Because of Brian

I haven’t felt very inspired to write since losing my brother a few month’s ago. Last night, I found this – something I wrote a couple of years ago while traveling by plane to a work event. Perspective is a good thing – every day. Strive to find it.

I think of you a lot when I am traveling by air. It’s quiet, but that’s obvious. It feels closer to what we all perceive to be “heaven” though I know that’s not the case anymore. Maybe it’s because I feel lifted away from the world below for a little while – as you must be. Lighter, flying. Maybe it’s because I can see the clouds and the beauty of them through different eyes, closer up as I travel through their mist and become a part of them as you must get to do.

Maybe it’s because the sun is more beautiful from up here – brighter. Its colors shining though the sky with blinding streams. Prisms of light coursing through the sky. Or possibly, it’s because what lies below looks so small in comparison to what our lives must really be in the larger scheme of things.

The water always captures my attention. Its movement, its ebb and flow. The currents so visible from above, moving one way and another, just as our lives do. The ships on its surface looking so small from this higher perspective, easily sitting atop and moving their way through it.

The homes below sit in their selected spots upon the land. Some in neat boxes, perfectly lined in subdivision streets while others sit alone with expansions of land all around them. These look especially peaceful and inviting – as if they have figured out a secret the rest did not.

There is the majesty of the mountains so regal, yet still so small from the view above it all. All of the twists, the turns, the heights, the flatlands create an amazing tapestry to look upon and somewhere still above it all lies a peacefulness in knowing that there is still more. For there is you.

There is you and a creator and a whole other part of creation which we are unable to see with our eyes but one you have led me to on this path to once again remember and to feel. To learn that there is being a human being and being a soul – that they are inexplicably tied and both a part of creation. So today I ride in gratefulness for the knowledge, the perspective, and for you my sweet boy.

Loss and difficulty in life comes often with what is commonly referred to as a “crisis of faith.” Put to the test often enough it becomes hard to believe that anyone is listening anymore inevitably leading one to question the faith they once held so dear. To be clear, this is not about faith per se. That in itself is a completely different topic and one each individual, if they are lucky, charts a path of their own on and finds peace along its way. No matter the “faith” you follow, the one you were taught as a child or the one you find along the road of life, if you are human, it gets tested from time to time. In the end, this is probably a good thing for its growth in the long run. Growth does not come from sitting still.

Child loss is a difficulty of a sort that removes your soul and shatters it. There is no life experience to compare to it. As you struggle to pick up the broken pieces and put them back together there are questions. Why? They were so young, what is the point? It’s a big one we ask as it is with all death we perceive as premature. So we question that and… everything. We play over the movie in our heads and ask for them back, knowing that’s completely impossible. We ask for answers, we ask for peace, we ask and we ask and then we wonder, do you hear me?

You -” you” could be whomever it is that you speak to, and again, this is not to argue religion or a corresponding faith. This is about what happened to me. That is all that I can tell you about.

In my loss of Brian, I struggled with faith. I still believed in God but I was searching for some understanding of why. What was the purpose? Why had our little family endured so much in so little time? I read and reached out to others who had walked the path before me. I struggled to find my son and opened myself up to the possibility that there was more. I had had my own unexplainable experiences begin to occur so I read more and listened to others trying to find common ground. To find other people who could say,” yes, this happened to me too. You are still sane.”

I began to learn for myself that we might actually have more support than we think we do on “the other side.” That our loved ones keep tabs, that there are Angels who can come if we ask them to and others as well. I kept getting this same message from many different sources and my brain pondered it constantly. I remember the day like it was yesterday as I was mulling it all over trying to decide in my frustrated way if this was really the case. I was generally irritated with the lot of them and to be truthful, my little feelings were hurt. I mean if you or they or whomever were hearing me, then where the hell were they? I wanted to know….do you hear me?

I was off of work that day, doing laundry. While transferring clothes from one machine to the other, I pretty plainly said,” Ok, if you are real and you hear me, show me an Angel.” I went on in my snarky way to say, something like, it better be impressive because I manage cosmetics and there is a fragrance named that. A box or an email or a sign at work, ain’t gonna cover it – and I don’t want a license plate either, that’s too easy. ( I really did said that….out loud).

About a week went by and a friend texted me at work to say that she was sorry that she missed me but left a gift upstairs at customer service. This was someone I rarely saw but she kept tabs on our family and had for years. I went to retrieve the package, brought it to my office and opened it. Not even thinking about it, I pulled from the wrapped bag a large gold angel statue. To be honest, I was work busy. I thought it was beautiful. I sent a thank you and went on with my day. It wasn’t until later that it hit me….”you got an angel.”

Admittedly, I took pause but still wasn’t feeling convinced in my heart. Looking back, I can see whomever manipulated all of that just going, “you’ve got to be kidding me?” I mean this angel is about 2 feet tall, gold and really beautiful. None the less, I wasn’t there yet and moved on. It was probably another week or so when I received a text message from Brian’s best friend. Now, this is a young man in his early 20’s, like Brian. We don’t correspond normally. He’s tall, sweet, raised in the south, loves to fish and hunt, wear camo and everything about this is counter to what you would expect in a message from him.

It was a simple photo. He’d gone to dinner. It was a Chinese restaurant and he chose to take a photo of the fortune from his fortune cookie and send it to me. The fortune read “Angels are among us, when you find them, cherish their presence everyday.” He simply accompanied it with “My fortune cookie today.” – This one shook the snarky right out of me. This was tough to ignore. I had to believe at this point that someone heard me.

Just for kicks however, I thought I’d give it another shot (maybe my snarky wasn’t completely gone after all). So, I did it again. This time, asking for a blue bird. Not all that easy honestly, right? So no kidding, two days later, a good friend of mine sends me a text message to tell me that he has a new job after years of flying for the Air Force. I say great, with who? Answer, “Jet Blue.” That is a blue bird my friends. A giant one. Coincidence? I think not. I think more likely, they were saying, ” You want a blue bird? I’ll show you a blue bird….take that.”

Not only do they hear you, they have a sense of humor.

With the loss of a child, naturally comes an incredible burden of grief. I’ve come to describe it as a backpack of bricks you are tasked to carry around forever. In the beginning, it is impossible to pick up. Try as you may, you won’t be able to move under its weight. As time passes, you will gather more strength and somehow begin to carry it around with you. Little by little you will maneuver through the days – though some will be more difficult than others. The backpack will always be yours however, there are no returns.

There are all sorts of grief in life and none of us will escape it forever. Grief encompasses all sorts of experiences with varying degrees of pain and discomfort. For now, we are talking about the grief that comes with the loss of a loved one, though the learning can overlap. We will all lose someone we love. Unfortunately, it is an inevitable fact of life. With that can come some valuable lessons in compassion for one another if you let the light in. That begins with understanding grief and what it is at its core.

Love.

Grief is nothing more than love itself. The bigger the love, the bigger the grief. Understanding that simple fact is key. If the love does not end, the grief does not end. Grief is not finite. Grief is personal. How one deals with it greatly depends upon who was lost, the love itself, and what tools the griever has in their toolbox.

Understanding that can be vital in supporting another human being or in helping yourself when faced with the inevitable road of loss, grief and depression. We all have different toolboxes full of strengths, defense mechanisms, support systems, etc. They are a cookbook of things we are born with, or learned from experiences in our lives, the good and the bad. How one “handles” a situation is most often determined by what tools are in the toolbox – grief is no exception.

It’s been my experience that society is very uncomfortable with grief, with tears, and with talking about those who have passed on, especially children. As if to mention them would be reminding us that they are gone. What I have learned is that the more space we make to allow open dialogue, to express real emotion and freedom to say how we feel, even years down the road, without fear of judgement is incredibly important to our healing.

That brings us to the subject of how to help. It’s really very simple. Know that the griever is not only sad, but probably battling some, or a lot, of depression as well, and needs a safe place to vent. I am not a medical professional and there are extreme cases, but in most situations what is really needed is the following:

-Ask, “How are you? Really?” or say, “Tell me about him/her.”

-Be quiet and listen

-Do not express shock or judgement at ANYTHING said. Do not belittle any feeling. Take a breath and wait.

-Say, “I’m sorry”, “That must be so painful”, “What can I do?”

-Do not give platitudes of any kind, start a sentence with, “at least…” or say, “still?”

-Try really hard not to compare your situation… (really don’t)

-Talk about their loved one…tell them of your favorite story. It’s music to their ears.

The griever doesn’t expect you to fix anything. Know that it took so much courage to come to you and express the feelings. Avoid shutting them down inadvertently by using one of the “don’ts”. Again, I am sure there are instances out there where more help is needed and medical care may be called for. That can be found out, and most likely will come to light with open dialogue and space to tell you so. It won’t happen if there is no trust and the griever feels too alone to talk or felt scoffed or belittled in some way. Know that their toolbox may be completely different than your own or your friend’s. How you coped, or would cope may be completely different as well. You don’t have to understand – you couldn’t really. You do not have to feel pressured to compare roads or try to drive the road for them. Simply stand with them on the road.

Grief is not a destination to be reached and conquered – I believe especially so in child loss. It is more of a test of endurance, a changing of ourselves. If we can however learn from it and help one another by offering an ear and and a perhaps a hug – not just a well meant platitude, we can take the steps forward with a little grace and perhaps more peace for the next traveler.

In starting this blog, there were lots of thoughts streaming through my head as to where to start. A lot has happened since Brian left. The questions that have swirled around about exactly what to divulge and how to do it have kept me awake many a night. I went with the belief that once I finally got it going, somehow I’d know where to go.

I talk a lot in my head to myself and to Brian and was asking over the weekend where to start after ripping off the proverbial band aid. The answer came very clearly right from Brian himself. I recognize him easily now because he is so point blank in his delivery. (I am rarely point blank) and he “speaks” over my own thoughts as if two distinct thought trains are happening at once. It’s remarkable actually. “The beginning” was the simple answer and with it a download of information and memories rushing back.

My intention in telling and writing is not a story of the anguish of child loss or of every emotion endured though some background is needed for context. So the beginning starts with an explanation of how I began to learn there was more and how things changed for me. That is where the hope lies.

“Where are you?” That was the beginning. That was my personal initial struggle as a mother. In everything we do as a parent, we strive to place our children in safety. You know when they are little and you bring them to school and leave them safely until 3:00 where you pick them up again? Middle school, you drive them where they need to go, you check on them from time to time. As they grow older, they call or text to let you know they are ok. They are safe, you KNOW this. That didn’t happen again starting February 18, 2014. That was not ok, my entire being couldn’t accept it. Death implied that I had to let go and accept that he was somewhere where I had not left him, where I had not safely placed him, seen before, or had any real concept of. Yes? NO. I uttered these words constantly to myself, silently and out loud, where are you, pleading for someone or some entity to give me an answer.

Everything I had been taught to that point told me he was in heaven, he was with God, he was in a “better place”….he was ok. People told me that, my brain tried to tell me that. That to a mother, to this mother, at that moment is and was, well frankly, crap. Unless I dropped him off and checked it out myself, saw God and said, take care of him I’ll be back later to pick him up or call me after dinner, wasn’t good enough for me. So I started looking, everywhere. It made no sense to me that someone with that much energy could be gone in a snap. We had JUST spoken the night before. We had plans. He was my son, I needed to talk to him. I needed to know. I knew he was still somewhere, our tie was was too strong but where? Where was he???

I’m not afraid anymore to say that I did everything to find him. I spoke to clergy. I prayed, I bargained, I asked, pleaded and yelled at God, I talked to my mom who had passed on a couple of years before. I screamed alone in my car until I thought I damaged vocal chords. Three weeks in, I spoke to a medium. I’ve actually spoken to a few over the years for different reasons some better than others but this one experience poignant in many ways. She told me that my life would change, that I would become a ravenous reader on the subject, and that one day I would have experiences if I was willing to. She didn’t know I had three books on my bedside table already. She told me that I was a writer (we’ll see about that) and that I could do what I wanted with the road before me. The sadness in the reading was so thick she cried with me. I don’t think she expected any of what she got.

I cannot say that the flood gates opened at that point but it wasn’t long after that things began to change. It was a process of peeks into something that I didn’t understand and still don’t completely. Its been a series of fantastic, unbelievable, life changing and hope giving events that are honestly difficult to share. I do not know why these things have happened for me or why they do not for other people. It’s not always easy and comes with it it’s challenges. I guess the old adage comes into play, be careful what you ask for. (Ok, it’s wish for but you get the gist).

So now you know how it started, a simple question asked over and over, “where are you?” To be honest, I still don’t have the answer to that question per se. What I do know now is that he and your loved ones are not in some far away place where you cannot “get” to them. They are closer than you ever imagined them to be, probably extremely frustrated that you can’t pick up what they are putting out.

Love is a force, love is energy that cannot be extinguished. Love that was alive and thriving on earth does not die. It continues on in another form. You get to keep the love….