Grief Will Change You

I have changed.  Things are different.  I don't look the same.  I don't act the same.  I don't feel the same.  My clothes fit different.  I've lost weight.  I don't talk the same.  I don't have the same drive.

Look what this grief is doing to me.

Carson's life was a gift.  It was a gift that I shall not take for granted.  In four short years, I learned about patience, love, happiness, patience, family, fatherhood and patience than I had in any amount of years prior.  Kids are only kids for a while, then they become teenagers and they only do that once (thank heavens) and before you know it, they are adults.  It's funny to me how I spent so many years being in the same place as my family and not really being with them.  Sounds strange, but I am willing to bet that you know the feeling.  I was in the same place, I occupied the same area and breathed the same air, but I wasn't totally present.  These were years that I will never get back. I held being at work in a higher, much higher priority than being present for my family.  I have learned.

We moved to North Platte and I was already working on improving the being present situation.  I practiced a deal where I would put my phone down in funny places on purpose so that I would forget where it was.  Out of sight, out of mind, right?  Since I was at a new place of employment, I set clear boundaries of home time and work time.  I have tried very hard not to mix the two and I believe it has worked for the most part.  These have all been baby steps.  Baby steps to get my family to a place where not only did they know me, but I got to know them.  I got to be present for them and be a real father.  Making that change was and still is my priority.

Since Carson's passing, I have started a new project, Team Crusher.  Getting ready to run an Ironman Triathlon in August of 2016.  The race is the exciting part, but not the real part.  The race is the culmination.  It will be a long day of grueling activity, sure.  Outsiders will see it as the accomplishment, but the race is gravy.  I am not waiting until race day to remember the kids on Team Crusher.  They deserve more than that.  Since my commitment to the race a few months ago, I have basically been training 2 sessions a day 6 days a week.  This is all time that I remember my kids.  This is all time that I pray for our families.  The time and work that is put into a race is the real deal.  People don't simply show up on race day ready to go.  Since October 25, I have trained for 105 hours, I have swam 31,360 yards, ridden my bike 606 miles and run 150 miles.  This might be small potatoes to some athletes out there, but that is 105 hours that the Team Crusher kids have carried my fat butt.

In April of 2015, I was a grieving couch potato.  I have changed.  Things are different.  I don't look the same.  I don't act the same.  I don't feel the same.  My clothes fit different.  I've lost weight.  I don't talk the same.  I don't have the same drive.

Loss does not have to be your end.  Grief does not have to win.  Find something that you can live for and do it.  Do something in memory of your loved one.

www.teamcrusher.com
www.facebook.com/teamcarsoncrusher