3 trimesters of loss

August 31, 2019

For the record, I should be doing homework. But this felt more important. 

It’s been 9 months and 1 day. How is that possible? I’ve put one foot in front of the other for 9 months and 1 day after the loss of my mom. I can talk about how much I miss her (because I do) or I can talk about how lost I’ve felt, how bottom of the barrel I’ve been… But those aren’t positive perspectives and they are rather selfish. But, they are a part of my story, even if they aren't sunny. I can talk about how I’ve grown. How I feel like I’ve aged. I mean, I must be at least 432 years old by now. To watch a soul; a beautiful, kind, and hurtingsoul flutter between heaven and earth like a butterfly, fundamentally changes a person. Losing a parent changes every single molecule in your body. It’s changed my view of the world. The things I tell my children. It’s changed my approach at work and with my own health. I’ve mentioned before that my children have prayed for healing for their nana for years. At the moment of my mom’s ascent into heaven, she was healed. For those of us left without her; we were faced with an unknown. In death, my family learned forgiveness. And I want to be clear- forgiveness does not take away pain, loss or hurt. It does, however, bring togetherness.  And togetherness can minimize the feelings of pain, loss and hurt. It can knit together a blanket that you never even knew you needed. 

A woman can grow a sweet, innocent life in the safety of her uterus in 9 months. What have I been up to in that time? It feels like hell and back. I’ve lost, gained, and lost 10 pounds. I’ve started and stopped medicine for severe and uncontrolled anxiety. I can immediately bring up the raw, angry, confused, and overwhelmed feelings of the month of October, November and December. I’ve dealt with insomnia. I can remember sunny days that made me cry because I hurt. I can remember rainy days that made me cry because I hurt. Beautiful Midwest sunsets? Hurt. Songs on the radio? Hurt. Bonfires and time with friends? Hurt. The frustrating days when it feels like nothing but a sheer veil separates me from a hug and a gentle kiss from my mama.... HURT! It’s such a juxtaposition to feel hurt and peace at the same time. My mom and I did not always have an easy relationship, but I know no matter what, she would have dropped everything and been there for me. The hurt comes from not having more time and not being able to say everything I wanted to say even though I knew what was coming. The hurt comes for my kids and my sisters. And my niece and nephews. My granny. And my dad….  The peace comes from knowing that the presence of the Lord is with me at all times. Peace comes from knowing that I have a good, good Father. It comes from knowing that the  same power that rose Jesus from the grave is the power that took my sweet mama from this earth. The peace comes from the family gatherings that we have had since November. It's knowing that He loves me anyway. The peace comes from that knitted blanket that I didn’t even know I needed. 

 Falling asleep at night is still so tough because I go back to that night. The heavy air. The tears. The fear. I grasp onto the Lord and pray like crazy when I cannot get my brain to walk around the block—to run from that night. It just keeps reappearing.  I can see a sliver of the light in that night. I can see the Lord welcoming my mom with open arms, but it’s fleeting. It’s still mostly heavy with the tears and the fear. Hence, the insomnia. 

18 months ago, if someone would have asked me why I sporadically and impulsively started working towards my bachelor’s degree I would have said “I don’t know.” I have an amazing job where I’m blessed to help those in need. So, why, out of nowhere did I get the idea to go back to school? I didn’t know at the time…  I can now see the opening in the road, and I can say that the good Lord ordered my path. I feel like my time is nearing to step away from the field of occupational therapy and enter the field of management/leadership. I want to pursue a master’s in organizational leadership, and I want to utilize my experience, my faith, and my education to lead. I am not a person who seeks attention in a crowd. I’m a person who works hard but wants to stay blended in. I’m feeling an urgency to break out and share what I have to offer with others. I want to set an example for my children. I want my husband (and my dad) to be proud of me (and regardless of her absence on this earth, I want my mom to be proud, too). I want to make the most of my time because I may very well only have 60 years and 40 days here. I want to be an example of God’s love and redemption.  

I have gotten 2 tattoos since my mom died. One is a “greater than” symbol. This is to remind me that Forgiveness > bitterness. Faith > fear. Love > anger. HE is greater than every fear, tear, worry, anxiety, and stress I may have. I also got the word ‘always’ written in my mom’s handwriting. This is to remind me that she is always with me. That love and kindness is always the answer. That God is always beside me, with me, in my heart, and carrying me. That He is always laying the bricks on my path. I am always saved. Always forgiven. Always loved. No matter how angry, frustrated, confused, overwhelmed, lost and lonely I may feel. 

Last summer (2018), I took a required course called “spirituality in death and dying” and the timing could only be God’s and I still value the information I learned in that course. Right now, I’m in a class called “spirituality in healthcare.” It comes at a time when I still haven’t fully acknowledged all of my emotions in regard to my mom’s death. And at a time when work is so incredibly stressful that I fully need a punch-in-the-face reminder of why I do what I do. Whatever the future may hold- right now- I’m a direct patient care provider and I need to live up to that calling. 

What is the point of this post? To update that 4 ½ people that read it. Or maybe just a way for me to release the stream of consciousness that has been building up. To say that I stand here in victory- during the storm.- 

Maybe it’s just for me to say hallelujah. Because I was blessed enough to have an angel in the shape of my mom...

My dear mama (originally posted 3/20/19)

March 20, 2019

Have you ever lived an hour in 60 seconds? What about a year? Or 34? The minute my mom died feels like all 34 years of my life crammed into 60 measly seconds. While I do not (and AM NOT) summing her 60 years and 40 days into one minute, it feels like that one minute holds so much power over me. I lost my sweet mom on November 30th at 1:20 am. And I am not the same person. I’m underwater and sometimes words and conversations sound fuzzy. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I eat. I sleep a lot. Sometimes I want to clamp my hands over my ears and lay on the floor. My soul ping pongs between utter faith in the Lord and His plan and sheer anxiety and fear over what happened.  

It seems it’s been a winter of nothing but loss. I lost my mom. My best friend just lost her mom. My husband lost a coworker. 2 of his coworkers lost uncles. A friend lost a friend at age 39. A friend lost her mom and grandpa at the same time! A friend lost a baby in utero. The world lost Luke Perry.  It seems that as our part of the country ices over and snow falls- the gates of Heaven open up and welcome an influx home. It’s a time of rest and cold awaiting renewal as there are no leaves on the trees and no green grass to speak of. 

It feels like it is over. Her sickness, her confusion, her tears and pain. Our friendship and phone calls. Our memories and relationship. Yet, it feels like it is just the beginning. The beginning of my mourning. And my new life without a mom. Not having a mom to give me advice or recommend a recipe. No mom to call to listen to how my work day went. Or to ask about my kiddos and their lives. It’s empty and it’s just the beginning.

It’s ironic that today is the first day of spring and I finally feel capable to write this. It seems, per my old patterns, that I tend to write victory stories once I’ve weathered the storm. I’m still in the storm, folks. Sometimes, at work, I lock myself in the bathroom, fight back tears, pray, and literally say “I think I can, I think I can.” Just to get through my work day…. Which is only 5 hours, so one wouldn’t think that it would be so damned hard. But, it is. I work in a nursing home, so I take care of many individuals who are closer to 100 than they are to 60 and that can feel bitter. I’ve got less motivation than I’ve ever had. I’ve even changed into workout clothes and gone into the basement only to turn right around and go back upstairs and change into sweats without ever starting the workout! It doesn’t feel good to admit this, but it’s total truth. Losing a parent sucks. Losing a parent to an 8 year battle with cancer effing sucks. But all things are renewed in the spring time, right? Crocuses and tulips are pushing through the soil with a renewed vigor and I’m desperately trying to follow suit. I’ve been taking classes online through Kettering College for a year and I took winter semester off because I felt too scattered and too tired to complete homework and research projects. However, after putting it off for 9 days- I just registered for summer semester and I feel a small—a very small glimmer of excitement. 

I believe fully in The Bible and Jesus. I trust the Lord with my whole heart, and I know that my mom is in Heaven. I dream about her frequently. Sometimes, she is confused and in a hospital bed, while other times she is alive and well and cooking dinner. Yet, she’s never said “I’m ok” when I’m dreaming about her. But, my sisters and I have all had awesome close-to-my-mom and close-to-God experiences and that should be enough for all of us! I want to list a few for my own comfort and memory.

2 ½ days before my mama died, I directly questioned God by throwing up my arms and yelling “really?!” while looking skyward. Then, I walked out to my mailbox and a complete stranger pulled up to me, smiled, and said “everything is going to be alright” I said “I needed to hear that more than you know” and he said, “I just felt like I needed to let you know that everything is going to be ok.” 

While working on a slideshow for her viewing, my computer kept closing out and the music would start playing “drink a beer” by Luke Bryan. 

A friend from Arizona text me and it simply said “I love you and I’m thinking about you” I responded with “did you know that today was my mom’s funeral?” She was shocked and said she had no idea, but the Lord had laid my name on her heart and she just had to reach out to me. (another, more local friend reached out and said, “the Lord told me to pray for you.”)

I found a dime at a pizza restaurant when my whole family was there to celebrate a birthday. (dimes from heaven- google it)

My sister had someone pay it forward by buying her order in the drive thru. It was a red Saturn Vue. My mom’s old car (and in my speech at her funeral I specifically asked for people to pay it forward by paying for the car behind you in the drive thru in Judy’s honor).

My sisters have found dimes. 

My sister found a random “J” cut out on her cricut machine (mom’s name is Judy) 

We’ve all seen more cardinals than we’ve ever seen before.

I see hawks nearly every single day.

I have faith. But, my mom didn’t want to die, and we didn’t want her to either. She was 60. She could’ve had 40 more years on earth, yet the good Lord felt she was needed more in Heaven than she was on Earth. That leaves my dad, my sisters, her mom, her sister, one of her brothers, her grandchildren and friends to weather this storm alone. I must remind myself that we are not alone, though, because we have each other. And I am very proud of how we’ve leaned on one another during this terrible time.  I’m also proud of my mom and her fight. I do find solace in the fact that she is pain free and happier than she’s ever been before.  She’s with her dad, her mother and father in law, lots of patients that she has cared for, her little brother and many, many friends. One day. Not today. But, one day, I will be at peace with that and one day I will see her again and she will be that strong, smiling woman that she once was.                                                                                                   Until then, I must live up to her standards of kindness, empathy, manicures, and really good cooking.

Judith Ann Straw lived 60 years and 40 days on this earth. She was married to my dad, Randy, for 34 years. She was the daughter of Karl and Pat Benson. She had 3 other daughters and she was incredibly proud of them: Rachael, Randi, and Leslie. She was fortunate enough to have 8 grandchildren: Caleb, Addison, Cameryn, Avery, Cohen, Braxton, Easton, and Lincoln. She was so proud of being a nurse and a “nana.” She deserves a thousand tears and she’ll be forever missed. 

“So, I'll sing Hallelujah
You were an angel in the shape of my mum
When I fell down you'd be there holding me up
Spread your wings as you go
And when God takes you back we'll say Hallelujah
You're home” –Supermarket Flowers by Ed Sheeran 

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise” -Blackbird by The Beatles 

 “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” Psalms 34:18.

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” Psalm 73:26

“I took a walk to clear my head,

This is where the walking lead
Can't believe you're really gone
Don't feel like going home

So I'm gonna sit right here
On the edge of this pier
Watch the sunset disappear
And drink a beer” – Drink A Beer by Luke Bryan 

“I can only imagine what it will be like
When I walk by Your side
I can only imagine what my eyes will see
When Your face is before me
I can only imagine                                                                                                                     Surrounded by Your glory
What will my heart feel?
Will I dance for you Jesus?
Or in awe of You be still?
Will I stand in Your presence?
Or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing Hallelujah?
Will I be able to speak at all?
I can only imagine” – I can only Imagine by Mercy Me 

 "To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever.”-- Harry Potter & The Goblet of Fire by J.K. Rowling