Classroom Visit

Back when Keyan was in fourth grade we started introducing her to the cognitively impaired classroom in our district.  It was at another school so she went just a couple times a week for fourth and fifth grade but she immediately enjoyed the pace of the program and appreciated being able to be successful at her school work instead of frustrated.  When she started sixth grade, the CI classroom was in the same middle school building so she entered that program more on a full time basis.  Of course her health took a toll on her and she wasn't able to be there very often but when she was, she LOVED her teachers, her friends, and the environment.  She thrived at school and would often tell me how the days went faster when she could go to school for some of it rather than stay home with me, "No offense Mom!" she would say!

Today, I visited that classroom.  I went because one of her friends did not know about her death until school started and he has been having a hard time.  I was delivering some special books just for him that he could have at home to remind him of Keyan.  I was looking forward to helping him in this small way but didn't really prepare myself for all of the emotions surrounding her classroom.  I want to share with you how my visit went.

Upon arriving in the room, the assistant teacher greeted me warmly and said that the teacher and the rest of the class would be back soon as they were just coming from science.  Right away, a boy that is in a grade lower than Keyan, but went to school with her some in elementary school recognized me and said, "You are Keyan's mom!" "Hi Isaiah!  How are you?" I asked.  Right away, he answered with. "Where is Keyan?"  I wasn't sure what the kids had been told or what words were used so I tried to avert his attention at first by asking, "How is middle school going for you Isaiah?"  "Well, it is good but, where is Keyan?" he said again.  I was SO unprepared!  I looked at the assistant teacher with wide eyes and asked her, "What am I supposed to say to that?" The poor lady, we were all sort of floundering thru all of the awkward stuff and I threw her right into it!  She kneeled in front of Isaiahs desk and said, "Remember when we talked about Keyan? Remember we have those books back there to remind us of her?"  Isaiah wasn't buying these iced over answer and I knew that it was really my job to address it as her mom.  Keyan would have just answered their questions....so  I did.  I took a deep breath and said, "Do you remember hearing that Keyan passed away this summer?  That she died this summer?"  With a huge gasp and eyes big as quarters,  Isaiah said, "That is terrible!  What happened?"  We now had the attention of the other kids in the classroom so I went on to explain that she had gotten really really sick.  Another boy Chris spoke up and said, "I knew it, I knew something bad would happen since she had that thing in her throat and her breathing was bad."  pointing to his own throat while remembering Keyan's trach.  I smiled and nodded while saying, "Yeah, she had a lot of things going on didn't she?"

Isaiah then says, "I miss Keyan! Did she get really, really sick?" and several other kids nodded their heads and said, "Yeah, we miss her too!"  I bit my lip for a quick minute and just said, "I know, I really miss her too!" my voice wavering and fighting back the tears.  "I miss her a lot."  I said.  Quickly, Chris said, "Keyan's mom...first there was Keyan's big brother." holding up one finger, he continued with his thought. "Then the four twin girls came, Keyan and her three twin sisters." Now all five fingers were waving in the air representing my five children.  "But now there are only the three twin sister and a brother, like a minus question." Chris finished.  "You are so right, Chris, Keyan leaving us is like a subtraction problem." I agreed.  "Isaiah then says, "Did you have to go to her funeral or did you get to skip it?"  I sort of chuckled under my breath and said, "Yep,  I had to go but it was ok." Little did Isaiah know that moments before walking into Keyan's funeral, our pastor pulled Paul and I aside and said, "Neither of you have ever done this before.  You have no idea how you are going to feel or how your body is going to react.  The nearest exit is directly to your right and if you need to run out at ANY point, it is absolutely ok to do so.  Honor your body and mind and do what YOU need to do!"  And trust me, I almost headed right out that exit instead of proceeding behind Keyan's casket.  I thought how brilliantly smart Isaiah was in his question.  How beautiful his unspoken words were.  What I heard was "That had to be really hard!"

The students went on to ask if Keyan's sisters were sad, how her nurse was doing and if her nurse cried a lot, talked about their friends who they knew were having a hard time, and continued to talk about how they missed her.  I am here to tell you that about the time the first boy asked me where she was, I wanted to run out of the classroom.  I wanted to run and hide from having to deal with the hard questions.  I even told the teacher I would probably just leave.  But I am so grateful that I did not turn away.  I am so thankful for the time I spent in that classroom today.  Being surrounded by Keyan's peers felt safe.  Sitting in a desk that she might have used was almost a sacred space for me.  I ran my fingers over the desk top thinking how she may have set up for iPad or computer in that very space.  I couldn't let my self immerse in those emotions because class was going on around me, but I could rub up against those feelings at the same time I answered life skills questions, sharpened pencils, and helped the kids with their assignments. It was good and I am so glad that I didn't run away from it all.  I would have missed out on those precious moments with Keyan's friends, missed out on the hugs from the teachers, and missed out on the little glimmer of hope that I was able to carry with me.  Our family motto has become "We can do hard things" and I had to live that today but I am so glad I chose to step into the deep waters even for a few minutes.  It felt good!

**All names have been changed for privacy reasons

Thoughts

It is the first day of school for us today.  I am so thankful that we didn't start until after Labor Day.  Our family needed every minute of this summer to prepare for this fall.  The girls are starting seventh grade and Jamahl is going into 10th.  It was the first school year where I have felt totally at ease with them walking into the buildings away from me.  I have complete confidence in the staff at both the middle school and high school.  I know that they are going to not only challenge our kids this school year but also love on them as people....and that means a lot to me.  I am never ready for summer to be over.  I enjoy lazy days with my kids at home.  I enjoy the different pace of summer. This year we crammed in driver's training, USA swim season, theater camp, basketball camp, Camp Geneva, some pool days, some shopping days, days spent with extended family, the start of Water polo season, Family Camp, and so much more on top of loosing Keyan.  It was a crazy three months...so much pain and yet laughter, joy and goodness at the same time.  I will miss the time I had to spent with my kids this summer but I am needing some space to grieve.

The kids have been so patient with me as I continue on my grief path.  But a sad mom or a mom who is crying worries them.  Even though they logically understand why I am shedding crazy amounts of tears; that doesn't help them feel better about a mom who is a little less connected, has a little less tolerance, has problems dealing with loud noises and crowds, and who is less engaging then before.  I need some time to grieve without four sets of eyes on me.  I yearn to sit in Keyan's room and just cry until the tears stop on their own instead of me trying to pull it together because the kids are coming.  I look forward to spending some time just meditating over the last 12 years and unpacking the truths of  a life that I was so intently focused on, I may have lost some of the bigger pictures.  I need to hold space for my girl in the only way I can now...to breathe in her scent, to lay on her bed beneath her weighted blanket, and commune with her memories.

As we faced the first time going to family camp without Keyan this past weekend, and as we treaded through our first back to school day without Keyan, I noticed something.  I knew all these first moments would be hard, but I want people to know that for me, today was no harder than any of the other past 60+ days.  Right now, every single day I am pushing back the cloud of grief.  Every single day I hold back the tears on moments that take my breath away and every single day I cry, often when I least expect to.  Every single day I miss Keyan with a depth that I never would have understood possible before.  Every single morning I wake up assaulted by the fact that my precious child is no longer on this earth and every single night, my brain spins trying to understand this new territory we find ourselves in.  The "first" don't hold any more power over me than any other day.

With these "firsts" though, I did feel a greater permission to grieve.  People were proud of me today when I told them that I came home and crawled back into my bed before going to therapy....usually that elicits worried glances and questions of my "alrightness." (Yes, I am making up words) People in my life were prepared for me to me a wreck today, to be a mess, to cry big ugly tears, and to not be able to hold it together...and I was all those things today and more! But on any other given Tuesday, it makes people concerned and uncomfortable if I am that way too long.  Oh, please understand that I know all of this concern and care is done solely out of love for me but please don't forget about people's grief on the good 'ole average, run of the mill Thursday....because for me, it is no less in my face.  

When I look at this morning's back to school picture of my amazingly resilient kids, I find it almost impossible to look beyond who isn't there. If I use all of my strength, I can see four other beautiful smiles, four other strong hearts, four other confused and scared souls, and four other loves of my life.  Loosing their sister has been a tough journey for them all but our family motto of "We do hard things" is being lived out every single minute of every single day and I could not be prouder, even through my ugly tears.  

Every year, I write a back to school prayer...I have started several times today but it all comes down to this...

Dear God, 

Please help us all to move beyond surviving to thriving.  Keep us safe as our sense of security has been shaken to it's core.  May my children be a blessing to those around them despite big emotions and with your help, may we keep doing hard things!