Beauty and the Guilt Beast

It is Thursday.  This has been an interesting week.  We have done things as a family again.  We went to the park, we had pizza, I went back to work, we went to church.  None of it was normal yet, none of it didn't hurt, none of it wasn't empty and different, but all of it was good.

We have had some good days, some iffy times, some sadness and grief.  We had pizza.  We ordered the normal amount and we have quite a bit left over.  That is sad on multiple levels, one because Carson wasn't here to eat it and the other because we have left over pizza.

The park was great, except we were minus one.  The kids weren't sad, the parents were sad and happy.  Our children have never been to the park and been the focus of all of our attention because Carson would run all over hell and gone and if you were't watching he would run all the way to Lord knows where.  The other 4 kids were used to having to keep eyes out for each other and be ready to help if we needed it.  That pressure wasn't there at the park.  As Julie took the kids to the playground, I took Niner the dog to the dog park.  He loved it, by the way.  I did not feel guilty leaving Julie with all of them while I watched the dog.  It was strange.  We felt guilty that we didn't feel that pressure, like we were betraying him.  I returned to the park to find Julie fully invested in a set of swings with the 4 kids and it was beautiful.  It was beautiful to see my wife play with Carson and the kids too.  It was just different and still beautiful.

I don't want you to read the wrong thing.  I want you to read that I LOVED the old normal more than anything that I could dream of, but a new normal will have to do.  There is no way around it.  There is no way to put it lightly and there is no good reason to dance around it.  Things are different and they will be.  Things function differently and no matter how much I wish and pray that time could rewind it won't.  There are 4 more kids in this home that need my love, that need my effort, that need my dadding.

It isn't always going to be easy.  Every morning Julie and I lay in bed and I look her in the eyes.  Together we pray and make a commitment to that day to love God, love each other and love the kids and do what is best for them that day.

We got a book from a dear friend of ours that is called "Mommy, Please Don't Cry".  Let me tell you, first off that is a fairly misleading title for at least the first 19 times we read it, probably more.  In our house, we do mucho singing.  We sing, we dance, we music and have a blast.  There is a page that talks about how beautiful his voice is when he sings in heaven. We REALLY like that page. It is a beautiful book that has brought much healing.

Keep God in front of you and your people next to you.

Goodnight.

Little Things

    The last couple days have been different.  All of the family is home, we are now a family unit again.  Unfortunately we are a family unit that is not the same.  We fit at the dining room table, a family that had nobody scooting around the dinner table finishing the plates of everyone who walked away.  When the kids play, it is still too quiet.  When we get ready to leave the house, we have to dig around and passed Carson's shoes.  We only put on 4 coats, his sits in the closet.  There are a million things that are reminders.  Not just what I listed, but countless things that you can't prepare for.  Sometimes we holler at him to get ready with us, It is a constant battle against the empty.

     As we search for a new normal, we will have good days and we will have bad days.  My wife had a rough and emotional day yesterday and I had a rough evening the night before.  Part of the recovery process is being able to support my better half in her rough days and her in mine.  I have always tried to be a rock for her.  I try my best to hold her up, but sometimes I just don't know what to do or say.  When I don't know what to do, I just hold her.  There has been a lot of just holding.  Holding because there are not words, holding because anything else might be wrong.  Holding, talking, supporting my wife are all things that help me cope, help me heal.  I don't know how to be vulnerable, but I know how to cradle my wife when she is at her most vulnerable.  Doing what I know is healing, it takes me steps down my own road and on my own journey.

     Today, my wife and one of her friends were supposed to head to another town about 40 minutes away and go to a meeting. Her friend had a sick kiddo and couldn't go.  Our initial plan was that it wasn't a problem and she would just drive and come back.  I asked if she was ready to be alone with her thoughts for 40 minutes at a time and then we all loaded the car and headed out on the road.  This was healing to me, to know that I was there for her when she needed me the most.  Even if she didn't really know that she did.  Best part of the day? I found crispy M&M's for her!  

     Today's moral, I guess, is that there are good days and bad days and good things and bad things and you might not know which one is which right away.  I think as the days go forward and the Lord guides us, we will be able to have fewer bads and more goods.

I Don't Emote

Tonight is one of those nights.  I am not even sure what I am feeling.  Empty, broken, scared, anxious, tired, exhausted or some mixture of or maybe all of or maybe none. I have no idea.

I have been stable for a few days.  I have been in an OK place.  I have been at a place where I could be strong for everyone else.  That is not where I am tonight, but I don't know where I am.

We met with the investigator this morning and ran through everything one more time.  It was a conversation that I almost enjoyed.  We were with him for probably an hour and only spent about 15 minutes on that morning.  The rest of the time we talked about Carson's life, his birth, and all sorts of things.  It was unexpected and enjoyable.  The best part was the policeman using all of his equipment to break into a car in the parking lot.  His car.  To get his keys back.  It was entertaining.

We ran some more errands, we did some more things. I can't find any triggers for my mood.  I keep reliving my day trying to explain my mood, but I can't.  I realized that I don't need to.  I belong to no one.  My feelings, my moods are exactly that, they are mine.  I can own them.  I want to own them, but it is really hard to do that.  It is really hard for me to just feel.  I don't emote very often.  My emotions are happy, happier and off the charts.

I am used to being the strongest, the pillar where people crumble and I hold them up.  I am not sure how to ask for help, I am not sure what to even ask for.  I have no idea and that, I believe is the hardest part for me.  I am not sure how to be vulnerable because I don't like to be.

There are not many places besides the presence of my God, my Father that I can be truly vulnerable.  Today my prayer has been that I could find permission from Him and myself to feel and for the strength to own my feelings.  To know that the perception of other people doesn't matter. What matters is that I can feel what I feel because it is what I am feeling and I can give myself permission to do that.

A New Normal

Today we began our next mission.  We began to search for a new normal.  We loved our old normal, we were used to our old normal, we would have given everything to keep our old normal, but now it is time for something new.  As we go on this search, we have many things to face.  We have to face how things are changing, not just in a Carson isn't with us kind of way, but in a how do we function as a family without Carson here way.  This means getting in and out of the car, it means bed time, it means meals, church, book shelves.

It means that I feel guilty when I use the words easier, quicker, less difficult and other such things.  Under normal circumstances using these words for a child that you lost would make you feel bad, yes, but I am a parent of a child with a disability too.  A child that never heard a negative word about his or any other disability.  We did not see anything with him as a chore, we didn't see it as too difficult.  We chose not to do some things because of the speed with which he would undo them, like books on the shelf in an orderly fashion.  Carson would have those books back on the floor before you even stood up, so they were in piles on the shelf because it was easier that way.  There are lots of little things like that.  Those little things make me feel the worst, but they are part of everything.  Maybe one day I will feel less guilty for making observations about the practicality of our new normal, our new reality.

We had a service at church for Ash Wednesday tonight, it was the first time that I grabbed my guitar and sang for people since everything happened.  Tonight I didn't sing for people, I sang for my precious Carson.  I sang for him.  We sang How He Loves/Come As Your Are by David Crowder.  If you haven't heard either of these songs, you need to.  You need to so much that here are links to them.  Come As Your Are and here is How He Loves there is much healing in the lyrics of these songs.  It is more than words,  it is an all out prayer.  One more Crowder bit can explain most of how I long for my son right now SMS Shine.

Weeks ago, our worship leader and I chose these two songs.  This last week, this difficult week How He Loves has been the song that is on constant repeat in my head.  I can't get around it, so tonight I sang for my best buddy.

It seems a stark contrast when I think about feelings of anger, regret, despair and sadness that I could be feeling and all I can think is how he loves us.  My God loves me, my God loves you, my God loves Carson.  I cannot get around the feeling of love.

My wife and I have made a commitment to ourselves that we will never let ourselves be perched above God.  He is our number one, above ourselves and above all else.  On our search for a new normal, that is step one.  It would be far to easy to forget that he loves us, so we committed not to.  I don't want a new normal, I need a new normal and I am going to make new normal almost as good as old normal.

So much to comprehend

It is over. The people high, the busyness, the happy and sad faces, its all done.

We received family and friends Sunday night and had a vespers service. I would love to tell you that we had a vespers service because it is what Carson would have wanted,  but I can't. We asked to have a vespers service because I needed it. I needed a time of music and prayer that would heal me. It didn't have to be a sanctuary with all of those people, it could have been me, the pastor and the worship leader. During that service I prayed. I prayed hard. I needed it. It was a unique opportunity for people to pray with me. My brother came to my side during my prayer and we prayed together for the first time in years. We cried together for the first time in a decade. Healing happened in the sanctuary that night. Jesus and Carson were with us.

It was extremely important to me that the flowers from Kylie were next to Carson. I know that she is playing with my baby and that made me feel like the two of them were closer. I always told my church kids that I loved them like my own kids. I feel like that is still true.

After joining the club that nobody wants to be a part of, my heart goes out too all of the members with this terrible common denominator. Losing a child is not easy, it is not fun, and I certainly have hated every minute of it, but I know that I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. Phillippians 4:13

I have the opportunity now to minister to a new group of people and hopefully bring them to see that it isn't God that took them, but rather received.

Worried

I was worried about it. I was worried about everyone showing up. With every new face it was a little more real. I don't want to send out the wrong signal, I greatly appreciate that everyone has come to be with us and help us to mourn our precious baby. I owe all of you thick, heavy gratitude. The presence of people and the show of support from our community has been above and beyond anything that we have known.

I know what happened. I was there for everything. I gave him CPR on the floor until the paramedics arrived. I am aware that I sat waiting in the consultation room while they worked on him. I was there when the woman came in and told us that it could not be going any worse. I was there when they did all they could do. I was there and even though I was there, this is so surreal. I am not even sure that it is happening. Every time I see a new person, hug someone, go to another thing, it gets more real. Well,  tonight it got extra real. A couple hundred people gathered at First UMC to mourn my son. I saw people from Omaha,  lincoln, Denver,  cozad, north platte, Kansas and probably a million more, all there to support us in a time of crisis. I loved seeing that many people, but it kept getting more and more real. Finally, Julie and I walked down the aisle where my baby's urn waited for us. It's real.

As I looked at the flowers all around I noticed one in particular that was on the main table behind Carson's urn. They have a glass cross and they are beautiful. They came from the Remmeried family. This is a family who is quite dear to my heart. Their daughter was in a car accident and I was with them through much of the process.  The people that placed the flowers know nothing of this. To them it just looked the best. To me it was a sign that my baby is not alone, my baby is in great hands and my baby is happy.

I was worried. I was worried about the emotions I would have when we met people who had just shown up.  The more people, the more real everything became.  After I saw those flowers, I knew that if God took care of something little like that he was caring for me perfectly. I find peace in that. I'm not worried.

The Difference

We woke up this morning. Nothing was different. We felt awful. We woke up to tears of realization when there were still 4 kids and not 5 kids in their beds. Everything still hurt. We couldn't get away from the fact that yesterday our 4-year old had suddenly passed away.  It was our first time waking up without him.

We spent time with family and met at the funeral home to make arrangements. The decisions were not difficult in the sense that we couldn't agree, but difficult to stomach having to make them. Our families were wonderful and even if they didn't like our choices they said nothing and supported us. Through all of that, we were reminded that we didn't feel different. We were reminded that the situation wasn't different.

Carson will be cremated. That was our choice. Tonight we had a personal family viewing. Julie and I went first and after some time with Carson, we invited his big brother in to say goodbye and then everyone else. The whole time, nothing was different. I was broken. I was tattered. I was shrinking, soon to be shut out by grief. As everyone said their peace, Julie and I returned to the side of our son and prayed with him one last time. Something was different.

After everyone had left Julie asked if she could hold him one more time. As I saw the perfect mother and child, something was different.  I also held him and talked to him and told him what I needed him to know. At one point his face looked to smile back at me. Something changed, something was different.

Something indeed was different. There isn't a way to describe the peace and comfort that I felt holding him one more time. We prayed, cried, talked and asked him for forgiveness. There was nothing that we could have done differently,  but we still apologized and asked for forgiveness.

Things are different. God blessed me with 4 years that have taught me more than 4 years at the most expensive universities could have. The patience, the hope, the love, and the presence. If nothing else, be present for your kids, you never know when they will need to be present for you. They can only be what you model for them. Tonight, Carson was present for me. Tonight, the Lord was present for me and right now that makes all the difference.