I sat this morning looking at the obituary page. I was not seeing the faces and words of people who had died but instead I saw the faces of the families of these people. These weren't just names on a paper but they were someone's mother, son, uncle, grandparent. For each one of the names there was a family out there who was suffering. There was a family out there trying to make sense of their loved one's death. There was a family out there who was planning a funeral. My heart broke for them. I knew their pain.
We awoke that morning numb from crying out in the middle of the night. Startling awake with the hope that maybe it was just a dream. But no it wasn't. How do you get up the morning after your child dies? How do you walk into the kitchen and fix breakfast? How do you face the people who want to help?
I awoke that morning and laid there. Unable to comprehend what had happened. Having to relive each moment the day before. Bart lay beside me breathing quietly but I knew he was awake doing the same thing. Softly he told me we needed to get up and get ready to go to the funeral home. No. No I don't want to hear those words. I get up but shut my mind down. I go into the bathroom not recognizing the face staring back. That woman looks so old, so sad, so lonely, so helpless. I brush my teeth and put on my makeup. Yes, the ritual of getting ready will maybe bring my life back into control. But it doesn't.
We move to the living and sit. Friends are already there making coffee and putting food in our hands telling us to eat. The food has no taste and will barely go down my throat. The boys look so lost. Their eyes are so sad I can barely look at them. I can't let them out of my sight. Any time Bart or the boys leave the room I begin to panic. They quickly come back to reassure me that everything is ok but it isn't. My son is dead and we have to go plan his funeral.
We go to Mercer Adams. We did this same thing almost 6 months to the date for my dad. I thought at that time it was the most painful thing I would ever do. It wasn't. This was. Bart and the boys literally hold me up and help me cross the threshold of the funeral home. We were met by Randy Gordon a family friend from childhood. He will help us. When we go into the room with the long wooden table. I sit down and put my head on the table. I can't stop crying and shaking. I do not think I can do this. I want to throw up. I tell Bart please don't make me do this. Please make it stop. Please bring my baby back. Bart so lovingly puts his arms around me and tells me we will take it slow.
Randy begins asking the questions. I really can't remember any of it. I just know the entire time I have my head on the table with my eyes shut tight. I cry I shake and I want to die. Randy asks if we want to look at the book with the coffins. Tell me how do you pick out a coffin for your child? I scream no. No, I don't want to see their pictures. I want the wooden one. Just pick the wooden one. Please don't make me look. I squeeze my eyes shut and feel my heart pounding. I can not do this.
Soon it is over. The arrangements are made. I have to stand up. But I can't open my eyes. Bart and the boys lead me out of the funeral home refusing to look at where I am as if I can shut the world out. We drive home in silence. I fear we will never speak again.
People come and go all day long. People ask about pictures. Bart leaves and comes back. He has gone to the cemetery and picks out where we will bury our son without me. I sit on the couch totally unaware of the world around me. I see but I don't. I hear but I don't.
But I do remember one conversation. It shook me out of my daze. A former church member asked me if I thought Jacob was in Heaven? I turned and looked at her and asked what? She said well, she hadn't seen much fruit of the spirit. With all the restraint I could muster I looked at her and said YES. Yes, he is in Heaven. I was there when he was 5 years old and asked Jesus into his heart. I was there when he would come home from kindergarten crying because one of his friends didn't know Jesus and Momma can we pray for him? I was there when he prayed and studied his Bible and witnessed to his friends. I was there when he rededicated his life as a teen. I was there when he would talk to me about his sorrow and how he wanted to do better. No he wasn't living a perfect life. Yes, he had doubts but I know what the Bible says and when God saves you He uses a permanent marker to put His name on you not washable ink. I looked at her and said unless you die the moment you ask Jesus into your heart then you are a Christian who has sinned. Yes, Jacob died not living the way he should but I know his heart and I know where he is.
Today, a friend shared her children's conversation and I think sometimes we have to see things through a child's eyes to get it. They were discussing what Jesus looked like. Finally, the little girl said I guess we just don't know what He looks like. But you know, Jacob does. He is looking at Him right now.
A year and a half later she remembers Jacob's heart and his love for Jesus and she knows where he is today. She gets it. I hope you get it too. Without Jesus' love we are nothing and we would be hopeless when someone dies. But because He died on a cross for you and me and the likes of Jacob Selby then we have hope that someday we will live eternally with Him. I didn't lose my son. I know exactly where he is. Miss you sweet boy.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Vacations, a detour today.
I sent Kyler off to New York to visit Cheyanne's family. Zachary is talking about where do go for grad school. Thought I needed to post about a happy time this morning rather than about planning Jacob's funeral. We will save that for next time.
Vacations. Bart and I have never gone on a vacation without our children. Some may say that is bad and now that they are grown I too think hmmmm how will we ever go on vacation just the two of us? But our philosophy was if we can't take the kids why would we want to go. We enjoy our children so much at every stage. Our favorite vacation place is Red River NM. I know doesn't sound that thrilling. One year we planned a huge trip to Disney World in September. Zachary asked if we would be going to Red River in October during break like we always have? I told him no we were flying to Florida and spending a week at Disney World. He said, "No, I don't want to go. If it means we can't go to Red River then I don't want to go. I would rather go to Red River than anywhere in the world." We went to both. The Disney trip is where I earned my title the tour director from Hell from my mother in law. I got a book on how to do Disney. Lets just say we saw everything there was to see in 5 short days. We had to come back just to rest.
I have gone to Red River every year since I was a small child. We even honeymooned there. It is an idyllic place. Surrounded by beautiful mountains a little valley of paradise. The place we stayed when I was little was right by the river. It was so safe that my parents and their friends would go ride motorcycles while we played by the river and ran around town. The town is filled with shops of all kinds. In the summer the town is filled with people. They have square dances, bingo, an arcade, jeeps and four wheelers, fishing, putt putt and hiking. My kids soon discovered they like it better in the off season of Fall Break. The town is deserted and there isn't as much to do. This meant we got up every morning fixed breakfast to the beauty of the mountains. Played board games all day, went hiking and four wheeling and didn't have to deal with the hassles of the crowd. We would spend 4 glorious days together with no distractions just enjoying each other. They loved the undivided attention.
I remember one day while riding four wheelers in the mountain all 5 of us. I looked out at the beauty and thought this is what Heaven must be like. I was at complete peace filled with such joy being with the 4 other people I loved the most. I never wanted the moment to end. If I could capture that feeling in a bottle I would be a millionaire.
We took my parents sometimes or Bart's mom and sister. Every night we would go to bed exhausted from the activities but such peace at knowing we were all together. No matter how stressed my life was as we topped that final mountain and looked down on the valley I could feel every bit of stress just fleeing.
My father died in August of 09. So when our trip time came my mother did not want to go. I told her she had to face her grief and daddy would want her to go. So we packed her and my mother in law and left. It was a hard trip because my father so loved the place. We stayed at a brand new place so the memories wouldn't be there. We had a wonderful time. Jacob always slept on the couch downstairs. Regardless that there were 5 other bedrooms. It was his. Wherever we went he slept on the couch. I think he didn't want to miss anything. That year the boys had a bonfire outside our house and it was beautiful looking back at pictures of their faces, the three of them laughing while roasting marshmallows and just hanging out with the brothers. I will cherish those memories
This year when Fall Break rolled around I remembered my words to my mother, you must face your grief. I couldn't. The thought of topping that mountain road and looking down on the beautiful valley that has given me such joy without my precious child was and is still too much. Someday I hope to be strong enough to go. But right now just thought of it reduces me to tears. His presence would be everywhere. One of our last four wheeler trips I was riding behind him and demanded to be left off. Jacob was quite the daredevil. He loved to drive right close to the edge of the mountain especially when I was on behind him. One trip he was doing donuts in a sandy area. I was standing there watching screaming for him to slow down when all of the sudden I saw the four wheeler leave the ground and make a complete flip with Jacob flying in slow motion towards me. The four wheeler landed upright Jacob landed at my feet. The air went out of us all. Then he began laughing about how cool that was. If you wondered why I have gray hair this is it. But everyone was ok. Dad and Kyler got on the four wheeler and started riding again. About 3 minutes later the axle broke into. Everyone just stopped. Hmmmmm
The first father's day after Jacob died I planned a surprise trip to Chicago for Bart to see the Cubs. Lets just say my husband does not do surprises well I learned. But that is for another time. It was an emotional trip because it was our first trip as a family of four. It was ever present. We stopped at a restaurant and the hostess asked Kyler how many? He said 5 then looked at me with tears in his eyes and said no 4. It was a huge turning point for us. We were no longer 5 but 4. It totally changes the dynamics. Dinners are not quite as loud, car rides are not quite as crowded, Jacob loved to stretch out over his brothers and they let him. So many things change when you are a family of 4 not 5
Vacations. Bart and I have never gone on a vacation without our children. Some may say that is bad and now that they are grown I too think hmmmm how will we ever go on vacation just the two of us? But our philosophy was if we can't take the kids why would we want to go. We enjoy our children so much at every stage. Our favorite vacation place is Red River NM. I know doesn't sound that thrilling. One year we planned a huge trip to Disney World in September. Zachary asked if we would be going to Red River in October during break like we always have? I told him no we were flying to Florida and spending a week at Disney World. He said, "No, I don't want to go. If it means we can't go to Red River then I don't want to go. I would rather go to Red River than anywhere in the world." We went to both. The Disney trip is where I earned my title the tour director from Hell from my mother in law. I got a book on how to do Disney. Lets just say we saw everything there was to see in 5 short days. We had to come back just to rest.
I have gone to Red River every year since I was a small child. We even honeymooned there. It is an idyllic place. Surrounded by beautiful mountains a little valley of paradise. The place we stayed when I was little was right by the river. It was so safe that my parents and their friends would go ride motorcycles while we played by the river and ran around town. The town is filled with shops of all kinds. In the summer the town is filled with people. They have square dances, bingo, an arcade, jeeps and four wheelers, fishing, putt putt and hiking. My kids soon discovered they like it better in the off season of Fall Break. The town is deserted and there isn't as much to do. This meant we got up every morning fixed breakfast to the beauty of the mountains. Played board games all day, went hiking and four wheeling and didn't have to deal with the hassles of the crowd. We would spend 4 glorious days together with no distractions just enjoying each other. They loved the undivided attention.
I remember one day while riding four wheelers in the mountain all 5 of us. I looked out at the beauty and thought this is what Heaven must be like. I was at complete peace filled with such joy being with the 4 other people I loved the most. I never wanted the moment to end. If I could capture that feeling in a bottle I would be a millionaire.
We took my parents sometimes or Bart's mom and sister. Every night we would go to bed exhausted from the activities but such peace at knowing we were all together. No matter how stressed my life was as we topped that final mountain and looked down on the valley I could feel every bit of stress just fleeing.
My father died in August of 09. So when our trip time came my mother did not want to go. I told her she had to face her grief and daddy would want her to go. So we packed her and my mother in law and left. It was a hard trip because my father so loved the place. We stayed at a brand new place so the memories wouldn't be there. We had a wonderful time. Jacob always slept on the couch downstairs. Regardless that there were 5 other bedrooms. It was his. Wherever we went he slept on the couch. I think he didn't want to miss anything. That year the boys had a bonfire outside our house and it was beautiful looking back at pictures of their faces, the three of them laughing while roasting marshmallows and just hanging out with the brothers. I will cherish those memories
This year when Fall Break rolled around I remembered my words to my mother, you must face your grief. I couldn't. The thought of topping that mountain road and looking down on the beautiful valley that has given me such joy without my precious child was and is still too much. Someday I hope to be strong enough to go. But right now just thought of it reduces me to tears. His presence would be everywhere. One of our last four wheeler trips I was riding behind him and demanded to be left off. Jacob was quite the daredevil. He loved to drive right close to the edge of the mountain especially when I was on behind him. One trip he was doing donuts in a sandy area. I was standing there watching screaming for him to slow down when all of the sudden I saw the four wheeler leave the ground and make a complete flip with Jacob flying in slow motion towards me. The four wheeler landed upright Jacob landed at my feet. The air went out of us all. Then he began laughing about how cool that was. If you wondered why I have gray hair this is it. But everyone was ok. Dad and Kyler got on the four wheeler and started riding again. About 3 minutes later the axle broke into. Everyone just stopped. Hmmmmm
The first father's day after Jacob died I planned a surprise trip to Chicago for Bart to see the Cubs. Lets just say my husband does not do surprises well I learned. But that is for another time. It was an emotional trip because it was our first trip as a family of four. It was ever present. We stopped at a restaurant and the hostess asked Kyler how many? He said 5 then looked at me with tears in his eyes and said no 4. It was a huge turning point for us. We were no longer 5 but 4. It totally changes the dynamics. Dinners are not quite as loud, car rides are not quite as crowded, Jacob loved to stretch out over his brothers and they let him. So many things change when you are a family of 4 not 5
Monday, June 27, 2011
Happiness and Joy? Will it ever be again?
Happiness and Joy have always filled our house. I love the sounds of teens laughter and music filling our house throughout the day and late into the night. We always wanted our house to be the go to house so we opened it completely. We built a swimming pool, hot tub, game room, music building just so they would feel at home. This meant we spent a lot of nights, Bart and I, in our bedroom with the tv turned up loud so we could hear. But that was wonderful to fall asleep in the room next to a living room full of people laughter and life.
Once again our living room was full of people but they weren't laughing and the life seemed drained from them. Everywhere I looked, every inch of space was covered with people but sorrow filled their eyes and they spoke in hushed whispers. A new person would enter the house and the tears and hugs would follow but soon they too would take a post and not know what to say. We were all at a loss for words. How do you put into words the depth of the sorrow felt that first night. That waiting for what to do next. We all sat and waited. Waited for what? For someone to say it wasn't true, to say why? Why did this happen? How did it happen? Who was to blame? Those answers would come much later. Right now we did not even have the ability to form those questions out loud.
Food was brought in. The first thing we do when we hear of someone dying is bring food. It is a wonderful tradition to keep the people who are grieving from having to cook but food is so hard to consume. I sat on that couch and watched the people come and go, hug and cry, comfort and pray but all I wanted to do was die. I wanted to sit on the couch and no longer exist. How would I ever be able to get up the next morning knowing I would never be able to hug my precious son again? How would I ever be able to breathe again knowing he no longer existed. How does one who is so filled with life quit living? How does the heart just stop? I wanted my heart to stop. I wanted to lay down and die so the pain would quit. Every nerve in my body screamed out to put an end to this pain. But instead I sat on the couch and watched the room. I hugged when I needed to. I spoke when spoken to. I ate when I was told to. But I wouldn't leave my couch.
Friends tried to get me to lie down in the bedroom for a bit. Rest. Every time I would close my eyes U would see his face in the ER. Still today I don't do well closing my eyes in silence. The pain was and is so great that at times my skin even hurts. It is so all consuming.
So back to the couch to wait. Wait. Wait for the last hurdle. Zachary coming home. Friends were able to get him plane immediately home. I needed all of my family under this roof before I could lay my head down. But that wouldn't happen because one of my family was at the medical examiner's office. Alone. Alone all alone and I could not bare to even begin to think of that picture. Again your mind shuts down. We wait. I begin to think of Zachary packing to come home. Come home to a life that will never be the same. Come home to big brother who has looked up to, his best friend, dead. How is he wrapping his mind around this? How does he get on that plane and make his way home to be greeted by all of this?
Someone leaves. They are going to pick him up. I can't leave the couch. My safe place. The place I must sit to keep from running. Soon I hear the car doors and I know he is walking up the drive. He is reaching the porch where so many times before he has come home to find his brother sitting there reading a book and smoking a cigarette. How can I face him? I have failed him. I have failed to keep his brother safe. I have failed to keep his life in balance. I have failed. I hear the door opening and I turn my head to see his broken body enter. Our eyes meet and the sadness in them is unbearable. We run to each other and hang on. Hang on to the hope that some how our lives will survive. He crumbles and I crumble into him. Bart and Kyler are there to hold us up. The eyes in the room are turned down. This moment is so private. A family broken but forever held tight by the love in the room and the love of God. God's presence is felt. His heart is broken for us. The depth of sorrow in this room surpasses any I have ever felt. To put one foot in front of the other is too hard. We move back to the couch. The island of safety. The questions come that I can't answer. My heart breaks all over as I watch my two boys hold each other and grieve for what they have lost. I have lost a child but they have lost their hero, their best friend, their brother. a part of them is gone forever.
Once again our living room was full of people but they weren't laughing and the life seemed drained from them. Everywhere I looked, every inch of space was covered with people but sorrow filled their eyes and they spoke in hushed whispers. A new person would enter the house and the tears and hugs would follow but soon they too would take a post and not know what to say. We were all at a loss for words. How do you put into words the depth of the sorrow felt that first night. That waiting for what to do next. We all sat and waited. Waited for what? For someone to say it wasn't true, to say why? Why did this happen? How did it happen? Who was to blame? Those answers would come much later. Right now we did not even have the ability to form those questions out loud.
Food was brought in. The first thing we do when we hear of someone dying is bring food. It is a wonderful tradition to keep the people who are grieving from having to cook but food is so hard to consume. I sat on that couch and watched the people come and go, hug and cry, comfort and pray but all I wanted to do was die. I wanted to sit on the couch and no longer exist. How would I ever be able to get up the next morning knowing I would never be able to hug my precious son again? How would I ever be able to breathe again knowing he no longer existed. How does one who is so filled with life quit living? How does the heart just stop? I wanted my heart to stop. I wanted to lay down and die so the pain would quit. Every nerve in my body screamed out to put an end to this pain. But instead I sat on the couch and watched the room. I hugged when I needed to. I spoke when spoken to. I ate when I was told to. But I wouldn't leave my couch.
Friends tried to get me to lie down in the bedroom for a bit. Rest. Every time I would close my eyes U would see his face in the ER. Still today I don't do well closing my eyes in silence. The pain was and is so great that at times my skin even hurts. It is so all consuming.
So back to the couch to wait. Wait. Wait for the last hurdle. Zachary coming home. Friends were able to get him plane immediately home. I needed all of my family under this roof before I could lay my head down. But that wouldn't happen because one of my family was at the medical examiner's office. Alone. Alone all alone and I could not bare to even begin to think of that picture. Again your mind shuts down. We wait. I begin to think of Zachary packing to come home. Come home to a life that will never be the same. Come home to big brother who has looked up to, his best friend, dead. How is he wrapping his mind around this? How does he get on that plane and make his way home to be greeted by all of this?
Someone leaves. They are going to pick him up. I can't leave the couch. My safe place. The place I must sit to keep from running. Soon I hear the car doors and I know he is walking up the drive. He is reaching the porch where so many times before he has come home to find his brother sitting there reading a book and smoking a cigarette. How can I face him? I have failed him. I have failed to keep his brother safe. I have failed to keep his life in balance. I have failed. I hear the door opening and I turn my head to see his broken body enter. Our eyes meet and the sadness in them is unbearable. We run to each other and hang on. Hang on to the hope that some how our lives will survive. He crumbles and I crumble into him. Bart and Kyler are there to hold us up. The eyes in the room are turned down. This moment is so private. A family broken but forever held tight by the love in the room and the love of God. God's presence is felt. His heart is broken for us. The depth of sorrow in this room surpasses any I have ever felt. To put one foot in front of the other is too hard. We move back to the couch. The island of safety. The questions come that I can't answer. My heart breaks all over as I watch my two boys hold each other and grieve for what they have lost. I have lost a child but they have lost their hero, their best friend, their brother. a part of them is gone forever.
Friday, June 24, 2011
I have been amazed at the support from this blog. What started out as a healing process has by the grace of God been healing for others as well. I have been amazed at the personal comments sent to me by people. I knew there were others who had these same feelings and thoughts but I stand in awe how God uses a tragedy to touch so many others. God tells us that everything will work together to glorify Him. Did God cause Jacob's death? No. Did he allow it? Yes, because we have free will. Did it take Him by surprise? No. He knew the moment Jacob was conceived the day he would die. Did He desire it? No but it happened and rather than let Satan use it for his glory God will use it to reach others and bring glory to Him. At first when people would tell me how Jacob's death had reached so many people and their faith strengthened or their child had quit using my initial reaction was the hell with them. I would rather have my son back than their life improved. Can't believe I just shared those actual thoughts but it is true. My first thought was those people can burn in hell if only my son can come back. That is the mother side of me. But with time I see how God has used Jacob's death to bring others closer to Him and change lives. I appreciate it now. I don't like it but I see a little of the big picture.
I recently read Mary Beth Chapman's book about the death of their daughter. Her son spoke at the funeral and gave a beautiful illustration about grief. I loved it. He compared it to looking at a beautiful painting up close. When you stand with nose right next to the picture it is hard to see the beauty. It is difficult to look at. But as you move away from the picture it starts to come into focus and soon you can see the whole picture and its beauty. Grief is like this. Right now I am very close to it. I can't see its beauty. But as time passes I move back a little and start to see it differently. Someday, when I go to Heaven I will be able to see the whole picture as God sees it. But right now I am still too close. But I have hope that one day I will understand the whys.
I am also so thankful for the responses because it shows me how many people out their care. God has blessed us with so many friends in our lives. Our house has been a home, a haven for so many. When our kids were little we wanted it to be the go to house. I would rather have a house full of kids and everything in a mess than have my kids at someone else's house and everything in its place. I love the sound of laughter and music in our house. Jacob was the same way. He loved people. If he had 45 friends he would be sad that he didn't have 46. He was a people person. When he was little to discipline him we would send him to his room. He hated it. He would sit right on the very edge of the door frame so as to still be in his room but as close to us as possible. Zach on the other hand loved being sent to his room. He loved the privacy and quietness. As his punishment he was sent to other's peoples houses. Many times we would say you have to go to so and so's house to play. He would pout. Jacob would be thrilled. He hated being alone. He also loved for the house to be filled with people.
So when we walked into our house the day he died the silence was overwhelming. While riding home with Kyler from the hospital I began to text people and ask them to come. Come help us figure out what to do. Do you just go home and turn on the tv and act like life is normal. How do you leave the hospital and just go home. How do you call people and say, "Hey can you come over and comfort me. My son just died." My heart breaks for those people who don't have those supports already in place. We had friends that all I had to do was text, Jacob has died please help me. They immediately showed up. They showed up and took over. For the next four days they helped us eat, sleep, dress and breathe.
I am not sure how we would have handled it all without them.
W entered our house and the silence engulfed us. Jacob's presence was everywhere but it was silent. We sat on the couch numb and lifeless. Where do you begin? How do you begin? You sit. You let
tv or what people were saying and then repeating it in my brain. While I was repeating it in my brain I was listening to their next sentence. That takes a lot of concentration and you are not able to think of anything else. I would close my eyes and do this. For days I did not hear what people were saying to me because I was doing this in my head. I still do it now at night when I can't sleep. I listen to the tv and repeat it word for word .
I don't know how others deal with grief but I was shutting down. If I could just keep my brain thinking others words than my own reality did not have to live.
I opened my eyes at one time and saw the living room filled with people. They were all just staring at us. I am sure they were talking but in my mind they were just staring with such sad eyes. Their eyes still haunt me. I felt so bad for them. When people would come in the room to see us and hug I found myself apologizes to them. I felt so bad that my child had hurt them like this. I wanted to take their pain away. I had separated myself from the pain. I had started to shut down and stuff my own feelings.
The house at one time had probably 100 people in it from all ages and walks. I felt so responsible for their pain. I just wanted to go back to that morning and redo it all. I begin to obsess with what if I had made that call at 9 am when I picked up the phone and put it back down because I didn't want to wake him. Would he still be alive? What if I had demanded he come home the night before? What if...My mind can not take anymore. I can't breathe, my heart is racing and the tears are flowing. Panic ensues. How am I going to live? I don't want to live? Where is Kyler? Where is Bart? Why isn't Zachary here yet? I want my family on this couch with me. I am paralyzed with fear and can't move off the couch.
Friends realize the panic and try to get me to lay down. I can't. The silence in my room is worse. Finally, a friend calls my doctor for something to get me to rest. Xanax. The irony. The drug to help me is one of the drugs Jacob was abusing. What would give me rest would take his life.
I recently read Mary Beth Chapman's book about the death of their daughter. Her son spoke at the funeral and gave a beautiful illustration about grief. I loved it. He compared it to looking at a beautiful painting up close. When you stand with nose right next to the picture it is hard to see the beauty. It is difficult to look at. But as you move away from the picture it starts to come into focus and soon you can see the whole picture and its beauty. Grief is like this. Right now I am very close to it. I can't see its beauty. But as time passes I move back a little and start to see it differently. Someday, when I go to Heaven I will be able to see the whole picture as God sees it. But right now I am still too close. But I have hope that one day I will understand the whys.
I am also so thankful for the responses because it shows me how many people out their care. God has blessed us with so many friends in our lives. Our house has been a home, a haven for so many. When our kids were little we wanted it to be the go to house. I would rather have a house full of kids and everything in a mess than have my kids at someone else's house and everything in its place. I love the sound of laughter and music in our house. Jacob was the same way. He loved people. If he had 45 friends he would be sad that he didn't have 46. He was a people person. When he was little to discipline him we would send him to his room. He hated it. He would sit right on the very edge of the door frame so as to still be in his room but as close to us as possible. Zach on the other hand loved being sent to his room. He loved the privacy and quietness. As his punishment he was sent to other's peoples houses. Many times we would say you have to go to so and so's house to play. He would pout. Jacob would be thrilled. He hated being alone. He also loved for the house to be filled with people.
So when we walked into our house the day he died the silence was overwhelming. While riding home with Kyler from the hospital I began to text people and ask them to come. Come help us figure out what to do. Do you just go home and turn on the tv and act like life is normal. How do you leave the hospital and just go home. How do you call people and say, "Hey can you come over and comfort me. My son just died." My heart breaks for those people who don't have those supports already in place. We had friends that all I had to do was text, Jacob has died please help me. They immediately showed up. They showed up and took over. For the next four days they helped us eat, sleep, dress and breathe.
I am not sure how we would have handled it all without them.
W entered our house and the silence engulfed us. Jacob's presence was everywhere but it was silent. We sat on the couch numb and lifeless. Where do you begin? How do you begin? You sit. You let
tv or what people were saying and then repeating it in my brain. While I was repeating it in my brain I was listening to their next sentence. That takes a lot of concentration and you are not able to think of anything else. I would close my eyes and do this. For days I did not hear what people were saying to me because I was doing this in my head. I still do it now at night when I can't sleep. I listen to the tv and repeat it word for word .
I don't know how others deal with grief but I was shutting down. If I could just keep my brain thinking others words than my own reality did not have to live.
I opened my eyes at one time and saw the living room filled with people. They were all just staring at us. I am sure they were talking but in my mind they were just staring with such sad eyes. Their eyes still haunt me. I felt so bad for them. When people would come in the room to see us and hug I found myself apologizes to them. I felt so bad that my child had hurt them like this. I wanted to take their pain away. I had separated myself from the pain. I had started to shut down and stuff my own feelings.
The house at one time had probably 100 people in it from all ages and walks. I felt so responsible for their pain. I just wanted to go back to that morning and redo it all. I begin to obsess with what if I had made that call at 9 am when I picked up the phone and put it back down because I didn't want to wake him. Would he still be alive? What if I had demanded he come home the night before? What if...My mind can not take anymore. I can't breathe, my heart is racing and the tears are flowing. Panic ensues. How am I going to live? I don't want to live? Where is Kyler? Where is Bart? Why isn't Zachary here yet? I want my family on this couch with me. I am paralyzed with fear and can't move off the couch.
Friends realize the panic and try to get me to lay down. I can't. The silence in my room is worse. Finally, a friend calls my doctor for something to get me to rest. Xanax. The irony. The drug to help me is one of the drugs Jacob was abusing. What would give me rest would take his life.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
My son had a disease
Today I digress. If my son had cancer you would pray for him and feel bad for him and see him through sympathetic eyes. But when you find out his disease was addiction I see in your eyes condemnation. I watch you shun him from church, social events and make him feel even less than he is already feeling. Alcoholism and addiction is a disease. It is a genetic disease that works a lot like an allergic reaction. When you or I drink or use, which I don't, we have a drink or we take a pain pill from the doctor. That is it. But when the addict does it his/her body does not process it the same way. It causes the body to go into overdrive and want/need more. It isn't about will power or bad character or bad parenting. It would be like me asking the diabetic to please just concentrate and produce insulin. It can't be done. No one knows if they have this genetic disease until they use. It is hereditary and is not a character flaw.
My father was an alcoholic. No, he didn't get drunk every day but when he drank he couldn't stop at one. He could go weeks or months without drinking but when he did drink there was no stopping until he passed out. Why do I feel the need to say but he was a wonderful man? Because society sees alcoholism as a character flaw. My dad and Jacob were so much alike. My dad would literally give you the shirt off his back. He was generous with money, time and unconditional love. He was a people person. He never met a stranger and loved and lived big. He is where I get my love for helping other people. It didn't matter if we knew them or not if he saw a need he would help and he would do it without others knowing. He didn't want the credit.
From the time they were little my children knew of their poppa's disease because I wanted them to know it was hereditary and I wanted them to be aware it could have been passed down. The first time my son drank he was 16. He had asked his cousin to buy him a bottle of alcohol. He wanted to celebrate and act "grown up". I don't blame my nephew. He was young and wanted to be the cool older cousin. Also if he didn't do it someone else would have. But he was 16 and spending the night at Bubba's house. I got a call in the middle of the night from Cathy that something was wrong with Jacob. She said he was fine one minute and the next minute he was drunk. Drunk? Imagine my shock. Imagine my humiliation. Imagine my worry? Bart went to get him and apologize to Cathy for this happening at their house. When he brought him home I met them in the driveway. I was going to give Jacob my two cents' worth. But I knew immediately something more was wrong. Bart told me he downed the whole bottle by himself. I looked at him and could tell we couldn't not just let him sleep this off. His eyes were rolling back in his head, he was limp and his breathing was shallow. We rushed him to the ER. His blood alcohol level was three times the legal limit. He had alcohol poisoning.
I knew then that Jacob had inherited the disease, the genetic flaw. Did it start that night? No, he was born with this cancer, this disease. It had just lain dormant until that first drink. I knew. I knew the road would be hard but I would fight until there was no breath left in his body I would fight.
My father was an alcoholic. No, he didn't get drunk every day but when he drank he couldn't stop at one. He could go weeks or months without drinking but when he did drink there was no stopping until he passed out. Why do I feel the need to say but he was a wonderful man? Because society sees alcoholism as a character flaw. My dad and Jacob were so much alike. My dad would literally give you the shirt off his back. He was generous with money, time and unconditional love. He was a people person. He never met a stranger and loved and lived big. He is where I get my love for helping other people. It didn't matter if we knew them or not if he saw a need he would help and he would do it without others knowing. He didn't want the credit.
From the time they were little my children knew of their poppa's disease because I wanted them to know it was hereditary and I wanted them to be aware it could have been passed down. The first time my son drank he was 16. He had asked his cousin to buy him a bottle of alcohol. He wanted to celebrate and act "grown up". I don't blame my nephew. He was young and wanted to be the cool older cousin. Also if he didn't do it someone else would have. But he was 16 and spending the night at Bubba's house. I got a call in the middle of the night from Cathy that something was wrong with Jacob. She said he was fine one minute and the next minute he was drunk. Drunk? Imagine my shock. Imagine my humiliation. Imagine my worry? Bart went to get him and apologize to Cathy for this happening at their house. When he brought him home I met them in the driveway. I was going to give Jacob my two cents' worth. But I knew immediately something more was wrong. Bart told me he downed the whole bottle by himself. I looked at him and could tell we couldn't not just let him sleep this off. His eyes were rolling back in his head, he was limp and his breathing was shallow. We rushed him to the ER. His blood alcohol level was three times the legal limit. He had alcohol poisoning.
I knew then that Jacob had inherited the disease, the genetic flaw. Did it start that night? No, he was born with this cancer, this disease. It had just lain dormant until that first drink. I knew. I knew the road would be hard but I would fight until there was no breath left in his body I would fight.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Loving and Living Big and outloud
Our son always lived life and loved big and outloud. When Jacob was in elementary schools he asked why he was always the one who got caught and in trouble and I told him because you are so loud. If you would be quieter you would get by with more. But that was who he was. He would wake up in the morning asking where are we going and what are we going to do today. He wanted the most out of each moment. He loved people and couldn't get close enough to them. We have pictures of when he was little hugging the stuffing out of Riley, his cousin, and Riley trying to escape the clutches. He just loved to hug and be right next to you. I could be walking down the hall with an arm load of laundry and he would jump out and give me a big ole bear hug and say mom hug me back. I would tell him to stop I had work to finish. Oh what I would give for one of those big ole bear hugs now. Living life to its fullest was he mantra so to think that he was lifeless was beyond our comprehension.
We all huddled together with Bart's arms wrapped around us. Our pastor had made it there. I am still not sure how these things happened. I guess in my stupor I called our pastor and told the chaplain what funeral home to call. I think I called my sister and she came to the hospital. My mother kept calling but I wouldn't answer her calls. I couldn't I couldn't say those words to her over the phone. My sister came and said she would go home and deliver the news to my mother that the precious grandson who was so tender with her fragile bones was now lifeless. I cried out to Bart we have to call Zach who was living in Nashville. Zach, who whenever I would tell him how worried I was about Jacob would reassure me mom Jacob will be fine. Don't worry. He will be fine. We now had to call him and tell him, while he was alone, that Jacob wouldn't be fine. He was lifeless. Details are fuzzy because that is not a call I wanted to know about. I didn't want to hear the anguish in his voice, the total destruction of his world as he knew it. His big brother who he loved mightily and looked up to was no longer alive. I think Brett was given that challenge to call and tell Zachary. I want to say thank you to whomever did because how do you make that call. We were facing it together but Zachary was alone. He faced a flight home alone. He faced the the next 12 hours before he walked in that door alone. He was a very strong young man.
The Chaplain tells us the funeral home is there and do we want to see him before they take him. Again the floor rushes towards me and my brain won't comprehend the words he is saying. My heart is racing in my temples and the lights are getting gray. Bart holds me and tells me I don't have to go but I do. I have to see with my own eyes my baby. I have to know that it is truly him and this isn't some sort of cruel joke. We walk the halls together huddle a group of 3. The curtains to the room are pulled and they usher us in. There he lays asleep. A perfect body asleep. Why can't they make him breath again? Why can't they just restart his heart? I am not sure I can do this. We walk closer. Each step a hundred miles. Tears flowing down our faces, hands and bodies shaking. I can't do this and why am I having to? This is not right. I get to the bed. Bart reaches out to him. Gently stroking his hair. I begin to fall. I look at his face and know it is true. He is so beautiful so perfect so lifeless. I look down at the covers and notice his neck is purple from where they tried to save him and I fall. I hear a scream that comes from some deep deep place, an animal like scream and I realize it is coming from me. I scream because there are no words to express the depth of my hurt. I scream from the deepest part of my body until I can't breath anymore. I rush out of the room because I can't breath, I can't breath, all I can do is scream. The air rushing out and nothing in. The nurses come running. Ma'm you have to keep it together. Are you ok? Can we do anything?
I watch from the hallway as Bart and Kyler hold on to each other and I stand apart looking in. I can't comfort them. I can't comfort Jacob all I can do is silently scream as I feel my heart tear in half. I have never in my life felt such pain. Pain at the loss and pain of watching Bart and Kyler be so tender with the lifeless of body of my child while I can do nothing but stand in the hall and silently scream and die inside.
Then I see the funeral home people arrive. You must leave. Leave? Where do we go? What do we do? Do we just go home? No one tells you how to do this. How do you leave a hospital when your child has died? You have no answers? Those questions come later.
Our pastor ushers us down the hall. We say we must go home. We all have cars. We get in our cars to drive home away from our son. We leave him there with strangers. Mom can you drive? Yes, but I don't feel right. Bart drives on home. Kyler follows me to my sisters where we leave the car and he drives me home. We are driving down the road and everyone is driving to their busy places and the world is continuing to go on while my world has stopped. Numbness sets in.
Enough for today. But before I quit. My aunt recently died. She was 92. When I arrived at the hospital she was already dead and they were waiting for the funeral home. My aunts all said lets go to the waiting room until they get here. No, I can't leave her body alone. Someone should stay with her so she won't be alone so I stay. I pull out a chair and sit next to her. Stroking her head telling her how much I will miss her. All the sudden I feel such guilt. Here I sit with my aunt as if it were so natural and I couldn't even stay in the same room with my son. What kind of a mother am I? For 45 minutes I sit with my aunt thinking why could I not do that with Jacob. Because it wasn't natural. My aunt was 92 had a good long life and Jacob was 22 a life cut way too short. During the 45 minutes I made peace with that. And finally forgave myself for running out on him that Saturday afternoon. Watching Bart and Kyler be so brave and strong. But I knew that day that sitting with your son after he dies is not natural. And is asking too much from this mother. Yes, I know death is the only way we can get to Heaven and is a part of life. I do grief counseling but when a life is cut this short and so unexpectedly our minds can only accept little pieces at a time. So yes I forgave myself for leaving my son's side. Forgiveness in other areas take a lot longer.
We all huddled together with Bart's arms wrapped around us. Our pastor had made it there. I am still not sure how these things happened. I guess in my stupor I called our pastor and told the chaplain what funeral home to call. I think I called my sister and she came to the hospital. My mother kept calling but I wouldn't answer her calls. I couldn't I couldn't say those words to her over the phone. My sister came and said she would go home and deliver the news to my mother that the precious grandson who was so tender with her fragile bones was now lifeless. I cried out to Bart we have to call Zach who was living in Nashville. Zach, who whenever I would tell him how worried I was about Jacob would reassure me mom Jacob will be fine. Don't worry. He will be fine. We now had to call him and tell him, while he was alone, that Jacob wouldn't be fine. He was lifeless. Details are fuzzy because that is not a call I wanted to know about. I didn't want to hear the anguish in his voice, the total destruction of his world as he knew it. His big brother who he loved mightily and looked up to was no longer alive. I think Brett was given that challenge to call and tell Zachary. I want to say thank you to whomever did because how do you make that call. We were facing it together but Zachary was alone. He faced a flight home alone. He faced the the next 12 hours before he walked in that door alone. He was a very strong young man.
The Chaplain tells us the funeral home is there and do we want to see him before they take him. Again the floor rushes towards me and my brain won't comprehend the words he is saying. My heart is racing in my temples and the lights are getting gray. Bart holds me and tells me I don't have to go but I do. I have to see with my own eyes my baby. I have to know that it is truly him and this isn't some sort of cruel joke. We walk the halls together huddle a group of 3. The curtains to the room are pulled and they usher us in. There he lays asleep. A perfect body asleep. Why can't they make him breath again? Why can't they just restart his heart? I am not sure I can do this. We walk closer. Each step a hundred miles. Tears flowing down our faces, hands and bodies shaking. I can't do this and why am I having to? This is not right. I get to the bed. Bart reaches out to him. Gently stroking his hair. I begin to fall. I look at his face and know it is true. He is so beautiful so perfect so lifeless. I look down at the covers and notice his neck is purple from where they tried to save him and I fall. I hear a scream that comes from some deep deep place, an animal like scream and I realize it is coming from me. I scream because there are no words to express the depth of my hurt. I scream from the deepest part of my body until I can't breath anymore. I rush out of the room because I can't breath, I can't breath, all I can do is scream. The air rushing out and nothing in. The nurses come running. Ma'm you have to keep it together. Are you ok? Can we do anything?
I watch from the hallway as Bart and Kyler hold on to each other and I stand apart looking in. I can't comfort them. I can't comfort Jacob all I can do is silently scream as I feel my heart tear in half. I have never in my life felt such pain. Pain at the loss and pain of watching Bart and Kyler be so tender with the lifeless of body of my child while I can do nothing but stand in the hall and silently scream and die inside.
Then I see the funeral home people arrive. You must leave. Leave? Where do we go? What do we do? Do we just go home? No one tells you how to do this. How do you leave a hospital when your child has died? You have no answers? Those questions come later.
Our pastor ushers us down the hall. We say we must go home. We all have cars. We get in our cars to drive home away from our son. We leave him there with strangers. Mom can you drive? Yes, but I don't feel right. Bart drives on home. Kyler follows me to my sisters where we leave the car and he drives me home. We are driving down the road and everyone is driving to their busy places and the world is continuing to go on while my world has stopped. Numbness sets in.
Enough for today. But before I quit. My aunt recently died. She was 92. When I arrived at the hospital she was already dead and they were waiting for the funeral home. My aunts all said lets go to the waiting room until they get here. No, I can't leave her body alone. Someone should stay with her so she won't be alone so I stay. I pull out a chair and sit next to her. Stroking her head telling her how much I will miss her. All the sudden I feel such guilt. Here I sit with my aunt as if it were so natural and I couldn't even stay in the same room with my son. What kind of a mother am I? For 45 minutes I sit with my aunt thinking why could I not do that with Jacob. Because it wasn't natural. My aunt was 92 had a good long life and Jacob was 22 a life cut way too short. During the 45 minutes I made peace with that. And finally forgave myself for running out on him that Saturday afternoon. Watching Bart and Kyler be so brave and strong. But I knew that day that sitting with your son after he dies is not natural. And is asking too much from this mother. Yes, I know death is the only way we can get to Heaven and is a part of life. I do grief counseling but when a life is cut this short and so unexpectedly our minds can only accept little pieces at a time. So yes I forgave myself for leaving my son's side. Forgiveness in other areas take a lot longer.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Day you were born
I remember the day you were born as if it were yesterday. It was 7:30 in the morning on a Sat and Bart was going in to work that day. He said goodbye and I sneezed. I felt a a small gush of water and thought oh my goodness that was a powerful sneeze. I sent Bart off to work because I knew that couldn't have been my waters breaking because you weren't due for 5 more weeks. I got up, did my hair and put on makeup. By then the pains were coming . My mom was in Weatherford at an art show and I didn't want to bother Bart because this had to be a false alarm. You weren't due for 5 more weeks. So I called my Aunt Peggy to take me to the hospital just to prove to myself this wasn't real.
It was real. 24 hours later on a Sunday morning your 6.4 precious little body came to breathe its first breath of air. And now they were trying to tell me you were no longer breathing.
I sat in this little bitty room with a very tall chaplain who kept patting me. Tara and Tyler sat in the floor crying saying over and over they were sorry. I slid down the wall and thought what do I do. I asked to see the doctor and demanded he tell me what happened and why didn't they save him and it must all be a mistake because you are my precious son and this can't be happening and why am I in this little bitty room with this people all alone.
Suddenly it hit me Kyler and Bart were on their way. I had to stop them. I had to tell them. I couldn't let them come in this room and feel the pain. My head is reeling and the doctor comes in. He tells me they couldn't save him. He was gone before they got him here and he was sorry. Sorry. Sorry he couldn't pump air back into my son's lungs and start his heart again so I could hold him in my arms one more time and tell him loved him.
I whirl towards Tara and ask her what? what happened? She keeps apologizing and I tell her to stop and tell me what happened. She tells me she came home from work and Jacob had been drinking. She couldn't stay up all night and watch him. I am sorry Shelli I am so sorry. He came to bed around 6 am and took something. A few hours later she heard him snoring loudly, the death rattle, she asked him if he wanted a drink of water but he didn't wake up so she went back to sleep. When my call came it woke her up and she went to the bathroom. When she came back she realized something was wrong and yelled for Tyler.
She said they immediately started CPR. Then dressed him and put him in the car. They drove his lifeless body to the hospital. I stare, a thousand thoughts going through my mind. Why didn't I make him come home last night? Why didn't they call an ambulance? Why did he take a pill while drinking? Why? WHY? WHY was my son lying lifeless in the other room.
Kyler burst through the door asking where is he is he ok? My heart broke a second time as I held my precious boy and explained his brother was dead. I watched as his body convulsed with tears and heart break. I watched as the chaplain stood helplessly by and Tara kept repeating she was sorry. I told her to stop. It wasn't her fault and I needed her to leave. I just couldn't handle it right then. I asked for his phone. Within the 30 minutes of calling Kyler on it and my asking for it somehow it got lost. I wanted that phone. I needed it. It was my last link with my son and no one could find it.
Tara and Tyler left. The chaplain ask if I want to see him before the funeral home is called. Funeral home? Funeral home? Who calls a funeral home for their 22 year old son. Who makes these decisions?
Where was Bart? No, I don't. I want to wait for my husband. I want to hold Kyler. I want to die myself.
What do you do while you wait for your husband to arrive to tell him his child is dead? You sit in the floor, cry out to God, hold your baby, and you text. Text? Really, yes. I can't just sit here. No one tells you what you need to do. I had called my boss, Tara Peters, by mistake on my way to the hospital trying to reach Tara L. She tells me to call and let her know how Jacob is. I text her. He is dead. My body begins to tingle and my head feels floaty. This is a dream. I can't feel my fingers and things are starting to go gray. Bart runs in the room. Reality comes back.
The chaplain explains what has happened and I just sit in the floor and rock. Bart can't wrap his brain around this either. Tell me again what happened. How? Why? What do we do? He grabs myself and Kyler and wraps us in his arms as if to keep the world out and pain from getting to us but it is too late. Our lives are forever changed.
It was real. 24 hours later on a Sunday morning your 6.4 precious little body came to breathe its first breath of air. And now they were trying to tell me you were no longer breathing.
I sat in this little bitty room with a very tall chaplain who kept patting me. Tara and Tyler sat in the floor crying saying over and over they were sorry. I slid down the wall and thought what do I do. I asked to see the doctor and demanded he tell me what happened and why didn't they save him and it must all be a mistake because you are my precious son and this can't be happening and why am I in this little bitty room with this people all alone.
Suddenly it hit me Kyler and Bart were on their way. I had to stop them. I had to tell them. I couldn't let them come in this room and feel the pain. My head is reeling and the doctor comes in. He tells me they couldn't save him. He was gone before they got him here and he was sorry. Sorry. Sorry he couldn't pump air back into my son's lungs and start his heart again so I could hold him in my arms one more time and tell him loved him.
I whirl towards Tara and ask her what? what happened? She keeps apologizing and I tell her to stop and tell me what happened. She tells me she came home from work and Jacob had been drinking. She couldn't stay up all night and watch him. I am sorry Shelli I am so sorry. He came to bed around 6 am and took something. A few hours later she heard him snoring loudly, the death rattle, she asked him if he wanted a drink of water but he didn't wake up so she went back to sleep. When my call came it woke her up and she went to the bathroom. When she came back she realized something was wrong and yelled for Tyler.
She said they immediately started CPR. Then dressed him and put him in the car. They drove his lifeless body to the hospital. I stare, a thousand thoughts going through my mind. Why didn't I make him come home last night? Why didn't they call an ambulance? Why did he take a pill while drinking? Why? WHY? WHY was my son lying lifeless in the other room.
Kyler burst through the door asking where is he is he ok? My heart broke a second time as I held my precious boy and explained his brother was dead. I watched as his body convulsed with tears and heart break. I watched as the chaplain stood helplessly by and Tara kept repeating she was sorry. I told her to stop. It wasn't her fault and I needed her to leave. I just couldn't handle it right then. I asked for his phone. Within the 30 minutes of calling Kyler on it and my asking for it somehow it got lost. I wanted that phone. I needed it. It was my last link with my son and no one could find it.
Tara and Tyler left. The chaplain ask if I want to see him before the funeral home is called. Funeral home? Funeral home? Who calls a funeral home for their 22 year old son. Who makes these decisions?
Where was Bart? No, I don't. I want to wait for my husband. I want to hold Kyler. I want to die myself.
What do you do while you wait for your husband to arrive to tell him his child is dead? You sit in the floor, cry out to God, hold your baby, and you text. Text? Really, yes. I can't just sit here. No one tells you what you need to do. I had called my boss, Tara Peters, by mistake on my way to the hospital trying to reach Tara L. She tells me to call and let her know how Jacob is. I text her. He is dead. My body begins to tingle and my head feels floaty. This is a dream. I can't feel my fingers and things are starting to go gray. Bart runs in the room. Reality comes back.
The chaplain explains what has happened and I just sit in the floor and rock. Bart can't wrap his brain around this either. Tell me again what happened. How? Why? What do we do? He grabs myself and Kyler and wraps us in his arms as if to keep the world out and pain from getting to us but it is too late. Our lives are forever changed.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Reflection
Looking back I wish now I had started journaling day one. But somehow putting words to my feelings was too painful, too harsh, too numbing. It was as if I didn't say the words then it wouldn't be true. But it was true. My son was dead.
There I said it. Still takes my breath away. But today I can say it and even though I don't want it to be true it is. So I thought writing it down might help me understand how one moment your life is perfect and the next your life is broken. This will not be a journal of sadness but of hope and victory. One day we will be together again but until then my heart still breaks every moment of every day. You won't know because I try to hold it together but there is not a moment that I am not aware that my son is dead. It is the first thought when I wake up and the last thought before I go to sleep.
So lets go back to Day one. On my way to OKC to take care of my mother. I pick up my phone to call Jacob and ask him if he will take my mom to church on Sunday so I can go to my church's Sunday breakfast. I am at a red light at 39th and McArthur and pick up my phone. It is 9am. I put the phone back down. No, I don't want to wake him up so I will just call him later. I continue on to my moms.
My father died 6 months ago so every Saturday since August I go to my mom's and try to get her out of the house and do the things she can't do for herself. I change her sheets, vaccum, laundry, and fix her meds. Some Saturdays I want to just stay at my house and do nothing. But I can't. My mother needs me.
Around 1 I have messed up her cable. I have spent an hour on the phone with Cox trying to get it fixed. I decide to call Jacob and see if he knows what to do with her DVR player to get it to work. I call and let it ring. Goes to voice mail. Probably asleep I will try later. 30 minutes later I get a frantic call from Kyler, "Mom, something is wrong. Jacob is at the ER. Tara said something is bad. I am on my way." I hang up, grab my keys and tell my mom I have to go Jacob is in the ER. My car races to the hosptial. I pray the entire way. I pull up to the ER door and throw my car in park. I leave it running and the door open. I run into the ER screaming where is my son. The lady hits the button and I run through the door. Then time stops. I see the chaplain walking towards me with his arms out to stop me. I begin screaming in slow motion, "No no no no" He grabs me by the arms and tells me to come into this little room. NO, I don't want to. I want to see my son. Where is he? The chaplain forcefully guides me into the little room where I see Tara and a friend.
She tries to hug me telling me she is so sorry. No, I don't want to hear that I want to see my son. The chaplain explains they are sorry but they couldn't save him. He died from an accidental overdose. My brain shuts down.
There I said it. Still takes my breath away. But today I can say it and even though I don't want it to be true it is. So I thought writing it down might help me understand how one moment your life is perfect and the next your life is broken. This will not be a journal of sadness but of hope and victory. One day we will be together again but until then my heart still breaks every moment of every day. You won't know because I try to hold it together but there is not a moment that I am not aware that my son is dead. It is the first thought when I wake up and the last thought before I go to sleep.
So lets go back to Day one. On my way to OKC to take care of my mother. I pick up my phone to call Jacob and ask him if he will take my mom to church on Sunday so I can go to my church's Sunday breakfast. I am at a red light at 39th and McArthur and pick up my phone. It is 9am. I put the phone back down. No, I don't want to wake him up so I will just call him later. I continue on to my moms.
My father died 6 months ago so every Saturday since August I go to my mom's and try to get her out of the house and do the things she can't do for herself. I change her sheets, vaccum, laundry, and fix her meds. Some Saturdays I want to just stay at my house and do nothing. But I can't. My mother needs me.
Around 1 I have messed up her cable. I have spent an hour on the phone with Cox trying to get it fixed. I decide to call Jacob and see if he knows what to do with her DVR player to get it to work. I call and let it ring. Goes to voice mail. Probably asleep I will try later. 30 minutes later I get a frantic call from Kyler, "Mom, something is wrong. Jacob is at the ER. Tara said something is bad. I am on my way." I hang up, grab my keys and tell my mom I have to go Jacob is in the ER. My car races to the hosptial. I pray the entire way. I pull up to the ER door and throw my car in park. I leave it running and the door open. I run into the ER screaming where is my son. The lady hits the button and I run through the door. Then time stops. I see the chaplain walking towards me with his arms out to stop me. I begin screaming in slow motion, "No no no no" He grabs me by the arms and tells me to come into this little room. NO, I don't want to. I want to see my son. Where is he? The chaplain forcefully guides me into the little room where I see Tara and a friend.
She tries to hug me telling me she is so sorry. No, I don't want to hear that I want to see my son. The chaplain explains they are sorry but they couldn't save him. He died from an accidental overdose. My brain shuts down.
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