Don't Blink...

One thing losing Austin has taught me is, "Don't blink... trust me friend, a hundred years goes faster than you think. So don't blink!" (Lyrics from Kenny Chesney's song, "Don't Blink")

5 years! When I mention to someone how long ago I moved I pause for a minute as I do the calculation and then shake my head in disbelief - almost 5 years! I can't believe it was that long ago.

Prior to moving we lived close to family, so if Mike and I wanted to go out for the evening we were, on occasion, able to take advantage of this fact and let the boys visit with grandma or grandpa.It didn't happen often, but there was a comfort knowing it could be done if we so chose. After we moved, we were on our own. If I wanted a couple's night out I cringed, because it meant hiring a babysitter. Being a little tight on funds in the beginning of our move it was hard to justify going out very often, because by the time we paid for our little outing and paid the babysitter a nice dent had been put in our wallets. So, it was rare for my husband and I to go out as a couple.

As the boys have gotten older it has become a little easier, but I still don't like to take too much time away from them, as they will only be in the house a little while longer. So, we spend most of our time "together" as a family - and I wouldn't trade this for the world. But it is nice (and healthy) to find a little adult only time here and there. In fact it's important, whether it's a girl's night out or "hubby and me" evening, to get a break and be refreshed.

My family has always done a lot together. In fact, most of our entertaining or visiting with other friends is done as a family, but sometimes it's good for Mike and I to do "couple" outings, without the boys. It helps us to remember why we got married in the first place - and that we actually enjoy doing things together.

The other day as I was driving and listening to the radio I started thinking... thinking about the Zac Brown concert I will be enjoying tomorrow with Mike and another couple.... thinking how busy our lives are.... thinking about how nice it will be to have an evening out, sans kids, perhaps the last for a while. Summer was full of great events with the boys, but it didn't allow much time of socializing with my friends (without the boys). And now, with football season upon us I won't have the opportunity for a while - it will be mostly kids and family time. So, I'm looking forward to this last little outing.

Don't get me wrong, I love being with my family. That's where most of my best memories come from. But, as a mom, I must admit there are times I wish for a moment of silence, a day of cleaning my house and having it stay that way for more than five minutes, a chance of simply coming and going without having to worry about someone else's schedule, an evening (or day) spending quality time with other adults.... basically, a little break for the "mom" responsibilities.

Back to my thoughts while driving....

My mind wandered to the fact that life is going fast and before I know it I will have all the adult time in the world and I won't know what to do with it. I need to take the opportunity now to soak up this time with the boys.... because in the blink of an eye my life will be different, the boys will be onto their next stage in life, as adults, and I will have an empty house. Because,

...In 4 years my middle son will be a senior in high school.
...In 5 years, my middle son will have graduated high school, and be a freshman in college. (Which reminds me, 5 years ago Austin graduated high school, began college, and we moved to another state.)
...In 6 years, my youngest son will be a senior in high school, it will be my last year with with kids in the house.
...In 7 years, my youngest son will have graduated high school, and be a freshman in college.

Seven years used to seem like a long time, but I know it's not. It will be here before I know it. When Austin graduated high school I remember saying to Mike, "If we hadn't had the other two boys our life would be very different now." That was five years ago, I can remember it like yesterday. And to think now, in seven years I will be saying, "Our life is going to be much different now. What are we going to do with our time?"

Life's forever changing. It never stands still. Grab onto the moments you have and enjoy them. Don't wish them away, but embrace them, knowing that you can never get that time back. Savor you time with your children. Take little breaks, then come back refreshed, ready to make more memories. Because....

"100 years goes faster than you think. So, don't blink!" Lyrics from Kenny Chesney's "Don't Blink"

Enjoy a little Kenny Chesney - "Don't Blink": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4f0p5KqdU9U

Quieter but Everywhere...

"No matter where you choose to be, In my heart I'll always see you....Everywhere" Lyrics from Everywhere/Tim McGraw

Music did it again, helped me put what I've been thinking into words. At the Tim McGraw/Kenny Chesney concert last night, I knew what songs would make me think of Austin, or so I thought. Tim McGraw started singing a song I've heard a thousand times. It's one about a guy who can't forget a girl he used to love. They had made the choice years ago to go their separate ways, but for the guy, the girl is still in his heart - no matter where he goes, he can't forget her and who she used to be. That's what I've always thought about while listening to the song.... until last night.

While sitting in the stands at Gillette Stadium, with the warm breeze blowing, people all around swaying to the music, singing along, tears began rolling down my face - those darn "Sneaky Tears". Here are the words I heard last night:

We (You) were born in this little town.... But ever since you said good-bye... Baby (Austin) you would be surprised...All the places you have been...In my heart I'll always see you... Everywhere... Now days... The conversation always turns to you... Still I know I'll hear your voice... And see you down the road... you're on every highway just beyond the high-beams... In my heart I'll always see you EVERYWHERE... words from the Lyrics of "Everywhere"

This put into words, what I have been thinking over the past couple months....

Things have been changing, once again. My life is getting busier. I'm finding I can handle more and more, the way I used to before Austin died. The pain and sadness has softened - become quieter. But one thing has stayed constant. No matter where I go, I think of Austin. No matter what the conversation is, my mind wanders to Austin. Austin is with me... EVERYWHERE!

Because he's always in my heart. And that will never change.

FEARS....Friend or Foe?

"There really is 'healthy fear.' For example, it's very healthy to fear drinking before you drive. However, fear should not be allowed to run rampant through our lives so that it becomes such a devastating factor that it produces failure. The problem is not getting rid of fear, but using it properly.... We must learn to distinguish those helpful fears from the harmful ones. When you can do that, fear is a friend. Until you can learn to do it, however, fear can be an enemy." ~ Zig Ziglar

I have been sitting on this entry, writing and rewriting it (both on "paper" and in my mind) for the past year and a half, as different events have stirred up feelings and I have to distinguish between the fear I feel - keeping my unhealthy fears at bay, while listening and reacting to the healthy ones.

A couple of winters ago I attempted to learn to snowboard, which I'm sure was an interesting site to see. I was an expert on the bunny hill, if I do say so myself. Then came the real test - the real beginner slope. I made it on the ski lift without falling. I made it off the ski lift without making a scene. I fastened the board on my feet and started down the slope. At that point, I think my snowboard had a magnet that was attracted to the trees. Every time I started to go, the board automatically moved towards the trees. No matter what I did I was still headed to the woods. The closer I got, the more nervous I became. Fear set in. I knew I was going to crash into a tree and probably break a bone. The more the fear set in, the more nervous I became and the more I froze. I could not control my board. My brother, being the patient younger sibling that he is, graciously helped me by holding my hands and guiding me down. Unfortunately, my legs slowly became fatigued and felt like jello. At that point I had to confess to my brother that I could no longer snowboard down the mountain. I had to take the snowboard off and walk down the slope. I told him that he could continue down by himself, so I wouldn't embarrass him as I walked instead of snowboarding. He laughed and said he didn't mind....

This was a healthy fear. If I hadn't listened to my instinct and what my body was telling me I, most likely, would have been seriously injured and/or taken out and injured some innocent skier as I tumbled down the slope, out of control.

Then came my dilemma. My boys learned how to snowboard that day also, the same time I did and with the same instructor. They were up on the mountain, snowboarding and having snow ball fights. Part of me was very proud of them, but the other part was nervous. All I could envision was them crashing, out of control, into a tree. Should I let them continue? Would they get hurt? Would they be the next person coming down on a stretcher, pulled by the ski patrol? Possibly. But, I knew they were much more coordinated and a lot more fearless than me, but were they safe? Yes, they could fall and get hurt, but they were in good hands. I decided to, as Zac Brown says, "Let it go."

If I had listened to my fear, I would have been doing the boys a disservice. The boys were in good hands, learning how to snowboard and enjoying the day. Yes, they could fall and get hurt. But, more likely, they would learn how to snowboard, have a great time, and make memories that would last a long time. Of course, they would also find a new activity to beg me to do every time it snowed or they were bored during the winter. They better find a way to earn money to buy a snowboard and ski lift passes.

As a mom I worry. This started the day Austin was born. Some of my worrying was justified, some was a result of an overactive imagination and had to be ignored. This continues today with my other two boys, but to a further degree. I have now experienced what is every mother's fear. I know what can happen and have to ask myself, "Am I being over-protective or realistic?" "Is this something I should let the boys do, even though there is risk? Or is the risk too high that I need to say 'no'?"

Life is a risk. There are things we do where we could get hurt, physically or emotionally, but it doesn't mean we shouldn't do them. Our challenge in life is deciphering what fear we should listen to and what fear is unrealistic.... To really live, we must face some of our fears. To not do so would deny ourselves the life we were meant to have!

(I hope to write about some of these fears in the near future - but seeing how it took me over a year to finish this entry, we shall see...)

Tragedy and Growth

"Physical strength is measured by what we can carry; spiritual by what we can bear." ~ Source Unknown

It's amazing how much change and growth can occur in two years. As the 2-year mark approaches for Austin's accident it's hard to summarize in a few paragraphs how I have evolved. I was reading parts of A Season of Grief, by Ann Dawson and found a couple pages that truly described my thoughts. I've decided to take a shortcut in this entry and share what Dawson had to say...

"When I was newly bereaved, nothing in the world mattered to me but the pain I was enduring. All the minor annoyances I used to make into major issues became insignificant. Worries about the future became meaningless....

Over time, as the sharp edge of grief began to dull, I noticed that people who had once irritated me began to seem more tolerable. Pet peeves like dirty dishes in the sink or wet towels on the floor did not merit the expenditure of energy it would take to raise a complaint. I found myself softening in my grief, becoming less critical and impatient. I started to develop a sense of acceptance of things beyond my control. And gradually, in very short bursts and then in longer and longer periods, I began to become aware once more of the beauty of our universe. The works of God - mountains, trees, clouds, and oceans - become breathtaking works of divine art, and the arts of humankind... Little by little I was made aware of the powerful beauty of creation, and I basked in the warmth of that realization...."

What an awesome thing it is to be confronted with your greatest nightmare, to live through that experience and survive it, and then to come out on the other side of the fire. Those of us who have endured such a fate are often surprised to look back and realize that we did indeed survive the confrontation. We are sometimes even more surprised to understand that the fire of our suffering has tempered us and made us stronger people than we were before our trial.

When I remember the past, I look back with longing on the days when my family was intact.... But I don't miss the person that I was before that time of loss. Although I am now a person who carries a deep sadness within the depths of her soul, a sadness I could have done without if asked, I am also a person with a new strength, a stronger faith, and a renewed sense of respect and awe for the world around me. I have a new thirst for knowledge, a confidence born of adversity, and a great hope for the future.

We can choose to take the sorrows that come our way in this life and allow them to make better people of us....

The sorrows that we endure in this life strengthen us. They make us more compassionate toward others. They help us to appreciate the good things that happen to us, and they often help to improve our perspective in life. Trivial incidents lose the power they once had to annoy us. Often as a result of suffering, we become more spiritual people. We have reason to believe and to hope that there will be a better life after this one, and we become searchers for truths to bear this out. We learn to appreciate our loved ones more deeply, and we become more gentle and more patient than we were before.

Suffering, then, can be considered a gift of sorts. As a result of the adversities we endure, we are forced to grow, to learn, and to love more fully. Without the experience of sorrow in our lives, our growth might not be as meaningful. And, in the end, growth is the reason for our life here on earth: we are here to grow in knowledge, love, and faith. As we grow, therefore, we move closer to God who will one day call us home." Ann Dawson

I am hoping. in the days to come, to be able to write more about how I've changed over the past 2 years. I have so much to say, but sometimes it is hard to put it in words that do it justice. Other times the thoughts roll off the fingers.... I never know just when it will happen, but when it does I will share it with you.

"Community"

"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring. All of which have the potential to turn a life around." ~Maya Angelou

This week-end was filled with lacrosse, lacrosse, and more lacrosse - the same way it is this time every year... lacrosse tournaments, playoffs, and league picnic. For three months the boys play lacrosse with their friends, Mike coaches, and I get to hang out on the side lines with my friends... friends who have shown me what it truly means to be a friend... friends who pulled together and lifted my family up two years ago. Every year, at this time, will be a beautiful reminder of how blessed my family is for the community we are in.

On Saturday, at one of the many games of the week-end, I was chatting with the wife of the head coach from a neighboring team, asking how their son's lacrosse season was going. I had only met her once before, two years ago, but easily remembered her son's name... it's Austin. She was asking about my boys' who were playing lacrosse and then asked the "dreaded question", "Do you have any other kids?" To which I replied, "Yes, I have one other son who passed away 2 years ago. His name is Austin, that is how I remember your son's name." Her husband then commented to his wife, "He was killed on a motorcycle. We were at a tournament when we got the news and it really rocked everyone."

And I'm once again reminded that we are blessed to have two communities, six hours apart, love us up and show us what "community" is all about.  How fitting that in less than two weeks we will be celebrating Austin's life with almost 200 friends and family from two communities, brought together by a beautiful blue-eyed young man who knew what "community" was all about.

Every year, at this time, will be both a reminder of the tragedy that changed my life forever and the beautiful communities that showed my family and me what it truly means to "love people up".

Still Hard to Believe...

The other day I was chatting with someone about class reunions, commenting on how it's hard to believe that I graduated from high school 28 years ago.... unbelievable! So much has happened between then and now, yet it doesn't feel like it's been that long. I truly don't feel that old.

During the day of calling hours, the fact that Austin was dead was still surreal. As I watched Austin's body lying in the casket, a thought kept popping in my head, "Wouldn't it be crazy if he suddenly sits up, says 'Boo! Just kidding...' and then laughs." Because that was Austin, always up for a good prank.

Only this time it wasn't a joke. And it's hard to believe that it's been almost 2 years since I said good-bye.

Today was one of those "Austin days," the kind of day I mentioned in an earlier blog (3/23/12... Just Like Yesterday). No matter what I was doing I kept thinking, "OK Austin, you can come back - anytime now. Jokes over...." Only I know it isn't a joke. He isn't coming back. Sometimes it doesn't feel like the calling hours and funeral were almost 2 years ago (22 months, 2 weeks to be exact). 22 months! Unbelievable.....

I wonder if this is how I will feel in 26 years, when Austin has been gone for 28 years. Will it seem like just yesterday? Will it still be hard to believe?

Forever 21...

Birthdays become an interesting event after a child dies - at least they have been for me. I had thought that it would be Austin's birthday that would be the most difficult, that would weigh heaviest on my heart. I thought it would be on that day that I would be reminded of what was to never be any more. Interesting thing, that's not how it has been for me.

We have remembered Austin's birthday twice since he left us and both times my thoughts tended to go to the day he was born, remembering him as a precious, chubby baby with black hair and blue eyes. I'd smile as I thought how he grew up to be a lean, dirty blond, blue eyed boy with the same charm he came into this world with. As I posted on Austin's last birthday, I will always wonder who he'd be today - what mischief he'd be up to, what his next adventure would be, what next project he'd be working on. They have been bittersweet memories and thoughts, but not as hard as I had anticipated.

This past January and February both of my other boys celebrated their birthdays, one turned 14, the other 12. Interestingly, these were the difficult birthdays. I remember thinking both days, "I need to make sure I make today special, even though my heart is heavy. It is not fair to the birthday boy for me to be sad on this important day, a day both boys look forward to all year - the day one turns a year older." So, I would focus on making sure their birthday was special, never letting them know where my mind and heart was. (I should point out that we have never been ones to do real big celebrations on birthdays - usually it consists of a couple presents, a cake, and a dinner out the restaurant of their choice. Some years we have even postponed the dinner portion to another day, due to sport's practice or Mike's being out of town. which actually works to the birthday boy's favor, as he gets to stretch out his birthday celebration.)

I mentioned how I was feeling to Mike, and to my surprise he felt the same way. That's when I realized.... when someone dies young they will always be the age they were when they left this world. Austin will always be carefree and 21, still figuring out where life was taking him, still figuring out what he wanted to be "when he grew up". And this is why, the days my other two boys turn a year older are a reminder that Austin will be "forever 21" (21 years and 9 months to be more specific).

A couple months ago, as I was watching my middle son, noticing how much he has matured physically this  past year, a thought hit me, "When Austin's younger brothers pass the age of 21, turning 22, then 25, 30, 40..., will Austin, in my mind, go from being my oldest son to being my youngest?"  Because, there will now come a day when Austin's brothers will enter years Austin never experienced. They will experience things Austin never got to because he never made it to that age. Over the years, I have always related where my two younger boys are with where Austin was at various ages. For example, when one of them was getting up every night in the middle of the night, I would think "I remember when Austin didn't sleep through the night. He eventually did, so I know that time will eventually come for this one too..." Or, when one of the boys was testing the limits I would remember Austin did that too, and we made it through. So there's hope!

A few weeks ago we were at a wrestling tournament. Starving, I walked to the cafeteria to grab a bite to eat. As I entered the seating area I noticed my 14 year old sitting with his friend at a table. I purchased my food and proceeded to find a place to eat, making sure it wasn't right next to the boys. You see, my son is at the age where it is not "cool" to have your mom sit with you when other kids are around. I could have tortured him, the thought even flashed through my mind briefly, by plopping myself down in the seat next to him - but decided to be nice, for once, and give him his space. He saw me sitting alone, but never offered me to join him.... yep, he's definitely 14!

As I was enjoying  my nachos, watching my son and his friend, I smiled remembering the years that Austin was just the same - when we were out in public and I walked into a room he and his freinds were in, Austin purposely avoided eye contact, hoping I wouldn't walk over and embarrass him. Then, my mind fast forwarded to 2010 Memorial Day week-end, when Austin actually invited us to join him at a Memorial Day gathering. When we walked up the driveway he didn't turn his head hoping we wouldn't see him, but rather he came out, greeted us with big hugs and introduced us to all his friends.... yep, my 14 year old son will grow out of this phase, just like Austin did!

Birthdays are a strong reminder of how life changes. They are a reminder that there will come a day when I will have no "bench markers" of Austin's life to use for my other two sons. There will come a day when my middle son will start leading the way into the different stages of life that both boys will experience, stages Austin never reached....

Austin will always be my first-born son, but he is now "forever 21"!