Almost

I almost made it. Almost. I have stayed so busy the entire time from Thanksgiving to Christmas. I have filled every moment with work, shopping, errands, tv, and more. I have kept my mind moving every moment of every day until sometimes it is hard to fall asleep at night from being beyond exhaustion. But, today it came crashing down. Today, in the Christmas candy aisle at Dollar General my carefully guarded heart fell out and shattered as it fell upon the floor. First the stinging in the eyes. I squeeze them closed to keep them at bay. But slowly, they began to fall then faster and faster. I stand in the aisle of Dollar General looking at Christmas candy I begin to fall apart. I shake my head in wonderment, thinking why now? Why here? My brain quickly goes back to the very last Christmas Jacob is alive. I bought blinking Christmas cups. A silly thing to put in their stockings. I remember Jacob laughing, throwing his head back and laughing out loud. He jumped up and poured milk in his cup. Said he was going to drink out of it all day. He drank from it the entire week. It made me smile. The memory, the heartache side by side. Coming from the hidden dark parts I keep locked away. A single memory and the flood gates open. I blindly make my way to the counter. Pay and run to the car. I pull out and before I realize I know where I am going. Where I am drawn magnetically. My car goes without me even guiding. I go to my solace my last place to see him. I go to the cold dark earth of the cemetery. I pass the other visitors who stand in silence gazing at the earth and I know I have to go. I have to get out and bend down on my knees and cry out to God once again please, let this not be true. I have to see his name on the granite to make myself realize nothing has changed. Please God don't let it be. I lay my head next to the image of his face and tell him I love him. I miss him. I want him to be here. Silence. And as the coldness seeps into my body, my tears slow and the sobs that have racked my body lessen, I pull myself up. I tell my baby boy goodbye. I almost made it. Almost.

Birthday Celebration

As September the 13 nears I feel my heart tighten. I could tell you it was this time of year without a calendar. I can tell by the air and the leaves and temperatures. I know when my son's birthday is. I was there 28 years ago when I gave birth and for 23 years we celebrated his special day with cake, presents and family. February 20, 2010 changed all that. My son died. But even though my world suddenly came to a halt time didn't. Before long it was September 2010. I was faced with the idea that I would no longer plan a party or buy a cake or have our traditional birthday morning hunt for your present. No, September 13 would come and go. But as a mother I could not bare to think about this day going by without celebrating the birth of my son. It didn't matter that he no longer lived. It was still his birthday and I was still his mother. We must celebrate. I had not map, no guide book, no plan on how to be a mother of a deceased child. No one tells you how to do this. But I knew I must celebrate this precious child's special day. I began to think what could I do. What would not seem strange to family and friends. What could I live with. I thought of his tender heart and the desire to help others. Soon I realized that I had to continue on his giving. His no questions asked. Just do what Jesus said, give and how they use it is between them and God. Jacob's Cupboard was born that day. This Sunday my son will turn 28. This Sunday Jacob's Cupboard will turn 5. 5 long years without my boy. 5 long years of sorrow and sadness. But I can say today we walk a little stronger. We breath a little easier. We have come a long way. This journey has not been easy. Death of a child is not for the faint hearted. Death did not win though. We are not only surviving, we are thriving. Every day is an act of grace from God. Every day if not for the prayers of others we would fall. But somewhere along the journey God has given us our joy back. Our hearts still break and will never heal but our joy can not be stolen. This Sunday I will talk about our journey and what God has shown us along the way. Come hear the miracle of restoration and fulfillment of the scripture. This Sunday at West Metro Community Church, 601 W Main Yukon at 10:45 come hear our story. That night we will have our Birthday Celebration from 4-6 at the same place. Come, bring some food, have a piece of cake and visit for a moment. Help us celebrate the birth of our child. No tears just joy. Happy Birthday my precious baby boy.

A strong elderly man

I sat with a man who is dying today. I held his hand for an hour and a half, until my arm went numb. I watched as he dozed. I watched the peace on his face. He would begin to smile and the smile would soon move to his eyes while he slept. The crinkles around his eyes shouting out the joy that he felt inside. He awoke and I told him of his smile, the joy I saw. He told me he was filled with joy. He had had a good life, he is 101. He was truly at peace. I read his Bible to him while he listened with closed eyes, occasionally nodding his head. When I finished he opened his eyes and told me he was ready. Ready to go meet Jesus. His eyes twinkled. I prayed with him and then left. The peace that he is approaching death with is something we rarely see. We don't want to leave this life. It is familiar. Death is scary. But this man was ready. Just days before he was full of life. He exercised and walked to every meal. He wasn't sick or full of cancer. He just had a full life and was ready to go home. Home, heaven. I learned a lot from this 101 year old man. He lived a life with no regret. He lived a life with passion. He lived a life in a close relationship with God. He lived a life where he saw goodness around him. He lived a life of contentment. And he faced death the same. I pray that he goes quickly. I pray that he closes his eyes in that hospital bed and opens them to see the face of Jesus. I pray that those of us left behind will feel the joy and peace he felt someday and face death with the same dignity and longing. Today, a week later this amazing man left this world and enter into the arms of His sweet Jesus. Thank you God for bringing him into my life.

The Flowers

I went to buy the flowers. I buy flowers every season for the cemetery, my mom, dad and Jacob. I do it almost without thinking about it. I make a large saddle for my parents headstone and a tall full arrangement for Jacob. I do this often. Today, I went to buy the flowers. I picked up several ones then all of the sudden the place in my heart that I keep very very guarded and closed flooded open. Screaming through my brain was, "What are you doing?You..are..buying..flowers.. for..your..son..who..is..dead." Why? Tears brimming on my eyelashes I stopped, holding a stem of small pumpkins. Why? Why do I do this? I spend money,that could be used for people who are living, on flowers that will fade and blow away. So why? Why do I continue to do this? As I stood in the aisle holding the stem of pumpkins I knew why. I buy them in hopes you will come. I buy them in hopes that someone out there thinks of him often besides me. I buy them in case you are there for a funeral and out of the corner of your eye you see the flowers and wander over and realize that my son lived. My son lived and now is dead and that someone cares enough to put flowers on his grave. I buy the flowers because I can do nothing else. I can't help with his bills, or buy him new clothes. I can't send him a card or pick up the phone. I can buy flowers and put them on his grave so in case someone happens by they will know he is loved. He is thought of every day of every moment. I buy the flowers because there is nothing else I can do.

Time does not heal everything

Time heals all wounds. That is a lie. I miss my son as much today as I did 5 years 3 months ago when I heard the words "He is dead". Oh, I may look ok. I may act ok. I may sound ok. I continue living, staying very very busy, and smiling. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I don't want you to be at a loss for words. I don't want you to not want to be around me. So I pretend. But the moment I get alone I miss my boy. I can feel his hugs, hear his voice, smell his special smell, see his smile. And all I can think about is how much my heart hurts. How at the thought of not seeing him again this side of Heaven takes my breath away. My heart aches and my stomach is tied in knots. My chest is so heavy and breathing is difficult because I literally can't understand how this all happened. How one moment you are alive and then next you are dead and my world is crushed. I miss my Jacob today and 10 years from now I am sure the physically and emotional pain will be the same. You may think I should be over it. But time does not heal the loss of a child. A part of me died that day and will never recover till I see and hold him again in my arms. So look at me and think how well I am doing. Tell me again how it is time to move on. Think to yourself it is better but know it is an act. My tears are just a moment away. I keep my heart closed to feelings because if I let myself feel I am afraid I will the pain will break me in two. 5 years 3 months later time has done nothing.

Five years

Five years. Before I opened my eyes this morning this thought ran through my brain. Five years. Five years ago this morning I woke up and started my day with not a care in the world. I ate my breakfast while reading the paper, dressed and went to my moms. I worked around her house doing those things she wasn't able to do. Around noon I began trying to fix her cable. At 12:30 my phone ran and I almost didn't answer because of frustration with her remote. I wish I never had. That phone call changed our lives. Five years ago today I ran into the emergency room and saw the chaplain walking towards me and I knew. I knew my son was dead. Five years. I sit here this morning and think how can it have been that long since I felt your all embracing hugs and heard your laughter throughout the house? How can it have been five years. It still feels like yesterday. Yes, we have "moved" on. Yes, I continued breathing and living. Something five years ago today I saw as impossible. Yes, the world kept spinning even when I didn't understand how it could. Yes, we have felt joy and happiness when I thought I would never feel anything ever again. How? Through God's grace and mercy. I remember telling God while I waited for Bart and Kyler to arrive that my faith was not big enough to handle this. I told him I was going to fail. I told him I wanted to die right then. I begged Him to take me not Jacob. And while my faith was not big enough and still isn't, my God is. The only reason I am still sitting here this morning and able to take another breath is because of the prayers of others and God. People tell me how strong I am and I am not. I look strong on the outside. I talk about Jacob's death and how we celebrate where he is, not where he isn't. But know that myself and I think I speak for every other mother whose child has died that one never "moves on" or gets over it. I have done as my friend, Theo, told me back five years ago. I have taken that part of me that died that day and tucked it very carefully away in my heart. I closed the door on it and locked it tightly. It weighs my heart down heavily. I know it is always there but I keep it closed tightly. But on days like today when I am alone and no one is around to see me I go to that place and carefully unlock that door. Just the turning of the key brings me to my knees and I weep. I weep as if I was walking that hallway again. I weep as I remember having to face Bart and Kyler and tell them Jacob was dead. I weep as I walk into that ER room and see my child lying on the bed with life drained from him. I weep as I sit, once again, in the room with my family, not able to even hold my head up as we plan his funeral. I weep as I see his precious beautiful body lying in the casket. I weep as we lower his body into the cold dark ground. I weep for the hours of sitting in my living room, alone, waiting for him to come home. I weep for the loss. I miss him more today than I did that day five years ago. How is that possible? How is it possible to grieve even more today for the what will never be? I sit motionless while the tears flow then the racking sobs take over. But after my body is entirely spent, a peace comes over me. One I have felt so many times before. God's loving arms wrap around me and I am reminded of where Jacob is not where he isn't. Jacob's last entry in his prayer journal, "God I want to be focused on you 24/7 and rid of my demons." has been answered. And while my cry from that day five years ago is still true, my faith isn't big enough, my God is. So I wipe the tears, take the key and lock that room back up and tuck it quietly back into my heart. I know I will visit it again, sometimes when I least expect it. And while I know what the cost of visiting is, I will go back there. But I also know that when I am finished and all the tears have been shed and my body lies still, God will pick me up and carry me back to the peaceful moments when He assures me I don't have to be strong, He is. Jacob, I love and miss you. But I rest knowing that I will see you again my precious baby boy.