"Something is over. In the deepest levels of my existence something is finished, done. My life is divided into before and after.... Especially in places where he and I were together this sense of something being over washes over me." - Lament for a Son, by Nicholas Wolterstorf
It's amazing how certain things in life actually draw a line between a before and after. Upon reading the statement by Nicholas Wolterstorf, "My life is divided into before and after," I reflected on what that meant and have determined that these are "defining moments". These are the instances where my life literally changed completely, in a matter of minutes. While there have been many gradual changes in my life when I have grown and learned and changed along the way, there have been very few "defining moments". For example, marriage is something that is slowly worked into (and for me it was very slow). There was a very long dating time, then a long engagement and then marriage. Both, before and after the wedding date, Mike and I were growing and changing together. On the day of our wedding our lives didn't completely turn a huge corner, but rather is was a gradual shift, one we worked up to. This is how most of my life has been.
So, what are my "defining moments"? There are actually only two: the day Austin was born and the day Austin died. The interesting thing is they are in increments of twenty-two years. I was twenty-two years old when Austin was born. Then, twenty-two years later, I was one month shy of my 44th birthday when Austin died. I don't think there is actually anything significant in these years, but rather find it ironic.
Defining Moment #1: Austin's Birth
Why was Austin's birth a defining moment for me? It is because he was my first born and no matter how much you prepare for that first child, your life is rocked when he is born. Not in a bad way, but in a beautiful way. My life had always been "all about me", until Austin arrived, and in a matter of seconds it was no longer about me, but rather about this little bundle of love. Nothing could have prepared me for the joy this little boy would bring.
Defining Moment #2: Austin's Death
Need I say more. In a matter of seconds my life turned upside down. Instead of something beautiful being added to my life, part of me was torn away, leaving a gaping hole. Prior to Austin's death I would smile as I thought of how he was growing into a beautiful young man. Today, the thought that I will never see Austin celebrate another Christmas or birthday, never celebrate his getting married and becoming a father, never again hear his voice and feel his hugs is heart-wrenching. Nothing could have prepared me for this.
"The burying of one's child is a wrenching alteration of expectations.... A child comes into the world weak and vulnerable. From the first minutes of its life, we protect it.... It begins to display feelings and thoughts and choices of its own. We celebrate those and out of our own way of being-of-the-world try to shape and direct and guide them.... We take it on ourselves to stay with this helpless infant all the way so that it has a future, a future in which we can delight in its delight and sorrow in its sorrows. Our plans and hopes and fears are plans and hopes and fears for it. Along the way we experience the delights and disappointments of watching that future take shape, from babblings to oratory, from flounderings to climbing, from dependence to equality. And now he's gone. That future which I embraced to myself has been destroyed. He slipped out of my arms. For twenty-five years I guarded and sustained and encouraged him with these hands of mine, helping him to grow and become a man of his own. Then he slipped out and was smashed." - Lament for a Son, by Nicholas Wolterstorff
Nothing could have prepared me for this, so what do I do? The same thing I did when Austin was born and I was entering uncharted waters, I take it one step at a time. Hmmm... I wonder what defining moments the next 22 years will bring?
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Giving Thanks...
"We can always find something to be thankful for, and there may be reasons why we ought to be thankful for even those dispensations which appear dark and frowning." - Albert Barnes
thanksgiving: (noun) (1) the act of giving thanks (2) a prayer expressing gratitude (3) a public acknowledgment or celebration of divine goodness.
Tomorrow will be very different than any Thanksgiving I have ever celebrated, because it will be bittersweet. Bitter, because Austin is gone. Bitter, because I miss him with all my being. But sweet, because of the love I have experienced from so many people. And so, although this year has brought much sadness to our family and everyone that was touched by Austin, it has also brought many gifts that I am thankful for. As I go through the day, tomorrow, I will try to focus on those gifts...
"Gratitude is our most direct line to God... If we take the time, no matter how crazy and troubled we feel, we can find something to be thankful for. The more we seek gratitude, the more reason... will give us for gratitude and joy to exist in our lives." - Terry Lynn TaylorI am thankful for Austin: I could fill a book with the wonderful memories Austin has left me with. Not a day goes by that something doesn't happen that brings a smile to my heart as I think, "Austin would have gotten a kick out that...", Austin would have loved this...", "That is so Austin...", "Oh, I can just hear Austin now...", "Austin would never let you live that one down...", or "I can picture Austin doing that now...".
The gift of having Austin, as my son, for over 21 years is more than many ever experience in a life time. And although he is no longer here with me, his spirit lives on in the friends he blessed us with.
I am thankful for Austin's friends: Wow! Austin truly knew how to pick his friends... I am blown away by how his friends have reached out to our family...we couldn't have made it through these difficult times without them. Some friends we've had the honor of knowning since Austin's elementary school years, others we met when he brought them to Massachusetts for a visit, a few we met the past couple years when we were back in New York, and a handful have been since his parting. But there is one thing in common with all of them - they have beautiful hearts and have shared them with us...and in the process become our friends. What a wonderful gift - thank you! (And thank you Austin for sharing your friends with us...)
I am thankful for my friends: Talking about beautiful hearts - I feel so fortunate to have so many wonderful friends. I knew this before Austin's accident, but was made even more aware of it in the days, weeks, and months to follow. Austin always felt welcomed by our friends, whether it was the ones in NY or here in MA, and I cannot begin to express how much that meant to me. As I have walked this interesting journey, these past five months, I have not been alone. How much easier it is to weather difficult times when accompanied by the gift of friendship. Thank you...
I am thankful for my family: I have always felt fortunate to have the family I have - and it's been proven once again - they will be there for me when I need them. From the minute we got the devastating news my family was there - being patient as I planned Austin's service and respecting what Mike and I wanted. And now today, even though most of my family is six hours or more from us, I know they are just a phone call away. I am blessed with the gift of family and love. Thank you...
I am thankful for my younger two boys: It is amazing, even at ten and twelve years old, how Wes and Matt have handled losing their brother - the one they looked up to and idolized (and still do) - and how they have put up with seeing tears streaming down their mom's face. Sometimes they come over and give me a hug, other times we all laugh, especially when it's because of a song we hear on the radio. They are not afraid to talk about Austin - how refreshing. What a beautiful give to be able to remember the times they shared with their big brother.
I am thankful for the joy they continue to have, despite their loss, and for the laughter they bring to the home. My heart warms as I watch each of them, being so different from the other, being who God made them to be. I am blessed! So thank you...
I am thankful for my husband, Mike: When we made our vows 16 years ago, saying "for better or worse", who would have fathomed that this would be part of the worse. Mike has been patient as I deal with the loss in a much different way than he does. And although he doesn't understand my way, he has given me room. Yes, the two of us grieve very differently, and often have to remind ourselves that each way is ok , but through it we have grown stronger and closer. So thank you...
"Be thankful for each new challenge, because it will build your strength and character." - Author Unknown, from Be Thankful
Happy Thanksgiving..."Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow." - Melody Beattie
Thursday, November 18, 2010
I'm Doing Well
I'm doing well... I smile, to myself, every time I say those three words to someone. Why? Because I wonder if people saw me all day long would they think, "Is she really doing well?" And the funny thing is, despite the tears that still come daily and the missing of Austin, I really am doing very well.
How do I know this? I simply look back at the progress I have made over the past four plus months and know - I'm doing well. I look at this week and can honestly say, "Yep, I'm doing well, because this week..."
... I drove Austin's car with a smile. A month ago, every time I drove Austin's car tears would stream down my face, as I thought about how much he loved his car. I would reminisce about the day I went with him to check the car out. It was a beautiful, sunny fall day. Austin took the car for a test drive and I could tell immediately that he wanted it. It was exactly what he had been looking for - a Subaru Impreza. He did a little wheeling and dealing with the owner - who kept commenting on how excited she was that Austin was buying the car. She hated parting with it, but was so pleased that he was the one purchasing it. Although she had just met Austin, she could tell he would love it the way she did. If only she knew it would see a little "mudding" once it was in his hands.
Austin had to head back to New York early the next day, so I made arrangements for me to pick it up later that week. It had been a while since I had driven standard and as I hopped in the front seat and put it in gear, I realized I was on a hill (heading uphill with a car directly behind me). It must have been an interesting sight as I peeled out of the parking spot, obviously not use to driving a standard and praying that I wouldn't roll backwards and hit the two lovebirds standing outside the car behind me. Good thing Austin was back in NY, otherwise he would have had fun busting on my smooth driving skills. Later that evening I called him to let him know I had the car and had broken in the clutch for him - I could hear his smile. This week, as I drove the car, I smiled, remembering how much he loved the car and how happy he was the day it became his. (I also smiled when I looked down at the speedometer to see I was going 50mph in a 35mph zone - oops! I quickly slowed down.) - I am making progress...
... I didn't cry as I shared with someone that I had three sons, but one was no longer with us. I think this is the first time that I have been able to do it without getting a catch in the throat or having tears fall. Soon after Austin died, I remember thinking, "What an awkward situation it is going to be when I meet someone and they ask how many children I have. How do I answer that?" Almost immediately, I knew my answer would always be, "I have 3 sons." If they then proceeded to ask their ages, I would share with them the ages of my younger 2 boys, and then also that my oldest son had passed away. I know it may make some people uncomfortable, but I could never not include Austin.
The fact that Austin is my son will never change. The only difference is that he is now in heaven rather than here with me. When people ask how many grandparents I have, I always respond that I have one grandfather who is still living, and my other 3 grandparents have passed away. Why would it be any different with my own children? Sometimes I will say this easily, other times I'll choke up. Today I did it calmly - I am making progress...
... I painted Austin's room and walked away refreshed. This past spring Austin and I had picked out paint for "his" room. We bought two gallons and then decided we should paint a test swatch on the wall, to see how it would look. Because it was going over a very light pink wall the swatch looked a little off. We looked at each other and said, "Hmmm... looks a little like a baby's messy diaper color... Guess we should have done a test swatch before buying two gallons - oh well, hopefully it will look better once the pink isn't showing through and all the walls are done." My goal was then to get the room painted before Austin visited us this summer... obviously, that never happened - Austin never made it back to Massachusetts.
I have always loved painting and find it very relaxing. It's a great time of listening to music, while thinking of and reflecting on life. At least it was, until Austin's accident. After he died, the very thought of painting made me uneasy, giving me a panicky feeling. Thoughts would come to mind, such as, "There's no way I can deal with that much quiet time, with only my music and thoughts, especially when I'm painting Austin's room. This was supposed to be a happy time, getting ready to surprise him on his next visit. Now it's one of those 'would have been' moments. I just don't know if I can do it. Not now. Some day, but not now."
Well, this week, that 'some day' came, with a little encouragement from my husband. It took me two hours to paint one wall, mostly because I am so particular with the edging. As the music played in the background, my mind wandered to thoughts of Austin. Of course, it was encouraged by the many songs that were either ones Austin liked or ones that reminded me of him. Tears came. Tears dried. The quietness that I had thought would be too much was actually just what I needed - a time to reflect and remember. A time to say "good-bye" a little bit more.
Wednesday, I painted two more walls. This time I did not have the music playing, but rather listened to a radio talk show. I would smile as I listened to the topics, which were ones I knew Austin would get riled up over and definitely have an opinion or comment on. Not one tear came while I was painting. My mind was elsewhere, being distracted by the topics of conversation on the radio, and when I thought of Austin it was with a peace - and it was good.
Of course, after I finished those two walls and looked at the room, I did cry. I cried because it wasn't the baby poop color the small sample spot had looked like - it was exactly the color Austin had hoped it would be. I could just hear him commenting on how nice it looked. I am sorry he couldn't have been here with me, to enjoy and admire it.
Today, I painted the final wall. I can't wait to put the pictures up and make it complete. I had been dreading the painting - had been procrastinating because I was afraid of the emotions it might stir up. I didn't know if I could get through it - but I did. And in the process I healed a little more - I am making progress ...
... I am starting to come alive again. I have always loved rearranging rooms, painting them new colors, moving furniture, changing the pictures on the walls, and decorating (just a little) for the different seasons. I love flowers and plants and get a warm, peaceful feeling as I take in their beauty. Well, I did, until Austin's accident. After his death, I couldn't stand the thought of decorating a room or fixing up my garden. At times I even felt as though I was betraying Austin if I allowed small things to gave me joy and pleasure, thinking, "I would trade all of that in if I could get Austin back."
I know I can't get Austin back and it's silly thinking that I shouldn't feel joy - Austin would not want me, or any of his familly and friends, to stop living and enjoying life. I also know, that slowly, as I heal, I will start to enjoy the little things in life again. Today, after painting, as I was putting things back in order in Austin's room, and as I switched a couple pictures around in other parts of the house (one of them of Austin on his dirt bike), I found myself smiling and enjoying the beauty again - I am making progress...
... The chest tightening is subsiding. Today, as I thought about the fact that Austin will never be with us again, tears spilled from my eyes. But, I didn't feeling a vice-grip tightening in the middle of my upper chest that usually accompanies those thoughts. There was still a lump in the throat, but the chest was relaxed. Yet, another sign of a new season on its way, that I am healing - I am making progress...
But what is healing? I think it's being able to enjoy life, even while missing Austin. I am starting to get a glimpse of this. It will come and go - wave by wave (see earlier blog) - but it's refreshing to feel a lightening of my spirit... So how am I doing?
I am doing well...
How do I know this? I simply look back at the progress I have made over the past four plus months and know - I'm doing well. I look at this week and can honestly say, "Yep, I'm doing well, because this week..."
... I drove Austin's car with a smile. A month ago, every time I drove Austin's car tears would stream down my face, as I thought about how much he loved his car. I would reminisce about the day I went with him to check the car out. It was a beautiful, sunny fall day. Austin took the car for a test drive and I could tell immediately that he wanted it. It was exactly what he had been looking for - a Subaru Impreza. He did a little wheeling and dealing with the owner - who kept commenting on how excited she was that Austin was buying the car. She hated parting with it, but was so pleased that he was the one purchasing it. Although she had just met Austin, she could tell he would love it the way she did. If only she knew it would see a little "mudding" once it was in his hands.
Austin had to head back to New York early the next day, so I made arrangements for me to pick it up later that week. It had been a while since I had driven standard and as I hopped in the front seat and put it in gear, I realized I was on a hill (heading uphill with a car directly behind me). It must have been an interesting sight as I peeled out of the parking spot, obviously not use to driving a standard and praying that I wouldn't roll backwards and hit the two lovebirds standing outside the car behind me. Good thing Austin was back in NY, otherwise he would have had fun busting on my smooth driving skills. Later that evening I called him to let him know I had the car and had broken in the clutch for him - I could hear his smile. This week, as I drove the car, I smiled, remembering how much he loved the car and how happy he was the day it became his. (I also smiled when I looked down at the speedometer to see I was going 50mph in a 35mph zone - oops! I quickly slowed down.) - I am making progress...
... I didn't cry as I shared with someone that I had three sons, but one was no longer with us. I think this is the first time that I have been able to do it without getting a catch in the throat or having tears fall. Soon after Austin died, I remember thinking, "What an awkward situation it is going to be when I meet someone and they ask how many children I have. How do I answer that?" Almost immediately, I knew my answer would always be, "I have 3 sons." If they then proceeded to ask their ages, I would share with them the ages of my younger 2 boys, and then also that my oldest son had passed away. I know it may make some people uncomfortable, but I could never not include Austin.
The fact that Austin is my son will never change. The only difference is that he is now in heaven rather than here with me. When people ask how many grandparents I have, I always respond that I have one grandfather who is still living, and my other 3 grandparents have passed away. Why would it be any different with my own children? Sometimes I will say this easily, other times I'll choke up. Today I did it calmly - I am making progress...
... I painted Austin's room and walked away refreshed. This past spring Austin and I had picked out paint for "his" room. We bought two gallons and then decided we should paint a test swatch on the wall, to see how it would look. Because it was going over a very light pink wall the swatch looked a little off. We looked at each other and said, "Hmmm... looks a little like a baby's messy diaper color... Guess we should have done a test swatch before buying two gallons - oh well, hopefully it will look better once the pink isn't showing through and all the walls are done." My goal was then to get the room painted before Austin visited us this summer... obviously, that never happened - Austin never made it back to Massachusetts.
I have always loved painting and find it very relaxing. It's a great time of listening to music, while thinking of and reflecting on life. At least it was, until Austin's accident. After he died, the very thought of painting made me uneasy, giving me a panicky feeling. Thoughts would come to mind, such as, "There's no way I can deal with that much quiet time, with only my music and thoughts, especially when I'm painting Austin's room. This was supposed to be a happy time, getting ready to surprise him on his next visit. Now it's one of those 'would have been' moments. I just don't know if I can do it. Not now. Some day, but not now."
Well, this week, that 'some day' came, with a little encouragement from my husband. It took me two hours to paint one wall, mostly because I am so particular with the edging. As the music played in the background, my mind wandered to thoughts of Austin. Of course, it was encouraged by the many songs that were either ones Austin liked or ones that reminded me of him. Tears came. Tears dried. The quietness that I had thought would be too much was actually just what I needed - a time to reflect and remember. A time to say "good-bye" a little bit more.
Wednesday, I painted two more walls. This time I did not have the music playing, but rather listened to a radio talk show. I would smile as I listened to the topics, which were ones I knew Austin would get riled up over and definitely have an opinion or comment on. Not one tear came while I was painting. My mind was elsewhere, being distracted by the topics of conversation on the radio, and when I thought of Austin it was with a peace - and it was good.
Of course, after I finished those two walls and looked at the room, I did cry. I cried because it wasn't the baby poop color the small sample spot had looked like - it was exactly the color Austin had hoped it would be. I could just hear him commenting on how nice it looked. I am sorry he couldn't have been here with me, to enjoy and admire it.
Today, I painted the final wall. I can't wait to put the pictures up and make it complete. I had been dreading the painting - had been procrastinating because I was afraid of the emotions it might stir up. I didn't know if I could get through it - but I did. And in the process I healed a little more - I am making progress ...
... I am starting to come alive again. I have always loved rearranging rooms, painting them new colors, moving furniture, changing the pictures on the walls, and decorating (just a little) for the different seasons. I love flowers and plants and get a warm, peaceful feeling as I take in their beauty. Well, I did, until Austin's accident. After his death, I couldn't stand the thought of decorating a room or fixing up my garden. At times I even felt as though I was betraying Austin if I allowed small things to gave me joy and pleasure, thinking, "I would trade all of that in if I could get Austin back."
I know I can't get Austin back and it's silly thinking that I shouldn't feel joy - Austin would not want me, or any of his familly and friends, to stop living and enjoying life. I also know, that slowly, as I heal, I will start to enjoy the little things in life again. Today, after painting, as I was putting things back in order in Austin's room, and as I switched a couple pictures around in other parts of the house (one of them of Austin on his dirt bike), I found myself smiling and enjoying the beauty again - I am making progress...
... The chest tightening is subsiding. Today, as I thought about the fact that Austin will never be with us again, tears spilled from my eyes. But, I didn't feeling a vice-grip tightening in the middle of my upper chest that usually accompanies those thoughts. There was still a lump in the throat, but the chest was relaxed. Yet, another sign of a new season on its way, that I am healing - I am making progress...
But what is healing? I think it's being able to enjoy life, even while missing Austin. I am starting to get a glimpse of this. It will come and go - wave by wave (see earlier blog) - but it's refreshing to feel a lightening of my spirit... So how am I doing?
I am doing well...
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
IS THAT ANGER?
Ever since Austin died, several people have asked, "Have you been angry yet?" Or they will state, "You may have not been angry yet, but be prepared, because you will at some point in time. It's part of grieving."
I would have to differ with them, regarding the statement about anger being part of grieving. Anger may be part of grieving for many, but not for all. In fact, everyone goes through the "stages" of grief in their own way, in their own time. And, some skip over areas completely.
Are You Angry?
When I think about whether I've been angry my answer comes quickly, "No, what am I suppose to be angry at?"
Am I suppose to be angry at Austin? Maybe, but I'm not, not even for a moment. I have never thought, "Austin, how could you leave us?" What I have thought is, "Austin, I am so sad you are gone and I miss you so very, very much." Because I do. He did not leave us on purpose. He did not head out Thursday morning for work thinking, "I'm going to crash my motorcycle today and die." I'm pretty sure the thought never crossed his mind, as he was driving to work on a beautiful, sunny morning, looking forward to going to Watkins Glen to build a stand for Dinosaur BBQ (his all time favorite restaurant). No, I'm not, nor ever have been, mad at Austin.
Am I suppose to be angry with God? Maybe, but I'm not. I have asked Him why he let Austin die. But I have never been mad at Him. God has never told us that we will live forever. He has never promised how long we will each live. What He has told us is that there will be troubles in this life, but that He will be there for us. He has given me strength to get through even my saddest days. There are times I have asked when will it stop, and informed Him that I am tired and ready for this sadness to end. I know it will eventually, but patience has never been one of my strong suits.
Am I suppose to be angry at the EMTs or hospital personnel? Maybe, but I'm not. I am certain each one of them did everything possible to save Austin. Unfortunately, sometimes there are injuries that cannot be fixed. I cannot imagine being a nurse, doctor, or medic and watching someone slip away, even while you're doing everything humanly possible to stop it.
No, I am not angry at anyone for Austin's death. Just very, very sad.
With that being said, what I have found myself doing, over the past couple of weeks, is having less and less patience for things that had already bothered me, even prior to Austin's death. I find myself getting "angry" at people for behaving in manners that I feel actually hurt others. My heart starts pounding, my body tenses, and I have to do everything in my power not to turn to them and say or ask, "Really? Are you really acting like this? Why?" or "Stop! Please, just stop!"
Faith and Love
Most who know me, know I have a strong faith. I believe in God and try to follow Him. And I believe that we need to love and accept others as they are. It is not our job to change them, just to love them - the same way we want to be loved. (The one exception, of course, is if you're a parent - then it's your job to teach, guide, and discipline your child. But, you really can't change them. You don't have a magic wand that you can waive and make them into something else. Although, at times you may want to. But you can influence them, heavily.)
Austin and I use to have conversations about how people, who call themselves Christians, can be so judgemental and hypocritical. I would remind him, that everyone is human, and we all have our flaws. We all have things we struggle with. The problem arises when we start pointing out what others are doing wrong, instead of looking at where we, ourselves, need minor (and sometimes major) adjustments. And for some reason, many "Christians" feel it's their job to point out what everyone else is doing wrong.
But remember, when we worry about everyone else, and not about ourselves, we miss what's important - to love each other - and not just when the other person is behaving how we think they are suppose to, but even when they're not. Over the past several weeks I have observed "Christians" act in very unloving ways and I have found my "anger" rising. I want to cry and ask, "Why? Why would you do that? Who do you think you are? Do you know what message that sends to others? Let me give you a hint: it's not love!" Then, I reflect on the discussions Austin and I used to have and how we can't let others' words and actions effect our faith and how we treat others. I remind myself to "just love".
All you need is love, love. Love is all you need. - Lyrics from "All You Need is Love" by The Beatles
"They will know we are Christians by our love." or will they? I smile, when I hear these lyrics, and think, "Or, will our judgemental attitude negate what we say? We say we love, but do we act like we love?
"My command is this: love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." - John 15:12-13
Hatred stirs up dissension, but love covers all wrongs. - Proverbs 10:12
Why is it so much easier to cut people down, to be unforgiving, to be judgemental, than to love them up? Maybe, it's because when we stop finding faults in others we will have to look at our own faults and we don't like what we see. Heaven knows I have a lot of them!
Come on people now. Smile on your brother. Everybody get together, try to love one another, right now. - Lyrics from "Get Together" by The Youngbloods
So, am I angry? No!
Do I want people to love more? Absolutely!
What do I wonder? I wonder what would happen if we all started loving more and judging less?
I would have to differ with them, regarding the statement about anger being part of grieving. Anger may be part of grieving for many, but not for all. In fact, everyone goes through the "stages" of grief in their own way, in their own time. And, some skip over areas completely.
Are You Angry?
When I think about whether I've been angry my answer comes quickly, "No, what am I suppose to be angry at?"
Am I suppose to be angry at Austin? Maybe, but I'm not, not even for a moment. I have never thought, "Austin, how could you leave us?" What I have thought is, "Austin, I am so sad you are gone and I miss you so very, very much." Because I do. He did not leave us on purpose. He did not head out Thursday morning for work thinking, "I'm going to crash my motorcycle today and die." I'm pretty sure the thought never crossed his mind, as he was driving to work on a beautiful, sunny morning, looking forward to going to Watkins Glen to build a stand for Dinosaur BBQ (his all time favorite restaurant). No, I'm not, nor ever have been, mad at Austin.
Am I suppose to be angry with God? Maybe, but I'm not. I have asked Him why he let Austin die. But I have never been mad at Him. God has never told us that we will live forever. He has never promised how long we will each live. What He has told us is that there will be troubles in this life, but that He will be there for us. He has given me strength to get through even my saddest days. There are times I have asked when will it stop, and informed Him that I am tired and ready for this sadness to end. I know it will eventually, but patience has never been one of my strong suits.
Am I suppose to be angry at the EMTs or hospital personnel? Maybe, but I'm not. I am certain each one of them did everything possible to save Austin. Unfortunately, sometimes there are injuries that cannot be fixed. I cannot imagine being a nurse, doctor, or medic and watching someone slip away, even while you're doing everything humanly possible to stop it.
No, I am not angry at anyone for Austin's death. Just very, very sad.
With that being said, what I have found myself doing, over the past couple of weeks, is having less and less patience for things that had already bothered me, even prior to Austin's death. I find myself getting "angry" at people for behaving in manners that I feel actually hurt others. My heart starts pounding, my body tenses, and I have to do everything in my power not to turn to them and say or ask, "Really? Are you really acting like this? Why?" or "Stop! Please, just stop!"
Faith and Love
Most who know me, know I have a strong faith. I believe in God and try to follow Him. And I believe that we need to love and accept others as they are. It is not our job to change them, just to love them - the same way we want to be loved. (The one exception, of course, is if you're a parent - then it's your job to teach, guide, and discipline your child. But, you really can't change them. You don't have a magic wand that you can waive and make them into something else. Although, at times you may want to. But you can influence them, heavily.)
Austin and I use to have conversations about how people, who call themselves Christians, can be so judgemental and hypocritical. I would remind him, that everyone is human, and we all have our flaws. We all have things we struggle with. The problem arises when we start pointing out what others are doing wrong, instead of looking at where we, ourselves, need minor (and sometimes major) adjustments. And for some reason, many "Christians" feel it's their job to point out what everyone else is doing wrong.
But remember, when we worry about everyone else, and not about ourselves, we miss what's important - to love each other - and not just when the other person is behaving how we think they are suppose to, but even when they're not. Over the past several weeks I have observed "Christians" act in very unloving ways and I have found my "anger" rising. I want to cry and ask, "Why? Why would you do that? Who do you think you are? Do you know what message that sends to others? Let me give you a hint: it's not love!" Then, I reflect on the discussions Austin and I used to have and how we can't let others' words and actions effect our faith and how we treat others. I remind myself to "just love".
All you need is love, love. Love is all you need. - Lyrics from "All You Need is Love" by The Beatles
"They will know we are Christians by our love." or will they? I smile, when I hear these lyrics, and think, "Or, will our judgemental attitude negate what we say? We say we love, but do we act like we love?
"My command is this: love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." - John 15:12-13
Hatred stirs up dissension, but love covers all wrongs. - Proverbs 10:12
Why is it so much easier to cut people down, to be unforgiving, to be judgemental, than to love them up? Maybe, it's because when we stop finding faults in others we will have to look at our own faults and we don't like what we see. Heaven knows I have a lot of them!
Come on people now. Smile on your brother. Everybody get together, try to love one another, right now. - Lyrics from "Get Together" by The Youngbloods
So, am I angry? No!
Do I want people to love more? Absolutely!
What do I wonder? I wonder what would happen if we all started loving more and judging less?
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Wave by Wave
I never realized how much energy is used up when I am sad, until these past 4 months. Even if it's only one hour that I have felt a heavy sadness, by the end of the day I feel like I've been in the pool or at the ocean jumping the waves.You know that "water-logged" feeling your body has after an afternoon at the beach. A fatigue washes over you and you're mush.
Ann Dawson sums it up beautifully in A Season of Grief:
"Working through the grief of losing a loved one is an enormous undertaking. It uses up much of our energy and most of our waking moments. I have sometimes compared it to attempting to swim across a vast ocean. When we first step into the ocean we begin our grief-journey. We have no other recourse but to seim to the far side. Some days the waters will be peaceful and we can float along and let the tides carry us. Some days we might find ourselves washed up onto a small island where we can rest from the throes of our grief for a while. But eventually we must again enter the vast expanse. Some days will be stormy and we may feel helpless as the waves toss us about and threaten to overwhelm us....
There are no shortcuts to this journey. In order to get to the other side we must fully immerse ourselves in the waters of our grief, and we must work with all of our strength and determination to get to the other side. There are days when we ride along the tops of the waves and may be able to see the distant shore, and then there are days when we again feel lost and adrift. But we we should never give up hope of eventually finding shore." - Ann Dawson, A Season of Grief
"Sorrow comes in great waves...but it rolls over us, and though it may almost smother us it leaves on the spot we know that if is strong we are stronger inasmuch as it passes and we remain." -Henry James, "Grief Defined"
Once again, I am reminded, that I need to hold strong. As I look back, I can see how today I am stronger than I was 2 months ago. I still have my rough times, but they are fewer and further in between (whether that means only a handful of times a day versus all day or a couple days per week versus daily). And, when I am struggling, the lifeguards (aka: friends and family) are there to help me along and keep me adrift.
Thank you, my personal life guards, for all you do and say!!!!
Ann Dawson sums it up beautifully in A Season of Grief:
"Working through the grief of losing a loved one is an enormous undertaking. It uses up much of our energy and most of our waking moments. I have sometimes compared it to attempting to swim across a vast ocean. When we first step into the ocean we begin our grief-journey. We have no other recourse but to seim to the far side. Some days the waters will be peaceful and we can float along and let the tides carry us. Some days we might find ourselves washed up onto a small island where we can rest from the throes of our grief for a while. But eventually we must again enter the vast expanse. Some days will be stormy and we may feel helpless as the waves toss us about and threaten to overwhelm us....
There are no shortcuts to this journey. In order to get to the other side we must fully immerse ourselves in the waters of our grief, and we must work with all of our strength and determination to get to the other side. There are days when we ride along the tops of the waves and may be able to see the distant shore, and then there are days when we again feel lost and adrift. But we we should never give up hope of eventually finding shore." - Ann Dawson, A Season of Grief
"Sorrow comes in great waves...but it rolls over us, and though it may almost smother us it leaves on the spot we know that if is strong we are stronger inasmuch as it passes and we remain." -Henry James, "Grief Defined"
Once again, I am reminded, that I need to hold strong. As I look back, I can see how today I am stronger than I was 2 months ago. I still have my rough times, but they are fewer and further in between (whether that means only a handful of times a day versus all day or a couple days per week versus daily). And, when I am struggling, the lifeguards (aka: friends and family) are there to help me along and keep me adrift.
Thank you, my personal life guards, for all you do and say!!!!
Saturday, October 30, 2010
REALTY HITTING: BIT-by-BIT
"Don't be mad if I cry. It just hurts so bad sometimes. 'Cause every day, it's sinking in, and I have to say good-bye all over again." - Lyrics from Matthew West "Save a Place for Me
This morning, as I was getting ready for the day, a very heavy and sad feeling washed over me. The reality that Austin is gone is sinking in a little more and there is a heaviness that accompanies it. Tears that had subsided, for a while, have returned, especially when I'm alone and driving.
The weeks following Austin's death I was unable to drive, especially when I was alone, without the tears flowing. The past few weeks I'd suddenly realize, as I got out of the car, that there'd been no tears and if I had thought about Austin while driving, it brought a smile. But that was before a few days ago, when the "driving" tears returned. The minute I'm in the car my mind goes to Austin, to how much I miss him. It's as if when I turn the key in the ignition it not only starts my car, but also the tears. I'm not sure why it's hitting me like this again, especially today, but if I was to venture a guess I would say, maybe it's...
... the change in season and knowing how much Austin loved fall.
... the festive spirit and fun parties that I know Austin would have been part of. I can see his mischievous smile and hear his relaxed laughter, as he chats it up with everyone.
... the fact that we've been making plans for Thanksgiving and have decided not to come back to NY that week-end. It will be strange to not be surrounded by family, which I always look forward to, especially at the holidays. I have always thought of the holidays as being a time to gather with your family. I can smell the the turkey baking and the warmth of whose ever home we are gathering in. I can hear the laughter and enjoy catching up on life with everyone. Something about the thought cooking a big Thanksgiving dinner for only four people does not bring on a festive feeling. I wonder what we'll do all day. Will Austin's absence be more noticeable? Will the day come and go and not really feel like Thanksgiving at all? They say the first holidays spent without the person we've lost is always very difficult. But I wonder if it will be even more so because the entire way we usually celebrate it will be different.
... because I have been focusing on others dealing with difficult situations and now have a lull, so my thoughts go back to missing Austin.
... because the struggles that are happening to others is reminding me of how short life really is.
I don't know the exact reason, but I do know that I'm tired of the heaviness. I'm tired of wishng this had all been a very, very bad dream and that it will end soon. I know it's isn't a dream and that reality is what hurts so much. I know that the sadness will not end soon, and that in order to truly heal this is what I must endure.
In a way, I am thankful, that this is a gradual process. As I think back over the past four months of the sadness I have felt, I can't fathom how it would have been if all the reality that has been slowly sinking in, and all the feelings that came with it, had arrived all at once. I think I would have felt as though an enormous boulder had been dropped on me and I couldn't move. So, in a way, I guess it is good that grieving is a process and not a one-time event. The pain, otherwise, would be unbearable.
"When someone you love dies you don't lose them all at once. You lose them in pieces, over time." -From the movie "Simon Birch"
"I don't believe our minds would be capable of absorbing this loss all at once, and so we part with our loved ones a little bit at a time. After we have gone through this painful period of separating, our relationship with the departed one can become whole again. We come to a point when we realize that we have only lost the physical presence of the beloved. We know beyond a doubt that the bond of the loved that is shared will never be lost." - Ann Dawson A Season of Grief
There are days when I want to yell, "Stop this roller-coaster, I want to get off. I'm tired of this ride. Let me get on a different one." But I know I have no choice. This is the ride that I am on, like it or not. And so, if I have to be on this ride, I'm thankful that it's not always bumpy, that sometimes it smooths out and gives me a chance to catch my breath and regroup. It is by experiencing the full ride, with both ups and downs, that I will eventually arrive at a place where I will have a greater peace, even while still missing Austin (because I know that I will always miss him, even if the feelings are different).
"We are healed of a suffering only be experiencing it to the full." -Marcel Proust
This morning, as I was getting ready for the day, a very heavy and sad feeling washed over me. The reality that Austin is gone is sinking in a little more and there is a heaviness that accompanies it. Tears that had subsided, for a while, have returned, especially when I'm alone and driving.
The weeks following Austin's death I was unable to drive, especially when I was alone, without the tears flowing. The past few weeks I'd suddenly realize, as I got out of the car, that there'd been no tears and if I had thought about Austin while driving, it brought a smile. But that was before a few days ago, when the "driving" tears returned. The minute I'm in the car my mind goes to Austin, to how much I miss him. It's as if when I turn the key in the ignition it not only starts my car, but also the tears. I'm not sure why it's hitting me like this again, especially today, but if I was to venture a guess I would say, maybe it's...
... the change in season and knowing how much Austin loved fall.
... the festive spirit and fun parties that I know Austin would have been part of. I can see his mischievous smile and hear his relaxed laughter, as he chats it up with everyone.
... the fact that we've been making plans for Thanksgiving and have decided not to come back to NY that week-end. It will be strange to not be surrounded by family, which I always look forward to, especially at the holidays. I have always thought of the holidays as being a time to gather with your family. I can smell the the turkey baking and the warmth of whose ever home we are gathering in. I can hear the laughter and enjoy catching up on life with everyone. Something about the thought cooking a big Thanksgiving dinner for only four people does not bring on a festive feeling. I wonder what we'll do all day. Will Austin's absence be more noticeable? Will the day come and go and not really feel like Thanksgiving at all? They say the first holidays spent without the person we've lost is always very difficult. But I wonder if it will be even more so because the entire way we usually celebrate it will be different.
... because I have been focusing on others dealing with difficult situations and now have a lull, so my thoughts go back to missing Austin.
... because the struggles that are happening to others is reminding me of how short life really is.
I don't know the exact reason, but I do know that I'm tired of the heaviness. I'm tired of wishng this had all been a very, very bad dream and that it will end soon. I know it's isn't a dream and that reality is what hurts so much. I know that the sadness will not end soon, and that in order to truly heal this is what I must endure.
In a way, I am thankful, that this is a gradual process. As I think back over the past four months of the sadness I have felt, I can't fathom how it would have been if all the reality that has been slowly sinking in, and all the feelings that came with it, had arrived all at once. I think I would have felt as though an enormous boulder had been dropped on me and I couldn't move. So, in a way, I guess it is good that grieving is a process and not a one-time event. The pain, otherwise, would be unbearable.
"When someone you love dies you don't lose them all at once. You lose them in pieces, over time." -From the movie "Simon Birch"
"I don't believe our minds would be capable of absorbing this loss all at once, and so we part with our loved ones a little bit at a time. After we have gone through this painful period of separating, our relationship with the departed one can become whole again. We come to a point when we realize that we have only lost the physical presence of the beloved. We know beyond a doubt that the bond of the loved that is shared will never be lost." - Ann Dawson A Season of Grief
There are days when I want to yell, "Stop this roller-coaster, I want to get off. I'm tired of this ride. Let me get on a different one." But I know I have no choice. This is the ride that I am on, like it or not. And so, if I have to be on this ride, I'm thankful that it's not always bumpy, that sometimes it smooths out and gives me a chance to catch my breath and regroup. It is by experiencing the full ride, with both ups and downs, that I will eventually arrive at a place where I will have a greater peace, even while still missing Austin (because I know that I will always miss him, even if the feelings are different).
"We are healed of a suffering only be experiencing it to the full." -Marcel Proust
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Laughter - It's Good for the Soul
Have you ever listened to a baby laugh? It warms you from the inside and only takes a few seconds before you begin laughing yourself. You can’t help it – it’s contagious.
I remember Austin as a baby. He had the best laugh and shared it with us daily. Funny thing, as he grew he continued to bless us daily with these wonderful laughs. They were easy and natural and you found you just had to join him. This is one of the things I miss so very much – the laughter and joy he brought whenever he was around. (OK, he did drive me crazy at times – but that’s what made me love him even more. And then we’d laugh about how crazy he drove me…sometimes I think he did it on purpose...or maybe how crazy I drove him.)
Being Blessed by Laughter
“The person who can bring the spirit of laughter into a room is indeed blessed.” – Bennett Cerf
This past Memorial Day, we were visiting family and friends in New York. The morning we were leaving we were enjoying breakfast with our family, including Austin, and a couple of good friends. Every time I walked by the table where Austin, Jon, and Chad sat I couldn’t help but smile and be warmed from the laughter that came from all three of them. This was a common occurrence when they were together, just sitting around the table laughing at themselves and life in general. As I passed by I thought, “I love watching Austin, laughing and enjoying life! I miss that when we’re back in Massachusetts and he’s here in New York.” Soon after, I hugged Austin goodbye and said we’d see him this summer. That was the last time I got to see and hug Austin. That was one of the last physical and visual memories I have of him and am thankful for it.
Laughter Strengthens
“Through humor, you can soften some of the worst blows that life delivers. And once you find laughter, no matter how painful your situation might be, you can survive it.” – Bill Cosby
So many have commented, on how strong I have been during this awful time, that I think it’s time to let you in on my secret. You see, besides my faith and the strong personality God gave me, I have laughter. (I have also learned not to take life too, too seriously – it’s too short for that.) At times, life is going to be difficult. I wish it wasn’t, but it is. I tell my boys, if we didn’t feel pain and sadness then we couldn’t experience happiness. You can’t feel one, and not the other. If you can’t feel pain, then you can’t feel happiness. If you can’t cry, then you can’t truly laugh. They go hand-in-hand. Remember…”I could have missed the pain, but I’d of had to miss the dance!” (Garth Brooks, “The Dance”)
Laughter Keeps You Going
“Laughter, and the broader category of humor, are key elements in helping us go on with our life after a loss.” – Allen Klein
On the day of Austin’s accident friends and family stopped by and I remember thinking, “People don’t know what to do. They’re wondering… Is it ok to laugh? Do I need to be serious? What do I say?” Inside I was screaming – “Please, talk. Please, laugh as we remember Austin. Please break this silence – if Austin was here right now and it was someone else we were mourning, Austin would be making a comment and it would make me laugh, even if it was me swatting him telling him to stop it, but inside chuckling and smirking.” Mind you, Austin would not be being disrespectful; he would just be doing life. This is how I felt the days after Austin’s death and all the days since. Yes, I am sadder than I have ever been. Yes, I miss him every day and think of him every day. But yes, it’s ok to laugh. Even more importantly, it’s good to laugh, every day. It’s healing to the soul.
Reminiscing
“I always knew looking back on my tears would bring me laughter, but I never knew looking back on my laughter would make me cry.” – Cat Stevens
An ironic thing happened when I was starting to write this blog. For the past few days there have not been as many tears when I think of Austin. I thought, “Hmm, I wonder if I’ve turned a corner in my grieving. If the memories I have of Austin smiling and laughing will make me smile now, rather than cry.” Woops – that didn’t last long. All of a sudden the tears came back and it seemed like every corner I turned or window I looked in reminded me of Austin. I was in TJ Maxx walking by the winter apparel, and immediately thought about last year when I went shopping with Austin for a winter coat – he was so excited when he found one he loved – and he looked so cute in it.
When I took my car in for an oil change and tune-up I saw the automotive store across the street, which reminded me of the weekend Austin came to visit. He spent most of his time wokring on his car brakes and after we made three trips to the automotive store it was ready for a test drive. Cruising along, chatting away, we heard “clunk”. “Oh no, that didn’t sound good.” We stopped and Austin took a look. Something hadn’t been tightened down tight on part of one of the brakes (I don’t know the specifics; just know it had to do with the brakes). Austin had had Weston help tighten everything up and I’m thinking something didn’t get tightened quite tight enough. We laughed – what else could you do? We ate lunch, drove back to the house, laughing nervously, thankful when we pulled in the driveway safely and Austin could make the minor “adjustments”.
So much for “turning the corner”. Tears, not smiles, accompanied those thoughts, all day, with me thinking the entire time, “I really need a good laugh. It’s ok to be sad, but if I could just lighten it with a little laughter, it will be so much better.” Then, voila! I open the mailbox and there’s the Brian Regan cd (a very funny comedian) I’d ordered. I popped it in my computer and started laughing. Even though I’d heard some of the routine before, I laughed, all while thinking, “I can just hear Austin laughing. Because he would be, if he was here!” The laughter warmed my heart and dried my eyes, some. I am so thankful for the gift of laughter…
Embrace Laughter
“Laughter need not be cut out of anything, since it improves everything.” – James Thurber
On the day of Austin’s accident, while we were driving to NY, I was chatting with my brother. He said something, to which I replied, “OK, thanks a lot, now I’m mad!” (I was just kidding. I really wasn’t mad at what he’d said.) He laughed and proudly stated, “Good, now you won’t be as sad. You know, you can’t feel two emotions at one time.” Hmmm... Someday, I will let him know that he is wrong. You can feel two emotions at one time – one just takes the backseat to the other for a while. When I’m having a rough day, I like to let Laughter take the front seat for a bit. I know the sadness will still be there, because I am so very sad that Austin is not here, but it’s ok to have happiness too. It’s ok to laugh. You need to laugh.
As I was thinking about the gift of laughter and how Austin was so blessed with it, and in turn blessed us, I decided to Google “laughter”. According to “The Benefit of Laughter – How Laughter Can Reduce Stress and Increase Health” website (http://stress.about.com/od/stresshealth/a /laughter.htm ):
Laughter…
…Reduces the level of stress hormones and increases the number of antibody – producing cells which allows us to have fewer effects of stress – no wonder Austin was so laid back, even when stressed!
…Provides a physical and emotional release – further proof of Austin’s easy-going nature.
…Exercises the diaphragm, abs, shoulders, and heart – so that’s Austin’s secret for a flat stomach…
…Distracts us. It takes the focus away from anger, guilt, stress, and negative emotions – Thus the reason why laughter was so welcomed while we were grieving – and still is today.
…Gives us a more lighthearted perspective and helps us view evens as “challenges”, thereby making them less threatening and more positive – no wonder Austin let so many things role off his shoulders. His famous words, “Don’t worry about it…”
…Connects us with others. It’s contagious. By elevating the mood around you, you can reduce others’ stress level, and your own. – No wonder people liked to be around Austin.
So you see, whether it's a light chuckle or a hold your stomach laugh., laughter is good for you. So go ahead...
Laugh Until You Cry
Laugh Until You Cry
A couple weeks ago, a few of us went out to dinner. The women in the group got chatting, and we seemed to move from one thing to the next that made us laugh. The more we laughed, the more we laughed. There was one point when I had tears in my eyes (from laughing) and my stomach literally hurt. The more I laughed, the more it hurt.
While laughing, did I still miss Austin? Absolutely! Was there still a sadness in me? Absolutely! Was laughing refreshing to the soul? Absolutely! Would Austin have been laughing with us, if he had been there? Absolutely!
“Remember me with smiles and laughter, for that is how I will remember you all. If you can only remember me with tears, then don’t remember me at all.” – Laura Ingalls Wilder
Funny thing, every time I remember Austin, he’s either smiling or laughing. He definitely knew how to laugh…why don’t we all follow his footsteps…because, laughter, after all, is good for the soul!
Monday, October 11, 2010
FRIENDS - JUST SHOW UP
On a hot July day, in 1988, the phone rang. It was Mike. I hadn’t spoken with him since I left Syracuse University back in February. He was going to be in town in two weeks and was wondering if I would like to go to the James Taylor concert. “Sure, that would be great,” I answered. After getting the details, I hung up, thinking, “Oh boy, he sure will be surprised when he comes to pick me up and sees my big belly. I had better let him know that he will be taking a 7-months pregnant woman to the concert!”
I did what any mature almost 22 year old would do. Not wanting to have to speak with him directly when I shared my "news", I wrote him a letter. This way, he could back out without any embarrassment. To my surprise, he called, saying he would still love to take me to the concert. “You’ve Got a Friend” soon became one of my comfort songs through the rest of my pregnancy and first year of raising Austin on my own.
People can be so cold.
They'll hurt you and desert you.
Well they'll take your soul if you let them.
Oh yeah, but don't you let them.
You just call out my name and you know wherever I am
I'll come running to see you again….
Ain’t it good to know you’ve got a friend…- Lyrics from James Taylor's Song "You've Got a Friend"
I had no idea, on the evening of the James Taylor concert, that a little over a year later I would start dating Mike, or that six years later I would marry Mike and he would adopt Austin as his son, or that 22 years later I would be saying good-bye to Austin and once again be thinking, “Ain’t it good to know, you’ve got a friend(s).”
If the sky above you
Should turn dark and full of clouds
And that old north wind should begin to blow
Keep your head together and call my name out loud
And soon I will be knocking upon your door….
Hey now, all you've got to do is call.
Lord, I'll be there, yes I will.
You've got a friend.
You've got a friend.
Ain't it good to know you've got a friend.
Ain't it good to know you've got a friend.
You've got a friend.-Lyrics from James Taylor's song, "You've Got a Friend"
About a month ago, I was reflecting on everything that had transpired over the summer and how fortunate I am to have such wonderful friends. I sat down and wrote the following.
FRIENDS – Just Show Up
FRIENDS – Just Show Up
I remember it like it was yesterday. June 24th, 2010 started like any other summer morning at our home. At 7:30am, the boys were up, watching the “idiot box”. My husband was about to leave for work. I was reaching for my first cup of coffee when my cell phone rang; I looked at the caller ID. It was my 21 year old son, Austin, probably on his way to work, calling to say “What’s up?” like he did so many mornings. I answered, with a smile in my voice (I always loved talking with him), “Hey bud, what’s up?”
The voice on the other end wasn’t Austin’s. It was a male’s voice crying, “Austin’s been in an accident!” His friend had called me from the scene of the accident. I spoke with both his friend and the police officer. Austin had a motorcycle accident, his leg was broken bad at the knee, his shoulder was hurt, and he had road burn. He was conscious and they were taking him by helicopter to the hospital.
A brief “discussion” occurred between my husband and me, both wanting to head out the door to get to the hospital asap (it was a 6-hour drive to where Austin lived in NY), but one of us had to close up the house and pack for an extended stay in NY, while Austin recuperated. my husband, determined to leave first, packed as fast as he could and was on the road in 10 minutes. I quickly started getting things ready so I could leave within the hour, wanting to be at the hospital when Austin woke from surgery. All the while a million thoughts were running through my mind, “What will be needed to help Austin? He’s going to be so bored during his long recovery. I wonder how much pain he will be in. He’s going to be so frustrated not being able to work all summer – he just started working for a construction company and loved it. My mind was in “mom the caregiver” mode.
I quickly called my next door neighbor to see if she could help me out with a couple of things while I was gone and also have my friend’s son, who would be arriving at my house in the next five minutes, hang out at her house for the day. He was supposed to be staying with us until late afternoon. His mother was just coming home from the hospital that day, herself. “No problem,” my neighbor told me. I had Weston pack his clothes; my youngest son had already packed and gone with Mike. I started figuring out what I would need and began to pull things together.
While I was working on the final details my phone rang (time was a blur). It was the hospital asking if we were coming. I explained that we were, but that it was a 6-hour drive; however my brother would be there very soon. I asked how Austin was doing. They said I would have to speak with the doctor treating him; she was not currently available and would call me as soon as she could. I was a little concerned, but figured it’s just hospital’s policy. I went back to packing and making the necessary arrangements for a long absence from home.
A few minutes later the doctor called, “Is this Austin's mom?”
"Yes.” I replied, “How’s Austin?”
“I’m sorry, but Austin did not make it….”
Words no mother should have to hear. Words that changed my life forever!
How am I surviving this life-shattering event? Through the love and support of family and friends.
Within the first few minutes of getting the devastating news, the phone rang again. It was another neighbor, checking to see how Austin was doing, as she had heard he had been in an accident. I let her know that Austin had not made it. Hanging up the phone, I went back to making the other phone calls that needed to be made and then started packing, again. I needed different clothes, and so did Mike and the boys. We were now heading to NY for Austin's calling hours and funeral. I looked around the house and saw pictures of Austin. This reminded me that I needed to bring pictures of him, so we could put them out at calling hours. I started going through the boxes of pictures, pulling out the ones I wanted, but there were too many to choose from. I also began copying pictures from my computer onto a flash drive. It was taking too long, I needed to get on the road, so I unplugged the entire CPU, grabbed all the boxes of pictures and took all of it with me.
Within the first few minutes of getting the devastating news, the phone rang again. It was another neighbor, checking to see how Austin was doing, as she had heard he had been in an accident. I let her know that Austin had not made it. Hanging up the phone, I went back to making the other phone calls that needed to be made and then started packing, again. I needed different clothes, and so did Mike and the boys. We were now heading to NY for Austin's calling hours and funeral. I looked around the house and saw pictures of Austin. This reminded me that I needed to bring pictures of him, so we could put them out at calling hours. I started going through the boxes of pictures, pulling out the ones I wanted, but there were too many to choose from. I also began copying pictures from my computer onto a flash drive. It was taking too long, I needed to get on the road, so I unplugged the entire CPU, grabbed all the boxes of pictures and took all of it with me.
While I was running through the house grabbing clothes and pictures, and anything else I thought I might need, friends started to appear. I did not have to ask them to show-up, they just did. They helped me pack and get out the door, taking care of details here in MA so I would have one less thing to worry about. My one neighbor was even going to drive me to NY, so I wouldn’t have to drive by myself, with Weston. It ended up not being necessary, as my other brother, who also lives in Massachusetts, drove with us. He was very patient as I drove and talked on the phone (it is not hands-free in MA) and cried, all at the same time. Finally, when we crossed into NY and it was no longer hands-free, I let him drive. (I think he was relieved.)
In NY, our friends and family helped us with preparations, shared stories and pictures of Austin, brought food, popped in and out of the house to give hugs and find out what we needed. Some prayed for us. Others helped pack up Austin’s apartment. Many laughed and cried with us. Some put up with my stubbornness, as I wanted to make sure everything we did at the calling hours and funeral represented who Austin was! Friends drove six hours to support us, including my younger sons’ friends. Everyone did what they could and even when they didn’t know what to do, they just showed up.
When the events were over and we returned to Massachusetts we were continued to be blown away by the love and support of our communities, both in NY and MA. As we arrived home and I was unlocking my door, a neighbor showed up with a meal for us to eat that night. My refrigerator was stocked with food for the next couple of days and more kept coming. My yard work was done and my house cleaned. The boys’ sports teams sent restaurant gift certificates, for the days I was overwhelmed and couldn’t think of cooking. Friends took me out for a “girl’s morning” of pedicures and breakfast, just to give me a distraction. Others sent beautiful perennials to be planted in memory of Austin or gave donations to the memorial scholarship fund. Many have shared tears and hugs with me.
Today, I am still receiving love and support from our friends and Austin’s through emails, texts or calls just to say “Hey, I’m thinking of you.” “Hey, let’s go to lunch.” “Want to get another pedicure?” The list goes on and on… The bottom line is, friends “just showed up”, giving us love and support, in whatever ways they could.
It’s been over 2 months since I received the life-altering news. It’s hard to believe that life goes on, but it does. It will never be the same. Tears are still shed every day. I will always miss Austin, nothing can replace him and he will always be part of me. But each day Austin is here through the memories he left. And I have wonderful friends to share those memories with. In fact, one of the special gifts Austin left us is new friendships. So many of his friends have reached out to our family and have become part of our lives (even though they’re long distance), giving us back a piece of Austin. Friends and family are priceless, hold on to them like they are rare treasures – because they are! And, even more important, make sure you are a friend in return – just show up!
As I reread what I wrote, I think of so many more the things I can add to the list of what has been done for me and my family. I am so thankful for everyone that has been put into my life. That they "just showed up"!
I think that God will never send a gift so precious as a friend. – Rosalie Carter
“Ain’t it good to know, you’ve got a friend?”
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
How Are You?
WHAT DOES “How are you?” REALLY MEAN?
In today’s society "How are you?" is just another way of saying “Hi”. We’ve all had this typical conversation many times a day, and will do so even today: “Hey, how are you?” “Good, how are you?”
I hadn't realized, until Austin’s death, how three little words could have such an array of meanings and answers. I never gave the question much thought. I would simply respond, “Good, how are you?” And be on my way.
Today, when asked “How are you?” I think, “Are you just saying ‘Hi’ or do you want to know more? If you truly want to know more, then are you asking how I am compared to 6 months ago, 3 months ago, or two days ago?” In addition to my answer, there is usually an internal conversation going on. Here is just a glimpse of what you would hear, if you could read my mind.
“Do they know? If not, should I mention it?” If I haven’t seen the person since Austin’s accident, I will immediately start figuring out if I should mention it to them, or keep the conversation light. My decision is usually based on how well I know the person and if we are just passing each other in the school, store or fields, or if the conversation could turn to how my boys are and how Austin is. In fact, this happened just yesterday while shopping. I ran into someone I knew, but hadn’t spoken with in a long time. She asked how I was. I simply stated that I was doing well. We talked about school starting and how Wes and Matt were doing at school and how her kids liked the new school year. The entire time we were having this conversation, I was having a second conversation to myself, “She doesn’t know. This really isn’t the time or place to say anything. Does it matter right now? No, I won’t mention it unless she asks how Austin is. Oh, she will feel awkward when I answer that. Yeah, I won’t say anything unless I have to.” We finished our brief conversation, said, “Have a great day,” and went our separate ways.
“How do they want me to answer this question? Do they think I should be sad or depressed? Do they think I should not be sad? Do they want to know how I am doing, really, or are they just being polite? If I tell them that I am a little sad, will they take that as a blanket ‘feeling’ and tell others that I’m having a hard time, even though in 10 minutes my feelings may change – they just don’t know that? If I tell them I’m doing well, will they, again, assume that’s how I’m always feeling and tell others I’m doing great, even though in 10 minutes I may change my mind?” These are thoughts that go through my head if the person asking does know about Austin. In this case my thoughts will vary depending on who asks the question and the “tone” they use. Here’s just a glance at how I may answer and what may be going through my mind.
“Doing well.” While I’m also thinking, “I’m not going to the sad place that you may want me to go.” This is my reaction when the question is asked with a slight touch of ‘poor you’ in the tone. This is when the word ‘are’ has the emphasis on it and is drawn out slightly, like this, “How ARRRREE you?” My initial reaction is that they feel bad for me and think I should be feeling really down. I may be down at that moment, but I don’t want to stay there, so I will answer quickly and move the conversation to another topic. I do not like pity parties, or having people feel sorry for me. I do not want this person to hear I am sad at that moment and try to keep me there. Because my feelings change many times during the day.
“Fine”, while thinking, “You’re getting nothing more from me J” This is my reaction when the question is asked, with an ‘I know’ tone, by a friend or acquaintance. It sounds like this. “Ohhhh, how are yoouu?” When I hear this question I feel as though this person thinks they know how I am. They may be truly interested in how I am doing, but they also have a preconceived idea of how I should be feeling. If I say differently, such as I am doing very well, they will try to bring me to where they think I should be – which is not where I want to be. They may even add, “don’t be surprised if you feel….at some point.” To this I want to say, “Uh, no. I may or may not feel that way, at some point in time. But, I will not be thinking about it until that day comes. You may have friends that have felt that way, but, remember, I am a different person. I’ll wait and see. For now, I’ll just deal with how I feel today, which, by the way, may change before our conversation is even over.”
“OK, we have good days and tough days, but, ok.” while thinking” I can be honest, because you understand that this could change in 10 minutes and you won’t hold me to it.” They ask the question with the emphasis on ‘you’, “How are you?” This person really gets me. They are a very good friend, or even an acquaintance that just understands me. They realize that I am very resilient. I’m ok being sad for a bit, but I will move on to the next feeling very soon. They don’t try to hold me at any place, emotionally, according to their agenda. They just take me as I am.
“Good, how are you?” while thinking, “This is a beautiful day!” And as they walk away I think, “Hmmm…”
SHOULD I ANSWER THAT WAY?
Sometimes I’m feeling really good when someone asks “How are you?” And, for a minute, I think, “Oh, I should be feeling kind of down right now, but I’m not. I hope they understand.”
This happened to me on Austin’s birthday last week. I was surrounded by wonderful friends, who called or emailed to let me know they were thinking of me and knew I was probably having a difficult time. Some came over and helped me with a project and took me out to lunch. My friends and family truly made my day!
The interesting thing for me, though, was that Austin’s birthday was actually easier for me than a couple of the days I had this week. On his birthday, I was trying to get a birthday gift out to all of Austin’s friends, a gift that celebrated his life. In order to finish it I needed both my computer and printer, which weren’t cooperating – at all. One thing after another went wrong. First the main computer’s motherboard broke, then the printer broke, and then my other computer crashed while connecting it to my back-up printer. The new computer I bought (to replace the main computer) wouldn’t connect to my backup printer, I needed an updated driver. Once I got the back-up printer working on the new computer, the double-sided printing that I needed didn’t work – I kept getting black streaks on the back of the pages. During this challenge, my mind was more on the computer issues, then on what day it was. I just wanted to get my project done.
All of a sudden I started laughing, thinking, “Of course this would happen! Every time Austin started a project he would run into one problem after another. It’s fitting that this is happening while I’m trying to do a project celebrating Austin’s life. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought that Austin was purposely sabotaging me (I could just hear him laughing…). The day, as far as being difficult because of it being Austin’s birthday, was actually on the lighter side, thanks to my wonderful friends and family and also to my obstacles.
The dilemma on Austin’s birthday was, when someone called to ask, “How are you? I know it has to be rough today.” I would think, “I know I’m ‘supposed’ to have a more difficult day today, but it truly doesn’t feel all that different than most other days. So what do I say? Do I answer the way people think I should feel? Or do I answer honestly and let them wrestle with their own conflict?” I chose to simply say “Thank you.” because I was so thankful to be surrounded by people who cared.
This actually happens quite often – when how I feel and how others think I should feel don’t match up. Sometimes it’s because the other person tries to put on me the way they think they would feel. The problem is, no matter the circumstance, each of us will react differently. Other times it’s because of a comment I may have made a couple days earlier. One day I’ll comment, “Aw, it’s a little rough today. Tears keep appearing. I’m just feeling sad” A couple days later I’m chatting with someone and they say, “I heard you are having a rough time.” “Uh, nooo, that was 2 days ago. It lasted for the morning. Today, at least this hour, I’m good, really good.” My poor friends and family, I can be very confusing. I’m like a yo-yo, being down one minute and up the next. I’m difficult to follow.
I am so thankful for all the people in my life that are truly concerned about my family and me. I greatly appreciate everyone taking time to ask, “How are you?” even though it may be awkward. Friends and family don’t know what to say or how to say it. They don’t want to upset me, but at the same time want me to know they are there for me. I cannot begin to tell you how much that has meant. I know that I, myself, do not know how to support others who have loss someone. I am always afraid that I will say the wrong thing at the wrong time. I am truly blown away by how much care has been shown me.
All the time I am receiving support I am thinking of Austin’s friends, hoping they, also, are receiving the care, support and encouragement that they need. So many times, after a funeral, people continue to look out for the family, but forget the friends. However, it is friends that did life with Austin on a day-to-day basis. They are feeling the loss every day and during all the occasions that Austin would have been a part of. Friends need loving as much as family does. “How are you?” can have the same effect on his friends as it does for me, and it needs to be asked with care and sensitivity.
SO, HOW ARE YOU, REALLY?
If someone’s wondering, “How are you, really?” I want them to know, “I am doing very well. You may see me sad at times, or with a distant look or thought. I may need some space, or need to be around people. I may be laughing so hard one minute that my stomach hurts, to only be very sad ten minutes later. Do not try to guess how I am feeling; my emotions are too all over the place for you to figure out. Please don’t think I’m feeling the way you would, chances are I’m not. And don’t feel you have to pull me out of that sadness. As long as I am able to move in out of this sadness I am doing well. This is what is needed as I work out how to deal with not having Austin. In fact, it’s good for me to go there. To be aware of how I am feeling. It is this awareness and acceptance that has always made me strong. So, how am I? I am doing well. I am doing how I’m supposed to be, for this moment”
Hmmmmm….I wonder what others are thinking when I ask them, “How are you?”
Sunday, October 3, 2010
IF ONLY...
IF ONLY Austin hadn’t ridden his motorcycle that day
(there was a chance of rain later).
(there was a chance of rain later).
IF ONLY Austin had listened and not had a motorcycle.
IF ONLY Austin wasn’t such a risk taker / thrill seeker.
IF ONLY Austin hadn’t been going that speed.*
IF ONLY he had left 5 minutes earlier/later.
IF ONLY...
(*Side Note: None of us know what his speed was, but even at 50mph he probably wouldn’t have survived. 100 foot site-line is not enough time to stop. That’s the distance from where Austin was when he would have first seen the truck to the spot the truck was at. Which means, he had 300 ft to react and stop.)
These are statements made or thought by people since Austin’s death. Whenever I have heard them, my first thought goes to the "miracle" stories heard after 9/11. The stories about people who should have been on one of the flights, but missed them, for whatever reason. Or about people who would usually have been in the Twin Towers at that time but were late that day. These are people who were in the right place at the right time.
And on June 24, 2010 at 7:15am Austin was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Period.
There are numerous stories of motorcycle accidents where the individual survives, when there is no explanation of why or how, while other times the person dies. We always want to find reasons why bad things happen. We need to have an explanation, something or someone to blame. But, bottom line: life happens - both good and bad. It just happens - Period.
When others have said to me “If only he hadn’t loved motorcycles and been a thrill seeker.” I respond, "Then you wouldn't have had Austin!" If you start taking away who Austin was made to be then you start changing the things that made us love him so much, made us so attracted to him, wanting to have a little of what he had! It was his risk-taking and thrill-seeking that probably contributed to his loving people. He wasn’t afraid to reach out and be your friend. He was willing to take that risk.
The night of Austin's accident and death, I couldn't sleep, so I got up and wrote Austin a letter. Here it is. As you read it, think of all who Austin was. All he was made to be.
It was Austin's unique way of looking at life, of letting things role off his shoulders when need be, of embracing the life he had, that made him who he was.Austin,My heart is breaking so much right now. I miss you and wish I could give you one more hug. I love you so very, very much. All I can think of is the joy you have brought me over the past 21 years.You had such a love for life – embracing it to the fullest. Everyone who met you was blessed by your great personality, sense of humor, and amazing smile. Every time I was with you, you made me laugh – even if I was mad at you. And you couldn’t stay made either. I remember riding in the car with you, when you were a teen-ager and you being mad at me about something. I would look at you and make silly comments or faces. Within a few minutes you would say, “Stop, I’m trying to be mad.” And then you would break out into a smile and we would laugh.You have had your need to tinker since you could walk. At 2 years old the sitter needed to remove batteries from all the toys and place them on the fireplace mantel, because otherwise you would be removing them yourself and leaving them around – which was dangerous for the babies. Today, you just tinkered on bigger toys.I also had to hide the screwdrivers, because otherwise you would take the screws out of the covers over the outlets – which were there to protect you.At age 5, you already know how to negotiate. One day you asked me, while I was fixing dinner, if I could play a game. I explained that I couldn’t because I was fixing dinner. The next thing I knew, you were at the kitchen table asking, “Do you want to play Candy Land or Sorry?” Again, I explained that I couldn’t. Being unable to hear the word “no”, you asked a few minutes later, “Mom, do you want to be red or green?” Again, I explained I couldn’t play. A few minutes later you asked, “Mom, do you want to go 1st or do you want me to?” Hmmm, you never took “no” easily.When you were grounded for TV, for example, you simply responded, “OK, I didn’t feel like watching TV anyway. I’m going to build with my legos.” And off you’d go to enjoy the day!You have also always had a way to get others to do things for you… When you had to clean your very messy room, one time, I said, “You have to clean your room and anything left around will be thrown away.” A couple hours later you emerged from your room, stating, “I’m finished cleaning my room. Anything I left on the floor, you can go ahead and throw out.” (That’s not exactly what I had meant.)You were always such a cuddler. Even as an adult you would come to see us, jump in my lap and “curl up”, all 6’2” of you and state, “Let’s cuddle! We haven’t cuddled in a long time.” Or, when you’d driven part way through the night to visit us in MA, you’d come in our room in the morning, jump on the bed and give Dad and me a huge hug.You had the greatest hugs – which I will truly miss. I looked forward to your daily calls, just to say “Hi” and see what was going on. You always ended with “I love you…,” no matter who was around.You had an amazing heart. Always caring for others. In fact, when you were 3 or 4 I read “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas” to you. When the Grinch stole the presents you started to cry. Even when we got to the end and the Grinch had returned the presents you were still upset because the Grinch had been so mean.You loved people for who they were and loved to be around people. Quite often on Sundays, you’d come to me after church announcing who you’d invited over for the afternoon (entire families). I had to make sure I always had food in the house on Sundays! Now, as an adult, you would come visit and right away ask who was coming over. So I would have to call one of your father and my friends and state, “Austin wants you to come over and play…” What 21 year old kid wants to hang out with their 40+ year old parents? You did. You didn’t care how old someone was or who they were, you just love people! And who would invite their 40+ year old parents over to their friend’s house for a Memorial Day party? You would and your father and I are so blessed to have met some more of your friends this past Memorial Day and to have you shared this part of your life!I am proud to have been blessed with you as my son. I will miss you so much, but you will always be in my heart and memories.I love you! … Mom
The other day I heard Danny Gokey’s song “Like That’s a Bad Thing” and I immediately thought of Austin. Here are the lyrics:
They say I drive a little fast
Say, I like to push the limit
Everyday I'm living like it was my last
Everyday I'm living like it was my last
They say I'm proud of my scars
Each one's got a story
Got guts and glory down to an art
Say, I know what it's like
To see life flash before my eyes
Like that's a bad thing
I don't know about you
But I was put here to live and love
So what if I don't do it
Like everybody else does
They say I'm out on the edge
I'm too willing to risk
Every bone, every breath
They say all I am is a crazy dream
Like that's a bad thing
So my heart's been broke
So I keep on falling
It's nothing but all in when I let go
I wear it on my sleeve
They call me a fool 'cause I still believe
Like that's a bad thing
I don't know about you
But I was put here to live and love
So what if I don't do it
Like everybody else does...
Like that's a bad thing!
Each one's got a story
Got guts and glory down to an art
Say, I know what it's like
To see life flash before my eyes
Like that's a bad thing
I don't know about you
But I was put here to live and love
So what if I don't do it
Like everybody else does
They say I'm out on the edge
I'm too willing to risk
Every bone, every breath
They say all I am is a crazy dream
Like that's a bad thing
So my heart's been broke
So I keep on falling
It's nothing but all in when I let go
I wear it on my sleeve
They call me a fool 'cause I still believe
Like that's a bad thing
I don't know about you
But I was put here to live and love
So what if I don't do it
Like everybody else does...
Like that's a bad thing!
The next time you start thinking the negative “what if’s” ask yourself…
· What if Austin…wasn’t so darn cute and personable?
· What if Austin…hadn’t had such a great sense of humor?
· What if Austin…didn’t have those beautiful blue eyes and mischievous smile?
· What if Austin…didn’t love adventure?
· What if Austin…didn’t have such a generous heart?
· What if Austin…wasn’t such a good friend?
· What if Austin…hadn’t loved people so much?
· What if Austin…didn’t have such a love for live?
If Austin wasn’t all of the"what if's" above, then you wouldn’t feel such a loss right now. You wouldn’t have this void in your life today. And if he hadn’t been all these things, he wouldn’t have brought such love and joy to everyone he touched, including us. And, we wouldn’t be blessed to have known Austin. Austin was a package deal - full of life, love, and adventure. It is what made us love him so much. I wouldn’t have changed Austin for the world!
“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”Psalm 139:14
AUSTIN WAS FEARFULLY AND WONDERFULLY MADE. I hope when you think of Austin you remember him for his Love of Life, Adventure, and Generous Spirit – that is how he was made!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)