"Deja Vu" After Five Years!

Yesterday was five years. You'd think I'd have this thing figured out, but I don't, and probably never will. I thought the five year mark would be easier, but it wasn't. It was actually more difficult than four, and I have no idea why - even my husband mentioned this. Maybe it was the "deja vu" feelings that kept me company all day...

"I'm going to miss that smile..."

Yesterday morning I woke to the words "I'm going to miss that smile, I'm going to miss you my friend..." running though my mind.

Deja vu - this is the song that I heard on the radio the day Austin died and it stuck with me. In fact, the slide show we did at the funeral was to this song.

The sun was out, the day was beautiful...

Deja vu -  just like five years ago.

As I walked into the building and spoke with my students and coworkers "they have no idea what today is...*" feelings came over me and stayed the rest of the day...
(*I have a new job this year and very few people know about Austin, and no one knew that yesterday was the anniversary of his death.)

Deja vu - just like five years ago when I walked through the rest areas on the Mass Pike and NYS thruway, thinking, "They have no idea that my son just died." 

The only thing that wasn't "deja vu" was my thinking of and missing Austin.

...that is an everyday occurrence that I will cherish for the rest of my life!

The Shocking Pen

I have no idea why I can never find a pen. I buy a bunch of them, put them in the drawer, and they disappear. It's not like I find them laying around somewhere else, they are just gone. Well, sometimes I find twenty at the bottom of my purse, but then they disappear too. I either have enough to use a different pen every day of the year, or can't find a single one anywhere.

The other day I was sorting through one of Austin's boxes and found a mug with pens. I set it on our kitchen counter so I would think of Austin every time I grabbed a pen. Little did I know his favorite pen was in that mug. As I grabbed the pen and clicked the end to open it a memory flashed through my brain....

Austin loved playing tricks on people. He loved magic tricks and mischievous tricks. I've always found it a little more challenging to find stocking stuffers for the boys when they get older, but know I never go wrong with a little prankster type item. One year Austin received a shocking pen. The type that, when you click the end to open, it actually gives you a shock - kind of like the shock when you put your tongue on the end of a 9-volt battery. Not that I've ever actually done that. Well, ok, maybe once or twice. You have to check to make sure they're still working, don't you? 

Austin loved the pen! He took it to school, excited to "share" it with his friends. Little did we know it would be considered a "dangerous" weapon. I can picture him now offering it to his friends in home room. I guess the teacher wasn't impressed and confiscated the pen. He sent it to the office, and soon after Austin was asked to visit the principal. Austin came home from school that afternoon not too happy that he'd lost his favorite pen. As he shared the story I was torn between being a responsible mom allowing to him face the consequences, and being the bad mom laughing at what happened. I took the middle road - outside I  responded, "I guess you now know the rules and know not to bring a shocking pen to school," while inside I was rolling in laughter picturing what went down....

According to Austin, he walked into the office. The secretary said to him, "The principal would like to see you about this." She held up the pen and pressed on the end. Zap! She was shocked.

Austin lost his pen to the school, which made it easy for me to know what to get for a stocking stuffer the next year - this time with strick instructions not to take it to school.

As I clicked the end of the pen and received the infamous "zap," I hollered out, then couldn't stop laughing. Austin got me again! Thank you for the memory and the laugh.

"For some, life lasts a short while, but the memories it holds last forever." 

~Laura Swenson

Life is Good

As I reflect on life one thought comes to mind.... LIFE IS GOOD!

Austin's last Christmas with us (December 2009)

Life is full. It's full of experiences, full of changes, full of hurt, and full of laughter. I look around and see that, despite the pain we sometimes experience, life is good...

Life is good. As I look at my boys I am reminded of this. Even though there are moments when they frustrate the living daylights out of me, they are a beautiful gift to me. As I watched Austin, and am now watching his brothers grow into young men, I am filled with awe that I have been blessed with three beautiful sons. Lately, I keep thinking how Austin would get a chuckle out of his two brothers if he could see them now.

Life is busy and moves fast. My family is on the go most of the time, enjoying the time we have before the boys are off to college and I am left trying to fill my time with other things. Today Austin would be 26 years old. In 1-1/2 years my middle son will graduate high school, the youngest will graduate in 3-1/2 years. It's hard to believe!

Life is good. Although it's filled with bumps and bruises, it's filled with love and laughter. This Christmas, as I watched my other two sons opening gifts, which each had "prank-wrapped" for the other, laughing and enjoying the time with together, I was reminded how blessed I am. As I listened to them, I thought of how much Austin would have been part of all the shenanigans and would have loved it. While my heart ached for what was missing it was also filled with joy for what was present.

Austin's brothers enjoying life on Christmas morning (2014)

Life is a blur and continuously changing. When I think of the first couple years of each of the boys lives, all I can think of is it was a big blur. Sleep deprivation and the demands of newborns and toddlers is exhausting and exhilarating all at the same time. I don't remember much of those years - it all blends into one big blob. Then I think of the first couple years after Austin died. Life was a blur. I don't remember much - I think I missed out on parts of my other two sons' lives. I was there physically, but my mind was not always. Sometimes I wonder how things would be if Austin was still here, accident not happened. but I don't dwell on it because that is life - we are thrown things that change our life in an instant - filled with disruptions that change our course. Life continues to change, so if we dwell too long on "what-ifs" we'll miss the here and now.

Life is good. As I watched my younger two boys walking into church the other day my heart warmed. Here were two six-feet tall "boys" laughing and pushing each other, enjoying life. I took a moment to take it all in, take a mental picture, savor the view. It's hard to believe how much they have grown. Part of me still thinks of them as little boys, but reality is they're growing up. My mind flashes back to May 2010, when I caught myself doing the same thing while watching Austin. Life doesn't stop, but we can slow down for even a minute to savor these times, to breathe in a absorb life.

Life is full of "life". Life brings us good and bad. It brings people in and out of our lives just when we need them (sometimes when we don't). Life speeds up, then slows down, then picks up pace again. Life makes us cry and makes us laugh. Life lets us grow and change. It takes experiences and molds us, sometimes for the better others for worse, depending on how we let it. That is why, as I look around I think...

Life is a camera. Each moment we have is a snap shot that makes up our life photo album. The memories we make along the way should be savored - both the good and the bad, because they ultimatly make us who we are. I found this quote and felt it sums life up: "Life is like a camera...Focus on what's important, capture the good times, develop from the negatives, and if things don't work out, take another shot." Then remember...

LIFE IS GOOD...keep snapping those pictures!

The date on this photo is wrong.
I believe this was Christmas 2008,
based off of Austin's scruffy beard!

Something's Missing

"Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it." ~ L.M. Montgomery

There are certain things that when I don't have them I feel as if I'm forgetting something. When I leave my house without my purse, I have a constant unsettled feeling; something is missing. If I don't have my phone, I almost feel naked. When we go somewhere as a family and one of my sons is not with us I am constantly doing a double check trying to figure out who or what we forgot. I even do it when my pseudo son from next door isn't with us. We didn't forget anyone, it's simply that we're short a person who is usually with us because they are somewhere else for the day.

Suddenly it hit me the other day, when I was driving. I almost always have a bit unsettling of a feeling, as if I am leaving something behind, as if something is missing. Then I realized, it's Austin.

Life is moving on. Changes are happening all around, everyone is growing up. Everyone but Austin. In my mind he's still the same as he was four and half years ago and it seems unnatural. As I watch others grow and mature, even my other two boys, Austin never ages. As memories are made with my friends and family, my Austin's memories will always be the same. There will never be any more or any less than the ones I had when he died at the age of 21.

I will hold tight to those beautiful memories and realize he is always with me, even when I feel as if I'm leaving something behind. Austin is missing, but his love is all around!

Austin looking at a photo album I gave him Christmas 2009 (the last Christmas he shared with us). He had several undeveloped rolls of film from a couple years priors (pre-digital camera days). I developed them and created a photo album for him. Every time I look at this picture I smile remembering that day. (His 16 year-old brother is now wearing the sweater he has on in this photo - which warms my heart every time I see him wearing it.)

Don't Ask Me Why

The other day I was calling my stepmom on my cell phone and an ironic realization hit me. When I enter her home phone number the name tied to that number shows on my phone contacts as "Dad." What's so ironic about that? It's the fact that I kept "Dad" as the contact name after he died....

The day after Austin died my phone rang, I looked at the caller ID. It showed "Austin" was calling. My mind became instantly confused. How could Austin be calling me? Was Austin really alive? Was the whole accident a mix up? Would Austin be on the other end if I answered?

No. Austin was no longer with us. He wasn't calling me. It was actually my middle son calling. I had let my middle son have Austin's phone, since he didn't have one of his own. But I never thought about how it would show up on my caller ID, and it freaked me out.

After a couple of days of receiving calls or texts from "Austin" I knew I had change that number listing, but  I didn't have it in me to have a different person's name. I can't explain it, it just didn't feel right, as if if I was cutting Austin off. (Which is silly, I know, but it was what it was.) So I changed the listing to "The Boys." Problem solved. "The Boys" could include Austin, right? Since both my middle and youngest son were using the phone at the time, "The Boys" covered both of them, and kept Austin connected to that number.

Eventually, my middle son became the sole user of that phone (and phone number), and asked me to have just his name appear on my caller id. I obliged. It didn't make sense to keep it as "The Boys," when it was only my middle son using that number.

Fast forward three years from that incident. After my father passed away it didn't bother me that "Dad" still showed up on the caller ID. In fact, it gave me comfort. Now when I call my stepmom, and the caller id shows I'm dialing "Dad," it brings me comfort. So I keep it as-is. Which brings me back to what I was thinking about the other day when I called "Dad...."

Isn't it ironic two very similar two similar situations have me reacting in two very different ways? That they evoke two different feeling? I don't know it is. So I simply sum it up as, "It is what it is...it just is."

Grief - Does it change you or reveal you?

"Grief does not change you,... It reveals you." ~ John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

Ever since losing Austin I've heard (and even said) "grief changes you" or "I'm different since losing Austin." Then the other day I stumbled upon the above quote and it got me thinking. Did it truly change the core of who I am, or simply peel away some layers to reveal a deeper look at who I am?

I started reflecting on other life events that "changed" me. For example, the birth of my first child (Austin), "changed" me, or did it? It changed what my priorities were, what my focus was. It changed how I made decisions, since now I had a little one to take into consideration. But, did it change the core of who I am?

As I ponder this question as it pertains to who I am since Austin left us, I am inclined to say, "No, I am still the same at the very core, but I see life through different eyes. Just like I saw life through different eyes after he was born." I had choices as to how I could let it change my view of life. I could have become a very negative, bitter person. I could have seen life as horrible....  I could have, but I chose not to.

Life is life. It has some awesome, wonderful moments - witnessed when you hear the first cry of your baby when he enters this world. And it has some very, very awful moments.... ones we don't want to experience, but we have no choice. It is what it is.

I find myself often saying, "That is  part of life. It is what it is. What are you going to do?" when I've just shared with someone that I have three boys, one who is no longer with us. I'm sure it sounds a little odd when I say this, but it is what it is, and I don't know how else to explain it. I had no choice  when Austin died. I couldn't say, "Um, yeah, I don't think I want to have this part of my life." That wasn't an option.

What I did have a choice in was who I let the loss make me be. Or, maybe I should say I had a choice of what part of me I let it reveal a little more of.

"Difficult times always create opportunities for you to experience more love in your life." ~ Barbara de Angelis

The Look...

I see a motorcyclist riding down the road. Sometimes I simply hope they stay safe, reminded how unprotected a cyclist is. Other times a "vision" of Austin comes to mind. It's as though I can see him on that bike, enjoying the ride.

I see a construction worker walking by. Sometimes I simply think about the hard work they do, in the freezing snow, cold rain, or blustering heat, and am thankful for their work. Other times an Austin image comes to mind. I can visualize Austin walking with the workers, chatting it up and laughing.

I see young men, in their early to mid twenty's, relaxing, hanging out. Sometimes I smile, thinking about the adult life they're beginning, just starting to figure out what it means to be an adult. Other times Austin comes to mind, so vividly that I can hear his voice as I eavesdrop on the conversation - not to hear what they're saying, but more to hear their voices, ones that remind me of Austin.

Why is it that at times something reminds me so clearly of Austin, while other times it's just a fleeting thought?

It's "THE LOOK" that gets me. There are just some times when a person's looks, mannerisms, voice, and style say "Austin". If you're with me when I see it, you'll know it. I can't stop watching the person. You'll see a warm smile on my lips and distant look in my eyes. If you could see inside me, you'd observe my throat tighten slightly and hear the quiet sigh inside my chest.

This happened yesterday, while waiting in line for a Starbuck's coffee at the NYS Thruway stop. There were two young men, a little over 6-feet tall, in line in front of me, dressed in work jeans, boots, and t-shirts the bright color construction workers sometimes wear. They kept waiting and waiting for one of the guy's coffees. He finally quietly said something to the employee, who kindly stated she was waiting for him to pay. He chuckled when he realized his error, paid for and picked up the coffee, then proceeded over to his buddy laughing about what he had done. Everything about him reminded me of Austin - the joking-good-naturedness, the walk, the construction attire, the chuckle.

As they walked away I wanted to say, "Wait, can you stay just a little longer. I enjoy watching you." But if I had said that they would have thought I was a crazy lady. So I just quietly watched them leave and thought of Austin.

If you knew Austin, you know "the look" I'm talking about. The "Austin Look!" If you didn't, I'm sorry you missed the opportunity, but you can catch a glimpse from the pictures, which capture a small part of "The Look!"