Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Two Years

Well, it's been quite awhile since I have written on this site. I guess I can only write so many times how deep the grief is and how hard it is to lose a child. Perhaps the rawness of grief has ebbed some; however, the sorrow is always with me. I sometimes find myself pretending that Jacob is still away at college. Then, reality hits and I realize this is what life will always be like.

Tomorrow, June 14th will be two years since Jacob died. Life will never be as it was. I will never have my three children together again. There will never be our whole family sittting around the dinner table. We'll never be together for holidays. I will always have one less birthday card or Mother's Day card. I could go on, but enough of that...

I can now talk about Jacob's death without always crying. His death, like his life and the lives of all my children, is now part of the fabric of my life.

I will be glad when tomorrow is over - not because the day itself is any harder than any other day, but because this day forces me to think back to that awful weekend two years ago. I don't let myself go there very often and when I do, it is hard to recover from the intense and extended crying that happens. I still wonder why I didn't insist Jacob go to the hospital on June 9th when he was having some problems with fluid retention. He so wanted to go on that yearbook retreat and he was more worried about driving through Atlanta during rush hour traffic than he was about his swollen ankles. I wish I hadn't listened to our transplant nurse when she said that he had always had problems with fluid retention, so just give him an extra dose of Lasix. I didn't want him to be disappointed and not be able to go, so I listened to her and let him go.

I will never forget his face when he got out of his car that fateful afternoon on June 12th and saw me and said, "Mama, I don't feel so good." He started crying because he knew something was seriously wrong. The rest of the weekend was such a nightmare. We knew he was in serious rejection, but we just didn't think we would lose him so fast. That last day was so hard. I can still see him looking at me and telling me he was sorry and that he loved me. I so wish that his death had been a peaceful one where he had died in his sleep. The look on his face when he went into cardiac arrest still haunts me to this day.

I still have not reconciled myself to where God is in all of this. I do not understand how this fits in some master plan. While I do believe that there is a God, I do not believe that prayer works the way most of think it does. I recently read a blog by a Dr. Gordon Livingston - a psychiatrist at Johns Hopkins. He lost two sons, one to Leukemia (my father died of this years ago), and another son to suicide. He expresses many of the same emotions I do and he raises the same questions about prayer - if we pray and ask God for healing and good things happen, we thank God and say our loved one or ourselves were healed because of our prayers. We don't seem to have an answer to those who pray just as hard and have just as many people praying and yet, their prayers are not answered.

One last thought on this - let's say you're going to go on an airplane trip. You miss your flight and the flight you were supposed to take crashes and all are killed. If you say, "Thank you, God, for keeping me from taking that flight" or "God protected me" etc., how do you respond to the families of those who died on that flight? Surely, there were people on that flight who loved God also? I could go on and on about this, but I'll stop with that.

Dr. Livingston has written several books, but one (Only Spring) is written specifically dealing with the loss of his son. Google him if you want to read more about him.

So, tomorrow, Richard, Katie and I are going to take our dogs to a park for a long walk. Then, Katie and I are going to get our nails done, because we know Jacob would want us to do that. Then, we are going to go out to eat at a place he would like. We'll probably watch a movie that he would like. We're also going to listen to the song played at his funeral - the ending song from "Wicked" - "For Good." We'll also talk to Ben and if Tucker is in the mood, we'll Skype with him and read to him and Libby Kate. That always cheers us up. Nothing like grandchildren to make you smile. Ben and Beth do a good job of keeping Jacob's memory alive.

While our family will never be the same, I know that I would never have change the decisions we made 23 years ago to embark on this journey, despite the sad ending.

I don't quite know how to end all of this rambling so I'll end with the last line from "For Good:"

To my son,

Because I knew you, my life has changed for good,

I love you,
Mom

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

A New Member

Disclaimer: There are probably some grammatical errors and misspelled words. Richard will fix this when he reads this. He loves to do this.


Tonight, a friend of mine joined a club I'm a member of - it's the club nobody wants to belong to - it's the group of mothers and fathers who have lost a child. In the grand order of the universe, this is just not supposed to happen. Children are not supposed to die before their parents! This is not how life is supposed to be. You are supposed to be born, grow up, give your parents lots of gray hairs, and then stand at their bedside when they die. Parents are not supposed to watch their children die. Surely, surely, God, you did not plan for this when you were creating this universe.

Okay, for all you theologins out there, yes, I know all about the effect of sin in this world. Remember, I am the granddaughter and daughter of Methodist ministers and the wife and mother of Baptist ministers (sorry, Mom and Daddy). But really, can anyone, I mean anyone, really explain the death of a child to a grieving mother? Where is Dietrich Bonhoffer (sp?) or C.S. Lewis when you need him?

So, the only thing that really brings comfort to me right now is to think about Mary, the mother of Jesus. She knew what it was like to lose her son. I bet she had her moments of anger. I know that she was grieving at the foot of the cross where her son died.

Another thing that gets me through these dark days is to look at other parents that have lost their children and see that they make it through each day. They are my inspiration. I asked a friend of mine, who lost her son ten years ago, this question: "Will I ever get to a point where I can be silly and have fun again?" Her answer was yes, but in a different way.

Those are the people I draw my strength from - they know that feeling of dreaming about your son and in your dreams, he is alive and life is as it was.....but then, you wake up, and life comes crashing back to reality.

Or...you don't dream about him, but in that moment between sleep and waking up, you think that your life is back to normal and he is still here.

Or... you speed-dial your children on your cell-phone as you drive home - Katie #4, Ben #5, Jacob #6...wait, I can't call him anymore. I can't even hear his voice on voicemail anymore.

Or...you're buying valentines to send to your children and you go to the section for sons. This year, you can only buy for one son, not two.

Or...the list goes on. Too many to write about.

So...to wrap this up. I am so sorry that my friend, Denise, has to join this group. I wish there wasn't any need for this group, and trust me, when I get to Heaven, and I better get there,(are you listening, God?), I do plan to have a very long talk with you-know-who and find ask Him this question....WHAT WERE YOU THINKING????? This does not fit the cosmic order that you so beautifully designed.I know we are supposed to believe that You have a plan for our lives, but frankly, if this is it, I think I would like to have plan B.

Okay...I am going to stop. If you are still reading this, and why would you, go hug your children, your spouse, your partner, your friends, anyone whom you love and would be grieving for if they were suddenly gone tomorrow.

My friend, Denise, would want you to.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Hello Again

Well, I haven't written in awhile and I'm sure you're thinking, "Well, Karen must be doing pretty good since she hasn't ranted on her blog in awhile." That sounds rather narcissistic (sp?) of me, because, probably, no one really cares if I have written. Frankly, I just haven't had the energy to write. It takes a lot of emotion to write and I needed all the energy I could save to get through the holidays and start a new year.

In some ways, I'm doing okay. Not really, but it felt good to write that. The rawness (is that a word?) of grief has eased a little. I have also learned that it is important and necessary to allow myself to do things that give me pleasure. For those of you who know my family, you know we never relax before the work is done. I'm learning that it is vital, if not critical, for me to do things that bring joy and beauty to my life. Here's some of those things:

1. Spending time (lots of it) at our cabin and listening to the babbling creek that runs behind the back porch. Yes, the creek really does babble.

2. Going for long walks or drives in the mountains. There is something so therapeutic about just seeing the mountains - even from a distance.

3. Knitting - believe it or not, knitting has a lot of therapeutic value. There is actual research that shows it helps the brain in the same way that yoga or meditation does. I love to knit and it has brought so many wonderful new friends into my life. I don't really knit all that well, but that doesn't bother me. I'll write about the philosophical benefits to knitting on another post.

4. Shopping with my daughter or anyone who wants to go with me - I love to shop, especially with my daughter. I especially love to go shopping with other people and help them spend THEIR money.

5. Listening to certain kinds of music - can't take really meaningful music right now - just something kind of cheesy. I've discovered that I like "rap lite" - the clean kind of rap like they sing on Glee. Anything I can laugh at.

Okay, enough.

I just thought I would say hello, again, and see how everyone is doing. I actually have another post to write about a friend of mine who just lost her son. I think I will write that as a new post.