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.

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.

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!!!

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!

July 2 Eve....

Today is July 1.  I am sitting out on Keyan's deck taking some time to just be.  The pool is circulating,  our resident bluebird pair is busily flying in and out of their box talking quite loudly to one another. There is some construction noise coming from the neighbor's project.  The furniture is still damp from the morning dew.  The sun is trying to peek through the clouds and there is a gently breeze causing the wind chimes to just lightly sing.  I sense all that is around me, I hear it, feel it, and see it, and yet it is all in the background of what my brain demands of me.

Tomorrow marks the two year date of Keyan's death.  July 2 looms in the shadows starting somewhere in late April or early May and starts coming towards the forefront early June.  By mid June this year, the thoughts revolving around July 2 were screaming at me much as they are this morning.  I sat with those screams for a long while before I could put words to what was going on.  Our family was gifted an incredibly beautiful and yet heart wrenching last two weeks with our girl.  For those last two weeks, we spoke truth about what was happening, we set intentions to understanding that there were going to be no do-overs, we held vigil for hours and hours on end, we were surrounded my our most intimate group of family and friends, we swam, we made ice cream, we played basketball, we went to sports practices, we laughed, we cried, we screamed, we sat silently in disbelief.  We made sure to leave nothing unsaid, we honored Keyan's need for low stimulus and yet gathered around her the moment she was ready for any company.  We read to her, we helped her to the bathroom, we suctioned her, we sang to her, we held her hand and comforted her, we prayed that God would take her into His arms and bring her Home.

Look at the smiles all around! We were soaking her in and cementing her into our hearts.  It was amazing!

It wasn't just about July 2.  It was all the days, months and years leading up to that moment on that Sunday evening when she just didn't take another breath.  My brain has spent the last weeks replaying  all of these moments in the hope of making sense of them.  I am trying to make peace with watching one of my own, whom I fought for with every fiber of my soul, leave this earthly life.  The past several weeks have been full of fatigue, tenseness, sensitivity, confusion, not much motivation, and an unsettledness to my very being.  But why wouldn't it be that way?  We love Keyan will all of our selves so why wouldn't every part of us hurt in some way.  Just a couple days ago it finally clicked for me.  It isn't that July 2 was the only day.   It is all of the small moments beforehand too.  It is the excruciating decisions, the memories, the lifetime of smiles, the joy that she brought and the fullness that she added.  It is no wonder life feels messy in June.  It is the price we pay for the gift of those two weeks and really the gift of her life.  

Tomorrow, July 2, will come and go.  We will forever miss her and forever be grateful for those painful two weeks and the too short 12.5 years.  We are honoring her life with ice cream tomorrow.  It was the last thing that she tasted here with us...homemade mint chocolate chip.  I am sure the day will be messy...lots of emotions, lots of tears, and lots of laughs too because that is how Keyan lived her life...accepting of it all no matter what.  

Time doesn't stop

18 months....a year and a half.....547 days...and I could easily calculate the minutes, seconds, etc.  It feels like millions of breaths and endless nights since Keyan took her last breath.  Time has inevitably marched on and yet feels like it has been standing still.  I can not fathom how I have survived this long without her physical presence and still my brain struggles to face the reality.

  

Standing in the shower Christmas night with my tears streaming uncontrollably, I leaned my head on the shower wall.  It took all of my will not to start banging my head against that wall over and over again while I begged my mind to accept her death, while I willed my brain to just come to terms with it, while I fell to the shower floor gasping for breath through my sobs, pleading with myself to understand that her body is no longer here.  

Even stranger to me is that I also have to convince myself that she actually existed.  It's a twisted game your mind plays on this journey of grief, an endless cycling of questions and a need to make sense of it all.  I never dreamed I wouldn't comprehend the death of my own child.  I never imagined the complexity and the selfless love it takes to not only hand her back to Jesus but to renegotiate my relationship with her.  Choosing to really live after the death of my girl has been a choice that I sometimes have to make several times a day.  To keep breathing, to laugh, to cry, to feel pride, to feel pain, and everything in between takes a measured amount of effort when you are walking through fog.  As the numbness wears off and the reality sets in everything feels more poignant.  I could never have predicted how the pieces of my heart would continue to shatter 18 months later but I do know that I will not give up.  I will make her proud, I will carry on her legacy and every minute that I do, I have the hope of being one more minute closer to wrapping my arms around her again.

Dance Lessons....

Paul and I had our second ballroom dance lesson last night.  I wanted to share some my observations so far about this endeavor.

1. I realized over the last two weeks how little Paul and I actually look at each other.  We talk a lot, we share the same space a lot, but we are often busy with something else.  Dishes, laundry, cooking, kids, phones, work, the dog, you name it, we carry on our conversations in the midst of getting everything else done.  Even if we go to diner with just the two of us, there is the server, our meal, and plenty of other distractions to avert our attention.  That is not the case in dance.  When was the last time you spent the better part of an hour holding hands and looking into the eyes of your partner?  Our society moves at such a fast pace that we have lost the art of eye contact.  Did you know that in dance, eye contact between partners helps ground you.  When Paul lifts his hand and I spin through it, maintaining eye contact with him is what brings me back to the right spot. How powerful is that?

2. I underestimated the benefits of having something to look forward to that is just for the two of us.  My days, like most parents, are full full full.  Running kids around, getting to all of their activities, keeping the house from imploding with laundry, feeding this crew, volunteering, etc.  I pour myself into my children but the harsh truth is that I rarely reserve time for Paul and I.  We try....we really do but life happens and we skip over "us."  It felt really great to know that we had 60 minutes set aside for us and it was something besides therapy!  It gave us something to talk about, anticipate together, and keep us moving toward the goal of just making it to dance on Wednesday!  It was invaluable at a time where a lot of life is hard right now.

3. Human connection is healing.  In the first week, we moved from level one which is holding hands, to level two which is holding hands on one side and on the other side our arms are connected at the forearm.  Week two we graduated to level three...holding hands on one side and then he has his other arm around my waist and I have my other arm up by his shoulder.  In other words, we moved from 8-10 inches apart to 4-6inches.  Now, for a person like myself with personal space issues, this was exceptionally challenging.  It was apparently even noticeable to the instructor that I preferred the other levels.  He promised me I would learn to love it and asked me just to trust him.  I found that if I could settle the voices in my head, take some deep breaths, maintain that eye contact, and relax into the safety of Paul's arms, it did actually feel good.  I am head strong, stubborn, and can be fiercely independent so needing to rely on Paul is a great lesson for me and one that by the end of the hour last night I was able to do a little easier.  

4. There is beauty in being able to laugh at our mistakes together, smile through the moments that actually go right, dance to our wedding song, and hold space for our relationship.  How quickly we shove those things to the side to get through our to-do list!  I knew that dance lessons would challenge me physically and mentally, but I never dreamed that it would challenge my trust, my instincts, and some of my inner most struggles.  

So, here is my challenge to you....spend just 10-15 minutes sitting across from the significant person in your life.  Sit so you can reach out and hold both of their hands, don't fill the space by talking,  just breath each other in.  Can you do it?  For some of you, you are longing to be seen....and others of you might be the one that needs to open your heart and do the seeing....maybe it is a little of both. Try it, make a habit of it, and maybe you will learn something about yourself and that person you love so much!