Joy in the Moment

The holidays are upon us. Thanksgiving today, Christmas and then we start a brand new year.

How will you spend these next few weeks? 

Some may create new memories. 

Some may relive memories of holidays past. 

Many…will do both. 

Many already do their very best to try and get through a day but the holidays seem to put extra emphasis on the losses we have suffered and the pain we endure.

Sometimes it is all we can do to just breathe much less find a joy that is more than fleeting. 

By now many of us have learned that the things in this life are but a moment. 

A visit with a neighbor, a hug from a grandchild, an encouraging word from a friend. Even our favorite meal is fleeting. But there is joy to be found in each of these. 

This week we had family and friends over to help us with our Christmas tree but the night before the house got busy with people and activity it was just Haleigh Raye and me. On a whim I decided to get down every single Christmas box I had stored. I could have been the main focus on Christmas Hoarders. By the time I got everything down and out it looked liked my dining room had turned into a makeshift Christmas trinket shop. I sifted through it all feeling like I was transported in time and, needless to say, many feelings came over me. Then I came across our ornaments. Ones we had been given, ones the kids had made over the years and special ones we had picked up over time. And then I came across a candle. Given as a present, it was one of those things I knew would look just right…someday. So I never bothered to get it out of it's original box. Each year as we went through all the Christmas storage the kids would get it out and ask me to burn and display it. But I never did. I was waiting for the right time. The right occasion. Each year it got packed back up and stored. And so…the joy of the moments of watching that candle burn, even as short as it might have been, never came. I never allowed them to. Too busy, too trifling or too frugal with something as small as a candle but for whatever reason it was never used. 

I missed the joy of that moment I could have shared with my kids. I missed giving them joy. I missed watching their joy. Even if it was something as simple as burning a candle. 

This season I challenge each of us, (including myself), to find the simple joys. There are struggles, there is pain. There is heartache and there is physical ailments. 

But there are also little hands that want to help. A face who wants the book read one more time. A senior adult who wants to share. A person that really wants to tell us how they are doing when we ask. 

Or the candle that needs to be burned…

even if just for a moment.

(And this candle that reminded me of so much will probably burn all season long.) 

"Your love has given me great joy and encouragement, because you, brother, have refreshed the hearts of the saints."  Philemon 1:7 

And as we say at my house...
Merry Thanksgiving and Happy Christmas to you and yours!!!

I miss Noah. And I want him home.

I miss Noah. 

And I want him home. 

And I don't think it is getting any easier. 

I don't want him running on streets of gold. 

I want him on the streets in front of my house. 

I don't want him to be in his eternal home. 

I want him in my home. 

I don't need him to be my guardian angel in heaven. 

I want to be his guardian parent on earth. 

You know, like how it's supposed to be. 

Job loss, divorce, arguments…those can be overcome and maybe even, in some cases, rectified. 

The loss of Noah will never, ever seem anything but unfair. 

Who deals these cards anyway? Was someone watching when I would play, "I can only imagine" as his lullaby night after night knowing years later that very song would play at his funeral? And how many people can say, when casually listening to the radio, "oh hey, that was played at my son's funeral" and be confronted with bits and pieces from that day. Yay for us for picking popular and comforting songs. But could I go one day and not hear one? When I bought the swimming trunks he wanted was it known somewhere that he would die in those?

All the boy wanted to do was jump off into the lake and swim and play. So did three other kids that day. How many millions of people have done that prior? How many millions have done that afterwards?

And to be electrocuted? Seriously? That's how it had to be? A finality of death associated with murderers. Not four children. 

When will accountability take place? Acknowledgement? 

But, in the end, even if all these questions are answered and closure commences, this fact will forever remain.

I miss Noah

And I want him home. 

Oh and grief? I'm over it..and I want it gone. "Hey, fate. How about a trade." 

Noah's Chocolate Milk

I woke up this morning and thought about all I needed to get done today and this week...and then started to think about getting Haleigh Raye up and going. Slowly, while all was still quiet and the day was not yet light, I reflected on what used to be my normal routine of getting them both going in the morning and how things have changed. Noah may be an angel now but on earth he was all boy with what seemed like an endless amount of strong will and energy and a little bit of stubbornness (that he did not get from me.  )I miss it all none the less. Our mornings are quieter, the hassles are less. If I don't set down with her, she sets across from a seat that can look very lonely early in the morning (well anytime of day for that matter) especially when it was his and his only for so many years. I always drink chocolate milk in the morning before I have coffee but today, after thinking about mornings with him, I made Noah's special chocolate milk which consists of a little milk, a lot of chocolate, freeze for 15 minutes and then serve. Haleigh Raye tasted tested for me and said it wasn't as chocolatlely as his was...but I was close. After I finished it to the last drop I started thinking no wonder Noah had so much energy after a glass of chocolate milk. He was on a chocolate high and, at least for the new few hours, I will be on one too. Sometimes you need encouragement to get through the day, sometimes you need a hug and all the time you can use prayer...but sometimes...you just need a glass of Noah's Chocolate Milk! 

(And, yes, I do drink from a Beverly Hills 90210 glass.)

"The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not comprehend it." - John 1:5

"At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me.

There are moments, most unexpectedly, when something inside me tries to assure me that I don't really mind so much, not so very much, after all. Love is not the whole of a man's life. I was happy before I ever met H. I've plenty of what are called "resources." People get over these things. Come, I shan't do so badly. One is ashamed to listen to this voice but it seems for a little to be making out a good case. Then comes a sudden job of red-hot memory and all this "commonsense" vanishes like an ant in the mouth of a furnace."

C.S. Lewis - A Grief Observed

Another season is upon us. 

It's now been a complete year and I have experienced the fullness of 4 seasons without someone I thought I would have a lifetime with and, not only that, but I thought he would have a lifetime as well. 

There really are so many things we have around us to be grateful for. I remind myself of that quite often not only because it is true but I have to find, search, dig deep for the good in the circumstances or depression and sadness will prevail. And there really is much good in the world. In our world. Haleigh Raye is thriving in so many aspects of life. She just wrapped up performing in a play in our community and loved every minute of it. We finally have a routine that is working for us. School is in full swing and the intensity has picked up but she is maintaining her own. Our church is about to move into a new building for our preschoolers and children and I couldn't be more excited about the opportunities that lay ahead for us to serve more families. 

Of course, even with all this upon us, there are still some memories, there are still times that can sneak up, catch me off guard and cause me to fall off balance. These moments often occur when I think I am just at the point where I have it all together. 

But that feels like the story of my life.

One of my biggest fears has been that people would forget Noah and his spunky self. But that fear has turned to myself and that I am forgetting him. I can't recall details of him. I have to set and think about his laugh. His face had a scar on it but where exactly was it?  And what was it he would do when I knew he was trying to get out of trouble -- wouldn't he tilt his head a certain way?

I don't know for sure. I can't remember. His demeanor, his personality...it feels like it is all colliding with a boy my mind has created along with the real Noah that actually did inhabit my world for 10 fleeting years. 

In the dead of the night is when it can hurt the worst. I want to recall him. But the memories, paired with the silence and loneliness of a day's darkest hours are without a doubt the scariest moments. The craving to remember overwhelms me. But the need to rekindle his memory is up against the fear of the feelings of loss those moments inevitably bring and it's enough to make me stop, not allowing myself to go on to my dream.

This happened to me just this past weekend. After finally getting a restless and sick Haleigh Raye to sleep, rest eluded me and my thoughts turned to Noah and I asked myself the question I find myself asking several times a day, causing me to lose concentration and making my task at hand altogether  mundane. "God, what is Noah doing right now? Right this very minute. What has he done today?" Of course that pondering led to other memories from his toddler years to more recent ones and I realized there was gaps in what I could recall. Had the normal passing of time done that? Had grief impacted what I could remember? Death had taken so much from me already. Were detailed memories dying too? 

After wrestling with those thoughts I prayed for God to not let me forget and then... I fell asleep. I actually woke up and as I was texting these fears to someone I got a random text that included these words:

"Good morning, Jessica. I didn't know if you had/saw this picture. Love ya!"

I don't know who took this picture and I don't know how long it had been out there but it was one I had never seen before. His glasses. Oh, yes, I remember those glasses. And that goofy, short hair cut he got. Yes, I remember that too! Look at his pose! He would do that at times especially at pictures. And the armband he wore. He wore it for months. The shirt. I have it.

It was exactly what I had asked for at a time I felt helpless. 

...

Darkness surrounds me and steals Your blessings.  I am defeated and in the grasp of the enemy.  But Your forces are at work in the world, touching others through Your divine inspiration.  Oh me of little faith.  Believing the lie. Taken by darkness and fear.  God let me see Your light.  And praise be that You stir others for my delivery.  Forgive my weakness and self pity, I pray.

The smallest of things can bring on the hardest of emotions.

It all started with a new box of toothpaste, or at least, what I thought was a new box of toothpaste. Well, no, now that I think about it, this all started with me cleaning out my cabinets. Such a mundane but routine task I had neglected for quite a well because, honestly, I don’t have a lot of food anymore. I rarely shop like I used to and never ever do I buy in bulk as I so often did. Why should I when it is just Haleigh Raye and me and we are not huge consumers…of anything it seems..except maybe data on our phones. 

So when I recently cleaned out shelves around my house I realized the expiration dates.  January 2013. April 2013. December 2012. July 2012. Yes, some even went back to May 2012. It was at that moment I became conscious of the fact that I have to be the most sentimental person alive. Or at least that I have ever come into contact with and I cried at that. I cried and cried. Not because I felt like I was wasting perfectly good food when other people were in need of it, that was a small percentage of it too, but I knew that when I shopped for those items I had shopped with Noah in mind. And, sentimental me struck again, when I thought, he probably even ate out of some of this. Oh good grief. I had no reasoning. I wanted to save it all. Even the toothpaste, which I had found fallen behind other items, had expired in January 2012.

And then I think I started just a sad, downward spiral of my emotions and hit every single stage of grief in just a few days worth of time. Is this a normal part of grief? Or am I at the crazy stage? Or am I just clinging on to whatever memories, thoughts of Noah I can remember, or to a life that involved him in my everyday schedule.

Add to all these upheaval of emotions that I had to help Haleigh Raye , once again, deal with what she experienced on July 4th. One morning, there was a horrible wreck on the side of the road. With it being on our way to school we feared it might be someone we knew. As Haleigh Raye looked for familiar faces or cars she saw someone being worked on. Immediately she had tears in her eyes as she recalled seeing her own brother being worked on at the dock July 4^th. Her next words were, “I hate what that family is getting ready to go through” and I knew she meant it. She hated it and her heart went out to them and it affected her throughout the rest of her day. Then a few days later she was setting in a service and someone gave their own testimony about dates that had affected them. Unaware that Haleigh Raye was among the crowd, July 4^th was addressed and how the impact of that day left a rippling effect. It ended up being a very inspiring and encouraging talk but just not one Haleigh Raye could set through nor would I ever expect her to.

And there I was with all these feelings. Angry at what took Noah away and it never being addressed with me. Sad that Haleigh Raye had all those last visions of her brother. Depressed that he was never coming back to everything that he left behind, food, toothpaste, toys and all. 

So I did what I had wanted to for a long time. I wrote. I wrote and I wrote the longest sentences to what I feel was part of the reason Noah isn’t here anymore and then I condensed it. It felt like I threw it out to the wind and I have no idea if anyone caught it or not. I would like to think so but...I may never know.

Of course the week went on and onward we went. Haleigh Raye and me both bounced back to our normal (at least the new normal anyway) selves and routines carried on because life, as we have all learned, does go on. Luckily we both try to stay pretty busy with our lives so that we don’t allow ourselves to get stuck in one phase of grief or the other. The friends that have surrounded us are nothing short of uplifting and confidence builders. The family we have is unwavering and always there. And then there is our faith. Our faith has been shaken to its very core and we have questioned so many things we never even gave a second thought to because it wasn’t put to the test in such a deep, challenging way...until now. 

A few weeks ago Haleigh Raye sang with the youth choir and, of course, I watched all the youth but especially her as she sang with joy and happiness and I knew she truly believed what she was singing. I see her live it out every single day. The words to the song have came back to me over and over and over and over these past few weeks as we have faced these scenarios. What meaning these words have now. 

You give and take away

You give and take away

My heart will choose to say

Lord, blessed be Your name

We have a choice how we respond. Among a variety of responses, we can respond in denial (which I’ve been known to do), we can respond in sadness (which I’ve definitely done) and/or we can respond in anger (got the t-shirt on that one.) 

But it is when we get stuck in those negative stages is what sets us back. And so just like the song says, "my heart will choose to say, Lord, blessed be YOUR name. That is a choice we make. That is a choice we have. That is the free will we are given. 

FBC Youth - "Blessed Be Your Name"

(Click on link to be taken to video.)

Fingerprints that wash away but thankfully the memories never do.

"Tiny hands, tiny fingers, that always want to play,

That never stop exploring that wonder of today,
Tiny hands, tiny fingers, that from the very start,

Will reach out for tomorrow yet always hold your heart."

This past Saturday I was working around my house cleaning here and cleaning there. After a morning of work I lastly came to my front storm door that is all glass. I remember this door being one of the first things I installed when we moved into our house because the other one was old and you couldn't see out it very well. I wasn't thinking about all the tiny handprints that would be all over my door for years to come and me, being the OCD person I am, feeling the need to constantly clean it almost everyday. My kids LOVED this door and the view it provided them. They would set and watch the weather, other kids play, the mailmen come and go and, one of their favorites, the city dump truck as it would cruise through the neighborhood. 

As I was cleaning away, on a door that didn't need as much attention as it did a few years ago, I was reminded of those long days of cleaning that glass along with a million other things I had to get done with two preschoolers who were 18 months apart. I felt like the days would never end and it was just minutes between waking up in the morning to lying down at night. The day flew by that fast and they, along with the demands of life, took all the energy I had. 

Honestly I don't know how I did it and I don't know if I could do it at the age I am now. I remember all those seasoned mothers who told me, "this is just a season" and "this time too shall pass." Easy for them to say. They looked put together, even had their hair brushed and were on time for events. They were actually setting down and enjoying their meals. I, on the other hand, felt like I had been in a mud wrestling competition with two untamed horses. They could be the sweetest things but, at times, I looked at the two of them and seriously questioned their maternity. How could I have produced such creatures that did such things and caused me to act in a way I never would have?  Sometimes the only reassurance of control I had was to remind myself I had a measured out portion of Benadryl for each child ready to be inserted into their mouths within a moment's notice. 

I've always felt called to being in the ministry and I truly enjoy it. It has been a privilege for my kids to get to be loved on by so many of our church members and they have always been there to give me encouraging and loving advice, but there was sometimes, I am sure even they questioned my mothering skills during those preschool years. I can recall, one evening, a church member coming up to me during our Wednesday evening meal and telling me "how well behaved your children are." I was glowing with pride and almost missed the last of the sentence when this was added, "compared to last year. They are actually setting down and not throwing their food at people." The pride quickly dissolved and I thanked her for, what I think, was meant as a compliment.

Oh, the memories. Oh, the joyous times. Oh, the rushing around, the seemingly never ending household duties to take care of.

Washed away...just like those handprints.

Life, for me now, is so different. My laundry is caught up. My to do list is shorter...and gets checked off each day. My house stays clean and my schedule is manageable. There is extra time for one more cup of coffee in the mornings. I can actually set down and watch a tv show from start to finish. I no longer have to hide my desserts for fear of little mouths wanting it. I used to request, "could someone please just give me 5 minutes of peace and quiet?" 

Sure life is busy with a teenage girl but those 5 minutes of peace and quiet are far too easy to come by now. Those handprints are gone and the glass is all clean, but the memories they left behind will most certainly last and carry me through a lifetime.

So mommas and daddies with little ones remember wise words I was once told. "This is just a season" and "this time too shall pass" cause it surely is and it surely will. 

But always, ALWAYS keep the Benadryl, or something of like nature, close at hand. 

Healing through doing...

“Mental pain is less dramatic than physical pain, but it is more common and also more hard to bear. The frequent attempt to conceal mental pain increases the burden: it is easier to say “My tooth is aching” than to say “My heart is broken.”   - C.S. Lewis

How true these words are. Physical pain is something that can be treated. It seems there can be a fix or a remedy for what ails one or a treatment plan can be put in place. If one has a broken bone, surgery or a cast is usually the next step. 

But what about a broken heart? There is nothing that is guaranteed to work. There is no prescription. There is no over the counter medicine. Not even an old wives' tale that will cure this ailment and sometimes the symptoms can't even be expressed. 

Last summer after July 4, I can remember feeling everything made me sick. To look at anything was nauseating. To set up and see the world going on around me was terrifying. Loneliness filled my days and fear stole my sleep. There were times I wouldn't even want Noah's name said or any reference to him. Just the slightest memory of him overwhelmed me. And the future. What future? I couldn't even fathom a future. It was literally, at times, hour by hour, even minute by minute.  "I feel like I am the sickest I have ever been and nothing in the medicine cabinet will help me" are words I recently found scribbled in a journal from last summer. 

14 months later and I find myself still with that exact same feeling. It truly is like an amputation. I will never not feel like something is missing. 

Because something is. Someone is. 

All this love I have for him just didn't go away on July 4, 2012. His death didn't stop me from being his mom. The need to do something for him is still there. The desire to talk about him, the stories to share about him are as present now as they were July 3, 2012. 

I've caught myself, a few times, reminiscing with others about Noah and his antics and realize I think I just told this story a few weeks ago. To others the stories will be the same ones over and over as the years go by. 

To me, they are all I have. 

His memory is what I hold onto to...I guess that's why I'm always reminding others he lived. Stories of how he was all boy. How he was so fun. And he was mine. 

So....I look for ways I can do something, anything for him now, and I know it's not really him I am doing it for. It's for me. It's helps me deal. It helps me cope. It helps me heal. 

Noah loved being outside. He would have rather been outside playing, biking or on the baseball field than anywhere else. He also took up gardening and landscaping those last few months. He was slowly learning to see and appreciate God's creative beauty around us. 

Often he would surprise me with flowers and be so gentlemen-like when he presented them to me. Look at him in this picture. He has the best hair. He has the brownest eyes and had the tannest skin. Had/has. Which do I use. If only I could go back to this minute...this moment....

Actually being outside with him, watching him play, watching him work are some of the last memories I have with him. 

A few weeks ago his headstone was installed. Finalizing it had been a long, emotion filled process that took so much energy, time, consideration and prayer.  But it kept me occupied. It forced me many times to search for verses that, not only displayed his faith, but would sustain us in years to come and remind us of Noah's life and His promises. 

But the mother in me still wants to be able to do something for him.  So recently, as I sat looking at his and Nate's completed monuments, I felt a desire to beautify the earth surrounding the distinctive stones just as Noah had beautified the flower gardens in our backyard in the weeks before he was taken away.

So we cleaned...

And we shined...

And we (ok, they) prepared the ground.

And we mulched and planted... 

And, in doing something that Noah had come to enjoy, we helped each other heal. 

And there is still much to be done...luckily. :)