Prom, Pain and Peace

Jan28

I trace the outline of your face in your prom picture. There’s a pic I remember from that day… Of you and me. I’m looking at you with overflowing pride and joy. You in your tux and me in my Mickey Mouse tee shirt from our last vaca. I’d like to see that pic but it’s with so many other memories that I can’t unpack yet.

God what happened? What the hell happened? That was a happy day. How’d we go from that to such intense pain? One decision. One phone call. One instant and it was gone. Life as I knew it was over.

Jesus God give me the strength, hope, wisdom and courage to fight till the finish. To perservere. To experience joy with gratitude. To praise You continually. Thank You for all I’ve learned and continue to learn about You since Drey died. I have faith and hope like I’ve never experienced before. Even when – especially when – I have mornings like this. The peace that overcomes me as I write, read, cry and rest is unexplainable. I know I’m a walking miracle and I say that in awe of You. You are God. I’m just a person. David wrote, “…to know that You are mindful of man…” I get slivers of understanding the awe and overwhelming gratitude and humility David may have been feeling when he wrote these words. And You preserved those words for such a time as this. Holy shit! I can’t help myself! Even in my deepest sorrow I must also praise You! And I know this desire to praise You is coming from You – not me – and that makes me want to praise You all the more! God I bask in these moments when You turn my deepest wails into peaceful tears of gratitude! 

 

AZ with Drey

Jan17

I’m back in Arizona for the week. Blessed and grateful to be able to take these classes. Nice to get away from Ohio… just unplug. Still surreal  – this direction life has taken. Never in a million years could I have imagined it.

Walking through the airport I see young men in their 20’s and think of you. I see a young lady I’m sure you would’ve noticed. I see an older woman with her adult son helping her walk. Thoughts of what should’ve been are flooding my mind. I’m breathing you again. I’ve come so far in learning how to live this new life… but you’re always here in my mind, in my heart. And some days I still just ache. I’ve held it in for a while without even realizing it. But now that I’m here and alone with my thoughts the tears flow freely.

Sitting on the shuttle bus I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window. Who is that woman looking back at me? It can’t possibly be me, can it? You didn’t really do this, did you? How am I still alive?

God, I pray for rest. I pray for clarity of mind and a supernatural ability to take my thoughts captive to the obedience of your son. Those thoughts. Those horrible thoughts. I praise you for keeping me alive. And I yell at you for keeping me alive. Sometimes it changes from minute to minute. I take great comfort in knowing you’re grateful to be talking with me regardless of my mood. Protect my mind from nightmares. And while I’m on the topic… how about you give me a nice dream of Drey? You know, one that doesn’t make me want to vomit when I wake up? I’m afraid to ask for a good dream. I’m more afraid to ask for a sign that Drey is happy, safe and loved with you. Because when it doesn’t get answered I worry it’s because he’s not with you. Forgive my fearful attitude. Change my heart towards you when I’m full of doubt. God I’m asking now. Help me trust you regardless of the outcome. Thank you that I can sleep. I am so grateful for rest. Tell Drey I love him.

Drey’s initials in AZ
Peaceful reflections
Drey with me in AZ Dec 2015

christmas 4

Dec25

Another Christmas behind me. 4th one. It wasn’t as hard this year. I’m grateful I am able to carry on so to speak. I make plans, think ahead. I lived minute to minute for a very long time after Drey died. So being capable of planning and following through is another outward sign of God strengthening me.

But as the day is nearly over and I’m alone with my thoughts it once again hits me that I didn’t see Drey for yet another Christmas. He wasn’t here. He’ll never be here.  I remember the first Christmas and driving home from my parents saying, “The day is almost over and I haven’t seen Drey.” Three years later I still have that feeling at the end of Christmas Day. “Wait, this can’t be right. I didn’t see Drey. He’s really dead, isn’t he? He really did this, didn’t he? How am I still alive?”

I don’t even know how I feel about it anymore. The grief waves still roll in but I don’t let myself think about it for too long. I still get knots in my tummy. Maybe I’d feel better if I’d do something in Drey’s memory on Christmas. Light a candle for the day? Set aside time to share memories of him? Give a family in need gifts Christmas morning? I don’t know. I want to talk about him but worry no one wants to listen. I guess I’m still learning how Drey fits into our family now. I’m fearful no one feels a need to find the proper spot for him except for me. And that makes me feel very alone.

Be grateful for today

Oct19
Happy celebration with friends! Ed & Sue 20 year anniversary!

Happy celebration with friends! Ed & Sue 20 year anniversary!

I was visiting a friend last week and she shared this picture with me. It was from her and her husbands 20th wedding anniversary.  My immediate reaction was sorrow…

“Oh look – I was so happy.”

I immediately started calculating in my mind how old Drey was when it was taken – cuz that’s the lens life is still viewed through. He was 13.

13. Was I a good mom then? I look stress-free. Is that an indication I was a good mom?

Life was so much easier then. Ed was alive. Drey was alive. We were all so happy to be with our friends celebrating this special renewing of Ed and Sue’s wedding vows. Ed had once again set the standard very high for all the other husbands!

As I look at the picture again this morning I can see it through a different lens… Was I feeling especially grateful when Drey was 13 or was I complaining about his attitude? Was I grateful for all those wonderful friends around me? Was I grateful for Ed? Was I grateful for my job or was I feeling unappreciated – struggling to find “balance” in my life? Did I have any clue how massively different life could look just a handful of years later?

I am moving into an office space today. LOSS has outgrown my dining room. I will take pictures. It’s a big day after all! I can be grateful for today. Grateful for the blessings God has continued to pour out on me. Grateful for my wonderful family, friends and amazing husband. Grateful for the love God has given me for other people. Grateful for our dogs, our wonderful Franklinton home. Grateful for heaven.

I’m sure I was grateful for a variety of things before Drey died. But when I get my focus where it should be I’m certain that gratitude pales in comparison to today’s. I am sad. Nothing can fill the Drey sized hole in my heart on this side of heaven. But I’m also blessed to have been to the school suffering. I will see you again, baby boy. I love you. ❤️

This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it!

OOD Walk 2015

Oct11

It’s the emotional day again… The AFSP walk day. This day is fun, this day is hard, this day is unifying, this day is hopeful, this day is heavy, this day is exhausting.

LOSS will be there eager to meet new friends and share resources. I will be Mom – not LOSS leader. I will walk quietly with Robbie in remembrance of my son. I will weep and I will smile. I will thank God for my boy and lash out at Him for not saving him from himself. I will silently ask “why, what did I miss, and how was my love not enough to just chose life?” dozens of times. Living without Drey means living with pain. And on this day it’s just best to experience the pain along side fellow survivors. There’s something peaceful and safe about this walk. I am blessed to be part of other survivors lives.  💚💜

That beautiful smile

Sep27

I miss Drey very much. I wish I could hold him, smell him, hear his laugh.  I can think about him sometimes now without thinking about how he died. It took 3 years. And I still focus more on his choice to die than on his life but slowly I’m learning to stop asking “why.” I was thinking about the day I took him to get his drivers license earlier today. I remember him walking back in the building after taking the test with a somber look – that lasted 5 seconds tops. He broke into a huge smile – couldn’t help himself! God I’d love to see that beautiful smile.

Today in church we talked about how because of Christ we can approach the throne with confidence… Which got me thinking about Drey. Drey took his life then was immediately in heaven and could approach God with confidence? It’s hard to get my mind around. That God is THAT loving and merciful. Why do I think my sins are forgivable but have a difficult time believing my son was able to approach our Heavenly Father, too? Even after all I’ve been through I still have a shallow understanding of how loving God is and I definitely don’t have an adequate understanding of just how gross my own sins are. To think Drey crossed an unredeemable line and I haven’t is pure pride, arrogance.

I am excited to see my boy again. I often wonder if he’s the first person I’ll see when I get to heaven. I wonder why God hasn’t given me a sign? Why haven’t I had a dream about heaven and seeing Drey there? Sometimes I go to bed with anticipation that tonight may be the night. To wake up after a dream of Drey in heaven would be so amazing! I’ve prayed about it. But no dream. Some people talk about signs they see and experiences they have… Things that reassure them about their loved one being in heaven. I’m pretty cynical. I’m far more likely to chalk something up to coincidence than I am to something spiritual.

Well, maybe tonight will be the night? But if not, it’s ok. Everything’s ok. I’m still alive – and if 3 years ago you would’ve told me I’d still be alive today – I wouldn’t have believed it. I’m a walking miracle.

This day

Aug4

I always know I am blessed but I don’t always feel blessed. Today I do. I am grateful for dozens of things and thanking God for every single one of them. 

I got to enjoy time at the Ohio State fair with my Mom and a few of her friends today. 

I got to have a meeting with people who care deeply for suicide postvention today. 

I got a surprise gift of fresh, delicious peaches today. 

I got a surprise cake, ice cream and bottle of champagne in celebration of Drey’s life today. 

I got a wonderful text message today. 

I got a loving voice mail today.

I have a wonderful husband who takes care of me every day. 

I love my job as the LOSS Coordinator every day. 

I have 3 stinky, cuddly dogs I get to love on every day.

I have a mom who spoils me and thinks I’m awesome every day.

I get to sneak away for 4 days and hike, read, canoe, swim and sit in a hot tub all by myself.

I have a good God who showers me with these earthly blessings and with infinitely more heavenly blessings. 

Yes, I am ready to start year 4 of this new life.

The isolation of it

Aug3

As time marches on, the circle of loved ones I can be sad with grows smaller. But thank God You’ve provided a circle.

You weep with me always, God, not just when the calendar says it’s a hard day. 

I’m going dark. 

Sometimes it feels wrong for taking up people’s time with my Drey tears. But Your word says You collect my tears. How blessed I am to have an infinite, powerful creator who is so personal and loving. So attentive to me.

I should’ve left town sooner or at least completed more stuff before today so I could just chill. I have to hold on till Thursday. Just 3 more days then I can go. I was doing ok… Just pluggin along even on August 1 and 2. But now it’s time to rearrange my calendar, lower my expectations of the “to do” list and increase the expectations of the “just be” list. 

I want to be understood. But this sorrow will always be too personal. There are a finite number of descriptive words. And words aren’t experiences. Words aren’t love. Words aren’t feelings. Words are inadequate. So what’s the point? Sometimes it’s easier in silence.

I should’ve gone dark sooner. 

One foot in front of the other. That’s all. I’m learning You are All, slowly. Someday I’ll be home. I can love while I wait.

Thank You for the glimpses of learning how to love people. Thank You for caring for others through me. For prompting me to love by prayer. To love by sitting. To love with silence. I never knew pain. Now I know this pain. Now I know pain is personal, unique and not shareable or comparable. Now I can be comfortable not knowing and not fixing, just sitting and praying.

I’ve never been more sad, more hopeful, more confident or more at peace.

Just breathe.

And after that deep breath… more grateful. 

Personalized 1 Corinthians 13

Jul20

If I devote myself to ’round the clock service to others, but don’t have Jesus, my service is meaningless. If I have full knowledge of all circumstances, motives and intentions leading up to 8.8.12, but I don’t have Jesus, my knowledge is but dust. If I have the power to turn back time and undo what’s been done, but I don’t have Jesus, my power amounts to nothing. 

Jesus is patient and kind; Jesus does not boast or envy; Jesus is not arrogant or rude. He does not force His way or His perspective on me. He is not irritable or resentful; He never rejoices at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Jesus does not compare His suffering to mine; He does not discount my pain. Jesus does not keep score. Jesus stays alongside me in all things. He bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Jesus never ends. As for good works, knowledge, and power they will pass away. For without Jesus I only work and know in part, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a woman, I gave up childish ways. And so there will be a great transformation again… For now as a grown woman I see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. And this transformation will be greater. 

So now faith, hope, and Jesus abide, these three; but the greatest of these is Jesus.

Thank you JRue and CT Teacher for your sharing.

1 Corinthians 13 (ESV):

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.

So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

Fault and Intent

Jul13

It might’ve been a breakthrough… I don’t know. It’s only been 9 days so I can’t say for sure.

Sobbing last Saturday morning, July 4, I told Robbie that maybe it wasn’t my “fault” Drey died.

I had just finished reading Appointments With Heaven – a book written by Steven Curtis Chapman’s closest friend Reggie Anderson. I don’t remember who recommended the book – if anyone did for that matter. I’m fairly cynical so picking up a book about someone claiming to experience supernatural events isn’t something I’d normally read. But my husband is rock solid, smart and discerning. And if he says Steven Curtis Chapman – who wrote the forward to this book endorsing it – is trustworthy and has a healthy biblical knowledge, then ok. I’ll read it.

The book was good. Not so much because of the supernatural experiences he’d had but because of Anderson’s honesty about the tragedies he’d experienced in his life. He questioned his faith multiple times. His honesty about his anger and doubt about God is what made this book good. Then I neared the end of it and I found myself leaping through the final pages in anticipation and excitement…

The last few chapters of the book addressed the accidental death of Chapman’s young daughter in 2008. Chapman’s son accidentally ran over her when pulling into their driveway. She was running out to ask her big brother to help her reach the monkey bars. Horrible, sickening tragedy. How does a family cope? I was eager to learn how the family responded…

After reading those last few chapters I knew clearly that 17-year-old Will had been behind the wheel of the vehicle that killed little 5-year old Maria. It was his “fault.” But “fault” wasn’t the right word because it was never ever ever his intent for this to happen. Never. In this horrible tragedy, intent – not fault – was all that mattered. Of course no one blamed Will. It was an accident. He was driving carefully. He should not be paralyzed by guilt. He loved Maria so very much.

The Chapman family did an interview with Larry King just a few months after Maria’s death – watch it here. Simply amazing.

It’s only been 9 days since I finished the book. I’m still digesting it, processing it.There are too many layers to this story, this grief, this hope, to adequately and succinctly write about now. All I know is that I was humbled by the question I’m sure God put on my heart… Why had I never applied this logic to my own situation? I never ever ever intended for any of my choices to result in Drey’s suicide. I would have given my life for him. I loved him very much and did all I could to make sure he knew that, too.

So, through sobs, standing in our hallway outside Drey’s room, 2 years 10 months and 26 days after he died, I told Robbie that maybe – just maybe – it’s not my “fault” Drey died.