No Ordinary Hero

Bryant's Necklace

I chose this picture for my necklace charm because it is Bryant 100%.  I remember this day, clear as a bell.  At Disney World I asked him, "Hey are you having fun" or something to that effect and he flashed that incredible smile.  That "I LOVE LIFE" smile.  This is my most precious photo of Bryant because it was taken randomly, but it speaks volumes as to his love of life and will to live.  I miss you Bryant. <3   You are in my heart until we meet again.

xo xo Mommy

Compassionate Friends

Compassionate Friends.   Seems like a description of how we would describe our best friends.  We assume they will be 'compassionate'.  Yet, there are times when things become too painful and too hard ~ and you find yourself drowning almost.  No safe place, no one to catch you when you fall and no one to understand that most horrifying life-altering event of losing a child.    So it can be lonely and depressing; your guard it up; no one will get through it.  Sentenced now to a life of intense grief.  You get to hear all the platitudes known to man (and some people come up with on the fly) ~ none of which help at all.  You want to scream at the top of your lungs, and sometimes you do.  And then slowly, but surely, many 'friends' disappear - you've taken too long.  You should be over this.  He's in a better place.  God will make him whole.  You have other kids.  You must go on.

None of that helps, of course.  Moving forward is a choice and it's hard work.  The fact that I have three incredible "other" children (which is pointed out to me frequently) is my life lline.  I love them, they teach and they comfort, but I also know they hurt too.  They lost their brother.  I am fortunate to have a loving husband who supports me ~ but he grieves as well.  And together, our family is beginning to make a new life, a different life, probably loving each other a little more and knowing how honored we have been to have known such an incredible spirit.  He makes us better.  It's a lesson we could have done without, quite frankly though.  I'd trade places with him in a heartbeat.  It's not supposed to go this way.  But it did.

So the conscious choice is made, to 'go on' - but never forgetting.  He's in each of us, just as he took a little of us with him - a trade off if you will.

I have had the enormous and most incredible experience too.  I found Compassionate Friends.  Slowly, out of my shell, I put myself out there and joined the group on-line.  A few friend requests came in and we got to know each other, on-line.  Still guarded but more and more ready to put our hearts on the line and open up.

I attended the National Convention of the Compassionate Friends.  How it all came together is really nothing short of spectacular.  My registration got messed up but one of those on-line friend of a friend had a spare room (in a hotel booked solid).  I made that leap of faith and I went.  I met the MOST amazing women.  We laughed, we cried, we hugged and we bonded.  I found acceptance, understanding and safety. 

They say misery loves company.  Perhaps that is somewhat true.  But throughout the tears and the misery, we are together putting one foot in front of the other and finding some peace and hope.  We never tire of hearing the stories, we ask questions and listen intently.   I was also honored to be asked to attend a special ceremony, one of my new friend's daughter's tragic anniversary fell on one of the days of the convention.  Together we wept and prayed.

There is safety in numbers they say.  That is true as well.  We did our Walk to Remember, Thousands walking to Remember.  But really, we all know, we don't have to have a "walk" to remember, it's with us each and every waking hour of each and every day 24/7.   

Together, my new group of friends discuss the platitudes and the oftentimes humor in crazy things.  Without naming names I will say, I shall never forget this "Aunt ____ died?  You need a ride".   It's an inside joke, something that made us laugh and for a moment in time, we were together in our grief, yet making our progress through it.  Some sayings are more than platitudes.  Love, Live, Laugh.  Without that, what is life?  Certainly, the pain we feel is so intense BECAUSE we have embraced that, our children taught us that and they continue to teach us.

I will say that these women have helped me more than I had ever imagined.  We are part of a unique club that no one would ever want to be a part of.  Ever.  Never ever ever.  I think of Job - he lost 10 children in one whack.   And Job attracted the attention of 'comforters'.  Those are the ones who speak the platitudes.  They are described in the Bible as "false companions" and are rebuked by God himself.

I think of King David.  Loved by God, chosen by God.  King David lost an infant son.  He mourned.  He had "other children".   And then it happened, his own son, Absalom tries to revolt against his Father King David.  Through it all, David loved his son, despite the son's efforts to harm him.  In the end, Absalom is killed.  The news is delivered to the King and he says "My son Absalom, my son, my son, Absalom! O that I might have died, I myself, instead of you, Absalom my son, my son."  The account goes on to say "The king is weeping and he carries on mourning over Absalom.  The King has felt hurt over his son, and the King himself covered up his face and the King continued crying out with a loud voice: My son Absalom!  Absalom my son, my son".

The Club.  Too many are in it.  None want to be.  All feel as King David did, O that I might have died, I myself instead of you.   In fact, part of us does die.  And then we make a conscious decision to go forward, through grief, with grief.  It doesn't leave us, it's patient, it waits for us, catches us and like a gut punch, it sneaks up on us.  Yet, this Club provides the safety and the comfort; the understanding and acceptance - we all grieve differently but yet, at the end of the day, we grieve and we hurt.   We don't want that to be our common bond, but it is.  So we take the life lessons from our children who have died and share the stories ~ and somehow, day by day, we heal in tiny little increments - never fully, but enough to go forward and honor their lives.

I am amazed at my "other children" - that's how they are referred to by people who don't know what else to say (here is a tip, don't say anything.  Just a hug or a smile will do, you can't fix it, don't try).  Anyway, they are incredible.  They make me smile and give me hope.  I love them more than life itself.  I am  honored to be their mother, and for them, I will fight on.  And for Bryant, he wouldn't have it any other way :)

I wrote a poem, just off the cuff, so it's raw and rough.  But this is how I feel.  When Bryant died, I took his pillow to bed with me the first night.  I could smell his hair.  And it occurred to me, this could all be a nightmare.  If I wake in the morning and the pillow is gone ~ I will REJOICE!!!!!   Well here's the poem.

Bryant's Pillow

I sleep with your pillow

Placed beneath my head

In hopes upon awakening

I’ll find that you’re not dead.

My prayer each night is that

I’ll find it was a dream,

No pillow to be found,

No reason for my screams.

Yet each morning repeats itself,

The pillow still remains,

The nightmare still continues

With never-ending pain.

I’ve heard all of the platitudes

From those who do not know

Their words are empty and hollow

It’s not time for me to ‘let go’.

They tell me you are whole

A better place they say

Or that it was your time to go

So God took you away.

And then there are the friends

Who cannot play along,

They cannot stand to see my pain

So instead they must move on.

Others are inspired ,

Or at least that’s what they say;

I am so strong and courageous,

As I face another day.

And still we have the obvious,

And the wisdom they bestow,

“you have three other children”

As if I didn’t know.

But here’s the situation,

The real deal as we say,

There are no words to heal the pain

Nor words to take it away

My agony is living life without you,

The pain won’t go away

And your sisters and your brothers

Miss you more and more each day.

In the deepest darkest hours,

Your beauty is revealed,

And it is within those times,

Parts of me are healed.

The laughter from your brother,

The light in your sisters’ eyes,

Remind me of the love of life

You made us realize.

You lived your life with gusto,

You loved with all your heart,

Some of that sustains me,

While we must be apart.

I know someday we will again rejoice,

We know not where or when,

The pain will finally disappear

When I hold you once again.

So those of you who choose to stay,

Each time you speak his name

You help more than you know,

Yes, I’ll never be the same.

There is no word or phrase to heal

The wounds we now must bear,

That life is changed forever

And we don’t think it’s fair.

So please don’t tell me how it felt

When your father passed away

Or how you cried when Fido died

Because part of me died that day.

However, in the meantime,

The Pillow I still keep,

A part of you is with me,

as I drift off to sleep.

I will laugh and love and smile

For that is part of love,

And that is what you taught me

My spirit guide from above.

For Bryant - 2/1/89 - 3/21/09.  Love & Miss you,

Mommy