Changing Seasons

Fall has always been my favorite season; vibrant jewel tones, cool crisp mornings, and indescribably delicious smells that fill the air. I have often put up fun fall décor on Labor Day Weekend just so I can enjoy it for the longest time possible. I so loved the anticipation of Halloween with my boys…all of them! I would think... what would they want to dress up like this year? How will the weather be for Trick or Treating?  What candy should I get for other tricksters?  The thoughts seemed endless and the memories are priceless.

Three years ago, fall changed for our family. In two days from now, September 14^th, we will observe three years since we lost Dillon’s dad to a sudden death; a complication from surgery that caused a stroke and resulted in his going “home”. We are grateful he did not suffer, but he is missed terribly and life without him has been life altering and forever changed his son. Because of the foundation Rich and I built for Dillon in his first ten and a half years of life, Dillon is slowly overcoming adversity and thriving as a teenager finishing his last year of middle school.

Two years ago, things again were changing for us. I began September with some unexplainable health situations. They didn’t seem to be life altering, but they did make my days uncomfortable for a while. I was able to continue with work as usual, traveling for my job, and it seemed manageable even though I was under a doctor’s care and undergoing some tests. One day in mid-October as I was about four hours from home I had one of those dreaded phone calls and I could literally feel my knees shake. The doctor called to say they had found a “mass” in one of my kidney’s that she felt was causing the excruciating pain I had been enduring for two months.  A “mass”? They were requesting I come back to Portland immediately for a scan to detect exactly what the mass was and she would call me back when that appointment was set up. Are you kidding me?! How does one continue working under those circumstances? How do I not fall apart, here, in front of anyone and everyone? How do I stay composed? Well, I didn’t, not really. I held it together as best as I could but inside I was falling apart. How could this be? What about Dillon? He just lost his dad last year? A few hours later as I sat in my hotel room, I called BJ. Not because I thought he would know what to say, but because I knew my boys should know and in some weird way I thought he would distract my thoughts. He did. We talked a while about many things, but when he said, “Mom, I am sure everything is going to be ok” and “you should pray”, I did find comfort. I then called Bryan and he too said the comforting things I needed and even though I “heard” silence on the other end of the phone I wasn’t sure if it was a distraction from his herd of kids or if he was feeling a bit like me…as in What The Heck!?

So, what does one do when they get that kind of phone call and the thoughts are ravishing through their head like it is race day at the raceway!? Well, for this mom I had to think of my youngest child and make sure that if the unthinkable happened he was taken care of. That is the moment I put his future on paper and knew it would take more than a life insurance policy to take care of him; it would take the love and nurturing of people to care for him.

First things first, two days later I was headed back to Portland to have “the test”. Thankfully, there was NOT a “mass” in my kidney; there were several cysts which are completely normal. However, the test did find a large (golf ball large) gallstone and they believed that was causing the pain. After two months of insurance red tape and an ambulance ride to ER, they removed the gallbladder, with a stone they discovered to be the size of a medium chicken egg! As I was preparing for surgery and knowing that this was fairly routine, I was nonetheless “going under the knife” which once again triggered those “if something happens” thoughts. I spent time preparing my will, putting my Advance Directive in place so that my boys would NOT have to make decisions I felt they should not be burdened with, and I wrote each of them a letter. Mind you, I am here and they never received those letters. But if something were to happen they would have my last words to them. They would know how much I love them, how much being their mom has meant to me, and what a wonderful future I know they would have. Those letters remain in my safe, they are updated on occasion, and they are an important part of me to them. All the letters except BJ’s; he never got to read how much I loved him, how incredible being his mom was, and my laid out plans for my Life’s Celebration. Yes, he was the oldest and during that kind of turmoil I planned my Celebration of Life for him not knowing ten months later I would be planning his Celebration of Life.

Which brings us to the fall of 2016; the third fall of turmoil for me. The school year had a rocky start for Dillon; he was now in the seventh grade, it was nearly two years since losing his daddy, and he was filling up with grief. It is normal for kids to experience grief about 18-24 months after their loss. After about six weeks of an emotional twelve year old, on October 20^th, we sat on the edge of my bed as he was unable to get dressed for school. He was in the middle of a grief meltdown and all I could do was comfort him, cry with him, talk about his dad, and share how much we both missed him and why. He was exhausted. He slept and I worked. He woke feeling much better on Friday, October 21^st, and he was off to school. It seemed like a beautiful fall morning and we had just made great progress in his journey of grief. I was feeling grateful and thankful that he was releasing some of these bottled up feelings. All those great feelings I had come to a crashing halt at 10:30 a.m. when my son had to tell me his big brother was “in a fatal car accident last night and is no longer with us.” Yes, I still hear those words as if it was yesterday, but it’s been nearly eleven months. I hear Bryan’s voice, word for word, as he told me BJ was gone, and I shook to the core, in disbelief. There is something that changes inside of you the moment you hear those words and you are changed forever.

This fall, as I prepare for a very busy season of work, I also prepare my mind and my heart for the year anniversary of losing my oldest baby boy. This weekend, my birthday weekend, it will be a year since I have seen him, hugged him, shared life’s stories with him, and watched him drive away from my home for the last time…in a hurry for the next adventure in his life. It hasn’t gotten easier. I am thankful for a lot of distractions that occupy my thoughts and keep my mind busy. It still seems like it was yesterday when I sat here in the living room with him, Teri, Cheyenne, and Dillon and he was sharing stories about recent camping trips. And yet, it seems like a million years ago since I saw his smile, felt his hug, and heard his laugh.

I am stronger than I knew, I have prayed deeper than before, and I keep my faith with God because I know He will carry me through as I walk through this journey of grief. As for this fall season; I have yet to get out my décor, but I am feeling the air of cooler mornings, anticipating watching the leaves turn, and will soon enjoy some of the smells that are fall; pumpkin spice, nutmeg, squash, and homemade cookies. And on the really tough days, I will “Fall on my knees” and ask for peace, comfort, and a season without personal tragedy.

Dillon inherited his dad's chair.