The girl next door!

I can tell you exactly where I was when I heard the news. I remember all the details of that moment. And that feeling of unbelief, followed by pure sadness.

I'm sure most of us have experienced something similar to this in life. I recall my mom telling me about where she was when she learned that JFK was shot and killed and detailing that day as if it had just happened. The same applies to September 11, 2001. While those events are significant, it's the things close to home that seem to resonate within the soul.

April 3, 2014

My children sat at the bar. My oldest was working on his math homework. I was on the phone with my husband as he drove home from work. I looked out the sliding glass door as my neighbor came across the backyard, dressed in his church attire. He knocked on the door and asked me if I’d heard about next door. I said no. His response, “be prepared for a bomb!” I hushed my husband and told him he had to hear this. “Katie and Taylor were driving home from their grandpas house, they were hit and both of them were killed.” All I could say was “no!”

But IT was real. I wandered out into the backyard holding the phone but just silence echoed on the other end. I had a million thoughts going through my brain. How do we tell the kids? Maybe they already heard. What do we do? And then I began to reflect on their family.

In the weeks before the accident I started noticing our next door neighbors more. I had a strong impression to be a better neighbor be a little more friendly, more outgoing and be a little more involved with them. And although I had good intentions, things just never seemed to fall into place the way I had planned.
Now, that impression I had feels like a bad tattoo and my desire to do more for my neighbors has increased because even though they may not have known it, they have done so much for me.

Taylor was always so nice, he waved at everyone. He would stop whatever he was doing to wave. It was something I looked forward to everyday as I pulled into my driveway.  In the morning as I would leave to take my oldest to school he would wait at the edge of my driveway and make sure that all the kids waiting at the bus stop were safe. As the weather got warmer I would often hear the sound of a basketball against the cement as Taylor practiced his shooting and dribbling. My boys would run outside and my 4 year old would say “I’m going to play with my friend, Taylor.” Twelve year old Taylor would smile and wave to me and say “they can stay out here, I’ll watch them.” I would even find him assisting my little four year old to make baskets.

Katie was 16. She was really pretty and popular. You could tell she was the life of the party. My boys loved having her babysit them. We often called her over last minute to sit with the kids. She was fun and ALWAYS smiling. She was the first non-family member that we allowed to watch our baby girl. My daughter was just 5 months at the time and as a 15 year old, Katie reassured me as we went out the door that everything would be fine.

Over a year has passed since I listened to the calming words of Katie tell me that everything would be fine but, over the last month, those words have carried me through many sleepless nights. And just like I could always depend on Taylor to wave as we drove by, there is no doubt that he is still watching over my kids.

I hope that others can depend on me to reassure them in times of need.
I hope I can be more like the girl next door!

A grieving mother

With the recent passing of a friend’s 13 month old baby, it has made me think a lot about loss. How I deal with it and how others deal with it. I keep thinking about my own losses in life, which pale in comparison but took me down a similar path of grieving.

I too have had to deal with the grief of losing a child, only mine was through miscarriage. I reflect on my own grief as I have dealt with that over the years and absolutely CANNOT imagine what it must be like for her or other parents. However, I still have had to grieve my own losses.

I remember my first miscarriage as if it were yesterday. I remember feeling so alone and empty. Yes, empty is the most appropriate word to describe it. With this miscarriage I suffered a “blighted ovum” and that resulted in an empty womb and a d&c. My little womb was empty and a little piece of my heart was too. My most recent miscarriage is so fresh in my mind; I can still feel the pain in my heart as I type this. I remember my fear when I knew miscarriage was eminent. My body knew what it was doing this time but my heart wasn't as prepared as I thought. And my mind was just...at a loss as well.

In the weeks following both miscarriages I could hear the whispers, I could see the blank stares, I could even feel the awkward silence. Nobody knew what to say to me and most of the time people who did say stuff ended up saying the wrong stuff (unintentionally).  And if you have never suffered a loss, you may be wondering, what can we do or say?

Here is my list of how respond to a grieving mother:

• ·         Ask: It’s ok to ask her how she is doing, how she feels, or even questions about the baby (due date, how far along she was). But be prepared that the answer may not be simple and may involve tears. (Don’t take it personal).
• ·         Keep it simple: “I’m sorry” goes a long way.
• ·         Know your grieving mother: This one seems like it is the most important to me. Does she like hugs, does she like to talk...etc. Hugs are nice but I preferred them in private because I dislike crying and for whatever reason hugs squeezed the tears right out of me. And those of you, who know me, know I’m not much of a hugger or a crier. 
• ·         Listen!  Instead of telling her a story about someone else in a similar situation. In this moment SHE is the one hurting and as selfish as it sounds probably doesn't care about those people right now. Unless she asks, of course. And sometimes I just wanted to vent about how I was feeling without judgement. 
• ·         Hold the math: Don’t throw out statistics. Numbers are not comforting in any form. And if she is like me, math gives her anxiety!
• ·         Forget luck: Don’t tell her how lucky she is that it happened early. If that doesn't make sense. Let me just explain how it sounds to the mom. “You are so lucky you lost your baby before you even got to hold it.” Basically it emphasizes that she will never get to experience X, Y, Z with her baby.
• ·        Patience: If your plan is to announce you are expecting …WAIT!!! Your pregnancy is exciting and she would love to share your happiness but she may not be ready. Give her some time to heal. And it may even be necessary to tell her in private. But at all costs do not tell her on the same day she told you of her miscarriage!
• ·         Be aware! This is for those who are already visibly expecting. Don’t complain continuously about your pregnancy and don’t take unnecessary risks (going on rollercoasters, eating sushi) during your pregnancy in front of her. I know those things sound petty. Think of it from her perspective she is completely jealous of you. She definitely wishes she was pregnant.
• ·         Serve: You can show her how much you care by serving her. Especially if you don’t know what to do or say.  Let her borrow your baby for a minute if she needs that (refer to know your grieving mother).  She might be struggling and more than likely feels alone. Do not avoid her or isolate her.

Please, please, please keep in mind, these are based off my own experiences and some only apply to those first weeks following the loss and some may not apply at all. There will never be a fool proof guide to follow.

Using these things I learned here is what I wrote to my friend after her loss.

Dear K,
Over the past week I cannot get you and your family out of my mind. I have been checking on you through your Facebook posts and I have found myself unsure what to say to you.
As I sat at your son’s funeral several things resonated with me. These thoughts brought me back to your resent post of your half marathon. Running a half marathon is not an easy task; it takes determination, dedication, endurance, and even a little faith. Just as you prepared your body to run, Heavenly Father helped prepare you for this. Much like that 13.1 miles it will not be a sprint, this too will take time. During some of those miles you may have felt as if you were being carried and you may find some of your days will feel the same. I pray that you will feel of the love many of us have for you and your family and we can continue to carry you forward during this difficult time and help you reach that goal of the ultimate finish line, where your little man is waiting. 

My intentions of sending this message were pure. And if your intentions are pure, she will know, regardless of following my advice. Sending that message was not only my attempt to help her to heal it was actually cathartic for me as well. 

Let's face it, we as mothers are part of a special club and when one of us is grieving, we are all grieving and need to take the time to heal.