Friendship

It's been over 4 months since we've been in our new home here in Illinois. And in the last couple weeks I've felt the shift from not only being settled in, but starting to fit in too. Having some real friendships grow in the places we plugged into those first few weeks: the gym, CBS, church, our neighborhood, and Molly's school.

Molly has had a few playdates with a couple of different friends, at our house and theirs. She went with her class bff to Disney on Ice and they even got pulled up on stage!! It was so fun to help her get ready in her princess dress.

She was having some separation anxiety after this move, and me dropping her off places hasn't gone well. But she went with this friend and her family without looking back. Honestly, I felt a little anxious myself as she left! But she had a great time, and I'm so thankful she got the opportunity to see the show with a friend. 

Its been fun to go on some "play dates" of my own, too. Lunch dates, meeting for coffee, and even hosting a little happy hour one Friday afternoon have felt so good. Our family has grown closer through this move, which is a good thing!, but it's nice to start to feel like I have friends again too.

The process of making new friends has been an interesting one to me. I've discovered it definitely is a process! It takes time, and has somewhat of an order. Like so many other things in life, we want to just jump to the "comfortable" stage of friendships, but it takes some work to get there. To really get to get know someone and allow someone to get to know the real you, asks a lot of us.

First impressions can be tricky. And when you add in the pretty dramatic story our life now includes, it feels even more tricky. As I've been making new friends, the initial conversations are sometimes the hardest for me. When do I tell them? I don't want the loss of our two year old son to cancer to be the first thing I tell someone about us.  But at the same time, it comes up quickly with the typical mom questions, "How many kids do you have?" And then I have to decide. Is this the right time, or the right place? Do I really want to get into it right now? And sometimes the answer is no. I decide there's no need, it isn't really relevant or purposeful.

We are working on this dilemma together. Helping Molly (and ourselves really) to understand when it is appropriate, makes sense, to bring it up. And when it's okay not to either. We are having to listen and respect each other when we'd rather not talk about it, when we don't need to tell that person about Drew. Which can be hard for a 7 year old to grasp, and if we're being honest, all of us really.

But we're taking it one day, one situation at a time. No, the person at the librarian at the desk doesn't need to know about Drew. It's okay to not say anything to the other mom in the locker room at swimming when she asks if it's just us. Mostly because Mom doesn't want to go into it right now--we need to finish this shower and get home! And at other times, like early on in her class, Molly doesn't want me to talk about it. It goes both ways, and is something our family will have to continue to work on with each other.

When I do decide to share our story, I'm surprised at how it has made me feel. As I listen to myself explain what happened to new friends here, it feels so different than when I tell our story in a speech. In that setting, I know people have come expecting to hear about our tragedy. But when I tell it to people I'm just chatting with at lunch, and I see the shock and sympathy on their faces, the tears welling up in their eyes, it all hits me again. I reminds me how big of a deal this is. Seeing people's immediate reactions just reminds me how sad our story really is, which I know probably sounds crazy that I sometimes forget.

And not that people back in Minnesota didn't have that reaction, that they didn't care. But they knew us before, during, and after Drew. They went through this with us. We'd already established our impressions of each other, and gotten to the comfortable stage. I'm sure many had all of these reactions I'm seeing on the faces of my new friends as the triumphs and horrors of 2016 played out. I just didn't see them. I was at the hospital, holding my brave son's hand.

I've felt myself hesitate at times to come out with it all as acquaintances continue. I hate to admit, but sometimes I haven't wanted to share all that our last few years has included, because I just want to pretend we are normal. To enjoy the impression that we don't have anything extraordinary about us, that there's not any more story to tell than what you see...is that awful? Does that make it sound like I wish the part of our life with Drew never happened? Surely not. I know that's not true. My head takes over, and reassures me that it just means sometimes I want a break from it all. But my heart winces every time I answer, "Yes, I just have her".

This is how the loss of a child affects so much of your life--for the rest of your life. It's not *just* about missing Drew. Some days though, it is. But other days, its about accepting our new reality. Trying to define ourselves now, in a way that does justice to all we've been through, but not resting on it. Letting the life and death of our son have it's impact on our lives, yet not being ruled by it.

And you know? After over 4 months of the process, I have found some great things about new friends, some huge positives. There really are some wonderful people everywhere. I haven't met an unpleasant one here yet! And if I can get through myself, get over my own story and emotions, it's been so interesting to get to know new people. Every one of us has a story to tell, and it's fascinating to get to hear new ones.

And also, I'm comforted by the fact that more know about Drew. That is the thing--as I cry on my way home from the gym after having shared our story and seeing the tears from others--that makes me smile. Someone else knows. There are more people that know Drew was a real little boy, who bravely endured what no one should, with the best attitude you've ever seen. Another person knows that there was a forth Becker--who also looked just like his dad, and was filled with a personality more like his mom. He was snuggly, trusting, and quite a tease. 

And not only do more people know about our son, but we are doing what we can to raise awareness about childhood cancer each time we recount our journey. Childhood cancer is a real thing that takes young lives every day. It happens to real families in your neighborhood, at your church, and in your gym class. But it doesn't have to destroy you, even if it takes your child's life.

No, the battle with childhood cancer is tough one, but one that can be won with power from Above. With God, all things are possible, and He is faithful to never abandon His children. We can have the most precious gift--our child--taken from us, but through Him, we still have our hope. We have joy. Sharing that is worth all the awkwardness of going into the whole story.

It's ironic with all the warm fuzzies I'm getting about my new friends, I had the pleasure of two of my closest friends from home visit last weekend.

I took them to the most important tourist-y spots--Downtown Chicago, Millennium park, and Portillos :)

It was a great time, a wonderful reminder of the rewards of sustaining real friendships. To have those "comfortable" friends who know not only me, but who know my family. And went through so much real life with us in the last three years, and somehow still think we're fun to be around. We caught up in a heartbeat, had a ton of fun, and made some new memories together! It was fantastic, and just what I needed. It made me think of all the other friends I left that I'd love to have a reunion weekend with too...

Yes, this move has made me put myself out there to meet new friends, and also made me more intentional about maintaining relationships with old friends. No longer can I rely on seeing them at the Y or at school pick up, but I have to make the conscious effort to stay in touch and to reach out. In this transition, it's been fun to use all the ways to stay in touch. How lucky we are in this generation! In addition old school notes and cards in the mail, and planning girls weekends to reunite, we have So. Much. Social media at our fingertips! Who knew Marco Polo was more than just a game for the pool?? 😉 Getting more intentional about friendships isn't a bad thing at all! I just wish there were more hours in the day to keep up with everyone.

So bottom line, moving and transitions are hard! We knew this. And with our loss always on our hearts and in our minds, it seems even more complicated. But, I've learned that there are always positives if you look for them. And I'm really loving my new friends. Really liking getting to know people better. And at the same time, enjoying the strengthening of old friendships too.

And how comforting it is to know that wherever I go, whatever happens, I have the BEST friend in Jesus. Its traditional hymn that has played in my head a lot recently as I've been thinking about friendships and writing this post:

Oh what a friend we have in Jesus, yes!  And oh, how thankful I am for all the friendships He's given me so far--old and new ❤

Attitude

We survived #polarvortex2019. It was a long week, I'm not gonna lie. We started off with the best intentions, and attitude! Molly and I went into it prepared: we got groceries, stopped at the library for some new entertainment, and made a plan for how to spend our days. In total she was home with me 4 out of the 5 days that week, so we had a lot of time to fill not leaving the house.

In addition to yoga and some melty-bead creations, we put together 6 Lego sets over the course of the week--I was seeing Legos in my dreams!

We also had a day where she made up a whole "school day" schedule--even down to 8 minute bathroom breaks!

But by the end of the week though, when the weather was warming up but school was still canceled because the busses wouldn't run--I lost my enthusiasm.

I just hit my breaking point of being positive, patient, and parenting 24/7. I could feel myself being cranky with everyone, even into the weekend. And really, if I'm honest, since Christmas I feel like I've been drifting into this more negative, frequently annoyed funk. I think many mothers about this time of winter can relate. The big let down after Christmas, cabin fever, lack of sunshine and fresh air, in need of a break from everyone--I was there with you all. And polar vortex 2019 almost pushed me over the edge.

I've mentioned before I started keeping a personal journal right after Drew was diagnosed. Just like these blogs, it helps me to sort things out in my head. But I'm finding they also serve a purpose when I look back on them to see where I've been. Many times I read old prayers, and have renewed faith as I can see how God perfectly answered almost every one. Being able to read the stories, daily antidotes, from the last three years and the thoughts I had as we held our son's hand through cancer treatment in 2016 is priceless.

This last week as I look through them, I'm taken back to those early days. It was 2 years ago that Drew was freed from this life and went to Heaven, but it was 3 years ago exactly that we were just starting this journey with pediatric cancer. The timing is so interesting, and makes it seem a never ending story. At the very same time of year that the journey came to an end, the memories and reminders start up again from one year earlier, when it all began. Pictures and my journals remind me where we started from during the winter of 2016.

So often I grieve now over how I'll never see Drew grow up, but if I look, I can see in these pictures how much he really did grow up in his last year. He looked like such a baby in these early photos from the first few Caringbridge updates:

He looks so different with all of his hair still. So innocent, seemingly untouched by the cancer yet.

In so many ways, Drew grew into something great during 2016. 

And through my journals, I can see how very much I grew too. Its interesting to read along as I was talking myself into, convincing myself of the truths that would shape our whole experience.

"It will be what I make it - what I decide it will be. Our attitude will determine a lot. Is this a sentence we face, or will we choose to simply keep living life but fight cancer along the way?...will I choose to enjoy each day I have with him, or pout, mourn and worry them away? May I choose, and the Lord help me, the former!"

"Will we ever be 'normal' again--probably not. Do we want to be normal? Taking for granted so much, not relying whole heartedly on God for every day we have on earth? Not living every moment appreciating the little things? Maybe not."

Reading these entries again, from such a profound time in our lives, really hit me this week. Especially with how my attitude has been lately in 2019. May I never drift back into being "normal" like I talked about those first weeks after diagnosis, not appreciating the little things. Not choosing to make the most out of each day and finding joy. No, we've come too far for that! If I managed by the grace of God to adopt that attitude when the going was so very tough, surely I can fight to maintain it during these days of relative ease.

It's so easy though, isn't it? The enemy just loves to point out and draw our attention to things that we don't like or wish were different. He whispers in our ears, encourages us to be disappointed, frustrated and annoyed at stupid things. With the same goal in mind that has been the goal since the beginning: to steal our joy. The joy that Jesus paid with his life for us to have, and have to its fullest. But we can't let him succeed now. If I found that amazing joy and peace as I cleaned up after my son, sick from chemo, I have no excuse to not hold on to it as we live our lives today.

It's all about our attitudes and our choices in the heart. I've wrote about this time and time again. My head knows this stuff by heart--I can recite the speeches I've given on the subject! But somehow I still need a reminder myself sometimes, a pep talk every now and then. This, is one of those weeks.

We can always find someone who has it easier, but we also can always find someone who has it worse. My mom always told me that, and life has shown me how true it is. Be thankful for what you have, and don't compare yourself to others. A discipline, a mindset, to constantly strive for. Because within it, we find the way to true joy.

And that goes both ways! In the positive, realizing how much we have to be grateful for over some. But in the negative as well. Being too conscious of how much worse we have it than others doesn't bring any joy either. If we are constantly trying to one-up another's struggles, to win a who-has-it-worse-game, the reality is, no one ends up winning.




As I spent more time than normal scrolling through social media last week during said polar vortex, it

struck me how many we-have-it-worse-then-you memes and posts were being shared. Northerners making fun of those who live further south struggling in the cold temps:

And sure, I got it. And laughed at some. Yes, it was 30 degrees or more colder up here than a few states south. Yes, the temps they were enduring was just our normal winter highs up here (or spring highs!). But does it help anyone to point that out? Does judgment and jokes warm them up any? Teach them how to cope in the cold? Did it help any of us up here feel any warmer in the bitter cold that we "won" the who-has-it-worse game?

While last week the ridicule was mostly light hearted, I saw how it totally relates to where my thoughts have been lately. How important attitude is in our experience of life. Feeling sorry for yourself, and demanding others acknowledge how rough life is for you, isn't what helps you feel better--or what causes anyone else to truly gain a different perspective for that matter.

And looking back this week, that's not what got me through what many would agree is one of the toughest things a parent will face. Having a "poor me" attitude, while the easiest one to fall into, doesn't serve anyone well. But what did, what myself of two years ago reminded me this week, was an attitude of being thankful. To not compare myself and situation to others, but to keep my head down, trust in God, and make the most of each day. I consciously decided, and I wrote it out on paper, to choose joy and not to let even a cancer diagnosis in my toddler son get in the way of living our lives to the fullest.

I was really convicted this week, in light of my current funk, to get back to that attitude God helped me find in 2016, and which has carried me ever since. As life looks pretty "normal" these day, let me not revert to a "normal" attitude of self-pity, annoyance, and general crankiness. Even after the 4th snow day in a week!😉


I say so many times, I write these mostly for myself, to sort out my feelings. To get the story straight in my head. Give myself that pep talk so I stay on track. And if someone can gain from it, if their perspective and attitude can be changed because of it, than what a wonderful result. God using this experience, this tragedy, to not only work His glory into my life, but into yours.

May you continue to choose joy with me, and not slide into "normal". That we all can make the most of each day, whether its in a hospital room with a child fighting cancer, or cooped up inside as a polar vortex is overhead, and everywhere in between!