Monday, May 25, 2020

Realizations on Memorial Day

****If you are a facebook friend of mine, you have already read this.  I just needed it documented here because I have readers who can only see it on the blog.

Today we started out the day with a yummy brunch that Paul made for us after all sleeping in. After that, I decided to tackle organizing one of the kitchen cabinets that has been driving me crazy. It is the first thing I have organized since the Stay home, Stay safe period began. Most of my friends have organized every nook and cranny of their home but I have not. The cupboard went alright so I ventured out to the garage to tackle some shelves out there while Paul was doing some wood working.
I started by trying to just sort out the stuff that needed to be thrown away. And then, everywhere I turned, I came across Keyan’s stuff. First it was her tennis racket, and then it was her Dora umbrella, and then wheelchair parts, and then her voice amplification system, her bowling bag, and than her sand toys. I stopped, breathed really deep, forced my body to keep moving rather than collapse, and felt like I was drowning. Friends, if you know someone who has had a child die and their house is a mess, or their garage, or you wonder why they can’t pull it together almost three years later to just clean out the cubbies, the closets, the yard, or the basement or the barn, or anything else, please hear me.
We try. We try and try and then we keep coming across our dead daughters things. It feels so shitty. We work to remind ourselves of how grateful we are for the memories and for the time we had but in those moments our brain can not stay in logic mode. It suddenly feels like that is all you can see... her things that she should be using. The memories come flooding over you and overtake any progress you are making. You get angry and take it out on anyone in range. It’s terrible.
You battle through and hang up the tennis racket, blow some bubbles and hear her laughter, put the umbrella by the rest of the rain gear, save a few sand toys that you may never part with and throw some away, and you keep pushing through. Then, your husband goes to put something in the trash and comes to you with tears in his eyes and says, “I don’t know how you did it. I didn’t know you were dealing with that. Are you ok?” You yell. Not at him but at the situation. You cry because you feel both pain and frustration that things are this way. You ask if what you threw away was ok with him and say you can pull any of it back out. You feel like a hoarder. You swear in the direction of the neighbors who are laughing together as a family (not loud enough for them to hear.) You let the tears come and your body doubles over to find its breath. And you fully understand for the first time why your house is not clean and organized.

The day continued on the rollercoaster that was today. We live though it and thrived even with all of the hard because this is our life. It may not be pretty and organized but it is the one we've been given, so one moment at a time!






Sunday, April 12, 2020

Easter Sunday 2020

It is Easter Sunday today in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic.  We spent the day as a family together, like all of these pandemic days.  We missed our extended families terribly.  Paul, the dog and I went on a walk first thing this morning.  After retiring home we made parfaits that turned out very yummy!  I couldn't settle my soul so then as a family we went for a second walk down by the beach.  I was afraid it would be too busy to stay but it was actually fairly quiet and easy to observe proper social distancing.  We were all shocked at how high the water and sand are.  It is quite shocking to see.  I gave the kids the little bit of easter candy I had bought and we had a very yummy meal bought locally and all we had to do was warm it up.  I enjoyed the break from the kitchen.  We had some nice outdoor basketball time and then zoomed with Paul's family and mine..... which is always good for some laughs.

I want to let you in on a little secret.  Just yesterday, I was feeling pretty darn good about it being Easter and not too worried about how the day would play out missing Keyan.  Since Keyan died, I have said at every holiday, that it would be easier if we could just pretend that the holiday wasn't happening.  I have fantasized about a holiday where Paul and I could ignore the fact that it was happening and we could just live the day like it was a regular day.  And that was basically my plan for today.  Obviously as Christians we would celebrate the reason for the day and I had a little bit of candy for the kids, but the kids pretty much assumed that there would be no huge celebration, no egg hunt, no baskets, no fancy clothes, etc. Just a special meal and celebrating the hope that we have of eternal life thanks to Jesus rising from the dead.  SO yesterday, I told Paul that this was going to be perfect because it shouldn't trigger all of the grief that holidays normally bring and we could just have a good day together with the kids.

Boy was I wrong.  All of the holidays we have been through so far, I have fought this voice of "if only we could ignore this day" and I learned today that it isn't possible.  I woke up feeling frustrated but not being able to put words to it.  I thought a walk would help settle me, but instead it led to a fight with Paul.  Both of us feeling the pain of missing Keyan but not knowing what to do with it.  After eating some breakfast, the only thing I knew was to walk again so I drug everyone out to the beach to find the missing piece that my heart was screaming for....the beach helped a little but it didn't solve it.

Alone time and personal space is a high commodity around here during the pandemic so after putting the food in the oven, I decided to take a shower.  I turned my "grief" playlist on, (yes, that is a thing that mom's whose kids have died have) and I turned the water on as hot as I could stand it.  I was searching for something to cause me pain other than my heartache.  Before I knew it, I was grabbing handfuls of my hair and pulling it hard over and over again while my tears were washed off my face by the scalding water.  The pain of not having my Keyan physically with me was so intense.  The thought of all the easter hunts that she loved, the pain of every damn minute of this pandemic family time without her, and even the thought that she is singing with angels in the majestic awe of heaven just made me crumble.

I stood crying and searching for an outlet for a long long time. And then I fell to the floor of the bathtub and pushed my body hard against the surface of the tub....the very tub that she spent hours and hours in until her organ failure took that joy from her.  I envisioned my pores opening up and soaking her essence in.  Two years and nine months since she went home and I couldn't find my way.   I needed to just let it out.  Before I was ready, dinner was done and I knew I needed to pull myself together for the sake of my family who IS here on this earth with me.  I got dressed through tears, held onto Paul through tears, and prayed for our meal through those same tears.

This my friends is mourning.  This is how the holidays feel for me every single time.  Painful, lonely, heartbroken, traumatic, and hard.  There is no rainbow ending to the day....just trying to breath through it until it is over.  Tomorrow will feel better...today I will just survive.

Keyan, what I wouldn't give to have dad hide 100 eggs so that you could go find them.  What I wouldn't give to find the right books, movies, and toys instead of candy for you.  What I wouldn't give to hear your laugh and watch you declare yourself the winner fo the egg hunt.  What I wouldn't give to hear you yell "mommy" from the potty.  I asked God to give you an extra special hug from us here and I know you are having an absolutely amazing day celebrating in heaven.  I love you and miss you more than I can express.





Thursday, April 2, 2020

Feeling it ALL



Somehow, even in the midst of a global pandemic, the second of the month rolls around without fail.  If it is anything, it is consistent, as well as the feelings that it brings up.  April 2 marks 2 years and 9 months that our Keyan has been in her heavenly home. I find it incredibly hard to wrap my mind around the fact that we are rounding the corner on three years without her in our physical presence.  

This pandemic that is COVID-19 is bringing up so much loss.  Not only are people dying from this virus but every single person has had life changing shifts.  In some respects, I feel like mourning Keyan has prepared my family and I for some of the grief that comes with the loss of what we thought life was.  In other ways, I want to scream and say "Enough!  Give us all a break!"  I know many many people are feeling the same thing.  

The forced family time has been such a gift.  Jamahl is a senior and will presumedly be headed off to college in the fall.  Our household has spent lots and lots of time over the last year doing our best to sort out how we all feel about that.  The gift of time with him right now does not go unnoticed by any of us.  I watch our girls learning new games and trying new activities just to do it with their big brother.  What was supposed to be a spring where I was coaching the girls through the high school water polo season and Jamahl was running his senior track season....meals and family time spent in the car between events, has now become time to just soak each other in.  We are creating forever memories living through this time together.  We all take turns feeling grumpy about missing our jobs, our friends, our sports, our extended family, and the crazy schedules...and we all need some alone time from time to time, but for the most part, we are cherishing the slower pace and time together.

But the same thing that brings me so much joy is what rubs my raw grief.  All of this family time just screams how much she is not here. Keyan would have LOVED all of this "at home" time.  Her best days ever were staying in her jammies and being with her siblings at home.  She would have read SO many books, watched so much Disney channel and Netflix, and played a million games of Uno.  Her absence is so loud right now.  

I think for the better part of almost three years we have missed her immensely but our lives have still been happening.  In the quiet times at home or in the loud stands of a swim meet I have moments of agony at how my heart feels like it doesn't beat right without her.  But the life of a mom with four teenagers in the house is busy and some of that lends itself to distraction.  I purposely spent the first 2 years after Keyan died proclaiming that my job was "mourning Keyan and feeling all that came with that."  I sat with it, focused a lot of energies on working with the complexities of her life and death.  This previous fall I made a very purposeful decision to work part time so that my brain had something else to spin on besides missing Keyan.  My teaching job has been the ultimate blessing and gift that I feel is directly from God and Keyan because I find her in my school days all of the time.  Now, I find myself with time that forces us all to realize that our family of 6 never feels right.  We will always be a family of 7 and I will forever and ever be the mom to 5 kids; quadruplets and a big brother.  That is who we are.  Team Hogan is made up of an intricate balance of the lives we have led with each other.  Team Hogan is feeling the pull of our missing MVP right now more than ever.  The difficulty and grief that this virus brings is compounded by the family time never feeling in full balance.

So today, April 2, 2020, I am not going to find the sunshiny spin on this.  I am not going to talk about how much worse it could be and I am not going to attempt to quiet the screaming inside of me.  I am going to feel it.  I had a virtual therapy session where much of it was spent just crying.  I will let my tears flow during dinner missing leaving her spot open and desperately wishing that I was disconnecting her from her TPN in the midst of getting dinner on the table. I will feel the anger at the unfairness of the situation and I will feel the terror that trauma could come knocking at any time.  If Keyan dying has taught me anything it is that the only way around is through.  Through the muck and the mire I will stay on this course of feeling so that I can honor my girl by living with this pain and pure joy.

Paul and I caught the end of a Garth Brooks concert being televised by our local PBS channel.  I do not think it was coincidence that the only song we heard in its entirety was "The Dance" I truly am thankful for understanding the meaning of  "I could have missed the pain, but I'd of had to miss the dance." Even on the second of this month, I would never have wanted to miss the Dance Keyan.  We love you and we miss you and we are clinging to the hope of dancing with you again.  



Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared beneath the stars above 

For a moment all the world was right 

How could I have known you'd ever say goodbye 

And now I'm glad I didn't know 

The way it all would end the way it all would go 
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain 
But I'd have to miss the dance 
Holding you I held everything 
For a moment wasn't I the king 
But if I'd only known how the king would fall 
Hey who's to say you know I might have changed it all 
And now I'm glad I didn't know 
The way it all would end the way it all would go 
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain 
But I'd of had to miss the dance 
Yes my life is better left to chance 
I could have missed the pain but I'd of had to miss the dance

Sunday, February 2, 2020

02-02-2020

I awoke this morning with a heaviness in my chest.  I struggled to take a deep breath and felt panicked.  Throughout the morning I found myself short of breath and anxious no matter how I tried to push back the feelings.  Finally, I stopped fighting it all and gave in to the emotions that today brings.  Yes, it is Super Bowl Sunday and our favorite team isn't playing.  Yes, the date is a palindrome date that we haven't seen in some insane amount of years.   For me though, today is February 2, and it is a Sunday; 31 months since we sat beside Keyan's bed and watched God welcome her into her forever home.

No matter how hard I try to just skim over the second of every month, my brain is like a fire alarm that feels the extra heat of my emotions and it rings loudly every single month.  It isn't just once a month, it is also every single Sunday.  Every week, the day brings more acute feelings in this journey and I am forced to pause and feel it or the day spirals out of control.  So today feels like a double whammy so to speak.

Thirty one months is hard to comprehend.  I find looking at pictures easier than I once did.  My heartache has changed since those early days from a sharp stabbing pain to a constant dull ache.  Life requires that I am able to put all those messy feelings on a shelf every now and again so that I can make dinner for my family, teach, cheer on my kids at their stuff, and live this life in front of me.  My time spent on the bathroom floor curled up in my tears and emotions get further and further apart and yet when I do find myself there, it is a deeper and more raw feeling that it once was.  I can not let my grief overcome me on a day to day basis but when it does it is paralyzing for a those moments and the reality is that it isn't only on Sundays or the 2nd of the month....it can be any moment or any day.  Missing her is still catching me off guard sometimes and it is still hard to understand how she was once physically here with us, requiring so much of my time and energy.  I miss that to my core. I miss her absence in my day to day life.

Her absence is still so huge.  She impacted me in so many ways that those holes will never be filled, nor do I want them to be.  My heart carries her with me with every beat and I am grateful to feel her in the middle of our crazy busy life filled with our crazy messy emotions. Today will be what it is going to be. It will be hard at times and good at times and even arduous and hopeful at the same time; feeling it instead of running from it moves me through it and I will endure and thrive despite the pain it brings....and the sun is shining!  What a gift for today!



I will never forget the joy and the pain in this picture.  I remember feeling at the time that God was preparing our hearts to walk her home.



That fateful morning 31 months ago.

Thursday, January 2, 2020

30 months...or 2.5 years



January 2, 2020 marks the 30 month point.  It has been 2 and a half years since we held Keyan's hand as she arrived to her eternal home.  I have survived the latest round of holidays.  Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years....they come fast and furious one right after the other and the mourning that they bring with them is monumental at times.  Lots of tears, lots of remembering, and lots of struggling through family times that never feel settled into without her here.  New Years eve I was running some last minute errands and heard this song.  It is title "Why God" and the song sums up a lot of how I currently feel.  "Why God, did you have to call her home so soon?" "Why God, did you chose us to walk this path of loss?"  "Why God, could we not have had her for longer?" "Why God, does my heart feel as though it has shattered into tiny pieces that will never fit together again and be whole?"  "Why God, did you put my other kids through this?" "Why US God?" "Why God, do I have to watch the man I love and the children I birthed struggle with the messiness of mourning?" Why God, do you test our marriage with this trial?"  "Why God, Why take her from me?"  The song is a simple one, with such a big message!  I am questioning and wrestling with the "Whys" but I am thankful for the strength to keep moving through.


What I wouldn't give to be up all night long taking care of her.  Two and a half years into this journey and I long with all that I am to hold her, stroke her hand, braid her hair, help her to the bathroom, listen to her laugh at her brother, watch her play with her sisters, capture her looking with love and awe at her Daddy, or snuggle in bed with her and just soak her in.  That isn't how our story was written though, so until the day that I embrace her in heaven, I will keep trudging on waiting for her rainbows and asking God the hard questions.

Thursday, October 31, 2019

This Halloween day

The weather here in Michigan on this Halloween day is dark, dreary, rainy, cold, sleeting, snowing and just plan gross...which actually matches my mood quite well.  Halloween is a rough day for me because Keyan always loved celebrating anything, especially holidays.  She would talk with her siblings for  months about what everyone was going to dress up as and the excitement built as the day neared.


The weather today also makes things a little harder today because weather like this is exactly why we always had a party at our house.  Keyan could not be outside in wether like this so we always brought the fun inside.  We played games, ate spooky food, and even trick-or-treated throughout our house.  Everyone dressed up and enjoyed the festivities.  Sometimes it was just family and other years friends joined us too. Occasionally, the weather would cooperate and we would go to a few neighborhood houses.  Long before the days of teal and blue pumpkins, our neighbors would have a special bag set aside for Keyan since she couldn't eat the treats.  And oh the fun she always had selling the candy she did get to her Poppie and nurses.  She was a tough sell and always charged more for the snickers and Reese's peanut butter cups because she knew those were the buyers favorites!  She would sit right in the middle of the living room with all the other kids oohing and ahhhing over what she had received in her bucket.  Her eyes would light up counting all of her loot from the night.  


As I sit in her room and think about what today would look like if she were still physically with us, I wonder if we would still have our party.  I wonder if the other kids sports practices and homework would win out and we would just buy some extra treats and call it a night? I think that she and Abby would have come up with some crazy costume for her...Abby was always to the rescue when mom hadn't really done a great job of preparing!  I wonder if this would have ben the year that I could have convinced them to do a group costume?  I wonder if Keyan would have wanted to dress up as something that would have made dealing with her tubes and backpack all the more difficult.  We certainly dealt with getting creative over the years in dealing with equipment!  There has been very little talk of costumes this year which brings about both relief and sadness.  Would Keyan have helped make the spooky treats for the party or just laid in her bed playing games on her iPad? 



 I hate not knowing.  I hate the wonder and the questioning that it brings.  I hate that she isn't here....have I said that enough?  I HATE THAT SHE ISN'T PHYSICALLY HERE!  This is our third Halloween without Keyan in the mix.  I got to have lunch with a special friend who is walking this grief journey as well, I went to therapy, I bought a bunch of candy for our kids, I will coach a short practice, and then I will tuck myself into home and give myself permission to feel all that this day brings. I will hold space for the moments when I wish this wasn't my reality.






  I have so many many moments that I long to hug her, to hold her, to hear her laugh, to touch her soft hands and to make all sorts of accommodations for her.  My  tears and messy emotions are all part of healing the wounds that my heart will forever carry.  Here is the beautiful thing though....because this is our third Halloween since Keyan died I know I will make it to tomorrow.  I know that feeling the pain of today will actually make tomorrow better and that this day is really not much different than any other.  Yes, the sting of missing her may be a tad sharper today because of the holiday but I fight my tears, and all of those wanting to scream moments every single day and yet I am living. I am building a life that she is smack dab in the middle of and I am proud to be at this point in the journey.

This was one of the years that it was nice enough to be outside for a little bit!  She loved being warm in that bright orange pumpkin costume!  


 And this was the picture that turned my tears to laughs this afternoon....oh the chaos of four babies at once!!!  Living proof that it was a disaster much of the time but I am so thankful it was ours!!!


Tuesday, August 27, 2019

And away they go...

The air was thick in our house this morning as everyone was feeling so many things.  Plenty of nerves, some excitement, a little grumbling about summer being over, and lots of last minute big brother advice.  The girls have walked thru their schedules numerous times, met their teachers last night , and meticulously planned what to wear for the first day of their freshman year.  Jamahl went to water polo practice instead of walk thru night, made sure he had a few school supplies ready, and picked out his favorite swim shirt....ready to start his senior year!

At least there were smiles all around!!!

Look at those HUGE backpacks.....full of everything they need for a day of school, sports, and other after school activities!

Dear God,
These kiddos are such a treasure...thanks so much for giving these specific kids to us.  We have had a great summer with lots of laughs, growth, college talk, a little bit of traveling, and lots of sports.  It went way too fast but we have tried to soak it all in.  As they head into this school year keep them safe.  Give them people who reach out to them, even if just with a smile and put the right people in their path to encourage and guide them.  May they look out for the kids who need a friend or don't have anyone to sit with.  Help them be brave, less anxious, and to build relationships that help hold them up.  
I know it goes without saying God, but please give our Keyan an extra hug from all of us today.  Milestones like these always make the emptiness a little more tangible and we are all feeling it.  We know she would have loved so much about going into high school but there would have been so much hard for her too.  All of us are thankful that she doesn't have to face the hard stuff any longer but what we wouldn't give to see her red wheelchair in those hallways.  She is missed in such ginormous ways God, please help ease that pain for us all today.


So much of my heart is in that van...all together heading off for new adventures!  Here is to a fantastic year!