HeartLight Gala

Last night I had the privilege of my story being honored at the annual HeartLight Gala Fundraiser.  It was a beautiful evening raising awareness and funding for a place so dear to my heart.  I was surrounded by some of my "village" and could not have asked for more.  Ok, well, to not need to be a part of anything for grief support would be nice, but these are the cards I have been dealt and I'm going to play them as best I can.  I am so grateful to the HeartLight center and what it has done for me in my journey of loss and grief.  I hope that in time many other HeartLight facilities will be available to serve as a warm place to take a broken heart all over Colorado and the nation.

If you feel lead to honor Brandon in a donation to the HeartLight Center you can do so here.

Forgive my video quality, I am far from technically gifted....that was Brandon's forte...

18 months...(re-written)

18 months. It feels so much longer. I am somewhat at a loss for words as to a reflection on this date. 

I think I've come far in my healing, I don't get taken down by a wave of grief on the 23rd of every month anymore. Some months the 23rd passes just as any other day with no special thought. When I realize this days later I'm hit with heavy guilt. How could I possibly not have noticed the date?!  How selfish of me! 

But I think feeling this way is normal. I also think loosing track of the days is normal too. I have returned to the land of the living finally.  It's been a year and a half, I don't think Brandon would want me to continue to live in constant grief anymore, counting every month he has been gone for the rest of my life.  I don't need to be sad on the 23rd of every month when the reality is that I think of him every day.  Sometimes it's joyous thoughts as I relive the good memories and I am thankful for the time I did have with him.  Other times it's terribly sad thoughts as I once again realize what happened and my heart aches that his life was so short.

It's a constant battle of conflicting emotions. The negative thoughts, the guilt and the pity hit first and hit hard. Sometimes it takes">everything in me to hit "pause" for a moment and separate myself from my feelings and look objectively at the situation and try to find peace within it.

Today as I stepped back and looked at my life from Brandon's eyes I felt contentment. The guilt of living life, not just surviving life, eased. 

I do not need to spend my life in mourning to honor my love for Brandon. No, exactly opposite. I need to let the legacy of him live through me, and through Aria. He taught me how to love, how to be compassionate, how to be welcoming to everyone. I can not let his impact on me die with him. And the only way to show it, is to live it. So, it's ok to return to life again, to feel happiness despite my loss.  How much I love him and miss him is not mutually exclusive to my misery. 

At moments this truth sinks in deep and I believe it with everything in me. Other times it's not so easy. 

But today I have found some peace in that truth. And God knew I needed that.  

A new part of grief?

Every now and then I have one of those mornings when Aria spends the night at my brother in law's and I wake to silence and my own thoughts, not to toddler cries and mommy duty. These mornings leave room for some much needed reflection.

As I enjoyed a rare long hot shower I was taken back to this time a year ago and some advise I was given to find a daily time to allow myself to break down and let it out, then put my big girl pants on and do what I gotta do. Be a widowed mother and take care of my infant. Last January my shower was my safe place, where my tears merged with the water and slipped down the drain to out of sight and out of mind.  The only way I was able to survive.

A year later I find that I want to feel the tears. They are almost a tribute to my love for Brandon. Time may heal the wound, but like the scar left behind, it will never erase the love. 

I find that I no longer need to have my daily cry or release of the grief in order to function. I no longer cringe on the 23rd of every month. This realization beings conflicting feelings. Relief in realizing the weight has been somewhat lifted. Fear that the memories of my life with Brandon is slipping further and further away. Guilt that I am returning to the land of the living and continuing on with my individual life. It's incredibly confusing.

For me, I have found that there is a lot of truth in a statement I have heard often in my support groups: Grief never goes away, we just learn to incorporate it into our lives. 

I think I have worked very hard on my grief.  After that first 3 months of paralyzingly shock I jumped head first into support groups. A small Widowed group led by a therapist, a 13 week course called GriefShare, and a continuous drop in Widowed group at a non profit for grief support called the HeartLight Center. I surrounded myself with those in the same battle. I accepted the love and support of my amazing "village" of friends and family. I returned to my therapist for weekly sessions. I journaled, read books, blogs, pamphlets, went to seminars - you name it, I likely did it. 

I came to a place where, at the moment, I am comfortable around my grief. I'm not scared when it shows it's face, I don't run away from it anymore, in fact, I tend to lean into it. I want to understand it and embrace it in my life. That's where I am at the moment. However tomorrow may be a different story completely. 

I have found this journey is like riding a roller coaster blindfolded. You have no idea where it's going and it takes a few moments to get your bearings with each turn, climb and drop and every now and then your world turns upside down again.  The long ride up to the top of the big drop gives time for the anxiety to build up. Just like the the days before a "trigger date" of an anniversary, birthday or "Angelversary". Often the anticipation is worse then the actuality of these days, just like the slow journey up the seemingly never ending incline.  Then the day comes and feelings rush, some of which is the relief in the passing of the dreaded day. 

What I've found more difficult then surviving the trigger dates is the small day-to-day little dips and turns you don't expect. 

The smell of a hair product that momentarily zaps me back to our first apartment together 9 years ago. An ad on TV that brings a flashback of binge watching Breaking Bad together while bed bound from lupus and pregnancy.  Driving past a restaurant that had the best chicken fingers that Brandon loved. 

Right now I seem to be in a place where I recognize the rush of feelings for what they are.  The shock of the unexpected memory, the rush of the good feeling associated with it, then immediately the sadness of the loss of the future we'd planned, the pain of once again realizing the reality that Brandon is gone...like not coming back...ever, the self pity for the road Aria and I now walk, the fear of what is next. 

Except at the moment I am usually able to control the direction I go from there. Instead of spiraling out of control I am coming to a place of feeling gratitude for the memory flashback, sinking into it to pull out all the lovely details and trying to burn them into my mind. We are so afraid that we will forget and that moving forward is leaving them behind. So I take these moments and allow them to be the way I carry him with me. 

Yes, they still bring tears, but I embrace that almost as a tangible way of showing my continued love for someone I lost. 

I think I am coming to a different part of my journey in grief now.  The part where I start to use what I've experienced to come alongside others in it.  The part that isn't just accepting help, but also giving it.  Recently I have humbly accepted an invitation to be a part of the HeartLight Board of Directors, and am actually kicking off the first of a Young Widowed peer support group tonight.  Please pray that God gives me the words (or for those of you who know me, the lack of words- lol) needed tonight, and that He guides this group to be what we all need it to be.

The funny part is the way God works is just so beautiful.  Usually the one I am trying to help is unknowingly also helping me.  It's a remarkable experience and I think an essential part of my healing process.

This was a long entry, and I know I haven't updated in a while, so thanks for sticking with this to the end! I have so much more I want to share about this journey because I truly believe shared grief is diminished grief.  However I feel if I struggle to express what is on my mind or my heart likely it's not God given words to share here. But this seemingly just flowed from my fingertips, so I'm going to put it out there for whatever reason He intends it for. 

And again, thank you for continuing to walk with me and pray for me no matter where I am on this roller coaster. 

...oh and here's a few pictures of Aria and I lately...

Hooray!

She isn't always smiling! lol

"Be like B"

"Be like B" is a phrase that repeats in my mind often.  It's a term coined by a friend in response to how Brandon so gracefully and faithfully clung to God's promises during the most difficult journey of his life.

When I am feeling lost and like my world is spinning out of control I think back the last months of his life.  I remember things in visual snapshots and I am so often taken back to this one:

It was August of 2014, Brandon was in the hospital yet again, and the news was not good.  I had just returned home from there to an empty and dark home, a rarity in those days since I was surrounded by so much support.  Aria was napping and I sat alone in the dark living room on an exercise ball weeping because I had just prayed the hardest prayer of my life.

It was simply worded, but so profoundly impactful.

"Lord, if you are going to heal him, please do.  But if not, please make it fast.  Not my will, but Yours be done."

The same words that days before Brandon had admitted to me that he prayed for.

When he told me that was his prayer I was so mad.  I never let him see that, but I felt like he was giving up and I was not ready to do that.  I am a fighter and WE are going to fight this, not surrender to it!

But his words and the peace he said them with stuck with me. Slowly I came to see that in reality he was not throwing up the white flag to cancer.  No, instead he was surrendering his life to God's plan, regardless of the worldly pain and outcome that may come.  That was not cowardly, it was brave.

When I realized that, I knew that I could not pray those words unless I truly was willing to release him to God and accept the peace beyond understanding that comes with surrendering.  And on that day, I did.  It was the hardest thing I had ever done, and was only possible because of Brandon's impenetrable faith and his shining example before me.

To keep Brandon's memory alive, and to continue to raise support for Aria, a loving friend had it on her heart to create and distribute "Be like B" reminderbands.  If you would like one, please visit this GoFundMe page to order.

I hope that when things get difficult, as they will, you too can remember to "Be like B" and know deep down that God's got it under control.

“Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” Luke 22:42

I hope you all have a lovely Thanksgiving!

Where have you been?

Where have you been? How are things going? Are you OK?

Honestly, I don't even know how to answer those simple questions anymore.

This journey is the hardest most confusing path I have ever walked in my life.

They say there is no right or wrong way to "do grief". 

There is no formula for how to do this. 1 therapy session a week + 1 support group + 3 self help books = healed! Nope. I wish.

Instead you fumble your way through each day, each "phase", each trigger date, each milestone of months passed and wonder, did I do that right?

We each do what we need to do to get through, but in grief we are often very critical of ourselves and it makes it even harder. But the reality is that I have no idea how to "do this", other then to survive it.

I really was doing it well for a while there. But I knew that one day that would come crashing down, I just didn't know when and I didn't know what it would look like. And then it happened. I spiraled into darkness and chaos for a while. 

Slowly I've been finding my way to steadier ground but not without some battle wounds, however I'm pretty sure that's just how life goes.

So where have I been and how are things going? 

Honestly, I've been searching for myself. Not only did I loose my spouse, but I lost myself, my identity. Two became one, so when Brandon died I felt like I lost half of me and all of my future.  He was my security and my confidence and truly my better half. And at the same time I have to also adjust to the new role of mother...actually single mother. 

I've spoken with numerous other widow/widowers and this is very common to not only miss our spouse, but miss ourselves. Yes, I miss me too. I want to find her again. I used to like her. Now it's like I am desperately searching for someone but I don't even know who I am looking for.

I have been trying to rest in the fact that God knows who I am, and I am not my grief, my insecurities or my mistakes. I am simply broken, and I am loved for exactly who I am. A child of God who is hurting and finding her way through this loss, and that is OK. I am loved and covered in grace. 

So wish me luck as I continue to "find my new normal", "put the pieces of life back together" and "keep on keepin' on", "one day at a time" - and all those other cliche (but true) sayings.


*I want to share some beautiful moments from Brandon's birthday and first Angelversary soon, so be on the lookout for another update soon (hopefully!).