LEARNING TO LIVE AFTER DEATH...............SORT OF

2012-01-26T19:11:00.001-08:00

Most people associate Valentine’s Day with hearts, flowers, romance and candy. Spouses go out of their way to be a little kinder. Children exchange cute little valentines. Little girls giggle as they try to detect any hidden meaning behind the Daffy Duck card that reads “I’d be lucky if you would be my ducky” card they got from the boy they think is cute. Boys make googly eyes at the girl who gave them two pieces of candy instead of the one they gave all the other boys. Restaurants advertise special dinners and couples are seen all over town holding hands and generally displaying boatloads of lovey dovey behavior.
My husband is not the romantic sort in general. I remember one year he did order me a dozen roses unbeknownst to me. I came home from work that day and he met me at the door with this huge cat at the canary grin asking me how was my day. I just shrugged and responded, “Okay, I guess.” The flower shop did not deliver my roses, leaving us both a little disappointed and driving back into town to pick them up. Personally I have never been a fan of flowers of the cut variety anyway. Now buy me a tree or a flowering bush for my garden and you will see me doing a happy dance.
We usually spend Valentine’s Day at home with the kids doing nothing more exciting than watching a movie. I am absolutely not complaining. This is totally fine with me, especially if someone else cleans up after supper as a special treat for mom or heaven rain down upon my head actually cook the supper.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be spirited away on a hot air balloon ride being serenaded by Frank Sinatra while being dipped low and kissed in a gesture worthy of Rhett Butler and Scarlett O’Hara. Maybe I am too practical in nature as I start thinking about how cold it would be up in that hot air balloon, how crowded it would be with Frank along for the ride and the very real possibility I would trip and fall out of said balloon as Jay was attempting to dip me and kiss me. Of course this would all be caught on film and I would wind up on television or in the paper displaying the tragic Valentine’s Day events for all to see.
Valentines Day cards, however, are another matter entirely. I love the homemade cards I have received over the years from kids. They have varied over the years with the kids’ ages. Some have had candy hearts attached in no less than a quarter cup of Elmer’s Glue. Sometimes they have drawings or doilies taped on. Some have messages, some just a signature. No matter what they have looked like or said over the years, the meaning is always the same - “Mom, I love you.”
I happen to be searching the Frazee-Vergas Forum web site recently for an article about the car show last summer and stumbled on a very old 2000 article where the kids wrote in how to make a turkey. Tyler’s recipe popped up. For our family, unfortunately Valentine’s Day now means the devastating anniversary of Tyler’s passing. Some day this might mean celebrating the 18 years of happiness we were blessed with, but right now it still means missing the years we will never have.
When I stumbled upon this article, I felt like it was Tyler’s Valentine Card from heaven. It was quite unexpected and made me laugh and wish he was here so I could give him grief. It might be minus the candy hearts, dollies and stick figures, but it is by far the most touching Valentine’s Day card he has ever sent me.

By Tyler Shipman
1. first 1 cup of rice put in oven 900 F
2. Get a Turkey. “put in oven” 900 F
3. When rice is done put rice in Turkey.
4. When Turkey is done but on plate.
5. Get 2 cups of Beef stew
6. Find some pato’s.
7. Then put some very Hot water on.
8. Then put patos in.
9. When done take out.
10. Get some cream.
11. Then get a can with a lide.
12. Then put cream in can.
13. Shake up the can with cream in it.
14. Then get one kind of vegetable.
15 Cook in oven then when done take out.
16. put on a plat.
17. get silerwar out on table.
18 Get some candles.
19. Call all the people
20. Make shore you have leftovers

fear

2011-12-13T12:54:00.000-08:00

After losing a child, you always hear things like "thank goodness you have your other children." While our remaining children do not replace the one we have lost, it is a constant comfort to still have the opportunity to hug them and see them. I was following Carter last night in L & M and it caught me by surprise how he walks just like Tyler.. he is starting to get a little more grown up appearance and reminds me so much of his big brother.

The months following Tyler's death I lived with a lot of fear... fear of death basically. This did seem to ease up and I don't find myself worrying about my other children dying every second. You start to think this would not happen to us twice, it wouldn't be fair.

Yesterday we heard of Myrel Schermerhorn's passing. We know this family as their older son Jake was a good friend of Tyler. Myrel had a car accident about a month ago and just couldn't hang on any longer. This family also lost a daughter years ago. This whole situation has really brought back of course our own feelings of loss, but right along with it the absolute realization that in fact death does not play fair. No one is spared tragedy just because you have experienced it before. It is hard not to let that fear grip me thinking it is not a granted fact my remaining children will grow old, have children, and live long full lives. We aren't given a pardon just because we have already lost one child.

Fortunately most people don't have to deal with a child's death and situations like this give you a momentary feeling of "i'm so glad its not me." That might linger for a while and then life gets back to normal. For those of us in this horrible club, that fear lingers just beneath the surface I would assume for the rest of our lives. It's not something that just goes away. I honestly don't know if I would be capable of going through this again and my heart breaks and breaks and breaks for this family.

So as our small town is in mourning once again, I would ask that anybody following this blog please pray for Myrel Schermerhorn's family, that they would find some peace in their sorrow and find the strength to once again travel this rocky path of loss.

http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/myrelschermerhorn

compassion

2011-09-21T15:08:00.000-07:00

Our pastor gave a sermon last Sunday talking about having compassion or a "my heart goes out" to others attitude. I would have said the "before" me had this in spades, but listening to his sermon I discovered somewhat startlingly that the "now" me has a shortage. I honestly hadn't realized it was missing in action or at least had not consciously sat down to think about it.

Let me clarify... the before me would have that "my heart goes out to you" feeling if you were going through a tough patch, were sick, were feeling blue, were upset about your job, kids, husband, whatever. And here is me being totally brutally honest - so if you don't want to hear it, you better close the page.

The now me feels like saying... well you're not dead are you? your kids aren't dead are they? Of course I do not say that but being totally honest I think it quite a lot. Pretty harsh right? This is definitely not going to make me any new friends or endear me to the ones I currently have. Apparently my compassion took a hike along with our "before" assumption that we would outlive our kids just because that is the way things are done. I am having an increasingly difficult time dealing with this. It's not that I don't want people to talk to me, share their lives, confide in me, it is something that is broken in me that I can't seem to get past the feeling that the bigger picture is always as long as we are here on this earth we can make the choice to do something about what is making life unhappy. I can't do anything about death. all I can do is wait for my time when God calls me home. Here lies my frustration because I find myself comparing everything to this new standard that was forced upon on me - you're not dead are you? your kids aren't dead are they? It seems the only people my heart truly goes out to anymore are those who have gone through or are going through the same loss as we did, be it from cancer, other illness and accident.

I then get frustrated because I feel like losing a child is the worse case scenario. I can't think of anything worse except losing more than one child. There is nothing I have that would mean anything in comparison to that. take my house, my meager belongings, my job, my marriage. who cares - give me my child back. Yet - I get up everyday, go to work, take care of my other kids, spend time with my husband. I try to look at everyday with thankfulness instead of a "poor me life sucks" attitude. I try to be cheerful, smile. I try to still find joy. So here again brings me back to a severe lack of compassion because if I have lost what I feel is the worst case scenario, how can I be compassionate to someone else because I keep saying you're not dead are you? your kids aren't dead are they?

I'm not sure where that leaves me. Obviously this is something I need to work on. I have not really talked to anyone 100% truly nitty gritty, down in the mud, good, bad and the ugly of how I feel about most things in over a year. Maybe that's the problem. If I let out some steam, Mrs. Teapot wouldn't feel like boiling over if someone complains to me about having a hangnail.

2011-06-12T16:47:00.001-07:00

Saturday my husband Jay drove his motorcycle in the 10th annual Ronald McDonald House charity run. There were 1320 bikes in attendance, with approximately $90,000 raised. This charity run is the Ronald McDonald House’s biggest fundraiser of the year and it is heartwarming to see so many people show up and give their support.
This charity is near and dear to our family’s hearts. When our son was sick in Fargo with cancer, we lived at the Ronald McDonald House in Fargo for a month. I can’t tell you how kind everyone we encountered there was to us. We could not have afforded a hotel and the gas running back and forth from Frazee to Fargo, not to mention the exhaustion that accompanied the traveling and the anxiety from the separation and distance, was more than we could bear.
We were able to stay at the RMH free of charge. The room was beautiful and the house had a fully stocked kitchen for anyone to use. The phrase “make yourself at home” doesn’t come close to the spirit of the facility, which was more a home than hotel. Carter and Cassie also stayed there a few nights to see mom, dad and Tyler.
When a child is sick, it is difficult to explain how everything feels bigger than you are. Life becomes this precarious balance and each day the see-saw could tip either way. It leaves you with sort of a sea sick feeling all the time. What the RMH does is provides a port in the storm. They say, “Let us take care of at least this.” The gratitude I feel toward them is priceless and there is no way I could ever repay them, so for Jay to take part in this fundraiser feels like at least a little part of giving back.

2011-04-04T21:02:00.000-07:00

I was laying here tonight watching a show I recorded from Sunday night and caught the intro to a story out of Fargo about a young sophmore with cancer - sarcoma no less - going to her senior prom. I quickly found her story on caring bridge and the story shook me. It brought me back to "the diagnosis" and "no cure" and "hospice" and "the after." Just when you think things are going at a steady pace, a stranger's story can bring you right back to the beginning. I mentioned to someone on a blog recently that if you can get through losing someone close to you from cancer or any other early death and still have faith, God has already performed a miracle in your life - albeit not the one you were probably hoping for. It was so frustrating and still is when I hear things like "it's in God's hands" or "God knows what's best for us." While I'm sure that is true, thinking that is an easy thing to come to terms with is moronic. I am sure my backseat driving even tries God's patience often times. I just want, need, yearn for Tyler - in a way that I want, need, yearn for air. I will never stop breathing until I am ready to leave this earth, because it is part of how my body works. Likewise, I will never stop missing Tyler because it is part of how my soul works. Please check out this girl's caring bridge and keep her close to your heart and pray for her and also her family if you think of it.

http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/morganhayes

In other news... literally... I have been writing the Frazee Hometown Happiness column in our local paper. It has been a fun undertaking and I have been able to put my own little spin on it. My first paying writing gig... who knew. I have been busy getting ready for the 2nd Annual Tyler Shipman Memorial Car Show. We have already raised upwards of 1700. All proceeds this year and years to come will be going directly to the Tyler Shipman Scholarship Fund at Frazee High School. I am very, very excited that we have this opportunity to give back to the kids in our community. What better way to keep Tyler's memory going. We are selling car show t-shirts and memorial stickers that I was able to get for cost. If someone reading this isn't on my Facebook, hasn't seen the car show web site, or hasn't gotten an email from me and would like more info on that, just let me know.

I got an invite from some of the kids on Facebook who are planning on meeting at the cemetary for Memorial Day. I am always a little surprised that the kids still think of Tyler too. It makes me very grateful he had such good friends.

2011-03-28T19:14:00.000-07:00

Just a quick thing to ponder. A friend of mine mentioned this to me when telling me of another family whose child passed away from cancer recently. If a person loses their spouse, they are a widow/widower. If a child loses their parent, they are an orphan. There is no word to label when a parent loses a child. Maybe because it is an unnatural order to what we should expect. I would like to give us fellow survivors of this loss a name - warriors. We fight the battle daily to not just give up and give in to what sometimes feels like unsurmountable desire to check out of life. We fight the battle daily to keep our memories alive and current in our hearts. We fight the battle daily to not give up on God and turn our backs on the one who has our precious cargo in his keeping. We fight the battle daily not to feel guilty about every little thing that we did, are doing, and will do. We fight the battle daily not to feel ashamed that we did not die instead. We fight the battle daily to go on with what is left when the battle feels like it has destroyed everything. Yes, we are warriors. We may appear shabby and tattered... but we haven't left the war. My hats off to all the fellow fighters I know and don't know. I have to think that God has made a special sort of armor for our battle that we can still stand despite all the odds.

2011-03-13T14:48:00.000-07:00

This week my most exciting achievement is surviving yet another birthday party. That may not sound like much, but every time I make through another one of these I feel like a rock star. Friday afternoon as the yellow school bus pulled up in front of our driveway, about a half dozen girls came piling out, followed by 2 boys sauntering up the back trying to appear like they didn’t care. As I said last week, my daughter, Cassidy, just turned 10. I conveniently postponed the party until this weekend as my husband wasn’t home last weekend. I wasn’t about to let him get off that easy, much as he might have appreciated that. I told Cassie she could invite “a few friends” over, which quickly blossomed into a total of 7. As a concession to my middle son, Carter, who turned 11 in October, I told him he could invite one friend over. This was done somewhat for his benefit and somewhat for Cassie’s benefit. There is nothing worse to a little sister than a big brother with nothing more on his mind than to cause chaos to his sister’s plans.

The evening was spent with various decibel levels of little girl squeals and giggles and lots of Dance Dance Revolution. Mom even had to take a turn at Dance Dance Revolution and I overheard one of Cassie’s friends saying, “your mom is really good!” I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or as a sad indicator of my social life - a middle-aged woman with enough time on her hands to be “really good” at Dance Dance Revolution. At any rate, I still have the ability to impress 10 year old girls apparently. Not to be outdone, the boys challenged the girls to head on dance competitions and it was fun to watch. We had diary reading, scary stories, movies, and still more squealing and giggling. The boys did their best to pester, tease, and generally egg on the girls. Between pizza, cake, and pop, the kids were all going strong when I fell into an exhausted sleep at 11:30, only to be awoken at 5:30 in the morning to more giggling. I am not sure if they ever slept.

To be perfectly honest, I am not one of those super moms who boast to “love” this tradition of birthday parties. In fact, usually I am stressed out about exactly what we are going to do, how many children to invite, transportation, food, cake, and of course my sanity, which on a good day can be stretched thin with just my own 2 children. By the time we were organizing the mass exodus of children on Saturday and Cassie asked if she could just have one friend stay the night again, I quickly replied, “Mom needs a break.” My mom of the year crown may have slipped a little right at that moment, but I think overall the party was success.

This whole experience got me to thinking about my own mom - and mine and my sister’s birthday parties. I remember many backyard parties with all the kids in the neighborhood, slumber parties, cake cooked in ice cream cones with frosting and sprinkles, balloons, and always many, many kids. I don’t ever recall my mom being flustered or having the look of “I can’t wait for this to be over” plastered on her face. I just remember fun, friends, and feeling like the queen of the world for a few hours. I hope my own kids will look back on their birthdays with the same fondness.

When I look back on pictures of Tyler's birthdays - especially the early years - we all looked so happy. I have often thought - would I have wanted to know he would get sick? Looking at these pictures, I would have to say, "no." It would have colored every thing we did with foreboding and sadness, whereas the happy memories we shared were truly happy. They are treasures - priceless. They are my jewels, my heritage, my inheritance. I miss him so much sometimes. It can be crippling. These memories of ordinary things like birthday parties are a balm and I am ever so grateful I made the effort to create them when I had the chance.

2011-03-06T17:31:00.003-08:00

This week in my “spare time” (insert laugh here) I worked on redecorating my daughter’s room. Her 10th birthday was March 5th and, when asked what she wanted, she replied, “I want to paint my room.” While infinitely more practical than yet another stuffed animal, Littlest Pet Shop, or one of those strange little battery operated hamsters that are so popular these days, I will admit I did cringe and shudder at the thought. We live in an older home. When we moved in many years ago, I thought we would eventually sell this house and build “our own” house. Alas, life happens. A couple more kids, job changes, more bills, and we are still here. In this time I have found that I can do just about anything I set my mind to.

Over the years I have worked on various appliances like the washer, dryer, and dishwasher. I have learned how to prime the well and the furnace. I have hung sheetrock, taped, and mudded. I have laid laminate and painted every wall in this house at least 3 times or more. I have hung tile, stained trim, stripped and painted cupboards, sewn curtains, made pillows, and moved furniture. I have had a lot of help along the way, mostly by guilting my oldest son Tyler before he passed away and my husband, who will tell you he is not a carpenter. The result is not a showplace, but every space in my house has been fluffed and buffed by myself and, while not perfect, does give me a sense of accomplishment.

Cassie’s room, while originally was just a simple paint job, ended with me ripping out the vintage 1970s carpet, only to find the carpet pad had every square inch glued down. I had what you might call home improvement rage and might have gotten into a fight with the perpetrator of this mess had I known who it was. After countless hours of scraping, sweeping, cleaning, and ultimately painting and laying of new floor, the result should have earned me a mother of the year award. “It looks good, mom,” said Cassie. Kids…

Now today as I write this, my hands are full of blisters, my back and knees ache, and I have a glob of teal paint I can’t quite get out of my hair. Bob Villa can eat his heart out - “this old house” would give him a run for his money. I have along the way of the many years of home improvement learned a valuable lesson. It isn’t always the shiny new things that we need. Sometimes it is the things that may appear worn with age to another’s eye that appear the most bright when we look at them as our minds are filled with memories. If the walls in this house could talk, they could tell you of countless birthday parties, games, discussions, laughter, and years of family. They could also tell you of hard times and the last breath of my oldest son. Both the good and bad within these walls mean more to me than perfectly level floors or brand new cupboards. In the end, it’s not where we live, it is recognizing that the life we live and the people we love are priceless.

2011-02-14T13:06:00.001-08:00

Today's the day. A year of learning to live after death. I'm not sure I have really learned anything, but the grief I feel isn't the breathtaking, debilitating, like someone stuck a knife in my stomach and my guts are hanging out for everyone to see feeling it was a year ago. Sound like a gruesome description? Well it doesn't really come close to how it really felt one year ago today. If you would have asked me that day if I would be a functioning individual who enjoys her life I would have told you "hell no." Fortunately or unfortunately life goes on without those we lose whether we like it or not. So here I am a year later. Grief right now is more like a bone deep arthritis ache that flares up when it rains in my heart. I won't tell you that still doesn't happen daily, but I will tell you when it does I am better able to ride it out knowing that the sun does shine again. Many lifetimes ago in one of my blogs on caring bridge I spoke about finding "rainbows in the rain." I had forgotten about that until recently I was reading through my blog entries for the first time. It made me think of the car show this summer when we had more than one rainbow show up on the horizon and everyone was commenting on the significance of that. We have had so many rainbows in this rainfall of our lives. I am sad today. I am heartbroken. I miss my boy. I miss what our lives should have been. But... I am still looking for rainbows and in this way I am healing.

2011-01-31T13:24:00.000-08:00

As we are staring at the one year anniversary of Tyler’s death in the face, I am a little surprised at how fast this last year has gone. Life and Death stare at each other across a great battlefield with us humans in the thick of the war. Time is the jester on the sidelines laughing at us all, knowing that no matter who wins he will continue his merry dance of tick tock tick tock. Strangely enough Life and Death are brothers of a sort - without the death of Jesus, we couldn’t experience life eternal. Without death on earth, life in heaven would never begin. Here we are a year later the mixed feelings I have regarding both life and death are no where near sorted out.

Everyone wants to know about all the “firsts” in the first year. My readers have all had a front seat of the highs and lows. If I had to pinpoint the worst firsts I would say Tyler’s birthday, Mother’s day, and deer hunting and fishing opening. I have missed Tyler in the day, at night when I lay down, even in my dreams sometimes. I have reinacted every mistake and argument I had with him. I have looked at pictures, pictures, and more pictures. I have hung onto and daydreamt about every happy memory I could think of. I have seen his smile float in my memory. I have heard his voice when he wasn’t there. I have closed my eyes and hugged myself and pretended it was him. I have talked to him, cried for him, cried for myself, cried for my family. I have talked about Tyler like he was still here. Through all of this I have discovered that I am human, imperfect, but in a lot of ways I feel like Samson fighting the giant Goliath. Grief can be a big shadowing menace that lurks and threatens to swallow you whole. Your gut instinct may be to curl into a ball and surrender. Mine was. Shut everyone out, shut myself up. If I am alone then no one can see me or hurt me anymore. The problem with being alone is it is lonely. So I chose to fight the giant. Some days that meant just going to work. Some days it was so much more - good memories, good times, laughing, smiling, a glimpse of the “before” life we used to have. The giant is still there - he always will be. Grief isn’t something you “get over.” Now that it has been a year, we are not magically “cured” anymore than Tyler was. As I have mentioned before, it is not getting over loss, it is learning to live with it. Some days it hurts worse than others. I imagine this is part of the “acceptance” we hear about. I do accept Tyler is gone, that we couldn’t have changed that. I accept that despite this, we must continue on here. I also accept that it is OK to still have happiness - that doesn’t lessen any part of Tyler’s life.

This last year wasn’t all about sadness. We had many things that happened this past year that will be treasured memories in years to come. We got our little dog Dixie - much to Jay’s dismay, although for some reason now he is Dixie’s favorite person. Jay will tell you he doesn’t like her, but it is funny how I always find her sitting on his lap. We’ll keep that our little secret though. We got to hang out with our Fiero buddies off and on all summer and I got my own Fiero in the fall. We had an awesome car show and party at our house in July. We got to go to Mexico in December. I celebrated the last birthday of my 30s in May - that wasn’t so much fun - but isn’t 40 the new 30? I guess we will see in a few months. We watched Carter play baseball and wrestle. This year wasn’t all bad. I have a quote on my email signature for work. It reads “It’s not what you look at, it’s what you see.”

I readily admit that I can be depressed, upset, angry, and generally feel like hitting something. When the helpless/hopeless feelings set in, this is a very human side effect. Things are never as “June Cleaver” as I aspire to be. Sometimes it plain old sucks to be around me. I think the main cause of that is it is my knee jerk reflex to internalize the “real me.” I get tired of talking about how bad I feel to my family and friends. I often feel like my timeframe of that has expired. I have a fierce independent streak 10 miles wide and to become a burden - whether emotional or physical - on someone else is not easy for me to do. That brings us to coping. How have I learned to “cope” this past year? Someone in my position a year ago may be wondering that… how in the world do I handle this? Put your pants on one leg at a time, that’s how. Sometime my feet get tangled up and my pants are on backwards, but by God those pants get put on every day.

We all develop our own methods of coping starting at a very young age and carry those methods and develop new ones as we grow older. I have some good coping habits and some bad ones. My initial way to deal with this as I mentioned was just shutting down. If I put on a smile and just pretend everything is fine, everyone will quit looking at me and wondering if I am going to fall apart. You can only hide from yourself for so long though before it starts to wear you out. Talking - to anyone - friends or family - is a good way to release that pent up steam. You know that crazy lady in sweatpants who hasn’t showered in 3 days that you run into while looking at canned soup in the Wal-mart who bumps your cart and ends up telling you her life story? Sometimes that’s me. At least I don’t follow anyone to their car or anything really strange, not yet anyway. The point is talking about it makes it less scary. I talk about Tyler because I can. I will never stop talking about him. If that makes anyone uncomfortable, I don’t care. I talk about him because he is still my son, I am still his mom, and talking about him makes me feel close to him. I remember very clearly the first time I was asked by a stranger how many kids I had shortly after Tyler’s death. I was just dumbfounded and I said “2.” This was only days after the funeral. I felt horrible the instant it left my mouth, but I wasn’t prepared how that simple ordinary question that everyone asks would put me in a position of having to share my loss with someone I didn’t know. I will never make that mistake again. Ask me how many children I have. I have 3, one of them is waiting for me in heaven. “I’m so sorry to hear that” you might say as you are feeling very uncomfortable. I will reply, “Don’t be sorry. I am not sorry he is in heaven. Yes I wish I had more time with him here on earth and I miss him like crazy, but how can I be sorry he sits at the feet of Jesus right now? I know I will join him when this life of mine is over and I am glad of that.”

Other ways I have found to cope are keeping busy - idle hands and all. I love my job, which is a blessing all in itself. I have started to exercise regularly - as opposed to eating myself into oblivion. If you know me or follow facebook, you know I go to Zumba. OK, I am not coordinated and prone to unexplained falling episodes generally, but this single lifestyle change has been one of the best things I have done completely selfishly for me this past year. If you feel bad, just moving - doing something - makes a huge difference. Nothing usually deters me from going to my exercise class - not even blizzards. Jay drove me through an all out fierce Minnesota blizzard one night just to get me to the community center. Other “doing” things like my memorial garden this summer was so healing. I have started quilting again - which was a huge passion of mine prior to cancer. I had to decide again that it was OK to be happy. I had to ask myself, would Tyler want you to sit on the couch crying the rest of your life or would he say “get out and ride mom.” I think we all know what he would say.

Writing has been another way of coping. I have always expressed myself so much better with written words then speaking. I have put all my laundry out there to dry so to speak. I have said so many times to never put something out there in cyberspace that you wouldn’t want the whole world to read. I am proud of every caring bridge journal entry and every blog entry since that. I wouldn’t care if no one read anything - because in essence this has been therapy for me. I keep hoping that somewhere, someday, my words might help someone else. I have started to put together all my journal entries in a form to maybe publish someday - but that is not as easy as one might think. If you didn’t know me, would what I have to say be of interest to you? That is the question of the day I guess.

Family is on the list of coping mechanisms of course. I cannot tell you how many people comment on the “statistic” of divorce after a child death. I am sure people wonder about us… if I was you I would wonder. To say our marriage was strained during Tyler’s illness is an understatement. I can only guess at the magnitude of helplessness Jay felt when Tyler was sick. Although I felt that too, I was doing the caregiver role so I didn’t have time to sit and think as much. After Tyler died, then it hit me like a ton of bricks. We have had our own wars between us - sometimes it was him angry at me and sometimes it was me angry at him. If you would have asked me a year ago if we would make it, I would have honestly said I don’t know. We have traveled a long road together. Marriage is hard in any case. Throw in some cancer and a loss of a child and strain doesn’t begin to describe what happens. I said a long time ago in a journal entry that cancer was like an atomic bomb going off in your family. Only after the smoke clears will you see what you have left. We have learned in the last year that what is left is us - we are here and we aren’t going anywhere. Jay has held me when I cried and I have held him when he has cried. We have talked to each other about Tyler, what happened, what hurts the most. You can either push or pull - as long as the pulls outweigh the pushes things tend to work themselves out. Cancer robbed us of our son - what we choose to do with the rest of our lives is not up to cancer.

So here we are - almost a year later. I have struggled, stumbled, fallen flat on my face, and gotten up to do it all over again. I guess that is some sort of miracle all on its own. On February 14 at 7:45 pm I will be making my way down to the cemetery and walking through the snowdrifts to where Tyler’s body was laid to rest. I am going to release a yellow balloon and tell Tyler I love him and I miss him. I will probably cry. I am sure I will not be alone in this sadness. I know I will not be alone in the cemetery.

My request of the readers of this blog is to post your favorite Tyler story on here. I would like to be flooded with stories. Even if you did not know Tyler personally, maybe your favorite story you heard about him from me or what touched you most about his life. I want to “talk” about him. Let’s give him a cyber memorial and in this way give me a cyber hug. I always love to hear from Ty’s friends. They have a piece of Tyler that I don’t - as it should be. These memories you share with me are like flowers… fill up my garden.

I will start. My most recent favorite memory during that last summer we had Tyler was our last camping trip. I was camping with Carter and Cassie by myself and Tyler showed up. We cooked pork roast on the campfire - and ended up eating the whole thing without saving any for Jay. We played yahtzee in the dark and laughed so hard I might have peed myself a little. It was the best camping trip I have ever had with my kids and it was only about 30 miles from our house. When I look at this picture I can hear Tyler laughing in my mind.

My favorite memory of our time with cancer was the day Jay took Carter to Frazee open wrestling and Tyler and I watched a Cake Boss marathon - all day. It was just him and I hanging out. He snoozed and would wake up and then snooze some more. I laugh also when I remember his first day of Kindergarten. I was so worried he would get lost - because he HAD TO take the bus - that I wrote his name, teacher’s name, and room number on his lunch box. He came home and informed me in as matter of fact voice a 5-year-old can have that wasn’t cool and to not ever do that again.

Lines

2011-01-04T13:53:00.000-08:00

Our lives are made up of “lines in the sand.” These lines define many before and after experiences that we consciously or unconsciously plot out our memories with. Some of these lines are valued as good and made by our own choices - graduation, marriage, having children, starting a new job or changing jobs, buying a house and many more. Some of these lines are drawn for us and are composed of more difficult memories - losing a job, divorce, losing a house, and of course death of someone we love. I have never really thought of my life in terms of before and after until Tyler’s diagnosis of cancer and Tyler’s death. Now I often hear myself referring to “before the funeral” and “after the funeral,” “before Tyler got sick” and “after Tyler got sick.” This line in the sand is more of a crack in the sidewalk. The winds of time will not ever blow this line into soft focus… it is carved out of an unchangeable stone.

“Before” seems eons ago - like a dream. “After” is sometimes a harsh place filled with fleeting thoughts of “why me and not them,” regret, anger, depression, helplessness. This “after” started out as a wasteland of destruction. I would liken it to being lost in a harsh desert with no water in sight. I could look across that line and see “before” and the beauty I took for granted but was now out of reach. As we are fast approaching a year living in “after,” the scenery still hurts but I can also begin to see new growth, new beauty, and happiness. This after land will never be the same as “before” but “after” doesn’t have to be synonymous with sadness either. There are days I still kick at the wall dividing before and after as hard as I can, scream, cry, beat it with my fists, rage with all my might at it, willing it to disappear. I won’t lie and tell you it doesn’t feel good to vent my frustrations, but it makes me tired and doesn’t solve or change anything and before and after are still here. If instead I approach the line with an acceptance born of necessity I can sometimes gently reach across that line and pick a flower or two to plant in my after. It is in this gentle reflective grief that I can see no matter what side of the line I am on the one constant is God. He was here before, during, and after each life line and will be here for the next line that happens whether good or bad. There is comfort in that constant. He can be an oasis in the desert if we let Him.

New Years

2011-01-02T08:22:00.000-08:00

Let’s talk New Year’s resolutions. Who makes them? Who keeps them? I always think of some grand idea that usually fizzles out and is short lived. I think that is pretty typical. Usually it involves starvation, a painful exercise regime, and smaller pants sizes. This lasts for a brief period of time until I am overcome with the well known psychotic break phenomenon of “chocolate is more fun than exercise you dummy.”

This brings me to 2011. My resolution is to not make anymore New Year’s resolutions. Let’s face it, if you want to change something about your life making some grandiose announcement after a couple glasses of champagne is probably not something that you have thought through very well. The changes that we make in our lives that stick are often born of an idea that takes hold in the wee hours of the morning, takes root, rolls through our minds, and finally motivates us to action. Sometimes these changes are born of trauma, sadness, or grief. Sometimes they are born of inspiration found in another person or circumstance.

Instead of looking at resolutions then I am looking at reflection. What have I don’t in the past year that I am proud of, that made a difference? That is a very hard question - try asking yourself. I can list you dozens of things I wish I had done better or that I wish I hadn’t done at all. That is my tendency - to focus on what ultimately amounts to failure in my mind. So when I really thought about this question, it was hard. What I am most proud of is even though this past year has been difficult, heartbreaking, and filled with loss and grief, I can still find reasons to laugh, smile, and see goodness in life.

Incidentally, my New Year's Eve was spent snowed in.... literally... The neighbor girls were over watching movies with our kids, then the whole George family came over as they were snowed in too, we played games and visited. Jay and I were in bed by 10:30... what a couple of party animals ;)

CHRISTMAS

2010-12-27T13:13:00.000-08:00

This is the biggie.... the holiday everyone who has lost someone warns you about, dreads, and as awful as it may sound loathes. Holidays - especially Christmas - is a time for family. When your family isn't here it can color everything with a shade of melancholy. Yes I said melancholy. I don't think I have ever truly experienced the full meaning of that word until now. The trick with holidays is to pepper your sadness with new memories of gladness.

As with everything then, we approached Christmas with good and bad. I was to be truthful a lot out of sorts. I was angry. I will just put it out there... angry. I didn't spend my whole Christmas holiday in a tizzy but some of it. Sometimes I don't even really know why I'm angry, just that I am. I will compare myself to a porcupine with her quills up. Just like life with cancer, life with grief is a roller coaster and sometimes the anxiety of the clack clack clack as you go up the hill makes you want to jump out of your seat.... you forget how fun the ride downhill from the top is.

Christmas Eve we spent at my brother-in-law and sister-in-law's house having snacks and visiting. This was one of Tyler's favorite traditions as he has several cousins around the same age as him and they grew up together. It was hard going without him. I kept thinking this time last year we were loading him up with his recliner to go over there. I love my nieces and nephews a great deal, but sometimes it is hard to look at them and not see what should have been. I saw Kristin with her husband expecting their first child, Derek and his new wife still in their newlywed stage, Jesse at 20 with the world by the tail, Kari getting ready for graduation in the spring. These kids especially bring home the things that I will not have with Tyler. They make me wish for impossible things while at the same time so very happy for the lives they have. There is no better definition of "bittersweet." My sister-in-law who lost her mother to cancer months before Tyler put it simply "some things just will never be the same." And they won't. My last entry I talked about warring within myself between accepting sadness as part of me instead of trying to rid myself of it. This is a good example. I am sad, I am mad, I am lost - that doesn't mean that I am not also happy and grateful for the family I still have. These feelings are not mutually exclusive of each other - they are companions in my heart.

Carter and Cassie both missed their brother but had a good Christmas also. Their Christmas gift was basically our trip to Mexico, but I did fill their stockings - which is a big tradition at our house - and they got one present. Jay was even caught on film playing Dance Dance Revolution and I will be selling those pictures to the highest bidder. Our trip to Mexico was fantastic. We left in a snow storm and our return was delayed by 3 days because of a snow storm - gotta love Minnesota. Regardless, we had a lot of fun in the sun. The boys got to catch a couple ocean fish, Cassie got to swim like a fish, and I got to read 3 books on my Kindle. All in all a successful week. Beach time is not Jay's favorite type of activity but he was a good sport anyway. We thought of Tyler often - as always - and had a family picture taken with our Tyler Toy t-shirts.

I will close with this. For those of you who have lost someone close to you with Christmas feeling a little empty, the memories we have of those who have gone before us are the best presents all tied up with pretty bows. They are gifts we can open everyday and still they can be found to open up tomorrow. These gifts are so precious and without a cost, yet no amount of money would we sell them for. They can comfort us, make us laugh, make us cry, and are only lost if we choose to let them be. Don't let your memories be put in a closet and covered with dust. Don't be afraid to open them and experience both the pain and joy they bring.

2010-11-28T11:29:00.000-08:00

Another holiday here and gone. Thanksgiving was like any other event since Tyler's death - full of sadness at our loss and full of memories of good times. Sometimes it surprises me the things that cause grief to punch me in the gut. As I was getting ready to cook our Thanksgiving meal, I kept thinking of Tyler and how I always had to make him his own special stuffing - without mushrooms, onions, and celery please mom. It was a standing joke that Tyler got his own little stuffing pan. I would also always make a coconut cream pie because that was his and my favorite, along with our special family recipe of cranberry fluff.

I think there comes a fork in the road of grief where you have to decide if you are going to spend the rest of your life being bitter and angry or if you are going to reconcile the fact that while sadness is a part of who you are now, you can also continue to experience joy as well. I am conscious of this choice and choose happiness. I don't believe immersing myself in depression and walking around feeling like my life is over is paying any sort of tribute to Tyler. Rather living life keeping in mind the gift that it truly is would be a more fitting way to honor his life. To make this choice I have to accept that the sadness I carry is part of me, it is part of what makes me who I am today and who I will be tomorrow. I think this is where people run into trouble. Grief isn't about "getting over" your pain. There isn't an "end" to the loss you feel. Grief is about acceptance of your loss, knowing its OK to cry or feel bad, but also knowing its OK to smile and laugh as well. These things have to live within me together instead of war against each other.

Carter and Cassidy continue to do well. Their school life is going pretty typically so far. Cassie is back in dance this fall and Carter has been busy with football and wrestling camp. Carter actually shot 2 deer this season, as well as some goose (or duck?) hunting in North Dakota with a friend and his dad. Jay made it through potato season and went onto spend 3 weeks in Nebraska hauling corn. It was a terribly long harvest for all of us. Jay is also doing well. Him and I both have our sad times, but remarkably we are doing very well talking about our feelings and supporting each other. The kids are back at Sunday School getting ready for the Christmas program and we are back in church - which incidentally feels very good. I have been busy finishing a quilt for a good friend and making pot holders and aprons. It feels wonderful to be back at my sewing machine.

The big news is we are leaving for Mexico on Saturday for a week thanks to Chris who gave us a week's stay at his resort in Cabo and our PFF family who bought our tickets. The kids are pretty excited to ride in a plane for the first time. Carter is just sure he will get eaten by a shark if he swims in the ocean. "Haven't you seen jaws!?!" he says. Cassie wants to swim and look for shells. Jay just wants to avoid any terrorist kidnappers he is just sure will be waiting for him. I am just looking forward to a week without work, computer, telephone. I will be more than happy with a lawn chair, mojito, and a good book. We had wanted to take this trip on Christmas but the resort was very busy at that time. However, we will be celebrating Jay and I's 19th anniversary on our vacation on the 7th. If you ask Jay he will say it might be our 100th anniversary - so I counter and say no our 110th.

Once we get back, Christmas will be right around the corner. We are going to keep it pretty low key this year. honestly I don't really even want to put up the Christmas tree, but that wouldn't be fair to Carter and Cassie. My tradition with the kids is each year I buy the kids an ornament. They all have their own boxes with their ornaments. It's going to be very hard for me to hang up Tyler's ornaments for him - but I am going to do that regardless. It's funny how I can forget that Tyler isn't with us sometimes. I was in Halmark the other day and saw the cutest stocking stuffer (stockings are my "thing" at Christmas). It was a chocolate, marshmallow, nut type ball and the package said coal for your stocking. I chuckled and bought 3. It wasn't until I got to my car that it hit me I only needed 2. Then I cried a little - and that's OK. Then I laughed a little and decided Tyler would think his dad was pretty deserving of some coal so that is where I will put it.

If I don't post before - I hope all the readers of this have a very blessed Christmas with your families. Share a few more hugs and "I love yous" and don't worry so much about how many gifts are under the tree. The real gifts are the people we care about - not the boxes wrapped with pretty paper.

2010-10-16T17:16:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had a bad toothache and went to the dentist and as the novacaine kicks in and the drill is buzzing in your ear and the tooth filings are getting sucked up your nose and you are thinking to yourself I'm sure glad I have novacaine. It makes what could be a very painful experience tolerable. You leave the dentist knowing when that novacaine wears off you are going to be uncomfortable, but you are grateful at least for the temporary reprieve. For months after the funeral I felt really nothing. I knew the pain was coming but I was either in too much shock, disbelief, or denial to reconcile what I should feel to what I wasn't feeling. I busily went about getting "stuff" done and telling everyone how "fine" I was. While I won't apologize for handling the early days of this experience the way I did, I also can't say what is right or wrong. Now, the novacaine is slowly but surely losing its grip and I find myself much less capable to handle this loss. I find myself crying more, realizing what I have lost more, feeling more instead of pushing it to the side. People have quit asking me how I am doing, so now I find myself in the position of taking my own inventory and it is pretty hard to hide from yourself in the longterm.

I think it is very ironic when I hear people comment on how "strong" I am or how "well" I am doing. Or "I could have never made it through THAT." I didn't make it through anything. Circumstances took an unfortunate turn and I had to live through them. I didn't DO anything. If your house was burning down, would you grab a bucket of water even if it was futile if you knew your child was inside? Of course... you would probably even run inside yourself at your own peril. That is all I did... nothing more, nothing less. My way of throwing buckets of water on the fire was to do my best to show Tyler that I knew he was going to be OK - not here but with God. After he was gone, the fire was out, the emergency was past, and so I sat amongst the ashes and ruin trying to grasp what just happened. I spent the last 8 months ignoring what I felt and trying to put everyone else at ease that I wasn't going to fall apart.

So here we are, 8 months into this, and the novacaine is wearing off. The harsh truth is this hurts like hell. Things like regret and anger can cause their own emotional cancer. I haven't been to church in months. I havent' been able to bring myself to go. I talk to God plenty, but not in a very nice way. I am not ashamed to say that it is a lot like when your kids ask you for a treat in the store and you say "no." They whine, they fuss, they may throw a fit. They may try to sweet talk you and then repeat the whole cycle. You say no because they don't really need what they are asking for or it isn't good for them. This brings me to the pressing question.. did God say "no" to my prayers because I don't "need" Tyler here to fulfill His purpose for me on this earth? What a horrid thought. This makes me mad. Of course I need him - but need and want are not the same. Regardless of need and want, I do need to learn to accept. To get to this spot I have to feel and deal... so this is my new goal... feel and deal daily. This I think will help me find my way to accept.

On the line of this thinking, I put a picture of Tyler, Carter, and Cass on my desk last week. After a few days I had to get real with myself and acknowledge this wasn't something I could handle yet. It was making me a nervous wreck. At first I was going to tough it through. I felt like the "right" thing to do was to be able to look at pictures and feel good about memories, etc. The reality of it is that trying to put this grief process in a box is the wrong thing to do. So I moved the picture. I look at it periodically throughout the day but I'm not ready to have it on my desk to look at all day. I'm also heading to church tomorrow even though Carter says he doesn't want to go because it makes him think of Tyler's funeral. I guess it does for all of us. It's no different than how difficult it was to even be at home right after Tyler passed away. All I could think about was the "dying" part of his life in this house - now I find myself thinking more of the "living" he did in this house. Church is the same thing. We just need to get back in the saddle so to speak.

2010-08-23T18:42:00.000-07:00

Dear Tyler,

Well your mom has officially lost it. I bought my very own Fiero today and couldn't be more excited. I think you must have left a little of your car madness behind for me. You would like all the people we have become friends with because of you and your car. I think if you were here you would probably shake your head, but you would be the first one out there fixing it up. I think about you all the time, but I think of you the most when we are in the Fieros. Funny how I never cared one way or the other about these "toys" of yours, but now they seem to be a focus. I guess it is my way of feeling you. I wish I would have tried to understand all of this while you were still here. It's hard to be the mom of a grown up boy. I tried to be more traditional. You could always count on me to remember things for you, be there for you, take care of things for you. Sometimes I wish I would have been more "fun," but I am more than grateful that you always knew you could count on me and that makes me feel really good.

I miss you like crazy and am having a very hard time with God right now. I just can't reconcile the fact that you are gone. It feels like I am just waking up from a horrible dream, like the last 10 months is a hazy memory. I just want to rewind and see you again, give you a big hug, tell you what a great boy you are. I think about your big smile and look at pictures. Even when you were sick your smile is the same, maybe even a little bigger. I'm so sorry I couldn't fix you.

Carter and Cassie are getting ready to start school. It feels strange getting them ready and not you. This would have been our first year with you not being in school. I remember looking forward to that, like our job was finally done raising you. I feel sad that I would ever think having you out of the house and on your own would be a good thing. I know in my head that is natural, but this whole thing is so unnatural that I feel turned inside out. The kids are doing really well I think. They like to talk about you and they really miss you too. Cassie mentioned today the kind of cancer you had. I was surprised she remembered such big words, but she always has been a listener.

Dad, well he is like a lost puppy some days. He misses you constantly. He is busy getting the trucks ready for potatoes. It's hard not to think about how excited you were to buy your truck last year. You had your future mapped out. you had a plan.

I guess that's it for now. It feels good to talk to you like this. I should do it more often.

Love you buddy,

Mom

let's help this family

2010-08-19T11:09:00.001-07:00

It has been a while since I’ve been on here. The 6-month mark came and went on the 14th. We were actually in a car show in Iowa with our Fiero friends. I can’t think of a better way to pass a sad day. I would like to tell you things are better and we are “healing.,” but that is just what people want to hear. Truthfully, I am mad more often than not lately. I am so mad that Tyler is gone and I am so helpless. It is very hard not to tell God to take a flying leap…. And I have a few times. It’s not something easy to forgive God for NOT stepping in to give us that miracle. I know I don’t deserve His forgiveness, but right now I don’t feel like He deserves mine either. Heaven is so abstract that it is hard to see the “better place” here on this earth.

I didn’t really come on here to talk about myself today. I want to ask for you to help another little boy with cancer. My mom’s work (which in her department only a handful of people) were so active in fundraising and support of our family that it blew my mind more than once. A friend of my mom at work has a grandson who is 3 who is battling his second bout of leukemia. He was in remission around the time Tyler got sick. I know you don’t know these people and at this point I can’t even give you a name (I don’t have permission for that), but a lot of you didn’t know me either. Tyler became sort of a celebrity because of the Fiero crew. Because of that, people from across the country followed his story and got to know what a great kid he was. Really in the scheme of things , he is a drop in the bucket of kids with cancer in this nation. Everyone who followed our caring bridge, attended our benefit, and helped with the Fiero touched our lives and supported our family in such a way that money was the last thing we worried about. I know people don’t like to talk about money and there is no comparison to money and your child’s life. I would give up everything in my meager possession to have Tyler back right now. It is a fact of life, however, that when your child has cancer the world does not stop moving. The electric bill still needs to be paid, you still need heat, your mortgage company still wants their payment. As a parent in this situation, you are constantly torn between knowing what has to be done and what you want to do. Let’s help this family.

My mom’s work is trying to put together some things for a benefit. If anyone around myself is willing to donate something, please let me know and I will personally come pick it up. If anyone is willing to donate an item or money who doesn’t live near me, please email me and I will give you the address to send to. I know firsthand how terrific people can be and I would love to pass that on to another hurting family. I wish I couldn’t say I know just what they are feeling right now. I wish I couldn’t say that I could crawl in that mom’s head and feel right at home. Helping someone else at least gives me some feeling of power. Take that cancer!

I joined the bone marrow registry yesterday. Please consider that. I wish I could give a target directed marrow donation to this child, but that isn’t the way it works. I signed up anyway.
http://www.marrow.org/

Lastly, again I don’t feel comfortable saying a name at this point. I will have to ask about that later. I don’t know this family at all other than how this boy’s grandma was so generous and kind to our family. Please pray for them. God knows their names.

my thoughts on "no one dies in lilly dale"

2010-07-06T10:10:00.000-07:00

OK to be honest, my first impression when I saw the preview was I thought my friend Susan Hinrich (who has become my online friend with both of us losing our sons) may have gone off the deep end :) This is a show protraying a town outside of Buffalo full of "mediums" who can see and talk to dead people. Although I think the program of course is geered towards making this place look like some sort of refuge and place of answers, it looked more like playing pretend to me. I wish the show had portrayed Susan's point of view more than what it did... I think the edit made it appear as if she was just resistant to what they had to offer. I think the media wants this sort of thing to appear as if it is the "answer" and Christians appear as if they are the ones holding everyone back. I commend HBO for even putting a Christian point of view on here however.

This show makes me angry in sense that they are offering the easy way out so to speak. I actually tuned in to the show with a small thought in the back of my head... what if this is real? See how easy it is to step into desiring something so strongly that you WANT to buy into it. We all want answers. I know myself I bargain with God everyday to just see or talk to Tyler one more time. Places like this prey on the grief and hurt. Anyone who has lost anyone, especially a child, has an open wound that never will close. To be quite frank, these people can smell blood in the water. If you watch, they start with generalizations and hone in on those who are willing to jump in. They can see you respond to what they say and it allows them to further comment, building on your reaction. Now this is of course my own opinion and it would certainly be easier to think Tyler was floating around here somewhere, but I don't believe it. Why would he want to float around here when he is in heaven at the feet of God? How much easier would grief be to deal with if we could still communicate with those we have lost? But if you really look at that, it is a selfish wish for us to want our loved ones here with us. Instead, I wish I was there with him. Faith is a difficult row to hoe because you can't touch it or see it appear as a "green globe" as that one gentleman said his girlfriend did in his hand. That is why when you find faith, however small a mustard seed, it is a truly remarkable thing. I don't believe a word any of these people said. Again... my opinion... but that is what you are tuning in for... my opinion. I would love to hear your opinions on this. Let's discuss it. Don't be afraid to disagree with me... I don't bite :)

to test or not to test

2010-06-17T19:34:00.000-07:00

today was our genetic counseling appointment at Meritcare. Tyler's cancer was so rare that the UK has the most information about it and they have only had 77 cases in the last 20 years out of about 100 million people. Makes you wonder why this would happen to us. of course its hard not to think that everyday and selfishly wish it had been anyone else BUT us. I know that sounds awful... especially since I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy, but I have always tried to be honest about what I feel and there it is. Why couldn't it have been someone else? I want to be selfish, cruel, un-Christian-like, mean, and nasty. I wish that this had happened to someone else. It would be nice to say that I am such a pillar of faith and kindness that the thought never entered my mind, but it does daily. I wish I was on the outside looking in, reading someone else's blog, thinking that poor family.. I'm so glad it's not me. Ah well...

All in all things have settled down here quite a bit. After we got through Jay and I's birthday, mother's day, graduation, memorial day, the delivery of the headstone, we have had a pretty good week this week. It is hard to say if there is such a thing as feeling better, because I don't really think there is. I think it is a matter of feeling better about not feeling better. We went to Carter's baseball game on Tuesday. I kept looking around at all the familiar faces and thought that I am so glad Tyler had an opportunity to grow up here. You can't buy small town. I am thankful that I am surrounded by people who knew Tyler, will remember Tyler, and Carter and Cassie will grow up with those same people. Tyler is part of here and there isn't that anonymity that you find in bigger cities. I see that Tyler's car is part of the 2010 Turkey Day shirt. We were pleasantly surprised when that came out in the paper today. After living here for over 20 years, I will have to break down and buy my FIRST Turkey Day shirt.

Back to the genetic counseling. This is how she explained Tyler's cancer or how my little brain sort of remembers it. There are spaces in our chromosomes where sometimes chromosomes break apart. in 99% of cases this doesn't matter. In Tyler's case, he had a cell where the X chromosome and 18 chromosome broke but not in the space... they broke in the actual functioning chromosome part. These broken pieces formed to make a super gene which didn't know how to shut off. No one knows why this happens. If we could have caught the tumor immediately, he maybe could have gotten it surgically removed, but who would ever think that a teenager with a little back pain has cancer? goes back to there is no way we would have known to do anything differently. that's why hindsight is always so fantastic. Long story short, no genetic link, but they are going to look at Carter and Cassie's chromosomes just to check them out, but not expecting anything earth shattering to come up. To test or not to test, that was the question of the day. We opted to test, but could have gone the other way just as easily. I can't say knowing something might happen is better than not knowing. We will always at this point feel like something is barking at the backdoor. Cancer has changed how we view life irrevocably.

The garden is done. Please stop by and see it if you are in the neighborhood. I am mighty proud of it and feel like it is pretty special. I'd like to think Tyler would too.

graduation

2010-06-01T15:29:00.000-07:00

If I was to be totally honest, I didn't want to go to the graduation ceremony. I am so happy for the kids, that's not what I mean. This was the first big 2 x 4 to the head sort of moment that really makes it come crashing home what WE are missing out on. I know Tyler not missing anything... but WE are missing so much. Our minds can only wrap around the finite life we see in front of our eyes, so to have someone die and go to heaven sounds all good, but when you can't possibly understand what heaven is... makes it tough to not feel sad for what you don't have right in front of you. I tried to bury myself head in the sand and do a quiet retreat, but my friends would have none of it and took me out to dinner for my birthday. That's true friends... ones that just show up even though you don't answer your phone.

I have been busy working on my garden. I actually think I am mostly done at this point. I finished up the mulching yesterday. Now it is a matter of watering, weeding, waiting for things to grow, puttering around. I do want to put in a flagstone type path and that will be something to work on. The thing I love about gardening is it is never really done. I can work outside every day and still have something to do if I really want. I had a couple of facebook posts about giving us plants for Tyler's garden. I think that is super. If anyone wants to do that, just let me know. The only stipulation is I have to give you something out of my garden then. My next project is I have to paint the deck. That is not nearly so fun. Any volunteers?? :)

Memorial Day came and went. I know Tyler wasn't a soldier, but he was a fighter. I feel like he died in battle in a way. We visit the cemetery often. It helps that it is so close to our house. The headstone turned out beautiful. We are trying to grow some grass, but it is slow growing. It touches my heart to see the little things that people leave at the grave. I don't want other people to hurt, but I don't want Tyler to be forgotten either. We talk about him all the time. I don't know if that is strange or not or makes other people feel strange, but neither Jay or I seem to be able to help it.

Our doggie Dixie is doing super. The kids are out of school now so I'm sure that will be more fun now for them. Cassie went camping with her friend this weekend. Jay took Carter and his friend fishing Friday, so we have been eating fish, fish, fish. It is very hard for Jay to do these "boy" things because it really hits home that Tyler is not here. It becomes a trick to balance grief with living for all of us. Where do you draw the line of avoiding pain and walking with pain? I think grief is like a lump in your throat that never goes away that you have to swallow around. I wonder do you get used to it? I would imagine it just becomes a part of who you are. I am planning our first camping trip this summer in a couple weeks. We are just going to our "usual" spot at Hungry Man. Again, this will be sad and happy... let's just say sappy. That is my new name for me. Sappy.

Tyler Shipman Memorial Car Show

2010-06-01T15:11:00.000-07:00

The only changes I would make to the flyer are tenting/camping would be fine at our house - just let us know.

Consider yourself invited to the party at our house Friday night. I would say any time after 4 p.m. is fine to show up, but we don't really have a set time. I think we are going to do turkeys - for turkey days - and pork loins. Not sure what else. If you want to bring chips/dessert/whatever, feel free but you don't have to. It will be a first come, first eat, type of situation :) We are thinking of it like an open house type of deal. BYOB if you want.

2010-05-19T19:55:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone. Been a tough few weeks. First Jay's birthday, then Mother's Day, then my birthday, now graduation on Sunday. Nothing like getting hit with a million things at once. Cindy and I got a really good start on Tyler's memorial garden on Saturday. After about 14 hours of some seriously hard labor, the stream is in, flowers and tree planted, and things are shaping up. I have been doing some rock work on the stream the last few nights. I have some sort of water leak somewhere and I keep arranging and rearranging and rearranging. Mom summed it up and said you raised Tyler for 18 years and it wasn't always easy, so this shouldn't be either. I said if Tyler was here it would look at it and say "Mom looks like a lot of work." It feels good to work on something though. That is the thing about gardening. It is puttering and tinkering and you are never quite done. I love it.

We got our dog the end of April. Dixie or flushie as Jay calls her. She is cute as a button and likes to sit on my lap while I am working. The kids are having a ton of fun with her. It is a lot of work. I get up in the night to let her out, her hair has to be brushed everyday, and lots of trips outside to "go potty." I have to say.. I have never trained a dog and this is our first doggie in the house, but I think it is going pretty good. She is about 1.7 pounds as of a week ago. her new trick is making it out of the house and down the deck steps and back up and in the house all by herself. no small thing considering how little she is. It only took me 3 hours and a 1/2 bag of training treats to get that done. She loves to get DIRTY! Not so good with her long white hair. Carter was out hunting birds today and Dixie was fetching them. Somehow I didn't think of a Maltichon as a hunting dog, but what do I know. I guess they were enjoying themselves even though I thought it was a little gross.

Tyler's headstone came on my birthday, yesterday. How do you look at that? Good? Sad? I don't know. Like so many things nothing is just straightforward. I will say that the headstone is beautiful. Stop by and see it.. it turned out just how Tyler wanted it in my estimation.

Graduation is on Sunday. I think this is going to be the hardest thing yet. I wish I could just stick my head in the sand and pretend it wasn't happening. I don't want to take away any happiness that the seniors are feeling, but I know seeing us can sometimes make people sad. I always told Tyler that not graduating was never an option. I used to tease him all the time. He turned 18 last summer so he was 18 during his senior year, but he knew he had to finish. For him not to make it is so heartbreaking, but yet he has gone on to the ultimate graduation.

Kind of tired. Will catch up more later

2010-04-18T22:36:00.000-07:00

Been a while since I was on here. Did you know you can hide in plain site? I think I might be becoming a master at that. We had some pretty big days come and go, Easter and 2 months. The sky didn't some crashing down on us, but the best word is probably melancholy. On Easter we took the yellow Fiero and red Fiero out for several drives. Maybe you saw the yellow streak going up and down highway 87 and thought of Tyler. I closed my eyes and wished he was driving. We are anxious to get the headstone in but it won't be for another 6 weeks or so. We planted grass on the grave site last weekend. Not something I would have thought of in my "before," but seeing his grave without grass and a little sunken down bothered me more than I can explain. It is silly I know, he is not there, but its hard not to think of his body under that ground. I don't like it one bit. I am also having a hard time being around other people with kids Tyler's age. I am not too proud to say it is downright jealousy and envy that fuels that feeling. As you can see by the time of this post that I am not sleeping... again. Makes 6 a.m. come pretty early, but this happens a couple times a week.

We were going to go to the hospice support group for parents who have lost kids last week and chickened out.... yes the correct word is chickened. When we are around our regular friends and family no one really gets into the deep rawness of what is underneath the somewhat put together exterior. I am almost afraid to talk to someone who with one look could verbalize and really really understand the thoughts that twirl around my head. There are moments when I have some mighty black thoughts that would shock you. There are moments when I am giving myself a pep talk.. either out loud or in my head. There are moments when I want to scream and I don't really know why. There are thoughts I have about this situation that I really can't talk about with anyone "normal" so I talk to Jay and he talks to me. Maybe next month we will work up the courage to go to the meeting.

All in all, we are keeping busy. The kids are counting down the days of school. The flowers are poking up. My friend is coming to help me with the Memorial Garden for Tyler the first week of May. It is getting warmer outside and we even had a bonfire tonight. I look at all the signs of spring and just wish so badly that Tyler could have made it longer... long enough to feel the sunshine on his face and smell the grass on his feet. I hate that he died in the cold winter. I hate that spring came anyway. This feeling of loss as a parent is horrific, but if the alternative was never knowing Tyler I wouldn't even consider it. I will bear this pain for the rest of my life, but I will never regret being his mother. To be slightly corny, the dance by Garth Brooks came to my mind today. I would have missed the pain, but I'd have to miss the dance. The pain is the price we are going to pay, but hopefully some day the joy of his life will crowd out the pain of his death.

Well... I better TRY to get some sleep. To anonymous who saw me at All in All... next time just come and say hi. I usually don't bite too hard :) Actually I was having kind of a rough afternoon that day and could have used a hug at that exact time.

2010-03-30T17:28:00.000-07:00

I should be knitting because it is Tuesday but tonight was Carter's wrestling potluck. We used to go to these when Tyler was in wrestling too. We stopped by Tyler's locker and saw that the kids have hung up a sort of banner to sign their names on and write notes. One of the notes said something along the lines of "this isn't goodbye, it's just hey see you later." It was pretty touching. It is finally getting to be spring here and my lillies are poking through the soil. It's so sad really.

It's so easy to believe in God when things are going right. I never really understood fully the meaning of doubting Thomas until now. As Christians, it seems as if we are never supposed to voice any doubts. We are never supposed to say we question our faith. Well...I would be a liar if I didn't admit that just about everyday I doubt. I'm not talking about a little doubt. I am talking about big doubts. This may be shocking to say this out loud, in public, for everyone to hear. The reason I say this is maybe someday, somebody will read this who is in a similar situation and they will think "I'm so glad I am not the only one." There are days I wish the phone would ring and on the other end a person would say "today I am mad at God for you" instead of "God is with you, God will see you through, God has a plan." I am having a hard time seeing the bigger picture here. Now I am not trying to make anyone fall off the Christian bandwagon so to speak or cause anyone to slip or turn away from God. I am just being very honest. There are days when I think or talk to God in my head steady, sort of like TV static in the background. There are days where I give Him the cold shoulder and feel like telling Him to take a flying leap. I would like to think that these are the days when He is especially close to me. I know deep down that these doubts, fears, anger, and all the raw emotions that seem to come and go are part of this whole experience. I know God is real. I know Tyler is in heaven. That doesn't keep me from wrestling with these issues. Think about if you were on the shore and saw your child drowning and couldn't swim to help him. Think if a lifeguard was standing next to you on the shore and didn't go save him. You would feel helpless and more than a little frustrated with that lifeguard. We have to forgive God. That sounds pretty strange I know, but it is true. As much as we need to heal ourselves and our relationships here, we also need to find a place of forgiveness and rest between us and God. And like earthly relationships, there are days when you feel like it and days that you don't. There is a rope made of many pieces of twine tethering us to God. As a child, the rope is strong, no nicks, no fraying, no cuts. Right now I am angry and cut a piece of that twine daily, but then I knot it back together. I would like to think that by the time I am done with this life, the ball of knots holding my rope together will be so strong that nothing could pull it apart.

Even though that sounds maybe more than a little bitter, really we are doing okay. The kids get up and go to school. I get up and go to work. I make purses in my free time :) Jay has been busy and will be starting work soon. We keep living even though now as parents we are straddling this fence of one foot here, one foot out the door. It is a tearing sensation of wanting to be with Tyler and wanting to be with Carter and Cassidy and knowing that those 2 needs will not meet together any time soon. It's odd and sad and frustrating, but we keep going and I guess that is all we can do.

Tyler Shipman Memorial Scholarship

2010-03-26T13:07:00.001-07:00

In case anyone is interested, my mom and aunts wanted to work on a scholarship in memory of Tyler. It was easiest to run it through the school.

Tyler Shipman Memorial Scholarship
checks payable to: Frazee Area Action Fund
Note Tyler Shipman Memorial Scholarship in check memo
Frazee High School
ATTN: Ta Fett
305 North Lake Street
Frazee, MN 56544

2010-03-20T20:16:00.000-07:00

It has been a while since I have been on there. I can't really believe it has been as long as it has. I have started to write a number of times and I just get stuck. It was so much easier when Tyler was here even though he was sick. When he was here, I could go hours or even a day without thinking about anything but what to do next, what had to be done, what Tyler needed, what the other kids needed. Now death covers everything with a sticky film that won't quite wash off. There are so many things that are both sad and wonderful at the same time and I suspect this is just the way life will be now. When I drive through town and see Ty's friends coming out of school, I am so happy that they are together and it is good to see them...actually terrific. At the same time, it makes my heart skip a beat because I want so badly to see Tyler come out that door with that easy smile that he had. You knew when he smiled it went from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. It was genuine and you didn't get one unless he really meant it. Seeing kids his age just plain hurts. I know that is probably not politically correct, but I am fast losing my patience with that anyway. I will say that I get mad inside. I get mad a lot. People ask me all the time how are you doing. I usually paste on that fake smile and say "ok." What I really want to say is I am not okay. I want my son here. I want to complain about silly things like his messy room. I want the chance to make mistakes and have the luxrary to say, "I'm sorry." I want to see him get married, have kids, and make his own life. I'm jealous of everyone else who can talk about wanting their kids to move out, talk about graduation, talk about the everyday things in life that they both love and that drive them nuts about their kids. I am jealous of people who are just at the beginning of something and have so much hope for the future. There are times in your life when you have a fresh clean slate with no mistakes, no regrets, no reason for impatience or anger. Your first date, the day your child is born, the first day of a new job, the first time you meet a new friend. All of these things are new beginnings and I feel like my life is just about endings right now. Don't tell me that I'm lucky to have 2 other kids. I don't want to hear it. I love them, but they are not a replacement. They are not Tyler, they are themselves and have their own place in my heart. They don't just fill this empty spot in my life. In short, I am mad because people around me aren't hurting like I am. Now that I have probably ticked everyone off that I know, let me also say that I would never, ever, in a million years WANT anyone to feel like I do. That is not the point. These feelings are things that ramble around my head. This might be why I am quiet or don't smile as easily or don't answer the phone. This doesn't mean I don't want you to talk to me about what is happening in your everyday normal life. It just means I need to develop sort of a callous about it so I can honestly feel happy for you in a way I don't right at this second. Just as no one knows what to say to me, I don't know what to say to you either. I know I don't want people to stop calling/talking/seeing me, but I also know that I don't want people to call/talk/see me. Makes no sense, but nothing about this does.

I have been officially back to work full time for 2 weeks now. It is going well. Once I got over the hump all the welcome backs, I was able to settle into more of my regular routine. Work is a constant, something I am good at, and somewhere I am needed. It fills an empty day and gives me a sense of ownership. In short, I love my job and it makes me feel good. I am all about that...I will take it where I can get it.

On a bright note, I am still going to Tuesday knitting. I actually finished ONE mitten. I am too embarrassed to even take a picture. It would be perfect for a gigantic yetti lurking in the woods to wear. The Tuesday women got a good chuckle when I put it on as a sock. I guess I could wear it that way if I grew some sort of weird appendage to fill the thumb. I am not giving up though. I am going to try it again with smaller needles. I am nothing if not persistent. I had sort of a revelation why this Tuesday thing is so relaxing for me. All of these women never really knew the "before" me. They only know the "after" me. Sometimes it is so hard to be the "before" me for my friends and family. It is so much work. I am broken in some places that can't be band-aided up for no one to see. I am different. These women don't know that. They have no expectations or memories of me when I used to laugh more, smile easier, take life for granted. They didn't know me before I didn't want to go home because walking in the door is like an assault of memories so thick I have to tell myself to breath. They didn't know me before I cried everyday and begged God for just one more hug, just one more conversation, just one more second. They didn't know me before things made me bitter in a place that I am afraid to face. If I don't talk or smile or in short be "myself," they don't know the difference. There is a weird sort of peace in that. I miss my old self. I guess I am grieving that loss too. But there is a new me forming. I can feel her sometimes. She is strong to the core and knows she can do anything. She is becoming independent because life is too short to not do things that make her happy and she knows that she deserves that. She knows that sometimes someone needs to take care of her and that this only makes her stronger. She is not afraid to cry, because crying is not weakness; it is truth. She is smart, she is a good mom, and she knows that being perfect is not something that is ever going to happen. She is sad, but she can still stand on her feet and walk. She is not afraid to both question God and trust Him at the same time. She is me, and I am her. She is before and after. I will never be the "Nellie" you used to know and maybe this is a loss you need to grieve. I hope that whoever is reading this, whoever you are to me, that you can meet this new woman and put her before and after together like a puzzle piece and love me for who I was, who I am and who I am becoming.

2010-03-10T16:06:00.000-08:00

It was back to work on Monday for me and it wasn't as bad as I thought. I was a little nervous first because I have to get up at the butt crack of dawn to go to work and I have been off my schedule for so long. I was tired Monday, but it was a good tired. It felt good to do something I know I do well, that I can control, that I can concentrate on. I am very fortunate to love my job... no kidding. That right there is a blessing of epic proportions at a time like this. I don't know what I would do if going to work felt like drudgery or I didn't like what I was doing or who I was working with. I have always liked working from home, but now the silence seems to mean something entirely different than what it used to. I keep listening for Tyler to walk in the door and say "Hey mom what's for supper." Yesterday I felt like I was ready to crawl out of my skin. I kept thinking, "OK, I am ready to wake up now, I am ready to be done with this, I am ready for this to be just a dream." I can't really describe any better than that. It was sort of a nervous twitch all day. It's not that I am in denial of what has happened. It is more like all of a sudden I am baffled that it actually HAS happened. How could this possibly have come to pass? So work is therapy and it was when Tyler was sick too. It is something I am in charge of. I would like to say I am not a control freak, but it's a problem. I like my schedule and to know what is happening today, tomorrow, next week, otherwise I feel like a leaf floating in the wind.

My mom said something interesting to me yesterday. She said she thought that a crisis like your child having cancer would bring a family closer together. I mentioned on the caring bridge that cancer was like an atom bomb going off in your family and when the dust settled you have to hope you are still around and not too damaged by shrapnel. The bomb was cancer and now we are in the after shock stage of things. Cancer did not bring our family together. The problem was everything happened so fast that we didn't have time to learn any coping skills. We all just had to hang on for the ride and try to muddle through. There was no choice. We did a lot of things wrong and we didn't support each other like we could have(meaning Jay and I), and the stress was not something that I can explain that anyone would understand who hasn't been in our position. Emotions run so high and close to the surface. As I have said before, it is easier to be angry than to feel something deeper about what is happening to you. The overwhelming feeling of helplessness watching your child die should incapacitate you and it nearly did us. BUT, I would like to stress that we did a lot of things right too. Those are the things I think about more and more and more. I feel like in so many ways we were fortunate to have the amount of time we did, and now Tyler is at peace. We know he is in heaven. He has no cancer. He is not in a wheelchair. He has no pain. He is sitting at the feet of God right at this moment. I can't be sad that he isn't suffering, but it hurts every second of every day knowing that I can't touch him, hug him, tell him I love him. My point is this... you can't possibly understand the dynamics of what we went through unless you have lived it. Now is the time where we have to dust ourselves off, pick ourselves up, and find each other and ourselves in this aftermath. This is what we are doing. NOW is when a family pulls together I think. We share so much sadness, but we also share the greatest joy of having had Tyler for almost 19 years. No one else on this earth has that in exactly the same way. The entire time Tyler was sick we could hear the clock ticking in the background no matter what we were doing. Tyler LIVED in his last months more than he ever should have. He didn't complain. He smiled. He had fun. It was us as parents that were constantly on edge, thinking about the clock, frustrated we couldn't fix what was happening.

So now we are trying to do our best to take it day by day or minute by minute. I think we are doing OK. We are all talking about our feelings, what happened, memories good and bad. Carter is doing much better in my opinion. He was slightly out of control there for a while - that might be an understatement. Cassie is doing very well too. Jay and I are hanging in there. As I said, work is good for me. Jay is keeping busy fixing this and that. The bottom line is the foundation of a family is that you love one another. A tornado came and took our house out, but the foundation is still standing. Rebuilding is difficult but not impossible and so very worth it. It's very strange that there are so many moments when I can close my eyes and just feel peace...the peace that passes understanding. I don't understand how I am not a raving lunatic... or at least not a raving lunatic 24 hours a day.

Through this whole ordeal, we have had so many good things happen to us and for us. I have said that many times. Here is another example. A gentleman named Chris who is from Detroit Lakes and works in Cabos at a resort donated a trip to Cabos for our benefit if you remember. A couple of days before Tyler passed he sent a letter to us, which didn't arrive until the Monday after Tyler passed. It read "by the time you get this, Tyler will probably be in heaven..." He sent us a week stay at his resort. We just have to get there. We really didn't think much of it at the time of course because we were dealing with the funeral, etc. A week or so later we were talking about it and decided we were going to take him up on this in December to hopefully make Christmas a little easier (this is thanks to my sister Krys' poking me in the butt with a stick). I contacted him and we set it up for the first week of December. Then I went to find plane tickets and was so disheartened because of the cost of airfare for all 4 of us to fly there and back. It was looking like we wouldn't be able to go. The next day I was looking again on the internet for tickets and just gave up. About an hour later, one of the guys from the Fiero web site called out of the blue. They had taken up a collection for Tyler's flowers they sent (the beautiful big yellow arrangement) and he wanted to send us a check for the balance. I said, "Oh that is so nice." I was thinking a couple hundred dollars or so. He then told me the check was for around 3600. I almost fell down. I proceeded to tell him, probably sounding a little manic, about this Mexico trip. This money will buy our tickets, pass ports, and give us an ample amount of spending money. You have no idea what a monster blessing that was. Today I got approval to have that week off from my supervisor, so everything has just clicked into place. Isn't that the coolest story ever? If you learn nothing else from our sad story, I hope everyone sees that there are so many good people in this world who are kind, generous, and selfless. I want to be like that.

Speaking of the Fiero crew, they are coming to Frazee the weekend of July 24 for the first annual Tyler Shipman Fiero get together. It has a different name than that, but it's not coming to me. People from all over the country are coming with their cars. We decided we are going to have a big 'ol get together at our house that Friday, roast a hog, hang out, etc. I am very excited about this, although the guys have been giving me grief that we won't fit everyone in our yard. I just said we could throw a few of them in the weeds if we need to. If anyone is in the area, plan on stopping by. Graduation is going to be very hard. We should be planning for that and we can't. I guess we are substituting one for the other and I think it will be a good thing to look forward to. I am hoping to get a good start on my memorial garden for Tyler in the backyard before then. I am leaning towards using mostly yellow flowers to match his Fiero. My gardening pro friend Cindy said she would help me work up a plan. I just keep picturing yellow blooming flowers, the sound of water, the shade of the tree in the backyard.

Last but not least, my knitting circle.... I went again last night. OK, to be quite frank my mitten looks the same as it did last week. It's also big enough to fit a sumo wrestler. I spent the whole time talking everyone's ear off last night and I cannot knit and talk at the same time. I can barely knit when I'm not talking. They probably DO think I am a lunatic. I spend all day in the silence of my house, so it's like a dam breaking when I open my mouth sometimes. There is also something about talking with people who are not in the thick of what is going on in your life. Maybe it's their objectivity? I don't know. I stopped by hospice before going there and ran into Leslie - our Mopar lady as Tyler called her. I am very surprised how emotional it was for me to see her. There is a support group there once a month for parents who have lost kids and I know I am going to go next month. I told Leslie she had to come to the Fiero get together. She said she would bring her Dodge. I will need a volunteer to pass Tyler's torch of giving Leslie constant crap about being "the Mopar lady." Anybody?

Oh.. and the puppies were born last weekend. I am getting a girl and naming her Dixie. They are Maltichon pups and cute as a button. I am going to have to start knitting a sweater! Although at the rate I knit, it wouldn't be done until next year at this time.

2010-03-05T16:30:00.000-08:00

Cassie and I are back from Fargo. We had a busy but fun day. We went to the mall, to Toy R Us, to see the movie Alice and Wonderland, and ate at Olive Garden. All in all not to bad for a birthday party alternative. I am tired, tired, tired. Jay and Carter went "up north" fishing with some other guys, so they are having fun too or so I interpret with our limited cell reception in that region. Sounds like Carter is once again proving he is an expert fisherman.

I have never been one to subscribe to the notion that every good thing that happens to me is because of God seeing how good I am and blessing me and every bad thing is God smiting me or something. Bad things happen to good people every day. If God took something or someone precious away from me every time I did something horrible, there would be nothing left in my life. Now I don't profess to be any sort of theologian, this is just my opinion. This is not to say God isn't present, with us, helping us. I can look back on my life and see many places where I could have turned left instead of right or went straight instead of crooked. My childhood wasn't the easiest, but I have great memories and a very tight loving family. I am the sum of my life experience. There are parts of me that are tough as nails. I am independent and stubborn. I believe God was with me every step and misstep of my life. I don't think this happened to our family because of anything we did to deserve this. Our bodies are a great creation. The way they work is amazing. Unfortunately we have disease. What makes me angry is that anyone should ever have to die of cancer. It makes me angry that there isn't better treatment. Is this God's fault? I don't think so.

When Tyler was born he fought like crazy to make it. I wouldn't trade a day of his 18 years. He wasn't a perfect kid, but he was ours. There were a couple years in there where him and I butted heads almost daily. I would tell you it is because he is more like me than he would ever admit, but he would probably tell you different if he was here. I was pretty strict with him when he was little, but I don't regret that either. Jay would say to Tyler all the time that he had "mama" wrapped around his little finger. All he had to do was give me that look and ask and I would agree. I also don't regret that. The pain I feel, Jay feels, Carter and Cassie feel, you feel is so great only because the love was also so great. I would never want to take away the love I feel for Tyler, so the pain of losing him now becomes part of that. I might not smile as easily as I used to. I might not be quite the same ever again. I am still here though and I love my other kiddos just as much as Tyler. Now the challenge is to give them the same memories that Tyler had, the same good times. Hopefully Cassie will look back on today years down the road and remember a fun day with mom. I know I will.

I seem to be preaching tonight. Probably a little indigestion from too much pasta at Olive Garden. I am going to go watch Where the Wild Things Are with Cassie. I remember reading that book to Tyler many times. Maybe I will even do a little knitting. My mitten is actually looking "sort of" like a mitten. I am going to have to take a picture if/when I ever get it done.

2010-03-04T08:35:00.000-08:00

The knitting night was a hit. That is definitely on my radar from this point forward. Unfortunately my mitten looks the same as when I arrived but I am confident that will get better. I am nothing if not tenacious once my teeth are in something. It felt good to be a part of something that is just mine. That might sound selfish, but it is very easy to lose your own identity going through an event like this. I am still me; I am just a different me.

We picked out Tyler's headstone on Tuesday afternoon too. I am glad that we got this done right away. I think it is going to be very special and we should have it by Memorial Day. I have always said, much to my husband's and mother's dismay, that I wanted to be cremated. Now I can see that is not something I would ever want. It's not that a grave is really the person, it is more that visiting a grave is a place of peace and quiet to reflect on the life no longer hear, the present we are left to deal with, and the future we have yet to unfold. I have been avoiding Tyler's grave like the great plague, but yesterday actually walked from my house to the cemetery. I wanted to go for a walk and I just kept going until I was there. It might be 5 miles or so. I expected some great ball of grief to overwhelm me and bring me to my knees, but I find the same sadness there as anywhere. It is a nagging melancholy that sits on the edge of everything. Even when I'm laughing and having fun, I can feel grief waiting for me. I don't think you get over grief, I think you have to learn to live with it. It is not something that will ever go away. Needless to say, my butt and legs are so sore today that I can hardly stand up. So much for my awesome physical prowess.

Friday is Cassie's 9th birthday. I am just not up to a party with a house full of giddy girls, so I told her that she could skip school on Friday and we would go to Fargo for a girlie day, maybe catch a movie, have lunch, go for hot chocolate/coffee. She was completely up for that. Carter's birthday was in October in the middle of our hospitalization period and he didn't have party or anything either. This goes back to cancer not being an individual problem... it is a family problem. Tyler had cancer, but the fallout affected everyone. Jay and I were reading Job the other night. I never really thought about it, but can you imagine what he felt like when he lost all of his children, servants, and livestock in the span of minutes? Why would God let satan test Job like that? The Bible says Job was blameless and a good man, but it is like God was just so flip about the whole thing. Go ahead and test him, go for it. I guess it could also be interpreted as God was so confident in Job that He knew he'd be okay.

Well... next week I am back to work 40 hour. I am glad and also a little panicked. It's been a long time since that part of my life was regular. Hopefully they still want and need me. Working from home has been a blessing for our family and I am so grateful for that. Anyway, I know it will be a busy week of trying to get back on track, so we will see.

2010-03-02T07:49:00.000-08:00

I had a wonderful time on the women's retreat this weekend. I felt I might describe rejuvenated. It made me feel like I want to be something more, something better. How to do that feels out of reach right now. I feel like that baby on the Simpsons who walks and trips on her blanket every few steps. I just keep falling and getting up, falling and getting up. It was hard coming home. Walking in the door was a little like walking from an air conditioned building into the heat of summer. It takes a minute to readjust. I mentioned before there is something about being around other women that feels like a band-aid and I do think that is very true. Whether we have kids or not, women are built with that desire to nurture in my opinion. Women get together and talk about feelings and it makes us feel good. Guys have something similar, but I think it makes them feel good to talk about the things they are doing or like to do rather than what they feel. I could be wrong, but just my observation, neither being wrong, just different ways of coping.

I heard on the radio before leaving on Friday that "if you have breath, you have hope." Made me think of Mary's Song that I like so much. The refrain for that says "breath of heaven, hold me together, be forever near me, breath of heaven." I thought, wow. That is very cool. If I am very still and try to feel the "breath of heaven," I have breath, which gives me hope. If I have hope, I can really breath here at this moment. Very circular.

Yesterday I was able to finally get through all the thank you cards with the help of Tam and Cindy. It was a long job, but I am glad to say it is done other than a stack of envelopes that I can't find addresses for or can't read the names. A lot of the cards had memories of Tyler in them. These are so hard to read for me. Jay really likes to read these cards. I get so sad thinking about what might have been if he was here. I find myself doing that daily. After the loss of your child, you don't just mourn the loss of that life, you also have to mourn the loss of your future with that child. It is sometimes so overwhelming that I can't breath. Today we are going to look at granite for a headstone. This is going to be very difficult but we both feel pretty strongly to get going on this rather than wait. If feel like his grave is naked without it. Even though I myself can't bring myself to go there, I want anyone who does to see his name and that he was loved and special. My sister-in-law Tam who lost her mom to cancer 10 months ago mentioned yesterday that her dad said something along the lines of "cancer didn't win. it is in the ground. mom is in heaven." It sort of blew me away. I never did focus on cancer around Tyler. We talked about regular things. If you think about it, cancer didn't beat Tyler. He was himself until the end. He did not give into despair. He did not give into cancer. His body gave out, but his spirit isn't dead. When I do visit his grave, instead of looking down at the remnants of cancer, I am going to look up and feel the sun on my face and think of Tyler "dancing with the angels." Maybe that will help.

Getting back to a new routine is not as easy as you might think. We all have a void that is like a black hole pulling at us constantly. Carter finally got caught up with homework on Sunday after another 3 hours of work. I am very glad that hurdle is behind us at least. Last week was so stressful to begin with, let alone all the catchup work he had to do. Cassie seems to be doing well. She has such an innocent trusting faith that it makes me jealous at times. The pastor was here yesterday and he said "what do you do to make you feel better?" She said without hesitation "pray." Jay and I are trying to muddle through this. Our marriage was also affected by this of course. Imagine being locked in the same room with your spouse for 4 months pretty much nonstop. I don't think there are many of us that can honestly say that would be a good thing. Now we are different people trying to deal with all of these big emotions. There are times when it is good to be together, because we will forever share Tyler in a way that no one on this earth will. That in itself is a double edged sword. Sometimes it is difficult to be together because two grieving people don't always communicate effectively. The big thing here is going to be forgiveness, which is what the pastor mentioned to us as well. Forgive perceived wrongs, forgive high emotions or insensitivity, forgive as we are forgiven. Much easier to type than put into an action plan, but good enough advice.

I better go face this day. I have a heavy heart after all the thank you notes and thinking about the headstone, but one step in front of the other. I am going to go to a ladies knitting group tonight for a few hours. Now that is funny. Tyler would have a good laugh about that and make fun of me unmercifully. Some gals at the retreat this weekend get together every Tuesday, and I think it will be good for me to have a new activity. The other good news is I got a call yesterday that puppies are due in a week or two. For those of you who don't know, we were getting a Maltichon puppy last fall before Tyler got sick, but then had to opt out due to all that was going on with our family. I have never been a dog in the house person, but either the timing was right, my kids were older, or I am going senile, but I was so excited I read 2 books, did tons of online research, bought I won't name how many dollars of treats and stuff, and even started crocheting my doggie a sweater. Tyler and I talked about this a few times. He said more than once he wished we could have got the dog. So I am going to go forward and get this dog and enjoy it. It will be ready around my birthday in May. Something to look forward to.

emotions

2010-02-25T17:51:00.000-08:00

I don't know if this is just me, but right now especially I can have more than one emotion but the stronger one at the time is the prominent one. I seem to see-saw between anger and sadness. When I am angry, I don't feel sad and visa versa. Anger feels better than sadness. Anger is easier to cope with. I can be angry at God and doubt him, feel like I'm being punished, feel just honestly like screaming at God for handing this ridiculous task of living after our child died to us. Unfortunately, God isn't here to be mad at. The people closet to you are always easier to yell at, get frustrated with, hold a grudge about. I am certainly no stranger to being angry at people around me... for no apparent reason sometimes... overreacting, blowing up, freaking out, whatever you want to name it. I'm not quite as inspirational up close and personal believe me. Just to keep it real, so you know, guess what... I am not anything super or great. Last night I completely overreacted to Carter and not sitting still while doing his homework. This quickly transferred like wildfire to Jay. Anger is like that. Give it a little wind, and you better call the fire truck because you are in big trouble. It is so much easier to be angry, but like with any drug which might give you a brief high or escape, the world always comes crashing back to smack you in the forehead. So, I was mad, now I'm sad, but looking forward to this weekend. I felt like today I wouldn't go. Felt like, you know what, I am never going to be good enough, perfect enough, to deserve happiness, forgiveness, God's love or anyone else's, so why bother? That is not right, I know, but I can't be the only one out there who ever travels that dead end road. Anyway, my good friend T called and just with a few words I am back on track with going this weekend again. Fickle is the mind of the mother in the midst of her grief. Tattoo that on your hand so you know that is me for maybe forever.

Anyway, I will be leaving in the morning tomorrow before I can change my mind. I can almost feel the healing love of my friends now. There is something about being with a group of women that feels like chicken soup when you have a bad cold or a band-aid on a scraped knee. I don't know how that happens, but it is true. So girls, here comes the imperfect, emotional, sort of crazy lady you call friend.

as a side note, can you believe the caring bridge web site has more than 100,000 hits? what an awesome tribute to my son and the human race in general.

the day after yesterday

2010-02-24T13:45:00.000-08:00

Isn't that the thing... it is always the day after yesterday. Will tomorrow be better? I guess we don't ever know the answer to that, but I hope for that. We have had a few people mention this will be the year of "firsts." I anticipated this before, but had a pretty tunnel vision of how this would go. I expect graduation to be exceedingly painful, birthday, holidays especially Christmas, but no one told me I would overwhelm myself with other firsts. A few examples: First time I went to Wal-Mart to just buy milk. In the last 4 months there hasn't been a time I haven't had an agenda to find some juice box or food that Tyler wanted or might eat or drink. The first time we took communion without Tyler. Today was the first time I washed my sheets. Now this one sounds silly, but the last time I touched Tyler alive I slept on those sheets. I can go on and on with these ridiculous thoughts that scramble through my brain and cause me to lose it daily. No one prepared me for this. I didn't know.

The craziest things can upset the applecart. Tyler was so excited to buy Girl Scout cookies from his cousin Allison. He talked about it for days. We always run out of the caramel coconut ones you see, so he was set on buying a whole bunch for himself. "He said what else better do I have to spend my money on?" He asked me right away if the cookies would get here in time. At the time of this, he was doing so well, so I assured him no problem. My sister ended up bringing them this weekend. He missed it. I saw the boxes of cookies and just wanted to throw them away. I am trying to instead look at this as a good story. Tyler was going to ration these cookies to Jay, so I have now taken up this most important position for Tyler. Again sounds crazy, but I have been thinking about this a lot. Maybe if I tell this story one more time I keep thinking I won't feel like bawling when we crack open a box... one box of about 40 I might add. Tyler assured we wouldn't run out any time soon. If I appear to be putting on a few pounds, you will now know why.

The big decision for me today, which I actually just made, was deciding to take a friend of mine up on going to a women's bible retreat entitled "rest and restoration." I battle with if I should be doing things that might make me smile or laugh. Am I not grieving correctly if I am seen smiling? Should I be seen out and about doing "normal" things? Is this the right way to do things? Do I cloister myself for a certain period of time? I "know" there is no "right or wrong" way to act, but again these are the things I think about. Everything becomes a question mark. Anyway, after struggling with this all day, the pastor was over this afternoon and I decided to go. Maybe I will find a little peace this weekend.

I have heard a few times today to go through your problems and not around them. I am wondering slightly if I went around cancer versus through it. It all seems so surreal to me. There are brief moments when I can't believe it actually happened. The question would be was I sugar coating the whole thing up in my head while it was going on and now death has hit me like a 2 x 4 in the forehead? I think I lived so much in the moment of what needed to be done, what was happening right at that moment, that maybe now that I am sitting still it hurts so bad. This brings you to the wonderful world of "regret." Let me tell you... there are a million and one things you can think on with regret when your child dies. This is something I do not want to get caught up in, so I won't even give them a name on here, but I realize logically that beating myself up for stuff doesn't help and Tyler loved me despite my faults. I keep going back to that last time when we went camping (pic on caring bridge). I can almost hear his laughter when I look at that picture. Those are the things that I need. Now I just have to convince my brain to stay in that frame of mind.

When Tyler was in the hospital, they made a ceramic statue of just his hand. I held his hand yesterday for a while. It was both horrible and healing at the same time. I think maybe today was better than yesterday. At least the funny farm folks haven't come banging on the door just yet. That has to be some sort of accomplishment right?

My good friend Cindy printed the entire caring bridge journal and guestbook entries for us on beautiful card stock and put in a binder for the funeral. I can't look at it right now, but maybe in the future. For now, it is on a shelf by our picture albums.

well here i am...

2010-02-23T14:52:00.000-08:00

I guess I am addicted to blogging, either that or I am just narracistic and like to talk about myself. The truth of the matter is I found the caring bridge a helpful spot to sort out stuff. My sister suggested a blog, so here we are.

Well, the funeral is over and now here I am. I am left with a what do I do now sort of feeling. When we were still in the hospital, someone there said something along the lines of someone will be a doer and someone will be a sitter for this experience. Neither is right or wrong, both need to be done. I was the doer, Jay was the sitter. Jay was by Tyler's bed pretty much 24/7 and I am grateful for that. I was the doer, taking care of housework, laundry, shopping, and just the stuff that needs to be done on a regular family basis and also doing most of the medical care for Tyler (which again I am so glad I could do). Now I have nothing to do... not that those regular family things don't need to be done... but it feels like no one really needs me anymore. I handled cancer well, at least I think, but handling death is a whole other matter. I am a sloppy mess living on the couch mostly. I cry all the time. I can't go upstairs because all I think about is Tyler died there. my house is a total disaster, although I did actually do laundry today. The thought of sympathy cards makes me cringe. My sister Krys was here the last couple days and made me get off the couch. To be honest, I didn't want to do any of this, but had fun in spite of myself. I told Tyler I wouldn't cry in front of him when he was in the hospital and we were told he was terminal. I did keep this promise to the best of my ability, but now it feels like niagra falls has taken roost in my eyes. So much for my inspirational facade. It always made me scratch my head when people said that anyway.

Jay has been out doing things, around people, and this helps him. I just don't know how to do that yet. When Krys and I went to have a pedicure the lady asked me how many kids I had... what a benign mundane question that we just throw out there without thinking to strangers. It is kind of like asking about the weather. I was like a deer in the headlights. Did I really want this stranger to know about my business? Could I really discuss this without becoming a big mess? I ended up saying I had 2 kids and felt like total crap all day. I know there is probably no right way or wrong way to handle this, but Jay suggested next time just saying 3, but one is in heaven. That sounds good... wish I would have thought of that myself. Now I will replay that conversation in my head only a million times and feel like crap because I pretty much ignored the fact that Tyler was my son.

I am taking this week and next week off. Maybe once I go back to work it will feel more regular here. As dysfunctal as it sounds, we had a routine once Tyler came home. It was not a schedule per se, but it was the things we needed to do and did. Now we can't really go back to before, not ever, but how do I move on? How in the world is anyone supposed to get back to living after their child dies?

People ask how are you? what can I do? I don't know. I am sad, mad, confused, sad again, and on and on. I feel like Tyler's death is a period at the end of a sentence, an end to a long sad affair, for everyone else but our family. Now we are beginning the hard stuff. Learning to live without Tyler is going to be much harder than living with Tyler with cancer. So here begins my journey. Maybe this blog will help, maybe this will be a fleeting thing, who knows. Today I felt like writing.