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.