I can't remember if I remember

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I had a horrifying experience this week:

I couldn't remember.

It started with a drive to meet my sister-in-law in Canada. The drive was a familiar one that I've taken with Jer hundreds of times through the years. Suddenly and unexpectedly, but like a familiar wave of grief, I was struck with tears realizing I would never take the drive again with him. Then I started to try and remember all the different drives I had taken with Jeremy over the years on that road. I remembered very little, which bothered me, but that wasn't the problem.

I then started trying to think about what it felt like to hold Jeremy's hand in the car like I had so many times before. But instead, all I could remember for that little while was holding my brother's hand in the hospital as he slipped away from us, and the second I noticed a change in his hands and knew that he was gone. And like the wave, I was covered in tears. Tears for my brother, who I've been missing so much the last few days (well, ever since I saw my nephew last weekend and his resemblence to my brother was so eery and heartbreaking for me) and tears for the fact that I couldn't get myself to remember was it was like to hold my husband's hand.

I started to go back to all those familiar moments that I think about often. Like the night before he died - him holding my hand on the way home, telling me how much he loved to hear me sing....I tried to remember past what I normally thought about, maybe some other details I missed before and I couldn't. Then I started to doubt the memory. It feels so distant - did that really happen? Do I actually remember it or is it just because I thought about it so many millions of times that it has become a habit instead of a memory? It was truly horrifying to feel like my memories were slipping further away from me just like Jeremy was.

Luckily, it was fleeting. Sometimes, all it takes is a picture of his jaw line or crooked smile to bring all those things back. Or a random hot day where the smell of sweat suddenly made me miss his salty kisses in the middle of the afternoon on a lunch break. Or sitting with Steve, playing with his ears, and remembering how different it felt to play with Jeremy's. I remember with such detail praying every day that I never forget.

love makes a family

Love makes a family.

That was the phrase I saw on a t-shirt in Arkansas in a booth raising money for a family trying to adopt. As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to have it. I bought one for me, and one for Steve. Had there been children sizes, I probably would have gotten one for each of our 5 children. Cheesy, I know.

Since then, it has become a theme incorporated in my life, in our wedding, and in our family. In my life, blended families are outside of my knowledge or level of expertise and something I've prayed a lot about. But every time I think about this phrase, or read my t-shirt, it really breaks things down to the basics for me. Every once in awhile, I change it in my head to also say 'God makes a family.'

The truth of the matter is, I loved Steve's daughters before I loved him. I loved them way back when we were just acquaintances and our kids were just friends who hung out once in awhile. But my heart melted for them, and ached for them in their hurt. God allowed them to tug at my heart in many ways before I really understood why.

This weekend was a stressful one, and yet God once again showed me a future outside of what could have ever been my understanding before. These sweet, wonderful girls filled up my heart in so many ways. Zada had picked out a craft with some money she'd earned, which was a box of 4 stepping stones. She graciously shared them with her soon-to-be siblings and her sister and they each made a personalized stepping stone. It was her suggestion to make them for Jeremy and maybe we could take them to his memorial at the college - they all loved the idea. Heart squeeze number one. While we were making them, she thoughtfully asked "if Jeremy is a part of our family, what would he be to me?" Let me stop right there - the fact that these girls have already incorporated Jeremy into our family means more than I could possibly tell you. They understand what an important role he plays for me and my kids and I love that they ask me questions about him (Zada asked me last week if I remembered what the last thing Jeremy said to me was....and I loved being able to tell her yes, and sharing the story with her). I remembered that when we went to Jeremy's grave in Canada, she wrote him a little note on the balloons we took that said 'you were a great friend' so I told that since he was a friend to her when he died, he could stay that to her always. Heart squeeze number 2.

We took the stones to Jer's memorial. After that, they asked to walk around campus to see where Jeremy worked. We held hands and talked, laughed and raced, and watched Carter tumble his way around. Steve noted this precious time while we were all holding hands and said "I love this family." Heart squeeze number 3.
I grabbed Reagan's hand a little tighter and holding back tears, said "Yeah, we're pretty much rock stars."
Reagan smiled. "Yeah, pretty much."

It was the first time I remember taking a deep breath and feeling so proud of the family I had since Jeremy died. I always felt a sense that something was missing and that I would never be able to give my children a whole family again. But there we were, all together and complete, carrying Jeremy in our hearts as we walked around and shared stories of what he did and where he worked. It was so very precious to me.

When we walked down to Jer's shop, my ache was strong and my grief surprised me as I seemed to suddenly realized for the first time that this was place I last saw Jeremy alive. The last time I touched him, heard his voice, kissed him. The lump in my throat was huge as I showed Steve's girls where we used to sit at the picnic tables and bring Jeremy lunches in the afternoons and heard Faith and Caleb remember in such detail little pieces about their daddy and that campus. It was like two different lifetimes overlapping each other, two different loves coming together.

We continued walking together. We took the kids to McDonalds to eat and play. When we got back, we sat on the couch and played charades, laughed and tickled each other. Moments I will never take for granted. And every time I held one of those girls' hands, or played with their hair, or felt them crave my affection and attention, I thanked Jeremy for teaching me to love fiercely and to never again take my life for granted.

I'm so proud of our blended family. I know it won't always be easy. I know that there will be many challenges ahead, and I know it's not the family I ever had planned, but there's so much beauty there. So much healing and hope to be found and shared. I feel such purpose in this family God has made.

This family that love has made.

What hurts the most

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The lyrics to the Rascal Flatts song were bouncing around in my head as I sat down to type out this post....

This past weekend, I spent some time in Canada visiting with Jeremy's family. I always look forward to spending my time with them, not only because I love them so much and they don't even know how incredible they are, but also because they keep me close to Jeremy. What I didn't expect was how emotional the trip would be for me. 

I grieved a lot this trip. Steve came with me and we were able to talk about wedding stuff and they allowed me time for my heart to be happy and share good news, but I still ached and I know they did too. It's hard to move forward without feeling like I'm letting pieces of my past go. I want to take it all with me.

I took Steve to Jer's grandparents house. He hadn't been there yet, so we went over for dinner. And suddenly, the hole felt bigger and the knot in my throat grew tighter - the entire time we were there. We had a lovely visit, but I walked around the house looking at all the pictures of Jeremy, wondering why this wave of grief was following me around. Then, we sat down to dinner and ate Jer's favorite dinner EVER (grandma's lasagna) and talked about all of the things he loved to eat at their house and I heard the heartbreak in grandma's voice as she told me she couldn't keep chocolate chip cookies in the cookie jar anymore, and I suddenly knew. I felt closest to Jeremy there at his grandparents house - it was one of his favorite places to be. We spent a week there every Christmas, we traveled there many times throughout the year, I had listened to countless recalled memories from Jer about growing up there, and I knew that such a big piece of his life and his heart were there. I hadn't spent a whole lot of time there since he died, so I guess I had never taken it all in. Even through their joy for Steve and me, I felt their heartache for their oldest grandson. My heart was so heavy for them. And I felt myself lose Jeremy all over again. I lost my future of making more memories with him in that house.

What hurt the most....was being so close...

So close to Jeremy I could almost see him. Standing in the door frame, sitting on the floor wrestling with the kids, sitting at the table licking the blueberry pie plate clean. I can feel him there in his pictures, like they were just taken yesterday. I heard him laughing, felt him breathing there. 

I realized that the places I feel Jeremy closest are also the places I grieve hardest. I felt similar when I took Steve to Jeremy's grave for the first time the following day. Knowing he's there is so overwhelming for me to face sometimes. Feeling close to Jeremy means so much to me, but it lingers for days and sits in my heart.

I know that so much of my day to day looks different than it did before Jeremy died. In a new house, driving a new car - they're not places that Jeremy touched or made a mark in so they don't have that affect on me. But when I go back to those places where I feel him most, something comes over me. 

I was thankful for the sweet man by my side who held my hand while I cried out and grieved the other man that I love. His tender heart held mine as he thanked me for sharing pieces of Jeremy with him, and understood that no matter how much I love him or am thankful for his presence in my life, sometimes.....this grief thing just really hurts. 

Past Tense

Also my post from Widow's Voice:

The last two days, I have been missing Jer more than usual. I'm not sure why - perhaps all the chaos and excitement of getting engaged and keeping insanely busy, I tend to push aside my grief. But his smile has been fresh in my mind and my ache for him has been very raw. 

Yesterday, I went downstairs to workout on the treadmill (I have a wedding dress to fit into!). I was looking for something to watch on TV and saw that The Patriot was on. I thought "I haven't seen this in awhile, I'll watch the rest of it." Big mistake. All it took was one scene of two men walking, referencing one's deceased daughters. "I'm sure your girls were lovely." (or something like that) "Yes, they were." And I was a puddle of tears.

Were. What is it with those past tense words?! It's so hard to really grasp what that entails when you're talking about someone you love more than anything no longer being here. Almost 17 months later, and I still can't get used to it. Hearing the character refer to his daughters in past tense made me sob uncontrollably on my treadmill. I was thinking 'get a grip' but I couldn't. The pain of knowing someone you love will never fill up space in the world again is a sickening realization. 

Last week, I took my daughter on her first field trip. We went to learn about how maple syrup is made. Now, if you knew anything about Jeremy, you'd know he was a proud Canadian who LOVED maple syrup. His uncle and now his cousins make their own and sell it. I was excited to take Faith and somehow tangibly connect her with her daddy and something he loved. But I also remember listening to the tour guide tell us all this random information about how to recognize maple trees, and the process of making syrup, and subconsciously storing the information to impress Jeremy with later. Then that stupid word popped in my head....was. He's not here anymore. I can't see the smile on his face when I show him my interest in learning about maple syrup, even if I don't eat it. Or perhaps surprise him with some information he didn't already know (which would have been highly unlikely). Jeremy now lives in the past tense. And I can't get my brain to accept that.

I still catch myself on a regular basis, saying 'is' instead of 'was.'' I have figured out this day to day thing on my own, it makes sense to me now and I've gotten used to it, but I still can't accept that it's forever. I have so much to tell him, so much to share, so many inside jokes he'd appreciate, so many years of him knowing me like no one else has and wanting to share pieces of my heart I've stored up for him. Knowing I can't is heartbreaking every single time I remember it. 

I guess I just have to pray that when the day comes when I get to see him face to face again, I won't forget anything.

Engagement photos

It's nice to be able to put happy things on here once in awhile. Wanted to spread some cuteness and make-you-wanna-throw-up adorable engagement photos of Steve and me. 

 My sweet and amazingly talented friend, Vicki, took these for us on the fly one evening when I was down in Indiana, so that we'd have some cute pics (without mustaches!) to share

Love them. Love this man. 

I'm Engaged!!!

 

I know some of you already know, and I haven't had a SECOND of free time to blog about it, but I'M ENGAGED!!! Steve proposed to me Friday afternoon (3/16/12) and boy was I surprised! It's not easy to surprise this girl, so kutos to Steve for pulling it off. And he had everyone involved. And I've been promising to write about this AMAZING engagement story.

I was going about my random day...doo duh doo...trying to figure out a shopping trip with out-of-town friends and getting ready for my day when my best friend Sarah calls me to tell me that her car broke down out where she had a photo shoot that morning and asked if I could come pick her up. So off I went, completely clueless, to go pick her up at Stony Creek Metro Park.

When I pulled up and saw Sarah, she asked me to park and get out cause she wanted to show me something. I thought it was weird and I started getting suspicious. (at this point, I thought Steve was on his way to Michigan in a few hours, not knowing he had been there already) Then I saw a rose on Sarah's car and I knew. She gave me rose, grabbed my arm and started walking. She said "You know how much I love you, right?" "Of course I do." "Good, as long as you know." That's all we could exchange. We walked a 2 mile path - yes, crazy long! But every 200 yards or so I was met with another rose being held by some of the most important people in my life: First, my sweet friend Dalaina and her husband Byron, whose friendship grew out of Jeremy's death and our ability to connect of very deep levels about life and love. She's one of my sweetest friends, but also a woman I strive to be more like. As Sarah handed me off to them, they started walking me down the path, telling me what I meant to them. Tears were starting to come as I started to realize what was entailed in this 2 mile walk. 

Next I met Sarah's parents, who have taken me in as their own, helped me with the kids, supported me, donated their time and advice, and have loved me and my kids a ridiculous amount. 

After that came Chris and Kristan: these two have shared so much history with me, children being born together (their daughter Tori was born the same day as Carter), and so many memories. They have loved me, laughed with me, challenged me, and taught me about life. 

Next was John and Bekka - these two stepped up and took care of me and my family when Jeremy died and have become some of my best friends because of it. They were the people I called on when I needed something, and I always knew they'd be there. They are some of the most self-sacrificing people I know. 

Next on the list was Adam and his sweet wife, Kelly: Adam is Steve's best friend since childhood, but he is also my minister. No, not just my minister, but a dear friend of Jeremy's who stood up to speak at his funeral, who came to my house to comfort me, who sat with us in the hospital as we watched my brother die, and did his funeral as well....Adam has blessed my life in ways he probably doesn't even know. And he's one of my favorite people. 

After that came Steve's parents, who drove up all the way from Indiana early in the morning to come support Steve and I and to tell me that they loved me. It meant so much to see them there and to hug them and to know that I will once again marry into a great family.

Next was Jodie. Jodie who without batting an eye, took care of every detail from the second Jeremy died without letting me know about any of it. She is the woman I go to for sound advice, for creative inspiration - I'm pretty sure Jodie knows something about everything! God placed her in my life with such purpose and to have her there was very special.

After Jodie came Chris and Vicki. These two were one of the couples that Jeremy and I spent a lot of time with, and who have continued to stick by me through my hardest days. They are good friends with Steve and currently live in the same town as him, so I know they will continue to be a couple that we spend a lot of time with.

Next came my family. My mom, brother Matt, and his girlfriend Kalee (my dad had to work) - they hugged me and told me how happy they were for me and filled up my heart to know they took the time to be there for this special day. 

And finally, stood Jeremy's mom and sister April. When I saw them from a distance, my knees got weak. I couldn't believe they were there - not because they're not happy for me, but because I know what it takes to go through grief and still support me in a new relationship. Their presence meant so much to me, and to know Steve took the time to ask them to be there just made me cry uncontrollably.

All these wonderful people, who are not only important to me, but who stand beside me in my relationship and support my happiness, even if it means facing grief they haven't dealt with yet. They each spoke to me, telling me why they loved me and some even wrote letters, but their presence said more than their words ever could. I continued to sob as Sarah met up with me on the path again and walked me down the final piece of it where I met the sweetest, most precious sight: Steve all dressed up, sweating in the unexpected hot weather, nervous and so handsome waiting for me. It is a vision that is very clearly burned into my mind as one of those snapshots I will take with me for the rest of my life. 

Through all that had just happened, I don't even remember what he said to me. I don't even think I officially said yes. All I remember is him getting down on one knee. This man that loves me for all that comes with me, accepts and encourages my still very strong love for my dead husband, loves my children, loves God, and whose character makes me want to be better. This man who grabbed my heart very quickly and who has very carefully held all the broken pieces of it and continues to help me put it back together. But also a man I cherish for all he comes with, for all he's been through, and for all he has become because of it. This man whose daughters have taken over my heart.

Our engagement will be a very short one. But I'm so thankful our stories have come together in such a way that it can only be a testament to God's grace and love. I'm thankful to have found someone Jeremy would approve of (he and Steve were friends, in fact) and who has proven to be someone I can't wait to share life with. I feel very blessed to have found two such men in my lifetime.

Oh yea, I can't forget to show you this AMAZING ring I got out of it too!

(I wrote about it on Widow's Voice as well, if ya wanna check it out)

check it out

Today marks my first day as a writer on Widow's Voice...CLICK HERE and check it out!!!

I know it seems a little backwards to be excited about the opportunity of being an author on a blog whose sole purpose is to connect with other who have lost loved ones - no one wants to be in that club and I still hate that I'm in it - but in some way, it's a huge hurdle for me that I've crossed to get to a place where I'm not only willing, but anxious to let God use my story to help others. Especially in a forum that was so valuable to me during my heaviest grieving. If you know someone grieving, please refer them to Widow's Voice. It's an excellent resource.

Anyway, enough babbling, just go read it!