Woulda Beens

Today is Jacob’s birthday.  He would have been 28.

I always wince when I utter that phrase ‘would have been’ because it inevitably brings pain and sadness to me every time I say those words or think those thoughts.  It also conjures up a basketful of ‘woulda beens’ to sift through, like:

What would’ve he been doing today?

What kind of career would he have had?

Where would he have been living?

Would he have been married?

Who would he have been married to?

Would he have had any children? How many and what would have been their ages? What would their names have been?

The ‘woulda beens’ can go on and on if I catered to them.

But I realize that it serves no good purpose to participate in this type of exercise.  It only stirs up the grief yet again and picks at the scars. You can’t change the past.  Dandy Don Meredith, that happy go lucky Dallas Cowboys quarterback who played in the 60’s and was also Howard Cosell’s sidekick when Monday Night Football first started, coined a well known phrase. He used to like to quote during a football game that had run off the tracks, “If if and buts were candy and nuts, we’d all have a merry Christmas.” 

We can’t torture ourselves with the “if onlys” and “if I could go back and do it over again” scenarios.  There is no time traveling DeLorean that Dr. Emmett Brown has created that we can jump into and go back to change the future to our liking. We have to accept the fact that we did the best we could at the time and in the light that we were given for our loved one. To do otherwise is only to cause damage to ourselves and, in a sense, dishonor the memories of our loved one.  It is better to focus on the memories that bring the tears of joy rather than cry over ‘what could have been’.  That does not negate the pain of grief. It’s a natural desire to wish to have the lost loved one back in our lives.  But due to the imbalance that sin has wracked this world with, the loss of a loved one to a disease, to an accident, or becoming collateral damage in someone else’s poor decision making, we have to endure carrying this burden. It’s only those memories of love that can make the burden more bearable. But there is no going back.

I find it strange where I’m at in the grieving process. Now, when I begin to formulate the ‘woulda beens’ about Jacob’s life there is a wee bit of warm whimsy and sentimental thought that gets mixed in among the grief.  Here’s what I mean:

·         I can only imagine, if he would have survived and lived, that he would be enjoying life to the fullest…. because that’s the way he lived life in his first twenty-one years.

·         I don’t know what kind of job he would have held, but it would have been with a crowd of people around him … for he loved people and being with people.

·         I don’t know where he would have been living …. but I don’t think it would have been far from Karen and me … or his sister, Katie, whom he loved so much.  He didn’t like to be too far from home and family.

·         If he had been married, he would have been a loving and caring husband …. because he cared for others and wanted to see to it that they were happy.

·         If he had been married, Karen and I would have had a lot of explaining to do with his patient and loving wife … because he didn’t keep the cleanest house and he was basically useless at fixing things. But the woman he would have fallen in love with and committed himself to would have been the luckiest woman on earth … because he would have doted on her hand and foot.

·         If he had children, they would have been the most loved kids on earth (nosing out only his nephews and nieces by only a little) …. because Jacob LOVED kids!

But tragically and sadly, these are only ‘woulda beens’ because Jacob died at age 21 and he will forever be that age in our minds … except for when we share other memories of him at other stages of his short life. 

Easter 2009

And so we will have to be content with shuffling through the memories or the photographs and videos of him at different ages and stages …. remembering, reminiscing, laughing, crying, and sharing the ‘woulda beens’.

Happy ‘Woulda Been’ 28^th Birthday, Jacob.  We love you and miss you.

Jacob's Journey, a video tour of Egleston

This 10 minute video was recorded by a good friend of ours, David Doyle, following Jacob's first transplant.  David and his wife, Lesa, were part of a support group of friends in Houston that cared for us during some difficult times in our life.  Now, David and Lesa have joined Jacob in heaven.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nm9ptKCUAq4

Great Friends who are missed.

These Two

These two.... (warning, long post ahead)

This Friday, March 11, would have been Jacob's 28th birthday. Richard and I have shared often about his life and how he impacted so many. Today, I want to share a little bit about Ben and Katie.

This week is always filled with lots of memories for us, so bear with me. On March 8, 1988, Richard and I boarded an airplane to Philadelphia to deliver a sick baby at an unknown hospital. His future was so grim and we were going to a place where we knew nobody and had no idea of how long we would be there. At that time, the treatment of HLHS (hypoplastic left heart syndrome), was in its infancy stage and we were going to one of two hospitals in the country that were having any success with surgeries.  Jacob was scheduled to be the 76th baby to have this series of procedures performed on him.

In the weeks leading up to us leaving for Philadelphia, I would have uncontrollable crying spells over the thought of leaving Ben (age 8), and Katie (age 2). We lived in Houston, Texas, at the time and had no family nearby. Richard's parents came out to take care of them, but the kids weren't really used to them.
Fortunately, we had wonderful friends to fill in the gap. I will never forget pulling out of the driveway and waving to Ben, who was crying inconsolably, and Katie, who was waving at us with an adorable smile. In the few days before Jacob was born, our access to them was so limited (this was before cell phones, FaceTime, etc). There were no phones in our room at the Ronald McDonald House - just one phone for the whole floor. Hospital phones were almost nonexistent.

One night, the song from the movie "American Tale" (a family favorite) came on the radio in our room. When we heard those words:

"Somewhere, out there, beneath a pale moon light,
Someone's thinking of me, and loving me tonight,"
"And even though I know how very far apart we are
It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star"
"And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby
It helps to think we're sleeping underneath the same big sky"

Richard and I were overcome with such anguish and grief over missing these two. Today, whenever I hear this song, sung by Linda Ronstadt and Aaron Neville, I am still transported back to this time in my life and overcome with deep emotion.

From the time we came home with Jacob, Ben and Katie's lives were changed. I was totally housebound with a very medically fragile child that no one, not even our doctors, knew how to take care of. I missed many important school events, baseball and soccer games, church events, etc. I spent several birthdays holding Jacob on the steps in our kitchen, watching while Richard held outdoor birthday parties for Ben and Katie. Our doctors were adamant about Jacob being around as few children as possible. This meant no play dates or sleep-overs at our house for Ben and Katie. Their childhood had to adjust to the needs of their sick baby brother. They grew up learning how to read pulse oximetry machines, taking blood pressures, giving lots of meds, spending endless hours in doctor and hospital waiting rooms (before you had smart phones to entertain them).

When they became teenagers, they were not allowed the luxury of teenage drama. Somehow, they both just knew that Richard and I couldn't deal with any more stress. They did well in school, had after school jobs, made good friends, and were always there to help when there was a crisis, of which there were many.
They both had to change schools several times during their middle and high school years due to church changes. It was very difficult, but they handled it with grace and dignity.

Today, they have successful careers, married perfect mates, and live meaningful and purposeful lives. Somehow, despite having a childhood that meant putting their brother's needs before their own, they have never shown any resentment towards Jacob. I am sure they must have felt it, but it never stopped them from loving and taking care of him and each other. He was lucky to have them for a brother and sister.

It is hard for me to write about these "two," when it still should be these "three;" however, it is what is. I have always said that the best job I ever had was being a mom and these two made it such an honor to be their mom. They somehow just know how to step up and support their parents, whether it is in the years following the death of their brother, or burying a beloved grandmother, or helping us deal with the aftermath of a flood. I love them both and am so proud of the adults they have become. I look forward to see what the future holds for them.