No Idea

Got a sweet message from a friend tonight. She is a nurse at the hospital where Jason died. Her message basically told me that the other day she was sitting with a cardiologist and another guy that does echo cardiograms. Both of the guys started talking about Jason. They knew his name and knew his story even though neither had met him or worked on him that day. She said they talked very highly of him. These men didn't realize that Kelli knew him. She was able to tell them a little about him- that he had 2 amazing boys and a wife that miss him. They were so touched by his story and by all the things the surgeon and other doctors shared with them. They heard he was very kind and a real "stand up" guy. The cardiologist emphasized that the heart surgeon did absolutely everything he could do for him that day. She wanted me to hear this from another doctor's point of view.

My first thought was "wow." I was so thankful that she shared this information with me. It's just another little gift that I can give my boys one day. One piece of the puzzle that depicts how great he was. In all honesty, this actually didn't surprise me. He really was that great of a man.

We had no idea that day that others would watch how we handled this situation.

We had no idea that Jason's bravery would influence others around him.

We had no idea that lives would change.

I have to wonder if doctors watched us pray together. Did they notice him stroke my face and hold my hand as he told me he loved me and that we would be okay? Was Jason's ability to stay brave and calm during a horrific situation like this something rare and something foreign to them? Were they touched by his amazing smile that he gave every person that prepped him for surgery, even though he was in pain the entire time? I have to believe yes.

Doctors and staff were moved that day. They were inspired and influenced by a wonderful husband and father that lived 40 short years on this Earth. Just the way he carried himself in that emergency room gave those men and women a small glance at the great person he was. It's obvious that Jason made a huge impression that day ......or they would not be talking about him 4 months later. We had no idea that medical staff would be in awe over a waiting room that was often busting at the seams.....full of people huddled together in prayer.

This touches my heart and fills me up inside to know that people have not forgotten. I'm so proud that I was his wife and so thankful that I was by his side, during the last hours of his life.

Going from "we" to "me"

Over the last few weeks, I've noticed myself saying "we" instead of "me" while having conversations with people. Obviously this is just automatic for me since I've been a part of "we"

for so many years now. I'm not sure exactly what made me even notice it but once I did, it started to bother me. I would hear myself say "we" when discussing something about my life or my house. Some times I would quickly correct myself and say "me" instead. So why does this bother me?

"We" is all I've known since I was 23 years old. I've been a part of a team for almost 13 years. I've jointly made decisions and taken someone elses opinion or needs into account with every decision I've made. Being a part of "we" brings security because you know that someone always has your back. "Me" is a very lonely place to be. For me anyways.

Some people thrive on freedom and independence. They love being single and making sole decisions for themselves. Not me. I love knowing I have someone to bounce ideas off of and love having a partner in every step of life. God wired me to be a "we" and I really miss it.

These boys make me so incredibly proud. I wish more than anything that I could still say "we are so proud of our boys." .........because we were and I still am.

It's Just "stuff"

I'm sure you've heard the phrase, "you can't take it with you when you're gone."

How true is that?

Throughout our entire married life, Jason and I maintained a pretty simple life. We have a modest home, we drive modest cars, we live within our means. I can't tell you how thankful I am for that at this very moment. It makes going on without him that much easier. We have known people over the years that have done whatever it takes to keep up with others. They have gone into debt to have the latest and greatest things. They have worked themselves ragged in order to afford the best of the best. Not us. We did whatever we needed to do so that I could stay home to raise our boys and to live a simple life. We rarely had the desire to want more. Looking back, I wonder if God was whispering to us, "it's just stuff."

Quite honestly, Jason didn't leave much behind. Of course he had clothes and some personal belongings from growing up but for the most part........ he didn't really leave much. There are no big "toys" for me to mess with (boats, etc....) and there is no huge house for me to maintain without him. Even the things that are left behind are simple and unimportant now. He sure isn't missing them.

I'm very thankful that we were on the same page financially. I'm thankful that he chose family over climbing the big corporate ladder. I'm thankful that we realized that time together was way more important than "things." Now that I've experienced this loss, it puts even more of an emphasis on this very phrase, "you can't take it with you when you're gone." In the end, it's something we all know to be true but to actually live it is another thing. So, so thankful that we did.

Everyday Comfort

I woke up this morning so very thankful for this day. Thankful that I don't have work or have any important meetings or errands to run. Today is a day for me to just be. I manage to fill my weekly schedule up with preschool, lunch with friends, errands to run........and very little time during the day to just sit and reflect. I do get this time at night, when the boys are in bed, but I'm usually so tired at that point that very little self reflection or quiet time takes place. So, this morning I decided that I would spend some time reading.

I looked through my nightstand and sifted through some books that are waiting to be read. I came across a book called Everyday Comfort by Randy Becton. I have no idea who gave me this book.......I was given/sent so many books on grief right after Jason died and that time was such a blur for me. I opened it and started reading the preface and there were lots of things that stood out to me. I'll share some here:

....Life does go on. Death is not reversible. People who have lost loved ones experience the wrenching pain between knowing one reality but desperately craving another reality. To know what is real does not mean to like it or even to be prepared at this moment to accept it.

....Your grief is a bridge between your loss (the now) and the direction in which you grow (the future)

....God will help you do the work of grieving and he will help you know when to stop. This will occur in His good time. The permanent room in your heart for this sweet sadness will be filled appropriately. Do not worry; you will never forget. When the time comes- and no one knows this timetable- you will be given strength to resume the gift of life but will feel no betrayal or disservice to the memory of your dear loved one.

....You will grow sad during events when you would normally be side by side. You will always have occasions when you think, "My spouse would have loved this." This sadness is natural, normal, and healthy. You may cry whenever you want to. Don't let anyone, even a friend, make you feel guilty. You must not concern yourself with pleasing others. Do what you need to do, not what anyone, no matter how close, expects you to do.

....Remember, the one you lost wants you to love, laugh, serve, cry, and fully participate in life. That person who trusted you is present in your memory and trusts you still. Your happiness was his goal. Remember.

....Your loved one wants you to live fully right now, burdened by no regrets about his death. Remember, he loved you, so honor him by living with meaning, not weighted down in regrets.

I'm so thankful for these words today. They are such a comfort during this period of loss and grieving. I need these constant reminders that life does still go on and that there is nothing I can do to change where I'm at. I can only focus on moving forward in a healthy and positive way. I continue to tell myself that Jason would not want or expect me to be consumed with sadness or guilt. I need to give myself permission to let these things go.......

First day of school- Aug 2011

For the boys

I've said it before but I'll say it again: such a huge part of my grief and sadness is for my boys. Of course, there are personal bouts of loss and sadness for myself but with that also comes the peace and understanding of heaven. That is a concept my boys can't fully wrap their minds around.......therefore, they are left without the full peace that I have. I feel confident they will understand that one day when they are older. For now, I find myself in the mix of all the questions and it seems that my answers are inadequate. They just want their dad.

I hate that this is their story. I hate that for the rest of their lives they will tell people that their dad died when they were 5 and 8. I hate to think of all the things they missed out on and the amazing things Jason planned to teach them and share with them. I hate that no one will ever love them like he did.

In the past, Jason has participated in the Watchdog program at school. Hudson was always so excited and proud when his daddy did this for the day. I remember last year, Jason explained to Cooper that once he started kindergarten he would get a chance to see him do this since the boys would be at the same school. Unfortunately, he never got the chance. The Watchdog program started up for the year right around the time Jason died. The boys came home pretty upset that dads were starting to spend the day at school and they were very sad that they no longer had a dad to do it. Thankfully, they have a Papa that has agreed to fill in next week. I know they will be excited to have him there.........but still it's sad that it's forever different. It hurts my heart to see their pain and sadness in situations like this.

I came across this patch yesterday while looking through Jason's bathroom drawer. I immediately started crying because this was the Cub Scouts patch for Hudson's pack last year. Just another reminder of something the boys will not get to experience with him.

It makes me so sad to think about the fact that the boys will have limited memories of him. Will they remember the fun things we did together as a family? Will they recall hearing the words, "I love you" come from his mouth? Will they even comprehend how much joy they brought to their daddy's life? I will most likely spend my lifetime making sure they don't forget.

Parenting Alone

I would probably have to say that parenting alone is one of the biggest adjustments and challenges I'm facing right now. Jason and I were a great team. We were completely on the same page when it came to parenting and discipline. He had the ability to come home from work and assess the situation. Most times, the boys and I were great. Other times, I had had it up to here and was at my breaking point with them (If you have young kids then I know you get that!) He was really good at recognizing my frustration or lack of patience some days. He would look at me and say something sweet like, "why don't you go take a bath" or "hey, let me take over."

I really miss that.

I no longer have a partner in parenting. And it's hard. While I often say that death and divorce from a spouse are similar, the one main difference is that most times the parenting duties are shared when a divorce takes place. Most (not all) divorced couples work together to guide their children. They even share having weekends with the kids.......which gives each parent a little "break" from their parenting duties. There are no breaks over here. I find myself tired and overwhelmed from having to do it all.

While my family lives close and is very helpful, the reality is: it's not their job to raise my boys. It's mine. I'm blessed that I have a family I can call and ask for help if I need to go somewhere or plan an evening out with friends. Some people don't even have that so I do know I'm blessed. The downfall is that I don't want to abuse that help so I don't ask that often.

I guess today I'm missing that second set of hands. That deep strong voice that can walk into the room and immediately demand respect and attention. I miss the daddy that loves his boys more than anything else. I miss the patient soul that steps in when I'm at my limit. The sweet man that reads a bedtime story, says a prayer, and lays in bed and asks the boys about their day.

I miss all of it.

Guilt

A few weeks after Jason died, I was laying in my bed with my mom. Something happened and we started laughing. Not just any kind of laugh....but the laugh that causes you to hold your stomach and a big goofy sound comes from your mouth. I didn't even think about it until my mom looked at me and said "wow, it's so great to hear you laugh again." I sort of froze for a minute and realized that I immediately felt guilty for it. "I shouldn't be laughing", I thought to myself. My world has just been turned upside down. Why was I laughing?

I've had numerous situations like that happen over the last three and a half months. I feel like I straddle the fence when it comes to grieving and moving forward. What is the right amount of time for these kinds of things? Unfortunately, there are no rule books to follow. Even when you ask others that have experienced a loss.....you realize that there are still differences in answers. I'm slowly learning that my answer comes from prayer and what I feel God puts on my heart. I do know that in the end, I must make decisions based on what is best for us and that I can't and won't ever make every single person happy.

I'll be honest. I am often filled with guilt. Guilt for laughing. Guilt for clearing the closet out too soon. Guilt for not wearing my ring. Guilt for feeling that maybe I didn't do enough for Jason while he was still living. Guilt for hoping and wanting love again some day. Guilt for being jealous that he's in heaven and I'm left behind. I know this comes from Satan and not God. He doesn't want or expect feelings of guilt because I did nothing wrong. When I hear those words.....it makes complete sense. However, at times I begin to doubt myself and the guilt creeps its way in.

I can't think of an absolute explanation for this other than I'm a pleaser. I want people to be happy and proud of me. I don't like to disappoint. I know that many decisions I make have an impact on others around me. How I handle or respond to certain situations will often effect others. It's a lot of pressure. And I hate it.

I've tried my best to explain the range of emotions that I feel but I still believe that one can't understand to the fullest unless you have been here. It's weird. This is a whole new world for me. I am not used to feeling guilty. Or jealous. Or insecure. Lately, I have bounced back and forth between all of these and I'm working my way through them.

One thing I do know is that God and Jason and the people that love me do not want me to feel this way. I don't either. Like everything else, it's a process. One step at a time.......

A Softened Heart

I was talking with a friend at preschool yesterday and she mentioned reading my blog and she made a comment like "I'm amazed at your strength. I don't think I'd be that strong and positive if that happened to me." My comment back to her was something like "I thought and said the same exact thing before this happened." You have no idea how you will react to a situation like this until you are put there.

I want to first say that this blog is not intended to inspire. The main goal of this blog is for me to have an outlet. A place to write my thoughts in a safe way. Second, I plan to possibly print the posts about Jason's death so that the boys will one day be able to read about the journey and see how I felt and why I did the things I did. If I inspire someone along the way, then that's great. But I certainly don't set out each week to write some fancy post to serve that purpose. I try to keep it real here and that often includes posts that are not so pretty and include zero inspiration.

Back to the "being strong and positive" comment. That got me to thinking about how my heart has really softened the last few months. When someone experiences a traumatic event, they really do have two choices about how they want to handle that situation. It's tempting to allow our hearts to harden towards God because we are disappointed. We are hurt. We feel alone. We ask "why" and realize we may live an entire lifetime without ever getting the answer.

I knew from the very beginning that I never wanted to be mad or bitter that Jason died. While I still have my "I don't understand- this doesn't make sense- this isn't fair" moments, I can honestly say that God did something to me that day. He softened me. In my most vulnerable moments, he pricked my heart and gave me supernatural peace and strength to walk this road.

During this time of softening, I'm listening to God's whispers to me. I'm beginning to feel a tug in my heart in certain areas and I'm waiting for Him to open doors so that I know the direction I need to go. I'm learning to slow down and listen.....to be more aware of what God is trying to tell me. I'm seeking a purpose for my life.

"Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank Him for all he had done. If you do this, you will experience God's peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:6-7

What to do......How to help?

I've had several people over the last few days ask me what they can do and how they can help someone that has lost a spouse. While I can certainly share what has helped me I know that what works for one doesn't always work for another. Here are some things I've learned the last 3 months.

• Avoid cliches. Seriously. Don't say "it all happens for a reason" or "it was God's plan" or "time heals all wounds." I've learned that by saying those things....it's mostly for the benefit of the one saying them. Silence is uncomfortable. People want to fix. Saying something is less awkward than saying nothing and really dumb things tend to roll out of peoples' mouths. Just stick with "I'm sorry" or "I'm praying for you."


• Continue to talk about the person that died. I've found that it's more uncomfortable when I can tell people are avoiding the subject of Jason. Even though he's gone, he was a part of my life for a long time and I never want that forgotten. I feel peace when people tell stories or talk about him in a loving way. It's more hurtful to wonder if people are forgetting him then to just include him in conversation at times.


• Touch base from time to time. It's expected that people reach out right after the death of a spouse. I remember feeling overwhelmed every day when I'd get on Facebook or even email because I'd have literally hundreds of messages from people. As time goes on, that number begins to drop significantly (which is understandable) but I will say that it means so much and is actually remembered now (so much is a blur in the beginning) when people send me a message telling me they are still thinking and praying for us. I was once told to expect sadness when you realize people are going about their lives and you feel stuck in a time warp. Obviously, life does go on for all of us but taking the time to send a quick text or message several months after the death is much appreciated. I'm so blessed with friends that still (and will continue to do so) for months and even years to come.


• Probably the biggest lesson I've learned in all of this is to avoid the phrase "please let me know if you need anything." I'm guilty. We've all said it. This blanket statement though actually put stress and pressure on me instead of making me feel good. When you say this, it forces the grieving person to have to contact YOU and ASK for something. If you know me at all then you know this is something I struggle with. I would rather do it myself or do without then to ask for help sometimes. I can't even tell you what a gift it has been to have a few key people in my life that have called me and said "hey, I know your grass needs cut so I'm sending my guys over to cut it for you. They will be there at noon." Another friend- "hey, I'm setting up a meal calendar so that you don't have to worry about meals. Any specific requests before I set that up?" Another friend calls from time to time and says "please tell me your needs at this very moment"......and he waits on the phone until I tell him something. These are the amazing people that have taught me and shown me that if you see a need, then you just go and do it. You don't ask and you don't expect them to come to you with a request. I will never again use this blanket statement with someone. Even though we all know the intention is sincere, it just usually ends up being lip service.


• Like mentioned above, the meals provided for my family have been such a lifesaver. I seriously LOVE to cook. However, since Jason died I have had little desire to do it. I am starting to come around a little more but for sure the first few months it was overwhelming for me to think about planning out a weekly menu. I have had meals provided for our family 4 nights a week (unless we have something come up that day and I have to cancel) and I usually use gift cards (also super helpful) in between on nights no one is planning to bring something. This has taken so much pressure off of me and I'm forever grateful for the precious souls that have stepped up and provided for our family.


• Prayer. Kind of sounds obvious but it's so huge. People will often message me and say things like "I don't know what else to do to help so I just pray." That is perfect. Because there are days (especially in the beginning) when you don't have the words to pray and knowing that others are doing it on your behalf is amazing.


• Invite the person out.....for lunch or coffee.........and keep asking until they say yes. I had so many offers in the beginning to meet up for lunch or coffee and honestly I couldn't do it. Some days it was a miracle that my teeth were brushed and contacts were in my eyes. Through this process, I've had to learn to say no at times. And that's okay. But I do remember telling my friends, "please don't give up on me." And they didn't. I have wonderful friends that didn't take it personally that they invited me out 4-5 times and every time they were given an excuse or a simple "not today." They gave me space but also stayed on me and eventually I started getting out. I've explained it like this: getting out socially for me has been somewhat like going to the gym: you hate the getting there part but once you are there, you are glad you are. I never regretted a single lunch or coffee with a friend once I got myself there.

Again, these might not be helpful for everyone but they are the first things that come to mind when I think about the support system that has taken care of me the last few months. The Lord has and continues to bless me with amazing people that know just what I need at exactly the right time.

Heartbroken

I got word yesterday that a sweet friend from my preschool.....who also happens to teach in the 3's hall with me.....lost her husband yesterday. It was unexpected. I got an email that he had been taken to the hospital and that doctors were working on him. It didn't look good. I can't even describe how sick and how uneasy I felt. I kept coming into the study to see if a new update had been sent out. Nothing. Lots of waiting. I could imagine her sitting inside the same waiting room that I sat in a little over 3 months ago. Wondering and praying about the outcome of her life. We were asked to not come to the hospital at that time. I finally got word that he didn't make it. My boys were in the middle of dinner but I so desperately wanted to get into my car and drive there. I felt such a need to just hug her neck and tell her how sorry I was and that even though she can't imagine it, she will keep breathing. Even though she won't want to.

It was around 5:00 and I really didn't want to bother my friends....they have kids and were probably also juggling dinner and homework. I sent texts and left messages but wasn't able to find anyone. Finally my sweet friend and co teacher from preschool offered to come and stay with the boys so that I could make a quick trip to the hospital. She got to my house and I sent a simple text to my director (who was at the hospital with her) to make sure everyone was still there. She called me back and told me that everyone was heading home. She has 2 daughters that still didn't know and her only thought was to get home to them before they heard from someone else. My stomach immediately turned into a knot as I recalled the drive home from the hospital on Oct. 5. Even though it was such a blur, I do remember rehearsing in my head and wondering how in the world I would even begin to have that conversation with my boys. I literally ached for her. I stayed home and just continued to pray for her the rest of the night. I was disappointed that I didn't make it in time to see her.

Last night, I was laying in bed and thinking about her and her first night in her bed alone. Who knows, maybe she wasn't alone but she was without him. Either way, she was alone. I've mentioned that I've had situations where I've been surrounded by people but still felt so incredibly alone. I'm sure she felt that too. My heart started racing as I thought back to all the fears, the sadness, the overwhelming realization that everything was now on me. I hated this for her. I always will.

After running errands with my mom today, I was driving in and out of construction and trying to make my way back to the boys school in order to pick them up. I had to cut through the hospital parking lot in order to get onto the side road and up onto the street leading towards home. It was the first time my car had driven into or out of that parking lot since Oct. 5. I immediately started bawling. I was flooded with those emotions from that day and I lost it. I realized that God protected me last night and made it impossible for me to go to the hospital. Even though my heart wanted to go and show support, He knew that I couldn't handle that yet. I'm still too raw.

I really hate that she and I now have this bond and have the loss of a spouse in common. I can't help but believe that God placed me at this preschool this year for this very reason. Not to say that I'll in any way be a mentor for her- she will probably end up being a great source of comfort for me- but I do know how helpful it's been for me to see others that are a few steps ahead of me on this journey. I have seen others continue to live and breathe and smile despite the not so great situation they find themselves in. I hope in some small way I can be that person for her.

Please pray for this sweet family as they navigate their way around these first few days and weeks. Like me, she will look back at this time and be amazed that she has survived. Some days you really don't think you will. Because of God, we manage to do just that.

"Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." Christopher Robin to Pooh

13 weeks

Tomorrow marks 13 weeks. I suppose I should start counting by the 5th of every month but by doing so, I jip myself several days. If I count by the 5th of the month, then Jan 5th would show that it's only been 3 months instead of 13 weeks and one day. Sounds kind of trivial but at this point, 8 extra days is a lot of time. Counting by weeks allows me to measure exactly the amount of time I've survived. And each day matters. Might sound dumb but it's made perfect sense to me.

I cleaned out the pantry this afternoon. While going through and sorting things out, I obviously came across several things in there that were just for Jason. The can of tuna fish. The flavored water packets. Iced tea bags. These are all things that I don't use and were there because they were his. I sometimes struggle with what to do with these kinds of things. Leave them there or toss them out? Is it more comforting to keep them as is or try to start fresh? Really depends on the day for me.

This weekend I replaced some pictures in the living room. Before Christmas, my friend took some pictures for us and I had several made for the house. I have 3 large frames in my living room that each hold a 12X12 picture. For the past few years, those frames have held family photos. A picture of the boys. A picture of Jason and me. A shot of our family of 4. I contemplated having new pictures taken this summer. I could kick myself for not making that a priority. Why did I allow myself to put it off? Why did I justify that we'd get new ones taken just as soon as these last 10 pounds were shed? Oh, how I wish we had taken the time to do that. I took down each frame, removed the picture, cleaned the glass, and hung the new pictures inside. I like the way they look but am trying to get used to my "new" family dynamic- A family of 3. What a difference 13 Wednesdays can make.

Lately I've been struggling with several things- a few that I'll wait and mention later down the road. One that has recently started is questioning whether I did enough while Jason was here. Did I love him enough? Did I do enough for him? Did he die knowing how proud I was of him? I sure hope so on all those. Do I doubt that or is Satan just messing with me? It's been so weird to see all the emotions, doubts and fears that have come from this death. In many ways the old Jennifer died that day too.

Grief is much like a yo-yo. One day you are on the upswing and the next day you are down. I'm fortunate that my days of down are limited but they are still there. Probably always will be to some degree.



www.paigepearsonphotography.com is my friend that took our pictures. She's really talented and if you live in the area, I'd encourage you to use her.