School bus stops near 26 angels in Monroe, CT, on way to school from Newtown.

I can only imagine how difficult it must have been in Newtown this morning. Parents of surviving children put those children on buses, or drove them to their new school in Monroe, CT. I can imagine the uncertainty, and maybe even terror, of letting those children out of their sights for the day. Kids are pretty resilient, we parents have a harder time moving past some things, being all too aware of the horror out there. On Dennis' 1st day at high school, I hung around and did a drive by or 2, making sure he made it down the trail from the drop-off ok. He was a little guy, and his brother was dead. And I worried.
Though I was usually one for instilling them with independence, I fought Dennis riding his bike to HS. The year that Tim died, he was riding to school 1 day early in the school year, he hit a rock and went flying. His helmet was cracked, but the head was fine. His worst injury was the brake handle that punctured his abdomen. As I was pulling back into garage after moving the car so he could get his bike, I noticed he did not have his helmet on, so I honked and pointed, and he went into the house to retrieve it. 3 months later he was a pedestrian struck by a car and killed. Ironically, there was no damage from the car, but his head hitting the road was fatal. Had he had a helmet on, he might have survived. But a parent can't really make a child walk around wearing his helmet all day.

Letting go, in any way, shape or form, is hard.

Peace.

Some things on my mind.

An ornament from an unknown friend.

{Chirstmas}
For many years now (9), my favorite holiday season has been Easter. The long journey of Lent, which if you do it right, can be very arduous, is followed by the hope of resurrection. I am sure I don't even need to explain why that hope of resurrection was so exciting to me. But something changed during Advent of this Christmas. Christmas suddenly became my favorite season again. I can't explain why, what was different in this 9th year after Tim's death. But only that the joy and desire of all this Holy day has to offer maybe broke through the wall protecting my heart a little. And a week or 2 before Christmas I had the thought that without the birth of Christ, there can be no resurrection (I knew this, but had put it aside for many years). And the following Sunday our priest said that exact thing. And right now, our camels and wise men are trekking through our home, on their quest to find the Baby King. It is still Christmas here, and the wise guys will reach their destination on Epiphany, Jan. 6th. (or as we sometimes call it in our house, Epi-fanny)

{Life}
Life is not easy. Life after a trauma in your life is even harder. I am guessing this is true for most people, but there is not a day that goes by that there is not some reminder of our trauma, and that brings a little low point in the day. Not that we go around moping all our days, or live our lives in a funk, we just  go down that roller coaster hill then climb back up again. And for the most part, nobody around us is even aware of our little dips. On the other hand, for me at least, I can also be raised higher by memories of Tim. The roller coaster ride never ends. But how we handle that ride is up to us. We can choose to live again, no matter how hard it might be. Or we can choose to wallow in the miry depths of our despair and never see the light of day again. Life is good if we let it be. It's just not always easy. And we all have our coping mechanisms, and they are not always healthy. It could be drink or drugs, or shutting yourself in. Or like me, eating. It might be healthy, like working through it with exercise, or art. But we can't condemn others for what they need to get through, just offer help and support if they are hurting themselves. But honestly, I am not sure if I chose to live again, or if life chose me.

{The Journey}
As a grieving parent, I have met either in person or online, a lot of other grieving parents. And we are friends exactly because of our shared journey. It is unfortunate, but there it is. I would rather not know these people, but they help me, and I hope I help them. Even if we don't grieve the same, or share the same relationship with our dead children, we know what they are going through, even if the cause of death is vastly different. It doesn't matter, you see, because the end result is still the same, our child has died. We can have more empathy, and a touch of understanding, because we have been there, done that. I have reached out more than once to others who have lost their children, just as others have reached out to me. We don't necessarily offer advice, just knowledge borne of experience. We share what helped us, and we listen. I guess maybe it's kind of like war vets having reunions, because they are the only ones who truly know and understand what the others have been through. And we hate that anyone else has to go through this, but we are so glad not to be alone.

I have other things to share, some issues I have, but am not finding the words to write it here right now, so will save that for another day. And so I leave you with this wish, as always, for


Peace.

And a Blessed New Year.

Holy Innocents Day

Today is December 28, Feast Day of the Holy Innocents. On this day we remember all the young babies killed by King Herod, in his effort to destroy our King of Kings, Jesus Christ.

9 years ago on this day, we held the memorial service for our own innocent child, Tim. Yes, he was older than 2, but he was still our innocent child, and taken from us much too soon. I think of him on this day as much as any other, maybe more. I am sorrowful for all innocent lives lost at any time for any reason. This day, I have especially been mindful of the 20 six and seven year olds in Newtown, CT. What a tragic loss of young, hopeful lives. Jesus said to "suffer the little children to come unto me", and "the kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these". What a beautiful place heaven must be. But it makes me sad to think of all those dear little ones there.

The Thin Veil

Mourning Cloak Butterfly

Way back in May, on Tim's birthday, as Hugh and I wandered back down the trail, a butterfly like the one above was flitting around a small clearing, then fluttered around us on the trail. Now, anytime a butterfly flits around me, or a hummingbird, I feel that it is a small hello from Tim. It gives me a thrill I can not explain. The following week, another Mourning Cloak Butterfly flitted around me at school, and within a few days it happened here at home, out on the sidewalk. 3 encounters within a week's span! I never shared it with anyone until I told my sister about it on her recent visit, and I finally looked up the butterfly with a description on the internet. Imagine my surprise and pleasure when I saw the name of this butterfly! It made perfect sense!

People talk about the "thin veil" between worlds. There are many sites on the internet if you are interested in reading more. I have read a little, and have mixed feelings about what some people have to say about it, and "thin spots", etc. But I have had several dreams of Tim, and I believe each one is a visit from Tim. I can't give scientific proof, or spiritual proof, but that is what I feel. And there are certainly dreams that have had significance in the waking world. For instance, the 2nd dream I had he was in the hospital, and his room-mate was my maternal grandfather. Grandpa died in 1979, and he is a very significant person in my life. To wake from that dream, knowing Tim was with Grandpa (even though it was very early in my grief), gave me a sense of peace. And at one point I was rubbing Baby Magic lotion on Grandpa's arms because they were so dry, and I could smell the Baby Magic (don't recall ever experiencing smell in a dream). It was the lotion both my grandparents used. This was real. 

In another dream, Tim was camping with us, and my Mom and her parents were sleeping in the car. I knew Tim was with them, and at one point I asked him if, since (?) was graduated (not sure if it was supposed to be him or Dennis or what), would he like to move back home? As I asked this, I was picturing in my head the small, real bedroom Dennis sleeps in, and wondering how we would make that work. Tim made it clear to me that he was going to stay, that he was where he belonged. With his Grandma and great-grandparents. 

How can I not see the message here? How can I not, in the waking world, know where he is, who is with him?. How can I not believe that these were real visits with them? In another dream, I hugged him, and felt his bony, skinny frame under my arms. I know I was holding my son. Too brief, and more infrequent as each year passes, I treasure each visit. 

Peace.

Mother's Day

Up at Tim's Meadow, May 10, 2012

It is Mother's Day, and I have been blessed with 4 lovely children. Even if Tim is not here on Earth with us, he is still a blessing in our lives. I am a lucky, blessed woman.

Peace.

Significant Dates

1st Boy Scout summer camp

On the Mist Trail in Yosemite 2002

Body boarding in Narragansett, RI 2000

When a loved one has died, certain dates are a lot harder than others. The holidays will always be hard, and of course birthdays. Also, and it seems especially true for parents who have lost children, the anniversary of the date of death. On some boards and forums, parents refer to these dates as angelversaries. It has been my experience that the days leading up to these dates, or the weeks, are much worse than the actual day. I have experienced much anxiety, nervousness, short temper, deep emotions of all kinds in the days and weeks leading up to Tim's birthday or "angelversary". It has been some very traumatizing times. But each time, no matter how anxious I was in those days or weeks, the actual day was filled with more calm. I did what I needed to do on those days, honoring him as best I could with the family. And it helped to have that time to do so. The past 2 years on Dec 22, I have done kitchen therapy. Making Christmas fudge and other goodies to share with family & friends. I think this tradition will continue, it works. 

Tim's birthday is May 10, just 3 days from today. Yes, he is on my mind more than usual (and he is on my mind every day), but this year, I feel I am running on a more even keel. I wonder, and won't know until December or maybe even next May, if this trend will continue; if, after 8 1/2 years, this issue is no longer an issue. Time will tell. Time, after all, is the great equalizer. 

As we do every year on his birthday, all of the immediate family that are able to, drive up to the mountains and hike up to Tim's Meadow. We bring cupcakes and candles, rocks we have been collecting for him, and flowers I might have dried throughout the year. This year we will celebrate his 24th birthday. And in spite of what I wrote earlier about not having so much anxiety, as I type these words, as I contemplate his 24th birthday, and the fact that he is not here in person to celebrate, I cry. It just seems so unfair. 

Perhaps I should have waited until after his birthday to type this, because I might have created some emotional turmoil for myself just now. But who knows, if not this, maybe something else would have done it. I am glad I have a short work week this week.

I lalu Tim, and I miss you so very much.

Peace

William Wordsworth & Garth Brooks

Tim and his cousin Jordan, July 2003

Someone I love very much once asked me the following question: "If you had the chance to do it again, to have Tim again, knowing you would only have him that short time, and how he would die, would you?" (It's been a long time, those perhaps were not the exact words, but you get the idea). I didn't hesitate, I said, "of course!". I was not offended by the question, or put off by it in the least, but the answer was a no-brainer. Still is. Yes, we only had Tim for 15 1/2 years, but we had Tim for 15 1/2 years! I would not trade that time for anything. His death hurt so much precisely because we loved him so much, and it would be worse not to have that love, that boy. William Wordsworth, in a favorite quote of my husband's, said;

 "I loved the Boy with the utmost love of which my soul is capable, and he is taken from me—yet in the agony of my spirit in surrendering such a treasure I feel a thousand times richer than if I had never possessed it.."

We could not say it any better than that.  And that reminds me of a Garth Brooks song, "The Dance" (written by Tony Arata)

"And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance

 I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance"

As I write this, I am thinking of dear friends of ours. Their oldest son has Duchenne's MD. It is very rare for children with this disease to make it to 30 years of age. They know that every day they have is a gift. 

Peace