A Man of Prose and Poems

The clouds have been looming overhead for the last few days gray, dark and stormy. Today the sun has come shining through, and memories of this day and this time of year five years ago are always swirling around in my mind. People who have had significate trauma through the loss of a person and, for me, the loss of a child remember details that at the time seem insignificant to most. I remember the weather and the lack of photos I took leading up to this day and the following days of waiting and watching. I was still learning photography, and taking pictures every day was part of the process of learning, so for me to look back on this time and seeing very few photos seemed strange for me.

I've heard that during the days, weeks, and months leading up to his accident, Evan had reached out to several folks that he had lost touch with or just had things that had been left unspoken. I often wonder if somehow the universe was making way for him to fill the holes he thought were there. I usually live in this space of contentment and regret when I look back on these days leading up to this time. Contentment as his parent that Evan was doing the thing he had worked so hard for and that he was working as a salesforce administrator, coming into his last semester at Sac State and finding his sense of purpose. When I think in those terms, my regret and sadness seem multiplied. He was finally finding the rhythm. So the regret for me is why???

I know I'm five years in, and shouldn't I feel less regret. Unfortunately, the answer to that for me is no. With every promotion, every child born, every announcement, and the significant moments of others, I wonder and ask why? I wondered why in the earlier days of my loss, but now it's become a painful part of the healing and angst of loss. I run into people even now who remember Evan and are quick to share the impact he made with them. Maybe it's their way of finding peace, or they are just being kind, but we're talking five years later, and they still remember and want to share that with me. Their words fill the empty place in my heart that misses Evan and yet it brings a great sadness and returns me to Why?

In all of this, the building of my Faith has been strengthened, and honestly it’s a mystery. In the mystery and depth of Christ, that question goes unanswered. It is not because of anything I can do but because I can't know all the answers. I don't have all the answers, and it keeps me dependent on a God who does. It keeps me open to the possibility that even in the most painful and misunderstood parts of me, He is there to walk with me...carrying me...hold me and to show me that I'm not alone. He brings me peace in the turmoil and if there is anything I can tell you about the last five years is that I know that Jesus has carried me. He brings those people who remember and have good things to say and encourages me to see the impact that Evan had, and with that comes peace, if just for a moment. It makes me smile through my tears as I can tell you I miss Evan, and I know that Alex and John do too.

So as I move into this time of reflection of this significant loss for me, I do so consistently with a clear understanding of the significance of faith and with the questions of my loss placed entirely on the shoulders of Jesus. He carries the load with the strength that I'm unable to maintain.

What I've Learned...

These are just a few of the things I’ve learned over the last two year since Evan’s death. The 2nd year has been one of the hardest as I’ve come out of the fog of the first year to find that time and people keep moving. Leaving me far behind and at times unable or wanting to catch up. I’ve learned that grief has no timeline for those who are grieving, but it does for those who aren’t. I’ve learned that everyone grieves differently and as much as you might want to be understood there will only be a few that can walk along the path with you. It takes a lot of work, patience, and love. It’s not for everyone, and most of it is yours to own. I’ve learned about myself through group and individual counseling that grief has a way of shaking up our lives and through the help of others taking the brokenness of our past gives us hope for the future. I’ve learned the incredible void that has been left in my life now that Evan is not physically here. I see that void in others as well, but that’s not my story to tell. I’ve learned that the 2nd year is by far harder than the first and the further away I get from my real/earthly time with Evan the space between the then and now becomes quieter. What’s not quiet are my thoughts…pictures and memories are never silent. They are the things that keep you in the present, and I desire to keep you present. I'm your mom, and you’re important to me so I will ALWAYS want to keep you present and I’m giving myself permission to do so. I’ve learned that the Lord in the midst of our yearning and longing gives us Hope and comfort. That He allows that space between Heaven and Earth to come together so that we can be comforted by not only those around us but also by those who we have released to His loving care. I’ve learned that who I was before Evan’s death has changed and that I will never be her again. Grief and loss don’t define me but they’ve changed me. That who I am now is different…and who I was will not return. That person I was is missed at times, but she no longer fits in the space that I now currently occupy.

Tonight we will come together to remember and to use the spoken word to do that. You now become a part of the great cloud of witnesses who contiues to cheer us on and remind us that you are not that far away.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. Hebrews 12:1

Touch of Heaven

This morning at maybe 3:30am you entered into my dreams, and that has not happened to me since before the accident. I hung between waking and sleep just because the realness of your presence was tangible. When I finally had woken up I wanted to write all of it down. I’m weeping cause the nearness of you was so real. I could see you and sense you as if you genuinely were here. You were whole. I saw you just like you were before you left to go out with your friends. Nearly clear shaven and haircut like the first photo in this gallery. Your eyes had a smile in them. You held me in the hug that always brought comfort and understanding. You had on a black sweatshirt I remember that you wore and black jeans. I heard you downstairs in the bathroom you were looking in the mirror. You saw me and said I know you don’t think I’m here, but it’s me. You came to me, and you gave me the biggest hug, and you said I know you miss me. I couldn’t speak. I wish I could have said more to you although it didn't seem necessary. You seemed to understand. You seemed to know that I miss you. That all of us miss you. I honestly have not cried as much as I have in the last few days as I have since you died. These aren't just tears this is guttural crying from the depths of my soul. My soul cries for you. Thank you for reaching out from eternity to let me know you understand our longing for you. That you see the longing, your brother has for you. That you know how much you are missed. The ache in my heart is without quenching, but I also am so thankful that you came to me. Thank you for such a great hug. I wish so much that you were here and although I know that cannot be I'm grateful Evan that you reached out from eternity to give your mom a hug and hold me close. Grief has a strange way of showing up in the time and space that you least expect it. Today it took my breath away and I am still trying to make sense of all of the feelings that it brings.

Spring Forward, Fall is Back...

"How beautifully leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days." - John Burroughs

Sunday, September 23rd marked the beginning of Fall, and that always brings about all of the Fall feelings. The one thought at the forefront in my mind is that I miss Evan. This isn’t a rare thing as I miss Evan every day, but maybe I'm anticipating the fact that this will be another birthday without him. This time of year has always been a favorite of mine. All the colors, the cooler mornings and warm afternoons, the anticipation of celebrations and just the vibe of Fall...but alas I'm overcome with melancholy. I know it will dissipate over time only to come back sometimes stronger than when it left, but it lingers through January. The new year and winter time brings its own set of emotions and feelings with it.

I'm trying hard to be in a different state of mind as I approach this birthday. I'm battling the voices and memories inside my head that want to take me back and then yank me forward. I want to find a place that is restoring/filling me, but I also want to be mindful of remembering. When I mention Evan, he is in the present, and my desperate need for him to be in the present with me is the thing that I think is the most difficult for those who don't understand. I can't help but think that I'm celebrating yet another birthday and Evan’s not here. That I will continue to celebrate birthdays and he won’t be here. That my future does not hold Evan and yet the past is filled with him. So the question is where do I want to be? And where should I be? The answer to these ponderings can't be answered by me at this time cause the space between the want and should is too vast.

The last few weeks I've kept busy with event photography and other thing photography related. I've been working, and in all the busyness I've been able to keep the memories that are inside my head at bay. That doesn't change that you won't be here to give me a hug or debate the latest political challenges. That makes me weepy...pretty much most of my memories make me weepy. I know it makes people uncomfortable. I know they want it to be ok. I know that they have the best intentions. I know that I'm loved and cared for in the best way. I just feel on some level that I've been cheated, robbed of moments in the future. I sometimes think that I worry about what people think. I’m learning that in all of this I am ok. That what I do and what I say can be judged, but in the end, I must walk out my grief in the way that fits me. I’m grateful for people who understand this truth. I’m especially thankful to my son Alex who walks along this path with me. Although we each are walking our own way, I realize that a portion of this journey we are walking in tandem with each other. Helping each other to take the next step and at times stopping to mourn our loss together. The vacancy of our loss is real to us as a family and the pain of that is raw and at times so very painful.

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!