Dear Recipient

One year ago your life was changed when my son saved yours.  One year ago, anxiously awaiting a phone call, you didn't know if you would live to see your next Christmas. On what was the longest and hardest day of my life, your phone rang.  No doubt your minded swirled with a mix of emotions. The joy of long awaited, answered prayers coming to fruition, mixed with the knowledge of what that meant for someone else's family. That family was mine. 

There are actually 3 of you...Jake saved 3 lives.  At 15 years old that was never something we even talked about and everything happened so very fast he had no way to give me any input, but I know my kid and had he been able to, he would have freely chosen it.  He was the type of person who was nice to everyone, he had a sweet, genuine, kind, warm spirit. He was that person who noticed someone sitting alone and went and invited them over to sit with him. He wanted to make sure everyone felt included and went out of his way to be a good friend.  If I had let him, I think we would have sheltered every stray animal in the area, he was even hit by a car once while rescuing our neighbors’ dog. Given the choice, I have no doubt, he would have chosen to help you. 

He didn't get that choice, by the time we realized how sick he actually was he was already incoherent. He woke me up around midnight with a horrendous headache and less than an hour later he could not tell me his name. By the time the transport team came to take us downtown to the pediatric ICU it was almost over. He went into shock on the ride down and by the time they got him settled, CT confirmed his brain had herniated. That was Wednesday morning.  It would take a couple more hours to confirm that he was in fact brain dead, but I knew.  In my heart I know that God gave Jake a choice to stay with Him or to return and I believe with all my heart that it was Jake's choice to stay with his Savior. Maybe you were on his mind when he made that choice. 

I'm a nurse, so it was by instinct that I asked about organ donation. You see nurses have a crisis mode when emergencies arise. We have check lists to help us stay focused so that we can remain on task when our hearts threaten to get lost in the emotions of what is going on around us. I was in nurse mode and Life Gift was a check point on my mental list. Now granted I had no experience with them or the process, but it was on the list and by golly I needed that list!!!

Talking to people and blogging have been a great source of healing for me, but not on this topic.  This has been very hard for me to talk about or even think about. It was by far the most painful part of his stay at the hospital. There are many reasons that is so. One of them being that ,as nurse I know some of the reasons why someone would need a liver or kidneys.  As much as I don't want to admit it, even knowing not every reason is self-neglect, I questioned you. Would you take care of yourself and recognize what you have been given?  Also just having the conversation about what Jake was eligible to donate and what all of that entailed was incredibly hard.  There is a hard and fine line when you talk about such things. It's incredibly difficult.  And to be very honest I didn't like the Life Gift Coordinator.  I'm not sure I could give a reasonable explanation.  I'm sure she is a nice person, but I didn't like the things she was saying, or how I felt when she said them and that colored the experience as well.  There are many reasons, but by far the hardest part was the waiting.  I had no idea how long the lab work and matching process would take. I had mentally prepared for everything to happen Thursday early morning, but by 3:30-4:00 in the afternoon and after hearing "just about 30 minutes more" for the fourth or fifth time I was about to lose it.  I really can't explain to you what it's like to know that your baby is gone, but is still with you, that there is no hope what so ever that he will ever open his eyes or smile even one more time. I was also terrified that he would code and my plan to hold him to the end would be taken away from me. It was really the only thing I had left. He didn't code and at about 5 pm I helped remove all the tubes and he was disconnected from the respirator and I put my ear to his chest. I held him and sang and listened as his heart slowed, he gave up his spirit and then it stopped. I stood up and kissed him before they rolled him away so he could save you.

It's hard for me to talk about, that’s  not likely to change anytime soon. I imagine it's hard for you too.  I can't imagine what you must have gone through.  Jake's gift to you was another chance at life but whether or not you realize it, you gave me a gift as well. You gave me time. Time, though extremely difficult, time, that I could never get back.  Precious time and moments that I will cherish for the rest of my life. 

Some day maybe we will meet, I'll hug your neck and you'll hug mine.  There will likely be a connection that neither of us will be able to put words to.  Until then, know that I don't regret a thing!  Nothing!  I am at peace with it all! It's not at all how I thought Jake's story would go ,but I am incredibly thankful for the time I had with him and so unbelievably proud to be his mom.  God has allowed me to see so much over this last year of the good He has worked from our agonizing loss and you are but a piece of that.   I pray that you are healing well, that you love deeply those in your life and hold them tight, that you are blessed with good health, that you have learned the value of every moment, as I have, and that you realize the gift you have given me. 

Most Sincerely,
Jake's Mom

It's Wednesday

What day is it for you? I had to ask that of Zach today because it is Wednesday, January 27, 2016 and that is 2 different days for me.   Grief is a funny thing, for me, it doesn't know a date, it remembers a day. At least that is what my experience has been so far this year.  It's Wednesday. Wednesdays are bad. Last year on Wednesday Jake woke me up around midnight and the longest and hardest day of my life began.  Wednesday morning my boys woke up to a tear stained face grandma, trying her best to hold it together.  Wednesday was prayer requests and phone call, ambulance rides, CT scans and horrible conformations. Wednesday was a tsunami of love crashing over us in a hospital waiting room, it was posters and cards plastered over our fence and filling our mailbox. For our friends and family, it was frantic driving and scrambling to arrange flights.  For my boys and many of Jake's friends it was a day of uncertainty ending in a good-bye they never anticipated having to say.

It's Wednesday. We have things to get accomplished today, patients to be seen, test to be taken, and school attendance to be counted, but it is Wednesday and we just can't...

Today is not a good day...

Today I want to die. Before you freak out and call for the straight-jacket or write and tell me I need medication, let me finish. I'm not suicidal nor do I have any plans for now or in the future to hurt myself. I just don't want to be here anymore. I would most prefer mass rapture that way no one would have to feel the pain of loss, but really I don't care, I just want to see Jake. It has been exactly 51 weeks since I was last able to hug my kid. It has been 360 days since I heard him say "I love you Mom."  I know exactly where he is, I just can't get there without dying, so I want to die.  I realize that is not currently the best or valid option. I REALLY do want to live, if not for myself, for my other boys, it's just the missing him hurts really, really badly today. 

I was right, fog-brain has returned. Panic attacks have reared their ugly head once more. The horrific wails of a broken heart once again keep me awake at night and I'm struggling not to go off on everyone who crosses my path. I'm irritated and angry. I feel horribly alone and empty.  Experience has shown me that this will not last. We are truly, incredibly designed by God to withstand more than anyone could fathom. Our brains absorb the trauma and although permanently changed, healing prevails.  Jake's favorite Bible verse is "I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made," and we are! I am amazed every day at what we have accomplished in a year, when 51 weeks ago I could barely fathom how we would make it one week. 

The horrible reality is that this will never end. I will never get over losing Jake and every year will present new challenges. 2015 was the year of firsts without him. 2016 will be Zach turning 15 and God willing, living out that entire year, completing things his brother was not able to. Ben and Nate will continue on in Jake and Zach's footsteps and 2016 will likely be the year when all my boys will be taller than me.  Friends will have birthdays and my would-be 16, going on 17 year old will not be there to see junior year and Prom or college visits. The weight of all that is too difficult, so instead I just breathe and look at my cluttered living room and wrestle with the thought of cleaning or just going back to bed...

This next week is just going to suck.  Like a toddler, I want to stomp my feet and throw a fit, but that won't keep the days from coming. So instead, like Dory, I'll just keep swimming. Doo-do-do-do-doo-doot-doot...and vacuum, maybe

                                                                                          

Wearing Black

When did the tradition of wearing all black while in mourning end? Why?  While I don't love the idea of wearing nothing but black for an extended period of time, I do think that perhaps it would be helpful to the outside world and the sensitivity of ignorant people.  I think the tradition of wearing black helped other people realize the wearer needed extra care and understanding. Even if that behavior wasn't always offered, the grief was at least recognized and acknowledged, and when in a moment of grief, the wearer overreacted to stress or an insensitive comment at least it was well known the reason behind the outburst.

As a population now we have very little tolerance for such things. We expect people to act a certain way and respond with pleasantries when greeted. In general we do not have time for other people's problem, we have more than enough ourselves!  Empathy? What's that??? We have lost the art and skill of caring for people. We don't even know what that is supposed to look like.  Our ability to put ourselves in someone else's shoes, as a population, has more or less become a thing of the past.  And we ask a lot of stupid questions!!! Someone recently actually asked me, why the holidays were hard.  And followed it up, " I mean was it just because your son died and wasn't there?"  My "wtf" face must have said it all.   

By far one of the stupidest question has got to be, "How are you?"  What reply other than, "oh good, and you?" do people actually expect?  I get it, it's something we say without even thinking about it, but that question puts those of us who are grieving in the very awkward position of either having to be real and make the conversation completely uncomfortable or give the fake response of "oh good and you?" and shove our grief away for your comfort. 

There is nothing comfortable about death or grieving. There are no words that will fix things; no pill to magically make pain leave.  Simply acknowledging that fact is okay. "It is so good to see you! I have no idea what words to say because I know how hard it must be, but it really is good to see you". Saying something like that gives acknowledgment to the grief, then if you have time to listen, you could ask, "how are you doing?" and if you don't, don't. 

One week away from the first anniversary, none of us are okay. We are all back to not sleeping well and being more irritable and sensitive than usual. The huge gaping hole of his absence offers a glaring and terrible reminder that life will never go back. The reality of life having moved on without him hits hard.  And if you think it is hard on me, imagine how hard it must be for my 14, 12 and 11 year old. I try to be okay for them, but sometimes I can't and the sobs come anyway. My strong, protective boys don't know what to do and I can't imagine how hard it must be for them to hear me soak my pillow with tears. 

My friend, Dianna, lost her son suddenly on New Year's Eve.  I do believe that if there was a limit to the amount of grief one person should have to deal with in a lifetime, she has met her quota!! She is in "the fog" right now. I remember that well. Your brain shuts down and damage is done. You literally cannot function normally. Anger flares can happen at any moment and your filter is either completely disabled or severely malfunctioning. You feel completely crushed and broken and it is hard to even imagine how you will keep breathing, let alone survive until the next hour. "The fog" does slowly ebb away and the broken pieces of your life begin to rearrange and life slowly but surely settles into a new routine. The deep aching pain that was once raw and all consuming, sinks just below the surface, always there, but not quite so raw. It becomes a faithful companion, your loved one's permanent place of remembrance. I'm beginning to see that we are likely going to be knocked back to those first foggy days for the anniversary, but I suspect that the healing steps we have taken to this point will carry us through and we will be doing better again after.  

I have come to know and understand that grieving mothers are THE strongest people in the world.  We have to be because otherwise we would die. We want to die and yet we continue to draw breathe.  Also, by and large our journey is one taken completely alone, even when there is support right next to you, you feel completely and totally alone, with no one or no- thing having the ability to give relief from the hurt.   The hurt we endure every day is unthinkable. With the latest storm in my life, I've had to interact with many new people. People who are there to do a job and have very little concern with emotions and little if any sympathy, let alone empathy. Someone one actually told me the other day, "you have to understand, no one is going to put themselves in your shoes." I know she is right, because mostly people just don't give a shit! But as I sit and ponder that I realize it really is more that no one wants to put themselves in my shoes because then they would have to feel the pain I endure. They would, if even for a moment have to feel the weight of a heart broken into a million pieces, desperately trying to stay together and continue beating.  I'm glad they don't know that pain and I wish I didn't, but it would sure be nice if they could at least acknowledge how hard every day must be, because it is. 

Our family is going through the motions of life, from the outside we look like we are doing okay, but by evening we are all exhausted from the work it takes holding it together. Hopefully by mid-February we will all once again be able to operate without quite so much effort again. Perhaps by then sleep will once again come more easily and keeping up a good face won't take so much work. Until then maybe we'll try wearing black...or not, people will just think we've gone goth!

Dear Jake

Dear Jake,

Well I did it! I signed up, waited 4 hours in the longest line I've ever seen and auditioned for The Voice. You know probably more than any of your brothers how much I love to sing. The bass amp and drums had you tapping your toes before you were even born. I rocked you and sang for hours every night, not to mention our daily dance and sing hour before dinner time. No wonder you loved music and theatre so much, you were bound to either love it or hate it I suppose.  Nate talked me into it, but I did it for you. Not that I didn't want to do it for myself, but it's an old dream for me. Your dream was to go to New York as soon as possible and earn your place.  I did it for you. Inspired by you. You had finally come to accept yourself for who you were and you were not afraid to put yourself out there. If you were afraid of failure or rejection, you didn't show it, even when I knew better.  That's one of the things that makes me so proud to be your mom!  You really LIVED. You were passionate about your friends, your acting, and perusing your dreams, not so much your grades or homework, but hey!  

I made friends in the line, just like you would have. We passed the time with our stories and discussed song selections and which coach we would choose if we could have our pick. I thought of you a lot and smiled a lot and I think you were there smiling too. I sang my heart out and nailed it in every way! I didn't even mind not advancing to call back. It wasn't really about that anyway... I did it for you, because I could and because I wanted to and because...well...why the heck not!!! 

Since you left I've done a lot!! I went indoor skydiving, I went to DC and sang with Ms. Fennel at one of the monuments, I went to Vegas and went sight-seeing and took some awesome pictures. We sat up close at the rodeo and saw Blake Shelton.  I changed jobs and stopped working night shifts forever.   We took Anna- Kate to New York with us and crammed as much in as we could, we saw 2 plays while we were there, we retraced our steps from our trip the year before and went to the Village  on the day the Supreme Court made a huge announcement with my friend Thomas. We had the biggest birthday party imaginable for you and even marched in the 4th of July parade.  We did a lot of ordinary things too like football games, plays and band concerts.  I got season tickets to TUTS in your honor and we took Hannah Bell with us to the first show of the season- Matilda.   Zach, Ray and I ran a 5K on Thanksgiving.  We went to Chicago and Milwaukee for Christmas we played games and hung out with family, even went to a hockey game!  Through all of it we took selfies, acted goofy and had  a lot of fun!  I know you were with us every step of the way too, because I know we all carry you with us, just like you carry us with you. It's not at all how I want it to be, but it's what we have and I'll take it. I miss you! I can't wait to see you again and hear all about what you are getting to do there.  It's ridiculously hard not having you here, but I promise to keep living until all my work here is done.

Hey bud, if you have any ideas on what we should do on the 29th, let me know. Zach and I are at a loss, nothing feels especially right.  He's not really the party planner like you are, so any help is appreciated! I love you!!

-Mom 

A Year of Storms

2015 has come and gone. Last year on New Year’s Eve, Jake had friends over for dinner, he cooked. Not wanting to wait for my help, he attempted to recreate chic-a-chic-a boom-boom sauce from our favorite restaurant. He boiled the peppers and put them into the blender, just like he had seen me do before, but neglected to seed the peppers first. In addition he added a couple extra Serrano peppers for good measure. The result was a sauce so hot it was practically not eatable. He and I spent about an hour adding cream cheese and whatever else I could think of to cut the spiciness so we could eat the enchiladas he had planned for our meal.  We laughed and had a great night with his friends before they left for another friend’s party. He rang in 2015 surrounded by friends new and old. Ray, me and the rest of my boys were at my house with a campfire, music and blowing up gingerbread houses with black cat firecrackers. It's really one of my last vivid memories of him, which made this New Year’s Eve so very painful. I could not have anticipated how hard the stroke of midnight would be for me this year. As much as you would think I would be ready for 2015 to be over I was not!  2015 will forever be the last of my memories which include Jake living life with us. The last of a year of "this time last year" with his name still attached to the memory. Midnight came with tears and stifled sobs as I reluctantly acknowledged the passing of the year.

I'm reminded of the Bible verse from Romans 8: For we know that in all things God for the good of those who love him and have been called according to his purposes.  I was thinking a lot about this verse the other day as I was being battered by yet another storm that has recently hit our family. I know beyond any doubt that good will come from our current storm, just as it has from the one that took Jake, but sometimes in the midst of it that is not always easy to see. I thought of Joseph, rejected by his brothers, beaten and thrown into a cistern, brought out only to be sold into slavery and forced to travel on foot through the desert to Egypt. Once he was there things looked promising briefly until he caught the eye of his master’s wife and was falsely accused of having a relationship with her and promptly thrown back into a dark pit, this time a prison. Storm after storm Joseph endured his predicament. I have felt that way this year. It felt like just one thing after another would hit and I get knocked down all over again. And when it wasn't me enduring another storm it was my loved ones. It would be easy to fall into despair. I am tired and worn. The words of the Tenth Avenue North song feel fitting more often than I care to admit..."my heart is heavy from the work it takes to keep on breathing."

Lamentations 3:21-23 says, "Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lords great love, we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning, great is your faithfulness". And so at the cusp of despair, I am continually brought back by the reminders of all the good I have seen even in this past year.  As I reflect back on the year I am grateful for so many things. I have managed to not only to continue to draw breathe but to really live.  God was so very faithful even beginning in the hospital to show me moments of good and his abundant love, peace and faithfulness in everything.

In this year, we traveled more than we have in our entire lives taking 2 family trips and 1 school trip to DC, Zach had the honor of laying a wreath at the tomb of the unknown soldier, we went indoor skydiving, to the Houston Rodeo, saw a couple plays, made a couple trips to Galveston. Ray and I made it through what could possibly be the hardest test of any relationship, not without some bumps along the way, but we made it.  I am beyond blessed to have such a truly amazing, supportive and thoughtful man in my life! I prayed for God's best for me and I truly see that answered in Ray. My family and friends have been such a blessing! I can honestly say I have some amazing friends, without whom I would not have made it through. 

It's not been an easy process, it's not likely to get any easier any time soon.  The line of storms seem to be continuing into 2016. It's not been a great start to the year to be honest, but I know God has it under control. His faithfulness endures to all generations and I don't even have to look long to know that to be true.