Happy 30th Birthday, Evan!

Change is my most inflexible friend. It reminds me every day that it is arriving, whether I want it to or not. It can sometimes come quietly, but lately, it has decided to use its outside voice to gain traction and to stifle my sense of balance. Some of what I've experienced over the last four years is a lot of change. Not just in the present but for the future. It has shifted my ability to pivot quickly to circumstances beyond my control and has caused me to pause. Grief has changed me, and at times it feels like it's not always for my good. November 26th marks a significant milestone for me, and it will come and go without the world even knowing as our world is plagued with lockdowns and canceled plans, it has become much more challenging to navigate. It has layered upon my grief of Evan multiple secondary losses and has tried to take from me what little joy I've been able to conjure up. This time of year is tough for those suffering the loss of a loved one, and you can multiply that by the loss of social connections, business closures, and fear. What remains is a deep sadness and an overwhelming lack of hope. If you know me, I'm a glass-half-full kind of gal, but if the goal in all of this is to strip us of hope, I'm sure for many, the plan has been met, and it wins. For me, I will always be grounded on the side of hope. Hope is walking me through the death of my child; it most certainly can get me through anything this world can throw at me.

Evan would have turned 30 years old on November 26th. Many of his birthdays were spent celebrating Thanksgiving, and as Evan got older, unfortunately, Thanksgiving would be spent serving the retail industry and its patrons. Turning 30 is an incredible milestone for most young adults. As this day has come closer, and as I've walked through several major life events in the last 90 days, I struggle with every ounce of courage to grab hold of hope. It's hard, and I'm trying to see the good in all the depth of sorrow I feel. I'm trying to remember the words Evan spoke to me in the last letter he wrote to me on Mother's Day 2016...He said, "That is one of my favorite parts about you: your ability to remain calm, collected, and positive even in the face of vulnerable circumstances." As Evan's friends also reach these milestones and others like this, such as getting married, having children, purchasing homes, and fully walking out their lives, I'm left on the sidelines with memories and days long gone and forgotten. People like me like to be fully present at every milestone, especially with those we care about. I’m having the most challenging time with the created normal imposed on my life. So I continue to live in yesterday's memories trying hard to be present today and always aware of what could have been. To speak these words is difficult and can appear harsh, but I'm speaking from grief and loss and this voice isn't for everyone; it's the reality of child loss.

So as we gather around our table to celebrate a day set aside for Thankfulness, my thankfulness is connected with the memories of spending 25 years, 11 months, and two weeks with Evan here on earth and the grief that you are not here with us for this birthday and for all of the other milestones in the future.

This reality is my greatest heartache!!

Making Space

Recently I met with a friend, and one of the things that I love about our time together is she helps to complete my circle of grief. I'm not saying that because it completes my circle that my grief is linear or circular. It's just that when we talk, she makes space for my tears. When we chatted, we talked about all of the new things that seem to be happening within our group of people. She also lets me verbalize that my writing about my journey had tapered off. My words that once had jagged edges had begun the process of being smooth, and with that smoothing comes a sadness.

Raw grief is edgy. It's vocal. It gave me a voice, but now it has grown quiet. For the most part, the world around me is grateful for the quiet. Yet there are others that are on the front end of their grief. They don't have a voice of their own. I believe that I give them a voice.

So that brings me to my friend. The grief she carries is similar to mine. She sees the devastation of a future without our person. She is reminded of others within our circle who, although it's not spoken, the loss and emptiness left behind are fresh and new as each birthday is celebrated and each wedding attended. We can see the love of our person in each of the people that have been left behind, and we can see how very much we miss him. So inevitably, when we are together, tears are freely shared. The language of love, grief, and longing are the words spoken.

I'm grateful for these coffee dates, for they give us both space to feel all that is within us that doesn't have room in the large crowds around us. I believe they are an oasis for us both. Thank you for making space for me. I miss Evan every day, and I'm so thankful for the days that when I miss him, and I'm with you, I don't have to cry alone.

The Middle

Last week at my Grief Share meeting the subject was "Why?" As you might guess that is the biggest question that people who are experiencing grief ask themselves. One of the many takeaways from this section of the study was that we are in "the middle of the story". That in the middle of the story God is after the "deeper things". Another point that I really loved was that we should live in the exclamation point, not in the question mark. I know your reading this and it all might sound trite but for those of us who are living with the questions these things help us to move towards healing and help us to lean into the things we don't understand to look for the deeper things.

I'm learning to allow the longing, the missing as some want so much for me to be ok. For the most part, I am OK. I'm sad and part of that sadness is that I want to talk about Evan. I want you to know him like I did. I want to remember the good, the bad and the often crazy/zany person he was and will always be. I'm learning that my response is true and that my journey is unique to me. I don't have to run to catch the next train so to speak. I'm learning the "pause" or the "middle" as I move in grief. I'm looking for the opportunities to see Jesus and what He is doing in the "middle". I want to see the beauty in the "pause". To capture the essence of what it allows me to learn about myself and about the journey I'm on. Evan so much love has come from this tragedy I very much hope that you knew how much you were loved by so many. It's crazy! As for me, we are solid. There aren't any questions about that with us. We spoke of it often our feelings and there's great comfort in that. Doesn't make the missing easier just makes it bearable. I'm so grateful for your words that you gave so freely to not only me but a host of others. How blessed we are to have that. 

So much about this seems hollow...hollow in that I never thought this would be our family journey. I often think about why did I never see you beyond the life that you lived. I never saw you married or with children. Maybe that was just the future that was not to be in my mind. I don't know and now it doesn't really matter cause that just makes it more painful to think of the loss of that dream for you or should I say my dreams for you. Instead, I look hopefully towards the future that God has for me...as I wait in the "middle" the "pause". 

Thank you for your service. Celebrating Captain Nicole Speakman.

Just before I left for vacation I got a email from a lovely military nurse who was retiring from the Air Force. She wanted me to do the photography for her retirement ceremony. I have had the opportunity to photograph many different events but this was my first military ceremony. Nicole came to me through a friend who I go to church with and had taken photos for her son's first birthday. Thanks, Sarah for the referral. I was grateful that I had the day and time of her ceremony open....also that she would trust me with such an important life event for her and her family. When I met with Nicole we took some time to walk through the space where the ceremony would happen. The venue actually is a museum on base that also is used for this type of ceremony. I was glad to help Nicole think through some of the logistics and I put her mind at ease that it would be a wonderful and honoring ceremony. 

What I learned that day is what a distinguished military career she had and what value she brought to world of nursing. She has traveled extensively with the Air Force and has worked tirelessly as a nurse. Nicole was joined by her husband, John and son, Wesley along with her Father, Mother, her Sister and family. Many friends, extended family and co-workers came from far and wide to celebrate with her. She was overwhelmed with gratitude to all who came and celebrated with her.

Thank you, Nicole for your service and for trusting me. I wish you God Speed as you pursue nursing in the private sector. 

We Back the Blue.

Earlier in June we had the great honor to celebrate as a dear friend graduated from the police academy. His hard work and determination paid off as he walked across the stage and was presented his badge. It had been a long 6 months and one that was marked by great accomplishment but also great sadness. Christopher had been accepted into the program about the time our son, his dear friend, was in an auto accident that left him brain dead. It was a difficult time for all of us and yet in it a great thing emerged. Christoper started the program and 6 months later he is starting his job as a police officer. 

I'm grateful to be included in such a time of celebration and I look forward to the great things he will accomplish in the months and years ahead. Best Wishes, Christopher! We love you! 

You are fearfully and wonderfully made.....Paisley Grace 5/3/17

We are often not giving the opportunity to be invited into what I would call "intimate spaces". I was giving that honor when I thought I would be doing Fresh 48 shots but instead was asked to be present to photograph a birth. This has always been something I thought I would want to do and having this awesome opportunity just confirmed it. It was indescribable...To say that it was a privilege is for me an understatement. This first time momma was calm, brave, peaceful and amazing through the entire process of birthing. It was no wonder that when Paisley finally arrive at 5:10pm that she too was calm and peaceful. Daddy was fully engaged and participated in the process of encourager and coach. I'm grateful for them and wish them best wishes as they embark on the journey of parenting. It will be filled with so much joy, love, tears, laughter and a whole lotta work. Amanda you are such an awesome momma. Thank you for allowing me to be present with you and your sweet family. Blessings to the Alvarado and Smith families.