in process

I made a choice to overcome the barriers preventing me from doing what my heart was telling me to do.  There are some very special mamas out there that need a tangible gift of love this Mother's Day.

Only one problem...the sweet family that is currently fighting to save their own daughter's life was planning on taking them up to Children's Hospital LA for me...TODAY.  Unfortunately, their appointment was moved to next week so I need to find another way to get them up to the hospital (65 miles north of here).

Will you please pray with me?  I know that God will find a way to get them to the mama's who need them.  But I also know that He likes it when we pray.


XOXO

feelin' like a big huge failure...

Last year I was able to make these awesome Mother's Day gift bags for some of the sweet mama's that were fighting for their kids' lives in the hospital.

I commited to doing it every year.

Well, Mother's Day is just around the corner and I have yet to start.  I had great intentions.  I still have great intentions.  Life just got in the way...

Repiping our entire house
Repainting much of our house after having holes cut in our walls for the above
Replacing a washer & dryer
Replacing a dishwasher
Completely insane sports schedules for 4 of my kids (you have NO idea)
A two year old that I cannot put in a jumperaroo while I get stuff done


So, today I sit here feeling like a huge failure.  

HUGE!  
My excuse...finances are tighter than ever and time is beyond maxed out.

BUT - there are sweet mama's that deserve a nice Mother's Day gift.  I need to rally.  

So...here I am.  Coming to my blog for motivation and encouragement.  I know that I can do something.  Maybe not as much as I was able to do last year.  But something nonetheless.

So, I was thinking...if anyone out there wants to make their own goodie bags and deliver them to your local children's hospital....I can print the tags and mail them to you.  Any takers?

If not, I would appreciate a "you can do it" comment.  

Sometimes...a girl just needs a little push.

horray for April

Every year I think that it will be easier...it isn't.  

I was told that the memories would fade...they haven't - at all!

March is tough.  Plain and simple.  

TOUGH!!!

Today I feel a sense of relief.  The images that replayed in my mind all month long have ceased.  The cloud that has hung over my head has blown away.  The constant battle to appreciate what I have rather than miss what I don't isn't in the forefront of my mind.  April is just easier.  Actually, that applies to every month with the exception of March.  March is just tough and I need to expect that it always will be.

In the first two years after Nate died, God kept putting Philippians 4 in front of me.  At first I was completely appalled - offended to say it mildly.  How in the world could he expect me to REJOICE when he allowed my sweet little boy to die...and in a horrific and tragic way at that.  But part of my grieving process involved me figuring this out. 

Last week, this verse popped up again in my bible study.  It's been a while since I've read it.  It definitely means something different to me now.  I can see how I have been transformed.  How I view life, myself...and God differently now.

Philippians 4
 ⁴Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! ⁵ Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. ⁶ Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ⁷ And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.


I'm not going to allow myself to live in the a pit of grief and despair all year long.  I have been given a good life.  I have many blessings to be thankful for.  But I think it's okay that March is tough every year.  Along with the sadness comes memories of my sweet Nate Ryan.  He is always in my thoughts but during March...he is at the forefront.  I'm no grief expert but I think that's okay.  I think that's reasonable.  Many others may not.  But once you have walked my path and carried my grief, then...and only then will I consider your advice (I gained confidence from my last post).

Hugs to those of you who prayed for us, left comments or lifted us up in any way.  This is the only place that I put myself out there.  That I allow myself to be vulnerable.  That I express my feelings.  I'm grateful to have this venue (even though it's public and I can't prevent some people from reading it).

Happy April...no foolin'. 

This is a MUST read!

This is a post written by Kay Warren.  Kay is the wife of Pastor Rick Warren (see bio below) and they have a huge church near our home.  Last April their adult son who suffered from mental illness committed suicide.  Her words penetrate my soul. 

Please read it.

Rick Warren is the founding pastor of Saddleback Church in Lake Forest, California, a Christian community that he and his wife began in their home in 1980, with just one other family. Today Saddleback is one of the most prominent churches in America with more than 20,000 members attending four campuses each week, reaching out through some 200 ministries. The well-known evangelical Christian leader rose to worldwide fame after publishing his wildly popular book, The Purpose Driven Life, in 2002. To date, the title has sold more than 30 million copies, making it the top selling hardcover book of all time.

As the one-year anniversary of Matthew's death approaches, I have been shocked by some subtle and not-so-subtle comments indicating that perhaps I should be ready to "move on." The soft, compassionate cocoon that has enveloped us for the last 11 1/2 months had lulled me into believing others would be patient with us on our grief journey, and while I’m sure many will read this and quickly say “Take all the time you need,” I’m increasingly aware that the cocoon may be in the process of collapsing. It’s understandable when you take a step back. I mean, life goes on. The thousands who supported us in the aftermath of Matthew’s suicide wept and mourned with us, prayed passionately for us, and sent an unbelievable volume of cards, letters, emails, texts, phone calls, and gifts. The support was utterly amazing. But for most, life never stopped – their world didn’t grind to a horrific, catastrophic halt on April 5, 2013. In fact, their lives have kept moving steadily forward with tasks, routines, work, kids, leisure, plans, dreams, goals etc. LIFE GOES ON. And some of them are ready for us to go on too. They want the old Rick and Kay back. They secretly wonder when things will get back to normal for us – when we’ll be ourselves, when the tragedy of April 5, 2013 will cease to be the grid that we pass everything across. And I have to tell you – the old Rick and Kay are gone. They’re never coming back. We will never be the same again. There is a new “normal.” April 5, 2013 has permanently marked us. It will remain the grid we pass everything across for an indeterminate amount of time….maybe forever.

Because these comments from well-meaning folks wounded me so deeply, I doubted myself and thought perhaps I really am not grieving “well” (whatever that means). I wondered if I was being overly sensitive –so I checked with parents who have lost children to see if my experience was unique. Far from it, I discovered. “At least you can have another child” one mother was told shortly after her child’s death. “You’re doing better, right?” I was asked recently. “When are you coming back to the stage at Saddleback? We need you” someone cluelessly said to me recently. “People can be so rude and insensitive; they make the most thoughtless comments,” one grieving father said. You know, it wasn’t all that long ago that it was standard in our culture for people to officially be in mourning for a full year. They wore black. They didn’t go to parties. They didn’t smile a whole lot. And everybody accepted their period of mourning; no one ridiculed a mother in black or asked her stupid questions about why she was STILL so sad. Obviously, this is no longer accepted practice; mourners are encouraged to quickly move on, turn the corner, get back to work, think of the positive, be grateful for what is left, have another baby, and other unkind, unfeeling, obtuse and downright cruel comments. What does this say about us - other than we’re terribly uncomfortable with death, with grief, with mourning, with loss – or we’re so self-absorbed that we easily forget the profound suffering the loss of a child creates in the shattered parents and remaining children. 

Unless you’ve stood by the grave of your child or cradled the urn that holds their ashes, you’re better off keeping your words to some very simple phrases: “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Or “I’m praying for you and your family.” Do your best to avoid the meaningless, catch-all phrase “How are you doing?” This question is almost impossible to answer. If you’re a stranger, it’s none of your business. If you’re a casual acquaintance, it’s excruciating to try to answer honestly, and you leave the sufferer unsure whether to lie to you (I’m ok) to end the conversation or if they should try to haltingly tell you that their right arm was cut off and they don’t know how to go on without it. If you’re a close friend, try telling them instead, “You don’t have to say anything at all; I’m with you in this.”

None of us wants to be like Job’s friends – the pseudo comforters who drove him mad with their questions, their wrong conclusions and their assumptions about his grief. But too often we end up a 21st century Bildad, Eliphaz or Zophar – we fill the uncomfortable silence with words that wound rather than heal. I’m sad to realize that even now – in the middle of my own shattering loss – I can be callous with the grief of another and rush through the conversation without really listening, blithely spouting the platitudes I hate when offered to me. We’re not good grievers, and when I judge you, I judge myself as well.

Here’s my plea: Please don’t ever tell someone to be grateful for what they have left until they’ve had a chance to mourn what they’ve lost. It will take longer than you think is reasonable, rational or even right. But that’s ok. True friends – unlike Job’s sorry excuse for friends – love at all times, and brothers and sisters are born to help in time of need (Prov. 17:17 LB).The truest friends and “helpers” are those who wait for the griever to emerge from the darkness that swallowed them alive without growing afraid, anxious or impatient. They don’t pressure their friend to be the old familiar person they’re used to; they’re willing to accept that things are different, embrace the now-scarred one they love, and are confident that their compassionate, non-demanding presence is the surest expression of God’s mercy to their suffering friend. They’re ok with messy and slow and few answers….and they never say “Move on.”

..

If you have read through my blog posts you will see how much I can relate to this post.  With some of my closest friends telling me to "get over it" and "not let this ruin my life" only 3 weeks after Nate died...I could go on and on with the examples.  I felt so alone.  So misunderstood.  I can't even begin to say what a blessing it was for me to read this post.  
 
This is something that EVERYONE needs to read.  Those that have buried a child and those that haven't.  Please, please, please share it.  It would be so helpful to live in a community of people that understood and could support one another in the midst of tragedy.

memories & a smiley rainbow

I am one of those people that remembers almost everything.  Not like the people on Jeopardy.  Rather, through my own experiences.  When BIG events (not normal days) happen in my life, good or bad, they form the type of impression in my brain that is not easily forgotten.

My husband always jokes about how I remember EVERYTHING but a few months ago we watched a show about Mary Lou Henner and he said "That's why you are having such a hard time with Nate's death.  You remember every detail about it and you can still feel the emotions that were related to each memory". 

YUP!

I think that's it.  

I remember most of the details of each of those 25 days.  Most of the days I remember what I wore, what I ate, what nurses were there and what was on TV.  Most of all, I can still feel the emotions of staring at the numbers on the monitors, watching them cut and poke my sweet baby and the joy of the "good" days when I got to hold him and kiss him.  I remember almost everything.

This year is especially tough.  The days match up exactly as they did back in 2008.  He was born on a Wednesday...had heard surgery on a Monday (yesterday I kept reliving this one)...died on a Sunday (not looking forward to the 30th).  It definitely makes it a little tougher when the days line up exactly.  My mind just "goes there" and am constantly fighting to bring it back.

********************

On a brighter note, I wanted to share a special moment I had with my oldest son last Friday.  He was in the backyard shooting baskets and I was in the kitchen making dinner.  It went something like this:

N:        Hey Mom, did it rain today?

Me:      Nope.  It hasn't rained for 5 days.

N:        Doesn't it have to rain to make a rainbow?

Me:      Yep!

N:        Well then why is there a rainbow?

Me:      Dude, there's no rainbows today.  It's all blue sky.

N:       Yes there is.

Me:     There's no chance of a rainbow today.  

N:       Well it's right there.

Me:     Let me see.

I stepped outside and was completely shocked to see this:

Do you see it?  
It's like a smile directly over our house.
  
I took this picture with my phone.  I tried to get my camera to take a better one but it was gone as soon as I took this pic.


For me, it was a sweet sign from Nate, or God, or both.  It was like a hug from the inside out.  I miss him every day.  I wish that he was here.  But I know he's okay. 

Nate's special day...

 A couple of days before Nate's birthday my BIL found a friend of a friend that worked at Disney and would be able to "sign in" 3 of us.  We told the kids that it wasn't a sure thing...we didn't want them to be crushed if it didn't work out.  Either way we were going to do a balloon release at his brick.

 Everyone picked their color of balloons and wrote their own special notes

 (Brady will get to do his own next year).

 We sang Happy Birthday and watched them float away (less tears this year).

 It was a beautiful BLUE SKY day!!!!!  

So grateful that God gave us that...last week was yucky and stormy!

 We tried to explain what it was all about...he just liked watching the balloons float away.

 The friend of a friend of a friend worked out!!!  

We made it into the park!  

It was ridiculously expensive for the other tickets but we decided it was worth it.

***As a side note...I seriously wish that Disney would reconsider their price increases (basically doubled the price of annual passes).  There are some families that save for years to visit that amazing place.  And then there are people like us...where we started a tradition of spending Nate's bday at the park each year to help us get through a really tough day which was thwarted by profit margins.  Please reconsider Disney.  Oh how I wish I could just have lunch with the CEO one time...It's not all about paper and numbers...

 The kids took turns wearing Nathan's birthday button.  They love when people walking by wish them a happy birthday!

 Late lunch at one of our favorite places.  My kids earned free kids meals from the Summer Reading Program at the Library which really helped out (kids meals are $7.99 there!!!) 

 Lots of emotions this week with my oldest.  

She is so protective of this little one.

 We had them bring a special dessert for Nate.  

Ironically, there was also an empty seat at our table since Brady's high chair was at the end.  

And...check out the background - A beautiful RAINBOW!  

We know that God's looking after him.

 The kids and I made cupcakes (everyone decorated their own) and we had a BUZZ party in Tomorrowland. 

I usually end our day with a picture of the kids holding their Disney balloons.  We stayed until the park closed at 8pm (we typically don't stay until closing).  Evidentally, they don't sell balloons after 7:45 (all the other stores stay open 1 hour past the park closure EXCEPT for balloons).  I was so bummed!  

We went to guest relations and I begged them to figure out a way to get my kids balloons.  It's a tradition!!!!  They said that if we came back today...they would get them for us.  My hubby is going to try and drive up there this afternoon (30 min. each way).  LAME.

Again...I really need to have lunch with the CEO...or they need to go on Undercover Boss.  Who wants to drag around a balloon when you are going on rides (they won't let you on anyway).  You should be able to buy a balloon on the way out of the park!!!!

Well that was our day.  We've made it through six of them.  

So grateful we had the distraction of Disney...I know that one year we won't be able to go and I dread that.  It's much easier at the "Happiest Place on Earth".

Happy 6th Birthday Sweet Nate!!!

More than anything else in this world, I wish you were here so I could give you a big birthday hug and kiss.  

Miss you... every. single. day.  

Today I miss you even more.