Grief

Let me tell you something about grief. It finds you. It tracks you down. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it. I will be going about my day, wading through the motions, and it will hit me like a ton of bricks. Reminding me I am still a mother who lost her child. Reminding me it will never be the same. Reminding me he's not coming back. I have times where I feel like I'm going to be ok. Moments when I look at Bo and Whit and see all I have instead of all I have lost. And then it pulls me under like a strong current: one child is missing.

Bo is still asking questions about Webb, which makes me happy because it means he has not forgotten. Last night, I was laying next to him before he went to sleep, and he said, "Mommy, do you ever get sad?" I said, "Sure I do." He replied, "When you think about Webbie?" and I told him, "Yes, that makes Mommy very sad." He thought for a second and then told me, "Mommy, people get sick. When Webbie is up in the sky with Jesus, he's happy and not sick. When he is down here, he is very sick." I agreed with him, interested in his perspective on things. And then he said, "Mommy, we are so sad Webbie is not here. But Webbie is happy!" You know, out of all the things I have read, all the things people have told me, Bo's words were some of the most reassuring words I have heard. Maybe because it's so obvious. Maybe because the simplicity of a three year old makes it seem like it's ok for babies to be in heaven and not with us. I don't know why. But he was right, Webb is happy even though we are sad. And last night, that didn't seem as strange as it sometimes does.

Survival = Peace, Friends, Grace

(1) We made it through the twins' birthday.  

And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  Philippians 4:7

It was not without tears.  It was not without pain.  It was one of the worst days of my life.  And yet, it was also one of the best.  Whit is two.  He is all boy, all joy, all love, all ours.  And he is here.  

(2)  We have some amazing people in our lives.

Jesus said, "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends."  John 15:13

You, our friends, are truly a gift from God.  I have told several of you before, when you wonder how in the world we have made it this far and make it through impossible days like June 5, look no farther than yourselves.  We have some angels walking with us, among us, for us - holding us up when we feel like we can't go on.  God gives us to our families, but the friends we have made are one of our most magnificent rewards.  I know I would do the same for my friends that they have done for me during this awful trial, but to have that unconditional love poured out from people who are not family, well, it is an amazing feeling.  We are not alone.

(3)  God is still the One carrying us.

My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.  2 Corinthians 12:9

We are still alive.  We are still married.  We smile every day.  We thank God for our blessings.  We feel blessed.  This is not some courageous act.  This is not some coincidence.  Some of you are under the concept that we are the strongest people on Earth.  We are not.  We are filled with the love of God, and He is carrying us through this, as He promises He will.  We have had the worst thing that can happen to a parent happen to us - and yet, we are still here.  This is what it means to be held by the Lord.  When all else fails, we can fall down at the foot of the cross and be comforted.  We are still in that place, and it is safe.  His grace is sufficient.  It is a miracle, and we have experienced it.

We are surviving.  We are grieving.  We are going to be okay.  We have peace, friends and grace - the most wonderful gifts from the Lord.  We have fallen, but He will help us up, again and again.

Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you.  Psalm 9:10  

Traditions

Zac and I have a tradition for our children's birthday.  On that morning, we wait until we hear him stirring and then walk in, video camera in hand, singing Happy Birthday.  We have some priceless footage of these precious moments.  They smile, clap, laugh.  It is awesome.  Tomorrow we will do the same for Whit, but our hearts will not be completely filled with joy as they should be.  Tomorrow, we will have to walk past an empty crib while singing to our perfectly healthy two year old that we are still blessed to have with us.  His other half is not with us, and as we approach his birthday, that fact seems as unbelievable as ever.  We will not see his sweet two year old grin and hear him babble the words to "Happy Birthday."  Instead, we will sing to him and visit him in a place no parent should ever have to go to see their child - especially on his birthday.  We have our strong and weak moments like every grieving person does.  There are times when we are able to put on a happy face and go about our day, either for each other or for the boys.  Tomorrow will no doubt be faced with moments where we do not feel like doing this, but we will, because we have a birthday to celebrate.  And as much as it hurts, we have to move forward and rejoice with our sweet Whit.  Thanks to all of you who have emailed, called, sent flowers, cards, or just said a prayer for us this week.  It has been one of the most dreaded days since Webb died.  We will get through it, like we have each challenging moment.  We will get through by His grace, and by all the prayers of those who love us.  June 5, 2009 will not be the day we thought it would be, but we are still a family, we are still standing, and we are going to make it.  God told me so.

All that I Feel is the Realness I'm Faking

December 26.  Worst. Day. Ever.  May 26.  Not the worst day ever.  Progress?  Today has been 5 months.  5 looooooong, sad, unbearable months.  December to March alone took about 10 years.  We've come so far yet not far enough.  Everything has changed.  We are different.  Next Friday we should be celebrating the twins' second birthday.  I should be planning a party and buying two little "I'm 2!" birthday hats and shaking my head in disbelief that time has gone by so fast.  Instead, we are visiting one child in the cemetery taking the other 2 to the beach where we will try to "get through" what should be a joyous occasion.  I'll only buy one hat and one cake this year.  That's the part that is hard about losing a twin.  A day that means sadness that Webb is not there also means happiness that Whit is.  It will no doubt be a hard and wonderful day the rest of our lives.  I am looking forward to it and dreading it all at once.

Last week, I took the boys to San Antonio to visit my parents.  We went to my dad's baseball games and Sea World and had a wonderful time.  However, I could not help but see the one missing.  No matter how full the days were, the absence of Webb was at the forefront of my mind.  He should be running the bases and hitting off the tee.  He would have LOVED that.  He would have clapped when the dolphins swam by or Shamu jumped out of the water.  There was so much he never got to do.  On the plane ride home, a flight attendant looked at me by myself with the boys and said, "You've got your hands full!"  I smiled a bittersweet smile and agreed.  If she only knew how empty my hands felt.  I am still constantly looking around for the missing child.  I am still automatically trying to take inventory of 3 children, not 2.  These are the things that are ingrained in my brain, the things no amount of reality can change.  The things that make me the most sad.  The things I don't consciously think about.

When I get very upset, I try to remember that Webb only knew love his entire 18 and a half months on Earth.  He went on trips, was cuddled, kissed and hugged every day of his life.  He got to play with great toys and great friends and lived the best life a toddler could live.  Not all children can say the same.  He lived his life knowing nothing about lying, deceit or evil or the other horrible things in this world.  He went from a perfect life here to an even more perfect life in the arms of Jesus.  I know God is in control.  I know when I see Webb again, I will probably think he lived the most charmed life of all my children.  It will all be clear one day, when we see His glory.  So until then, we wait.  We love each other.  And we know while life will never be the way it was before Webb, we can still make the most of our time together.  For him.  Because of him.      

Prayers

Some old family friends are going through a nightmare that is all too close to my heart. Their 18 year old son, who is an identical twin, was just diagnosed with lymphoblastic lymphoma, an aggressive form on non Hodgkins lymphoma. I have no idea about prognosis, but I know they are treating it and have a very strong faith. Please pray for him. His name is Logan Brantley, and his parents are John and Dianne. They are precious, and I know the shock all of them must be feeling right now (I know some of you do, too), and it is a feeling I would not wish on anyone, especially a parent. Please pray that Logan can fight this and for his parents' strength and for his siblings, especially his twin, Hunter. Obviously, this was a huge blow to their whole family. I would also ask you forward this to anyone you know who will pray for them. The power of prayer is so great, and we are so lucky we have a tool like the internet to spread the word quickly. We know it is in His hands, and God will get them thorugh this. I will update you if I know more, and thanks in advance for the prayers for this sweet family. Love, Ashley

Fear

I am scared.  So scared.  Scared of losing someone else.  Scared of feeling this way my whole life.  Afraid to believe something good is going to happen.  Afraid I will forget all the details of Webb's 18 months.  Scared the memories of the hospital will haunt me forever.  Sometimes, I still get that elephant on my chest feeling, and I'm afraid I might be having panic attacks again.  I am so tired of being scared.  I know it is out of my hands.  I trust that God is taking care of us and this will make sense one day.  But that does not ease the fear.  That does not stop the waves of panic when I think about all we have been through and all we have yet to go through.  Bo and Whit are only 3 and 2.    I have the rest of my life to worry about something happening to them.  And so much could happen.  I know I can't live my life like that.  I know it will do me no good to imagine all the horrible things that could happen.  But something about having your worst nightmare come true will do that to you.  I have so much love, so much pain, and so much fear.  It is an unnatural, terrifying mix of strong emotions.  How much more strength can I have?  How much more heartache could I bear?  I don't want to know the answer to that.  If God only gives us as much as we can handle, I have to believe we are full.  But I am still scared.  

One Year Ago...

How things have changed...