Tag Archive | hope

Year 4 is coming to a close

Aug1

Well… it’s August again.

I didn’t start dreading it until July 27th. That’s pretty good.

I seem to be functioning “okay” today… but it’s only August 1st so I won’t get my hopes up that the next few weeks will be easy.

I don’t have much scheduled this week and I leave town Sunday – no contact with anyone again till Wednesday. I dread it and I look forward to it. Maybe I’m finally learning to walk in these big clumsy grief shoes? I don’t fall so often now. And I know a little better about when to get down on my hands and knees and crawl instead of attempting to walk every day.

I do still hate when I mess up things that used to be so simple. Being organized was like breathing before 8.8.12 but even now – 4 years later – I still get so confused over the simplest of things. But what’s cool about this grief brain is that as I’m typing and looking outside I see our grass needs mowed and the entire yard needs weeded; but the word “needs” is no longer accurate because the yard just isn’t important. I think my husband likes that grief brain also means laid back brain when it comes to many things.

I used to ask God, “Is this as healed as I’ll get?” I don’t ask that question so much anymore. The realization that I’d always carry this pain sunk in sometime during year 2. And I discovered joy more frequently during year 3. And during year 4 I stopped searching aimlessly for permission to laugh and just began to laugh. And most recently I’ve slowly been learning to let tears flow whenever they need to without apologizing to anyone.

It is possible to miss my baby terribly, to sit with another survivor and cry with her, to laugh hysterically at Angie Tribeca, to read a volunteer report about a scene LOSS attended, to pray for those left behind and to smile at the thought of seeing my baby again in heaven all in the same day. How bout that?

Angie Tribeca Trailer – Flippin Hilarious show 🙂

 

Ever hopeful. 

Mar2

My husband’s birthday was Monday. He sent me a text midday that said “dad just called.”

My heart leaped even if only for a second! If Robbie heard from his dad maybe I’m going to hear from Drey?! And then I realized he was referring to my dad that had called him. Not his dad. 

Robbie’s dad died over 10 years ago. And somehow for just a brief moment I really thought he’d heard from his dad in heaven. OMG – Drey will be calling me! 

Okay… So this is silly and ridiculous. What was I thinking?

I am…

Ever hopeful. 

Ever anticipating. 

Ever longing. 

Within seconds reality sunk in of course. And that knot returned to my stomach. That knot of sorrow, pain and even dread. That knot that says, “this really happened. Drey’s dead.”That knot that was there 24/7 in 2012 and 2013.

Even on a good day Drey’s life and death are just beneath the surface of my thoughts. Maybe that will always be the case. Maybe this is as “healed” as I’ll get this side of heaven. 

But in spite of the reappearance of the dread knot, for just a few seconds I got to experience the anticipation of talking to Drey soon. It was a sweet reminder of what’s to come. 💚💜 

I am…

Ever hopeful. 

Ever anticipating. 

Ever longing. 

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

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.

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.

My new view 

Jul6

Drey’s death has revealed lots of character flaws… No wait…  Drey’s death has presented me with more opportunities to cooperate with God as He’s been working on my character. That sounds better. There’s nothing like a tragedy that knocks you off your feet, forces bittersweet dependence and produces fertile ground for sanctification. 

I am grateful for the new view I have. It’s peaceful. 

I am not grateful for how I got here. It’s gut wrenching.      

I’m coolio with the sacrifices I’ve had to make since Drey died. 

I’m devastated over why I’ve had to make the sacrifices I have. 

I live at a delightfully, refreshing pace more often. 

I wish I could’ve learned this pace without losing Drey.

I couldn’t do what I do without passion. God knew what He was doing. He prepared me the best He could. He was infinitely joyful, angry and devastated the day Drey was born. All at the same time. He knew. He sees all. He’s not limited by time. To see a new mothers love and at the same time to know the heartbreak her future held. To delight in the joy of a little boy scoring his first soccer goal while knowing the psychological pain he would soon experience. Surely the only thing more painful than what we live with would have been knowing what was coming ahead of time. How does God handle feelings of intense joy and devastation at the same time?  He knows how the story ends. There’s no other explanation. Can I have faith in what He’s told me about the end of the story?

Guilt after suicide. Oh – and First Watch on Sunday!

Jun26

One of the worst things about losing someone to suicide is the guilt. Don’t get me wrong… there’s plenty of pain not related to guilt, too. But I can rattle off dozens – maybe even hundreds – of reasons why my son’s death is my fault. From that Mai tai I drank 3 weeks into my pregnancy (I didn’t know I was pregnant yet) that I’m certain caused a faulty serotonin development level in his brain (aka: depression) to getting a text message that said. “Hey – I love you” and not immediately going to make sure he was ok.

It’s not just me. I hear it from other survivors, too.

Robbie tries to reassure me that I was a great mom. That Drey knew I loved him. At one point I told Robbie Drey killed himself because I let him play violent video games when he was too young. He reminded me of the time Drey’s friend had Grand Theft Auto and Drey wanted to play. 6th or 7th grade maybe? I made Drey and his friend play it in front of me and I asked questions about what they thought of the different things they saw. Good Mom, right? Thank you for that reminder, Robbie. I did care, I was engaged. So my index finger formed a check mark in the air. Meaning what? I got one right? Now I can be guilt-free? I’m constantly grading myself. And every parenting choice I ever made is all or nothing. Pass or fail. It either sits on the side of the ledger that contributed to Drey’s death or it sits on the side that communicated my love for him. Nothing’s neutral.

I experience relief from the guilt when I don’t think about it. In the beginning I couldn’t help but to think about it 24/7. Then after the first year or so I was able to control my thoughts – sometimes. Or at least catch myself sooner. You know, before my thoughts turned into a ruminating pile of “I should have” pain. 

I don’t share this so friends will feel sorry for me and tell me it wasn’t my fault. What’s most helpful is to acknowledge my ache of responsibility… don’t attempt to convince me otherwise. Only God can do that. So pray, pray, pray.

I share this for fellow guilt-ridden survivors. You are not alone. I know it hurts like hell. The pit of despair is gut-wrenching. AND WE HAVE TO LEARN TO LIVE WITH IT. The relief I experience from reminding myself of when I “got it right” is fleeting. And my ability to block out the guilty thoughts is completely unsustainable. The only true relief comes from acknowledging I am not a perfect parent.  God is! Yep – here I go gettin all religious and shit. The football stadium verse – John 3:16 “For God so loved the world that He gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” Why did He send His son to overcome death? 1) Because God is holy and righteous. He couldn’t just willy nilly grade on a curve and say some character flaws are ok and others aren’t. Our imperfection had to be paid for in order to be in His presence for eternity. 2) Because God loves us perfectly and wants us with Him. How could He not provide a way to be with the loves of His life?! He delights in us!

So I remain in the fight. Sometimes the guilt wins my mood, sometimes peace does. I’ve learned to steer clear of scenarios like this Sunday… the teaching/church service is from Ephesians 6 on parenting. No thank you. Instead First Watch and Floridian French toast – or maybe fresh fruit crepes? are calling my name 🙂 Oh – and coffee with lotsa hazelnut creamer! Num num num! Want to join me? First Watch Sunday at 10a – German Village on High St. 

Thank You for loving me, God. Thank You for knowing what it’s like to lose your only son. I’m never alone.