Drawing Near to Drew...

There wasn't much time to settle back in from vacation before got right back into it!   Tuesday Molly and I made a trip to Rochester to deliver more Warrior Wagons, this time to the downtown Clinic.  I had planned on going by myself when Molly was at school, but this time when she heard I was going, she asked to come too.  "I want to see all of Drew's friends!".  So I changed plans and we packed a lunch to have a picnic in a park on the way there.  As usual, it was so great to see not just Drew's friends over at Mayo, but our friends.

It lifts me up so much to go back, to be with people who really knew him.  On hard days I sometimes look at pictures of my smiling boy, and hold clothes that'll never be worn again, and wonder if he was even real.  Was he really even here?  He seems so far away, so long ago that I had him to hold.  But going back to hear stories and see the faces of the ones who spent so much time with us last year, confirms that yes!  He was absolutely real, and touched so many.  And we are doing something to make a difference while we wait to be reunited with him.  They gave us such a warm reception with the Wagons too, it really was wonderful. We even saw our flyers in patient exam rooms!

Yesterday we received a message from the first recipient. Complete with a photo of their brave Warrior in the wagon.  Not surprising, it brought tears to my eyes.  This is really happening.  Thank you to all who have donated, money or items, and supported us through encouragement and prayer.  You are making a difference too!

While in Rochester, Molly was a on a mission to do it all.  She wanted to see and go everywhere we frequented last year.  So after we went to Mayo 16 (the children's center at the Clinic) to deliver the Wagons, we walked over to the Radiation department, and then went on to St Mary's where we visited the general Peds and PICU floors.  And she still was upset we didn't get to the "hallway with the big ramp where we ride the cars down", or out in the courtyard to see the fountain.  I really had to deal with a fit from her when it really was time to head home. 

The bereavement and social work coordinators explained to me when I told them Molly's interest in going back and some of her behavior, that it's a very age appropriate way that she is grieving.  She wants to visit the places where she has memories with him, and see the people that were close to him.  She specifically wanted to play basketball with Randy--a wonderful Child Life specialist in the Radiation department that Drew played with each morning for the 13 treatments he received.  Now Molly seriously met him maybe 3 times, but she always heard Drew talking about going to play basketball with Randy during that stage of treatment. Here she is this week, next to Drew last fall.  God bless you Randy!

She also has been playing with his toys--this weekend she got out all of Drew's John Deere machinery and played with them. 





So I guess it's what she's doing right now to process and cope.  And it makes sense.  The same reason why I feel so good after leaving Rochester now too, because it makes me feel closer to Drew.  It's funny that kids just do what they need to, and not think about it as much as we do.  They just feel, and trust.  I should do a little more of that.

Even though it warms my heart to see her interact with Drew's friends, and be interested in Drew's things, it breaks it at the same time.   This is the only way she has to interact with him anymore.  All she can do to feel close to a brother she'll never hug, laugh with, take baths with, or even fight with, in this lifetime again.  It's so unfair to her.  She's already pouted in the van as we leave friend's houses with multiple siblings, "But I have no one to play with, no sisters or brothers or anyone!!!".  Oh baby girl, this wasn't my plan for you.  I'm so sorry it has to be this way.  I hate to see your heart hurting, just as much as I hated to see Drew hurting.  And just like with him, I wish there was something more I could do.  And once again, I can only do so much.  So, through my own tears, I tell her that we will make it work.  We can be sad, and we are, but we will be okay.  We have each other, and there are lots of families that only have one child.  We will just have to stick together, and have our own fun...I am just as much speaking to her as I am myself.

And the truth is, it's hard for me too.  I almost can't handle pictures of the two of them together right now.  My two babies, frozen in time together.  Never to be in the same picture again, always growing further apart in age, since one will never get past two.  I wish I could put them both in my lap and read them a story, have them both look at me in the morning across the breakfast table, even hear them both giggle as they read books in the morning together before their clocks turn green.  They were just starting to play nice together.  Just started to be able to work together to get things done.  I remind myself of my answer when she asked if Drew would miss us, that no, he doesn't miss us like we miss him, thank God, but we sure miss him.

And as I cry for her, for the experiences she won't have with her brother like we had planned, I have to remember that God will pick up the pieces.  He can care for her and her broken heart just as He's caring for mine.  I so want to fix it for her, but I can't.  I have to leave it to Him.  Once again, I have to let go of what I can't control, and let God take care of my baby.  Trust Him to work all things out for her good, and be willing to go with His plan, not mine.  What will He accomplish in her because of all this?  How much good can she do in the world built from the hard lessons she's learned so young?  Maybe Drew already knows, and is so excited to watch it play out.  The prospect is what keeps me going, what gives me hope in each new day, as we grieve the family that we were.

And I realize this is just the beginning for her.  Right now it may even be the easiest as she's enjoying all of our attention and time again, and doesn't fully comprehend all that has just happened in our lives.  But as she develops, she'll grasp more and more.  She'll progressively understand more, and grieve the loss of things she never had.  One doctor told me she'll probably go through a stage where she feels guilty that she doesn't remember him very well.  It hurts to think about that coming day.  Just the idea that she'll one day forget him, and then that she'll hurt as she feels bad about it.

But, I can't get ahead of myself.  For now, I can choose to be grateful that at the time being, she is doing pretty well.  She's leading me through this, whether she means to or not, by her emotional strength, her actions and her rational explanations.  Which gives me time to get myself together.  Heal some before I have to be there for her as she needs me more.  And we'll get through it.  With God and each other, our little family will get through this together.