Widow Woes...

More than 6 years ago my life forever changed. I never thought I'd have the life I have today. As time passes, it seems the world around me has forgotten. In some ways, I have forgotten.

Let me be clear, I'll never "forget" losing my husband. There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not reminded of it. I look into my daughters' eyes and think of all the things Garrett is missing. I have heard them laugh and wish he could hear them. Every once in a while, I'll think back to something and try to remember the details only he would know. Holidays are hard...no matter which holiday it is.

This past week, my sweet friend Angelina lost her sister. I have spent many hours with her or on the phone with her and my grief comes creeping back. I have lost 7 family members in the past 6 years. I have spent a lot of time grieving. I have cried my share of tears and have come to my friends over and over with tears and grief and confusion.

Somehow in the midst of grief with Angelina this week, I have been reminded of the blessings. As sad as it is, I have felt blessed to be on the other side this time. Because of the grief I have journeyed through these past few years, I have been able to just be there for her. I have listened to her process the mixed emotions and express her frustrations. I have heard her share about the blessings her family and friends have poured out on her this week. I have remembered but I'm not raw anymore. I have cried for her and her family. I have remembered my losses and cried...but then, sleep comes at night. I am not crying myself to sleep and opening my eyes to tears in the morning. I have just enough distance to be there for Angelina but not too much distance that I have forgotten what I needed during my losses and tried to be those things for her.

Tomorrow, we will celebrate Angelina's sister, Lani's life. I didn't know Lani but through Angelina and yet I miss her. I grieve for Angelina's loss and the things Lani will miss. I grieve as I hear my friend trying to "muddle" her way through this. I listen to her process the mixture of all of it coming at her at once. I laughed at her "bad" jokes and tell a few of my own. I reminded her of things she once told me almost surprised when she says she doesn't remember saying them (as grief seems to take away our ability to remember anything but grief). She was a rock for me through one of the darkest times in my life and her words pierced through it. 

She expressed some overwhelm and feeling like she was asking for too much. I reminded her that she once told me she was a grown woman with boundaries to say "no" if she needed and wouldn't offer something she couldn't give. I am doing just what she has done for me. There are no tallies in friendship but in some ways we are the type of friend that our friends are to us. I could never "pay" her back for all she has done but feel in no way stressed, overwhelmed or overextended to give back to her now.

It's truly amazing how God heals our hearts so we can give back. I hate that my friend is hurting but love that I understand this hurt. I know what God has called me to do in life and this is a moment I get to walk in that calling. It isn't fun. It isn't glamourous. It is what it is. 

I have felt as though I was called to those who grieve long before I lost anyone really close to me, before I lost Garrett, my grandpa, my mom, my uncle and all my grandmas. I struggled with loss knowing I was called to the grieving. I felt it would have purpose but still didn't want it. For me, there is no greater calling to which God could have called me. I am the one who cries with those who are crying. 

I am a widow. Yes, I'm remarried and love my life, my husband, my step kids and all the ups and downs of a blended family. At the end of the day, I am still a woman whose husband died. I was widowed. Today I have cried tears for all the people who are gone. Today I have remembered them all as if it was yesterday. Today I have allowed my heart to grieve as I prepare my heart to love on my friend tomorrow while she grieves. 

No one knows how hard this will be or what will be hard. No one know what one little things will set off tears or anger or the 9,000 other emotions that come during grief. What I know is I'm here. That's all I have to offer. 

Thank you all who have walked with me through my grief these past years. You are all part of making me the woman that stands strong today. Words cannot express how grateful I am for the words of encouragement, the meals, the girls nights and the babysitting that got me through the hardest moments. Today I stand strong, still grieving at times, but strong. I stand here to love on those as they grieve. I am walking in this with confidence that God will give me the words to say or lead me to the things I can do to help ease the burden so others can be free to grieve.

I don't think we ever get to a point where we're just done grieving the loss of someone. Today, my grief looks different than it did 6 years ago. I still miss Garrett. There are days when I call a sweet friend, Jessica, who shares a lot of fond memories of him and I just cry. Why she keeps answering the phone is beyond me... I am truly blessed to have amazing women in my life who just keep answering the phone.

So here I am... All I have to offer is that I'll keep answering the phone. If you need to cry about it years from now, I'll still answer the phone. Grieving doesn't have a time line and friendships don't either. The little things I can do seem so little to me but I remember the littlest things had the biggest impact on me. One of my fondest memories is my friend Melissa picking up my girls and taking them to lunch (and she made them brownies). The still talk about how special they felt. So please remember, if there is only one thing I can remind you...nothing is too small. The words, "I don't know what to say" are better than saying nothing at all. 

Noelani "Lani" Swayde 

With all that said, I wanted to share the giving page we set up for the family to help them cover the cost of the funeral. If you want to give you can. 

Lani's Funeral Fund



If you want to send a meal, let me know. I'm more than happy to help you get a meal to them. You can sign up through Volunteer Spot. If that's too overwhelming, just message me and I'll set it up for you. If you want to bring a meal to Angelina on a day that isn't listed for her family, just let me know.

Meals for Lani's Families



If you want to come to the service, please feel free.

All services held at Woodmen Valley's Stone Chapel
290 E. Woodmen Rd.
Viewing: 1:00 pm
Service: 2:00 pm
Reception: Immediately following service



If you would like to leave a message for the family in Lani's memorial book:

Lani's Memorial Page



I just wanted to say that nothings too little. Every little things helps. I love this family more than words can express. I just wanted to take a moment to pay tribute to Lani and love on them. As always, thanks for listening.

One less reader...

So I feel like writing is just something that just comes naturally. Sometimes I struggle finding the perfect words at first but it doesn't take long for me to find them. I may hit delete a few times and start again, but in the end I usually find the words.

I've heard people talk about writer's block and I've been blessed to not experience that yet. I know many people who cannot seem to put their thoughts into words and into print. For me, that is not a problem.

I have to thank my mom. She seems to be the fire behind my passion. She was a wonderful writer. She had all sorts of talents, though I feel she never really saw them for what they were. I love what she did for me. She edited every piece of written work I wrote for years.

I would like to think she would be so proud of me. I would like to think she would be cheering me on as I write. I would like to think she would be the perfect editor for the book I will write.

But what's really interesting is I had other cheerleaders and I never knew it.

My grandma passed away last month. My dad & I traveled to her funeral. It was so weird. I got to see my cousins, some of whom I hadn't seen in 19 years. I realized I spent almost every Christmas at my Grandma's house with family growing up...and then. Well, we all grew up and had our own families. We stopped coming around at Christmas by the time we were teens.

All of the sudden, I felt really horrible. My grandma had probably been trying to get us all together again for years. We didn't do it until she was gone. My heart hurt.

Why? Why do we wait to get together? Why do we all talk about getting together and then never do?

Well, it was nice to get together. I missed my cousins and even got to spend time with some of my family with whom we never really got to spend time.

And then there were the scrapbooks...

Grandma scrapbooked a lot! She took this to a new level. She started scrapbooking before you could buy supplies at the craft stores, before you could easily copy pictures, before all the cute papers and embellishments.

As I looked through her scrapbook, I realized my Grandma kept track of everything in my life even if I didn't do the best to keep her in the loop. She had pictures of my girls every year. I had sent them, but I guess I never realized they were going into a scrapbook with a section dedicated to my girls. She even had pictures of major events at which she did not attend. My mom must have sent her some photos.

Then as I poured through the books, my cousin told me she read my blog every time. I never knew. I had no idea. She read every word I wrote. She was faithful to keeping in touch even though I did not pick up the phone, even though I did not write, and even though I had stopped visiting for the past few years.

Since she passed away, I haven't really wanted to write this post. It was the realization that I had one less reader. I don't have many reader or followers. I don't have many that keep in touch. I don't care if the world reads what I write. I write because God gives me the words to write. I write because I have a story to tell. I write to process life. I write because I love it and because my mom would have loved it. I write so often in honor of my mom.

Today...

Today I write in honor of my Grandma. I wish I would have know she was reading what I wrote...I would have written more to keep her in the loop. I wish I would have know about her scrapbooks...I would have sent more pictures. I wish I would have known...

I didn't know because I didn't call enough. I didn't know because I stopped visiting the past four years. I didn't know because I never asked.

Somehow, my Grandma ended up being my biggest cheerleader and I never knew. My Grandma was almost 90 when she passed. She had a cell phone. She had Facebook. She read Blogs. My Grandmas was a techie...

She followed me. I wish I would have know.

Broken Hearted...

When my friends hurt, I hurt.

As my mother described me so many years ago...

When I have a friend hurting, crying or grieving, I sit with them.

I feel I may be a magnet for the hurting... but that's okay with me.

I have amazing friends. In the past several months, my group of friends has exploded...which is good because I had so many lost recently.

Okay, Beth, I know I didn't lose you as a friend you just moved to TEXAS...but it seems like it sometimes. Especially when tomorrow I start the routine of dropping kids at school and somehow I feel I'll find myself trying to drive to your house for coffee only, you're not there. Love you lady!

But really, my group of amazingly close friends has grown a lot these past months. Some from entering a new season in life. Some from jobs. Some from family. And some old friends who have popped back around.

Anyways back to broken hearts...

I've had several friends hurting in so many different ways recently. It seems my phone rings often and well it sucks and it doesn't. It sucks my friends are hurting but I'm so glad I can be here for them.

Whether it's a puppy, hospital trip (or many), or broken relationships, I'm here. I listen. I love. And you all know I'm the last to make any judgement.

My heart is full of prayers for all of you. I want you to know (once again) I'm here. I'm praying. I love you. I'm not going anywhere. AND most of all, I feel blessed to have you in my life.

Alright girlfriends...it time to get serious about some girls nights! We need to laugh and love each other and let loose. Call me or text me its time to get out!

What you can't undo...

You cannot undo hurt. You just can't undo it. There is no going back.

On Sunday, my mom would have been 64 years old...but she's not. Is was only ever 60. That's where she stopped and went Home.

My heart was hurting as we decorated our tree on Sunday. I was doing my best to "get in the spirit" but I just couldn't get there.

I love my mom so much. There have been too many times in the past four years that I have picked up the phone to call her and realized she wasn't going to ever answer the phone.

I can't undo how I feel when I miss her. I can't undo losing her.

I miss my mom. I wish my step-kids knew her. I wish she knew them.

I her mind I was probably always 4 like that picture. In my mind, she's still here, healthy and happy.

I don't think you ever "get over" losing your mom.

Waiting...

I stand here waiting. No one comes. I sat after a while and waited. No one came.

It was just me. Just me.

I feel sad. I feel alone.

And then I wake up. There is that haziness after waking. I can't quite remember what I was dreaming but I know the feelings are still here. I lay very still and try to think about the dream. What was happening?

I was reliving something. I was reliving something sad.

Almost 5 years later the dreams still haunt me. I still feel like it was yesterday at times. I still feel like I'm a widow. I still feel like my world is spinning...but just sometimes.

And I'm quiet. I don't say anything. I keep it to myself. Because...

Well who wants to hear a woman go on and on about that man who died 5 years ago. I'm remarried. I have a "new" life. I am a wife and mother...no longer a widow. Or am I?

I lost my first husband. No one can take that away, fix it, undo it or whatever.

But when it comes to relational status, it seems you can only click one button at a time and I am married.

But...

I think of him everyday. I look at his daughters and I see his quirks and I hear his humor and every once in a while I see him. They don't know him. The memories are mine that I've retold so many times they have become their memories.

The pictures...they are packed in boxes.

His things...also packed in boxes.

Then someone calls me and asks for Mrs. Batron, and I say, "Yes" and then get off the phone and I'm sad.

Today, I sit alone. The dream was a dream. I have that one friend that remembers him like I do. We talk about our vacations together and say remember when... The stories include hot dogs, rained out soccers games and a fire pit in the back yard with everything but wood in the fire. She lets me laugh. She remembers him like I do. She lets me cry. Sometimes she cries because 5 years later so much is different.

We didn't plan this life. We didn't plan on being where we are. We didn't think it would just be memories.

And then there are these moments when I'm thinking about something and I can't remember that one thing. I want to call him and say, "What was that restaurant we stopped at in the small town?" or "What was that one things the girls said that was so funny."

And so I ramble...

I loved. I lost. I love again.

I remember when...

He should be 35

Last Friday, March 23rd, would have been my first husband's birthday. He should have been 35. He's not...

He turned 30 and then stopped. Just 3 months before his 31st birthday, he passed away. Actually he celebrated his 30th birthday in the ICU. I remember waking to 15+ ICU nurses and techs singing to him. I laid on my cot, facing the window and cried.

Garrett's last birthday celebration was in the hospital. 30 is supposed to be a mile stone, a moment in one's life he will always remember. I guess in someways it is...just for me, not him.

Each year, the girls and I get a Boston Cream Pie (his favorite dessert) and have a piece in his honor. The first year without him, many friends and family member joined us for a big celebration...we called it his "Forever 30" party. The second year, it was just me & the girls celebrating. Now the past two year, we have cake with our family and though it's weird for Ryan and the kids, the kids secretly look forward to having Boston Cream Pie.

This year, I couldn't eat one bite. We had the cake twice and I served everyone else. I couldn't even get it to my plate. I laid in bed and cried. I cried, "He should be 35 but he's not." I was supposed to grow old with him. I was supposed to have a lifetime with him. I laid there and just cried...because he should be 35!

Over the past several years, I have grieved so many losses. I lost my husband...and his family. Then I started loosing our friends one by one. Most of his friends have moved on. I woke up one morning and realized I have very few people around me that remember him, not the sick him...HIM. My girls don't seem to really remember him anymore. They parrot back the same stories I have told over and over. There are so many stories... So many stories that are just lost. We have a couple dozen pictures of him (that aren't our wedding pictures). We have a really short video he made in the hospital. Most of my last pictures of him got stolen on a disc. He's fading and I can't seem to hold on to him for them.

Celebrating his 27th birthday with friends at Gunther Toodies in  Denver

He should have been 35. We should have had Boston Cream Pie together. We should have been talking about our future. We should have been celebrating the girls milestone. He should be 35.

This is our last picture together before he got sick...and it's not even focused!

Redemption: Undefined and Unrefined

For many years, I had no idea what redemption really was. I grew up Christian and knew the sacrifice that Christ made on the cross. I knew He redeemed me and that I had eternal life not by my own actions but by His blood. I knew a lot of things about redemption and I had experienced the "standard" redemption the Christ gives all of us, but I think there are specific redemptions that God plans for each of us. Those, I did not understand for quite some time.

I think there are things God redeems before we know we needed them redeemed. Those are the undefined redemptions.  They happen and we only can see them in hind sight. As we look back and reflect on a particularly rough time or trying situation, we can see God redemption in it. We can see His plan clearly and reflection defines the redemption. After all, hind sight is 20/20.

One of the undefined redemptions in my life is my marriage. In my first marriage we had struggles.  The truth is, there isn't a truly intimate relationship that doesn't have struggles. To make this story short, I came to realize my part when my first husband was already sick and in the ICU. God took me through an amazing healing process. He opened my eyes and groomed me and pruned me and recovered the dark areas of my heart. I became a new me, a softer me, a less bitter me, and a more loving me.

The sad thing is, it was too late. My husband never recovered. When he died, I was in the depths of redemption. I wanted to redeem this marriage. I grieved so much that I never got to be the wife a husband deserves. We didn't get to grow old together side by side loving each other till our senior days. God "fixed" me and I didn't get to live that out with my first husband...but like I said, this was an undefined redemption.

My redemption in marriage came. I didn't get to be that for my first husband, but he did get to see that I was learning and changing. I do get to live that with Ryan. Ryan was my undefined redemption. God redeemed me for an undefined future. He redeemed me so that I could be the wife a husband deserves, today. God created a new, softer and more loving me and stripped away my bitterness. I am a better wife today because of the pain through which I journeyed. 

There were many months I grieved that my first husband did not live to experience the new me. God gave me peace here. God redeemed this as well by reminding me that my first husband was in His care which was his redemption. My redemption was getting to live out the "new" me with Ryan...and so undefined redemptions are sometimes hard but the wait is always worth it.

As for the unrefined redemptions, I think those are of our own doing. You see, God has a perfect plan but the problem is that He made us human. We like to "fix" God's plans and by doing so we leave a messy trail along the way, unrefined.

When God took me through my healing process, He showed me who I was. I had bought into so many lies over the years that I really didn't know anything about myself, down to the type of pizza I liked. I always think of the scene in the movie "Runaway Bride" when Julia Roberts is trying a dozen different eggs to find out what she likes. She had always eaten eggs however her man at the time ate his eggs. Here I was, a full on grown up, that didn't know what I liked to eat, who I was or what my "style" was.

I went through a long and painful introspective process and learned a lot about who God designed me to be. Some of it was joyful and exciting. It was like Christmas morning, discovering all my likes and dislikes. Other parts were painful and I grieved some things over and over. 

One of the most important things God revealed in me was my calling. I am called to those who grieve. Wow, by the way, that was a fun one to discover. I am called to grieving. Ouch, come on God, really?!? I have spent a lifetime grieving, which of course is why I called to those who grieve. I understand it. I relate to it. I can cope with it. I feel close to God through it. I hear God clearing during it. I "get" grieving. 

Now, that is not to say that I grieve all the time or that God surrounds me with pain and suffering, though sometimes it feels like it. What I am saying is it is like the verses on season..."season to grieve". There are other seasons too. There are also other types of people. As a body, we need the people that understand grieving and those that understand rejoicing.

I just happen to be the friend that most of my friends know they can come and cry. They can share their pain and suffering. They can talk and I'll listen. Somehow, I seem to really understand it all. I can just relate to grief...and grief is unrefined. No one does it "well." It isn't something we want on the front page of the book of our life. Our darkest hours are just that. Grieving is just plan ugly.

So I live a life of unrefined redemption. God has called me to be the shoulder to cry on. I get the messes. I am often the first phone call when things go wrong. Don't get me wrong, sometimes it's hard, but the truth is, I'm called. I feel fulfilled in living this out with people, people I love, people I know and even people I just met. I am comfortable in the hospital waiting room. I don't get scared when people are hurting and crying. I'm not uncomfortable when people fall apart.

With that said, there is part of me that sees the other side and wonders, "Why Lord, did you call me to the pain and not the joy?" I do celebrate with others. I do hear the good things in their lives, but I'm not called to that. How is it that God called me to all this grieving and I'm good with it? It seems like you'd have to be stupid to be "happy" about being "sad."

At the end of the day, I usually do not get the first phone call when good things happen but I do get the "bad" phone calls. I have a lot of crying conversations and they aren't usually tears of joy. When things are really good, my phone is usually silent, but I'm a loyal, faithful friend and will always be available when needed. I have friends that I am the only one that has made it through their years of pain. I have friends that cry and I cry with often. 

To my wonderful friends: Please don't ever feel you need to apologize for being a mess with me. It's my calling. God gives me strength to walk with you through those hard time. He refills me so I can endure through the hard times with you. I understand your pain and want to walk through the valleys with you. I think of the footprints poem sometimes in a new way. Sometimes there are only one set because He carries you and even when there are two, sometimes He's carrying you and I'm walking along side. I hope you never feel alone in the dark time. I am waiting here to serve you in your pain and I love you.

One moment at a time

So life has been a little rough to say the least these past couple of weeks. In that midst of it, I have had many blog posts brewing in my heart and mind. One of my best friends and I talked about the blog post laying in the back of your mind that life doesn't seem to allow us to actually get typed and posted. How long is too long before you just let it go and move on to the next thing happening? Then the thought is that too many things have happened since then and so there are just too many posts that never come to be.

Today, though, I am going to flash back a bit for several reasons. One reason is because it's still on my mind but the main reason is I want to get back into the swing of writing again. It's so much easier for me to write about things that have been brewing for a few weeks. So we are flashing back to Valentine's day weekend.

As I posted not too long ago,  my mom passed away on the 12th of February three years ago. This was one of the hardest days of my life. In the midst of this hard time, my best friend and Ryan's best friend had been dating for a while and on the very day my mom passed away, they decided they weren't going to let life pass them by and made their relationship official. Now, every anniversary of my mom's death is now their anniversary. In a weird way this was good for me. In her death, my mom brought two people together to share their lives. She reminded them that life is short. She reminded them to hold those you love close. So every year, they celebrate another year together, I remember another year without my mom.

This year, on their anniversary, he proposed...and she said yes! I'm so happy for them and excited to celebrate with them. I just wanted to post this to say, congratulations Wil & L. I love you both. I feel blessed that in one of my dark moments, you both remembered to take each moment, one at a time and make the most of it. Now each February 12th, I cry in joy for your lives together and cry for a mom remembered. Please never forget how precious life is. Remember to love each other every moment. Thanks for being apart of our live. Thanks for being amazing friends and thanks for giving me joy on a dark day. I pray God blesses your marriage as He has already blessed your life.

Congrats!

Missing mom...year 3

Tomorrow marks 3 years since my mom passed away. In some ways I think it can't be that long and other ways it seems like an eternity of days that I've been without her. I miss her a lot today.

The day that Haley broke her leg sledding, though my dad was with me, all I wanted was my mom. I wanted to call her a thousand times this week and just talk. It's been a hard week and I knew she would listen to me and tell me stories of my childhood sicknesses and remind me that this would pass, I can do it and she's so proud of me.

As I write this, I feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I miss her so much. I would love to have just one more conversation if only to tell her how much I love her and miss her. She was a rock in my life (one of many) but no one replace mom. 

There have been just too many losses in our lives, too many bad days. Today, I just want my mom. I just want her to be here. I want her to share stories of broken bones with Haley. I want her to sign Haley's cast. I want her to sit with Haley on the couch and read stories. I want her to dote on the other kids knowing they feel left out being Haley gets all the attention right now. I want her to ask me what I need. I want to cry to her and tell her I don't know what I need. I want her to tell me that's okay. I want to be the little girl that calls her mom in the middle of the crisis and knows that mom can't fix it but is just glad that she's there. 

I'm the mom without a mom. I'm just glad I had her as long as I did. She helped me in the early days of cooking and now I'm a confident cook. She helped me through the baby years and the toddler years and some of the school years with my girls and now I think of that advice as I head into the teen years. She helped me through being a wife and loosing my husband. Somehow that prepared me for being a wife again.

Mom right after Megan was born

Mom at Haley's dedication

 

Our last Easter...not that we knew that then.

Glad we took the time to take some pics

I feel like the words to describe what I'm feel are all mixed up and are tumbling out all mixed up. I don't even know what I feel or think. All I know today is: I miss my mom.

The aftermath

There is a silence that came after the storm.

I never quite know what grieving will bring. Some years I cry a lot. Some years I have trouble leaving my house. Some years I feel sick and some times I actually get sick. Some years things just feel slow.

This year I was tired. Very tired.

In some ways I wish it was "a lot of crying" kind of year. When I cry and cry I expect to be emotionally exhausted and then somehow being tired makes sense. Sleeping all day seems to be in order and not wanting to leave my house is okay because I've been crying all day.

This year I was just tired. Of course my grieving doesn't seem to care that I have a lot to get done. It doesn't seem to notice that my tree was still up two weeks into the New Year. It doesn't seem understand there are science projects to work with children and homework to be checked and dinner to be made. It doesn't even bother to wait for a better moment.

Grief comes. It is always present on the anniversaries and through most holidays.

I have been keeping up with my goals this year but it seems like they are running me right now. I know it is a season and so I keep moving forward. I know this will pass and the words will come again. I know that once they do they will come with ease. I know that when I write, I feel free again. I know that I feel all of it like it was yesterday though it was a lot of yesterdays ago. I know I will "catch up" with life and right now I'm just tired.

My "to do" list is always long. It gets a little longer this time of year when I force too many things till tomorrow being I am tired. I'll catch my breath and I'm not worried. I'm just expressing my thoughts and somehow that keeps me looking up, seeing the sunshine, finding the silver lining and living today though I am tired by the yesterdays that brought so much grief.

Today...I am still tired and there is a growing pile of things with which I will need to deal. Today...I will do what I need to do. Today...I will focus on the fact that I'm a little "out of focus" and I'm okay with that. I love seeing me in the soften edges of being "out of focus." I do not worry or fret.

Tomorrow I will see what I need to do and see what I can find the energy to do. Today...this is the end of my list. I wrote my thoughts. I see my feelings. I am moving. That's all.

I think I'm going to take a few more moments for me and make a little something for one of my kiddos with this:

Numbers

Four years ago...

Four years ago I spent my very last day being Garrett's wife. Our vows stated, "...till death do us part" and then death parted us. In some ways, it feels like yesterday and other ways it seems as though a million things have happened since then.

So here's the numbers:

48 months
1,460 days
35, 040 hours
2,104,400 minutes (or so)
126,144,000 seconds (or so)

When I put out number like that, it certainly wasn't yesterday. In my heart there are days when all of that pain is far away and other days (like today) when it truly feels like yesterday.

Here's daddy with his little girls:

Megan and daddy.

Haley in fine form...but I can't remember why she was fitting.

So tired

Today I am just plain tired. I'm so tired I can barely hold my eyes open. It seems everything I try to do is just way more difficult than it should be and I just want to take a nap...so I did.

I never know how "hard" days are going to be. I don't know if I'm going to want to cry all day or if I'm going to want to keep busy. I don't know if the day will go by and I'll be cranky, grumpy and snapping at everyone, only to remember (not that I truly ever forget) what day it is.

The "hard" days that seem to be left are birthdays and anniversaries but the anniversaries include wedding, dating, and death anniversaries. It seems that January and February are the hardest. I lost three very important people in those months.

Today it has been four years since Garrett passed away. I never forget. Recently it seems as though it is a story I tell people. Years and years of the telling the story it seems memorized and rehearsed. And then...out of no where, I find myself crying in bed. I feel forgotten. I feel like people have forgotten him. I feel like I am forgetting him. I can't remember parts of our life and there is no one to ask. There is a chunk of my life that doesn't exist anymore.

Many memories stay clear in life because talk about them. We reminisce. We repeat the details. We look at pictures and laugh and say, "Remember when..." There is almost a decade of my life that I have not been able to do that. When some distant memory comes up and I try to remember that place we went or that restaurant we loved, I don't have anyone to ask and so the details are forgotten. I think there were things I didn't even try to remember because I knew he would.

Another hard thing about the memories is that we just don't have very many pictures of Garrett. As parents, we spent a lot of time behind the camera and not nearly enough in front of the camera. Now that I have a beautiful camera, I think I take way too many pictures because of that very reason but once again, I'm just behind the camera.

Today I grieve and it's hard. I've seen it coming. It doesn't get easier, it is just different. Loosing Garrett meant I've lost a lot of memories, some family and our friends. There is hardly anyone left in my life that knew us all along the way and could fill in the memories when I say "Remember when..."

As I looked through pictures it seems the few pictures I have are of our wedding. Here's a few:

Us, my parents and my mom's parents.

Us, my parents & my dad's parent. Only 1/2 of the people in this picture are here today.

Us and my parents.

Garrett & my mom.

As I pray...remember 4 years ago

I posted a few days ago about a mother, Anna, who went to the hospital to have her 7th baby. During that time severe complications have led to her fighting for her life in the ICU. She has had at least 21 blood infusions and 5 surgeries. She has had seizures and many blog clots. Her family is surrounding her in prayer and are there around the clock reading her the Bible, praying, rubbing her feet and being there to calm her anxiety.

Her sister-in-law is a fellow blogger who has a blog sharing her family's journey trying to adopt a child from Africa. For the past week, she has blogged about Anna and found her blog going from 50-60 hits a day to seeing over 10,000 people follow her blog as she shared the updates and specific prayer requests. You can follow the blog and learn how to pray for Anna at http://thegregoires.blogspot.com/.

As you prayer, remember Anna's 7 children and her husband. I know the stress that her children are feeling without her and without dad being he is at Anna's side as much as possible.

Anna's Family before her 7th was born.

As I pray, I am remember a time four years ago. I am remember being in the ICU with my husband. I remember my kids needing me, needing daddy and not understanding why this was happening. As I pray, I remember the long nights in the hospital. I remember the first several weeks friends and family were there around the clock. I remember reading scriptures day and night. I remember praying without ceasing. I remember want to have a personal face to face talk with God.

As I pray, my heart breaks for this family because not only do I pray but I understand. I read the blog and prayer requests and I can hear what the doctors are saying to them. I understand what being in the ICU sounds like, smells like and looks like. I know what the nurses are saying. I know that in the beginning, the first moments, the words make no sense and there are questions that seem to make no sense. I know that you don't know what to ask at first and the information seems to come faster than a brain can process. I know that at the end of the day, the day doesn't end...it doesn't end.

Every moment your spouse is in the ICU is a moment your life is on hold. The only thoughts that consume your mind are in the moment. The future doesn't exist but for the fleeting "what ifs" that you pray God will silence. When I prayed, I would feel clear and peaceful. During that time God gave me true understanding of peace that surpasses all understanding. I felt anxiety that reaches high peaks followed by God quieting my spirit.

Each day had different challenges. How can I be here at his side when he is anxious and only wants to connect eyes with me and still be at home giving kids baths and tucking them in bed at night? How can I sleep when each "new" beep in the room could mean something? How many more times can I hear a nurse or doctor's opinion and not let it color my belief in our Savior having the power over all of it? How on earth did I find myself encouraging our friends and family?

As I pray, I remember. For me, those days turned into months and then over a year. For me, there where more than 5 months of ICU days, 2 months of rehab days and 7 months of in and out of the hospital. For me, I lost my husband four years ago tomorrow. For me, my story is a walk in faith and grief hand in hand. For me, I found my voice, my heart, my passion and the ability to be comfortable in my lack of focus.

As I pray, I thank God this family has Facebook and blogs to share Anna's story, to share prayer requests and to share updates. As I pray, I thank God that I have been able to see into this story...even just peeking from the outside. As I pray, I thank God even though these prayers bring my story, my feelings and my grief to the surface again, that all those things give me the power of specific prayer. As I pray, I understand that God gave me my story and He is using me today to pray. I would love to reach out and do...but being this couple years God has been teaching me the lesson of "being still" I have found that I can just pray.

Four years ago, my story changed in ways I could not have begun to imagine. I now walk in the belief that God speaks to me through my grief. I walk with grief but do not let it walk me. I no longer try to get "rid" of grief but I look forward to seeing what God teaches me as I grieve.

Today, I pray for a different story for Anna. I pray for healing and restoration. I pray for protection over her family and friends as they open their hearts and lives to care for her and her family. But mostly today, I pray for Anna's husband. I pray for the strength, clarity and peace. I pray for hope and faith. I pray for protection from the fears and worries the enemy tries to bring. I pray for sleep and rest. I pray for quiet moments and in those for God's voice to be loud and clear.

My story is mine and I walk with it daily. I know I cannot separate myself from it and do not try. I am grieving my losses today. I am praying today...and I am blessed.

The girls & I with the pallbearers after they carried the casket to the car to be taken to the grave site.

I just fell apart

Last night, I just fell apart. I mean everything came unraveled. It all fell out on the floor. You would have though I was 3 years old. All the things that have been bothering me just spilled out all at once and all I have to say is I have an amazing husband.

When he gives me that smile...I know I am loved.

He is patient, kind and loving. He is always on my side. I know that when I'm crying and a mess and nothing makes sense, he'll listen and hold me and tell me we're going to make it...even when I don't believe him. When he walks away, he comes right back. He reminds me we're a team, I'm not alone and that we have the best protector in the world on our side. He tells me he loves me even when I've said things that hurt him. And then...he waits until I can hold him back never letting go as I try to pull away and sob.

I am broken, but mending. I am hurting and tired but renewal and refilling are here.

Last night was the culmination of the realization that I AM NOT IN CONTROL. Wait, I'll say it again (not for you but for me). I am not in control. Deep breath in and out and ouch. Am I really here again? Am I really struggling with this yet again? How many times do I need to learn this lesson? I am so grateful to have a patient Heavenly Father willing to teach me this over and over and also bless me with an amazing husband that stays next to me while I learn this again and again. This is not like riding a bike. I am completely a mess every time and act as if I've never been here before.

In the end, I realized I am grieving, again. It is a life long theme for me. I'm not saying that I alway am grieving but that it is something to which I relate. It is how my Heavenly Father teaches me, talks to me and how I quiet so I can listen best. I don't think everyone learns the same way and so I don't think everyone has the same trials. I, however, grieve well. When I grieve, I listen, slow down and obey. It seems that after every good cry about all the things and people I have lost, the quiet afterwards brings the healing and the lesson.

So today I am a little quieter. I have learned what He wanted me to learn (or at least for this moment). AND most importantly, I have recognized that I am grieving. I will not take this and shove into the back corner. It's out in the open. I have had great loss in 2011, not greater or bigger or worse than other years of loss...just different.

The end of the year comes and goes as only a way to mark the time. A few days ago in 2011 aren't terribly different from today in 2012 but it does mark the time. It is when we reflect. It is when we see if we met our goals. It is when we realize what we have lost and what we gained. It is a time to realize how much happens in a year and then realize a year is such a small portion of life. 2011 is over. It was a year of growth, realization, prosperity and blessings. For all those things I am truly blessed and grateful. It was also a year of change, loss and grieving and weirdly I am truly blessed and grateful for those things as well.

2011 started a new light in my life. I am looking forward to being the "out of focus" gal I am. I like a little bit of everything. I don't know where I'm going (ever). I don't like making decisions and I'm okay with all of that. I started a new blog as an inspiration to me and part of grasping who I am. I have made several 30 day challenges and you can follow that blog at Out of Focus for now

As to the personal stuff...that will remain here. This is where I will be vulnerable and hang it all out there as I always have. This is where I share my family's adventures, joys and blessings. This is where I will continue to share my journey through grieving and my belief that grief is always good as long as you don't get stuck. Thanks to the many family and friends that have encouraged me these past several years as I have found my footing in the blogging world. The many times I wanted to hang it up it was always a blessing to hear from you when you said, "I have read it every time" and "Don't stop writing" and "I hear a little bit of your mom in your writing." You all have been my inspiration. I don't have a focus and I'm okay with that. THANKS SO MUCH! I love you all!

As always...thanks for listening. I look forward to hanging it all out there again this year.

And then there were none...

I am a widow.

Being remarried does not remove that title. I will always be a widow. My first husband died and forever gave me this title though over time, it seems to have gotten lost.

As I dug out the Christmas ornaments this year, I was reminded of this. Each year, each member of my family gets an ornament from me (I even get myself one). It was hard to see some of these ornaments and remember Christmases past.

I remember meeting with a friend shortly after my first husband died. She too is a widow and was already remarried when we first met. She told me all kinds of things that happened to her that I couldn't even believe would ever happen to me. She told me that one by one, the family and friends seem to  disappear. The life before becomes a distant memory.

At first, all our friends and his friends rallied around me. They comforted me and supported me. They didn't let me be alone. They bought gifts for my kids. They celebrated holidays with us. They invited us to all their big events.

Then I started hearing about events through the grapevine and wasn't invited. I found out people had babies and got married but we didn't get announcements let alone invitations. Phone calls weren't always returned and then I called one day and didn't even have the right phone number anymore. One day I noticed I wasn't friends with many of them on FB anymore.

I kept thinking this couldn't be true. These people were my husband's best friends, our friends and family. They were in or at our wedding. They were at our baby shower. They came to our parties and we came to theirs. Where did they go?

All of the sudden I realized that it had happened. One by one they all moved on and did not want to dwell on the past. Though I do not want to dwell either, I can say that it has just been another thing to grieve. Not only have I lost my husband, but too many parts of the life we had.

My kids were so young when they lost their dad and there is hardly anyone in their life to share with them about their dad, about the memories they had of him, about who he was. I only had him for eight years (not even a third of his life). Every child wants to hear about what their parents were like when they were younger.

The sad thing is that my kids have moved on as well. They don't ask about him as much. They don't ask about his friends or what he was like. Honestly, I don't share about him as much either. We have all moved forward...BUT he is still apart of our family. He is still important to us.

I haven't written this because I'm upset with people for moving on. I write this because there was a time when I thought I would never be able to move past this. I thought I would never get over loosing him. I thought it would still hurt when our friends started to drift away. I thought I would always feel lost,  always grieve, never feel home again and never love again.

I thank God daily for the life for which He has blessed us. I thank Him for the love He gave me. I do still grieve and holidays are still hard. I miss our friends and family but I love the friends that are still around, are new and all the new, big family.

There's no place like home.

No, I did not jump in a tornado and find myself on the other side of the rainbow, but I did find my way home. I wasn't lost, just moved. When you move, you have to find "home" again. For us, this home we had to find was a church home.

It was a very long journey. I was very sad to have left Vanguard. When God called us away, there was a silence that came with that. It was really hard to here God say this chapter is over but then not tell us what was going to be next. I found myself searching for any answer and was feeling a bit dazed.

Ryan and I talked and made that list of needs and wants for the new church. We would love it if God called us to a church about this big, that had a great such and such ministry and that was about this far away that had services around this time and blah, blah, blah. I think God laughed a little and said no to all of those things. He said He wanted us to be connect and He wanted us to feel called and He wanted us to hear Him. Oh. Got it. Sorry about that.

So He took us to Boulder Street Church (BSC). It was none of the things on our "list" but we felt Him...felt Him speak to us, felt Him call us, and just felt Him. I was taken over by what I can only call but feeling like I was home. Of course, we didn't want to make that decision right away. We committed to trying it several weeks in a row and still continued to discuss visiting other places, but after our several weeks in a row, we decided we were home. I was overjoyed that after this six month journey we were home...and then I grieved deeply.

When we left Vanguard, we were not broken or hurt. We loved Vanguard. There were days I prayed that God would not call us away. New things are scary and I love Vanguard. I knew God was very direct when He called us away. I knew we were walking into a new chapter of our lives and everything told us we were being called a different direction, but I still believe in Vanguard's mission and I love Vanguard. Making BSC our home meant that I really wasn't going to Vanguard anymore.

One day I just fell apart. I told Ryan that it just wasn't the way it was "supposed" to be. I have a wonderful life and God has blessed me in ways I cannot explain....but. But I missed my friends. But I don't like change. But I was feeling alone. But I wasn't going where I thought I would be going right now. But...but...but.

At the end of the "but" tunnel, I came out of the other side a little sad, a little lonely, very excited and very blessed. I am a little sad that after church when I'm talking to friends, they are all new friends. I am a little lonely when I go to a church function and my best friends are not there. I am very excited to see where God will call me to serve at BSC and I am very blessed to be home.

Thank you Lord for taking our family on this journey, for blessing it and giving us direction and peace. Thank you all who joined with us in prayer as we went on this journey and as always...thanks for listening.

When I walked through the Shadows of Death...You comforted me.

Friday will mark two years of marriage with Ryan. He is the man of my dreams. He is my other half. He is my partner in life. He is my rock. He is the leader of our family. He is my spiritual protection. He is gentle. He is kind. He is patient. He is humble. He is smart. He is brave. He is more than I knew to ask of God and he is the redemption God had planned for me.

However, six years ago, I was a young wife and mother who was about to walk through the darkest days of my life. I did not know what was coming and if I had, I probably would have run. On this side of things I can say in confidence with my 20/20-hindsight-vision that it was worth it. When I was there, I only asked “why” over and over and over again. I never have received an answer.

I remember walking through my first husband’s sickness hurting and weary. I remember feeling like it was never going to end. I remember begging God to heal him. I remember falling asleep at night listening to the beeping of the hospital machines. I remember dedicating my life to taking care of all his needs. I remember praying for a miracle and then I remember when it ended. I remember telling my friends to leave the hospital and I got in my car. I remember getting onto the interstate and then three exits from my parent’s house I screamed. I screamed and cry and yelled “WHY, why, why God. Why wasn’t he the one to receive a miracle? Why is this the plan for me? Why?”

Those days seemed long then. I was very lonely. I cried myself to sleep every night and woke up crying. I cried in the shower. I cried every moment I was alone. When the kids were home, I put on my “face” and carried on with life but then sometimes, I cried with them. I would cry because he was going to miss a sunset or never ski again. I would cry to think that he would miss walking the girls down the aisle (even though that is still very far away). I would call a friend and ask a question and then just cry. A friend would stop by to check on me and I would just cry. Then I would cry about how much I was crying and how I was drowning my friend in my tears. They would reassure me and I would cry some more. I thought I would never stop crying.

One night, I just fell asleep without crying. After a while those nights came more often and soon several in a row. At some point, I noticed the sun was shining and the mountains were beautiful and I did not cry about it. I started to smile. I started to laugh. Every once in a while, I would cry again (and sometimes I still do). I will always miss him. We spent eight years together. He was all I knew. I was so very young when we met.

Today, as I think about being married to Ryan, I see so much more. I see the things that God wanted me to have after that storm. Ryan is not “better” he’s different. I cannot and will not compare them. I can say that Ryan is my redemption. Ryan is the picture of what God was doing in me when I journeyed through the “valley of the shadow of death” and some of His comfort came much later. Ryan is a miracle in my life. Ryan and I have been blessed so much and some of that I attribute to the promises God gave to me in the midst of the storms. I know that the future will still have bumps but I also believe one thing that has stayed with me all these years from a sermon Pastor Kelly gave many years ago. He said that the bigger the storm, the bigger the miracle would be. I held onto that during the storms and now I am walking in the miracles. Thank you Lord for those little things with which you comfort us that carry us through the valleys.

Day 4 at the Care Point Part 2...Dedicating the David Hames Building

After the wonderful luncheon with the Gogos, we went over to dedicate a building being built in David Hames' honor. The building will be a preschool classroom on the care point.

Just a little information for those who do not know, David Hames was a member of Vanguard. He was a videographer that went to Swazi three years ago. Many of his video is part of the Beyond Survival website and provides information as well as swells hearts to hear about Swazi. In 2010, David was on another missions trip videoing in Haiti when the earthquake happened. He died in the wreckage. In his honor, is widow, Renee and her boys created a fund for Swazi. This building is being build from that fund.

Being a young widow as well, Renee's generosity spoke to me in a very powerful way. I was very impressed to see her give back to something her husband loved so much when her needs were and are great as well. David and Renee's boys are very young and they have a lifetime ahead of them. Being David was only 40 when he passed away, I have to assume that Renee and the boys will not be completely financial covered for as long as they will need it. She is a gracious and generous woman and this building being built is an honor to not only David but Renee and her boys.

As I was preparing for this trip, there were several times when I wondered what God had in store for me. I don't know that all of that has been revealed yet, but I do know that being at the dedication was very healing for me. I watched as some of Renee's very close friends broke as they stood in the building after we prayed and dedicated it. I watched them through a window as many from the team gathered around them, held them and prayed with them. I watch through this window frame and at that moment had great peace. I wrestled with that greatly.

I had once been the grieving widow whose friends gathered around and wept with me. Now I stood outside this building and watched. Renee was not there in Swazi, but her friends stood together and wept for her. I wrestled with wondering why I was not in there weeping too. I understood more than anyone there what the building represented. I lost a husband 3 1/2 years ago. That really isn't that long ago. I wondered why I had great peace. I wondered by I was looking at the sunset over the building watching Renee's friends through a window and was peaceful.

My mother had once described me as the girl that would cry with her friends when they were crying. When I overheard this description, I did not like it. I thought it showed that I was weak. As I grew up and faced the many things that I have, I started to understand that being able to grieve with others was God's gift to me. Grief is a painful thing. OK...that sounded a little obvious, but it's true. Grief hurts! There are many people that cannot stand in that pain with others. There are many that run from pain. There are many that leave their friends when they are in pain. But I am not one of them.

God has called me to the grieving. God has called me to help those who are stuck in grief. God has called me to walk with those who grieve. Because of this calling, I had to walk through great times of grief. Human nature would dictate that we trust those who understand and understanding comes from experience. In order to walk in my calling, I was going to have to loose much and grieve for a long time.

BUT...now I'm on the other side of this. The thing about helping others is we need to have learned from it and be in front of it. If I am crying so painfully hard about loosing my first husband, there is no way I can help someone talk about their losses. So I have peace and at this moment it was awkward.

We had been briefed before going to the care point that it may be hard to go off into the kitchen and eat lunch as we see these kids through the windows eating pap and beans but that was not something with which I struggled. The reality is that what I was eating would not keep them from being hungry. The food they are feeding the kids at the care point is fortified with protein will help keep their little tummies full being they only eat two times a day at the care point. That was a very logical answer for me and was easy for me to accept though I know others struggled with it.

My struggle came with the building dedication. You would think I would have rejoiced that I am not grieving anymore (or rather not weeping in grief anymore because I still grieve). You would think that would be a testimony to God's amazing healing power in my life and a blessing to be walking in such peace. All I could think is that I am called to the grieving and I am peaceful about that. I can watch a woman weep for her friend while "enjoying" the sunset giving God all the glory for the day. I feel blessed to be able to honor this man and his widow and their children. I wept as I talked about a personal experience with David and then I had peace. This is not the first time that God gave me "Peace that surpasses all understanding" and I'm sure it will not be the last.

At the end of the day, I know I needed to be on this particular trip to Swazi to stand in that building to pray over it and dedicate it to God. I know that God had something he wanted to tell me and I am so glad I was listening. My theme this past year has been Psalm 46:10 "He says, Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." On this day, I was still and He was exalted among the nations and in the earth. Thank you Lord for fulfilling part of Your plan for me this day. I pray I will always remember this and hold it close to my heart as a reminder that no matter what I may think, Your plan is always perfect for me.

Here are some pictures from this event. We all had red balloons and released them in honor of David's company that was called Red Balloon Productions in reference to one of his favorite films. They don't seem to really show what we experienced but here they are:

Kimberly with her balloon.

Amber blowing up her balloon in the doorway.

Hayden, a beautiful boy that has a deep relationship with David's sons.

Marty in the background...always need someone to break the tension.

Cody followed suit.

Through this balloon you can see Laura blowing up her balloon.

The team about to release the balloons.

The release.

After the release, this one balloon got caught in front of the building.

Sunset at the dedication.

Friends praying and weeping in their grief.

Prayers at sunset.

Laura placing a balloon in the building...it will be forever apart of the building.

A balloon in the wall.