M&J Adventure: Sea Life

One of my goals or priorities of self-care is to take some quality time with Jacob and go on some adventures! Mommy & Jacob Adventures! It's surprising almost how many amazing and fun things there are to do within a 3 hour drive! I've a got a list ready for the summer so we'll see how much fun Jacob and I can have! 

Our first adventure was to visit Sea Life at the Mall of America. Neither Jacob or I have ever been. Jacob was excited the whole drive up for his adventure - he didn't yet know where we were going. Once we go there, he wasn't quite sure what to think but got excited again when I said there sharks!

He loved watching the sting rays, following them with the camera viewfinder. He loved the jellyfish and this one tank that had seahorses and a crab. He loved seeing the sharks in the tunnel but after a while just wanted to keep walking. I think I could have stayed there for hours watching all the fish swim by! 

At the gift shop, because I'm a sucker, Jacob got a snapper shark toy (pull the trigger and it open and closes it's mouth). He loved it. 

We had some food at the Rainforest Cafe and Jacob's favorite part of that by far was when a "thunderstorm" would happen. Oh man, he loved that! 

It was a fun afternoon adventure and we got some fun pictures to remember our visit! 

My Not-So-Perfect Life

I just finished reading a book. Like, it's 10:30pm and I should be in bed sleeping but I just finished this book five minutes ago and can't turn off my brain so I'm sitting in the dark blogging. It was a novel - My (not-so) Perfect Life. It was a cute and fun read.

Warning - potential spoiler alert! Basically, the book is about this woman who tries to make it seem like her life is perfect when clearly, it isn't. Mostly done by posting glam'd up pictures to Instagram. In the end, she creates an Instagram account called "my not so perfect life" and posts *real* every day pictures.

At the end of the author's acknowledgements, she writes, "I hope your life lives up to your Instagram posts..." or something to that effect. But I think she's got it wrong. I think we should be saying, "I hope your Instagram lives up to your life." (me attempting to be a philosopher - HA!)

We all do this. We all look at someone else's social media posts and pictures and think, "Wow. They have a perfect life." We look at their pictures and think they've got the fancy house, they go on the fun exotic trips, they've got a big loving family, they've got the ideal job, etc. And in turn, we take a look at our own lives and can only see the struggles, what's wrong, what we don't want but have.

We get trapped in this spiral of jealousy and desire. We get stuck thinking about how our lives are so awful and not what we expected and how does everyone else get so lucky to have it all? But in reality, that's not true.

"Every time you see someone's bright-and-shiny, remember: They have their own crappy truths too. Of course they do. And every time you see your own crappy truth and feel despair and think, 'Is this my life?', remember: It's not. Everyone's got a bright-and-shiny, even if it's hard to find sometimes."

A quote from the book.  Seems so simple but so incredibly hard.

Let me tell you, I've been stuck there before. I've been stuck there too often. I let myself become trapped. And I didn't want to escape that mindset.

But here, in the dark, at 10:47pm, a light goes on in my head. I literally wrote about this in my Word of 2018 post. And my word for 2018 is HOPE. I need to look at my life with HOPE.

HOPE that things will get better.
HOPE for God to give me strength and comfort.
HOPE in trusting God and His overall plan.
HOPE in understanding that I am beyond blessed in my life.
HOPE in knowing that the tomb didn't stay sealed and that Jesus has Risen!
HOPE as a confident expectation of future blessings based on facts and promises.
HOPE IN GOD.

One thing that honestly helps when you're feeling trapped in self-pity and despair - write down at least three things you're grateful for. Or write specifically about something you're grateful about from just that day. I know this works.

And I need to take my own advice and start doing this again. But in addition to writing down something I'm grateful for, I should start adding something I'm hopeful for, as a reminder to keep that HOPE. To understand that HOPE is the same, whether the day has brought joy or sorrow, triumph or tradegdy,  bright and shiny blessings or the quiet, hidden blessings.

Back to Instagram and social media. Maybe don't post only the perfect, edited pictures. Maybe don't strive to make it appear you have it all together. Post the struggles, the heartache, the frustration. Post the silly and undescribable. Post the love and the blessings. Post a little bit of everything. And maybe one day you'll be able to look back at all those posts and think, "Wow. My life was so much more, much more full, than even these posts can show." 

Holy Week in Grief

Holy Week. It comes every year. Lent is always one of my favorite seasons of the church. I appreciate the idea of embracing the darkness because in the end, Jesus will save us all. His light shines brighter than any darkness. No matter how bad you think things are. He will always win.

I've never experienced a Holy Week like this one. Ironically, it's not the first Easter surrounding the death of a loved one. Just one year ago, we lost my Grandpa during Holy Week. But we also knew that his time had come. I understood that his pain and suffering would soon be over, that he would be reunited with my Grandma again and stand in the presence of God. There was grief. But not like a shocking grief.

This Holy Week. There were a lot of feelings. A lot of thoughts about Austin. A lot of thoughts about what it all means, how it all works.

The message on Maundy Thursday was one of love. Throughout the last supper and that last evening, Jesus showed the same love to every single disciple, even Judas, who he knew would be betray him. Jesus tells us, "Love one another as I have loved you." His final commandment.

We will never be able to love as truly and deeply as Jesus did, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try. It's not our place to judge others. Our job is to LOVE. All. Always.

I know this message. I think of it often. I remind myself of it when life gets hard and frustrating. But on Thursday, I felt ashamed because of that message.

I thought of Austin. The last few months we had. We had our differences and disagreements. I would get frustrated and angry. I wasn't living out that commandment. I should have been showing Austin love. He didn't deserve to be treated any differently just because we were having issues. He didn't deserve to be judged. Obviously I didn't know all of his struggles. I should have at least shown him God's love.

But I can't change that. And I'm ashamed of some of my actions. But what I can do is resolve to do better in the future. To treat those I disagree with or get angry at with love. Show them God's love and grace. "Love one another as I have loved you"

Good Friday. That was hard. I couldn't help but think of Austin at his ending. What led up to his ending. Did he feel abandoned? By those he thought loved him? By me? By God? Did he feel alone? And I think that he must have. He must have felt those things. And I can't imagine that pain.

I also thought about those of us who love Austin and who were left behind. "No chance to say goodbye. No way to ease the pain of parting." And this prayer: "For the times when we have not loved, even when we could, failing to carry out the simplest act of mercy, we ask the Father's forgiveness."

Then Saturday. The day that doesn't really get talked about. Unless your life is currently stuck in Saturday. Sometimes others will write something that so clearly states what you can't put into words. A friend, Kayla Becker, wrote something on Facebook that did just that: 

I’ve never really identified with the “Saturday” of Easter before. That silent day in between “Good Friday” and Easter Sunday. The day between the shocking grief and the stunning reality of what His brokenness healed. This Easter I’m stuck in Saturday.

We wear our grief like a cloak now. We’re no longer shocked and disillusioned. The weight of loss is just wrapped around us. And we are reeling as we try to put our lives back together around the trauma of loss. And I understand Saturday in a way I never wanted to.

We know the whole story. We know eventually the stone rolled away. The wounds became what healed us.

For as long as I’ve known the grief of the Friday of Easter I’ve also known the joy of Sunday.

But as for the ones actually written into that story, they didn’t know Sunday was coming. They didn’t know the stone would roll. The only knew the enormity of their loss.

In the blur of the visitation and funeral there are a few things people said that I remember vividly. One more than any other. Dear friends of ours wrapped their arms around me and said with more compassion and grace than I can muster...

“We know loss.”

And it was so simple. And it was so profound. When your heart is breaking, sometimes the most beautiful thing another human being can give you is the knowing. They were not indifferent to our pain.

And here they were years from the initial shock of it. And yet, it was still written into them. The knowing.

But in their knowing, I saw hope. They were not unscathed by their grief. They were not the same people they had been before loss. They did not pretend to be. But they knew something we didn’t yet. They knew Sunday was going to come. They used their wounds to heal.

And hasn’t that always been the way… brokenness is what heals. It’s the bridge between Saturday and Sunday.

I have not yet known heartbreak like this in my entire adult life. I am devastated. And I refuse to lie about that.

I won’t pretend this hasn’t rattled us. His death was traumatic and unexpected, and in ways we feel like we’ll never recover. I won’t pretend we haven't asked all of the hard questions. We lie awake at night, our faith deeply shaken.

I have exactly zero answers for all of the painfully difficult questions being asked. I won’t pretend that I haven’t questioned and tried to make sense of it. But it doesn’t make sense. It feels cruel and unfair. It feels painful, awful, and impossible. Because it’s still Saturday for me.

But the impossible beauty of living on this side of the Easter story is that I know eventually Sunday has to come. Even if I’m still living in Saturday. I know.

We might be shaken. We might be a bit like Thomas, begging to touch the wounds so we can believe it’s really true.

Sunday will come.
Wounds can be used to heal.
God is not indifferent to our pain.

Jesus is the bridge between the Saturday we’re in and the Sunday we believe will come.

And I don’t know if I’ve ever really been able to celebrate Easter in the way I will tomorrow.

Sunday will come.

As I was doing some reading, I learned about a Seder tradition of leaving a place set at the table for the prophet Elijah. "We have faith in his eventual return at the same time we acknowledge his absence. The empty chair at the table is both lament and expectation. His absence makes a very physical presence."

The presence of love and the presence of grief. Together. Acknowledge both. Welcome both. Leave the door open. Allow the emptiness a place at the table.

And then. Sunday. Easter. A day of celebration. Of rejoicing. To be honest, it felt odd to celebrate something so amazing as the resurrection of Jesus when I was still grieving the loss of Austin. Throughout the morning, I realized that I need to focus on where Austin is now.

In heaven! For eternity! For Austin, there is no more pain, no more tears, no more sorrow. There is only the absolutely joy of being with God! And that's because of the Easter miracle. The suffering has ended."The great promise of Easter had prevailed." Truly. Easter makes all the difference. And I can celebrate that.

He is Risen. He is Risen indeed.

Memories and Letting Go

It's been one month. One month since he's been gone. One month since every single thing in life was changed. 

Thanks to social media apps like TimeHop, it's easy to remember what happened on this day one year ago, two years ago, etc. A couple of days ago, this picture showed up in my memories... 

There was no caption, but I remembered exactly when this picture was taken. It was on our way to South Dakota. To drop Austin off at an inpatient treatment facility. I remember wanting to get a picture of Austin and Jacob playing so that Jacob would have something to look at while his dad was away. 

And then yesterday, another memory, an old blog post. Again, from one year ago. The Struggles of Addiction in the Family. You see, it was just one year ago that there seemed to be this shift of change in our lives. Although, we had no idea what was coming. 

When I shared this post on Facebook last year, I said it was a raw and rambling post. And as I re-read it, I could feel those raw emotions open inside of me again. Only this time, they were tainted. Tainted with grief, with unimaginable sorrow, with the knowledge that our story did not have a happy ending. 

Re-reading that post was painful. Painful to think about everything that happened next over the course of 12 months. Painful to think about things that were said or done out of anger. Painful to think about how much could change in just one year. Painful to think about how it all ended. Just one month ago. 

I so wish that Austin could have gotten his happy ending. I wanted that for him so much. I couldn't tell you what I thought the future looked like for the two of us, but I wanted him happy, healthy, sober and to be the best dad he could be for Jacob. 

Instead, those of us who loved Austin are left here to deal with this abrupt change; this abrupt end. There will most likely be so many unanswered questions. So much that we will never know. That is probably one of the hardest things. But at the end of that blog post from a year ago, I wrote this: 

"...let go and let God."

In fact, I even have that reminder tattooed on my wrist now. The only thing I can do is to let go of those questions and unknown answers. Let go of what I don't understand. And let God take control. Let God comfort me. Let God bring peace to me. Let God. 

And so that is what I must do. I must ask God to comfort me. To bring me peace. Because I do know that Austin is finally at peace. I know that he is in a better place. I know that he is in the presence of the Lord. 

*Untitled*

I've written a lot of blog posts. I try to be open and sharing about what's happening in my life. I try to make you feel involved. In the past couple of years, I've written about some hard things. Things that aren't fun or easy to share. Things that are difficult to talk about. But I did that because that was life. It's a constant up and down. Highs and lows. 

But this post. This post is one I never imagined having to write. 

Nearly one month ago, Austin took his own life. 

It was a Friday afternoon at work, when suddenly I was told that two deputy sheriff's were waiting up front for me. After a minute of confusion, I did think about AJ. I thought he might be in trouble. I thought maybe he was hurt. But when they told me he was dead, it was like breath left me. There was shock and confusion. Disbelief. I remember asking if his parent knew. I remember my dad (who had come to the office after my mom called him after the deputy sheriffs had stopped at the house first) going to my desk to get my things and driving me home. I remember giving my mom a hug and finally letting the tears fall. 

My mom had called a good friend who is also a pastor. She was soon at the house and I will forever be grateful for her being there with us then. I remember asking questions. Questions I always thought I knew the answers to but now was suddenly questioning. I remember asking if we could wait to tell Jacob. Wait until - I don't know - we knew for sure? It didn't feel real. I didn't want to tell Jacob. 

Telling Jacob his dad had died was probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do. We had been somewhat open with Jacob about his dad and his struggles. We had told Jacob Daddy was sick. But now I had to tell him that his dad was sicker than we thought and has died. Jacob was confused and asked some questions, but he didn't want to see me or anyone else crying. He switched to his goofy self to try and cheer everyone up. 

And bless his heart, he's been the shining light in the darkness. He demands group hugs from everyone. He'll literally wipe away my tears and tell me to be happy. He'll joke and dance and be goofy to make us laugh. He'll give great big hugs. 

There's so much more that I could tell you. But what I will tell you is that I felt overwhelmed with the love and support from family and friends and people who didn't know me but knew AJ. The outpouring of love was exactly what I needed. People sharing memories that I had long forgotten or never knew. I clung to those. 

Because here where it gets complicated. AJ wasn't my husband. We were divorced. And while we were doing pretty good at co-parenting, our relationship wasn't exactly in a healthy place. And I'm struggling with that. 

The past couple of year, there has been a lot going on. And I've had to deal with everything that was thrown at me, as it was being thrown at me. There was no time to process anything, it was on to the next thing. Like I was trying to hold a million fragile pieces together. When AJ died, it was like those million pieces came crashing down on top of me. I wasn't just grieving his death. I'm grieving all those things that had been lost. I'm grieving the man I fell in love with nearly 10 years ago. I'm grieving our divorce. I'm grieving the person that AJ was before the addiction and mental illness took over. I'm grieving a somewhat strained relationship we've had over the past 9 months. I'm grieving for the loss of his battle, one that I also tried to fight. I'm grieving for the loss of any future that was taken away from us. I'm grieving the loss of Jacob's father. I'm grieving Jacob's future as he learns to navigate this world without his dad. And I'm trying to figure out how to help Jacob grieve on top of my own grief. 

I feel like I was slightly removed from AJ's life. But the force of grieve and loss has hit me like that wasn't the case. 

I don't share these things with you so you can feel sorry for me, I'm not seeking advice, I don't want to hurt anyone with my thoughts. But I'm sharing because this is real. This is my life right now. And maybe someone else needs to know they're not alone in their struggle. 

I am mad that AJ is gone. I am mad that his demons won. I still loved AJ, will always love him. I still cared deeply about him. I wanted him to get better. I wanted him to be the man that I fell in love with, that I knew he was capable of. But I also know that he is no longer in pain. That he is at peace. And while there are so many of us left here dealing with this loss, this pain, this unimaginable thing, he is no longer struggling. 

My Phone Call with Jacob

This is just one of those stories I feel like I need to write down it was so perfect and funny! On Tuesday nights, I have choir practice which means that I get home after Jacob should already be asleep. I like to call and talk to him when I get off work to remind him of this fact. Generally I'll call one of my parents' cell phones - whoever has Jacob. Last night I decided to call the house. This is what happened. 

[Small voice]: Hello.

Me: Hey Jacob!!

Jacob: *Gasp* HI MOMMY!!!!! I'M TALKING TO YOU ON THE PHONE!! 

Yes, you are! Did you answer the phone by yourself? 

Yes!! I'm talking on the phone to you Mommy!

Where's Papa? 

He's getting the mail. 

{This is where I start to wonder... Did Jacob answer the house phone by himself? Something he's never done? Or are Papa and Jacob teasing me?} 

Papa's getting the mail? So are you in the house by yourself?

Yeah, I'm talking to you on the phone. {Then he just starts talking away...} Guess what? I had school today and we made bird feeders! And I'm going to hang them up so I can see them from the window! 

That's awesome buddy! So, where is Papa? {I can't figure out if he's telling the truth or teasing me still....}

He's getting the mail. I was by the window. Mommy, I went potty. I'm talking to you on the phone. 

Wow, that's great!

Yeah, I went potty and I heard the phone ring and I yelled "JUST A MINUTE" and then I ran to the phone like Papa does and now I'm talking to you on the phone Mommy! 

{At this point I think he must be telling me the truth and I can't stop laughing.}

I'm glad you answered kiddo! {I hear some noise in the background and then Papa is on the phone} Were you just out getting the mail? 

Papa: Yeah, Jacob didn't want to come so I told him he could stand at the window and watch. 

So, he really answered the house phone by himself? 

I guess so! 

Then Jacob proceeds to tell both Papa and I all about how he answered the phone again, just chatting away like it was no big deal! My dad made a comment like, what do you expect? He's a big boy! 

While this is certainly true, it also makes me a little sad he's growing up so quickly. Although, the whole thing was super funny and super cute. Luckily, it was just me on the other end... guess we'll find out what happens if Jacob keeps answering calls! 

I just can't get over how nonchalant Jacob was, like this was something he's done dozen of times, not entirely sure why I couldn't stop laughing at him. :) 

2018: A year of HOPE

So this story actually begins back at the beginning of November. I was in a meeting with one of my bosses and we started discussing things like vision boards, resolutions, goals, words etc. that we set for ourselves in the new year. I explained my 2017 word and that I'd felt pretty successful about the year. I admitted I hadn't really thought about what 2018 should look like yet, but I wanted to do something similar - a word to focus on. 

Just a day or two later, I was at the Women's Leadership Conference. There were vendors set up and many of them had stickers available to add to your name tag. I think it was probably the first booth I stopped at, asked me if I wanted a sticker. I randomly picked out the word hope because I liked the font. :) 

Later I stopped at another vendor, a Christian book and decor store and entered my name into a drawing. I mean, that's just what you do at these things, right? To enter, I had to put down a word of inspiration. Well, hope was still on my mind so that is what I wrote. During the afternoon session, my phone buzzed. I had won a prize and to stop by and pick it up when I could! During the next break I went to check it out. I had won a 2018 planner and the word on the front cover? HOPE. I started to get the feeling someone was trying to tell me something. :) 

The word stuck with me. I planned to do some more scripture reading to see if I could figure out why this should probably be my 2018 word, but things got busy and I didn't really ever get to that. But I didn't forget the word either. I decided to make it my 2018, even if I wasn't entirely sure why this was my word.

It wasn't until right at the end of the year, having it confirmed on January 1, why HOPE needed to my 2018 word. 

As I thought over the past year, I was happy with goals that I reached. But it was also a hard year. There were a lot of frustrations, a lot of dark times, a lot of struggles. They had to do with a variety of things... the divorce, job searches, being a single-mom and even other little unimportant things.

During those times, I was often in a bad mood. Angry, hurt, depressed. Whether or not I confided with anyone about what was going on, it usually showed through my actions. In fact, I can point to more than one occasion, when someone was trying to cheer me up, I literally said out loud I would rather be in a bad mood. It felt easier. I wanted the sympathy, I wanted to dwell in my self-pity. I wanted to be in the bad mood. But I also know that's not healthy. 

One of these occasions was when I was lamenting about hitting the deer and having to deal with all the car insurance stuff. Well my mom - ever the optimist - wasn't going to let me get away with it. She immediately told me to take out a piece of paper and start writing down the things we were all thankful for as a family. Week-long visits from Meg. That I wasn't hurt in the accident. Being employed. Having a washer and dryer. Strawberries (Jacob's). 

While it takes a shift in mindset to do this sort of thing, it always makes you feel better about your current situation. This, I realized, is what I need to be better at in 2018. 

I'm still going to have bad days, struggles, stress. I'm still going to feel overwhelmed or resentful sometimes. That will never change. But what I can change, is how I choose to look at those situations. Or how I choose to focus on gratitude instead. 

When looking at the definition of HOPE, you may think that the word OPTIMISTIC might be a better word for what I'm trying to achieve. And while that is a word I'll try to focus on as well, I think HOPE is more encompassing. 

During those dark times when nothing seems to be going right, I can be hopeful that it might be a learning experience I need. And maybe even try to see what that lesson might be right then. During times of anger or resentment, I can hope for things to change. And if I'm focusing on hope for things to change, I'm probably going to be putting in more effort to make those things change. 

This is not where I saw my life taking me. And in all honestly, I'm not at a place I want to be at. I want more (even if I don't know what that is most days...). HOPE is my reminder that there can be more, will be more. HOPE is my reminder to have a better outlook on life, on specific situations. And HOPE is my trust in God and His plans for my life.