless themselves she used that gift to love others.

 



 



Liberty Athletic Club

Today I had to drive Carter to Skyline for WWP. You know that there's pretty much only one way to get there. Anyway, on my way home I stopped to get lunch on Stadium and then took Liberty to get back to Wagner Rd.

While on Liberty, I noticed the Liberty Athletic Club where you were headed to the day of your accident. I always imagined it further down on the other side of Stadium for some reason, but I noticed it for the first time ever today. It's amazing how close you were to getting there that day.

On the way there too, I was thinking about how many times you have traveled down that road. You were so familiar with it. You must have known all the twists, turns, hills, etc. This just confirms my belief that you were incapacitated in some way for you to be in the other lane.

I also noticed on the way home that I could see the other car heading towards me in the other lane a few seconds before it came over the hill. Maybe next time I will look ahead in my own lane and see how possible it would be to see a car in my own lane, like John Meadows. Dad has said he can't figure out how he couldn't see you coming, especially in his truck. God bless you, boy. Love you!

June dream

I had a dream about you over the weekend. You were Carter's age, I think, and I was telling you not to talk to me a certain way (maybe you had been rude to me or something which is hard to believe) and then I said it didn't matter anyway, and I was going to say because you were dead, but I didn't. It always seems in dreams that you are unaware of your death. That's interesting to me. Love you!

Friday quotes

These two quotes were on Facebook on Friday. The first one was posted by Christina Kornilakis and the second one by Lydia Brattin.

Life is like a piano. The white keys represent happiness and the black keys represent sadness. But as you go through life's journey, remember that the black keys make music too.  -Unknown

Lord, we know that to lose anything for you is an honor with an eternal reward. -Michael Tait, from God's Not Dead 2.

Lydia's Dream

Lydia Brattin posted this on Facebook today:

I hate to bother you all by posting this, but I woke up in the middle of a dream that I have to tell you about. I don't recall all of it, but the last part of it is replaying in my head right now, so I'm typing this before I forget it. It was a usual Sunday morning, my parents and I were walking into Fellowship when I skipped ahead of them and went into the room where the teens have Sunday School classes in.
   I was about to say hi to Hopie and some of the kids in the room when I spotted the strangest thing. Sitting on the couch he always sat on in the teen room was a young man with brownish-blond hair, light beach-tan skin, and twinkling blue eyes that I couldn't believe was there: Hayden. Shocked, I gasped his name and asked if it was really him before nearly falling over when he gave me one of his room-brightening smiles and responded by saying that he was really there. I tried to stutter out the words, "But you were gone," but even if I wasn't stuttering, Hayden (who must have been shocked at his friend stuttering while trying to talk to him) looked at me and grinned in the same room-brightening was as his smile. It was the grin that I hadn't seen for months, and I couldn't believe that he was back that day.
   Well, noticing how much of a crying and stuttering fool I was, I turned around and walked out of the Sunday School room, trying to find my parents and tell them about Hayden. When I came back into the room a few moments later, my dad was in there with everyone. I looked at dad and asked, "Dad, can you believe he's back?" As dad nodded, Hayden inquired about who I was asking dad about and all I could say was, "You." I then gave him a quick hug before backing away and sitting on the couch. I put my head in my hands and wondered how all this could happen, and I was awake before I looked back up.

(This makes me so happy-just the thought of it. It's very encouraging to me that everyone who has a dream about you always reports how happy you are. This reminds me that Lizzie Beard had a dream about you she told us about. I am going to track that down. Love you!)

For Lizzie's dream: I don't know if it was on Facebook or if Dad did a family text of it, but from what I remember, she said you both were little kids in her dream and you were very happy in her dream. If I come across what she actually said about it, I will post it. Love you!

It Could Have Been Anyone's Child

This is a similar post to the one before about the Disney tragedy. It's by Matt Walsh who is a blogger for Outreach Speakers. Here are some excerpts:

It's one of the ghastliest, most gut-wrenching and devastating news stories I've ever heard in my life. A two-year-old boy at a Disney resort lake was grabbed by an alligator and dragged into the water. His father, standing right beside him when the attack occurred, tried to wrestle the child free but was no match for the eight-foot beast. They recovered the boy's body on Wednesday.

As a parent of kids right around that age, it's impossible to refrain from picturing myself in that situation. But it's too awful to even imagine. It's worse than my worst parenting nightmare. All I can do-all any of us can do-is pray for the poor mother and father who will have to live the rest of their lives somehow coping with the gaping hole left by their child's death, and the unspeakable horror of the incident forever branded on their souls.

There is nothing more to be said. But, unfortunately, that never stops people from saying more.

It could have been me screaming in agony as I realize that it was hopeless and my boy would surely die.

It's not my parenting talent that has spared my son that fate. It is merely circumstance. And you never know when circumstances will turn against you. That's the thought, more than anything, that keeps a parent up at night.

That's why we can't rush to condemn parents when some terrible accident befalls a child. Well, it's one reason. The first reason is basic human decency I referenced earlier, which, as we've established, is severely lacking in our culture. But anyone who retains even a shred of it should realize that the loss of a child is already, quite literally, the worst thing that can happen to a human being...

Most parents would not hesitate to give up their lives or undergo any physical trauma for the sake of protecting their children. That father did not hesitate to rush into the water and tussle with a giant alligator. If he'd been successful, perhaps the alligator would have attacked him next. And I have no doubt he would have preferred to suffer that painful and agonizing death instead of his son. If he could go back and stand in his son's place, he would. That is what it means to love a child...He would give up his life to have his child back. Do you think he needs you to inform him that it would have been best if this whole situation were avoided?

Does any parent need that? I remember reading a story a while ago about a father who accidentally backed over his son in the driveway and killed him. I remember arguing with people who insisted that the dad should go to jail as punishment. These were, as you would expect, non-parents. They don't understand the love a parent has for his child, so they cannot possibly even begin to comprehend the devastation a parent feels in losing a child. Punished? He buried his son. He's already been given a sentence more severe than death...

The world is overflowing-practically bursting at the seams-with things that can hurt or kill a child. On a spiritual level, it is filled with forces that can do even worse than that. And until you've had kids, you don't understand what it means to live with that burden and responsibility. You also don't understand how truly impossible it is to insulate your offspring from all these threats or how an unanticipated threat can present itself suddenly and virtually out of thin air. Your kid is always one second away from disaster-only a breath away from catastrophe-and you don't understand that until you've lived it.

There are moments when you look away, when you're not there, when you misjudge something, you miscalculate, you make a mistake. And tragedy can always visit you in those moments. If it doesn't, it's because you're lucky. If it does, it's because you're not.

For parents who are not lucky, all they deserve is prayer and compassion. If you give them anything else, it reveals your own profound ignorance. Or maybe it reveals something even worse.

It's Nobody's Fault

There has been a lot in the news the past few days about a two-year-old child who was killed by an alligator at a Disney resort. Here is a post from someone named Melissa Fenton who seems to "get" child loss. Here are some excerpts:

Parents, I beg of you, stop blaming and shaming other parents.

35 years ago, a mom shopping in a Sears department store went to look at lamps, and left her six-year-old with another group of boys, who were all trying out the new Atari game at the kiosk. That boy's name was Adam Walsh.

(Also mentioned story of Baby Jessica who fell in a well)

In both cases, a tragedy happened, an unforeseen tragic accident took place which left Adam dead,...

(Everyone supported efforts without question)

Just a country of moms and dads,...watching in horror as a set of parents, one of their own, went through the unthinkable. Adam was our son...

Flash forward to 2016, the year of the PERFECT PARENT.

Yesterday, a two-year-old boy, splashing in the magical lakefront of a Disney resort, succumbed to the wilds of mother nature. An aggressive alligator scooped him out of the water, right under the watch of his father, who attempted to fight with the alligator to free his baby son. Pure horror. Sheer terror. Parents who had to actually watch their son be taken from them, as if they were in some African nature documentary.

A tragic and unforeseeable accident. An accident.

I weep for the mother and father. I am sick with anguish for the pain, agony, misery and regret pulsating through their veins this very second. And I bet you are too.

But not everyone is.

You see, we live in a time where accidents are not allowed to happen. You heard me. Accidents of any form, in any way, and at any time, well, they just don't happen anymore.

(Why-blamers and shamers)

And how are accidents allowed to happen if we can't blame someone? Surely they can't, right? I mean, random acts of nature, unpreventable tragedies, and fateful life changing events that take place in a matter of nanoseconds cannot possibly take place if everyone is being a responsible parent, right? NOPE.

Have you ever been to a child's funeral before?

I have.

The funeral of a (your!) child is an event in life that you never, ever want to experience.

In the coming weeks, these parents will fly back to their home in Nebraska without one of their children...

They will meet with a funeral director, pick out a tiny casket, a tiny burial suit and, surrounded by family, they will bury their baby boy.

And they will suffer every day for the rest of their life.

To the mother and father who went for a walk on vacation for the last time with their little boy yesterday, I am deeply sorry that you had to experience the worst kind of tragedy possible, an accident. I grieve with you. Your baby was my baby. Your son was my son. I have nothing but love for you, love to help you get through the pain yesterday, today, and for what is gonna seem like a thousand tomorrows. I wrap my thoughts and prayers around your aching heart and soul. May the God of the universe in some miraculous way bring peace to you and your family.

The Moon Song

I went to my Rydeon class last night and before the class started, the song City of Angels was on and there was a lyric video of it playing. I noticed (even though I wrote down the lyrics before) that in one part it said "I was 17 and looking for a fight" (I just shook my head at that point) and it felt like you were speaking to me through the whole song. I almost lost it at the end when it said "I am home." Wow-you are home. You are in that city and land of a billion lights. Praise God for that.

Anyway, that inspired me to track down one of the videos that Jake made for you that had that song in it. I couldn't remember which one it was, but I took a chance on the RIP-HMS one and that was the video. I cried the whole way through it-HARD.

The beginning of the video had a song I tracked down and it was the title of this post. It said it was from the movie Her which I know you loved. Here are the lyrics:

 The Moon Song

by Karen O

 

I'm lying on the moon

My dear, I'll be there soon

It's a quiet and starry place

Time's we're swallowed up

In space we're here a million miles away

 

There's things I wish I knew

There's no thing I'd keep from you

It's a dark and shiny place

But with you my dear

I'm safe and we're a million miles away

 

We're lying on the moon

It's a perfect afternoon

Your shadow follows me all day

Making sure that I'm

Okay and we're a million miles away

Riding behind Hope

On Sunday on our way to Ben Johnson's graduation party, I was sitting behind Hope while she was driving Dad's Sable. Dad was in the front seat and Carter and I were in the back. She had her shades on.

I was sitting behind her and imagining if it was you in your accident and how surreal that is. It's the same thing as if she were hurt or killed while driving. She is my child as much as you are. I love her as much as I love you. Imagining her beautiful precious head being hurt like yours was. Like I said, the best way to describe it is surreal.

So sorry that happened to you! My precious sweet boy! Love you so much!

Tegan and Sara

Today I heard some unfamiliar songs on my Pandora and when I checked, my category had been changed from Love Songs to Tegan and Sara. Didn't they open for the Fun concert you went to?

When I noticed that, I said something like that, "Is that you boy?" Love you!

When I Get There

Rough week for some reason. Today is Wednesday. This helps:

 

 

When I get where I am going,

And I see my Maker's face

I'll stand forever in the light,

Of His amazing grace

 

 

Can't wait for that day! Love you and miss you so much! Sweet boy!

Six Things

Came across this article-forgot where. The title of it is Please Don't Say These Six Things at My Funeral and it's by Chad Louis

There will come a day, perhaps sooner, perhaps later, when the man in the coffin will be me. They say the dead don't care, but I'm not dead yet, so as long as I'm still alive, I'd like to have some say in what goes on at my funeral. And, truth be told, I think the dead do care. Not that they will be privy to the details of what happens at their own funerals, but they still care about the world, about their family, about the church. The saints in heaven continue to pray for those who are still on their earthly pilgrimage, so how could they not care about them?

Because I do care now, and will care even after I'm with the Lord, here are some things I hope and pray are not said at my funeral. I care about those who will be there, about what they will hear. I want the truth to be spoken, the truth about sin, the truth about death, and, above all, the truth about the love of God in Jesus Christ.

So, please don't say...

1.  He was a good man. Don't turn my funeral into a celebration of my moral resume. For one thing, I don't have one. I'm guilty of far more immoral acts than moral ones. Secondly, even if I were the male equivalent of Mother Teresa, don't eulogize me. Talk about the goodness of the Spirit who calls, gathers, enlightens, sanctifies, and keeps us in the true faith. Talk about our good Father who's made us all His children in baptism. Talk about the good Husband that Christ is to His bride, the church. Don't say, "He was a good man," but "our good God loved this sinful man."

2.  (Hayden)..(Hayden)...(Hayden). I don't want to be the focus of my own funeral. I was not the center of the liturgy on Sunday mornings, so why should it be any different during my funeral liturgy? If anyone's name comes up over and over, let it be the name that is above every name-Jesus. He is the one who has conquered death. He is the one in whose arms I will have died. He is the one, the only one, who gives hope to the bereaved. Let me decrease that Christ may increase.

3.  God now has another angel. Heaven is not going to de-humanize me. In fact, once I am resurrected on the last day, I will be more human than ever before, for my human soul and human body will finally be in a glorified state that's free of sin. People don't become angels in heaven any more than they become gods or trees or puppies. The creature we are now, we shall be forever. God has enough angels already. All He wants is more of His children in the place Jesus has prepared for them.

4.  We are not here to mourn (Hayden's) death, but to celebrate his life. So-called "Celebrations of Life" do a disservice to the mourners for they deny or euphemize death. The gift of life cannot fully be embraced if we disregard the reality of death, along with sin, its ultimate cause. Whatever the apparent reason for my decease may be-a sickness, accident, or old age-the real reason is because I was conceived and born in sin, and I built atop that sinful nature a mountain's worth of actual sins. The only person's life to celebrate at a funeral is the Savior conceived of the virgin Mary, who became our sin on the cursed tree that we might become His righteousness in the blessed font, who buried sin and death in the empty tomb He left behind on Easter morning.

5.  (Hayden) would not want us to weep. When Lazarus died, Jesus wept. Those tears betoken a God who's fully human, who experienced the sadness and grief we all do at the death of those we love. To cry is not to deny that our friend or family member is with the Lord, but to acknowledge that in this vale of tears there is still death, still loss, still suffering. I do want those who mourn my death to weep, not for my sake, but for their own, for it an integral part of the healing process. But while they weep, let them remember that in the new heavens and new earth, God "shall wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there shall no longer be any death; there shall no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain," (Revelation 21:4).

6.  What's in that coffin is just the shell of (Hayden). What's in that coffin is the body that was fearfully and wonderfully made when our Father wove me together in my mother's womb (Psalm 139:13-14). What's in that coffin is the body that Jesus baptized into His own body to make me part of Him. What's in that coffin is the body that ate the saving body of Jesus, and drank His forgiving blood in the Supper, that I might consume the medicine of immortality. And what's in that coffin is the body that, when the last trumpet shall sound, will burst from my grave as a body glorified and ready to be reunited with my soul. My body is God's creation, an essential part of my identity as a human being. It is not a shell. It is God's gift to me. And one day I'll get it back, alive, restored, perfected to be like the resurrected body of Jesus.

Of course, there's always more that could be added to this list-and perhaps you'd like to add more in the comments below-but I believe these get the point across. I want the beginning of my funeral to be focused on Jesus, as well as the middle, as well as the end, as well as every point in between. I care about those who will attend. Let them hear the good news, especially in the context of this sobering reminder of mortality, that neither death, nor life, nor anything else in all creation, can separate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ, our Lord, for He is the resurrection and the life.  (Amen! Love you!)

Encouraging words

Having a rough time today for some reason. I think I'm getting bummed that the school year is almost over. Routine keeps me going, although I don't usually miss packing lunches. Stressing out that nobody is in at Jeff's office yet today because he owes me money for cleaning and bank accounts are going to be a mess without depositing that $200. Annoyed that Comcast debit came out too-can't afford that or anything this week. Going to play beat-the-clock tonight to get Carter some football cleats for football camp this week. I don't like doing that, but he needs the cleats. Don't care about overdraft fees at this point-can't do anything about it. Nothing at all.

Here are the quotes I wanted to write down (they are random):

Your greatest test is when you are able to bless someone else while you are going through your own storm.

I have no problem with those who don't like me, but I do have a problem with those who pretend to.

At some point you just have to let go of what you thought would happen and live in what is happening.

The moment you feel you have to prove your worth to someone is the moment to absolutely and utterly walk away.  -Alysia Harris

Miss you and love you so much boy! Having a hard time hanging on!

The Bereaved Parent by Harriet Sarnoff Schiff

This is a book that Michael Price let us borrow and it's really good. I will probably re-read it and take more notes, but these concepts stood out to me.

From Chapter titled Bereavement and Religion

For many people, regardless of their faith, a belief that there was a divine purpose in their child's death is just what they need to sustain them. They can be comfortable thinking the death was not just an empty, meaningless happening. They feel God had a greater plan and their beloved (Hayden) was a part of that plan.
   I believe such people are fortunate. They are relieved of a sense of the futility of things.
   People who are religious are the ones who can ask, "Why did this happen to me," without destroying themselves emotionally. They can give themselves many answers.
   One ancient example of this is the tale of the wife of a revered and wise rabbi whose twin sons died while he was away from home.
   Knowing how deeply he loved the boys, his wife decided to keep the tragic news from her husband until he could fortify himself with dinner that evening. When the rabbi came home, he asked for his sons repeatedly. His wife always replied, "They are away from home now."
   After the meal, she sat with him and said, "You are a very wise and learned man. Help me with the answer to a problem. If you were lent two precious jewels and told you could enjoy them as long as they were in your keeping, would you be able to argue when the lender asked for their return?"
   Her husband thought for a moment and replied, "Certainly not!"
   His wife then arose and led her husband into the bedroom where the two boys lay, dead, and said, "God wanted his jewels back."
   The most fortunate people are those who can derive peace from thinking their child is with God. They are the parents who do not constantly rack themselves with the pain of thinking how useless it was that their child died. And even if they do ask why, they have an answer that will not satisfy those who are nonbelievers.

From Chapter titled Bereavement and Functioning

Remember, we are different from other people. For most of us, the worst is behind us. It is not something we still have to face.

To my own satisfaction I have now defined fear. Fear is waiting for a doctor to tell you whether or not your child will live or die! That is a truth that all bereaved parents can profit from if they learn it and learn it well.

Anyone can exist. But you have endured more pain than just anyone. You have undergone the ultimate tragedy. You owe yourself more than a shuffling-along existence. You owe yourself some surefooted living.

From Chapter titled Bereavement and the Rest of Your Life

You probably never thought you could live through your child's funeral. What could have been more dreadful? But you did.
   Certainly surviving all the grief you felt seemed impossible. Those days and nights of crying, exhaustion, and pain were almost beyond endurance. You were certain, at times, you would never get past that time in your life. But you did.
   There were times when you felt great guilt because somehow you had not filled the role of "parent" as society interprets the role. You were unable to save your child and keep him alive. As that cold, clammy feeling would come over you and your back would prickle thinking about what you could have done differently, you were sunk into such a pit of grieving that you never dreamed it would be possible to go on. But you did.
   Often, you were beset with anger and a feeling of powerlessness because events that should have been in your control simply were not. You did not think you could overcome these feelings-especially the hopelessness that accompanied them. But you can.
   Just when you needed your mate most, you would find he or she could help you least. You expected comfort from someone incapable of comforting. You argued. Sometimes you even hated. You never thought you would rise from the bottom of the well of sorrow. But you can.
   You thought never again could you take an interest in the world and retain friendships and attend weddings and happy occasions for other people's children. You were certain you could never live through the trauma. But you will.
   There was no doubt in your mind that you never again could enjoy yourself. Never want to travel. Never give parties-or attend them. Never have fun. You would only be sorrowful and certainly you would never laugh. Above all, not laugh. But you will.
   And most of all, you were sure it would be impossible for you to function as a whole human being not buffeted by the waves of sorrow that swept over you in the early days of your tragedy. But you will.
   You will do all that and you will do more.
   Everything you have achieved-and just going about your day-to-day business after such a tragedy is an accomplishment-will act as a stepping stone to anything else you ever try to do.
   The fear of the unknown is behind us, for most of us, because we have already taken a long look at hell.
   You have before you the rest of your life. What you do with it is entirely a matter of choice. There are no rules or laws that require you to mourn forever and you certainly should not.


It was then, as I said, that I became conscious of that paralytic "what will people think" mentality. Worrying about that kind of thinking is false and trivial. I believe it also can dangerously retard your reentry into society. If Person A (believes this) and Person B (believes that) and Person C (thinks that) and you allow yourself to be buffeted by these outside judgments at the time of your supreme vulnerability you will not do what is right for you but what other people who have been through your ordeal think is right for you.
   I was lucky enough to understand what I was feeling and did not allow myself to be guided by someone else's timetable for what is acceptable. Instead, I let my inner instincts for self-preservation remain my determinant. We all have these instincts. Use yours. Listen to them. They can be excellent judgmental tools.
   The truth is, few can understand what we are feeling unless they too have been there!
   In trying to live the rest of your life, it is imperative not to make "what will the neighbors think" your prime consideration. Instead, concern yourself with functioning as best you can.
 
As long as I live I will be sorry (Hayden) is dead. That is fact. That is something I carry always. There are times, especially the good times, when I miss him still. But there are still good times. We share joys as a family that he did not live to share and I am sorry. But we still have joys. That is as it should be for us. That is as it should be for you.

  

I Chose to Grow

From #OCA series. Not about child loss, but this lady lost her mother and a brother. Still some good excerpts/thoughts. It is by Angela Trent.

It was my first real experience with death, and I was devastated. (she lost her mom)

I did not believe that I could exist here without (him). My world stopped, and I allowed sorrow to swallow me whole. I either didn't sleep for days or I slept all of the time. Food seemed insignificant. I wailed, cried and sobbed relentlessly.

I knew I had to find a way.

I reached out to a grief group in hopes of finding a foothold. I took my first steps of growth within the safety of so much love. It was a small group, but the connection was strong and it helped to know that I was not alone...I began to share my pain and found that I was helping others by sharing my experiences. My compassion had blossomed to a new level. I had taken a leap towards healing.

Ten years later, my brother died after being involved in a motorcycle accident. Again, my world was shattered. All of the familiar, bitter shards of grief pricked at me and ripped my heart in two. All of the stitches I had put into place popped. I could feel the shroud of sorrow slowly being pulled over me once again.

I knew that I did not want to revisit the dismal trench of depression. I knew how difficult it was to ascend the first time and I wasn't sure if I was strong enough to do it again.

So I chose to change my perspective. 
(Note to self: remember this thought!)

I had learned how to be here without my mom, and I would learn how to be here without my brother as well. I would find a way to honor his life through mine. He was only 40 when he died, but he packed a lot of living into those years. The last thing he would want me to do is to waste a minute of my life.

I forged on, grieving but not losing myself in the process. In fact, just the opposite. Somehow, despite the misery, as I sifted through the wreckage, I found myself. I found that strength that comes from taking one step at a time, even when you cannot see the path in front of you. I found that life offers no guarantees. I found that moments are precious. I found that death births compassion, empathy, love and growth, if you allow it to. I discovered that there is always a choice.

I chose to grow.

Cosmic Love

This song was in the wedding video for Travis and Amy Arreguin. It is from the movie, Twilight.

 

Cosmic Love

by Florence + The Machine

 

A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes

I screamed aloud, as it tore through them, and now it's left me blind

 

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out

You left me in the dark

No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight

In the shadow of your heart

 

And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat

I tried to find the sound

But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness,

So darkness I became

 

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out

You left me in the dark

No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight

In the shadow of your heart

 

I took the stars from my eyes, and then I made a map

And knew that somehow I could find my way back

Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too

So I stayed in the darkness with you

 

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out

You left me in the dark

No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight

In the shadow of your heart

 

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out

You left me in the dark

No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight

In the shadow of your heart

Dear Mom and Dad

This was on the Facebook page called, I Am a Daddy to An Angel. It was written from the perspective of an infant loss but I picked some of the parts out that were good.

Dear Mom and Dad,
I wish I could've said "good-bye"...I am ok now; everything is better. I miss you and always will, but I believe we will be together again, in time for all time. Right now though, that seems like an eternity. In time, it will be for eternity.

Thanks for all you did for me...Thanks for the tears you shed for me. I know you did everything you could for me and I am fortunate to have you for my Mother. I am sorry for the pain and sadness you have suffered...

Please don't ever forget about me. I will not forget you. If there is something I have learned, it is that you will not find the answer to the "why" of this, not now anyway. God did not make this happen, but He will help you live, love and laugh again. Sometimes that can seem very difficult when you hurt and so badly want answers.

I want you to live today; be happy. Bring laughter back into the house. Dare to dream again. You know so much better than many that life is often too short, too unpredictable. Tomorrow is never guaranteed.

I would rather this all be a very bad nightmare, but I can't do anything to change that now. However, you can make something good out of my death if you use it as an opportunity to love each other a little more, and reach out. There are so many hurting people out there who need a hand, or a hug or a "hello" or just someone to listen. Don't be afraid to admit you may be one of them. Be gentle with each other.

On a still, clear night, look for me, out there in the peace and quiet. Look up, not by the Big Dipper or the Milky Way, but over there in the corner of the sky. See that small, twinkling star you never noticed before.

One more thing before I go, thanks a lot for everything that you did for me. Thanks for caring and sharing. Thanks for trying and for crying. I love you lots. And Mom and Dad, "good-bye," "good-bye for just a little while longer." 

Love you,
Your Angel Baby

(When I was writing this down, during the part about others who are hurting, Kaisa's name popped up on the side. I think you're trying to tell me that she is someone who needs help right now. Thanks for that!)

First tragedy since yours

I think I told you but Travis Arreguin and his wife were killed in a motorcycle accident last week. I'm sure you remember, but he was the one who owned the house on the corner and paid you a year at a time for lawn care and snow removal (that's how you got your giant TV!) I know you remember all of this.

Anyway, there was an accident on Friday night and the report just said two motorcyclists were killed and it was on Michigan Ave. between here and Clinton, so I did not expect to know who it was. I found out Saturday night on the way back from Hope's tournament who it was and my heart stopped. It was weird to read about it and be on the other side of a tragedy again and feel how others probably felt when they heard about you. It was a little bit healing in a way-I don't know why.

Even though I pretty much didn't know them, it still affected me. It especially broke my heart to hear that she had a daughter who is Carter's age. She was on the Toronto trip when it happened. She came home to her whole world being turned upside down. Poor girl. I know when she saw her mom before she left for Toronto that she never would have imagined that would be the last time they would be together on this earth. That is her new reality, whether she likes it or not. (I know she doesn't like it).

I think one aspect of it that is weird, is that before your accident, I could only imagine what the families were feeling, etc. Now I know. Firsthand. I don't have to guess anymore. Love you boy!

Grace

The same grace that saved me will save you. Therefore I recommend if you have slipped a little bit, and all of us have at some point, just take the plunge into the ocean of God's grace.  -A.W. Tozer

Encouraging

From A.W. Tozer:

All great Christians have been wounded souls.

With (Him)

This is from #OCA. It's by Sarah Bamford. Excerpts.

(Her infant daughter died)

A year and a half later I am still picking up the pieces. I'm learning how to navigate this new world without (him). Some days, it's like putting together a mosaic without being able to see the bigger picture. The assembly of the broken pieces seems odd and ugly. Other days, I can step back just enough to begin to appreciate the beauty of what I am creating. It's amazing how I lived just fine in a world without (him) for 27 years, but now that (he) existed, I'm struggling to figure out how to live without (him) for the rest of my life. I miss (him) with every breath I take...

But at the same time, I am learning that we are still connected. I am discovering that I can still do things "with" (him), just not in the traditional sense. (He) is with me everywhere I go and in everything I do. With (him), I comfort other grieving mothers...With (him), I teach my (kids) about life and death, Heaven and Earth. With (him), I raise awareness. With (him), I renew my faith. With (him), I hope. With (him), I turn tragedy into purpose. With (him), I write the inner thoughts of my soul. With (him), I give the bereaved mother a voice. With (him), my broken heart speaks love.

(He) has given me the powerful gift of empathy, and it is my duty as (his) mother to share (his) legacy. I have witnessed (his) story bring people together. I have seen it strengthen relationships. I have met so many amazing, wonderful people because of (him). Some are on this same awful journey, and some are on the outside offering never ending support. Strangers have become my dear friends through our kinship of brokenness.

I wouldn't be who I am today if it wasn't for my (Hayden). (He) is with me always, guiding me, helping me to understand, and making me better. (He) reminds me that life is precious and a gift. Because of (him), I savor the moments I am blessed to have with (his) siblings. (He's) a part of me, woven into my being. This isn't the mother/(son) relationship I envisioned, but it's ours and it's one of the most beautiful ones that has ever existed.

Painting Beauty From the Ashes

From #OCA. This is by Maryellen Dennis. Excerpts.

After three years of self-destructive behaviors leading to feelings of unworthiness, defeat, sadness, and hopelessness, I sat on my porch, scared and alone, and cried out to God to forgive me, come into my heart, and help transform my life, for I couldn't do it on my own. That's exactly what happened...I was finally forgiven, redeemed, set free, and full of hope.

(Met another man-first husband was physically and emotionally abusive, married him, went back to school to pursue Master's degree)

About 15 months into our relationship, all was progressing well. I had resolved all of my legal issues, was strong in my sobriety, my children were returned to me, and finally my life seemed to be moving forward. But then came the day that changed me forever. My 19-year-old son Logan was tragically killed in a car crash.

Nothing I had ever been through could compare to this soul-shattering, heart breaking day. I cursed God and wondered why this could have happened to me. Was I being punished? I had no idea how I would survive this devastation that had now been placed upon me and my family. Of course, suicide crossed my mind, but how could I even think of such a selfish act to relieve my pain, when I still had three beautiful sons that needed their mother. I did the only thing I knew to do. I turned to the One who could hold me up: God.

I turned it all over to Him, knowing that my faith would help carry me. I knew God promised that if I trusted Him, he would paint beauty from the ashes. Although it has been the most devastatingly painful, tortuous, and saddening journey, the journey of a grieving mother, I am still standing, still hoping, and still living. I will grieve forever, because love is forever, but I have hope.

It's been almost 15 months since I lost my son, and I am living proof that a shattered heart can still beat. I'm encouraged, hopeful, and grateful that God is continuously walking this journey with me. There is something to be said about God's promise to paint beauty from the ashes, for it offers a hope, a peace, and a calm unlike anything else in this world. I want to be a witness to others that even through life's most difficult trials, tribulations, and even tragedies, that there is always hope.

This hope has helped me to understand that grief is really an ebb and flow, a constant dance of sorrow, joy, pain, a deep longing and a treasured sweet love. My family is doing well,...my faith is my top priority, and I'm continuing to reach out to other bereaved moms to offer love, support, and hope.

This is my life, my story, my journey, and I will continue on this crazy thing called life. Painting beauty from the ashes.

Real Faith

Someone posted this on Facebook today. There isn't a reference to who said it or anything. It makes me think of what I wrote about Dad yesterday.

A faith that cannot be tested is a faith that cannot be trusted. If your faith cannot survive adversity, then your faith isn't real. It is through adversity that real faith grows stronger.

Others' sad attitudes

This weekend was super crazy. We were stuck in East Lansing all day on Saturday for Hope's state tournament. It was fine, I just wish we knew ahead of time what the game schedule was. I don't know if we could have done anything differently since we are down one vehicle, but maybe we could have been mentally prepared for it.

Anyway, on the way home, it was pouring rain and the van was acting up as it doesn't like rain. It felt like it was chugging and having a hard time running and I was complaining because I couldn't understand why we could be having problems with both cars at the same time. We did make it home just fine and the van has been fine since it dried out.

I can't remember how this came about, but I was discussing with Dad the different issues with the cars and so forth and he basically said that he thinks that this is our lot in life-financial problems, marriage problems, losing you, etc. (I think we were discussing this on the way home and continued the conversation when we got home).

Basically Dad thinks we have it the hardest of anyone we know with all our problems and says he doesn't "love the struggle." There is so much wrong with that way of thinking. First of all, how can you even compare what we have gone through with anyone else and "rate" suffering?

Secondly, we are not owed a good life. I don't think though that God tags people and keeps them down. There are so many people in this world who are outrageously successful and they have nothing to do with God. I don't think success is a reward from God. We can thank God for if it happens, but it rains on the just and unjust, etc. What about the Carr family? Everything seems to be going great for them and they lost Chad.

Also, I don't know if he realizes how poor decisions can come into play with some of these problems. Poor decisions like job-hopping, not being wise with money, etc. As for marriage and family problems, how about not being nice, always being negative about things, trying to control everything, never thinking he's wrong, etc.

Something I have realized recently is that our lives are not about ourselves and our comfort, ease, pleasure, etc. Our lives as Christians are about God and what He wants and desires for our lives. Having a cushy, pain-free life never did anyone any good, because calamities are going to come along, guaranteed. Might as well be prepared for them. This is how the world is. But God can bring good out of the bad if we view it that way and don't just sit around and feel sorry for ourselves.

One more thing-that's ungrateful to discount all of the blessings we do have. We have had relatively few problems with our house in the past 15 years. We have three beautiful children, two of whom are still with us on this earth. We both have jobs, health insurance, decent health, the list can go on and on. A great church, A GREAT GOD WHO SAVED US FROM OUR SINS (which is the best of all), anyway-you get my point. What is the point of going through life living as though you're doomed? That doesn't help anybody. It actually hurts yourself and impedes progress.

Some of the issues that Dad has are not going to resolve on their own. I don't know how to deal with them, but I am sick of him making bad situations worse with his mean comments and cut-downs. It did help me to realize the other day that a lot of my unhappiness comes from him. The things that bother me most (aside from missing you, of course) are our marriage problems and financial problems which he has a huge part in. I don't know what I can do with that information, but it helps me to realize that for some reason.

Thanks for listening! Love you BOY!

The Revenge of a Good Life

The title of this is a little weird and I almost didn't read it, but I'm glad I did. It's from the #OCA series, and it was written by Tamara Gabriel.

Looking back on where I am today, I realize that every step in my life somehow prepared me for my worst nightmare...I had to learn to be tough...I think having the foundation and the influence of great faith served me well in the midst of multiple tragedies.

(She was in an abusive marriage, had two miscarriages, had her own health issues which affected her work, didn't get any financial support from family when she left her husband)

It took me a while to get on my feet, but I finally got my own place with my two children...I received no support from my family and a lot of anger from my husband's family.

But life was settling. For the first time in a long time, there was no yelling, no negativity, and I could live my life the way I wanted to. (Her son moved in with her parents because of some emotional disorders).

One day, Janna and I were on our way to visit a friend telling jokes and laughing when my car lost control and hydroplaned and ended up on the other side of the road. Janna was airlifted and I was taken to a local hospital. Our family came together, but unfortunately Janna died a week later due to head injuries. I wanted to die because I felt she was the only one who ever loved me unconditionally.

(Started drinking heavily-wanted to punish herself for killing her daughter)

(Started attending Alcoholics Anonymous)

My mom said "the best revenge is the revenge of a good life," and that stuck with me. Why kill myself when I can stay alive and piss everyone off because they will all have to deal with me?

I have been told I'm strong, but I just tell others that I am rebellious. I have gratitude for everything and I put my trust in God. It has also been said in the book of Job, that whatever you lose you will be replaced with tenfold.

(Tells what she has gone through)

I live every aspect of my life in memory of my daughter so that her death will not be in vain...My family is back in my life and has also moved close to me as well. What I lost in my daughter, I have gained tenfold...

There is life after death, and I believe my husband (her new one) is my reward for all that I have been through.

I love helping people and never want them to feel alone and like nobody cares. I have felt that way and know the pain. But I also know that every step in my life brought me to where I am today and he gifts of forgiveness, compassion, and unconditional love have helped to heal all the wounds of the past, creating a better future.

Taking that first step toward healing all started with me.

Colors of Goodbye

This was a story on the Facebook page for Faithit which is remarkably similar to your story, as far as what happened to her daughter. Here is the info:

19-Year-Old Dies Tragically-Then Mom Sees Something Unusual in a Painting She Made 2 Months Earlier

It was a parent's worst nightmare come true

When we lose a loved one, it's often hard to believe that God is still a good father amidst it all.

If He loved us so much, why would He take something from us that we hold so dear? Or if the enemy comes to steal, kill and destroy, why doesn't God just stop it from happening with a snap of His omnipotent fingers?

That's exactly the struggle that Scott and September Vaudrey experienced when they tragically lost their 19-year-old daughter, Katie. But as the years went on, they found "unexpected hope in the midst of loss."

When Katie's mom went back to a painting her daughter made just a couple months prior to her death, she saw something there that really brought God's promises to life before her very eyes. The beautiful watercolor was a of a tree with a gnarled, weather-beaten trunk-but when September looked at its bright green leaves, a profound truth hit her:

"When I look at the leaves in that painting, I'm reminded that this is the life to the full that Jesus talks about in John 10:10. And one of the things that slowly brought me to a place of peace was that I could not stinkin' deny God's goodness. He just continually and relentlessly showed up in our story, almost always through the thumbprints of people. To me, that is what the tenderness of God looks like."

Things I remember from the video:

Her daughter suffered a brain aneurysm which caused her car accident. A witness said they saw her passed out at the wheel and slumped over. The aneurysm ruptured and filled her brain with blood.

She said her daughter lived as though she was trying to pack a lifetime of living into 19 years.

She talked about the call from the hospital telling her that her daughter was in the accident. When they got there, they saw her lying on a gurney without a scratch on her. She was declared brain dead 6 hours later.

The mom remembered that right after everything happened, she could sense God telling her that He was still good and that this circumstance didn't change that. She ultimately agreed with that statement.

(I'll probably add to this at some point-it was such a good story)

Her dad said you never get over it, but you learn to get on with it.

(Re-watched video and took notes:)

Hard to believe that you are that family who lost a kid

John 10:10

so full of life, packed a lifetime of living into 19 years-intensity

phone call of every parent's worst nightmare

went into trauma room and saw her lying on a gurney-not a mark on her

next day, a witness said they saw Katie passed out over the wheel which confirmed that she had an aneurysm that ruptured and filled her brain with blood and knocked her it, that's why she swerved and she was hit

mother went outside from the hospital and felt an undeniable sense of peace and God's presence telling her that "I am good, this circumstance doesn't change who I am"

she questioned, how can He be good when things go as horribly wrong as you can imagine

the dad said the intolerable ache gradually softens

loss of child is always this far beneath the surface (small amount)

God relentlessly showed up in our story, mostly through the thumbprints of other people

the tenderness of God

when people don't forget your kid, don't forget your sorrow-that is God showing up for you and walking with you in the hardest of times

His vision for the church was a community that did life together

Rain after service

I forgot what made me think of this, but I wanted to remember that when we came out of the church following your box to the outside where it was loaded up, it started to rain on an otherwise beautifully sunny day. God was weeping too along with us. Praise His Holy Name!

It Only Took a Spark

From #OCA series. This one is by Ayla Carey. Paraphrased.

And in my heart of hearts, something in me felt I would not get to keep (him).

I was right.

That morning, I found my baby (boy) lifeless, already in the arms of our Lord. My bright, light, perfect world soon turned dull, dark, and destroyed.

(The ride to the hospital) only solidified what I already knew: that this was the worst of the worst and every parent's nightmare...I wished God had taken me too. I was physically ill and emotionally shattered, and I couldn't imagine how I would live from that moment forward.

Each day after (he) went to (his) forever home was a struggle here where (he) left us. It was hard to get up, hard to go to sleep, even literally hard to breathe. Though the grief for us is still raw and fresh, we learned from the beginning that the darkness that came would not be a place we would want to stay.

(He) wouldn't want us to stay there either.

I remember having a meltdown...I sat in my car, and screamed, and cried. I yelled at God telling him, "I can't do this! You are going to have to help me. You need to show up and do something. If you want me to fly, you are going to have to give me feathers (I think wings sounds better-anyway)."  wandered in (the store), with no mission in mind. And as I turned the corner, sobbing, I saw one of my dearest friends and biggest supporters, standing with open arms and a shoulder to cry on. There God was, showing up for me. Blessings like this continued on a day to day basis, and I've never felt more loved. I began to not only "welcome" these little blessings from above, but to look for them. If I opened my mind, and my broken heart, I would find little pieces along the journey that were helping put the jigsaw back together again. Like little "feathers" (so that's why she used that term) helping me learn to fly again.

My God sent his hope, and his mercies, and his feathers to get us through each day. And though our baby went from our hands to His, and pieces of our broken hearts are there in Heaven, there is still a big part of (him) here. Though not completely mended, our hearts are healing. Our lives look different, our hearts look different. We see people for more of what their stories may tell. Helping the hurting actually helps us heal. (This is so true!) We hold our children longer and each other tighter. In all things, we want to make this life count. Though hurting, we are hopeful. Though broken, we are blessed. Though grieving, we are grateful.

(They named their daughter Ember and explain why). "A light burning in the ashes." I loved that I would get to teach her to love God, love others, and to be a light in dark places.

Ember-"a glowing or burning light in an otherwise dying fire." Since my Ember is not here, it is left for me to keep the fire burning. Though (he) died, I must live, and (his) light will shine through me. It's left up to me to be a light in dark places. We adopted a verse that is now our life's mission/

That is why I remind you to rekindle the embers of, fan the flame of, and keep burning the gracious gift of God, the inner fire that is in you.  (2 Timothy 1:6)

For us, it only took a "spark"...

Beauty from ashes. (He) is my beauty from ashes. I now must live this life to be a light in a darkened world. I vow to keep the love and the light burning, so that a flame can be fanned into a once again burning fire. The fire cannot die, and neither can I. Whether it is their physical or spiritual forms, I make a point each day to look for feathers. They remind me of a Father who is piecing back together my puzzle. They remind me that He sends me feathers, which joined together make wings-wings that will help me fly again. If I'm flying, I'm not dying. and I won't just live, I will come alive.

My Gift to (Him)

This is actually titled My Gift to Her but I like to customize things. It is from the #OCA series. It is by Sherri Melnychuk.

(Talked about being in the hospital with her daughter). But mostly, I would think the worst thoughts about the future. I could not imagine losing her. I could not imagine living without her. I could not imagine her dying, I would die too. Real, honest, ugly, thoughts that no one wanted to talk about, for we were on the side of hope,...

Well, the worst thing happened.

...But it was not meant to be.

In my mind, if (Hayden) were to die, I would die too. That is how I imagined it all to be.
(Personal note: this reminds me of a dream I had when were on the farm. I think you were in a casket and I decided to crawl in there too. I also remember a dream that I had a few days after you were born that you slid out of my arms behind the couch or something and you died as an infant. That second one could have been just "new mommy" fears. The first one I mentioned is interesting though.)

Except, there I was ALIVE, and I had no idea what to do with it.

I suppose that was my awakening. When I woke up the next day after (Hayden) passed, I was alive. I was shocked. There I was, alive! All those nights I watched (Hayden) and was convinced I could not live without (him); there I was, living without (him). The other shock? I didn't want to die. How could that be? I wanted to live! I wanted to go enjoy the day with (other children). Just one of the many gifts my (Hayden) left me-the gift of life. I understood how precious life really was-that is the unwelcomed awakening that would come to any parent whose child has been diagnosed with (a brain injury)-life was precious. One day at a time. Make the most of each day.

The moment (Hayden) passed was awful, of course. But it was also perfect and beautiful too...I felt grateful that I had been there for her first breath and her last breath. That night (he) passed, the moment, everything about it is forever etched in my heart, but it wasn't the worst. (Because she started grieving when she was sick). I know (Hayden) is free now, and I no longer worry about (him). I just continue to love (him) and mother (him) from afar...The only thing that was different (from grieving before she died) was that I ached. My body, my heart, my core ached in a way that I had never felt before. It was so hard to describe. I just hurt in places I had never hurt before, but it was my grief. My raw, heart-shattered-in-a-million pieces, broken, aching, mama grief. I would never wish this pain on anyone, but yet I know there are so many others out there that know this grief-this brutal mama grief.

One can never prepare for the loss of a child. (Even with an illness). I wasn't prepared for how hard living without her by my side would really be. Sure, I knew it would be horrible to live without her, but I did not expect he ripple effect of loss. Everything in our lives changed after (Hayden) left. We "lost" a lot of things besides (Hayden)-our way of life, our friends, our family, our relationships, our outlook on life, our social activities, holidays, family get-togethers, the list is endless. After (Hayden) left everything changed, and we were not prepared. We lost (him) and almost everything connected to (him). It has taken years to rebuild, but we have rebuilt, and we found happy moments in life which occur simultaneously with our grief for (Hayden). Happy and sad are beautifully intertwined in the fabric of our day to day life. I enjoy my days with my two (children) who are still with me-...

The pace of your grief, the way you express it and come to terms with it is unique. Losing (Hayden) has given me some of the greatest gifts in life. I am kinder, worry less about the little things, and I truly do my best to choose the happiness and joy in every moment. I am also less judgmental about others and their situations. I felt so judged by others when (different stages that happened with her daughter). I felt my life was an open book, and I longed for my privacy back. I turned inward those first few years of grief. But that was so hard as I wanted my privacy but so desperately wanted everyone to remember (Hayden). "Please don't forget about him!" I was screaming inside. And now, almost five years out, I am starting to share more of my story with the world.

It is not an easy walk of life, that's for sure. I don't believe we ever move on from losing one of our children. I do believe, that I am on a healing journey of grief. This journey is ever-changing, because I am ever-changing. I can choose how I react to all life throws my way-I choose to be happy. I choose to live this day. I choose love. It is not always easy and some days are better than others. But I am in control of how I choose to live the day that has been given to me. I choose to honour (Hayden) and advocate for (him). (Talks about how daughter used to get up every morning and choose an outfit). Now that (he) is gone, it is the very least I can do for (him)-wake up each day and make the most of the day that has been given to me! I also strive to be happy and joyful like (Hayden).

(Hayden's) light and love shines far more brightly than the darkness of (his) death. I choose to see (his) time on Earth as complete. (His) soul had completed all the world needed, and it was time for (him) to go to Heaven. But I am still here, and I am not done with my work on Earth yet. Life moves forward whether we like it or not. I can choose the path of bitterness, anger and darkness or I can choose the path of light, love and hope. For my (Hayden Milton), I can do that. It is my gift to (him) in return for all (he) has given to me.

Part of bio from end: works very hard at living in the moment, accepting life, living with a grateful heart, and paying attention to the signs God sends her