Here We Go Again...

We have news to share--our family will be on the move again! This time to the beautiful state of Colorado. Josh was offered a great opportunity within his company, Hormel Foods, at another subsidiary--Justin's Nut Butters.

It will be a change from the meatballs, sausage links, and Italian beef we've been enjoying from Fontanini, but we love peanut butter too 😉

He will begin as the operations director sometime in the next couple of months. I am so proud and excited for him! Josh is a smart, hard working man that I am thankful to have as my partner in this life. I'm grateful that his value is recognized in his company as well!

We knew the Chicago area wouldn't be our forever home, but we certainly are beginning the relocation process a lot sooner than we thought we would. With that said, we are all excited about this next adventure. Molly was on board from the start--excited at the idea of a new house and living in Colorado. Which is such a gift! She continues to show her bravery and strength, making so many transitions in our lives significantly easier by her positive attitude.

We keep being told how incredible living in Colorado will be--the scenery, the weather, the lifestyle--we're excited to see for ourselves! We have family and friends in the Colorado area already, which helps with the idea of moving 1,000 miles away. Molly is currently an only grandchild on both sides, so to have cousins around will be a welcome change, for all of us!

We will house hunting and visiting the area soon, which I'm sure will give us a little better picture of what this next chapter will bring. It's hard to imagine just looking at pictures and drawing on memories from visiting family! We are looking forward to exploring the area together--looking at houses and seeing communities as a family. More will come for sure on what this next part of our story will look like I'm sure!

But as with almost every big event or transition in life, there is sadness mixed in with the excitement too. We've only been in the Chicago area a short time, but we all have really enjoyed our time here. In a little less than 18 months, Chicago and it's charm have won us over. The city skyline always gets me as it takes shape in front of you as you drive toward the city.

Many of you know how excited I get about food, and this city has a lot to offer!  The pizza, and hot dogs; ice cream and popcorn! We've enjoyed all the treats.

    

       

And the people, like every community, have been the best part. From the beginning when the guy behind us picked up our bill at Dunkin Donuts after I forgot my wallet at home, we've been so blessed by the friendliness and kindness shown to us. We've really made some meaningful connections in our community--with classmates, neighbors, co-workers, gym buddies, ladies in my church group, and so many others.

Its hard to say goodbye so soon, as we just were getting comfortable again. Even though we have experience missing people yet finding joy, we'd rather not keep having to do it! We will miss so many! But, as Molly reminds me, we won't lose them as friends, we'll just add more from Colorado into our lives.

And I was only a few months into my full-time gig at the school being a Lunchroom/Recess Supervisor! I was just getting the hang of it, learning names of the kids, and feeling like I was making a difference. It's hard to walk away, feeling like I had more to give. But I know that God had me right where He wanted me for just the time He wanted me there. Saying goodbye to the students and my co-workers was harder than I expected, and I already miss their sweet faces and comradery! But I put my radio on the charger, and left with the notes and gifts I received on my last day knowing that someday, I'll get to see what happened to each of these students. And how I may have been even the tiniest part of their journey.

We've not only learned a new city and grown closer to new friends since October of 2018--we've learned a lot about ourselves and grown even closer to each other too. Moving is a big deal within a family. I found it to cause you to rely on each other more, and to trust each other in new situations. It leads you to develop a deeper connection with each other as you experience new things together. It also reveals things about each other, or brings to the surface things that may have been too easily put aside in a more familiar and comfortable setting. 

Good and difficult, our first move in 10 years have served to make us stronger together--ready for the next move! Us Beckers are at our best when we're facing a challenge together, and I'm feeling that strength as we prepare for what lies ahead.

What will happen to Warrior Wagons in Chicago? That was one of my first concerns when Josh came home with news of this opportunity. We have just gotten things going, and are really seeing the community come together to support the program at Lurie. I don't want to see it fade away! But, God was way ahead of us, as usual.

Two of our closest friends in the community have volunteered to keep Warrior Wagons going as Coordinators. And now with procedures and systems in place that keep things running smoothly without our physical presence at two other branches, we know it can be done here. As we share news of our move, many more have followed suit, expressing interest in being on our team here in the Chicago area. What a relief, and blessing to see God taking this from our hands, and setting it into others that care as much about our organization and our Warriors as we do!

There are a lot of emotions wrapped up in Warrior Wagons.  It's more than just a non-profit for us, but a living memorial to our son.  It's our tribute to Drew, and we are so, so thankful to see his legacy be brought into and grow in new communities. Passing on all the supplies into new hands, seeing all the Warrior Wagons lined up, I welled up with gratitude, with satisfaction, with awe at the beautiful way our prayers are being answered by God that Drew's life won't be forgotten. That more and more people will feel the impact of his short life.

And, unfortunately, we know there are children battling cancer all over the county.  Maybe this is another opportunity to serve a new set of Warriors, and share our story with another community! We are hopeful and excited to see how this move could serve to grow Warrior Wagon's reach even further.  And we love that it'll keep us connected, give us reason, to come back to each place that we've left a piece of our heart in Warrior Wagons ❤




So while I was initially kind of startled by the idea of moving again so soon, I really do see all of this coming together, and know that this is God's next chapter for our family. It's a familiar feeling of excitement and hope, but also reluctance and sadness about the good byes. I can feel myself being asked to trust and rely on Him each step of the way, which is familiar but never easy.

But I know He'll work all things out for our good. That He'll finish the works He's began in us, and will never abandon us on a road we chose to walk with Him down. I've learned that God doesn't keep you where you're comfortable. If you are truly willing to be used, He'll take you right where you'll be most useful--and it's a heck of a ride if you're up for it!

And you know? We've made the most of our time here. We haven't taken for granted the opportunities available to us. We made sure we visited family we were closer to. We utilized the two major airports to visit friends and family. We hosted families and holidays while we have the space. We've gone out and DONE more things than we used to. We've seen more things, had more experiences, and were intentional with our time while here in the Chicago area.

We took the train into the city, rode in a water taxi through the river, visited both Zoos, enjoyed a beach day on the lake during the summer, saw the City at Christmas time, took Warrior Wagons to new heights, ice skated on the Ribbon and played in the Maggie Daily Park downtown among so many other things...

Making the most of each day, being thankful for the opportunities you have, and seeking joy in everyday life are things that 2016 and our journey with Drew taught us. And what this attitude, this way of approaching life has given us, once again, is no regrets. Sure there's more things we'd like to do, places we'd like to visit if we had more time, but we're satisfied with all we've accomplished and done in the last 18 months. And just like at the end of our time with Drew, it makes saying "see you later" Chicago, and moving forward to Colorado, a whole lot easier...

Glory Day

Last Sunday, January 19th, marked three years since our Drew was set free. Free from the body that caused him so much trouble in his short life. Free from feeling sick, from being sore, from fevers and from fatigue. Free from hospital rooms, from clinic appointments, from scans and from procedures. Free from feeding tubes, and from IV lines. Free from this fallen, unfair world.

It has been three years since I looked out the window from his hospital room, through the glass walls of the hallways across the court yard, wondering how people could just carry on with life, as my baby lay dying beside me. Three years ago that I sat behind his head as he lay sideways in the hospital bed like he always did, because I couldn't stand to look at his sweet little swollen face as his vitals dropped. When his breathing finally ended, there was a calm, a hush in the room. He was surrounded by his loving parents and his beloved stuffies as he was born in to Heaven, three years ago last Sunday.

We have been talking at home about Drew's day coming up. And a week before, Molly asked what we were talking about. It wasn't his birthday, she pointed out. No, it's the day he died I explained, I wasn't sure what to call it.

"I think it should be called Drew's Glory Day, because it was the day he got his Glory in Heaven."

I love that Molly girl, I think I'll start calling it that too ❤


You all have seen what has happened since Drew's Glory Day, three years ago. We have done our best to keep the promises we made to him. Which were to always carry his memory with us, yet move forward with his sister as a family. To really LIVE our life to the fullest, not letting cancer take any more from us. To keep our attitude of thankfulness, and trust in the Lord. And to pass on all the kindness and generosity shown to us to those who would follow.

And as I say all that, I realize, we spent the three year anniversary of his death doing each of those things.

It happened that we had a Warrior Wagon to bring into the city for a new family at Lurie. I say happened, but I know God had this timed out perfectly, even sending a snow storm to ensure we'd take the wagon on Sunday to the family instead of Saturday like we had planned.

I can't think of a better way to honor his memory on the day he died then to gift another two year old boy and his family just beginning their journey with a Warrior Wagon, one of Drew's Wagons.

To me, each Warrior Wagon is a real, physical sign that Drew's life made a difference. That all he went through, all 1024 days of his life, resulted in something beside just a sad story. It is a privilege and an honor to carry on this legacy, to run this living memorial to our son every day of the year, not just this one. And as I watched that father pull the Warrior Wagon into the elevator to take up to his son, I felt such a peace and satisfaction that we are doing just what we are suppose to be doing, especially on that special day.

Then we walked across the street to the American Girl Doll store on Michigan Avenue. Molly had on her Christmas/Birthday list a *real* American Girl doll, not another brand's version. Being the practical folks many know we are, we gifted Molly the money for half of the doll at her birthday and told her like last year's Lego set, she could earn the other half by saving her money from her paid chores, and by picking up extras. We hoped to teach her the value of $100, and of working for something you really want.

Well she earned the last $2 by the weekend, so we told her when we were downtown we'd take her to finally get her doll. She was so excited, dressed and ready to go at 7:30AM!

The joy on her face as we entered the store, as she played with the display dolls, and took advantage of photo ops lifted our somber spirits after the Warrior Wagon drop off.

She so carefully chose the exact doll she wanted, down to the eye brow shape. It was such a delight to see her realize all her hard work over the last month. It was a fun morning in the city, we are so thankful to have the opportunity to experience Chicago!

Molly brushed the doll's hair on the way home, and buckle her up next to her in the back seat. She decided to name the doll Mary. It was a day I know we'll all remember for a long time. We added a new memory to our life as the family of three we are today. It is us, moving forward, and making the most of each day--even January 19th. Showing that cancer and it's temporary victory hold no power over us!

After we had our nice time in the city, we were home by lunch. Us Beckers are efficient 😉 Josh didn't want to miss the NFL playoff games, and Molly was anxious to introduce her new doll to her others.

I settled in preparing envelopes for our Warrior Wagon newsletter, and kept laundry going, among other house work jobs.

While I sat at the dining room table stamping envelopes I thought somewhat disappointedly, now this feels like any other Sunday afternoon. But, I thought, we all were happy, doing our usual weekend things.

The more I thought about it, it wasn't that long ago that a "normal" Sunday afternoon was something that I longed for. I had taken for granted "normal" before cancer barged into our lives, as many of us do, and remember when I could only hope I'd experience it again. It occurred to me that not even three years ago, I would have loved to have a normal Sunday afternoon at home with my family, getting caught up on my to-do list.

When Drew died we had just been through a year of constant hospital stays, doctor appointments, weekly lab draws, I hardly could remember what "normal" felt like. Even on the rare days we were all home together the medical care we had to provide for Drew was far from normal. Most families do not give injections to their two year olds while they watch Wheel of Fortune, or take temperatures every time they turn around crossing their flingers that it isn't over 100.3°. Filling feeding bags and flushing central lines daily is far from routine in any other house, but become that way in a family that is on a journey with pediatric cancer. I know many moms who may be reading this that know all too well just what I mean.

Three years ago as I watched my son's life end, I knew I was watching my life as I knew it end too. I remember the devastating realization that things would never be the same again. Not only for our family and our circumstances, but that I would never be the same again. What was going to be our new normal?

The first few weeks and months at home without our Drew felt like we were in a fog. A haze of questioning reality. A nearly constant battle between my heart that was still looking for him in his seat in my rear view mirror, or thinking it heard him crying out in the middle of the night, and my head that knew better. That understood he was never coming back. I know I wondered if it would ever feel normal again during that difficult period too...

So actually, maybe having a normal Sunday afternoon on Drew's Glory Day was really something to celebrate too I decided. Another way we kept our promises to Drew, and continue to show that cancer certainly did not win on January 19th, 2017.

So there it is, another year down, one more row done. One year closer to the big reunion. We've made it this far, we will keep marching on through His power and with His guidance!

I want to also say thank you to everyone who reached out to us over the last couple of weeks. It really means more than you know to have people remember. That someone cares and acknowledges our grief. Personal messages and texts, such heartfelt comments on my personal Facebook page/posts and on our Warrior Wagons post really do encourage us.

It's was wonderful to know that two different mass services were offered in Drew's memory on Sunday. We gratefully received cards and meaningful gifts in the mail, and a fun edible arrangement delivery too!

Thank you to so many of you that are still there for us. That follow this blog, even if sometimes it makes you cry. I am always thankful for the kind words and encouragement you comment and message me with.

Happy Glory Day, my sweet little boy. I hope how your family spent the day made you smile. We haven't broken our promises we made to you on that last day we were together. Your legacy lives on, we are making new memories as a family, and we have normal days again. We're okay, and we know that you are even more than okay. Full of your Glory, waiting for us to join you 😊

1,024 Days

There was a day in early November, when more time had passed since Drew's death, then the amount of time he was alive. I've been anticipating the day since I realized early on in my grief how relatively soon it would come. His life was so short, and we have so much left of our own.  Our time with Drew would eventually be a small percentage of our family's life as a whole, and it broke my heart.

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!

As We Remember Him

Its funny how often we tell ourselves things will slow down "when..." When baseball season is over, once the kids get a little older, after the holidays are through.  But sometimes, it just doesn't slow down, the business only shifts. Changes direction, but still has you going from one thing to the next. This year has gone that way for us. I thought once our over-booked summer was over, things would settle down.  But they really haven't.

September turned out to be a busy month. In addition to settling into school and visiting my Aunt in upstate Michigan, we also held our month-long Warrior Wagons funding drive. Since our operation is spread over 2 states now, this year we thought outside the box.  We decided to try a remote fundraiser of sorts, more of a funding drive than a specific fundraiser. We asked our community to "Pull Together for Warrior Wagons" and team up with friends, family members, a business they own, or their work group to make a collective donation to Warrior Wagons that would help fund as many Warrior Wagons as we could.

Honestly, we weren't sure what to expect with this concept.  Would people be willing to take the extra step of coordinating a group contribution instead of coming to an event?  Well, the answer was a resounding "yes". And then God brought forward a group who was willing to put on an actual event in Rochester for anyone who still wanted that experience too!

September 28th we traveled back to Minnesota for the event that the Rochester Group of Thrivent Financial hosted, and to also attend a separate fundraiser one of our Warrior families was hosting, selflessly giving the proceeds to a handful of charities serving the local childhood cancer community, which included ours.

It was such a great day, without anything to do with dollars raised.  To have our whole Warrior Wagon team together, from all three of our branches was so great!  And to meet and spend some time with Warrior families, to chat with fellow cancer moms that I'd exchanged messages on Facebook with, but never met in person was worth the whole trip. There's a special bond among other cancer families. You feel an instant connection with people who have been through the same horrors you have. It's been a long time since I've felt that sense of belonging, and it was heartwarming.

Our Pulling Together campaign did just what we'd hoped it would: Unite people in the name of doing good. Get new people talking about Warrior Wagons and what we're doing.  And yes, bring in funding for more Warrior Wagons!  As we continued to receive donations in the first week in October, and tallies from events were finalized, we were amazing at our grand total. Just over $21,000! Wow. Amazing.  Enough funds for over 80 Warriors to receive a Warrior Wagon. God continues to provide for this project.



Even in the midst of the all of that, I somehow felt a nudge to explore what more I could personally do right here in our new community, and began to look into jobs at Molly's school.  I was about to start subbing in Austin before we moved, and I decided maybe I'd start there and see what part-time jobs might be available that would work with our family's schedule.  Lunchroom Supervisor came up.  It seemed like a perfect fit--only 2.75 hours a day from about 11-2, supervising lunch and recess.  I'd still have a little time before and after to get my work done at home and with Warrior Wagons and be home to get Molly on the bus and there when she got off.

Everything came together quickly, and I've been subbing for this position district-wide a few days a week since mid September. So far, I'm really enjoying it!

The time goes really fast, opening ketchup packets and milk cartons isn't so bad, and the students overall have been so delightful. Kids really do say the darndest things! I need to keep a notebook in my car, to write down funny quotes and interesting stories when I leave the schools. It seems each day there's something noteworthy that happened or was said.

Like one of the first days.  I was standing in the lunchroom, looking around at the kids.  Thinking, look at me, I'm doing this!  I was a little nervous about how I'd feel in a room full of kids, especially kindergarten--the age Drew would be.  I'm not feeling upset at all, I thought to myself.  But then I did start thinking about Drew, how big he'd be, what he'd be doing in a lunchroom-- would he be like that boy that can hardly sit still?  Or that one over there, sitting quietly eating his lunch.  That ache in my heart starting up again...But, I thought, I can still to do this!  Maybe it's okay to think about him, and feel a little sad, but still enjoy this job too.  It's like my motto in life, right?

Just as I was having this internal discussion, a little girl's hand shot up.  Shaking my head a little to snap out of it, I came over to her.  "Can you read this note to me?" she asked. I looked down at her note from Mom and it said, "Don't let anyone take away your shine!"  Wow, goosebumps.  For those of you who have been following this page, you know that's almost exactly the phrase a kind nurse said to Drew, and then to me, in one of our last visits to surgery.  I closed a commencement speech with that line the spring after Drew died. (speech can be found HERE)

What a perfectly timed, meaningful note.  A note from this girl's mother to her daughter, but it seemed to also be from my Father to His needing-reassurance daughter. Maybe from a heavenly son to his feeling-shaky mother? Someday I may find out...I fought tears as I continued on to more hands in the air asking me to open string cheeses and to be excused to the bathroom.  But I had a renewed confidence.  God and our loved ones really are with us, in the everyday places like elementary lunchrooms, and right within our thoughts...



So that brings us to the middle of October.  How is that possible? In addition to me starting this new job, Molly's started swimming again two nights a week at Stroke School.  She loves it!  But it adds one more thing to our week. As a family we still really enjoy our quiet evenings, but we're managing just one after school activity ;)

Yes, fall is in full swing, and with it, emotions have run high at times. The season itself is a difficult one for us (I've wrote about this season in years past, click HERE or THERE). But this fall is even more significant. This would have been the fall that Drew would have started school, and I still haven't taken the time to write about that.  Today's the day I guess!

I made it through Molly starting school in August without too big of a wave of grief crashing in.  Drew was never here, so somehow him not getting on the bus with Molly didn't have as much of a sting as I thought it would.

But when all of the kids in Austin went back to school the day after labor day, that was the day the wave crashed in. These were the kids I thought would be Drew's classmates. The school and classrooms I had pictured him attending, before I knew he'd never make it there. The Facebook Timehop photos of Molly getting on the kindergarten bus that same day was a cruel reminder of what could have been. My heart wishing I would have gotten the chance to see Drew do the same...

As I picked up my phone that day to swipe through the finite images I have of my boy, I came across this one of him in his backpack---not filled with crayons and notebooks, but a feeding pump and bag of formula. It was the day we went home after our initial 28 day hospital stay. Kind of the "first day" of the rest of his life.  The last of his life.  Look at how happy he looks...amazing in an of itself after what he'd already been through:

And not too far from Molly's look on her first day.  No, I didn't get to see my Drew start school.  He didn't get to ride on a school bus and wave to me out the window, but he got to ride in push cars with his IV pole beside him down the halls of St. Mary's, waving and blowing kisses to his favorite nurses.

He didn't get to finger paint with his friends, but with his child life specialist friends.

He may not have programs, or performances where I'd get see him up on stage and have that #ProudMom moment, but I remember feeling so deeply proud of my son many, many times in his last year.  As he laid perfectly still for CT scans.

As I watched him so gently, so compassionately, play with other kids in the hospital play room.  As he cooperated with nurses as they cleaned him up after getting sick all over himself, or changed his dressing, and he'd said thank you to them. And of course as he labored through too many tough days during treatment.

My baby may never have went to school the way other kids get to.  But he certainly got an education in real life. In medical procedures and medications.  In the meaning of persevering and enduring.

And he taught US even more.  About real life and persevering and enduring.  But also about living in the moment, choosing joy, and making the most of each day.  Lessons that will last a lifetime.

The season is really changing. Outside as the leaves are turning, and the crisp air has made its way here. Inside Becker house, the season is changing too. Next month we'll have gone as long without Drew as we had him with us. Molly is getting so big and independent, we really are entering a new stage of parenting with her. Add in me starting to work outside the home again, and we are definitely in new territory.

I'm getting further along on my grief journey as well, entering a new season there perhaps. Maybe in this stage I don't require as much contemplation and going over things in my mind, as notice I'm not taking the time to write nearly as often. Maybe I'm strong enough to go out and DO again, after I've already taken time to reflect and make as much peace in my heart as there can be. 

But even though the frequency of times I take a break, examine my heart and sort things out, I'm so thankful that when I do, I have such a supportive and encouraging community behind me here--old and new members :)

Seasons changing are always hard for me. But Drew is a part of it all. I can feel him, somehow, some way.

A poem I came across in a grief book I picked up recently perfectly summed up so much in our lives and hearts over the last 6 months:

"At the rising sun and at its going down; We remember them.

At the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter; We remember them.
At the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring; We remember them.
At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer; We remember them.
At the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of the autumn; We remember them.
At the beginning of the year and when it ends; We remember them.

As long as we live, they too will live, for they are now a part of us as We remember them.

When we are weary and in need of strength; We remember them.
When we are lost and sick at heart; We remember them.
When we have decisions that are difficult to make; We remember them.
When we have joy we crave to share; We remember them.
When we have achievements that are based on theirs; We remember them.
For as long as we live, they too will live, for they are now a part of us as, We remember them. "

We remember Drew.

In each ordinary day, and in each season, we remember Drew.

In the happy moments, and in the missed moments, we bring him in and he is with us, as we remember Drew.

As we achieve so much in his name, because DREW achieved so much, we remember him.

As we figure out life in this new season, Drew is with us, as we remember him.

You are a part of us, as long as we live, as we remember you, our Drew❤