Live, Laugh, Love... Intentionally

If I chose a season as my favorite, it has always been autumn. I love the subtle and beautiful changes that come with fall. September still has a few hots days, but also some crisp sunny mornings. October brings more sunny and colder mornings, and the cooler temperatures start to arrive. I love the changes nature brings with the jewel tones of the leaves turning from green to yellow, orange, brown, and even some burgundy. There’s a distinct decorating period that launches with Labor Day and the start of school. Whether you love all “fall” or the fun of Halloween and then Thanksgiving or a mixture of it all, there’s something for everyone’s desire. Me personally, I do a little of all… some fall, with mixes of Halloween and then Thanksgiving!

This season changed a little bit for me in 2014, as we went through the sudden and heartbreaking death of Dillon’s dad on September 14 and on October 20, 2016, my world completely crashed when I lost my oldest son to a tragic auto accident.  Fall and everything it meant to me became more intentional as well as emotional. I intentionally kept up my habit of decorating for fall. It brings me joy. It is important to find joy and keep joy, especially during the most difficult times. Last year, we lost my niece on 9/11… another Fall loss (yes, actually summer, but my fall season begins Labor Day weekend!). I know how difficult this week is for my sister and her family. I have been through the pain of the first anniversary of the loss of an adult child. It is heartbreaking. It is emotional. It is difficult.

When you are a survivor, you learn to stop taking things for granted, stop thinking you will have another day, and your message is to show your love for one another. Family becomes more important. You make more time for what’s important and let go of what isn’t. You might even have a motto for the tough days. When I lost BJ, my motto was… get up, get dressed, and go about your day. You see, I knew he would want me to keep living even though he was gone. He would want me to live my life to the fullest and I knew that began with getting out of bed. When you are in the deepest grief, it is so easy to stay in bed, dwell on your sorrow and loss, and want to stop moving. Don’t get me wrong… I had a few of those days, but I did my best to live “intentionally”. Intentionally getting out of bed and getting dressed every day. Even if I did nothing but watch TV, scroll my phone, or sit on the couch and cry… I intentionally got out of bed.

So, whatever season you are in, live it intentionally. Do you find difficulty with depression during the dark winter months? What can you intentionally do to make it better for you? Daylight light bulbs and lots of them? Use the time to do some indoor projects? That will not only knock some things off your to-do list, but it will give you something of purpose to do and the joy of accomplishment when it’s done. Does spring bring too much rain?  Use the dry days to plant more flowers and let the rain do the watering for you. Finish up more indoor projects and plan for the outdoor ones. Does the heat of the summer boil your blood after too many hot days? So, you don’t have air conditioning? I bet you have a friend or two that does and I bet they would love to spend some quality “friend” time with you on an extreme heat day. Use the morning hours for outdoor time. Whatever season is the toughest for you, change your thinking about how to get through it “intentionally”.

Life does throw curve balls. Loss and grief do happen. It changes you and sometimes you must intentionally work your way through it. Don’t stand still in. Don’t dwell on it. How do you want others to act (or react) when you leave earth? Maybe that is the example you use for yourself when you unexpectedly and heartbreakingly get thrust into grief. Me… I want everyone to be joyous that they knew me, thrilled that we chose to be in each other’s lives, and celebrate the long, beautiful life I had. #PeggysParty 😉 Yes, of course, there are always tears, but Live, Laugh, and Love. Live life with intention. Laugh every chance you can. Love others deeply.

When I started writing today, it didn’t start out to be a blog post. It was going to be a Facebook post. I had just finished texting my sister to tell her I love her and let her know I am aware of what this week is for her. Of course, those emotions ran into next week and the eleventh year without Dillon’s dad, and in October nine years without BJ. That’s how grief can be. It takes hold and before you know it, you are crying, dwelling, feeling numb, or one of the many other emotions that sneak up on you.

So… I am going to intentionally end this blog post and go about my day. Happy Fall Y’all! 

In Loving Memory... LSN

Overwhelmed. That is a part of grief. An early part of grief. As we prepare to say goodbye to another beloved family member, lost way too soon, we feel overwhelmed. Overwhelmed, anxious, sad, confused… just a few feelings of grief. My sister and her family are going through this, sometimes unbearable, journey that no parent EVER wants or should have to go through.

I began my journey eight years ago and said goodbye to my son, and here I am… still living life, still grieving, and still learning to walk my way through it every-single-day. The old say, “it gets easier”, “time heals all wounds” is a crock! Just my opinion, of course. But seriously, it doesn’t get easier to feel the loss of your child. You just learn to live life through the pain, through the grief, and through the loss.

Our sweet, Laura, was available and part of my early journey eight years ago. She made exorbitant amounts of food for our family, spent time with me, and helped with my sons (her cousin) Celebration of Life. That’s what I think about during this fresh journey of grief I am in. I think about her acts of kindness, our 50-year “familyship” (because it is so much more than friendship), her social media posts of how boldly she was living her life. She was an amazing cook, a loyal family member, a traveler, a crafter… and she made it all look easy and came naturally to her. Way too soon!

Several times since, 9/11, the day she passed (yea, we won’t ever forget that day!), I have gone to her Facebook page. To look at her pictures and read through posts from friends and family sharing memories and what Laura meant to them, how she impacted their lives, and how much she is already missed. It is not easy reading through the posts when tears begin to fill your eyes, and you start to feel them roll down your cheek one by one. Sometimes I just had to shut the computer lid, because it was too overwhelming, and it was way too familiar. But it is important to feel the compassion and the love others have for her and how greatly she is missed by so many.

I still have the three feet by five feet bulletin board I used for BJ’s Celebration of Life… filled with Facebook posts of those that felt loss and grief. It doesn’t hang in my house, and it doesn’t even hang in my shed, but it is in my shed. I catch a glimpse of it every once in a while, and sometimes I will read one or two. That’s still all I can handle.

Laura Sue Newton… proudly one of the “Sue’s” in our family, proudly a “Newt”, and proudly, an Oregonian. She was a historian at heart and wanted to capture all the historical learnings she could. She gave mention to Oregon’s “Birthday” every year. She took time to see historical sites in new places and places she had been to many times. And still, these are my thoughts and my memories of my niece. Her parents have different memories and different feelings of grief and her siblings different than ours. Her nieces, nephews, cousins, aunts, uncles… well the list goes on and on. But also, her friends. Friendship is not just an important part of life; it is a necessary part of life. Laura had room in her heart and in her life for many. Many are feeling loss as they are grieving their friend that they have shared many memories with. I hold you in my heart knowing this is not easy for you.

Today, I pray for peace over the many hearts grieving. I give thanks for the blessing of Laura in our lives and that God chose our family to be her family. Cherish those you love and that are important to you, because in a blink of an eye…

Happy Seven in Heaven…

 Another trip around the sun without you, BJ. How do we ever learn to keep on living after losing someone that is part of us? It’s that question and so many more, when you lose your child, your sibling, someone so young when they are taken from us. We struggle to understand. We struggle to accept. We struggle to find reasons to get up, get dressed, and meet the day. BJ, that is what I have done every single day; it’s my mom motto post child death…Get up, get dressed, meet the day. I knew immediately that is what BJ would want me to do…although, it would have been so easy to stay in bed and not face the day.

I promised to keep your memory alive, and I do, to never forget (I mean, there is NO forgetting you!), and to always say, “3” when someone asks how many kids I have and to elaborate with, “two are adults and one died xxx years ago.” Of course, that then means I usually get, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know” of which I politely respond, “oh, I know and it’s ok, I’ve learned to live through the grief, and I know he’s always with me. I still have two amazing sons, four grands, and tons of family and friends that keep my life full.” That always removes the awkwardness the question brought about.

Seven years ago, I just couldn’t answer those questions or fathom how we would get through this. Today, I do every day…I answer with dignity and love, I reach out when I know someone has lost their child to offer support or sit in silence, I mention his name in casual conversations, I share his stories (and there are a lot of them!), and I share my story. My story is different than his dad’s story, different than either of his brother’s stories, different than his daughter’s story…it’s different than any other griever’s story. It’s unique to me and my relationship with my son. Everyone uniquely goes through grief. The hard part is learning not to get stuck in the process. To keep a good focus on your life and love for others. To get up, get dressed, and meet each day. I am not saying that is easy. In fact, it is quite the opposite. It takes willpower and a desire to not let yourself die when they die. If you are reading this and you have lost someone dear to you, no matter their age or your age, you know exactly what I mean.

Today (and everyday), I choose to celebrate a wonderful man that died too soon, a son that brought laughter, love, and even some heartache to my life, a child that taught me how to be a mom and love unconditionally. I also celebrate two other sons that bring love, strength, and joy to my life, that keep me going every single day, and that are the focus of why I didn’t stop living seven years ago when my world crashed. You see, I celebrate all three of my sons, every day because even though one died, he is still with me, and the other two still need me.

Her Journey Begins

Loss happens and grief ensues. That is just the process of life. What we never expect is to lose a child. After all, parents are supposed to die first; aren’t they? Some of us learn the hard way, that isn’t always how it happens.

Just over four years ago, I moved into my forever home and soon after met this lovely lady that lived right behind me. We chatted from her deck to my yard. She watched as I transformed a sea of weeds and overgrown plants into my garden oasis. We had a friendly and unsaid battle of solar lights! Eventually, we even had her grandson put steps from my garden to her space, so we could easily visit one another. She admired my Memorial Garden and was compassionate about the loss of BJ. What Shayla didn’t know then, is that she would endure the unimaginable and become part of this group that no parent wants to.

Shayla lost her son, one month ago today, in a motorcycle accident, and now her journey really begins. Today is the “first” of many firsts…first month without Ryan. She will count every single “month” until it is the First Year since he’s been gone. The first year is the most brutal. First this, first that, and it all just sucks and fills our eyes with tears…with every damn first. I never met Ryan, just like she never met BJ, but we know one another and understand the pain the other is going through. Today I am not only Remembering BJ, but I am also remembering Ryan. I will remember that because you are gone, my friend needs me. I will remember that because you are gone, others are grieving and trying to find their new normal. I will remember that because you are gone, I have learned to mentor someone through her first few weeks of grief.

My sweet Shayla, I cannot say this gets easier because in all honesty, it doesn’t. We do learn to live the new version of our life, where we hold our son in our heart and not in our arms. You will notice things that never caught your attention before. For me it is seeing “BJ” on a license plate or sign. Just seeing that melts my heart. I see BJ in both of his brothers, his daughter, and his nephew. His spirit lives on in many ways, and Ryan’s will too. Take the time to notice the small things, give grace to others that are grieving, and allowing yourself to cry when you need to, laugh at something he once said or did, and above all else…take care of you. You will be headed home soon and there will be days of silence. Cry when you want, reflect when you can, but take care of you.

Although we remember the ones we lose, don’t forget to love the ones we have.

 

Merry Christmas in Heaven, Son

I’m the mom of three boys; two on Earth and one in Heaven. One of the most difficult questions I have had to answer over the past 5+ years is, “How many kids do you have?” or “Do you have kids?”  and then, “How many?” You see, for me, the answer would never be two. I have three children. But, when I answer “three” and I am among friends that “know”, I get the look like, “did she just say that?” or “how difficult it must be for her to answer.” The answer is yes. Yes, I did just say that. Yes, it is difficult to answer. But the hardest of all questions is, “How old are your kids.” There is no other answer than, “17 almost 18, 37, and my oldest would be 40, but he’s been gone for just over five years.” If I simply answered “17, 37, and 40” I feel like I am lying or misleading and I just cannot do that. My son died. But he IS always my son, not “was” my son. I know this might be hard to understand, especially if you have not lost a child. But for those of us who have, you do understand.

For those that sometimes wonder and to those of you who ask…yes, I am doing fine. I am living life. That in no way means that I do not miss my son, because I miss him every single day. I just know that I must “live” not simply “be”, not just go through the motions of life. I have not fulfilled my purpose on Earth, he did.

Our hearts ache and the tears still flow. The holidays are joyful and sad. Today as I was driving back from the store, I imagined BJ coming to Portland today and that we would all go to Bryan’s for our family Christmas tomorrow. It would be happy, chaotic, and everything Christmas is meant to be. BJ would love Bryan’s home in the country, he would love playing with the kids, he would talk his big talk and tell his unending stories and I’d enjoy every minute seeing my family together. Reality is, he is not here, the grands are getting older, and we will still enjoy our family Christmas. We will miss his presence and we will feel that piece of our family that is only with us in spirit, but we will enjoy the day, the memories, and the chaos.

BJ, I miss you so terribly, and as these tears fall, my heart aches and I still lose my breath trying to hold back the tears as I write this. I know you are at peace. I know you watch over all of us. I know you are awaiting each of us to join you. We will one day…in the blink of an eye. Merry Christmas in Heaven, son. Love, your mama