Making the Best of It

Our loss, will be a part of everything we do, everything we experience, for a while if not our whole lives. Because we'll never stop loving Drew, we'll never stop missing him. But I think as I begin to expect the sadness, get better at acknowledging it and incorporating it in to my experiences without taking away from my joy, I will be doing the best I can after such a tragedy.

Our first fundraiser for Warrior Wagons was one of those experiences. Josh and I spent so much time and energy planning and organizing the event, that I didn't really think about and prepare to feel our loss as heavy as I did through it.

I somehow was surprised that as the big day approached it felt a lot like a "first", like the many we've gone through since Drew's death. The familiar buildup began in the few days before the event. I started feeling the mixed emotions, the internal struggle of embracing and allowing the joy/excitement for our big night, while at the same time enduring the heartache, the missing of our little boy.

For some reason, I seem to still catch myself feeling excited or happy and feel guilty or that I'm being inappropriate somehow. How can you smile and have a party, don't you even remember what brought you here, that your son died?? Don't you even care what happened? my heart seems to ask.

I worked to set it straight--my head knows better. I know I haven't forgotten. I know I wouldn't have chosen this path, that I never would rather have it this way. I would give anything if I could only have my Drew back, totally healed. Being excited and pleased by what we're doing doesn't take away from that, doesn't make that any less true.

And really, I know that no one else thinks those things. I'm pretty confident no one else wonders if we've forgotten, if we somehow would rather have it this way. Why do I do this to myself? Prayerfully, I'll need to continue to dismiss these thoughts as they pop into my head, as they try to take away my joy. It's what the Bible calls "taking every thought captive" I've decided, what that means in real life. Stopping myself right there and granting permission to be happy even in the midst of our grief...




And then the day came, and it was so wonderful. I think I can say that it was a great event from all the accounts. So many told us how well it was planned, how much fun their kids had, and how good the food was! Which was so nice to hear, after spending so much time working to make it happen in the last few months.

It was so fun to see it come to life after planning it for so long. The face painting, kids carnival games, jugglers--all came together to create a really fun atmosphere along with the "adult" stuff on the fundraising side.

And plans not only came to life, but grew beyond what we imagined. The silent auction ended up having 60 items, and we even added a raffle! Outside, the one tractor that was planned to give kids rides turned into three!

A firetruck and police car made it a party in the parking lot, in addition to the party going on inside.

But what really made it was the people. By 5:15 the place was hoppin', and it stayed that way until after our program was done at 7:30. It was so amazing to see people from every area of our lives, and all parts of the community. We even had a Warrior there with her extended family! It all added up to be just breathtaking. The stories people told me, the way Warrior Wagons has inspired them, it was just awesome.

Josh and I had set a goal at the beginning of our planning at $20,000. I have to admit, I was hesitant to commit to that goal--it seemed like too much. Too high of a number. But I got behind it, and we went to work. And at the end of the day, minus expenses, Warrior Wagons took in $26,000!! It is truly amazing, and humbling. I'm still in awe of what a community can do, what GOD can, do with willing hands and open hearts.

Yet, my heart was feeling the empty space without my Drew. It ached for the little boy that wasn't getting to ride in a tractor, or have a fire hat placed on his head. What would he have gotten painted on his cheek? I missed my Drew. And I know he would have had a blast at the party, he did have a blast at the Make-a-Wish reveal party which we kind of modeled the kid part of our fundraiser after!

And apparently I wasn't the only one. So many in our community who followed our story, felt like they knew Drew even if they'd never met him. And some shared with me at the event or after it that they felt the loss, the void without Drew, right along with us. It was comforting in a way to hear, that others missed him too. And a few went on to share that they felt Drew there with us, which was even more comforting. I did too!

I realized that the undertone of sadness some were feeling that night wasn't all about Drew either. As I watched the sideshow run through showing some kids who have received a Warrior Wagon in the last year, my heart ached for them too. I know what those kids have had to experience. I feel for their mothers who have had to watch, helpless as their babies fight for their lives. I hate that this has to happen in the first place.

I wish that children didn't get cancer and would never be in need of a Warrior Wagon. It breaks my heart that we have already learned that one child who received a Warrior Wagon has joined Drew in Heaven, meaning another family has to go on without one of their littlest members. Childhood cancer really is a sad, terrible thing.


But, there is Hope.

We can have a party, and celebrate the smiles. We can come together as a community and provide for these families. We are able to show families just like ours, that people care, and they aren't fighting alone. And that, is huge. It's all we can do.

We can't change what has happened, or the terrible things that are in the world, but we can choose to make the best of it. We can choose joy instead of despair. Which doesn't mean that we deny the obvious sadness, or that we pretend it doesn't exist. But like I said above about my life after Drew's death, if we all can learn to incorporate the sadness into our experiences in a way that doesn't take away from our joy, then we're doing the best we can in this tragic world. Not allowing cancer to win in our lives, or in our community. We will be following a special little boy named Drew's amazing example of smiling, even as we endure.

And I think that's just what we did last Friday night.   

The LIttle Things

We continue to be busy working on our upcoming fundraiser for our nonprofit, Warrior Wagons, INC. And we are seeing such success already with local business sponsors, products/services donated for the event, and individuals contributing silent auction baskets and volunteering to help. It's amazing, really. I honestly didn't expect to have this much support, for it to be this easy to gather this community behind us.

It's also been a lot of work too, yet God continues to send me encouragement, just when I need it. In the last few weeks we heard from a couple different families that recently received a Warrior Wagon, and it was such a huge reminder and reinforcement of just what this is all about.

One Mom shared that she cried when the staff brought in their Warrior Wagon. To see her child happy and to see the care that was put into selecting the items which she knew would be so useful, caused her to be overwhelmed with emotion. Another mom described her Warrior Wagon as "life changing" to someone I know who chatted with her at St Mary's...

Wow. That really got me, and made me cry too. On one hand, because I'm so grateful that we can do this for people--that through God's grace and other's generosity we get to make those moments for these families.

But mostly, because I understand just why some cry when they get a seemingly simple thing like a collapsible wagon. It may seem dramatic or over the top--but I know where the tears come from, why it matters so much, because I have been just where they are.

When you are so beaten down, so desperate for anything positive in a world that seems so unfair and cruel as you watch your precious baby endure things no one should have too, small gestures matter. And they strike you so deep because it gives you just a little hope, that there still is good in the world. That people do care. And you embrace the joy it brings, even if just for a few minutes, because it may be the only few minutes of happiness you feel all day.

I remember when a family brought a gift to Drew early in his treatment. We'd met them in the play room at St Mary's earlier that day, this family was there with their own child going through a brain surgery. But they came to our room a little later with a small stuffed frog for Drew. It was that thoughtful gift from a virtual stranger who was in the middle of her own struggle, that brought me to tears almost exactly two years ago. I sat with my Drew, watching him play with it in his bed, hooked up to 3 different tubes from his IV pole, one filling him with antibiotics we prayed would work on his infection, so very touched by the love that little frog represented. Someone knew what this is like, and cares.

I remember how excited I was all day for a couple of my best friends to visit me and take me to supper when I'd been staying with Drew all week at the hospital alone. I remember when one of those same dear friends gave ME our wagon to haul my Drew around and it was the most useful thing. Pizza anonymously delivered to our house, my favorite popcorn being shipped to me, a friend who sent me flowers after we got the really bad news...I could go on and on sharing the kind things others did for us in the last two years! And each thing I can specifically recall, and remember how much it meant to me.

 

These last couple weeks hearing from some of our new Warrior Wagon families really affected me because I've been just where these mothers are. I know how much small gestures of kindness from others really can make all the difference in your life. It was powerful to be reminded that there are moms just like the me of 2 years ago, so desperate for something good in such an awful world. And I'm left wishing I could do more than just offer them a Wagon and the possibility of companionship.  I cry for them because I was them, and I know how very hard it is. 

And yet, because I've been there, I know that what seems like a little thing like a collapsible wagon, really can make a difference. So as I have continued to ask for support, plan entertainment, organize volunteers this week, I have this renewed sense of purpose. Maybe we aren't changing the world through our Warrior Wagons, but I know we are changing some family's world, even if just in a small way. THAT's why we are working so hard right now.

And the reality is, it's not just moms of cancer kids at the hospital that are in that desperate state for something good. It could be the lady in front of me at the grocery store, who may be going through a nasty divorce and her whole world is crashing down. Or a woman beside me at a Y class that just miscarried, again, and is consumed with disappointment and frustration. Maybe the person that just cut me off after the stop light has just lost his job, and the fear of what-am-I-going-to-do has him too distracted to follow basic traffic laws. My point is, we just don't know where others are at in their lives, whether one nice compliment or some kind words will be what saves their heart that day.

In a way, it's almost easier to give to those obviously in need, but what about the ones like those examples above that are suffering and no one knows about it? That's why we need to remember how deep the little things can penetrate and do those small act of kindness. Bring someone a coffee. Offer to watch their kids for 2 hours. Take them a meal. Offer a compliment, give people the benefit of the doubt. A simple text saying that you are thinking of someone this morning really can help.

If you're fortunate enough to have never been in that place where something nice someone does for you makes you cry, changes your outlook on life in a moment, you probably will be there someday. And then you'll understand why the little things really do matter. So slow down, look around you, and do what you can, not overlooking the little things.

I remember a day after we were told Drew "probably" wouldn't make it, and we were inpatient doing the clinical trial that would eventually fail. Someone had left gourmet coffee in the floor kitchenette--what a treat! Bingo was going on in the playroom and I decided to play a card while Drew played himself. I sipped the actually good tasting coffee, and I remember thinking how ridiculous it was that something like good coffee could be such a big deal, could have such an effect on my mood, but it did. And that morning I spent with my son, in what I was unaware were his final weeks, I drank my flavored coffee, and my life was a little brighter. I don't know who brought it in that day, but I hope they someday know how much we all on Mary Brigh 3 appreciated it.

Don't brush off the little things you can do for someone else.

May I never forget where I've been. May I never go too long, get too comfortable or too busy in my life to not appreciating the little things, and may I freely give the kind gestures I can in my everyday life. May I be a light that so many were to me, reminding others that there is still good in this world, even when the ugly is all they seem to see. People do care, and there is hope. May I never forget, and may you too always be conscious of the little things that make up each day, which in turn, make up our whole lives.

*** If you haven't heard about our fundraiser, or want to know more about Warrior Wagons, INC., check out our Facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/WarriorWagonsINC/ or website,  www.warriorwagonsinc.com  ****