Another Christmas 2015

Just before Christmas while driving through my neighborhood heading home after work, I began thinking about Madison.  I think about her a lot when I drive.  My mind often goes to her but especially when I'm driving.  As I turned a corner admiring the Christmas lights an overwhelming feeling came upon me.  Another Christmas without her.  I know this fact, and knew it was the holidays, but even after six years it’s still so hard.  From everything I've read about other parents who have lost a child it will always be hard no matter how many years pass.  I never expected it would be easy.  Sometimes though I'm caught off guard or surprised by the force and timing of these strong emotions that hit me. Dallas not being able to come home for Christmas this year is very likely contributing to this feeling.

This Christmas 2015 was our seventh one without Madison.  I know she's in my heart, blah, blah, blah! I just don't want to hear that crap!  Not that anyone has said that to me lately.  I'm selfish I want her here with me.  I want to hold her and talk to her. I know I'm not the only one who feels this way.  

This is one of those "why" moments.  What is supposed to come out of all the suffering?  Yes my head knows some of the answers but my heart says "shut up!". Faith and hope.  My heart aches, so does my head.  I've come to think of grief like an ocean. Sometimes the highs and lows flow through me likes waves other times I feel calm as still waters.  Though that could be when I'm just drained and numb.  

I don't know anything anymore.  The instability of that statement is what keeps me on edge, yet sometimes calms me.  I knew that I didn't have all the answers before we lost Madison, but I thought I at least had a few.  How arrogant I was?

I Forgot

I wrote this about a year ago but for some reason didn’t post it to the blog.  I just found in on my tablet and decided to share it.

For just a few seconds in October (2014) I forgot she was gone.  I had a thought that Madison was still with us.  It was a silly thought really, about labeling things with our first initials.  I thought, “well that won’t work because we have two “D” names, Derric and Dallas and two “M” names, Mark and Madison.”  Then it hit me like a punch.  After five years I could not believe I had that moment.  All I could do then was cry.  It was so fast and unexpected it took me by surprise.  I was devastated all over again.  Unfortunately I had to be at work in a matter of minutes so I wiped my tears blew my nose and tried to pull myself together.  I guess I have become pretty good at compartmentalizing.

That experience was so sad.  For a little while it felt like I was back to square one.  The scary thing is how easy it would be to go there, square one.  Then again I don’t know if I could stay in my pajamas all day and wallow and cry.  I did that for a while.  I don’t want to be that person.  I know Madison wouldn’t want me to be that person; and the rest of my family wouldn’t want that either.

So for a few blissful yet heartbreaking moments I forgot that the worst day of my life happened.  I thought Madison was still with us.  I was thinking of her in a way that I had not done in years.  I usually am thinking about one or all of my children,  I love them all so much.

A Gift

What is a gift?  According to Merriam-Webster dictionary it is something given from one person to another without compensation or it is a notable capacity, natural talent or endowment.  Well, I call this blog Madison’s Gift because that is what she is.  I think that is what every child is, a gift.  I have learned more about life and myself and other people through my children than through any other form of education.  I have learned mostly about love and patience, kindness and the lack of it.  

Madison taught me and our family so much in her short time with us.  It is six years today that she left us.  She is greatly missed and greatly loved.  And for some reason I keep whistling the song “Cheek to Cheek” or as I usually call it “I’m in Heaven.”

Waiting

I was recently reminded of when my mother had the stroke that eventually took her life.  The anniversary of her death, July 30th to be exact, thirteen years ago has just passed.  I was watching the movie “The Descendants.”  In this movie the family sits in the hospital room keeping the mom/wife company while waiting for her to die and saying their goodbyes.  This is a sad part of the movie but the plot is more complicated.

The act of waiting for a loved one to die is a miserable yet honorable privilege.  When my own mother was in the hospital dying we did the same thing.  Members of our family, mostly myself and sisters and her grandchildren one or more of us were always there with her.  We didn’t want her to be alone.  And it has taken me thirteen years to realize what a privilege it was to not only help take care of her in her last few years but especially to be with her those last days.  I was alway glad she was my mother even when we didn’t get along in my teenage years.  I knew she was a good mom and a nicer mom than most others I knew.

She took such good care of us growing up and loved her daughters intensely.  What a gift that was, to be able to take care of her.  To this day when I am sick or under the weather I remember all the little extra things she used to do when we were younger and sick.  I have tried over the years to take as good a care of my own children whenever they have been sick.

Madison told me on a few occasions when she was sick that she was sorry to be a burden.  She was never a burden.  When you love someone taking care of them is just what you do.  She could see that at times I was exhausted but she was never a burden.  I love taking cake of my kids and even though Derric and Dallas are adults when they need me I’m there for them. Now that Madison is gone I feel like I am taking care of her memory.  I’m making sure that she isn’t forgotten and that those who didn’t know her personally can maybe get to know her through me.  It may seem that I wear rose colored glasses where Madison is concerned but I really don’t.  She had her moody cranky side too.  If you were sick as often as she was you would be too.  

After we lost Madison I felt as if I were waiting to die.  I would sit on my sofa and stare at the television, not watching but staring.  Part of me wanted to die too.  I felt useless, like a failure as a mother.  What good could I possibly be to my other children?  I didn’t see the signs that led to Madison’s death, I told myself that I didn’t deserve to be here.  I felt like I was sleepwalking through my life.  The fact that my other kids did indeed still need me I believe is what woke me up.   I am awake and we are moving forward, making plans and yes occasionally having a little fun.  I am no longer waiting to die but trying to live!

Before and After

There will always be certain events in our lives that mark a change or turning point.  Sometimes it is a global or national event that affects many people at once.  I have heard it said that when President Kennedy was shot it changed our nation as a whole, with people becoming less trusting among other things.  I have heard it referred to as the day our nation lost its innocence.  Hurricane Katrina affected a whole region of people whose lives will never be the same.  Sometimes it's a happy event like a marriage or birth.  It is the events that touch our lives personally that affect us the most.  We often identify that period as before and after.  We might say before Katrina hit this is how things  worked, but now..."  For myself I used to sleep like a rock before I had children, but after I sleep light as a feather.  Once you get "mommy ears" that's it.

Someone recently commented that my husband is, "different than he used to be."  Granted he has not had much contact with this person in over six years though he tried to stay in touch and had reached out to this person many times.  You know how it is though, we get used to seeing someone almost every day and it’s convenient, then suddenly they are no longer there.  People get busy and caught up in their own lives with work and family and friends who are still logistically close.  

Our family has gone through one of those mentioned life changing events, actually more than one we also moved over five hundred miles away from family and friends.  Other people forget, well that’s not a fair statement.  Our life changing event is not in the forefront of anyone else's mind but ours and that's the way it is.  It didn't happen to them their lives didn't change the way ours did and life goes on.  When you lose a loved one your family, friends, coworkers and so on all pause for a moment out of respect.  Those closest to you pause a little longer because they also feel the loss.  But eventually life does move on for those of us still walking the planet.  It just goes on a little differently for we who are grieving, especially when the grief is for a child.

To put it mildly grief hurts!  It hurts emotionally and spiritually and even physically.  It changes you, it changed me and Mark and my family.  We may look the same on the outside but we don't think or feel the same on the inside.  I know we don't act the same either and I won't apologize for any of it.  Of course things changed someone we love is no longer with us.  She wasn’t just someone we love; she was a friend, a best friend, a sister, a daughter, a granddaughter, queen of the one liners, a confidante, a beautiful creative funny part of our family.  We miss her and always will.

As hard as it is we do go on, but our path is altered.  There is no going back to the way we used to be even if we wanted to.  We move forward for the sake of each other and ourselves and to honor Madison.  We know that she would not want us to wallow in sadness and tears.  We know that she would want us to be happy and we are working on that.  In the beginning I didn’t think joy would ever be a part of my life again but little by little I learned to find it; in the beauty of a cardinal or the cuteness of a puppy or a smile on my other children’s faces.  I find joy when I hear Derric and Dallas laughing, now that is a sound Mark and I absolutely love to hear.

My sister Jennifer told me once not long after losing Madison that if I am feeling overwhelmed in depression to just go outside.  She told me to go outside and sit in nature and see what a beautiful world God has made.  She was right, and she should know she has lost two children in her life.  I took her advice and I think it is one of the reasons I like East Tennessee as much as I do.  I spent a fair amount of time our first year here sitting outside on our porch, more time than I usually do, enjoying the four seasons.  I would spend that time contemplating the beauty around me, the trees, birds, snow, fireflies, and an occasional glimpse of the mountains.

So has my husband changed?  The simple answer is yes; anyone who knows him, really knows him can’t help but have noticed the transformation over the last few years.  We have all changed.   Can you say that you’re the same person you were six years ago?  It doesn’t require a life altering event to see that people change a bit as the years go by.  Though we are no longer “happy go lucky” and the smiles don’t come as easily we are finding our happiness a moment at a time.  There will always be sadness that Madison isn't with us to share our lives.  The most difficult thing to do after losing my child was to find and experience joy.  I thought I would never experience that feeling again.  I’ll go out on a limb and say that the rest of my family probably felt that way too.  Maybe one day I’ll have a grandchild named Joy, then she will be more easily found!  :-)

This photo was taken a week before we lost our Madison.

Gratitude

Gratitude

Thessalonians 5:18  Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

I thank my good Lord everyday for all my family and all those I love.  I am heartily grateful for every one of them.  I am even grateful, eventually, for the things that don’t go my way.  All of the experiences in my life, all of the people who have touched my life for good or bad have helped make me who I am.  How I handle the good and bad that come my way helps me grow.  Sometimes I may shut down for a while after a bad experience, and sometimes I have a difficult time letting things go, but sooner or later I do.  Yes this is a bit contradictory to a recent post but we learn things from all our experiences, good and bad whether we realize it or not.  Sounds like psycho babble doesn’t it?  At times I think I am just trying to convince myself!  However, I write what I am feeling, sometimes the feeling is in the moment but usually deeply rooted.

I am grateful for everything, the good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly.  I have known great love in my life and treasure it.  I know that I am truly blessed and I believe this is why I feel the loss of those I love so deeply.  I think this is true for everyone, the deeper the love the deeper the loss is felt.  And although I have lost people I love the love still exists the love stays with me; I will always love my parents and I will always love Madison.  My heart can be so full of that love that it aches.  I don’t know who I would be without knowing the love I have experienced and experience daily.  The losses in my life help me appreciate that love more and more every day. I have learned that though life is fragile real love is not.  Our love for one another and for God can be completely overwhelming, especially when you think about what some will do for those they love.  What wouldn’t a parent do for a child they love with all their heart?  What sacrifice would a husband or wife make for their spouse?  Think about the ultimate sacrifice that God made for us though we are undeserving..

I believe that gratitude and love go hand in hand.  If I am grateful I show it by how I treat others which is hopefully with love.  A simple thank you, while being appropriate and welcome feels hollow if actions and other words don’t come from love.  Trust me I do at time struggle with the, “other  words,” part.  It’s easy to lose my temper when things aren’t going the way I want or think they should.  Which explains a lot of why I was angry for so long after we lost Madison.  I thought we were taking care of her the way we were supposed to, but I forgot what I always knew.  Sometimes the answer to our prayers is, “no”, or maybe the answer was, “yes” but yes didn’t look the way I thought it would.  I am just grateful that Madison was in our lives for at least a little while.

Mother's Day 2015

It is overwhelming to me when I allow myself to think on the losses I have had throughout my life. Mothers day has just passed and it has been a difficult day for me for many years. On this day I pulled out some photo albums and reminisced with myself about what was. I was looking for a good photo of my own mother and maybe one with Madison in the same picture. Many of my Facebook friends were posting pictures of their mothers and I thought I would too, but I didn't. I was fine for a little while then came across pictures of my uncle, then my father-in-law, there were also some of my niece too and my husband's grandfather. I didn't go far enough back see photos of my dad but he came to mind as well. I know other people have lost family members and I'm not trying to diminish another's loss. I just feel like I've been losing people I love for so long, starting at the age of four. Sometimes I'll think to myself, “Why?” That is the ultimate question, not just why do people die but why do some die so young?

I've heard the saying about the silver lining my whole life. I also have heard it said that God will bring good out of bad things. But for the life of me I can't see how the death of one who is so loved or so young can bring something good. The death of my father brought misery, fear and poverty to my mother and sisters and me. Yes my mother became a stronger person but she already was strong even if she didn't feel so. The death of my daughter brought depression, doubt, misery and fierce rebellion. Yes I now speak up more than I used to but that process had already begun. What good came out of these deaths, these tragedies? Where is the silver lining in these two very dark clouds? Yes I guess I'm still a little angry.

I was brought up Catholic and one of the things I remember from Catechism class is that we are not to question God. I think the teachers got it wrong. It is my opinion that God welcomes the questions. How else will we learn? How else can we grow in life and in our love of God? I hear often that God wants a relationship with us. Well, I ask my friends questions all the time, that is how we get to know each other. I realize many of the questions I ask won't be answered in my lifetime, but I can still ask them and not have to confess that I questioned God! So I ask, why was my dad taken so young? Why did two of my nieces die so young? And why did Madison go so young? I used to pray for a miracle of healing for her, I hoped and prayed for her life to be an example of God's healing power. I just want to hold my daughter again. I want Madison to tell her siblings everything is going to be okay. I want her to tell them God does hear our prayers I want, I want, I want! I often think the miracle is that I didn't lose my faith in God after losing Madison. Now I admit my faith was shaken for some time but it never went away and now it grows.

Great loss of any kind usually brings up the question, “Why?” It's a natural response, especially when what is lost is a loved one. I lost my beloved maternal grandmother when I was four years old, at six my niece and shortly after an aunt, my father just two years later at eight. My mother's best friend whom I loved like an aunt passed away when I was about ten. Years later an uncle, then one of my brother's-in-law, then another niece, also my husband's grandparents, then my mom, then my father-in-law then another uncle, and of coarse my Madison. I honestly think the death of Madison could not have been borne by my mother; another woman who experienced great loss throughout her life. This list seems put here so coldly, but I assure you I loved and cared for each one of these people who touched my life and while all of these losses were hard some were devastating. It is very difficult to think of them and not be emotional. So as I reminisced over my photo albums I thought of all these lovely people and felt so sad. I don't usually allow myself to dwell on all of my losses because like I said its overwhelming, as I think it should be when you have loved and lost many times over.

(my mom)Granny & Madison, Baby Grandpa & Madison, (uncle) Edward, Madison & Pawpaw (Mark's dad), Aunt Beverly & Uncle EJ, my dad

Steel Magnolias

When I first saw the movie Steel Magnolias I thought it was a very good but very sad movie, and that was it.  The day Madison was diagnosed with Marfan syndrome the geneticist told us she should never have children.  My baby girl was eight months old and the doctor was limiting her life already in so many ways with the diagnosis then he laid this information on us.  I immediately had visions of the movie in my head.  I would one day have to tell my daughter she should never have children.  I know he wasn't telling us this to be mean but for us to have realistic expectations.  Not only would there be a fifty percent chance of passing Marfans on to her own children but the pressure a pregnancy would put on her body, especially her heart could be fatal to her and the child.  Now there are many women with Marfans that have had children and are doing just fine.  But even at a mere eight months old doctors suspected Madison had a more severe case of Marfans, and they were right.

When Madison was in her early teens we had that talk.  She talked about having five children from a very young age.  One day she asked if I thought she would be able to have five children.  That is where the discussion began.  We talked about her heart and how being pregnant puts a lot of pressure on a woman's heart and lungs and body in general.  We talked about how adoption could be the answer for her wanting so many children.  We even joked about how she wouldn't have to go through labor pains.  Then one day I was scrolling through the television channels and paused for a few minutes on the movie Steel Magnolias.  Madison had walked into the room behind me and was there for a little while before I noticed.  I went to change the channel but she asked me to leave it on.  After we watched the movie together for a while she said, “That's just like me, the doctor said I shouldn't have children.”  After thinking about it she said, “That's okay, I'll just adopt.”  She was so matter of fact about it and her mind was made up.  We did watch the movie until the end and I think that sealed her decision.

Every once in a while she would talk about how her future husband better like large families.  She wanted to adopt five children and it didn't matter what their race would be.  As a matter of fact she hoped to adopt children of all different races.  Madison could never understand the hate some people felt toward others because of their skin color.  She loved having friends of different races.  It's not that she didn't mind the differences it's that she loved them.  We went to a Catholic church just outside of the French Quarter one time, Our Lady of Guadalupe, and the church was filled with people of many different races.  She leaned over to me and said, “This is how church is supposed to feel and be.” 

The Half Matters

I hear many conversations everyday. I can't help it I work with school age children, and they don't filter anything they say. Sometimes it's very amusing, sometimes annoying, often they actively involve me in their conversations. I try to remember when I was their age, did I talk about the same topics? I'm pretty sure I did.  The other day a little girl, a first grader, told her friend, "I'm six and a half years old." An older girl, (ten years old) chimed in saying, "The half doesn't count, it doesn't matter." This particular older girl, a fifth grader, is very critical of people and I've noticed especially of someone who is supposed to be her best friend.  Today, after making that statement, she took it upon herself to reprimand some younger girls for making fun of another person. Then, just a few minutes later she called her best friend a name for disagreeing with her on another topic. One of those younger girls, a second grader, called out her hypocrisy but not in those words. I thought to myself about the second grader, good girl. So the 7 year old and the 10 year old started having a small argument. The discussion started getting a little intense so I interceded by changing the subject with a question about school.  I wish now, after thinking about it, that I had asked a different question.

I wish I had asked the ten year old, "Why doesn't the half matter?" You see I think it matters tremendously and obviously so did the six and a half year old or she wouldn't have said it. Very young kids often get things right but we dismiss them simply because they are very young. I remember the first time I met my step daughter Noelle, she told me she was, "four and a half." That half was so important to her. As my other kids were growing up if I left the half off of their age when saying it they would quickly and proudly add that half.  It is a measure of their time, God, yes I'm talking to God, I wish I knew another concept that didn't inconveniently fluctuate so randomly as time seems to.  It is hard to unlearn a concept that's been drilled into your head since you could understand the spoken word. I would love to find and learn a new way to measure our passage in this life. I wonder though if my brain could comprehend such a thing. 

That half has been very important to me since losing Madison. I had her with me for sixteen and a half years.  I'll never give up that half. That half came after her near death just seven months earlier.  That half means the world to me, my kids mean the world to me.  Every moment I spend with them is important to me whether we are getting along and having fun, or arguing with each other. My children are worth my love, my time, my tears and my fight. I'll never stop loving my children, and I'll always have time for them.  I will always pray for them and fight for them and when I am so inclined shed tears for them.  What matters to one person may not to another, so we shouldn't diminish what another person feels is important just because we don't feel the same. Being around children I am reminded everyday of the person I am and the person I want to be.  Life is a constant learning experience, and children have a way of making you really look at yourself.  I'll hang on to my half, thank you very much, and I'm sure most kids and some adults will too.

 No halves today though. Today is Madison's birthday.  She would have been twenty two years old.  She is missed everyday!

Throwing Stones

"Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her." John: 8

This blog is a memory, a diary, a confessional and therapy for me. I open my heart to share the memories I hold of life before and after my greatest loss.  Some of these memories are very dear and some are quite painful, but I feel the need to express them.  This particular post begins with a smooth black stone.  Mark handed me this stone one afternoon when I was feeling especially defeated. He said, "hand this to anyone who thinks they have the right to throw it."

I don't claim to be perfect, I have made and make mistakes, daily; and I hope not to be judged too harshly for them.  Those that do judge, I ask if they would like to walk just one day in my shoes?  I know we all have our hardships and difficult life experiences but to trade for a day would maybe give me one where I don't have to live with the fact that Madison is dead; that Dallas watched helplessly as it happened and her parents fell apart; that she lost her best friend and confidante. I wouldn't have had to call Derric and tell him his sister was gone while he was over five hundred miles away.  The pain was unbearable but I did bear it, we all did in our own imperfect ways.

To be able to forget those terrible things for one day may give a moments rest, but I wouldn't trade my life or family for anything.  I have shared a life that is beautiful in its simplicity.  Yes it is a simple life, mostly, that I lead because that's how I want it and that is what helps me feel closer to my God.  I would never trade one day, even if I could because that would be an insult.  I can't forget and won't deny my life experiences; for better or worse they are what make me who I am.

Some people may see my mistakes as catastrophic or disastrous.  I may be seen as weak, a push over or stupid.  There are those who may call me unreasonable or crazy.  None of these descriptions faze me.  I know myself, and the temperament God has granted me.  I don't always have the right answer but I am usually methodical in getting to the solution. Slow and steady, that's how I try to be. I try not to speak without thinking, though it has been known to happen. I will not rashly make decisions or follow advice until I see how it will work in my life and family.  One "fix" does not fit all. 

Life is filled with trial and error. Some people are blessed to be able to learn from the mistakes of others. Some of us must learn from our own; then there are those who never seem to learn. I pray that I am in the first category, but am probably a combination of the three; it's my opinion that our human nature makes most of us that way. I think we all have some aspects of our lives however that seem to repeat as on a loop.  If we're lucky those moments are few.

My flaws make me grateful for the people who remain.  I know heavy emotions can affect what we do and say at any given moment. When feeling defeated and like I have failed, that smooth black stone comes to mind. On days when I have a "high and mighty" moment, again I think of that stone and am quick to get over myself.  I try to remember that everyone has something they find difficult to handle. I know I've said some harsh and unkind things while feeling stressed. I could never throw that stone and don't know anyone who could.

I live every day with the decisions I've made in my life, good and bad. It took me a long time to start forgiving myself for the mistakes. I'm not completely there yet but I've made some progress.  So if the choices I make don't seem sensible to others, that's okay. They only have to make sense for my family and me. 

Fear

Fear. I am well acquainted with fear. I've been living with it since I was a child. I used to live in fear of embarrassment, what others thought of me or being laughed at. I used to be very afraid of strangers and new situations. Change was very difficult for me. I used to be afraid of making people mad, especially those I was close to. I lived in fear of losing the people I love, not just in death but losing their love. Fear ruled me for too much of my life, and unfortunately some people exploited that fear which lead to trust issues as well. It's sad to think about all the time and life I have wasted on fear.

As an adult I knew that I was hurting myself by having so much fear but I was often paralysed by it. I read scripture about not being afraid over and over but didn't know how to “give it to God.” I couldn't let it go, I guess it became sort of like a security blanket. I would find reasons, really excuses, not to do certain things or not to try new things because of that fear; and I often didn't trust my own decisions. I think I hid in my house in the country so as not to deal with too many people or possible uncomfortable situations.

I can honestly say the night we lost Madison that fear disappeared. Granted I was slowly coming around, the year or so before I was learning to not care so much about what others thought of me; I even stopped wearing make-up not that I ever wore much. And I did agree to move ten hours from all my extended family. But that night after she passed I realized I no longer feared death because Madison would be there waiting for me. That was it, my fear of almost everything else went out the window too. I no longer care if people think I'm strange or weird. I don't care if they look down on me because of what I wear or the way I talk or what ever else people can find wrong with me.

So as we face another new year I am thinking about new beginnings without fear. Change is inevitable in every person's life, good and bad. Uncomfortable situations will occur, and we will have to make difficult choices. This is how we grow; that is why the cliché's are true, “growing pains.” I don't know what the next year will hold for me and my family but I am not afraid of what may come. I know that I have been given a gift of uncommon patience; so when change comes my way I will be okay and I believe my family will too.