Not What I Expected

    Being a bereaved parent is not what I expected, starting with the fact that I didn't expect to be a bereaved parent. Who does that?! I mean, no one EXPECTS to be faced with burying their child. We, as new parents, are so focused on making sure we provide a strong childhood and upbringing to our new child that we refuse to allow those darker thoughts to enter our minds. We don't even want to take up the offer we all get in the mail to sign up our new babies for Gerber's Life Insurance that pays us if our child dies. WHO DOES THAT?! Yes, it would have been smart for us to do that, wish we had.

Our Rainbow, Cheyenne

    Then when we were faced with burying our second child, we found ourselves without that baby life insurance again. Then, when we had our HEALTHY third child, we STIL DID NOT DO IT! This time we knew he was healthy, so we didn't want to risk taunting Death. The point is that as a human race, it is natural for us to be positive and hopeful in our daily lives, more so when parenting our children, so when we find ourselves living what we never expected, we are not prepared.

Our Froggie, Emily.

    It's been nearly 20 years since our oldest, Cheyenne, passed. A few less since we lost Emily. We have been living the cliche "Life goes on" journey. Our son is nearly 11 now, healthy and loved, if not a bit spoiled. Yes, we have good days... even GREAT days. I thank God for those days. They are needed to balance those days that will never go away. Those days that hit without warning, unexpectedly. There are lots of things that happen that we don't expect when our children die. How we react to them will determine how our lives unfold after our children die. Below is a list of a few of those unexpected things, and the reactive choices we are faced with. The trick for a grieving parent is to choose wisely so our lives will have opportunities for greatness again.

    I didn't expect that the grief process after loosing Emily, our second child to bury, would move faster, or be easier. At times I didn't think it did, but it did. Each day we were faced with the returning pain, and we had to choose to reject it or embrace it. By embracing it, we were in (a bit) more control. We used it to recognize the love we still have for our girls. We used it to recognize our own strength and ability to get through it as experienced bereaved parents. Then we could (still can) face each day knowing we are better for having known and loved our children. We are better and stronger than most other people.

   I didn't expect to be faced with the almost celebrity style respect and admiration we often get from others who "can't imagine" what we live with. I don't like it, it makes me very uncomfortable because I'd rather have my girls back. I know they just want to help us see how strong we are, but it's weird.

   I didn't expect to ever feel whole again, but I do... usually. I've learned that what Patrick Swayze said in "Ghost" is true... "The love stays with you". The love is them, still here, just in a different form. So I take it and run with it. I remind myself that I am a better person for having been their mom, and that means I AM WHOLE, despite the fact that my heart is not.

   I didn't expect... get ready... to hear my husband say the loss of his mom is more difficult than burying his two little girls. WHAT???!!!! Yes, it's true. HOW????? ...the pain of loss is built up of the memories and the relationship shared. They had a VERY SPECIAL and very rare mother son bond, built on 57 years of life together. It's hard to explain, harder to understand, but I think I'm getting it.

   Everyone grieves differently, based on the relationship, and how it was left at the time of the death. We can prepare all we want, or ignore all the signs telling us we need to prepare. Either way, death comes to us all. How we choose to live with it will define how our lives unfold. I miss my girls more than words can say. Anyone who has buried their child knows this gut wrenching misery. There was a time when I feared this day, the day I would say that my girls are JUST PART OF MY JOURNEY. The day that I would say my life is MORE than being their mom. I didn't expect I could ever say this. ...but I do now, and it's OK. It has not lessened the love or weakened the memories one bit. The LOVE never dies, so neither do they.

Believing when there is no proof

I am tired. Grief does that to you. Today is my little froggie's 10th birthday. She was only here on Earth for 18 months. Emily was a soul with her own plan. She finished & went home suddenly, in my arms, after a long day at work for me. To this day I hate it when people yell out in joy "It's Friday!" All I hear is myself saying that very same thing as I left work...then the rest is history, to me anyway.

This was shot just two weeks before she passed. It's not my shot, but a friend's work.

In my previous posts this month I spent the time sharing the joys of life & the mysteries of death from an easy perspective....PROOF. I had the proof that those things were happening during Cheyenne's life & after. But with Emily it was very different. Because she was so young, not having established her own verbal abilities yet, we really never got to know her or recognize her presence like we did with her older sister. When she passed we had to rely on FAITH. Believing without seeing. It was not so easy. I mean I believed, but I had a harder time seeing things in the first place. Does that make sense?

Steve Alley, our pediatrician & friend, believed in us. We met the weekend Cheyenne was in the hospital & passed. He was so moved by her spirit, wisdom, & whatever else she hit him with that he says she changed the way he approaches his work. He became our pediatrician for Emily, & now for David. If I told him things were not right, or I was not comfortable he always trusted my intuition, even if he did not have the scientific proof to back it up. As a doctor that had to be hard, but he believed in us as parents. That is one thing so great about the awesome people in his practice, Fannin Pediatrics of Houston. Yes, I'm plugging my friends business. WHY? Because I BELIEVE. But then I have proof on this one.

It's easy when the evidence is in front of you, as it was with Cheyenne, but to know she is still around me, hearing me talk to her, knowing how much I miss her when I'm not seeing any proof, well... that's where the challenge lies. When Cheyenne died I used to criticize & judge those other grieving parents for not KNOWING they are not separated from their kids spiritually, but after Emily passed I understood the challenge. They did not have the "Cheyenne" in their lives to provide the proof. Their faith that they would be together again had to come from other sources, for some those other sources did not exist. They are lost in their pain to this day & may not survive. But I pray that they do. That they find something to hold on to, to believe in.

Then there are those (forgive me) JERKS in life who have to naysay & chop down whatever tiny bit of evidence we can dig up to maintain our strength & sanity. They have to accuse us of imagining that which they think does not exist, say we are just desperately grabbing on to things, that we are lost and are not making sense. I was once called by a woman "emotionally unstable" and not equipped to be in the classroom as her child's teacher. I was the one sitting calmly as she spouted these things & she was the one screaming, cussing, & yelling. WHO is emotionally unstable? They have no idea what we are going through, will continue to go through, & how it will change us forever. They are ignorant to our pain. I disregard them & continue in my faith, believing without proof at times, writing to help others who need that strength, & hoping that one or two of those "jerks" will wizen up & find a little compassion in their hearts.

I've got some shots of Emily here to share with you. Take a look, feel her energy (she was a happy little froggie for sure!) and BELIEVE.

The bottom line: So what if you think it's not true, if it helps us heal & continue being contributing members of society why do you have to steal our lifeboat?

The Mystery of Death

The one thing I have always felt around death is the mystery of it. In our last moments, are we alone? Do we see the spirits of those loves ones who have gone before us? Do we feel the pain & the fear that moment we realize we are leaving this world, or are we surrounded by an unexplainable peace & comfort?

I am a twin so I have never been alone, nor have I ever felt alone spiritually. For as long as I can remember I have felt the presence of my guides, though what felt like many has only ever shown as one, a female angel. For as long as I can remember I have also been curious about eternity, life on the other side, or whatever it is. So curious that as I child I was never afraid to die, but ready & excited for the journey should it begin.

As I said in my last post, I am writing about the lives and journeys back home that I have witnessed and been blessed to have been a part of; specifically, my two daughters who are celebrating their birthdays this month in heaven. Cheyenne is our oldest. She turns 16 this month. When I was pregnant with her I could not believe I was having a girl. I had always believed I would have two boys. Sometime around 4 or 5 months I was still sick & having heavy nose bleeds. I know my medical care was poor, it was an HMO. I wanted to change policies but had strong reasons not to as well. I was distraught & did not think I was going to make it through that pregnancy. Sitting on the floor in my livingroom, alone, I suddenly heard a woman's voice from behind me... of course I turned & looked, it was that real! She said "Yes, Beth, it is a girl. Everything will be alright as long as you make the right decisions." That was it, I knew without a doubt that we had to change insurance policies while the window remained open.

We switched to a PPO and got better care, a better hospital, I was not getting the nose bleeds or the illness anymore. When Cheyenne was born they noticed a couple anomalies & kept her for a few more days. The night of her 5th day she suddenly went into a state called tacycardia (no, I don't know how to spell it). The nurses had to slowly massage her heart rate back down to a safe level. Had she been at home, which would have been the case with the HMO, she would have passed with hardly any visible clue as to why & it would have ben written off as SIDS.

Since we were able to get a health plan of our choosing we were able to get more time with Cheyenne. We took her home two weeks after her birth & we woke to a backyard full of dove. The dove were loud and abundant.

.....but that is another story.

STYX, Live! ...The Universe always has a plan.

 In 1999 I began noticing my oldest daughter, Cheyenne, our rainbow, was not looking so well. She was lethargic, had red circles under her eyes, an ear infection (first & only of her life) and her belly began looking like one of those children in a 3rd world country who has not eaten in days...bloated. Cheyenne loved watching two bands' live dvd concerts: Fleetwood Mac & Styx. She knew all the words to all the songs but would only sing if she thought we were not around. She begged us daily to take her to a Styx concert & we promised we would the next time they came to town.

 What I didn't notice was that she was dying. She was suffering from congestive heart failure due to a genetic defect. She was only 3 years old. The doctors kept saying she just had a virus. Finally I told her that if she didn't get better she would have to go back to the doctor & she said "No mommy, I need to go to the hospital".  Then she got up on the couch next to me, told me to get Daddy, and said I needed to listen to the words to the next song. I waited for it to begin & it was Lady, by STYX. When her daddy came downstairs she said "Sit down daddy, listen to the words, sing the words and listen daddy". It was Come Sail Away, another STYX song. We were oblivious. We didn't understand what she was getting at but we listened.

 The next day we took her to the hospital. Two days later she was gone, climbing aboard that starship with a gathering of angels who invited her to come sail away. Somehow we missed out on our pot of gold, but we try, oh Lord we try, to carry on.

 Last night we went to see them in concert, how many times we've gone I have no idea. We enjoyed the show, rocked like everyone else in the Arena Theater, but unlike anyone else we cried. I made it through Lady OK, but when they did Come Sail Away I was desperately clinging to my camera & photo of Cheyenne, our Rainbow, but eventually gave in & totally broke down.

 I miss her and her sister, Emily so much I can't stand it some days. What gets me through, both of us, is that a tiny 3 year old, who was just developing the ability to communicate, found a way to prepare us for her departure. We are so blessed to have had both our girls in our lives, been chosen as their parents, seen the light of God in their eyes, and observed Cheyenne's total fearlessness and comfort with the knowledge that she was going away from us. She was an old soul with a deep understanding of the ways of God & the universe. She was our teacher & through her we learned to be strong, have faith, and count our blessings.

 So every time the band comes to Houston we go, we sing, we grieve. We also act like silly groupies desperately trying to get notes to the band to let them know our story. Last night we waited outside, met a few of their team, though not them, & we got our note on the tour bus. Now it is in God's hands...and a certain little rainbow's. If they actually read our note and check this blog (as requested in the note) we will know we had some help getting it to them.

 Speaking of help, cameras with detachable lenses (such as mine) were not allowed in. My husband had my bigger lens tucked away in his coat pocket & my smaller lens & camera body were in my purse. We made it through two metal detectors & a purse search. The cop handled the camera but never took it out of the small purse nor questioned me about it. Nick's coat is covered in metal snaps & should have set off the detectors but it didn't. I guess a certain little rainbow wanted to be sure we got our pictures!

I got nearly 300, not all so great, but deciding which ones to use was difficult! These were my choices today, I'm sure they would be different tomorrow. Oh well, you get the idea. It was a great night, ending with the sudden realization as we were driving home that that big black bus next to us was them leaving town after the show! Yes, we acted like idiots, two middle-aged people honking & waving as we road along side them until our exit off the freeway came & we had to say goodbye...again.

Perhaps we didn't miss out on our pot of gold after all!

One final note: as a student in England back in '85 I met Tommy Shaw on a street corner, visited, and went on with no idea what lay ahead. Then 10 years later my husband & I met him again after seeing a show in Houston & he remembered the meeting in London, but still I had no idea what lay ahead. I would love to sit down and visit with him about the deeper meaning of life in all this!