Drew's Story - under construction

Thursday, April 22, 2021

And also...

 A set of pictures came up in my Facebook memories this week. Molly and Drew, reading a book together, my caption explaining that after breakfast, I found them like this in Molly's room. 

The joy, the love, between big sister and little brother jumped right out of the photos and into my heart. 

  

Those feelings coming from the photos, the memory of that morning, woke my heart up from it's peaceful rest lately. Quickly though, I felt the familiar heartache I seem to have gotten a break from. 

If only I could jump back there, to that moment. What I wouldn't give for just one more morning, with my two babies, having breakfast and reading together.  Just us, together, filling rooms with love and joy. 

As I went on with my day, my mind kept going back to those photos, those moments.  I opened up the photos again, and studied the things in the background--Molly's alarm clock on her nightstand, the bin of books under it.  

                                                   

Those clocks--they managed our life back that!  Telling them (Drew too!) when it was okay to be up for the day, or when naptime was over. 

Those books in bin, I remember readying when my babies still fit in my lap. When one wasn't too big or too old, and the other was still alive... 


Thinking about those photos as the tears fell, I decided it's not *just* that I miss my Drew (although that's enough to cry about for a lifetime).  No, I also look at those photos and the others and my heart longs for that chapter, that season of my life.  An "average" mother of two small kids, just trying to get through the day in a town I loved, with friends and activities I enjoyed.

 In these photos, I study not just the face of the son that I haven't seen for over 4 years, but also the face of my dear little Molly.  Only four years old, just a baby herself. 

I know all she had to deal with that year must have been so overwhelming, but she hardly ever showed it.  Poor sweet girl, I just want jump back into these photos and hold you, tell you how much you are loved and not taken for granted...


I sit here, closing my eyes, and I am right back at 1405 10th Street NW, in the wonderful community of Austin, Minnesota.

 I know just who I'd see each place I'd go.  I can visualize the walk we used to take most days after Josh got home from work, both of us pushing a stroller.  I remember just what activities, what events, would be coming up to get excited about in each season in our Minnesota town.  

Austin will always hold a special place in our hearts, and is where I consider home. And this week, maybe I feel a little homesick. 


But wait, I'm happy here in Colorado!  Really, we all are. I would think it's kind of obvious. We love the weather, the scenery, the outdoor activities. We are finally getting connected with people in this community following the pandemic restrictions in place when we moved here almost a year ago. At church, at the gym, in our neighborhood--I am excited, hopeful, about the new activities we are participating in and the friendships we are making.

If I'm missing a season from the past, grieving for a place and time I'll never get back, does that mean I'm not happy in the present? No, I've learned that I can be both.  Longing for what was and also excited about what is.

I have new gym instructors and buddies that I look forward to seeing at each class, but they don't take the place of my peeps in Chicago or Minnesota, they just add to the group.

The CBS class I've been a part of here in Colorado have been so wonderful. I can love them all, and also love all the other women I've been blessed to know through CBS in the past.

I can welcome new friendships and also keep my old friendships going strong that I've had for years.  In fact, this whole "and also" theme, was shared with me by a new friend here!  Giving me another way to say what I've been writing about for years now.  I can be two things at once, and they both are just as real and true.

The longing in my heart for that little girl in the photos, being the best big sister to her sick little brother, is another "and also". I can miss my little Molly, and also really be relishing my big Molly today!  

How old she looks lately almost takes my breath away. 

She's grown up a lot in the last year I think. And it's an absolute joy, I am loving this older kid stage! Seeing her mature not just physically, but emotionally is such an amazing process. She surprises me and makes me proud almost every day with her insights, strength, and intelligence.

But it's okay that at the same time, my heart yearns to have an afternoon with 4 year old Molly again...


Our family of 3 has grown even closer through the pandemic and our moves in the last 2 years.  It hasn't always been pretty, but now we share family jokes, have weekly traditions, and developed a real knowledge and enjoyment of each other, and it feels so good.


But with that said, my heart still aches for the one not here.  My head wonders how different it would be with Drewy back in the mix.  It kills me I'll have to wait a lifetime to find out... 

Again, I can be in love with our family right now, and also grieve for the one that was only together for less than 3 years.

 

Yes, I know it's all true and genuine. I can cherish the the different aspects of this season of my life and the things about this new community that are pretty neat, and also miss past communities I've lived in, and past seasons of my life--without taking away from either one.


Our work with Warrior Wagons is another area I see this "and also" quite often. 

Drew's little red wagons keep me busy these days!  Between managing our 3 busy branches, keeping up our social media, fielding the amazing donations we are blessed to receive from various groups, and virtual presentations I've been excited to give--I have full days! 

I can feel the momentum building behind our organization.  New possibilities for growth, gaining support and exposure, and making plans to do some things better.  It's all pretty exciting! 

As things keep falling into our laps, I continue to be in awe of God's provision.  How He truly does have a plan for everything--including Warrior Wagons.  Watching it unfold, being a part of the movement, is so fulfilling.  Seeing good come from the tragedy, beauty come from the ashes, is so encouraging, satisfying, and healing.

But as I pass Drew's urn and folded blanket as I file donation stubs--reality hits me too. 

 Oh, my heart knows I'd give it all up in a moment just to have another moment with my Drew. I would walk away from it all, if no other family had to experience the overwhelming loss of a child. I wish we didn't have to do what we're doing, I wish no family had to come behind us on that difficult road and need a Warrior Wagon.  

My satisfied smile turns, as a tear falls down my face. What an awful, tragic world it is that innocent children get cancer and die every day. This isn't how it's suppose to be.

Once again, it's all valid and genuine. I can be encouraged and excited about all that's happening with Warrior Wagons, and also be totally heartbroken by the "why" behind it all. 


I haven't been writing a lot this spring--mostly because our family has been in and out a lot!  We went back to Iowa for St Patrick's Day weekend in Emmetsburg, and then again for Easter in Ames two weeks later. It was a lot of driving, but worth it for the wonderful time with family.  


We took our time coming back during Molly's spring break week and visited the Omaha Zoo together!  I wasn't the best day--rainy and 44 degrees--but we still had a great time.

 

I was able to help my sister-in-law celebrate her 40th birthday with her friends in Kansas City over a long weekend most recently, which was so fun!

It's been a busy, but fun spring. 

And in the middle of all this, on April 1st, we celebrated the day our Drew was born. 


We didn't have an extravagant celebration, didn't make the biggest deal of it this year.  But our current family of 3 celebrated the 4th member not with us by having cupcakes and ice cream. Which this year, felt just right.

So once again, in giving myself permission to be sad and also happy, I feel so much better. Not guilty or confused, ashamed or fake, but at peace. Being aware of and sensitive to the whole host of genuine feelings found in my heart.  

When I sit down to write lately, it feels like the same things, themes, keep coming out.  I've said since the beginning I write these for myself as much as for anyone else.  This is a place where I sort out my feelings and share the reality of losing a child, or at least what it looks like in our lives. So maybe the reality lately is that grief is an ongoing, repetitive process. 

If my stories or themes seem to repeat themselves, its because I often have to remind myself the truths I've learned. Give myself the same pep talks as I need them. Because it's not like one day you just decide that "and also" really is true, and then you never have to revisit it again--but you need to remind yourself of it on a regular basis.

Maybe further down the road, after a few more years, I won't need as many reminders.  I will have gotten the messages and themes and truths engrained in my head so that I won't need to keep telling myself the same things over and over.  

But for now, every so often, I still have to re-coach myself on the things I know to be true.  And this week, that it's okay to be happy and move forward in life and also grieve for what was.