Drew lived for 1,024 days. From April 1st, 2014, when he took his first breath, the sand in the hourglass of his life started to fall, the countdown had begun, until the day he'd take his last breath on January 19th, 2017.
Not quite three years doesn't seem like a short time necessarily, until it's all you have. He went from a helpless baby who smiled too much I thought (as it interrupted nursing and napping), to a little two year old boy that endured more than many of us even could grasp, with the same sweet smile on his face.
Looking back through photos and selecting these, I wonder how I've possibly gone over 1000 days without seeing that beautiful smile, and those captivating eyes. On the other hand, maybe 1,024 days doesn't seem like a particularly long amount of time, until its how long you've gone without seeing one of your children.
1,024 days is now a lifetime to us. The most precious days of our lives, the short chapter of our story which included our Drew.
Thinking about the day we'd pass this mark used to fill me with sadness when I'd think about it. I dreading the day, the process of getting further away from my time with Drew, it almost made me feel sick. Many of you who have followed along since his death know, I spent a lot of time writing, crying, and feeling in that first period of time after our great loss.
But you know what? That week, that day in November passed without the flood of emotion I had anticipated early on in my grief. In the past, my heart would have demanded to be heard. It wouldn't have rested until I had spent significant time and emotional energy acknowledging the turning point, the transition of time. But as it was, where I am today, that week a quiet cry in my big chair, next to the shelf where what's left of my baby now rests, is all my heart needed. And it somewhat surprised me.
But thinking about it since, I've realized it's not that my heart doesn't care anymore, or that it's completely healed. No, of course not. I think its more that as our family moves forward, we acknowledge our loss, we remember our Drew, in different ways now. It doesn't have to be a time consuming, emotional, intentional task of re-mourning Drew when anniversaries or turning points come, but it has become a more functional grieving, action-based acknowledgement of him through our lives.
And our lives seem to be full of action right now! I feel like when I have carved out time to write this year, I frequently talk about how busy we are. Which is true! But what I'm realizing is that the things that fill each day aren't things that distract us from our grief, but things that just express our love for Drew and the influence of him in our lives in a new way.
Like at my new job. I'm now working at the same school everyday over lunch/recess time--which keeps me on the go, and really makes me be deliberate with my time. Taking a step back, I can see that I bring Drew and the 1,024 days we had together with me in how I talk to and care for the students. Because of Drew I'm more patient, compassionate, and confident in my judgment. I see myself acknowledging him with my actions and attitude at school. when I stop to think about it. And those little boys at my school that I now know by name and who hug me when they come in, do more for this Mama's forever broken heart than they will ever know ❤
I've been very active with Warrior Wagon things this year too, which is a blessing. Now between the 3 hospitals, we have a lot to do each week! The program is really picking up steam and awareness here in the Chicago area since the fall, and I've felt it in my everyday life. There was a 5K that raised money for our Warriors, donations being made and needing picked up, and through my lunchroom job, God opened some doors to speak in a 5th grade classroom. I shared our family's story and what we do through Warrior Wagons to serve families like ours. And it brought me so much joy.
Molly's school is holding an item drive to fill our Warrior Wagons during this month, December. I've been fitting more classroom talks at the school into my days before or after work, again telling students our story and how it lead to Warrior Wagons.
It's meant so much to get out there and share our story again. To put on my Warrior Wagon gear and, with Drew's picture behind me, tell about how our family made it through treatment and the last 1,024 days without our Drew by serving others. Once again proving to me that instead of being overcome by emotion so often, we seem to be overcoming the emotional stage of grief. Instead, acknowledging our loss and it's influence in our lives through our actions, especially through our work with Warrior Wagons.
Each time we bring a Warrior Wagon to Downtown Chicago (as we did again recently) and meet a new family that we never would have met if it wasn't for Drew's life, we remember and honor him. And it's just as satisfying as a good cry ever was.
We are right in the heart of the Christmas season, and we've been busy lately preparing for the holiday in between work/school, Warrior Wagons business, and regular life tasks. I've said for several years now, Christmas was a lot more fun when I wasn't the Mom and had to get everything done! But Molly's been such a good help this year. I'm trusting her with more and more tasks, and she's eager to be involved.
In the last 1,024 days we've celebrated two Christmases without our Drew. And during each of those Christmas seasons the grief and longing to be with both of my babies has brought me to my knees. So far this year though, I've been making my way through without a wave of grief knocking me down.
Although tears have slowly trickled down my cheeks some afternoons as I prep dinner, alone, listening to Christmas music. My heart has ached as I Christmas shop for my little girl, and pass by all the little boy toys, wishing I had my little boy to shop for. Wondering what he'd even be into now, as the five and half year old he would be.
And as I dress for Molly's school Christmas program, with my door shut, I let some tears go, but tried not to mess up my makeup before we headed out, wishing that I'd have gotten the chance to see Drew up on stage.
I know that it's in all these quiet moments, I'm acknowledging our loss, grieving for the son that I had but God has taken back, and it's okay that it's not a huge emotional ordeal. It doesn't mean that I love him any less, or don't miss him as much. My heart is able to, here and there, let out some of the pain it has learned to carry each of the last 1,024 days.
God has been with me each of those days, just as He was with us each of the 1,024 days of Drew's life, and the ones before it. His strength, wisdom and love has been what has carried us, what people see in us, and what will be with us as we live the next 1,024 days, and the next, and the next. Until the day comes that He bring us Home too.
That's what He's reminded me in those quiet moments when I grieve this Christmas. The reason we celebrate this December isn't just in thanksgiving of our many blessings, or in the fellowship with those we love, but the HOPE that was born 2,000 years ago. The reason we shouldn't count the days that have passed since Drew died, but instead count them as days less we have to wait until we see him again.
What have you done in the last 1,024 days? What will you do in the next? Less then 3 years is enough time to make an impact on the world, I've seen it in person. Who's life are you influencing for the better? How will you make the world a better place for others, not just yourself? Something to think about, something that challenges me in my life. How many of Drew's lifetimes will fit into mine, and how will I use each one with matched intensity to his? My Drew set the bar pretty high!
And maybe in each one I won't be able to keep his pace. But I'll try as hard as I can, and at least keep the smile, have the joy, that he had in each of his 1,024 days.
There may be times we break down still this season. This third Christmas without our Drew may prove too much for just a quiet cry. Seeing my family of three doing Christmas together, wishing we were that family of four again, will bring sadness right along with the joy. But we'll balance the two as best we can. Not allowing the sadness to cancel out the joy, yet not denying the sorrow we feel either. A delicate balance I've been practicing in the last 1,024 days.
So there we have it. Yes, we've been busy this year. 2019 was not a quiet, low-key year by any means. It had less tears, not as much writing, but more doing. Which just means our grief is shifting, not necessarily lessening. We've made it through the turning point of having as much life after Drew's than with it. And that's okay, we're just one lifetime closer to being together again.
Merry Christmas everyone. May peace and Hope be as much a part of your Christmas as all the other emotions we experience during this season. Much love, from the Becker family to yours!
