Grandma

Well it has been quite a while since I last blogged.  Lots has changed with me and the world.  In the past week I have had stories about Grandma shared with me.  And I would like to share them with you.
Grandma Walters - Jared was born on her birthday in 1997 and she was 91 years old that day.  I took Jared to see her in the nursing home and she just thought he was great.  I don't really remember seeing her much as my Dad passed away when I was 8 and the family scattered like pool balls on a break.  In fact, I only remember 1 times ever going to her house as a child and I don't have any memories of her coming to our, although I know she did.  Recently I attended at funeral on my Dad's side of the family and heard stories.  My Dad's side was/is Catholic and winters in Illinois are cold, thus resulting in large families.  Several of the siblings told the same story at different times, almost identical.  How my Dad would come to their house and tell them how he wished their mom was his mom.  I thought to myself, haven't we all wished that at some point in childhood?  Well as the time went on more and more came out.  My Grandmother was cold to my Dad.  Didn't have much attention for more than one at a time.  Well that explained why my Catholic Grandmother only had 2 children.  She only had time for one son, and from what I understand that wasn't my Dad.
I began to put pieces of the family puzzle together and I have prayed about this and talked to God asking for some answers.  This is what I feel happened.  I think my father grew envious of his younger brother.  My father was known as Cookie, a nickname I understand from childhood and a girl involved...lol.   My uncle was known as Sprucy....you know why....spruced that hair back for the girls.  Well anyone that knew Cookie would tell you he had a way of knowing how to make lots of money.  They will also tell you he couldn't hold on to a penny of it.  He had a brilliant business mind, but lacked financial responsibility.  He also lacked self control with the booze and women.  I think all of this made my uncle envious of my Dad.  My Dad started a trucking company and my uncle followed by becoming a driver.  My Dad married a woman named Joann, and my uncle married a woman named Joann.  Of course my Dad divorced and married and divorced and married and was in the process of a divorce with my mother when he passed away.  I have learned that men who do these behaviors are seeking a love for themselves they never got from their mother.  Sidenote: that is why it drives me crazy right now to see all these women play the victim card about sexual harassment.  Not right, not saying that but why are they behaving that way?  Does it go back to longing for the love from a mother?  So, while I have struggled with my father's deplorable behavior when it came to women, I am now understanding it.  Don't like it, but understand it.  Grandma Walters lived a long life and her precious Sprucy was her apple in the eye.  So when my Dad would piss off his cousins by telling them he wished their mother was his mother, it was actually the best compliment he could have ever given them.  It was a child's way of saying your mom really loves you, wish mine loved me that way.  I also heard a story of one cousin letting the anger go when my father ran into their house and my great-aunt Rose held him tightly in her arms and he embraced her in a hug with no intentions of letting go.  That too was a way of a child saying, thank you for loving me - when I am not even your child.  Today my father, grandmother, and uncle all lie in the same cemetery, no where near one another.  Kind of ironic isn't it?  My father lies in the back of the cemetery near the timber flanked by friends and drinking buddies from days gone by.  My Grandmother rests next to her husband, who I never had the opportunity to meet but have a middle name in honor of him.  My uncle resides in a new part of the cemetery right up by the highway, not near the mother he had living in his home and was the favorite child of.
My Grandma DeLong - Oh Grandma DeLong was the one I knew the best and have so many memories and wisdom from.  Like the time she took me to church but I had no church clothes so she took the clothes off the Raggedy Ann Doll and dressed me in them - the Tomboy Debbie - in a dress, a Raggedy Ann dress off a doll.  I remember hiding under the pew in church where my grandparents always sat.  Next to the isle last row, so Grandpa could get to the door for greeting members.  Then that dreaded moment of children's time....off to the front pew I had to go....it was awful.  I am stilled scarred from it all.  Well since that time, I have learned a lot from that, you do with what you have and your respect the Lord's house.  So if a Raggedy Ann dress is all I have to wear today, I would do it.  Grandma came from a large family, mostly girls and one boy...feel sorry for him don't you?  Edith, Edna, Eva, Elsie, Esther, Jim.....ummmm yep that is the way it was.  My grandparent's home was always open.  You needed a place, you always knew you were welcome.  I remember one weekend when I was helping my grandmother clean her house (which I did for her every weekend after my grandfather had his stroke) and my grandmother sharing some wisdom with me.  Didn't know it was wisdom until I got older.  She said, "We can't pick our family,but we can pick the ones we claim."  GRANDMA????  My sweet, cookie baking, ornament sewing, sock darning, made from scratch everything grandma who nursed every creature possible back to health just said this?  Well flash forward many years.  I have had an appreciate for learning my family history and Jared enjoyed it as well.  In fact, I learned more through his investigations than my own.
Today I found a letter my Grandmother had written to one of her sisters who had been mean to another sister and telling lies to a doctor.  That letter was quite blunt with the way she felt and when she cursed she used _ _ _ _ _ to replace the letters...but you could tell what she was saying....lol  If the letter would be written today it would basically say you are bullying this sister with the help from that sister and the one being bullied has never said a bad word about any of you, she only cares for you and loves you all, yet you all treat her like this.  My Grandmother did not like people who would lie and she would call you out on it....even doing so to her own daughter - which is one of the reasons I have the feelings I do for her.  I saw too much first hand.
I have learned through the years all the hell my grandmother lived through.  She was raised by an uncle because her parents passed at a young age, lived a very hard life, loved my grandfather with her entire body, raised 2 children and after they were married had an - OMG moment and having a 3rd child.  I am chalking all 3 up to immaculate conception because I know my grandparents could have never had sex.  Especially when their children are grown!  She had surgeries on her legs and had to wear wraps on her legs for as long as I can remember.  It was unreal to me to see the wrappings off because her legs were so tiny and thin.  She had many health issues she battled and rarely complained.
Both my grandmothers lost a child, so we all 3 were/are Angel Moms.  Something I am sure none of us ever wanted to be.
I found this handwritten note from my grandmother to her "mean" sister and I will share it with you, and I hope it makes you think as much as I have today and find peace from it.

I Asked God "Why"

I asked God "Why did you send this cross, 

The hurt and pain and the bitter loss?"

And I found it hard not to complain,

As I sought for peace of soul again.

I asked God "why did you destine me

For such a special misery?"

And it seemed somehow that I heard Him say,

"Man does not walk an easy way.

It's the ones I love the most that I 

Send crosses to sorely try,

Remember this and know that there

Will come no grief you cannot bear.

Behold, I stand beside you in

Each sorrow 'till the very end,

Dear Little lamb stay close beside

your Shepherd 'till the eventide."

What blessed joy it was to find

His footprints ever close to mine.

He made the sadness disappear,

With words of comfort in my ear.

The pain of which I was afraid,

was lifted from me as I prayed,

Leaving such a light that I 

needed never doubt or question why.

Grace E. Easley

The Keeper

def: a person who manages or looks after something or someone.

Sports def: A player assigned to protect the goal in various sports.

One of Jared's coaches told me that he was placed in the most important position for all the team.  This position was not only to block the ball from entering but it was to observe, digest, and act as a "coach" from the field.  This position needed to be able to reassure the team he would stop any ball that had gotten past them, or in other words "he had their back".  This position was to coach and cheer on his team and motivate as this position had a better observation of the game then even the coach.  

I watched Jared closely in his position he had been given after that talk.  Being the over protective mother I was, I was concerned that was a lot of weight just put on his shoulders.  I saw him take that weight and grow stronger from it.  He learned to do exactly what the coach needed him to do and to also communicate with the coach for the coach to make better decisions.  

This week has been one hell of a week for me.  Downs, Ups, drowning, flying, exhaustion and completely helpless.  These are just a few of the emotions from this week.  

I began to think yesterday afternoon as I felt Jared's presence very strong, about the true meaning of a Keeper.  I remembered what that coach had told me.  I remembered watching Jared become a strong Keeper, both physically and mentally.  I also thought about this:  Jared is still the Keeper.  He is keeping his team going to stop "block" suicide (stop the ball).  He is putting each of us in our position on the field and putting a support system in the stands.  He is putting people at the gate collecting money to insure the team can continue to play on a level field with good lighting, and a successful outcome.  He has put the coaches in place that cheer on the team members.  He has more team members than ever before signing up to join his team.  We have a great defense!  I also thought, just as the best of the best teams out there, once in a while a ball will get past all of us.  No matter how strong our defense was/is.  So, I can scream for a minute but then, just like Jared, I have to get my head back in the game.  

Our Keepers across the US and around the world are growing in numbers, our defenses are getting stronger.  Our cheers are getting louder.  Our name is getting known.  Our mission is being heard.  Our "goals" are adding up.  

I hear often from those who knew Jared that he is proud of me and the work I am doing.  I think he is most proud of holding his team together.  See my gift to Jared pales in comparison to that he gives me each day.  He made wonderful, strong willed, determined, driven friends and he gifted them all to me.  Without them, I couldn't continue nor would I have ever started.  

I wish Jared would have taken his hurt from losing his father and done what Kelsey and I have done with ours.  He would have had all the same supporters.  

I look forward to heaven.  I really do.  I can be with Jared again and watch he and his team "God's Giants" or "Heavenly Havoc" playing some awesome soccer.  I am sure that it is the greatest place, it has to be with all the beautiful Angels that live there with God.  

Triggers

We all have "triggers" that instantly take up to happy or sad places in our lives.  It could be the smell of a cologne, perfume, flower, food, or pungent smell.  I have triggers that take me to happy and sad places as well.  The smell of dirty, stinky, sweaty, soccer.....takes me to a happy place believe it or not.  It reminds me of all the time I spent with Jared watching him do what he loved to do.
This Christmas I found a new trigger that was not pleasant at all.  In fact it brought nightmares to me.  It is a family tradition with my in-laws to watch, It's A Wonderful Life.  Didn't realize until this year how many times in one day they play the movie.  I also didn't fully recognize the plot.  Do you know it?  If you were to have asked me a couple of years ago I would say it was a Guardian Angel sent to make George understand all the blessings he has.  While that is true.....let's go to the beginning, where Gabriel was sent because George was getting ready to take his life......that is right....suicide.  I never picked that part up until this year.  Man did it come crashing down on my like a building collapsing and taking my breath away.  I tried to occupy myself with my phone playing mindless games until my battery went dead.  Then, I had to leave the room.  I could have brought it to the attention of everyone but there was a fear of doing so.  After all, I am an advocate to stop suicide, why would this silly movie get to me so much?  Well the only way I can explain it is this.  Touching someone on the arm with a new unsharpened pencil would not hurt.  Yet if I did that on the arm with an open wound it would hurt beyond words.  All holidays are open wounds when we are grieving for our loved ones.
I have had to learn many coping mechanisms to get through each day.  Some are easier than others.  I am not sure that Christmas will ever get easier.
I know that I have had many triggers and some I am able to flat out ignore before I get to the point of "out of control" with them.  As an example, the media sensationalizing suicides and homicides.  We don't need the details!  When I think there is a trigger in the article I won't read it.  Others are unavoidable.  Much like learning the breathing techniques for labor, I have had to learn how to breath for grief.  Sounds silly doesn't it?  Yet, it is true.  I have had to learn to breath at all sometimes.  I have had to learn to breath short quick breaths and slow into longer, deeper breaths to slow my heart rate down from strong emotions to keep from hyperventilating.  I have had to learn to breath with long exhales to clear my mind, emotions, and gain control over my thoughts.
For me the worst part of triggers is they can bring happiness and sadness at the same time.  Pictures do this often for me.  So many times I smile with happiness and cry with sadness at the exact same moment.
As we start a new year, I pray no parent will have to lose a child.  I pray no person will have to suffer.  I pray for peace of heart for those who are grieving.

Healing Takes Forever

Early on in my grief journey, I realized this was not going to be a "get over it quickly" type of thing.  I had a strong desire to read everything I could on grief, suicide, and the afterlife.  I came to realize quickly that this journey will not end until I take my last breath.  People have asked me how I stay strong and this is what I explain to them.

Grief is like a major surgery such as open heart surgery.  Just as in a surgery like that, one must heal in layers from the inside out.  If you try to close the opening too soon you often have infection trapped inside and you may not know it for a long period of time.  So just like that, my soul needs to heal in layers, insuring that each step I heal infection free.  Acknowledging and accepting that it will take time allows your journey of healing to begin.

Also like surgery, sometimes you have setbacks.  I have them, I acknowledge them, and I move forward from them.  Anger is one of the setbacks that upsets me the most.  I don't like anger and/or hate.  In my mind, that is exactly what made my son take his life at age 17 in spite of the fact of a promising future ahead of him.  Anger and hate toward me from his father's side of the family that he was trying to protect me from, is a hard pill to swallow.  This also goes hand in hand with guilt.  The "if only"s drive me crazy at times.  If only  he had talked to me about what he just learned, if only he would have said some thing to me, if only I had gotten up in the night to check on him, if only.......
I liken all this to the infection one may get after a surgery.  You do all you can to insure a healthy healing but sometimes things happen that we just cannot control.  However, it is important to address them when they happen and combat those infections, so you can move on healing healthy.

As each layer heals, I learn new coping methods to make it through the day, and for me the worst, night.  One of those is my Tear Bucket.  I have what I refer to as the tear bucket.  When I feel the emotions building up inside of me and I know I have to let them go before an event or gathering that I am trying to hold myself together for I empty my tear bucket.  I will simply tell my husband I need to empty my tear bucket and will head off to the bedroom where I will think of my sweet Jared and empty that bucket of tears.  Sometimes, even when not full, it will spill, but it is becoming manageable.

Learning to live without someone in your life, that has been such a part of your life for so long, is like learning how to do everything you once did minus one arm.  It is learning to live completely different.  It is learning how to do the things you once did together, differently.  It is learning how to enjoy things you once enjoyed together, differently.  It is learning how to fill a void in a healthy way.  This is just like allowing our body to grow new tissue to replace the space left by infected tissue that was removed during surgery.  If we don't allow this to happen then that void can be a breading area within us for hate and anger.  For me, I refuse to allow the emptiness left by the love I shared with my son to be filled with ugliness.  I will only allow something equally as beautiful to take that space.

Also like a major surgery, it is important to surround yourself with the best medical staff available for a successful surgery, it is equally important to surround yourself with the best support system available for proper healing from your loss.  My support system has changed and morphed during my journey.  I also know as time continues it will continue to change.  Some people I was close with before are simply casual friends and some are nothing more than a friendly hello as I meet them on the street.  Yet others that were unknown or distant acquaintances, have become extremely supportive and helpful in my healing process. This also applies to family.  Some members have had to be distanced, some completely separated, and others that was casual in our communications, have become the foundation to healthy recovery.

Also like surgery, some cannot recover.  Grief too, can take those who cannot recover.  While I make no secret that I have begged for my son to take me too, He tells me it is not my turn yet.  There is a unique cry by mother's who have lost a child.  Once you hear it, you recognize it, and pray you never hear it again.

Just as any major surgery will leave a scar, so does grief.  It is not something to cover up and hide, but rather acknowledge the existence of it, wear it as a badge of honor to the loved one you lost, and feel NO shame from it.  We only grieve for those we love, and love lasts a life time.