Tag Archive | grief

Tell me one more time, God. Where were you? I want to believe!

Feb3

This morning I was able to look at the journal I had been writing in before everything came crashing in on Aug 8, 2012. Drey was constantly on my mind. I was worried, fearful, and missing him. I hear it as I read through my words. I sounded desperate. I remember feeling desperate. I was crying out to You, God. Praying for Drey repeatedly. Where were you on August 8th, God? I don’t understand.
The week following Drey’s graduation Robbie said, “honey – you are walking around here like you just came from his funeral rather than his graduation.” I’ll never ever forget those words. Just 10 weeks later Drey would be gone.
Robbie was right. I was adjusting horribly to not living with my son and to him transitioning into adulthood. I was trying to let go of my idol – my everything. That’s what Drey had become over the years.

Here is some of my journaling in the 11 weeks prior to the tragedy…

Whatever Drey does may he work at it with all his heart as working for You, Lord, and not for the approval or attention of his parents or friends.

May 20, 2012: Drey graduates in a week, God. Please guide his decisions. Please convict him of his need to pursue You and Your input. Save him from foolish decisions and give me peace that You love him far more than I do. You promise You’ll never leave him or forsake him.
Hebrews 13:5 “Keep your life free from the love of money and be content with what you have for He has said I will never leave you or forsake you.”

May 22, 2012: Dear Lord thank you for the unexpected visit from my boy. I love him so much! You know I don’t want him to be put in harms way so his desire to pursue the military worries me. I want Your will for him, Lord. You know how much I love him, God.

May 27, 2012: God I pray for Drey’s heart – that it would stay soft towards You. I pray for his eyes that he’d seek You and not worldly things. I pray for his ears – that he’d grow weary of temporary praise and would crave instead delighting in You. God I love him so much. I want him to be safe emotionally, physically and spiritually. Please help me to trust you with Drey.

May 28, 2012: Lord father please be ministering to Drey giving him wisdom beyond his years. Wisdom from You. Please bind Satan from Drey. Please show him Your love for him.

May 29, 2012: Dear God I give you Drey. I ask You to guide his decisions, to love him, to care for him. Please give him ears to hear from You. Psalm 37:23,24 “The Lord directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives. Though they stumble, they will never fall for the Lord holds them by the hand.” I want to trust Drey with you, Lord. I know I am so inadequate but sometimes I doubt Your goodness and I am so so sorry for that. You gave Your son for Drey, for me.

May 29 PM: I’m feeling better this evening. I saw Drey, that helped.

May 31, 2012: God, I am grateful for Drey’s new job. Thank You. Please keep pursuing him. I want him to be a man who loves You.

June 3, 2012: God thank You for helping me relax today. You know I am worried about Drey. I pray he pursues You. I pray he can stand firm against lies, against distractions. Help him to see that You are the only true answer.

June 5, 2012: Dear God I am feeling so afraid. I know my anxiety is wrong. You are perfect. You can comfort me. Nothing can happen to me, Drey, or anyone without Your awareness but somehow I fear You are unhappy with me and You’re going to allow something bad to happen because I’ve made You unhappy. I know this thinking is wrong. Help me to KNOW it’s wrong. Help me to BELIEVE it’s wrong.

June 12, 2012: Dear Lord I continue to be anxious. Always anxious. I pray. I try to take my thoughts captive. I read Your Word. But here I am again and again. Dear God please guard my mind especially with regards to worrying about Drey.

June 14, 2012: Dear Lord I find myself searching. I’m desperately searching for what You are trying to say to me. I look at little coincidences and I wonder if they are signs from You and I start to ponder their possible meaning. God when will I hear from you? You’re not a God of confusion that is keeping me guessing. You are clear, consistent. You are loving, holy, truthful and You’re merciful.

June 20, 2012: Dear Lord I’m feeling very crushed in spirit and under a huge pile of lies only I’m not sure what’s a lie or what’s the truth. I’m missing Drey, Lord. I worry about his choices. I miss him so much. I just want to stay in bed until this season is over.

July 16, 2012: Just because I haven’t journaled in a few weeks doesn’t mean you aren’t on my mind, Drey. God please protect my baby. It’s hard that I don’t see him as much. I know now that he’s an adult and I’m trying to trust You, God.

July 20, 2012 my last journal before Drey took his life: I don’t want Drey to hurt or experience pain. I want to protect him. I know that’s not always possible. You love us perfectly and we reject You all the time. Your perfect son who never rejected You died for us. You poured out Your wrath on Him. How hard that must have been. I simply can’t fathom it. God please help me to trust You with Drey and with all my circumstances. Help me to draw close to You. Please comfort me Holy Spirit. I hurt. I’m confused. I’m fearful. Please comfort me.

What I’ve been doing in the Suicide Prevention space…

Jan27

I’ve learned more about my pace and how to gauge my ability to enter the Suicide Prevention Nonprofit space. 

I didn’t touch it – no research, no questions, no nothing until June, 2013.  That was 10 months after Drey had died.  And I had to take it slow.  I learned that I needed to take it slow the hard way.  I guess that’s the best lesson.  I hesitate in sharing what I’ve learned and what I’ve engaged in because the majority of people that read this won’t care – at least not much.  But then again… I started this blog for me.  As a big part of my healing.  So if I’m ready and wanting to summarize what’s taken place to date then I guess I oughta.

I’ve connected with people at the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.  I’ve met them, learned more about how the organization functions and coordinated a team walk last October.  We had 40 people attend and raise over $3,500.  For the record… I would’ve been even happier if we had 100 people and had only raised $1,000.  The love I feel by having others come out and remember Drey means the world to me.   Erase the stigma… TALK about him and about suicide and depression.  Don’t sweep it under the rug.

I’ve joined the field advocacy team for AFSP, too.  What’s that mean?  It means a handful of staff of AFSP keep me and other volunteers updated on what legislation – local and federal – is being considered, passed, etc that relates to suicide prevention/mental health. They also provide suggested language for writing local and federal officials. And of course I add my own $.02. I don’t know if it’s making a difference or not. I hope so.

I spoke at the Delaware/Morrow County Suicide Prevention walk and at their Annual Meeting. I got to share about Drey. I love talking about him. I showed everyone at the Annual Meeting one of his senior pictures, too. I’m sure that wasn’t necessarily part of the agenda but who cares. He’s not a suicide statistic. He’s my baby, my boy. Drey. I’m grateful for the people I met through doing that – one gentleman in particular has been really helpful in understanding the “players” in this space and helping me to navigate it.

I met with one of our State Representatives and shared my story and Drey’s story with her. My main purpose for my meeting with her is not one I’ve shared with many people… in large part because I haven’t actioned the outcome and I’m a bit ashamed? Embarrassed? Not sure what word to use. Drey had been taking acne medication at the time of his death. And one of the side effects of the medication was suicidal thoughts/ideation. He was only issued one month’s worth at a time and would have to go in for blood work before he’d get another 30-day supply. So I’m comfortable the doctor was cautious. And I have no way of knowing if this contributed to his suicide. I do believe it’s a safe bet it sure as hell didn’t help matters though. So… I met with this State Rep to ask about getting a law passed around how doctors communicate what depression and suicidal behavior and thoughts might look like before and during administering the meds. The first time Drey was on this medication he was a minor so I was there with him. The doc asked, “are you feeling depressed” and some basic questions. That wasn’t enough in my opinion. How about asking, “Does depression or anxiety run in your family? If so, this could be an indicator of increased susceptibility to suicidal thoughts on this medication.” And how about talking about what happens if alcohol or other drugs are in the mix along with the meds? We could’ve been more informed. So… the State Rep shared a piece of legislation she thought would be a good fit to add my request as an addendum. She gave me the bill (all 50+ pages of it) and the name of the Rep that was trying to get it passed. The bill still sits on my night stand – next to Drey’s ashes and one of my fave pictures of us. Pacing myself… it’s important. I just haven’t been ready to engage that doctor or that issue. Not yet.

What I’ve really pursued more than anything else is “Postvention.” Postvention is helping those who have lost someone to suicide. I’ve learned they (we!) are one of the larger “at risk” groups for suicide. I’ve learned that both statistically and from my personal experience. I am now part of the Franklin County Suicide Prevention Coalition. And in that role I am working on a strategic plan around Postvention. What services do we currently have? Are we communicating what our resources are as effectively as possible? What programs/resources do we want to implement? One program we’d like to implement is a LOSS (Local Outreach to Suicide Survivors) team. This is a first responder team of 2-3 people that go to the scene of a suicide. One of the three people that goes is an actual survivor of a suicide. The single purpose for being there is to point the new survivors to resources that they can reach out to WHEN THEY ARE READY. After being trained and learning more about the LOSS teams (they are in other states and a few are here in Ohio – but not in Columbus) I’ve come to understand when a survivor can meet someone who just lost a loved one and can make even a few second connection and let them know they, too, lost a son to suicide (in my case) that the doors often open to follow up conversations and eventual healing. What an important role to play. God has blessed me to lead these efforts which includes meeting with law enforcement officials, the Coroner, mental health agencies and so on. Our goal is to launch in the Fall of 2014. Will I be able to be part of a first responder LOSS team? I don’t know. One step at a time. For now I plan, organize, champion, and communicate.

A big piece of my healing has been engaging in this Suicide Prevention space. Will that be the case a year from now? I don’t know. I don’t need to know. I’m just learning to be grateful for the strength God’s given me for today.

Scrappy and needy – all rolled up in one

Jan22

Last weekend at a concert a 20ish year old dude got mouthy when Robbie asked (well – told) him basically to shut up. Robbie’s words weren’t that harsh but he was frustrated and that came through in his tone. The guy had been talking loudly, non-stop through the first 4 bands that played. We really wanted to hear the music. After Robbie spoke and the dude began to retaliate I turned around and told him the concert was important to us. That I had lost my son and the music we were there to hear meant a lot to us (yep it was a Christian music concert. The light of Christ was shining oh so brightly during this exchange!). He said that didn’t have anything to do with him – I was projecting my issues on him. Needless to say I didn’t take that comment too well. My inner sense of “that’s not fair!” was triggered and I was ready to fight. I’ve always been a bit scrappy. Apparently I think I’m tough enough to take on anyone. Thankfully the friend he was with apologized to us and they changed seats.
Big tough me that was ready to fight then spent the next 45 minutes sobbing in the middle of the concert. I was crushed. Crushed that someone didn’t care enough about my son’s death to simply be quiet during a concert. Crushed that God allowed that exchange to happen. I found myself wishing Drey’s friends were there – they would’ve kicked his ass. They would’ve shown him what it looks like to care about a Mom who lost her boy. Wait. Stop. Where did that line of thinking come from?? It caught me a bit off guard. I didn’t realize there was this thread woven into the “new, bereaved me” that wants others that loved Drey – besides my husband – to defend and protect me.
Yet another loss to grieve. The loss of Drey as an adult man that would’ve looked out for his Mom. I’m brought to my knees yet again asking God to be my protector, my defender.
I’m tired, I’m sad, I ache. This grief is still heavy. I miss you so, baby.

Be Still

Be Still

Grateful to meet Plumb

Jan21

Grieving the death of my boy has been and continues to be indescribable.  And through the depths of this despair I have found God continually.  Loving me, comforting me, crying with me.  I’ve found Him through His Word, through friends, through running, through music. Plumb’s song Need You Now came out just after Drey had died. I’ve sobbed and belted out that song repeatedly. In my car, in the bathtub, everywhere. It is healing.
It’s helped me to be able to tell people how much they’ve helped me during this difficult 17 months and 13 days. In the depths of my pain I’ve also experienced a sense of gratitude that is so precious. Grateful to God for all of His provisions in the midst of this pain (I’ll save that for another blog). Grateful to my Mom and Dad for loving me, hurting with me, letting me stay with them and vacation with them. Grateful to my husband for his love and patience. Grateful to Drey’s friends who hurt and miss him and take the time to share that with me.
And last weekend I got to tell Plumb how healing her music has been for me. This picture shows her and one of her band members listening to me tell them about Drey, sharing a card with my blog on it, and showing them my tattoo of his name. Plumb was so kind to ask me questions about Drey. Thank you Plumb. For sharing your talent and the inspiration behind your lyrics. ❤
Got to tell Plumb how healing her music has been for me.

Plumb

Plumb

As time moves on its a blessing and a curse

Jan11

I just went through all your FB pics again baby. I do that every so often. In part because I still haven’t looked at any of the pics or videos I have of you here at home. It’s still too much to handle.
As time keeps marching forward I’m slowly integrating this – your very short 19 years and 21 days of life and your horrible, tragic death – into my life. Others who are further along than me in their grief journey tell me that in time I will slowly absorb you into my very being. The pain, the happy memories, everything. I’ll absorb it. You’ll just be part of me. I don’t fully understand that. But I might be getting slight glimpses into it now that the acute pain doesn’t throb 24/7. Over time it’s becoming a dull, lonely ache with the sharpness only flaring up instead of being a constant. As I look at your FB pics on my iPad I zoom in and touch your face. I play out memories of your laughter, our conversations. I try to remember your smell. The acute pain feels real good sometimes. Necessary. The sobbing flows freely. I wish I could hold you.
One of my favorite memories was our last vaca – especially of riding the go karts. I remember you asking me about the cost of all the park tickets – Disney, Busch Gardens, Sea World. You chuckled and said it was amazing how much less expensive the night racing go karts was but it was your favorite night of vaca. I wish I would’ve taken a pic of you racing – but I was too busy trying to kick your ass on each course! I’m grateful for the pic Robbie took just as we were leaving though. It captured a precious memory. Your smile was genuine. It was a great evening. I love you.

One of many wonderful memories of my boy.

One of many wonderful memories of my boy.

Learning to talk to people who don’t know…

Dec31

I have a job interview next week. My first in years. I’m grateful that God has me in a place to be picky with what I do next. It needs to be right for me. The culture, the role. I have far less concern about me being right for them. That feels really good! I’m blessed to be able to think out loud with my husband and a few close friends who know my performance-junkie tendencies about what it might look like to move back into the working world. I don’t want my career to be an idol. I don’t want it to be where I attempt to find my identity.
I’m giving thought to what I want to know about this organization with little worry or concern for how I’ll share about my experience. I feel confident with what I bring to the table. But but but…
There’s that question that’ll be asked. I worked full time for almost 30 years (omg – when did I get old?). But I’ve been unemployed for 9 months now. I’m not worried about how to respond to the question. I’m concerned about the “transition” questions. “My son died in August 2012. I immediately went back to work then decided in the Spring it’d be best to take some time off.” Easy enough, right? But I’ve been in this situation enough now that I know “my son died” can be a conversation stopper. The person typically searches for a “transition” question… “Oh, I’m so sorry. Do you have other kids?” “No. He was my only child.” They were hoping – without even realizing it – that the answer would be, “yes, my other children are Bob and Susie.” “Oh – how old are they…” And the conversation has been successfully and smoothly transitioned. Or another one has been… “Oh, I’m so sorry. Had he been ill?” “No. He died suddenly.” Again – a conversation stopper. I’m coming into these conversations more prepared than the other person. So I try to be ready to let them off the hook. But depending on the person that’s not always easy. It’s often downright awkward. And “awkward” is not a word I want to use when reflecting on how this interview went! So I have a plan for how to keep the interview moving forward by steering the transition direction myself. We’ll see how it goes. If it flops, it flops. That’s the freedom that comes with living through a tragedy by the grace of God. An ability to live with a humble confidence because after all, what’s the worst thing that’ll happen?

Christmas #2

Dec30

It feels as though Christmas may have been another turning point so to speak. Last Christmas I remember having to self-talk myself through the entire day. This year I had a few really good, hard crying spells at the end of the day. But through the day I enjoyed the people I was with in a subdued, reflective, melancholy kind of a way. I reflected on what was. I imagined what should have been. I just kinda took in each moment and savored the time. It was peaceful.
Christmas will never be what it used to be. And that’s okay. Given what’s happened how could I even want it to be the same? Yes, slowly I’m finding more peace. Peace in knowing I’ll carry this pain with me. Peace in knowing it’s become a little more manageable. Peace in knowing it’s okay that I’ll never be the same. Freedom too. Increasing freedom from worrying about the things that used to get to me. My perspective is different now. I don’t know if it’ll always be this way – if this will always be the lens I look through. And I don’t need to know. I’m slowly learning to appreciate each day for what it is without so much concern for the next. God has provided for me for nearly 17 months now in ways that I didn’t think were possible. Every tomorrow has to pass through His hands before I face it. I can live today.

Honor your memory

Dec23

There are some days that can’t go by without doing something in your memory. Christmas is one of those days. People talk about lighting a candle and having it burning all day or throughout dinner at a spot reserved for you. Maybe a charitable donation in your memory. I’ve considered looking at pictures of previous Christmas’s and maybe doing something special with them.

But here it is dec 23 and I haven’t been able to do anything. No tree – can’t look at ornaments you made or picked out during vacations. No pictures. I just can’t see them yet. This Christmas hasn’t been as gut-wrenching as last year. I’m grateful for that. But I’m still not “right.” “Normal.” “Clear thinking.” Whatever you want to call it. And I didn’t realize the importance of doing something to honor you – of planning something – for Christmas Day until this last weekend. I’ll be thinking of you all day. And I plan to re-read the cards people sent with memories and thoughts of you from last year. And I’d like to do something more. Something visible.

Your Dad seems to have found his footing more comfortably than me in this arena. Does that make you laugh baby? I bet it does! Your Dad being tender hearted and emotional – deliberately planning something special in your memory. And me – the sappy Mom who overflowed with emotions and plans while you were with me couldn’t be more clumsy and ill-prepared now that you’re not here. We made our plans for my first Mother’s Day without you the day of Mother’s Day. That’s hardly planning! And how we’d celebrate your birthday was decided on the day of, too. And we decided on dinner plans after your birthday! For August 8th I got ahead of the game – there was a plan a few days in advance. I know you’d be cracking up right now! You always made fun of me for being uptight. You never used that word but it’s what you meant. Remember on our last vaca I was worked up about something stupid that wasn’t going just the way I wanted it to? We were at Islands of Adventure, remember? You were walking with me. We were behind Robbie and David. You looked at me and said, “Mom it’s okay. Just relax.” And you demonstrated this thought for me by taking a deep breath when you said it. You loved me. I always knew that but I knew it in a different way at that moment. To have my child pointing out one of my flaws in a non-accusing way but rather out of concern. Wow. I reflected on that a lot afterwards. I felt blessed. Blessed by your love and blessed by your maturity.

So this Christmas Robbie – the organized one in the family (are you laughing again?!) – will decide what we can do to honor your memory.

I miss you. I love you.

Blessed by friends and memories

Dec18

I had coffee with a dear friend today.  She’s been in my life for over 20 years.  I am blessed to have so many close friends.  Like – real close.  Not just work buddies who go their separate ways when they don’t work together any more. 

She shared about her & her husband watching TV recently and they saw a little boy that reminded them of Drey.  They both said it – they both realized it.  So sweet.  So, so sweet to know this.  It is a heavy weight a Mom carries… the weight of keeping the memory of her child alive.  It’s precious as others share memories of Drey with me. I love hearing what they remember. And God does it ever feel good to smile when I think of him!

This is a picture from one of our Florida vacations. It was 2005. I love the look on David’s face – he was clearly so impressed with Drey’s cannon ball abilities! Sweet memory.

Cannon Ball 2005 - Drey impresses David!

Cannon Ball 2005 – Drey impresses David!

I miss you.

Dec17

I’m missing you big time. Big time. I just want to see you come through the door. I want to hear your voice. I want to feel your hug.

We used to talk about lots of stuff. I miss those conversations.

I remember you standing in front of the mirror in the downstairs bathroom and helping you with your earrings. That’s not something I thought I’d share with my son. Who’d you get your ears pierced with anyway?

I remember you studying at the dining room table in the Spring. You were listening to Kid Cudi and I started singing the lyrics. You weren’t surprised.

We were gonna get tattoos – I told you if you got the Romans 12:2 verse on your ribs I’d get “Romans 12:2” somewhere on me. You liked that bible passage. You liked the psalm the Braun’s included in your grad card too. Who knew I’d end up with 3 tattoo’s – all in your memory. At the JT concert a woman said, “You look like a soccer Mom. An inked up soccer Mom.” I am. Even when I’m 80 that’s what I’ll be. Cuz you’ll always be 19 in my memory.

There’s a lot of things I haven’t tackled yet. Maybe next year. Still no Christmas tree… Every ornament was so special. Baby’s first Christmas. Vacation memories. Hand made ones from when you were little. Hell no I can’t look at any of those and I sure can’t look at ’em for a month straight. I don’t know what to do with your clothes, your dresser, bookshelf. The rocking horse from your first Christmas. So they sit in your room. Your retainer. Your phone. Your wallet. The lotion you used on your face. Everything sits.

I miss you so much. I always want you to be part of Christmas. I’m so glad Grandma Kathy put out pics of you and a craft you and I made together for her years ago. And the Build A Bear for Grandpa Gene. I took pics of every step as you made it. I’m so glad Grandma and Grandpa saved those. You need to stay part of Christmas.

I miss you every day. But it’s especially deep with the Christmas season. And the new year. My birthday. And Easter. And vaca week, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, your bday, July 4 parade, in August, back to school shopping, trick or treat, and at the grocery store, the zoo, seeing nice cars and 19 year old kids, soccer fields, dentist appointments, being in worthington, driving past twhs. Awesome, Drey. Just awesome.