I went to a funeral today. I didn't know the lady but she was the sister of my Aunt June so I went because of her. When you don't personally know the person you can really take in what they are saying. I know this because I have been to a funeral where I knew no one, but that is another story. But at today's funeral I didn't know the person being buried, Gladys. She would have been 90 years young this Fall. She was very sickly towards the end and Hospice had helped the family with the process of dying. And it is a process. Some people approach with fear, some with anxiety, some with welcome relief. Gladys I think from what I heard today approached it with some sadness because she would no longer be with her family. But I know she also approached it with open arms because she would be with her Lord.
But as I sat there and listened to the family and pastor speak about this wonderful woman I thought wow, I wish I had know her. She sounded like a really amazing person. She had traveled far and wide, she had raised her family then began a career, she was an avid reader and she loved her family deeply. She was my kind of person.
The family spoke of her smile. That no matter how she felt she said with a smile on her face she was fine. Throughout even the last days when she was in pain, couldn't walk, couldn't hear much and couldn't see much she still had such a positive attitude.
They told of how she never had a bad word to say about anyone. Anyone. Wow. She welcomed everyone as family even if they weren't. Part of her family lived overseas and when they would come home for 6 weeks she would let them take over her house, her car even her bed. She was flexible beyond words. She just enjoyed the fact they were there.
When she went overseas to visit it wasn't about show me a good time. She wanted to just enjoy being with them and living their everyday life.
She was never too busy to read to a child, or talk to a friend.
I began to wonder what would my kids have to say at my funeral. Would they say I had a positive attitude or negative one? Would they say they had never heard me speak a bad word about anyone? Would they say I enjoyed people just being there or was I more concerned about my house? Would they say I sat down and read a book or watched a movie with them or was I too busy cooking or cleaning? Would they say I was flexible or was I rigid? At this point I am glad it isn't my funeral because I am afraid the answer to most of those questions would not be yes. Instead, it would be I was a busy body who was negative and sometimes an angry person. That I cared more that my house was clean than about the people in it. I am afraid they would say I was often too busy for them. I can not change the past but I can change the future.
I want my words to be soft and positive. I have always wanted to be demure but I know that will never happen. I want to be flexible and enjoy the moment no matter how messy it may be. I want to sit and look them in the eyes and listen, really listen, to what they think and feel. I want to hug them often and kiss them right on the lips no matter how embarrassed they get. I want to be remembered as a Godly woman who loved her family and friends unconditionally.
I don't think it is morbid to think of these things. I think we all need a reality check every now and then. We get this one life to accomplish it all here on Earth. And our actions will speak volumes about who we truly were. I hope today, Gladys, you know you are helping to make me a better person. When I think about ironing instead of listening I will think of you.
When I think of speaking about someone I will remember your childrens' words. When I want to complain about how I feel I will put a smile on. So, thank you Gladys Petty for a life well lived and a legacy passed on. Sometimes it helps to go to a funeral and just remember how precious life is.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Birthdays
Today is the birthday of a dear friend's son. He died 4 months before my Jacob. I say my Jacob because his name is Jacob, Jake, too. I didn't know her except by name before my Jacob died. I remember the day she walked into my house. It was the day after Jacob died. When I saw her I thought I can do this. If Sandy was able to leave her home and come over to comfort me when this is bringing up so many feelings then I will be ok. Because at this point in my grieving, the day after, I wasn't sure I would ever leave my home again. Wasn't sure I would ever be able to do more than sit on my couch paralyzed by the pain and breathe. But here was this woman whose son had died 4 months ago and she was able to function. Little did I know how difficult for her it was to walk into my home. It brought up so many feelings that she had tried to put someplace deep inside her. It brought up her own day after grief. Something she had tried to get past. But she did it because she knew first hand a momma's grief. The grief of a momma is like no other. I know I will offend others because they will try to say how hard it is for the father and siblings and friends but a momma is different. She carried that child inside her for 9 months. She knows that child inside and out. He is with her every moment of every day. Not physically but emotionally. A father goes to work and does his job. A mother goes to work and thinks constantly about her children. Not thinks but worries and dreams of their future. She is emotionally and soulfully connected to this child.
I have told all of my children as they turn into young adults how hard a transition it is from being a mother whom is depended on for everything to a mother who is appreciated and loved but not really needed that much. As they entered high school and college I would stress to them that for the past upteen years they depended on me for basically everything. For much of that time I was their world. They were going to marry me when they grew up. Momma could do no wrong and everything she said was right. Then somewhere along the way they did grow up. No longer did I know everything. In fact, the older they became the dumber I grew. They could do things for themselves and no longer needed me as much. So at these times I would gently and sometimes not so gently tell them to throw me a bone every now and then to wean me off being number one in their lives. Every now and then tell me something about their thoughts, ask my opinion, ask for my help. Not every day but just every now and then make me feel needed. It is hard letting go and they need to let me go gently.
That would make our whole world easier and happier if every now and then they would throw me a bone.
So when that child dies a part of a momma dies too. I know the father and siblings and friends feel a part of them dies too. But soon their lives return and they are able to go longer and longer time between thoughts of that loved one. But for a momma I can tell you 17 months later I think of him 24/7. He is never away from my thoughts. Yes, I have happy times but he is there with me. The sadness of him missing out is there behind every smile every laugh.
So as I thought of my friend this morning and how we both are focusing on where they are not on where they were my heart breaks for her. I pray for her always as I know the pain is there with her every step she takes. I thank her for her bravery in coming to my house that day 17 months ago and giving me hope that I too could someday live again. God gave her to me. On the days she is down I am up and when I am up she is down.
I had the opportunity just 3 months after Jacob died to share that same gift with another family. A long time family friend's son died the same way Jacob did. I told Bart we had to go visit them. But I didn't want to. I was just then able to go several hours without tears. I didn't want to reopen my own wounds to help someone else. But I knew we had to. I knew the help and comfort of seeing Sandy that day. The strength she had given to me. So we went and loved on them and prayed for them. Yes, it was so hard and set me back. But mommas know how other mommas feel. They can see and feel the pain in their eyes like no other. So we have to give back to them. We have to go even if it hurts and look into their eyes and give them hope that yes, you will go on living. Yes, it will hurt every moment of every day for the rest of your life. No, your life will never be the same but you will find a new different life. One that is somewhat tolerable. But you have to lean on God and others. It is a walk that must be done alone for only you know your feelings but through leaning on God and others and letting them hold you up in prayer and give you strength someday you will breathe and live again.
So, to all the mommas whose children have died before my Jacob I say thank you for your strength in going on so that I can hope. And to all the mommas whose children have died after my Jacob I say keep breathing, take one step at a time and lean on God and friends. And focus today on where they are right now rather than where they were.
Thank you Sandy Meir for giving me strength to go on and for being there in the middle of the night when no one else could possibly understand my crazy thoughts. I am thankful for our facebook messages.
Happy Birthday Jake Meir.
I have told all of my children as they turn into young adults how hard a transition it is from being a mother whom is depended on for everything to a mother who is appreciated and loved but not really needed that much. As they entered high school and college I would stress to them that for the past upteen years they depended on me for basically everything. For much of that time I was their world. They were going to marry me when they grew up. Momma could do no wrong and everything she said was right. Then somewhere along the way they did grow up. No longer did I know everything. In fact, the older they became the dumber I grew. They could do things for themselves and no longer needed me as much. So at these times I would gently and sometimes not so gently tell them to throw me a bone every now and then to wean me off being number one in their lives. Every now and then tell me something about their thoughts, ask my opinion, ask for my help. Not every day but just every now and then make me feel needed. It is hard letting go and they need to let me go gently.
That would make our whole world easier and happier if every now and then they would throw me a bone.
So when that child dies a part of a momma dies too. I know the father and siblings and friends feel a part of them dies too. But soon their lives return and they are able to go longer and longer time between thoughts of that loved one. But for a momma I can tell you 17 months later I think of him 24/7. He is never away from my thoughts. Yes, I have happy times but he is there with me. The sadness of him missing out is there behind every smile every laugh.
So as I thought of my friend this morning and how we both are focusing on where they are not on where they were my heart breaks for her. I pray for her always as I know the pain is there with her every step she takes. I thank her for her bravery in coming to my house that day 17 months ago and giving me hope that I too could someday live again. God gave her to me. On the days she is down I am up and when I am up she is down.
I had the opportunity just 3 months after Jacob died to share that same gift with another family. A long time family friend's son died the same way Jacob did. I told Bart we had to go visit them. But I didn't want to. I was just then able to go several hours without tears. I didn't want to reopen my own wounds to help someone else. But I knew we had to. I knew the help and comfort of seeing Sandy that day. The strength she had given to me. So we went and loved on them and prayed for them. Yes, it was so hard and set me back. But mommas know how other mommas feel. They can see and feel the pain in their eyes like no other. So we have to give back to them. We have to go even if it hurts and look into their eyes and give them hope that yes, you will go on living. Yes, it will hurt every moment of every day for the rest of your life. No, your life will never be the same but you will find a new different life. One that is somewhat tolerable. But you have to lean on God and others. It is a walk that must be done alone for only you know your feelings but through leaning on God and others and letting them hold you up in prayer and give you strength someday you will breathe and live again.
So, to all the mommas whose children have died before my Jacob I say thank you for your strength in going on so that I can hope. And to all the mommas whose children have died after my Jacob I say keep breathing, take one step at a time and lean on God and friends. And focus today on where they are right now rather than where they were.
Thank you Sandy Meir for giving me strength to go on and for being there in the middle of the night when no one else could possibly understand my crazy thoughts. I am thankful for our facebook messages.
Happy Birthday Jake Meir.
Monday, July 18, 2011
This morning I woke up thinking about Christmas. I loved Christmas time before Jacob died. I loved the reason for the season, the lights, the food, and the family time. If you don't already know I am a little OÇD ok maybe a little more than a little. For years we had Christmas Eve at my church with our closet 50-60 family members. We had a huge dinner, played Dirty Santa and the little ones would reenact the Christmas Story. It was amazing to be surrounded by family from the oldest to the youngest. Then Christmas day a smaller gathering 30-40 would gather at my aunts for Christmas lunch. I was fortunate to be able to both. I always knew the time would come when my aunts and mother got too old to put on such a huge party but dreaded it. We downsized the food, the younger generation took over but the inevitable happened. We had to put an end to the Christmas Eve party. For someone who was raised with holiday rituals and OCD this was the worst. How could we have Christmas without the Miner Family gathering? I went down kicking and vocal. But Christmas did survive and other traditions were made. We gathered Christmas Eve with my immediate family, not a small gathering either and just met on Christmas Day.
Other families I know celebrate Christmas but not on the actual day because of family commitments but that was not an option for me. Christmas Eve was December 24 and Christmas Day was Dec 25. They had to be celebrated on the exact days. So imagine my horror Christmas two years ago when we were blinded by a blizzard. It was noon and I was having my nails done. Yes, in a blizzard. But I have lived in OK for way too many years to know that as quickly as the weather starts it ends. It had never really snowed that much on Christmas. So I went to have my nails done in preparation for the nights celebration. The tvs were on blaring about the blizzards and roads closed. They were warning people to not get out unless necessary. We all laughed at the nail shop. What is a little snow in OK.
Finally, my nails were done. I wished them all a safe and merry Christmas. I struggled to open the door against the raging wind. Finally, I lowered my head and pushed with all my might and finally made it to my car. Now, I am a seasoned driver so driving on snow or ice does not faze me. I am that person who has to get out of the house no matter what the weather does. One year I shoveled a foot of snow off my drive so I could get out and get guacamole from Taco Bueno. But this was different. I couldn't see. It was a white out. It was already 1pm on Christmas Eve. I had to get home so we could go to my moms. I called my mom before I left and she said we were cancelling Christmas Eve because of the weather. I told her no that was ridiculous. It would end soon and we could get there. She was not spending Christmas Eve alone. I was not spending Christmas Eve without all my family together. When she told me we could still celebrate we would just do it another day. I came unglued. You can't do that mom. We HAVE to celebrate tonight. It was CHRISTMAS EVE. She told me to get home and we would discuss it later.
I began to drive. I couldn't see anything beyond the front of my car. I could see lights on other cars if I really strained. I was beginning to get scared. I made it through the lights at Mustang Road and Reno. I was coming up to the overpass on I-40. I panicked. How would I know where the road was or the barriers on the ramp? I called Bart crying I was so scared. He urged me on slowly. By the time I made it home I was shaking. I thought I was going to get stuck because of the snow piled up and then not be able to see how to walk home. If I even could? Once home the boys and I began praying for Bart to make it. Lord, if you will just let him get home safely we won't get back out. Wait, what was I saying? It was Christmas Eve. How could we leave my mom home alone? How could we celebrate just us? My world was getting shakey. I called my mom who said even if Bart could get there she was not leaving her house. She told me firmly it was just another night. Christ's birth was not that exact day. It was a day we had set aside to celebrate and the celebration could take place anytime.
I got off the phone and sat stunned. For the first time in my long life we were not going to have Christmas. Silence.
Bart made it home. He assured me the world would not end if we didn't celebrate Christmas Eve today. That we should just be thankful all of our loved ones were safe and we, Bart, myself and the three boys were together. We could have Christmas Eve just us.
Again, I sat stunned. I ambled to the refrigerator. We had pies. That was what I was suppose to bring. Hmmmmm I fixed some unrememberable meal and sat at the table and pouted. We watched Christmas movies and I pouted. We opened one gift and I pouted. We went to bed and I pouted. We got up the next morning and Santa had come and I pouted. Christmas had been ruined.
We did celebrate Christmas two days later and the world did not end. But I still pouted.
Looking back now I think God was preparing me for the next Christmas without Jacob. After Jacob died we celebrated holidays but in a fog. This 4th of July my sister in law reminded me how I banned sparklers last year because the idea of having sparklers without Jacob was too much. How selfish I was to my grandkids. I don't even remember doing it.
Thanksgiving, I made everyone sit some place different. I took a xanex to keep me from screaming at everyone for smiling for going on with living without my Jacob. But Christmas? I just couldn't do it. The idea of setting out only two stockings and Santa gifts was too much. The idea of waking up Christmas morning in our home in Yukon being a family of 4 instead of a family of 5 was paralyzing. I know Christ tells us he will never leave us nor forsake us but I also knew I couldn't wake up in my own bed Christmas morning without Jacob. Knowing his body lay in a cold deep grave but his soul was worshipping the one and only true God that Christmas morning was not comforting. So I began to plan. I lay the idea of a family cruise out there to the boys and Bart's family. We could all be together but it would be different. Yes, we would notice Jacob, the son, brother, grandchild, cousin, nephew was not there but the scene would be so different I could do this. I really didn't take into consideration how the others felt about leaving home for Christmas. I knew I had to leave and I was taking them with me at whatever cost.
I know now God gave me the previous Christmas as a gift. He let me see without all the grief and pain that Christmas was just a day. The celebration could take place anytime anywhere. Because of that I saw the world didn't end just because we had our celebration two days late. He also gave me another gift that I did not embrace. He gave me Jacob's last Christmas as a special blessing, just the five of us. A chance to spend special quality of time just us. But in my stubborness of knowing more than God I missed it. I pouted. Instead of embracing that we were all together and safe I pouted. I missed one of God's greatest gift to me, my son's last Christmas. I so wish I could have that night back together.
I cried in bed this morning knowing I missed it. I missed so many other times that God had provided for me I am sure because I was too busy or was trying to do it my way. I see now God does have a plan and I should embrace it. When well made plans fall apart we should just look and see what is right before our face. Jacob had so wanted to be out on his own by this time but finances and college and working part time kept him from doing it. God gave us that time since it would be cut short. Most people's children go off to college and they don't get to have evening dinners with them, or late night movies, or snow days together. We did. I am thankful.
Yes, we did go on a cruise and I did survive Christmas. We drove all of Christmas Day to Galveston. Bart, the boys, Grandma Billye, Aunt Sharon, Aunt Brenda, Uncle Brett and cousins Riley and Parker. Yes, it was still noticeable my precious baby boy, Jacob was not there. But I didn't wake up in my bed in Yukon. That helped. As we walked onto the ship I cried. Jacob had always wanted to go on a cruise and we were leaving him behind. But he was having the best Christmas of them all, with Christ himself.
This Christmas we are looking at Tampa. Our Katie lives there and it isn't Yukon. Bart's family has to stay here this year and my mom says she can't leave. So it will be waking up Christmas morning a family of four. But it won't be Yukon. Maybe some day we will stay home. My boys hope so. They miss being with their friends and rest of the family. Come to find out they hated the cruise. They don't like water that much. They did it for me and they will do it again this year. Because we are family. I am thankful.
Other families I know celebrate Christmas but not on the actual day because of family commitments but that was not an option for me. Christmas Eve was December 24 and Christmas Day was Dec 25. They had to be celebrated on the exact days. So imagine my horror Christmas two years ago when we were blinded by a blizzard. It was noon and I was having my nails done. Yes, in a blizzard. But I have lived in OK for way too many years to know that as quickly as the weather starts it ends. It had never really snowed that much on Christmas. So I went to have my nails done in preparation for the nights celebration. The tvs were on blaring about the blizzards and roads closed. They were warning people to not get out unless necessary. We all laughed at the nail shop. What is a little snow in OK.
Finally, my nails were done. I wished them all a safe and merry Christmas. I struggled to open the door against the raging wind. Finally, I lowered my head and pushed with all my might and finally made it to my car. Now, I am a seasoned driver so driving on snow or ice does not faze me. I am that person who has to get out of the house no matter what the weather does. One year I shoveled a foot of snow off my drive so I could get out and get guacamole from Taco Bueno. But this was different. I couldn't see. It was a white out. It was already 1pm on Christmas Eve. I had to get home so we could go to my moms. I called my mom before I left and she said we were cancelling Christmas Eve because of the weather. I told her no that was ridiculous. It would end soon and we could get there. She was not spending Christmas Eve alone. I was not spending Christmas Eve without all my family together. When she told me we could still celebrate we would just do it another day. I came unglued. You can't do that mom. We HAVE to celebrate tonight. It was CHRISTMAS EVE. She told me to get home and we would discuss it later.
I began to drive. I couldn't see anything beyond the front of my car. I could see lights on other cars if I really strained. I was beginning to get scared. I made it through the lights at Mustang Road and Reno. I was coming up to the overpass on I-40. I panicked. How would I know where the road was or the barriers on the ramp? I called Bart crying I was so scared. He urged me on slowly. By the time I made it home I was shaking. I thought I was going to get stuck because of the snow piled up and then not be able to see how to walk home. If I even could? Once home the boys and I began praying for Bart to make it. Lord, if you will just let him get home safely we won't get back out. Wait, what was I saying? It was Christmas Eve. How could we leave my mom home alone? How could we celebrate just us? My world was getting shakey. I called my mom who said even if Bart could get there she was not leaving her house. She told me firmly it was just another night. Christ's birth was not that exact day. It was a day we had set aside to celebrate and the celebration could take place anytime.
I got off the phone and sat stunned. For the first time in my long life we were not going to have Christmas. Silence.
Bart made it home. He assured me the world would not end if we didn't celebrate Christmas Eve today. That we should just be thankful all of our loved ones were safe and we, Bart, myself and the three boys were together. We could have Christmas Eve just us.
Again, I sat stunned. I ambled to the refrigerator. We had pies. That was what I was suppose to bring. Hmmmmm I fixed some unrememberable meal and sat at the table and pouted. We watched Christmas movies and I pouted. We opened one gift and I pouted. We went to bed and I pouted. We got up the next morning and Santa had come and I pouted. Christmas had been ruined.
We did celebrate Christmas two days later and the world did not end. But I still pouted.
Looking back now I think God was preparing me for the next Christmas without Jacob. After Jacob died we celebrated holidays but in a fog. This 4th of July my sister in law reminded me how I banned sparklers last year because the idea of having sparklers without Jacob was too much. How selfish I was to my grandkids. I don't even remember doing it.
Thanksgiving, I made everyone sit some place different. I took a xanex to keep me from screaming at everyone for smiling for going on with living without my Jacob. But Christmas? I just couldn't do it. The idea of setting out only two stockings and Santa gifts was too much. The idea of waking up Christmas morning in our home in Yukon being a family of 4 instead of a family of 5 was paralyzing. I know Christ tells us he will never leave us nor forsake us but I also knew I couldn't wake up in my own bed Christmas morning without Jacob. Knowing his body lay in a cold deep grave but his soul was worshipping the one and only true God that Christmas morning was not comforting. So I began to plan. I lay the idea of a family cruise out there to the boys and Bart's family. We could all be together but it would be different. Yes, we would notice Jacob, the son, brother, grandchild, cousin, nephew was not there but the scene would be so different I could do this. I really didn't take into consideration how the others felt about leaving home for Christmas. I knew I had to leave and I was taking them with me at whatever cost.
I know now God gave me the previous Christmas as a gift. He let me see without all the grief and pain that Christmas was just a day. The celebration could take place anytime anywhere. Because of that I saw the world didn't end just because we had our celebration two days late. He also gave me another gift that I did not embrace. He gave me Jacob's last Christmas as a special blessing, just the five of us. A chance to spend special quality of time just us. But in my stubborness of knowing more than God I missed it. I pouted. Instead of embracing that we were all together and safe I pouted. I missed one of God's greatest gift to me, my son's last Christmas. I so wish I could have that night back together.
I cried in bed this morning knowing I missed it. I missed so many other times that God had provided for me I am sure because I was too busy or was trying to do it my way. I see now God does have a plan and I should embrace it. When well made plans fall apart we should just look and see what is right before our face. Jacob had so wanted to be out on his own by this time but finances and college and working part time kept him from doing it. God gave us that time since it would be cut short. Most people's children go off to college and they don't get to have evening dinners with them, or late night movies, or snow days together. We did. I am thankful.
Yes, we did go on a cruise and I did survive Christmas. We drove all of Christmas Day to Galveston. Bart, the boys, Grandma Billye, Aunt Sharon, Aunt Brenda, Uncle Brett and cousins Riley and Parker. Yes, it was still noticeable my precious baby boy, Jacob was not there. But I didn't wake up in my bed in Yukon. That helped. As we walked onto the ship I cried. Jacob had always wanted to go on a cruise and we were leaving him behind. But he was having the best Christmas of them all, with Christ himself.
This Christmas we are looking at Tampa. Our Katie lives there and it isn't Yukon. Bart's family has to stay here this year and my mom says she can't leave. So it will be waking up Christmas morning a family of four. But it won't be Yukon. Maybe some day we will stay home. My boys hope so. They miss being with their friends and rest of the family. Come to find out they hated the cruise. They don't like water that much. They did it for me and they will do it again this year. Because we are family. I am thankful.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Not die from life but to die from the pain.
That night I did want to die. Not to die from life but from the pain. I wanted to no longer be able to feel. To this day I can still see that image of my first born child lying in that coffin. I must keep my mind busy at all times so I don't see that image. I can be having a conversation with you or cooking dinner or worshipping God and if I am not careful that image comes to mind and world crashes. But those times are now fewer and farther between. This year I choose to focus on not where he was but where he is. I try to focus on the beauty and wonder of God all around him.
But those first few days it was not possible. Those first few days become a blur. So many people came and went and I am so thankful for their presence. Every morning I would get up, put on my makeup and stumble to my couch. My haven. The Olympics were on and curling became our fascination. I would sit again with my eyes closed listening to the announcer while repeating everything in my head so I didn't have to think. I became fixated on the tv. It brought normalcy to my life. Any time the boys or Bart would get out of my sight I would panic. Several of my friends could see the panic and would rush to my side to tell me where they were. They were going on about the business of picking pictures, getting clothes ready for the funeral, living life. I was not ready to move from the couch. I would fall asleep on the couch because I could hear life around me. Teenage voices in the night moving around the house, watching tv, eating, laughing. That is the normal I wanted around me. To go to bed in the dark with no noise brought too many thoughts. Thoughts I did not want. So I stayed sitting on the couch. Falling asleep with the world going on around me.
The morning of the funeral I lay in bed. I could feel Bart beside me. I was trying to cry silently so as not to wake him but he spoke. He too was lying there silently crying so as not to wake me. He said we have to get up and get ready for the funeral. Get ready for the funeral. So natural to say. How many funerals have we gone to? Gotten up and gotten ready as if it were such a normal day. But while we were getting ready for those funerals did we think there was a momma and daddy lying there in the bed silently crying so as not to wake the other one. We got o these funerals and we are sad for a moment and then go back to work. But for the family life does not go on as normal. Normal will never be the same. Someday I will find a new normal but it will never be the same.
We dress in silence, eat in silence, hug in silence. The house begins to fill with family and friends who have come in support and to comfort us as we go to the cemetery. These people are my rock. These people I know are praying for each one of us. I sit in the chair surrounded by these people and Bart tells me the cars are here and it is time to go. I tell him to wait. Up to this point I could do little. I was not able to even comfort my children. At this point I have had faith but the pain overtook it. I was not hopeless just helpless. There is a big difference. I knew that pain was mind numbing but I also knew through this all that God was still on His throne and still next to my side. With 40 people gathered in my living room I needed I had to give that hope on to them. I needed to let them know this was not the end. Our God is so much bigger than that. For the non believer this was the end of the road. But because I and Jacob knew our God died and rose again this was not the end. It was just the beginning for him. I would survive and my family would grow stronger because of it. God had a plan. I didn't like the plan but He had one.
So I asked Bart to wait. I had something I wanted to share with everyone. With eyes on me I opened my Bible to Psalms 22
Normally people read 23 Psalms. But God gave that chapter to me that morning and I just felt strength from it. I felt God had abandoned me but I knew and still know He was there and will be victorious even over death. We prayed and everyone went to their cars.
Many years ago I went to a funeral of a friend where they had a private burial for the family and then the service. I liked that idea. The cemetery is the hardest part I think and is very private. Then the service becomes a celebration of their life. The casket is not there to be a reminder of the body but all emphasizes on where they are not on the empty shell. So we drove to the cemetery. I use to work across from the cemetery and drove past it often in our small town. My father had been buried there 6 months ago. I came often to visit his grave sight but now it would hold a whole different meaning for me.
The beautiful wooden casket was already loaded on the lowering frame. The flowers looked so pretty. Our family and a few close friends gathered around. To be honest I don't remember a word said at that part of the service. I just remember sitting there with my family held close and looking at the casket. I remember praying for God to just surround us so we could get through this. And God did. The service was over and it was time to leave. How do you say good bye to your son and let them lower him into the ground?
I remember when the boys were all little. Nanna Ruth had died and we just had graveside services. The boys were enthralled. They wanted to stay and watch as they lowered the casket into the ground. Normally this is done after the family leaves but we had four little boys wanting to watch this happen so we did. They were fascinated. That morning the thought came to me and put a little smile on my face thinking about it. Small children deal with death so much differently than we do. I remember the first time I took Jacob to a funeral home. We went as a family to view the body. I can't remember if it was Nanna Ruth or possibly Bart's father, Dale. It was a somber moment. We walked in and I had tried to prepare Jacob for what he would see. He had asked to go. He walked right over to the casket and touched the body. He yelled, "Hey, mom. Come here and touch her/his hand. Feel this. Wow." I didn't want to touch the body. He was insistent. I finally had to move him away so he would quit telling me to feel it. Children are very resilient. It is we adults who have a more difficult time accepting it.
So as we sat there I remember those times and his fascination and wonder But I still didn't want to say goodbye. It is so final. I put my hand on the casket and wept. I told my sweet boy I loved him and walked away.
But those first few days it was not possible. Those first few days become a blur. So many people came and went and I am so thankful for their presence. Every morning I would get up, put on my makeup and stumble to my couch. My haven. The Olympics were on and curling became our fascination. I would sit again with my eyes closed listening to the announcer while repeating everything in my head so I didn't have to think. I became fixated on the tv. It brought normalcy to my life. Any time the boys or Bart would get out of my sight I would panic. Several of my friends could see the panic and would rush to my side to tell me where they were. They were going on about the business of picking pictures, getting clothes ready for the funeral, living life. I was not ready to move from the couch. I would fall asleep on the couch because I could hear life around me. Teenage voices in the night moving around the house, watching tv, eating, laughing. That is the normal I wanted around me. To go to bed in the dark with no noise brought too many thoughts. Thoughts I did not want. So I stayed sitting on the couch. Falling asleep with the world going on around me.
The morning of the funeral I lay in bed. I could feel Bart beside me. I was trying to cry silently so as not to wake him but he spoke. He too was lying there silently crying so as not to wake me. He said we have to get up and get ready for the funeral. Get ready for the funeral. So natural to say. How many funerals have we gone to? Gotten up and gotten ready as if it were such a normal day. But while we were getting ready for those funerals did we think there was a momma and daddy lying there in the bed silently crying so as not to wake the other one. We got o these funerals and we are sad for a moment and then go back to work. But for the family life does not go on as normal. Normal will never be the same. Someday I will find a new normal but it will never be the same.
We dress in silence, eat in silence, hug in silence. The house begins to fill with family and friends who have come in support and to comfort us as we go to the cemetery. These people are my rock. These people I know are praying for each one of us. I sit in the chair surrounded by these people and Bart tells me the cars are here and it is time to go. I tell him to wait. Up to this point I could do little. I was not able to even comfort my children. At this point I have had faith but the pain overtook it. I was not hopeless just helpless. There is a big difference. I knew that pain was mind numbing but I also knew through this all that God was still on His throne and still next to my side. With 40 people gathered in my living room I needed I had to give that hope on to them. I needed to let them know this was not the end. Our God is so much bigger than that. For the non believer this was the end of the road. But because I and Jacob knew our God died and rose again this was not the end. It was just the beginning for him. I would survive and my family would grow stronger because of it. God had a plan. I didn't like the plan but He had one.
So I asked Bart to wait. I had something I wanted to share with everyone. With eyes on me I opened my Bible to Psalms 22
1-2 God, God...my God! Why did you dump me
miles from nowhere?
Doubled up with pain, I call to God
all the day long. No answer. Nothing.
I keep at it all night, tossing and turning.
3-5 And you! Are you indifferent, above it all,
leaning back on the cushions of Israel's praise?
We know you were there for our parents:
they cried for your help and you gave it;
they trusted and lived a good life.
6-8 And here I am, a nothing—an earthworm,
something to step on, to squash.
Everyone pokes fun at me;
they make faces at me, they shake their heads:
"Let's see how God handles this one;
since God likes him so much, let him help him!"
9-11 And to think you were midwife at my birth,
setting me at my mother's breasts!
When I left the womb you cradled me;
since the moment of birth you've been my God.
Then you moved far away
and trouble moved in next door.
I need a neighbor.
12-13 Herds of bulls come at me,
the raging bulls stampede,
Horns lowered, nostrils flaring,
like a herd of buffalo on the move.
14-15 I'm a bucket kicked over and spilled,
every joint in my body has been pulled apart.
My heart is a blob
of melted wax in my gut.
I'm dry as a bone,
my tongue black and swollen.
They have laid me out for burial
in the dirt.
16-18 Now packs of wild dogs come at me;
thugs gang up on me.
They pin me down hand and foot,
and lock me in a cage—a bag
Of bones in a cage, stared at
by every passerby.
They take my wallet and the shirt off my back,
and then throw dice for my clothes.
19-21 You, God—don't put off my rescue!
Hurry and help me!
Don't let them cut my throat;
don't let those mongrels devour me.
If you don't show up soon,
I'm done for—gored by the bulls,
meat for the lions.
22-24 Here's the story I'll tell my friends when they come to worship,
and punctuate it with Hallelujahs:
Shout Hallelujah, you God-worshipers;
give glory, you sons of Jacob;
adore him, you daughters of Israel.
He has never let you down,
never looked the other way
when you were being kicked around.
He has never wandered off to do his own thing;
he has been right there, listening.
25-26 Here in this great gathering for worship
I have discovered this praise-life.
And I'll do what I promised right here
in front of the God-worshipers.
Down-and-outers sit at God's table
and eat their fill.
Everyone on the hunt for God
is here, praising him.
"Live it up, from head to toe.
Don't ever quit!"
27-28 From the four corners of the earth
people are coming to their senses,
are running back to God.
Long-lost families
are falling on their faces before him.
God has taken charge;
from now on he has the last word.
29 All the power-mongers are before him
—worshiping!
All the poor and powerless, too
—worshiping!
Along with those who never got it together
—worshiping!
30-31 Our children and their children
will get in on this
As the word is passed along
from parent to child.
Babies not yet conceived
will hear the good news—
that God does what he says.
miles from nowhere?
Doubled up with pain, I call to God
all the day long. No answer. Nothing.
I keep at it all night, tossing and turning.
3-5 And you! Are you indifferent, above it all,
leaning back on the cushions of Israel's praise?
We know you were there for our parents:
they cried for your help and you gave it;
they trusted and lived a good life.
6-8 And here I am, a nothing—an earthworm,
something to step on, to squash.
Everyone pokes fun at me;
they make faces at me, they shake their heads:
"Let's see how God handles this one;
since God likes him so much, let him help him!"
9-11 And to think you were midwife at my birth,
setting me at my mother's breasts!
When I left the womb you cradled me;
since the moment of birth you've been my God.
Then you moved far away
and trouble moved in next door.
I need a neighbor.
12-13 Herds of bulls come at me,
the raging bulls stampede,
Horns lowered, nostrils flaring,
like a herd of buffalo on the move.
14-15 I'm a bucket kicked over and spilled,
every joint in my body has been pulled apart.
My heart is a blob
of melted wax in my gut.
I'm dry as a bone,
my tongue black and swollen.
They have laid me out for burial
in the dirt.
16-18 Now packs of wild dogs come at me;
thugs gang up on me.
They pin me down hand and foot,
and lock me in a cage—a bag
Of bones in a cage, stared at
by every passerby.
They take my wallet and the shirt off my back,
and then throw dice for my clothes.
19-21 You, God—don't put off my rescue!
Hurry and help me!
Don't let them cut my throat;
don't let those mongrels devour me.
If you don't show up soon,
I'm done for—gored by the bulls,
meat for the lions.
22-24 Here's the story I'll tell my friends when they come to worship,
and punctuate it with Hallelujahs:
Shout Hallelujah, you God-worshipers;
give glory, you sons of Jacob;
adore him, you daughters of Israel.
He has never let you down,
never looked the other way
when you were being kicked around.
He has never wandered off to do his own thing;
he has been right there, listening.
25-26 Here in this great gathering for worship
I have discovered this praise-life.
And I'll do what I promised right here
in front of the God-worshipers.
Down-and-outers sit at God's table
and eat their fill.
Everyone on the hunt for God
is here, praising him.
"Live it up, from head to toe.
Don't ever quit!"
27-28 From the four corners of the earth
people are coming to their senses,
are running back to God.
Long-lost families
are falling on their faces before him.
God has taken charge;
from now on he has the last word.
29 All the power-mongers are before him
—worshiping!
All the poor and powerless, too
—worshiping!
Along with those who never got it together
—worshiping!
30-31 Our children and their children
will get in on this
As the word is passed along
from parent to child.
Babies not yet conceived
will hear the good news—
that God does what he says.
Many years ago I went to a funeral of a friend where they had a private burial for the family and then the service. I liked that idea. The cemetery is the hardest part I think and is very private. Then the service becomes a celebration of their life. The casket is not there to be a reminder of the body but all emphasizes on where they are not on the empty shell. So we drove to the cemetery. I use to work across from the cemetery and drove past it often in our small town. My father had been buried there 6 months ago. I came often to visit his grave sight but now it would hold a whole different meaning for me.
The beautiful wooden casket was already loaded on the lowering frame. The flowers looked so pretty. Our family and a few close friends gathered around. To be honest I don't remember a word said at that part of the service. I just remember sitting there with my family held close and looking at the casket. I remember praying for God to just surround us so we could get through this. And God did. The service was over and it was time to leave. How do you say good bye to your son and let them lower him into the ground?
I remember when the boys were all little. Nanna Ruth had died and we just had graveside services. The boys were enthralled. They wanted to stay and watch as they lowered the casket into the ground. Normally this is done after the family leaves but we had four little boys wanting to watch this happen so we did. They were fascinated. That morning the thought came to me and put a little smile on my face thinking about it. Small children deal with death so much differently than we do. I remember the first time I took Jacob to a funeral home. We went as a family to view the body. I can't remember if it was Nanna Ruth or possibly Bart's father, Dale. It was a somber moment. We walked in and I had tried to prepare Jacob for what he would see. He had asked to go. He walked right over to the casket and touched the body. He yelled, "Hey, mom. Come here and touch her/his hand. Feel this. Wow." I didn't want to touch the body. He was insistent. I finally had to move him away so he would quit telling me to feel it. Children are very resilient. It is we adults who have a more difficult time accepting it.
So as we sat there I remember those times and his fascination and wonder But I still didn't want to say goodbye. It is so final. I put my hand on the casket and wept. I told my sweet boy I loved him and walked away.
Monday, July 11, 2011
The pain is so great I want to die.
I have put off writing for a while because I have come to a time in this story that I do not like visiting. I have written about other things, I have ignored this blog, I have left town, I have even resorted to cleaning house. But I have to visit this place. I have to face my worst nightmare. I have to come to grips with what happened so I can go forward. I think we don't want to face our past, our fears, our nightmares but we must before we can ever go forward. So pray for me today if you think of it. Opening up old wounds sometimes causes pain and bleeding. Sometimes I think my heart has bled dry and there are no more feelings but to go here to this place that I don't visit often I know it will bleed again.
Bart tells me the funeral home has called and we need to go view the body so others can come pay their respects. View the body. It sounds so cold. But I know that is what it is. A body. He is not there. It is a shell but it is a shell that I carried for 9 months, a shell that I loved and watched grow into a man. It is my shell and I don't want this to be. I cried out to God to make it not so but my prayers go unanswered. Why can't God raise him from the dead like He did Lazarus. Why can't I wake up and this be a dream? Why can't my life just end right now and I don't have to go to the funeral home and view the body?
With family and friends gathered around we leave. I sit numb in the truck not believing what I am doing. I am riding with the world going on all around me to view my dead child. It still makes no sense. We arrive at the funeral home and I can't get out of the truck. I need to be strong for my children and Bart but I can't move. Bart tells me I have to. He comes around and makes me get out of the truck. The boys on the other side. Why can't I be strong for my boys? Why do they have to even do this? My mind screams out and I fear everyone can hear my thoughts. NO NO NO PLEASE GOD NO. I look around and see the pain on the faces as we walk across the parking lot. I see aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, father and brothers. I am so mad at Jacob. Why did this have to happen. I told him this was my biggest fear. I spent years trying to keep this from happening.
The doors open to the funeral home and I can't make my feet move. I stop, a complete standstill. My husband, Bart, ever so gentle tells me I have to go in. He guides me across the door frame one step at a time. Each step hurts stronger and stronger because I know what I am going to. I tell him no I can not do this. But he insists I have to. I need to.
We walk past the desk. The young girl smiles. We walk into the outer area. Everything looks so normal but my world is spinning. A few more steps and I face reality. Reality that this is truly real, no longer a nightmare or dream, but my child lies ahead dead in a coffin.
We enter the room and look left. The breath goes out of me. I feel my body being held up by Bart and my boys. My boys, my two not three boys. There he lies. He looks asleep. He looks like he could sit up at any moment and say this is a joke. But it isn't. We walk one step at a time forward. Closer and closer so I can see that yes, it is Jacob. Yes, he is lying there dead. I see his clothes that Bart, the boys and friends have picked out. I see his grandpa's nose on his profile. I see he needs a haircut. I see anything but the fact that he is no longer alive. I can't breath. I can't look anymore. This is too much to take in. Bart and the boys move me to a couch where I hearing deep deep moaning. It is coming from somewhere deep inside me. Bart is stroking my hair, telling me to breath, calm down. I close my eyes. I tell him I will be ok. Go be with the boys. The are standing next to their brother. Their shoulders close to each other racking with pain. Go Bart be with them. Go be with them because I can't. I can't look, I can't breath, I can't go on. I tell Bart please please let me die. Let me die right now. I don't want to go on living with my child dead. My sister in law comes to sit with me and hold me. I close my eyes tight. I don't want to ever open them again. Sight is too painful. I rock back and forth with unbearable pain. I think my heart is going to explode. I hear the people around me, crying, speaking, comforting. I want to die.
Bart tells me the funeral home has called and we need to go view the body so others can come pay their respects. View the body. It sounds so cold. But I know that is what it is. A body. He is not there. It is a shell but it is a shell that I carried for 9 months, a shell that I loved and watched grow into a man. It is my shell and I don't want this to be. I cried out to God to make it not so but my prayers go unanswered. Why can't God raise him from the dead like He did Lazarus. Why can't I wake up and this be a dream? Why can't my life just end right now and I don't have to go to the funeral home and view the body?
With family and friends gathered around we leave. I sit numb in the truck not believing what I am doing. I am riding with the world going on all around me to view my dead child. It still makes no sense. We arrive at the funeral home and I can't get out of the truck. I need to be strong for my children and Bart but I can't move. Bart tells me I have to. He comes around and makes me get out of the truck. The boys on the other side. Why can't I be strong for my boys? Why do they have to even do this? My mind screams out and I fear everyone can hear my thoughts. NO NO NO PLEASE GOD NO. I look around and see the pain on the faces as we walk across the parking lot. I see aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, father and brothers. I am so mad at Jacob. Why did this have to happen. I told him this was my biggest fear. I spent years trying to keep this from happening.
The doors open to the funeral home and I can't make my feet move. I stop, a complete standstill. My husband, Bart, ever so gentle tells me I have to go in. He guides me across the door frame one step at a time. Each step hurts stronger and stronger because I know what I am going to. I tell him no I can not do this. But he insists I have to. I need to.
We walk past the desk. The young girl smiles. We walk into the outer area. Everything looks so normal but my world is spinning. A few more steps and I face reality. Reality that this is truly real, no longer a nightmare or dream, but my child lies ahead dead in a coffin.
We enter the room and look left. The breath goes out of me. I feel my body being held up by Bart and my boys. My boys, my two not three boys. There he lies. He looks asleep. He looks like he could sit up at any moment and say this is a joke. But it isn't. We walk one step at a time forward. Closer and closer so I can see that yes, it is Jacob. Yes, he is lying there dead. I see his clothes that Bart, the boys and friends have picked out. I see his grandpa's nose on his profile. I see he needs a haircut. I see anything but the fact that he is no longer alive. I can't breath. I can't look anymore. This is too much to take in. Bart and the boys move me to a couch where I hearing deep deep moaning. It is coming from somewhere deep inside me. Bart is stroking my hair, telling me to breath, calm down. I close my eyes. I tell him I will be ok. Go be with the boys. The are standing next to their brother. Their shoulders close to each other racking with pain. Go Bart be with them. Go be with them because I can't. I can't look, I can't breath, I can't go on. I tell Bart please please let me die. Let me die right now. I don't want to go on living with my child dead. My sister in law comes to sit with me and hold me. I close my eyes tight. I don't want to ever open them again. Sight is too painful. I rock back and forth with unbearable pain. I think my heart is going to explode. I hear the people around me, crying, speaking, comforting. I want to die.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Timing is everything
Timing is everything and God's timing is perfect. I was reminded of that today. I have a friend, Weezie, who has pancreatitis. She will be going along fine and then all of a sudden have an attack. I thought she was going home on Tuesday but she didn't. On Wednesday God began urging me to go visit her in the hospital. I was busy getting ready for a trip and thought it is so far out to Mercy. But I kept feeling God's urging. So I got in the car and went to see her. We had a wonderful visit. During our time we went over why was this happening? She kept saying it made no sense for her to be so sick. She was feeling fine and then all of sudden it hit and she ends up in the hospital. And why didn't she get to go home yesterday. Finally, I prayed over her and said my goodbyes. I went to the elevator and as the door was closing a young lady ran in. I smiled at her and she made a comment about the elevators and spending so much time in the hospital. I asked if her person had much longer to be there. With tears forming in her eyes she said no. She went on to tell me they were suppose to go home with hospice yesterday but her friend decided to stay in the hospital. I asked how long they gave her friend ? Her lower lip trembling she said hours, anytime. She went on to tell me her friend, a 28 year old mom of two boys,had kidney cancer. As we walked out of the elevator I stopped her and told her I didn't know if she was a believer but would she mind if I prayed for her and her friend? She looked up with tears streaming down and said yes, please. Right in the middle of the lobby at Mercy Hospital I wrapped my arms around this precious sister in Christ and prayed for her and her friend who laid upstairs dying. Timing is everything. If I hadn't listened to God's urging I would have missed this chance to minister to this young lady. If I hadn't been thinking of all I had to do and missed my turn I would have missed this chance to minister to this young lady. I would have gotten to the hospital and earlier and left earlier getting on a different elevator. God had this all orchestrated. Wow. We walked out to our cars and she continued to talk of her friend. She said, "My friend has asked me if it will hurt." I looked a little puzzled and she went on to explain her friend was scared dying might hurt. We had a chance to talk about Heaven and how you get there and what it might like. I told her my son had died a year and a half ago and how knowing he was in Heaven and what he was encountering helped me. How he got to worship God himself every moment of every day somehow helped in my missing him. She thanked me for praying and talking to her and we went our separate ways. As I got in my car I thought this is why Weezie was in the hospital. For this very moment. I also wondered how many other opportunities had God orchestrated and I had missed them because I was too busy to listen to His urgings? Or too busy on my phone to notice the young lady with tears in her eyes? Oh just too tired to talk to one more person? I am thankful God gave me the chance to pray for that young lady. And I hope if her friend is still alive tonight you will pray for her to be free of pain and fear. And to pray that we all listen more to what God tells us and to open our eyes to the amazing opportunities He places before us.
Oh, when I called to tell Weezie I knew why she was in pain and in the hospital she was thankful. She said it was worth what she went through so this young lady could be ministered to. What a lady.
Oh, when I called to tell Weezie I knew why she was in pain and in the hospital she was thankful. She said it was worth what she went through so this young lady could be ministered to. What a lady.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Friendships
Reflecting over the past few days I realize we are walking, talking and breathing one because of the grace of God and two because of friendship. My family has been extremely blessed by amazing friends. I know most people say you have lots of acquaintances but truly not that many friends. But I don't agree. When Jacob died we were surrounded day and night by friends. True friends. They walked the journey with us and when we couldn't function they functioned for us. But I want to give some food for thought on being a friend to someone who is grieving.
I speak to educators and others on the topic of grief and have done grief counseling for many years. But until you have experienced grief you don't really understand it. So many of the things I have told people in the past I am rewriting in my talks.
First be there. Don't be afraid to go to the person's house. Don't wait for them to call you. Show up. Just your presence is helpful. You don't even have to say anything. People think they might say the wrong thing but if it comes from the heart it will be ok. And truly they will not remember what you said. Trust me. But they will remember you being there and the hugs. Sometimes they just need someone to sit and hold their hand and not say a word.
Don't say call if you need anything. I am the kind of person who on my best day would not ask for help from someone. I like doing for others but do not like to ask for help. To ask you to do something for me when I can't even form a sentence is beyond my ability. Plus many times I don't even know what I need.
The day we went to the funeral home to make the arrangements several ladies from my work came over and cleaned my house for me. Cleaned my house. What an amazing act of love. I have a friend whose husband passed away several years ago. She said people would just show up and mow her yard or work in her flower bed. They didn't wait for her to call, they saw a need and did it. She was barely making it to work every day and had a small child. The yard was not something she could do. She also said there was no way she would ever call and ask someone to mow her yard. Them just doing it was such a blessing.
People would say to me call if you need me or want to go get a coke or need to talk. I couldn't do that. Still can't. I needed someone to just stop by and say lets go. Someone to call and say lets talk. Someone to just listen. I am so glad those people were there. But I don't know how many times I have said those exact words and then never followed through by just going to get them not waiting for them to call.
I have another friend who because of differences we hadn't really talked in a year. But after Jacob died she sent me a card every week. Just a simple card telling me she was thinking about me. She did this for over 6 months. There were days when that was a life saver. Mother's Day, Christmas, his birthday a card just remembering us is something that means the world.
Pray. When someone tells me they are praying for me I take that so serious. I hold them to it. When I am asked to pray for someone I take it serious. I consider it such an honor to be asked to pray for someone. When I get an email about prayer I don't delete it until I have prayed for that person. I have people's names on my computer or mirror reminding me to pray for them. I hope when people tell me they are praying for me they really are. I need it. I have several friends that I have just text the words pray and I know they are doing just that with no questions asked. How amazing is it that no matter what time of day or night when all I can get out is pray I know they are lifting me up to the Almighty God.
The funeral. I don't remember much about the service but I remember how overwhelmed I was with the amount of people who came. I was overwhelmed how many went to the funeral home. I am still overwhelmed today by how any still go to the cemetery. That helps so much to know they haven't forgotten him.
Speak about him. My biggest fear is Jacob will be forgotten. I love for you to tell me stories about him. I love to hear his name mentioned. Please don't think it will make me sad. I am already sad. That is a given. But talking about him shows me you remember him. I especially love laughing about things he use to do.
And please don't pity me. I need compassion and prayer and love and friendship. But pity is not one of them. Sometimes when I walk away from a group I can almost hear them saying, she is the one whose son died. Oh, poor thing. I am not a poor thing. I was blessed with an amazing young man for a son whose life was cut too short. But God has a purpose and we will be ok. Sometimes I feel people avoid me because they don't know what to say. Hello, how are you? A hug and I have been thinking about you. That works.
When I returned to work I was most worried about people's reactions. I knew if they said nothing I would be crushed because it meant Jacob meant nothing. If they wanted to know the details I couldn't talk about it. They did the exact right thing. They hugged me and told me I had been missed. They stuck close by and took my lead. If I was teary they stayed closer and listened. If I laughed they enjoyed it with me. Soon we were back to our comfortable relationships.
Know that while I am smiling though my heart is breaking. I am a firm believer that you are what you say. My mom one day told me she was tired of people at church looking at her with such pity. I said then stop acting so pitiful. No one said I had tact. But I told her to stand up straight, shake their hand firmly and when they ask how are you tell them I am doing much better thank you. She had been saying oh about the same not well. So I take that same advice. I put on a smile and tell myself and others we are doing great and things are getting better. That doesn't mean I have forgotten or I am "over it". It means I am trying to keep a positive attitude.
Guess I have rambled on enough. I just know if it comes from the heart you will do no wrong. Be there for people. Some day you may need them there for you. And if you are a private person please know that is ok. But you can not go this road alone. It is too painful. God will be there with you but he also places wonderful people to help you on the journey. Hope you make a difference in someone's life today. And thank you for making a difference in my life. Trust me we would not be where we are today without you. I love you and am thankful for all the prayers, cards, late night talks, and visits. You keep me going.
I speak to educators and others on the topic of grief and have done grief counseling for many years. But until you have experienced grief you don't really understand it. So many of the things I have told people in the past I am rewriting in my talks.
First be there. Don't be afraid to go to the person's house. Don't wait for them to call you. Show up. Just your presence is helpful. You don't even have to say anything. People think they might say the wrong thing but if it comes from the heart it will be ok. And truly they will not remember what you said. Trust me. But they will remember you being there and the hugs. Sometimes they just need someone to sit and hold their hand and not say a word.
Don't say call if you need anything. I am the kind of person who on my best day would not ask for help from someone. I like doing for others but do not like to ask for help. To ask you to do something for me when I can't even form a sentence is beyond my ability. Plus many times I don't even know what I need.
The day we went to the funeral home to make the arrangements several ladies from my work came over and cleaned my house for me. Cleaned my house. What an amazing act of love. I have a friend whose husband passed away several years ago. She said people would just show up and mow her yard or work in her flower bed. They didn't wait for her to call, they saw a need and did it. She was barely making it to work every day and had a small child. The yard was not something she could do. She also said there was no way she would ever call and ask someone to mow her yard. Them just doing it was such a blessing.
People would say to me call if you need me or want to go get a coke or need to talk. I couldn't do that. Still can't. I needed someone to just stop by and say lets go. Someone to call and say lets talk. Someone to just listen. I am so glad those people were there. But I don't know how many times I have said those exact words and then never followed through by just going to get them not waiting for them to call.
I have another friend who because of differences we hadn't really talked in a year. But after Jacob died she sent me a card every week. Just a simple card telling me she was thinking about me. She did this for over 6 months. There were days when that was a life saver. Mother's Day, Christmas, his birthday a card just remembering us is something that means the world.
Pray. When someone tells me they are praying for me I take that so serious. I hold them to it. When I am asked to pray for someone I take it serious. I consider it such an honor to be asked to pray for someone. When I get an email about prayer I don't delete it until I have prayed for that person. I have people's names on my computer or mirror reminding me to pray for them. I hope when people tell me they are praying for me they really are. I need it. I have several friends that I have just text the words pray and I know they are doing just that with no questions asked. How amazing is it that no matter what time of day or night when all I can get out is pray I know they are lifting me up to the Almighty God.
The funeral. I don't remember much about the service but I remember how overwhelmed I was with the amount of people who came. I was overwhelmed how many went to the funeral home. I am still overwhelmed today by how any still go to the cemetery. That helps so much to know they haven't forgotten him.
Speak about him. My biggest fear is Jacob will be forgotten. I love for you to tell me stories about him. I love to hear his name mentioned. Please don't think it will make me sad. I am already sad. That is a given. But talking about him shows me you remember him. I especially love laughing about things he use to do.
And please don't pity me. I need compassion and prayer and love and friendship. But pity is not one of them. Sometimes when I walk away from a group I can almost hear them saying, she is the one whose son died. Oh, poor thing. I am not a poor thing. I was blessed with an amazing young man for a son whose life was cut too short. But God has a purpose and we will be ok. Sometimes I feel people avoid me because they don't know what to say. Hello, how are you? A hug and I have been thinking about you. That works.
When I returned to work I was most worried about people's reactions. I knew if they said nothing I would be crushed because it meant Jacob meant nothing. If they wanted to know the details I couldn't talk about it. They did the exact right thing. They hugged me and told me I had been missed. They stuck close by and took my lead. If I was teary they stayed closer and listened. If I laughed they enjoyed it with me. Soon we were back to our comfortable relationships.
Know that while I am smiling though my heart is breaking. I am a firm believer that you are what you say. My mom one day told me she was tired of people at church looking at her with such pity. I said then stop acting so pitiful. No one said I had tact. But I told her to stand up straight, shake their hand firmly and when they ask how are you tell them I am doing much better thank you. She had been saying oh about the same not well. So I take that same advice. I put on a smile and tell myself and others we are doing great and things are getting better. That doesn't mean I have forgotten or I am "over it". It means I am trying to keep a positive attitude.
Guess I have rambled on enough. I just know if it comes from the heart you will do no wrong. Be there for people. Some day you may need them there for you. And if you are a private person please know that is ok. But you can not go this road alone. It is too painful. God will be there with you but he also places wonderful people to help you on the journey. Hope you make a difference in someone's life today. And thank you for making a difference in my life. Trust me we would not be where we are today without you. I love you and am thankful for all the prayers, cards, late night talks, and visits. You keep me going.
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