Six Months Free

Not too long ago, we marked 6 months without Drew here with us.  It's hard to believe it's been that long, and then some days that it has only been that long.  On good days, I can see the light, how we will be okay through this, and I have hope for our future in this lifetime.  But there are still some days when all I can do is hold on to the Truth I know, and the Hope that goes beyond this lifetime.  The Hope that we will all be together again, and everything will be made right in this broken world.

Six months Drew's been free.  Free from the rapidly growing cancer that literally suffocated him in his final week.  Free from tubes, scans, procedures and pain. 

For six months in Earth time he's been completely whole, basking in God's glory.  Receiving a reward that doesn't even compare with the suffering he endured.  I explained to Molly on July 19th that it was like Drew's half birthday.  "Huh?"  She looked confused.  It's his half birthday from when he was born into Heaven.  If we choose to, we can celebrate it like that, because isn't it a celebration?  Shouldn't it be?  Drew went Home.  And was spared from any more suffering and disappointment he'd surely face down here.  Into the loving arms of Jesus Himself.

What has he done in this much time?  Maybe he's got all his hair back by now.  Maybe he's gotten used to hearing again--all the frequencies (remember the transplants wiped out his high frequency hearing).  He surely has learned how to eat again, and tasted all sorts of amazing things.  Has he had a chance to sit on my Grandpa Ploen's lap?  Played some Marbles with his Great Great Grandma La Von after he showed her around?  How about the Tree of Life, he loved that sleeping tree at the Village in Florida, maybe he's found the ultimate Tree.  I hope he's gotten to drive whatever it was he said he wanted to that last day we had together.  Is he really growing, did he turn 3?  Molly would like to know.  I wish we could get an update.  But I guess we'll have to wait and dream.

What have we done?  Well, I first think we've just been quite sad.  But then, I guess we've done a lot too.  Updated his room.  Gotten through countless firsts--not just holidays and his birthday, but the hard ones no one knows. Like the first Gator ride with only one seat filled, the first night not tucking him in, the first nice day without his shopping cart being pushed down the sidewalk.  We've started to give back, and help others going down the same difficult road through Warrior Wagons.  Yes, we've been quite sad, but we've also had some good days too.  Maybe six months out that's something to celebrate.  Through God's strength we've been able to choose joy.

Six months in, I've felt like some with us are running out of steam.  That some are getting burnt out from helping me through the hard work of grieving. At first I was upset at some phone calls not returned, some texts that went unanswered.  Has our pain been forgotten about?  Can we really be expected to shoulder this alone already?  Doesn't anyone care anymore?  But I think that's not it.  It's just that there's nothing else to say.  There's nothing else that can be done.   Even I feel like that sometimes--there's just nothing else to say but that, I miss him. So, so much.  And no one really can do anything to make it all better.   Eventually, we will have to live on our own with this burden of what wasn't meant to be.  We'll learn to function with the deep split in our hearts that probably will never heal just like new.

I decided I don't want to hurt my relationships with family and friends because I'm angry they can't keep up with this sorrow.  I can't be upset they need a break, I wish I could have one!  So I decided to go beyond what's worked up until now.  What else is there?  Support groups.  I got a flyer for one from the funeral home on just the right day (funny how God does that).  So I went, it met at the Senior Center at 10 AM, one day a week for the summer session.  I was expecting to be the youngest by far, and I was.  But, I've found some useful material, perspective, and understanding there--me and the widows/widowers.  I also talked with the Child Psychologist while I was delivering Wagons the last time at Mayo.  The same guy who I talked to all last year as our dramatic story unfolded.  And that helped too.  He knows me.  He knows our family.  He's familiar and knows what I need to hear.  These new resources have helped refresh me, as I shared that I was getting pretty overwhelmed and tired as I'm moving through this difficult season of my life.

And lately God's showing me people do still care, I just need to see it.  Just like the things to be thankful for, I need to take to heart all the ways I'm being loved by others.  Instead of focusing on the one friend that didn't reply to my text, or the call that wasn't returned, I need to look around.  And I feel foolish for even thinking that I've been abandoned.  The ladies who stop me walking around Mill Pond to tell me how much my last post touched them.  Kids at the pool who know us through Drew and spent a whole afternoon shouting, "Heidi!  Watch this!", like I had a fan club.  And all the heartfelt comments and reactions in this virtual world from people I've never met. 

And friends who care enough to arrange a hot air balloon ride for me after I casually mentioned I'd like to go up in one someday on Facebook.  Yes, that next week multiple people contacted a gentlemen in town who has a balloon trying to get me a ride, and the very next weekend, we went up. 

Bright and early I watched the sunrise as peacefully as we did into the morning sky. 

Seeing our town get smaller and smaller the higher we rose, I couldn't help but think it may be a glimpse of what my Drew gets to see.  And also showed me how small we are in this big, beautiful world. 

We went over some fields before we came back down.  As I looked over row after row of corn and beans...

I immediately remembered the truth God's shown me time and time again, Trust Me.  I'll get you through this big field of life.  Like the Good Farmer steering a little tractor, some passes have been and will be harder than others, but, row by row, we'll get it done--my Lord and I.  And then, I'll get to be free too.  Free from the ache in my heart, the disappointment of this world, and be born into Heaven where I'll too get to bask in the very Glory of God with my baby boy...

Appreciate What You Have...

Oh, the little years...

As Summer keeps marching on, I've been noticing how different life is without a little one.  Any mom of one of these bundles of joy will tell you how tiring it is.  Entertaining, chasing, disciplining, enforcing naptime, dealing with them after an unsuccessful nap, changing them...its exhausting.  And so many in the middle of the little years can't wait to be done with them--myself was definitely included. 

I remember seeing how much easier it got when Molly turned three--that was the turning point for her.  She could sit for more then 30 seconds and do something.  She could go to the bathroom all by herself--no assistance.  She could even begin to do some things for herself like get a drink or put on her own clothes/shoes.  As I chased and sweat behind the dust cloud of my 18 month old boy two Summers ago, I remember dreaming of days I'd get to go to the park and just sit on a bench and chat with other moms.  Or when I could go to Subway and not have to pick up every bag of chips from the floor.

I'd think...there'll be a day when I don't have to pull him off of things everywhere we go, like at the fair.

I'd tell myself it'd be quiet someday, the fighting wouldn't be so non-stop...

I knew that the tantrums would get less frequent (although there really wasn't too many from Drew, Molly....), they wouldn't yell at me forever...

I knew there'd be a day for all of this...but I just had to wait. 



Are you seeing where I'm going with this?  Now I'm here.  I do just sit on a bench at the park.  I go to the pool, and the last time, I brought a book--can you imagine?  And I actually read it-ha! 

I can take Molly with me to a "play date" and it's more moms chatting within sight/earshot of kids instead of right in the middle on top of them.  And at the family reunion over the weekend in Iowa, for the first time I did more chatting than chasing.  I note these things.  I may even enjoy it for a moment, thinking how much "easier" it is now.  And in the very next moment, I feel like the worst mother in the world for it.

I feel totally terrible that I could even think it's easier without my Drew.  My heart screams inside of me, "Wait!  This shouldn't be!!  You aren't suppose to be here yet!!"  I was suppose to have two more years of littles.  I should be chasing around my baby boy.  I should be at my wits end because he decided not to nap and now he's a mess.  I should be the one still dreaming of these more hands-free days.  But here I am.  And it doesn't feel at all like I imagined it.  I can't really enjoy it like I planned, since the price I paid for this "freedom" was far too high.

After all those years of looking forward to this position--I'd give it up in heartbeat to be chasing my little one again. Even if it is more calm, simpler in some ways, it certainly is not easier to carry around this weight of grief.  To endure this ache in my heart everyday as I sit at the pool with my book.  I'm wrong, this is not the easier way.  Less chaos, more downtime, less physical, yes.  But the emotional and mental energy it takes to walk around this house where my baby boy used to be, to be around the kids he would be playing with, and to see Molly riding solo in their Gator each afternoon is NOT easier than chasing around a crazy two year old boy.  I'd do anything to be following the dust cloud behind my Drew again.  To be physically tired from chasing him around all day, not emotionally tired from holding back tears all day instead, I'd much rather be.

I feel myself getting upset sometimes listening to other moms complain about little ones, and how exhausting it is. And I get it, I really do!  Because I remember a time not too long ago I was one of them.  I want so badly to tell them, "Stop.  Just stop.  Appreciate what you have!!"  But I also know no amount of "appreciate what you have" would have changed my mood some days two years ago when I had reached my max with my two littles. 

And thinking about it now, maybe I'm not really upset at other moms, because their reality is their reality.  Some days, I know, you really have just had enough.  Maybe I'm really mad at myself.  Mad at the time I lost playing that just-waiting-for-them-to-grow-up game. I didn't appreciate what I had.  I wished the little years away, and tragically, I got my wish.  I know its not rational guilt, it was natural to be exasperated, and I couldn't have known.  But I cringe every time I remember saying, "I can't wait until Drew's three, we'll be able to do so many more things!", because that day never came...

It took hearing, "there is a large mass, and there's a small chance it's not cancer" to wake me up from my daydreaming of easier days with older kids, to appreciate the everyday.  To choice joy, instead of exasperation.  To take the extra time to go the long way home so we could go over his favorite "bumpy choo-choo tracks", and I could hear his little laugh from the back seat. 

To smile as he sang Jingle Bells to me in the middle of the night after a total bed/pajamas/diaper change from Chemo sick.  To let him push around that annoying little shopping cart at the grocery store and chuckle at him loading jars of pickles into it. 

And to enjoy his antics instead of being annoyed by them at the kid music group, even if it was at the hospital playroom. 

Or to actually sit and colored with him, on his tray over his hospital bed.

I guess I did enjoy some of the little years, I didn't lose them all. I did stop dreaming about when he'd be older and savor the time I had.  Its just too bad what it took to open my eyes.  I write here so hopefully some who aren't as caught up in their little years like I was, who aren't so tired they can't see straight to read this, can have their eyes opened a little bit without all the heart ache I've withstood.  Without paying the price I've paid for perspective.

There are tons of articles telling moms of littles that they're going to miss these little years, almost all of which are written from the perspective that kids grow up, and you miss them little.  I'm telling you as one mom who's never did grow up, you will miss these little years, so cherish them.

So instead of trying to tell you to appreciate what you have in mid-chase of your two year old at the park, or as I watch you clean up a mess on the verge of tears at what's ruined, or as we are interrupted for the 60374730th time by your little one, I'll tell you now.  In a moment of non-conflict, when you have a minute to yourself because you are reading this--Appreciate what you have.  And I hope it comes across not in a lecturing or guilt trip way, but in a sincere, "I wish I would have" way.  Because you never know when it could all be taken from you in a year's time. 

So hug those babies in the middle of the night when they're sick.  Still make them take a nap, but don't totally lose it if they don't.  I know you're tired and exhausted--go to bed early, so you can have the energy to chase them another day.  And know that when you see me at the pool reading a book, or browsing the adult section at the library while Molly's on the computers, or walking through the grocery store alone since Molly's at a friend's, that what you can't see is how much I'm hurting inside.  You can't tell from my polite smile as I watch you with your crazies that I would trade phases of life with you without question if I could just have my Drewy back.... 

For Better or Worse

It's been 9 years since Josh and I were married.  It was on a Friday night, July 18th, 2008, in my hometown of Ames, Iowa. 

We'd been together for nearly 4 years, almost my entire time in college.  We met in one of my first year meteorology classes, which also was a popular choice for general education classes for non majors.  Looking back on it, it's funny how we got together.  Josh found me through the Iowa State student directory and emailed me, teasing me to make sure I sat by him the next time we had class.  I was kind of not on top of things, which may not surprise some, and didn't actually check my email for almost two weeks after he had sent it!  I felt bad, wondering how awkward he must have felt those two weeks without a reply or me bringing it up.  But I did sit by him, and spent probably more time flirting with him during that class than getting introduced to Meteorology concepts.  Which I guess as it turns out, was getting more prepared for my future than the Meteorology material. 

We went on our first date on Halloween weekend, to a haunted house.  And the rest, as they say, is history.  We were a part of each other's everyday from then on.  We got to really know each other as we grew up on our own at college.  He helped me "adult", as he had a little more experience doing things on his own.  And by nature is a little more logical and independent, which was good for me.  I like to think I showed him how to loosen up a little.  To have some fun and do some "pointless" things--like buying pumpkins in the fall, using bows and matching paper on Christmas gifts, making things from scratch and doing things maybe a less efficient way in order to enjoy the process as much as the product.

I can see how smart of a match God really made in us.  How much was thought through when brining us together and what we'd need from each other to get through something like this.  Josh is so great at keeping his head on straight.  At being organized, on top of things.  He can separate his emotions from his decisions, and can operate effectively under intense stress.  He thinks things through, looks at every angle.  He is a strong leader.  Which is good, because I like to be lead.  I like someone else to make decisions, because I have a hard time with that.  I am more than happy--tickled in fact--to be given a task to do, and I'll do it with enthusiasm if I agree with it.  I have more of a tendency to let my emotions get in the way.  I have a harder time not thinking about things like he can.  But I do know how to choose joy.  How to have a positive attitude, and have fun chatting with others.  Josh has joy too, but it isn't as apparent sometimes.  Together, we make a perfect team.  I heard a lot over the course of last year, about how well we compliment each other.  The nurses, who get to know a family really well as they literally are there as you go to bed and wake up in the morning, would comment about how different Josh and I are, yet, how well it works.  And how Drew adapted to both of us in our own ways.  It's amazing how God knows each of us so well, and who will be our best partner for the life he has planned for us.  He brings the right people together at just the right time. 

 I've decided that marriages seem to work best when, after God brings you together, you then put your own time and energy into the relationship before you ever say  "I do".  I think it was a key for us, how we were successful dealing with the storm of last year and this one.  It saves you a lot of trouble I think if time is taken to really get to know each other, to watch how they handle life, before you get married.  To learn who they truly are by their actions, not just how they say they handle things.  What they do when they are stressed; how they act when they are angry--and what works best to defuse it; what makes them happy; and what counts to them--their "love language".  And then decide if you can deal with what you observe for the rest of your life. 

If you decide you can, then you move forward.  Then when a more major crisis comes in your "happily ever after", and they do come to all of us at some point, you can anticipate the way they may act, or expect the behavior they have in that type of circumstance.   And deep down, you can trust that that person you know and love is in there, even if they are acting in a way you don't like, but deemed manageable during the earlier phases of the relationship.  I think of the period after a baby is born when this is so evident.  Everyone is tired, stressed, and frustrated.  Especially in the middle of the night.  You have to know the other person isn't really a jerk, despite the way they are currently acting.  And if you do know them deep down, and trust them, you can weather the storm together and eventually a better season will come.

Right now we are in that type of situation, just much more enhanced.  We are both dealing with our grief in a different way.  As you have read on here, my mind and heart are all over the place.  It helps me to talk about it, to write.  And also to cry.  But I know Josh, and those things he's never done.  So I shouldn't expect him to start now.  What does he do when he's upset?  Well I can look to our past, when we were stressed with newborns, when we were making major job and home decisions.  And even before that, in college when we were discussing  our future, or when he broke his foot and couldn't do things for himself very well.

I can anticipate and expect some of the things he did during those times. And know that however he's acting or what he's doing is just part of how he copes.  That the person I love is still there, just like my fun-loving self was there behind all the emotions and talking through things I did adjusting to becoming a Mom.

During our pre-marital counseling I remember the pastor explaining how marriage is not 50/50 like most people think.  But it's actually 100/100.  You both need to give all that you have, go the extra mile for your spouse, to truly be in a marriage that is healthy and joyful.  Right now that is such an important concept to practice.  Is he taking some of his frustration with life out on me by being overly critical?  Am I asking too much of him, because I can't have what I really want?  Are we short and cold with each other at times because we just can't deal with the other person today?  Sometimes, yes.  But right now especially, we need to be even more forgiving.  Give the benefit of doubt more often.  Excuse some harsh words exchanged.  Because deep down, we know the other person isn't really a jerk.  We are just both hurting.  And to a certain extent, there isn't anything we can do to help each other, which is even harder to realize.

I don't talk a lot about how and what Josh is doing, because I know that he is a private person, and I respect that (another big key in a marriage--respect).  And frankly, I don't talk about our marriage very much in general, not only for that reason, but because that's probably one of the easiest parts of this whole thing for us, which I know to be so thankful for.  Yes, we have some moments, some days where we aren't just enjoying the heck out of each other, but we understand each other.  And after what we've been through we can still laugh together, dream about the future, tease each other when one of us is taking something too seriously, and reminisce about a past life before marriage, before kids, before cancer.  And I know that's pretty special, and something to never take for granted.

We've been through a whole lot together in the last 9 years of marriage, almost 13 together.  And especially in the last 18 months.  We've depended on one another in a way that most never will have to.  We've seen things together that no one should have to see.  We've had to make decisions no one should have to decide.  We've said goodbye together, to a person that was brought into the world through us.  Sometimes no words have been needed, because with just an exchanged glace, we know.  To say it hasn't been easy doesn't do it all justice.  It has been SO hard.  And it continues to be.  But we have done it together, and with the mighty help of God.  And we will continue to get through this with His help, and many prayers.

Because we choose to.  Just like the choice we have to be joyful or not, we have to choose to love each other.  Even when it's hard.  When it's unfair.  When we are tired, and wounded ourselves, and don't want to care about anyone else's feelings because our own are demanding so much or our attention.  But we must keep trying.   With the help of God, we can choose to love each other through this, which may be the only real thing we can do to help each other feel better.  And when things have settled, when the pain and sorrow becomes more background noise than rock-concert-level like it is now, we'll know that we can get through anything.  For richer or poorer, in sicknesses and in health, and for better or worse until we are separated by death. When one of us will get to reunite with our Drew first.

Joshua James, thanks for putting up with my antics for the last 9 years, and you're welcome for putting up with yours ;)  Happy Anniversary!

Life's Not Fair

Lately I've been struggling with the things I feel were unfinished.  Frustrated because I feel like I put so much effort towards a cause that wasn't ever realized.  That I put in work, to not get what I expected in return. Because for almost 3 years when we worked to bring an infant baby into a little boy, and it seems like it was for nothing.  Timeouts to shape an obedient and respectful boy that never was.  Teeth that kept us up at night while cutting through, to not even be used in his last year.  Fingernails that grew back after the chemo made them fall off, only to cover his precious finger tips for 6 more months.  Frustration and tears spent sleep training to create an awesome sleeper, only to have him never wake up.   It was three years of our lives, being pregnant, giving birth, raising a little boy, and I have nothing to show for it.  What a waste.  All of our work wrapped up in a little boy named Drew that was taken from us.  All I have now is a closet full of his things, and a half-full urn.  How unfair.

And of course last year.  All the exhausting work that treatment involved.  All the pain he endured.  The nights waking up multiple times to clean and change bedsheets and pajamas from chemo sickness.  The early mornings going over for tests and scans.  The months we sat in hospital rooms, while everyone else was celebrating holidays and enjoying their lives.  But we kept the faith. We had so much hope.  We worked at maintaining a positive outlook.  Where did that get us?  Why do some not have to do any of those things and get to keep their babies, and we had to give ours back? Instead of planning a third birthday party, I planned a Memorial Service.

How unfair... I can feel anger start to build up, resentment trying to take root.  And there is so much injustice in the world, I'm not the only one I'm sure who's tempted to feel like this.  I'm sure the couple struggling with infertility as they watch a news story of a child abused and abandoned can relate.  Or a long time single woman who just learned another friend is engaged, and her loneliness overwhelms because, why not her?  Or the hard worker passed over for the promotion because someone misrepresented themselves to get ahead...Why does it seem like the good guys always finish last? I guess we're seeing that our mothers were right after all, life's not fair.

And its true, this life's not fair.  But luckily, this life isn't the end of the story.   There is more than this life and the earth as we know it. We are only in the middle of the story.  There is more to come, so I can't proclaim this unfair yet, since I still don't know if it'll be evened out.  I can't say that Drew, our family, and I will not get to see the fruit of our labor, because it's not over.  But the good news is, we have the Bible to give away the ending--and it WILL all be made right.   "He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever." (Rev 21:4).   The whole Bible points to a conclusion that will correct all that was wrong in the world.  A New Heaven and a New Earth where there is nothing bad and everything good.  The memory of this time of injustice will serve only to highlight how great the new world will be. Bring on the day!

And even currently, I have to remember that Drew is still very much Drew, just somewhere else. Using those teeth we worked so hard for to chew all the pickles and Oreos and whatever else is on the buffet in Heaven.  He's using his manners we tried to teach him and is now pleasing the Father, and all my relatives that are getting to know him. 

All our work was needed to create the Drew that carries on in Heaven, he just got to go before the rest of us.  His suffering made him into the person he is right now, and also helped shape others along the way.  And will continue as we go on to share his story.

And I do have something to show for the last three years of my life in the here and now.  People who knew us before, know that we are not the same people we were before Drew.  We are so much more.  Our work in the last three years made me more loving.  More understanding.  Certainly more thankful.  Drew and all that was involved in caring for him helped us be more faithful, it deepened our trust and dependence on God.  It taught me to be more flexible, to not get so worked up about little things, and to never take anything for granted.  In the last three years with Drew we learned to live each day to the fullest, and to choose joy.  I guess we've done quite a lot in those years that shows.  They were not a waste by a long shot.  And we will continue to write the Becker Story as we draw from our experience with this pretty great kid named Drew, who you'll all meet if you haven't someday.

Life's not fair, but God is.  And in His Kingdom, when it comes, we will experience the justice we so crave on this earth.  It doesn't mean the unfairness of this world doesn't hurt.  That we can't cry for what we want but can't have, and that others take for granted.  And he keeps track of all our sorrows, collects our tears in His bottle, recording each in His book. (Psalm 56:8)--what a thick book mine must be these days!  But the day is coming when his justice will roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream (Amos 5:24).  Thankful today that Drew is already in that Kingdom, and looking forward to the day it reigns here on Earth too...

Our Becker Story

This week I went to put together a picture collage of my two children in their patriotic gear.  I am kind of nuts about dressing kids (okay, cats too) for holidays, so I knew I had some good ones.  I found the one where Drew was tiny, just a few months old.  Then the next year I had them both in Kansas City for a family reunion by myself.  And last year.  They actually weren't together, Drew was still in the hospital recovering from his first transplant.  But I had taken a picture of them the day I brought out the stars and stripes decorations a couple weeks before.  I looked at the two of their smiling faces..Look at them.  My babies.  Never to be in another picture together on the 4th of July in this lifetime.

The usual feelings filled me.  Sadness.  Longing for a life that seems so long ago, when I heard them laugh together, tease each other, and share in life.  I felt that ache deep inside that still flares up most days.  I wish I had more than 3 years with both my babies...

But then I caught myself.  I guess maybe the Spirit caught me.  I can't get so tied to the three years I had both of them together on Earth.  Our family story didn't start and end with Drew.  As much as we wish Drew was with us physically for a lifetime, he won't be, and never was going to be.  God knew and planned each chapter of the Becker family, and how our story would go.  The chapter when it was just Molly and us, then when Drew joined it, what the future holds for the Beckers that are still here on Earth after God called Drew Home.  Drew was a gift.  Given to us, and very much a part of our family, but he wasn't to keep.  We'd have to give him back. No matter what, we have always been, and continue to be, the Becker family God planned.  We now just span two realms.

I need to change my perspective.  Not get stuck in the three years of pictures, memories, and milestones and forget the big story of our family.  In 10 years it'll probably be easier.  When the memory of when we had a living little brother isn't so fresh and we're more used to saying we have two kids, a daughter who's 5 and a son in Heaven.  The years with Drew will always be special and some of our favorite times, but there is more to the Becker story.  And maybe if I start to correct my thinking now, I won't spend too much time longing for what we once were and what we've lost, but instead enjoy what we have here on Earth, and also who we have watching over us in Heaven.  I need to remember the big picture.

So I made a new collage, that included pictures of cute baby Molly too--she really was a cute little girl. 

In my head I've said some of this before--that we weren't suppose to have Drew any longer than we were, that God knew how our story would go from the beginning.  But I think this week, my heart is starting to get it too.  The idea is making the longest path in the world--from my head to my heart.  Maybe Drew helped it really sink in some how, but I felt something change inside, like I really actually believed it for once.  We are the Beckers, including Drew, but also after Drew's life on Earth has ended, and we have more to our story.  Three Beckers on earth, one already enjoying Heaven. We will be thrilled, thrilled, thrilled to be together again, and I still cry everyday at some point from missing him, but we can be okay.  And we can be more than okay, we can be happy here until that wonderful day of reunion comes.  It's not that we'll have forgotten him, or didn't love him, or don't care that he's not with us.  Of course not!  But that we accept God's plan for our family, that we are at peace about where Drew is, and that God continues to have a plan for us.

And we can be happy because Drew wants us to be.  He reminded me when he was here, an afternoon I'll never forget.  Not sure if I've shared this whole story before, but we were watching Tangled in preparation for Disney, and I started to cry when the King and Queen got reunited with Repunzel.  He came over to me and put his face real close to mine.  He looked so deep in my eyes and said, "Happy Mom, not sad..." and had the most serious expression of concern and love.  He said it more than once.  It may have just been something a kid says when they see their mom crying, but it seemed more than that.  Like his soul was telling us it was okay to happy, that he didn't want us to be sad.  Josh reminds me of that command a lot from him.  Happy Mom, not sad.

And this summer we've tried to be.  We've had a lot of family events.  Father's Day in Emmetsburg:

Corn Carnival in Iowa:

And Fourth of July in Austin:

And each gathering was a mixed bag of emotions.  Things little boys would love, moments with family we wish everyone was physically there for, and memories that replayed of times when Drew shared in the fun.  In each event I can tell you the things that made me cry, that got that deep ache going again.  But I can also tell you things that made us laugh.  New memories we've made together.  Things that I noted and thanked God for.  Maybe I just need to accept and expect that there will always be things that tug at my healing heart.  And that's okay--it's Drew being still a part of our lives, our Becker story.  It'd be pretty sad if we didn't think of him at special events!  But we need to continue to strive to keep being present, and being thankful.  To not take things for granted because we know all to well how much can change in an instant.  And if when taking the whole holiday, event, or gathering into account I can smile at the memories made and the good times had despite the sad moments, than it was a success.  Search for the joy amongst the sorrow, and we'll be okay.

As we march on through the summer with more fun weekends and family events, I'll keep training my thoughts to do just that.  Continuing the bigger Becker story here on Earth, and not get stuck in the 3 years of it when Drew was living with us.  And to expect to be sad at times, yet, embrace the joy.  Happy, not sad.  I'll keep trying to do that Babycakes...❤❤