Brady the Doctor

I am amazed at how smart my little man is. Last night, after Halle went to sleep, he wanted to play this game of Cranium that he got in his meal at Chick-Fil-A (it was miniature and not as full-featured). I had to modify it since he can’t read quite yet, so many of the tasks had me drawing or acting out things for him to guess. He guessed correctly almost everything I did – from castle and treasure map to hot air balloon and baby. The best part, though, was when he got off the couch and told me it was his turn. He “acted” out a Buzz Lightyear space helmet after telling me, “This a really hard one to do.” He proceeded to use his hands to draw in the air or indicate the shape of things in order for me to guess what he was doing. What most impressed me was his patience. Brady has always gotten frustrated and started crying when someone doesn’t understand what he’s saying to them. Stephanie worked with him a lot in order to get him to explain what he meant or show us what he wanted, and he’s gotten much better with that, but he still has his moments. I was so happy that he understood well enough to know that it was okay for me to guess a bunch of times until I figured out what he was acting out.

Next, he wanted me to play dead so that he could be a doctor and make me feel better. (I was uneasy that he suggested this at first, but I can’t help but hope that this is healthy for him, that he understands playing dead and understands that doctors can make people feel better in most cases.) He showed me how to do it – you have to stick out your tongue from the side of your mouth a little bit – and he ran and got his doctor kit. He knew how to use every last tool, which is a credit to how much Stephanie played with him. Nonetheless, I was impressed by it all. He gave me a couple shots and told me that some people are scared of those. It was so much fun to see him go back and forth from his tools to me and to use them all in order to make me feel better. He even went back to his room one time and came back out with sunglasses on. I’m not sure why he did that, but he was certainly a stylin’ doctor. After I felt better, I got to be the doctor.

There have been many nights over the past couple weeks where I have been completely wiped out at the end of the day. I resent my actions on those nights because I am often not very compassionate towards Brady, especially if he is not falling asleep so I can get some time to myself. Last night was so refreshing, and I’m so thankful to God that I had energy left to play with Brady even though it was late. And I’m so glad for how much fun he was having and that he and I really had some good times together. He really amazes me, and it did me a lot of good to be able to appreciate that.

Thanksgiving

I realized that I never mentioned anything about how Thanksgiving went for me. A lot of that has to do with how the days have gone since then – they’ve been busy and I end my day just needing to do nothing besides maybe watch TV.

Overall, Thanksgiving went pretty well. My mom put out a candle and lit it before we prayed. I’m so thankful that she did that and thought of it. It’s a great way to remember her, and yet I hadn’t even thought about it. At that point, though, I started weeping pretty hard and just had to put my head down and let the tears fall. I certainly didn’t eat as much as I have in past years. Later that day, we played a card game, which was great because I love games and had fun with that. The day ended pretty uneventfully.

The next day was spent at home putting up the tree and a few other decorations, which also went surprisingly well for the most part. Strangely enough, the hard part for me during the day was not the Christmas decorations. It came at a moment where I was looking for the last box of ornaments that I had missed during my earlier journeys to the attic. I saw a box which contained a large Jim Shore pumpkin that Stephanie got from my parents last year for her birthday. Having a fall birthday, it was always her favorite time of year and she had so much joy putting up fall decorations. Seeing this pumpkin made me remember her excitement about such things and that she never got to put up those decorations this year. She only had one year to enjoy this pumpkin that she was so excited to get, and that had me weeping in the attic for a little bit.

The rest of the weekend was spent seeing “Tangled” with the kids and their cousins, hanging out with friends and their kids, and getting pictures taken. I’m happy to say that it really did go pretty well.

Regarding the pictures, I had a couple 8x10s printed of Stephanie in order for us to include them in our shots. Halle took notice and was all about touching the picture and smiling at Mommy. She looked at me to hear me tell her that it was Mommy. It was sweet and she was just happy to see Mommy’s face. I was unsure if she would get upset, but she didn’t. I have every intention of getting some photo books for the kids, and this just affirms that idea.

So many people showed so much love for me at such a time, and I appreciate it so much. I do hope that all of you had a great Thanksgiving spent with family and that it was a time to relax and just enjoy your loved ones. I know the holidays can be stressful with family, but I pray that Thanksgiving and the future holidays can be a time of happiness with your families and appreciation for having them.

Months

As of yesterday, I’m able to talk about the last time I spoke with Stephanie in terms of “months.” I went to a GriefShare group a couple days ago, and we all said who we lost and when they passed. For some people, it has been a year or more. It really got me thinking about which date is more significant to me: the day she had her cardiac arrest and I last talked to her, or the day she officially died. I guess I especially wonder since the date on her death certificate is not the date I think she actually passed, so it seems like it has less meaning to me. And, it’s her I really miss, so even though I had hope while we were in the hospital, it has still been two months since I got to really be with her. I’m sure I’ll probably just recognize both dates, but these are the things I think about.

As for how I’m doing, it’s hard to really describe. Getting along each day is overall okay. I have a bad moment at least once on most days. I stop what I’m doing and will either take a short walk (if I’m at work) or just take some time to cry as long as I need. I put in a full week of work this week. Again, it went okay, but I also didn’t have any big accomplishments expected of me, so there was little stress related with that. I’m making it even though there’s not a moment that goes by that doesn’t suck. I’m always keenly aware of how miserable I am, although there are times when I would say I’m doing good.

The other night I pulled out a picture of Stephanie and just stared at it for a while. It’s just so hard to believe she’s gone. I’ve never known disbelief like this before and I don’t know how to even express it. But I look at her picture, and she’s real. She’s alive in the picture and she’s as beautiful as ever, and even seemingly more beautiful than ever. And my brain can’t even process that a picture is the only way I can see her now.

She feels so tangible, I can almost reach out and touch her. And yet, I haven’t been able to hold her or touch her face or feel her lips on mine in so long. I’m not going to lie – it sucks so bad. She absolutely was my best friend and we did everything together. And, this last year when she couldn’t drive because of having seizures, we especially did everything together because she didn’t have a choice. So many things happen throughout the day where I want to call her up and tell her about it. And talking to her by just talking to myself is only helpful in certain situations, and paltry at best.

Another month gone by and before I know it, I’ll be saying “year” and then “years.” I’m just stunned – still.

Stirred Faith

Picture of clear boiling pot

In an email from a friend of mine, he referred to me having a “stirred faith.” Something about that phrase stuck out to me, and I began expounding on it realizing how descriptive of a statement that is. With the following in mind, I pray for everyone to have a stirred faith.

All the thoughts I have these days of God and what I believe were things that had largely settled to the bottom of the pot as it simmered. Finally, God brought my life to a roaring boil that scalded my soul. It seared and burned me to the core and that burn will last the rest of my life. But amidst the boiling water, all of those ingredients of my faith came bubbling to the top. They began to mix in completely with every drop of who I am to the point that I am now unable to let those things settle any more. I hate the thought that I ever segmented my life, or that my faith wasn’t pervasive in my life. But if I compare my attitude now to that of years past, I had so far yet to go, and I know I still have so much further to go. I only pray that the years will continue to draw me closer to Him.

How’s your pot?

Pictures

Photographs were a big deal to Stephanie. They were so important, in fact, that her “push present” for having Halle was family pictures, and that was all she wanted. Thanks to a friend of ours, we have some beautiful pictures from that time. I’m so glad for her always working for us to take and have lots of pictures because now I have so many memories to look back on during our life together.

I keep finding reason to revisit our collection of pictures. Usually, it’s to remember how Stephanie put the house together for things such as Christmas. Unfortunately, I find it absolutely gut-wrenching as I scan through the images of her. I always think that this will be the time that it won’t crush me, but I’m always wrong. I often end up finding something that I didn’t even remember. For instance, last night I found some images that she used for birthday/Christmas gift projects she made for me. It was great to see those things again and remember, but it also ripped out my heart as it always does, to be reminded that it’s all over.

But pictures were always important to her. When everything first happened, I had no intention of sending out Christmas cards this year because I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing just three of us in the picture. But, soon after, I realized how much I wanted to do those things we’ve always done even as painful as it would be. And, I don’t want to lack pictures from this year because of my grief; that would just cause me more grief years down the road. So, today I had that same friend I mentioned earlier come over to take pictures of me and the kids. Some of the pictures even included a framed photograph of Stephanie. Sending out Christmas cards this year is also kind of my way to praise God for His faithfulness through all of this. I would be giving in to defeat – even if in some small way – to not do something we’ve always done and something in which Stephanie always took great joy. And she always took great joy in our family and sending out that picture to show how good God has been to us. I don’t want this year to be any different.

Grief

I have visited a grief support organization near me a few times now. It’s called Cornerstone of Hope, and was started by a family who lost their 3-year-old son. It is a fabulous place, and I so appreciate the Christian basis they have for everything. Not only that, but they are experts and have all studied grief from the knowledge we have here on earth. When I first visited, they shared with me what grief is and it has made a lot of sense to me as I’ve thought about it. Grief is when our heart doesn’t yet accept the real loss our mind knows.

Since being told this, I have noticed that every time I’m struggling about things, almost immediately I am overwhelmed with the feeling of not believing that this really happened. I just can’t accept it. Obviously, my mind knows the facts. But, there’s still this feeling in my gut that “maybe they were wrong” and that she’s going to walk through the door at any moment, or that my phone will ring and it will be her on the other end. I’ve had dreams where she never died or she comes back to life. In one such dream, she actually sat up in the casket during the wake. (Those dreams don’t necessarily help me, which is not cool, but at least it lets me feel like she’s still with me, at least until I wake up.)

As much as I don’t want to stop believing that she might still be alive, I know that accepting it will play a huge part in healing me from the pain. Accepting it will mean that I have moved through my grief, which is something I desire to do. That’s why I’m going to counseling. I know it would be easy for me to avoid certain thoughts and/or emotions that might hinder me, either preventing me from being emotionally healthy or from being able to serve God fully. That is certainly not what I want. And, with the counselor, I know I will be sure to enter into all those emotions and thoughts so that I deal with them and experience my pain to the fullest.

I’m so glad for the wide range of help and support I’m getting. I have family nearby to help in more ways than imaginable. I have gobs of friends, both offline and online that are praying for me and listening to me and encouraging me. I have more than one church family helping out however they can. I have Cornerstone of Hope providing professional help. And, of course, I have God bringing me through it all, and having a plan for my life. And He’s still using me in ways I don’t often understand, but am very thankful for.

The Best Things

As hard as things can be with the kids, they of course make life an absolute joy, as well.

Brady is the sweetest little boy ever, and he has such incredible compassion and always has. He always knew how to be good for Stephanie when she wasn’t feeling well and he would cuddle her and tell her it was okay. He’s doing the same for me. I mentioned in my previous post that I suggested we watch a movie and eat popcorn, then started crying soon after. While still in the bath, he put his hand on my arm and gently rubbed up and down in order to comfort me. After getting out and while I was cleaning Halle, he gave me a great big long hug from behind and told me how much he loved me. He also constantly reminds me that he loves me and Mommy and Halle (and sometimes even the dogs). And he affirms that “Daddy’s the best and Mommy’s the best and Brady’s the best and Halle’s the best. We’re all the best.” Like I said, he’s such a sweetheart.

One morning this past week, he had grabbed a framed photo off of Stephanie’s dresser before I got out of bed. It was a picture of her and I from our honeymoon. I didn’t realize he had taken it until I came out to find that it was properly standing up on the couch where he was playing. He told me that he wanted it there because he missed Mommy. That borders on being one of the hardest things, but it’s good to me to know that he understands as much as can be expected (and then some).

And then there is Halle. She is just like her mother in so many ways. One of those ways is that when she is in a good mood, it bursts forth out of her like sunshine and you can’t help but end up in a good mood just watching her. My baby girl can make me laugh so hard just from watching her bounce around so happily. She babbles excitedly and has such personality and always knows what she wants. It’s a great deal of fun to ask her questions just to see her shake her head with conviction either yes or no.

And I know that God loves these little children so much. For all the grace I feel that He has given to me, it is exponentially greater towards them. I thank Him for that. And I thank Him for the best two things in my life: Brady and Halle.

The Worst Things

I’m finding that almost everything I know to do with my kids is because of what their mother knew about them and did with them. I know how much my kids loved those things and don’t want them to stop by any means.

One thing we would do after Halle went to bed was to pop some popcorn and put on a movie that Brady could watch and the three of us would cuddle on the couch and watch. One night last week, I told Brady during their bath that we could do that if he wanted. He was very excited and couldn’t wait. As soon as I mentioned the idea, though, I started crying quite a bit. It ached to think of the times we all did that together and how we can’t have that again.

Something else the kids love and I was sure to do last week because of good weather was to go to the zoo. Stephanie loves animals, and was so glad to get a zoo pass last Christmas for this year. (Sadly, due to the seizures, she was never allowed to drive and couldn’t go nearly as many times as she wanted.) Again, I knew the kids would love to go and thought it would be good for all of us to get out. I guess it’s good that I didn’t realize beforehand just how painful it would be to be there. Otherwise, I might have been tempted not to go at all. I almost kept expecting to see her walking next to me every time I looked over.

I’m sure these moments will continue. Stephanie always would do those things that the kids loved, even if she wasn’t up to it. It’s easy to remember what the kids enjoy. It’s not until after I start those activities that I realize how painful it is for me. What makes them “the worst things” is because I’m not going to stop just because it’s hard for me, and it’s a mixture of enjoyment I get for my kids along with the pain it is for me.

Difficulties

This past week was tough. I spent every night at home with the kids. I anticipated it being a rough week, but had no idea how that was going to present itself. Before Monday night, the kids and I had not all spent the night at home. And there was only one day before that when I stayed the night sans kids while Stephanie was still in the hospital.

Every night – particularly starting around dinner time – was nothing short of miserable. I’m not going to sugar coat it or pretend differently. It’s probably because this was the time we had every day when we were all together as a family. We’d eat dinner together and one of us would clean up while the other gave the kids a bath. It’s when I most notice the absence of her voice in the house. I guess the rest of the day is so new to me at home that it’s not as bad. The house was also very much Stephanie’s domain and she would often have a plan for the night. I was never very decisive about such things, so went along with what she had for the most part. Now, I just find myself wondering what to even do at night. Thankfully, I’ve been tired enough at the end of the night to mostly just fall asleep.

I still have all our pictures up, of course. One picture had been “in storage” and I pulled it out for the wake. That one now is propped in the kitchen near the fridge. Apparently, I’m often near that spot because I look at that picture so many times and just about want to scream every time. I’m sure I can’t unpack all the thoughts I have throughout the day, but most of it takes me back to unbelief and/or anger that this actually happened. Occasionally, I’ll punch a wall or something. (That has yet to actually hurt, by the way, which is probably evidence of how little I care about physical pain compared to the emotional.) I’ve screamed into my pillow or just zoned out for a bit while the kids play.

I’m glad I got through so many emotions while still staying at my parents’ house that I can now take on this new set of emotions on their own. I’m not sure how much that makes it easier, but I have to assume it helps a little bit. And, I know it will get easier with time, so I guess I’m mostly just waiting at this point.

I’ve wanted to keep up on the writing, but haven’t felt very motivated. But, I do feel that God still wants me to write. And even though I’m not always necessarily sure what to put down here, I plan to keep at it and pray that He will keep me on task.

Give and Take

Job is my hero. And by Job, I mean the Biblical stalwart who suffered the loss of every one of his kids to nearly every possible disaster, and then he was made to suffer miserable boils on his skin. And yet, after all of that, he didn’t turn his back to God. I love this guy. I wish I could have been friends with him – seriously. I’ve always loved the book of the Bible with his namesake and poured over it endlessly all my life. My favorite quote from the book, I would have to say is in the second half of verse 21 in chapter 1: “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.”

Here’s a guy who has literally lost everything: sons, daughters, land, money, dignity, and his own health. His nearly immediate response is to acknowledge that the Lord has every right to take away, just as much as He decides to give to us, and then he praises God’s name in that fact. I’ve always tried to relate and have such an attitude as much as that is possible, but I always had to scrounge for situations in my own life that could even fit in the same universe as what Job experienced. I wanted to be someone who would praise God even when the worst imaginable thing happened. God finally gave me the opportunity to try. And, as with everything these days, I find out just how immeasurably small my contribution to my own life actually is.

I remember vividly when the music minister from my church came to be with me in the hospital. I had just found out devastating news. Through tear-flooded eyes, I looked up at him with the only response that made sense to me: “I want to worship God. Can you lead me in that?” He faithfully obliged. I want to be clear: this was not some sort of character strength of mine or some such claim that I’m devout or a great Christian or anything like that. This was a NATURAL response. And by “natural” I mean “supernatural,” as in the Holy Spirit in me created this spiritual response that I couldn’t ignore. I had to praise. It was literally the only thing that made sense, and it still is. God gave me a wife and beautiful marriage. He allowed that to be taken away. Praise His name. I wish I could describe the feeling that wells up inside of me as I say that. There is nothing more true to me than the Lord’s praises when I think about His involvement in this and His taking my wife away.

For whatever reason, it was only yesterday that I remembered that Job said that. I have felt his words for the past month or so, but forgot that he expressed it exactly as I felt it. And then tonight, I got to worship at a church that I attended for the first time where we sang “Blessed Be the Name of the Lord.” In that song, it says, “He gives and takes away. My heart will choose to say, ‘Lord, blessed be Your name.'” I’m so glad I was there for that song, and I’m sure I’ve never sung it louder than I did tonight. It is the cry of my heart to declare His praises to the entire world. And if you’re reading this, I appreciate you giving me the opportunity to do just that.