Life has a way of showing us that we are not in control

Life has a way of showing us that we are NOT in control. Not even close. Just when we think we are climbing our way out of dark places, something happens that reminds us to not get too comfortable with life as we think it should go. You know, John Lennon said it best in the song Beautiful Boy, "Life is what happens to you when you are busy making other plans." a phrase he borrowed from Allen Saunders in a Reader's Digest article penned in January 1957. Life has a way of showing us that we are NOT in control. Yesterday, I randomly wrote the word GRIEF on a blank piece of notebook paper. Just one word. That word. Grief.

It seems as though this grief I've been experiencing is not going anywhere anytime soon. I've been doing a lot of reading on the topic of grief. One thing I've come to understand is that where there was the loss of someone significant, as long as that person remains significant in our lives, though no longer here, that grief remains. I attribute that to the reason I've never really 'gotten over' the loss of my grandmother. Losing Billy kicked my grief into hyperdrive. I'm almost absolutely certain that I will live with my grief for the rest of my life. 

Life has a way of showing us that we are NOT in control. Not even close. Just when we think we are climbing our way out of dark places, something happens that reminds us to not get too comfortable with life as we think it should go. Yesterday, I received word that a 22 year old young lady, one I've known for the better part of 10 plus years - as a friend of my youngest daughter AND as a player on the basketball team I was the assistant coach for - was in the midst of a major medical situation, one that has her fighting for her life. Receiving that news sent my emotions into a tailspin. The grief I've been feeling found it's way right back to the forefront of my head and heart. Grief, I've found, is a lot like waves in an ocean. Sometimes that grief comes in little skipper waves, the ones that just ripple up on the shore, unassumingly. Sometimes that grief comes in crashing waves, the ones that hit you hard, knocking you down and tossing you around the surf like a ragdoll. I'm learning how to manage each wave that comes my way.

Today, I'm feeling a different grief. It's a grief for the family of my dear sweet Mady. My heart truly aches for them right now, and in a weird way, it is taking all the focus off of my own, personal heartache and grief. For the past 24+ hours, I've not focused on the fact that yesterday was Tuesday and my grief surfaces hard on Tuesdays. Yesterday, my grief wasn't my own. It was a grief focused on Mady and the entire Bush family. I know my own grief is there. I remember my loss(es) all too well. It will NEVER go away, but in this instance, I have been able to channel it a bit.

I've rallied my Prayer Warriors, my friends on Facebook who always answer my rally cry for prayers without hesitation. There is an army of people praying hard for Mady Bush right now. If ever there was a need for a miracle, now is it.

I believe in miracles....and I am praying hard for one right now. If you feel so inclined, please pray for one, too.

Springsteen to the rescue - again!

My goodness did I wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. In fact, I didn't even wake up on MY side of MY bed. I woke up in the guest bedroom after being booted from my bed by the dogs. Gus normally sleeps in bed with us, but Penny, well, she's just too large to sleep on the bed (and I know many people will say they don't belong on our bed to begin with, but HUSH....my house, my rules). When my day actually started, I was out of sorts and in a pissy mood, for lack of a better term, just ask my husband.

I left late for work and as I entered the highway, my phone rang. It was my supervisor. Normally, I'm well on my way by the time she had called, but today, NOPE. Wasn't a huge deal, but enough to throw off my already crapshoot of a morning. Pulled into the parking lot at the time I'm supposed to be in my classroom and I truly hate feeling rushed. My own fault today, I get that.

An email regarding the phone system at work set me off on a vocal tirade, to which a coworker commented about my mood first thing. Wake up call. As I sat here looking at my computer screen that had all my favorite Sirius channels listed, I gazed through the listing and immediately saw that Thunder Road was playing on E Street Radio. That's it. I'm listening to Channel 20 because if ANYONE can relate to my moods, it's Springsteen. And the best part is, he doesn't even know it!!!!

Throughout my life....well, since I was in the 4th grade and a mere girl of 10 years old....Bruce Springsteen has spoken to me. Ok, HE hasn't actually spoken to me, but his lyrics have. It was hearing Thunder Road for the first time that captivated me with this man who would later become the one entity that could always get me through the rough times in my life. Thunder Road is the one song that has always given me hope in trying times, sunshine on my grey sky days, a smile when the corners of my mouth want to dip into a frown.

I wasn't sure how my "I'm listening to nothing but Springsteen today" would go over with my coworkers, but truth be told, I didn't really care. Much like the 'my house my rules' attitude I have, it's kind of like a 'my Sirius my computer my music choice' attitude as well! No apologies here. It is a good thing my aide enjoys the music of Springsteen, too!

So, here I sit, listening to an episode of Be The Boss on E Street Radio, smiling through someone's song choices and listening to how Springsteen has affected their lives as well. It's a weird thing, how the music of one man can do that; can bring people together and make us realize that we are not alone in our struggles, happiness, and love for all things Springsteen. I reflect on the many concerts I've been to, the time I was the Boss on E Street Radio, the front row experience, the back to back night experience, and the many times his music has gotten me through a rough time.

Today, it is 4 months since losing Billy. I know that's weighing heavily on my heart and mind. Today, I will allow Mr Springsteen to help me through all my feelings and emotions, as only his music can do. Maybe, I'll get a message in one of the songs, maybe I'll hear something I missed the million other times I've heard a song, and maybe I'll somehow feel the weight of this lift from my shoulders.

Maybe.

For now, I'll listen with open ears and an open heart. And one day, when I am fortunate enough to meet Mr Springsteen, I will thank him for always coming to my rescue. A girl can dream......

Tick tock, tick tock time is drawing near!

Ok, so Christmas is my favorite time of (day of) the year! My earliest Christmas memory happened in 1977. My little brother, Travis, was born on the 23rd of December that year. YAY! Merry Christmas! I got a brother, however I wanted a sister! I was devastated when the call came to my grandma's house telling me that I had a(nother) little brother. NOOOOOOOOOOOO! I hung up on my dad and immediately ran upstairs and bawled my eyes out! Yes, that was December 23.

My mom had to stay in the hospital for a few days, as she had my brother via a C-Section, so if you do the math, guess where she spent Christmas that year? Yup! The hospital. I don't remember much about THAT but what I do remember......waking up on Christmas morning and opening presents with my other little brother, Chad, and my Dad. I unwrapped the BEST present a little girl could hope for!! I got a real working sewing machine for little girls. I was so excited. That was a time in life when you got one 'big' present and then little odds and ends. THAT was my big present! Guess who didn't get to even try it out because mom was in the hospital (she knew how to use it) and dad didn't have a clue what to do with it. Miserable! I seriously remember not liking my new baby brother for awhile after that because he 'ruined my Christmas'. HAHAHA!!!

 

Christmas has always been a great time of year for me. Traditions that were deep in family. Cookies. Church. One of my favorite things to do was to help my grandma decorate her Christmas tree each year. She had these awesome little bell ornaments that she hung on her tree that looked like little people. Elves and angels or something. There might have only been 5 of them. She always saved those for me to put on the tree. I loved those ornaments. After my grandmother passed away, I asked to have them to keep the tradition alive of putting them on my tree. A little bit of my grandmother (whom I miss terribly, especially at Christmas time) lives on each year as I ring each bell and place it on my tree! One day, I hope to have grandchildren who want to help me decorate my tree and those bells will be saved for them to place!

As a child, Christmas was always a hectic day for my parents. We'd have to visit both sets of grandparents and it seemed like we never had a lot of time at any place, but as a child, it was all we knew of Christmas. The hustle and bustle of the day. Family. Love. One year, the only thing I asked for from Santa was a Cabbage Patch Preemie doll. It wasn't just any Cabbage Patch Preemie on my list. I wanted an African American BOY preemie. My best friend's family had been fostering a little boy who I adored. I wanted a doll that was just like Aaron!! I found out later that my grandfather (who was an old school PA Dutch kind of guy) had traipsed all over Allentown looking for THE doll I wanted and did not settle til he found it, although it ended up being a girl. April Priscilla! Another fond Christmas memory of days gone by. Memories of Christmas that make me smile.

My home is decorated to the nines for Christmas! I've got Christmas trees in almost every room, decorations in every room (YES, even the bathroom gets decorated!), and I love to be surrounded by the beauty of Christmas. White lights on the tree, around the door/archways, on decorations; they are the only light I prefer when sitting around at night watching my Christmas movies!!

Christmas music has been playing at my desk since Thanksgiving. I've been wearing Christmas attire since we are back from Thanksgiving break (and I'm sad there wasn't more time between Thanksgiving and Christmas this year!). I'm done with the wrapping, the sending of Christmas cards, stocking stuffers have been purchased (slightly disappointed in them this year), and I'm ready to put work in the books for this year (ONE MORE DAY!)!! The dogs have their Christmas collars and bandanas on! I've been told I suffer from O.C.D (Obsessive Christmas Disorder) and to that I say, YOU ARE NOT WRONG!!! I love all things Christmas and sometimes I struggle when others don't share in my affinity for all things Christmas. In my world, Christmas can get here now!!! Hurry Christmas!!!

In my love for all things Christmas, one image will ALWAYS stand out in my memory bank. As a child, we would drive to the next town to visit my grandparents. A storefront on the main street in the town always had a statue in their front window of Santa kneeling at the manger of the Christ Child. It always struck me as profound (even before I knew what profound meant). There was always something about THAT window display that put the meaning of Christmas where it should be. Yes, Christmas is wonderful with the lights, bells, trees, Santa Claus, gifts, music, movies, TV specials, hoopla out the whazoo, but in reality, Christmas is beautiful for the one gift that was unselfishly given to us, in the form of a baby in a manger. The image of Santa kneeling at the Christ Child's manger is a hauntingly beautiful reminder of the TRUE meaning of the season.

Merry Christmas to you and yours. May the blessings of Christmas be with you this holiday season and in the days that follow, as we usher in a new year, new decade.

Christmastime is here

It's almost Christmas!! It truly is my favorite time of year (and honestly, my favorite DAY of the year!)!!! I love all things Christmas! The lights!! The colors!! Santa!! SNOW!! The Nativity!! The Christmas Story!! Bells!! Tinsel!! Garland!! Angels!! Balls!! Music!! Movies!!

Christmastime is here. It's my favorite time of the year for so many reasons. I've been determined to keep it my favorite time of year, despite the hand we were dealt with in the last 3 months. This year, Christmas will be so different, but rather than become all mopey about it, I am embracing the change. 

It will be the first year that there will be no children in our house on Christmas morning. 29 years of waking up to one (or both) of my girls in their rooms, patiently waiting to go downstairs to see what Mama Claus delivered during the night has come to an end, as I knew it one day would. And as much as I knew it would, I wasn't quite prepared for it. There is a part of me that is sad at this thought (because it has always been my favorite part of the day - waking up and heading downstairs and seeing their faces at what was under the tree!!!) but there is also a part of me that is so proud at how wonderfully their lives have turned out. Each living in their own homes, creating Christmas traditions with their families. It's a new Christmas for me this year, but I'm ok with that!

This year will be different in that we won't get our usual texts from California. Bill won't get his hour(s) long Christmas phone call from Billy. I'm praying for peace in our hearts this Christmas day, as we go about our day keeping his memory alive and remembering him with happy memories of Christmases past, thanking God for the Christmases we HAD with him. Different. A new normal.

December 25 will also mark our 10th anniversary!! 10 years of being married to the most amazing man I've ever known in my life (next to my dad!). Not even joking when I say, it feels like we've been together forever. Bill always says we have. We've been together in many previous lives and somehow we always manage to find each other over and over again. I believe that, weird as it may sound. When I first met Bill DeHart, I had no idea what changes he would bring to my life. I will forever be thankful our paths crossed again and that we managed to become one. There is NO one else I want to go through life with than my main squeeze!

10 years ago, when Bill proposed the idea of getting married on Christmas Day, in my grandmother's living room (where he proposed to me 2 years prior), I thought he was just kidding around. I wasn't so sure I really wanted to get married again. I was content with life as it was. As often as Bill would say we would get married one day, I swore it was 'never gonna happen' for one reason or another (we have quite a history there!). We managed to throw together an incredible wedding in two weeks time and we got married in front of the Christmas tree in my grandmothers front living room at 4pm on December 25, 2009 by the Mayor of Bowmanstown and in front of family and two special friends! It was my last Christmas with my beloved Grandma Marilyn. It was the best Christmas of my life up to that point. Every Christmas since has been exceptional. I love all things Christmas and hope to spread that Christmas cheer to those I encounter on a daily basis!

Life in the last 10 years: we've traveled a lot, watched our daughters graduate high school and college (a few times), supported our son in his life decision to move across the country, saw our daughter get married, another one get engaged, experienced the heartache of losing our son, added two dogs to the family, produced a CD for the band (YAY BILL!! FOLLOW THAT DREAM, MY LOVE!), and simply enjoyed life TOGETHER. 

Bill, life with you is nothing short of amazing. You keep me smiling when I want to frown, laughing when I want to cry. You support all my crazy ideas and love me through thick and thin. You have the biggest heart of anyone I know and I am so blessed that you share that heart with me. Happy 10 years (I know I'm early, but the mood struck for this post so here it is!), Babe!!!!

Wishing everyone who has read this blog a very Merry Christmas and a Happy and Joyous New Year. May 2020 be better than 2019!!!

The Tuesday struggle is real

If you follow me on Instagram, you saw my post from today. It's Tuesday and I really have come to hate Tuesdays. I feel like everything bad that has ever happened in my life has happened on a Tuesday. I was diagnosed with Cervical Cancer ON A TUESDAY. My beloved Grandma Marilyn died ON A TUESDAY. My stepson died ON A TUESDAY. And it wasn't until Billy's death that I realize just how crappy Tuesdays have been in my life. And I'm sure it's all in my head, but......

This Tuesday started out with an overdraft charge in my checking account (still trying to figure that one out), Penny puking all over my carpeting 10 minutes before having to leave for work (DISGUSTING), and being in a real shitty mood. I heard Martina McBride's version of Silent Night on the radio on my way to work and cried buckets. That song always does me in, but today it was a million times worse. And I can't figure out why the Siri doesn't work in my car (hands free stuff) all of a sudden (which is trivial, I know but today it set me over the edge). It's Tuesday. And as much as I always taught my girls, when having a bad day, "Momma says some days are like that, even in Australia." (thanks Alexander), I can't shake the complete disdain for Tuesdays.

So, in addition to all that, I've been struggling a lot with some inner demons regarding Billy and where I (honestly) fit into his life. Billy and I had a 'different' kind of relationship. I came into his life when he was older, so it wasn't a typical stepparent/stepkid (hate those terms) kind of relationship where we had to 'figure' each other out. I never felt resented or disliked as his stepmom (and if he did feel that way, I NEVER felt it) but due to the physical distance that always separated us, time spent together was always far and few between. My most treasured memory of time spent JUST with Billy happened on our trip to New Orleans for his 29th Mardi Gras birthday. We shared a great morning walking the French Quarter and having breakfast, just the two of us. I wish I could go back to that time...... When he moved to California, my time spent with him became non-existent. It was so much easier for his dad to go visit him (being that he works for himself and could take the time - unlike me, who had to be careful of time taken off during the school year). Sure we made plans, and Billy always asked when I was coming out so he could show me Cali, but for one reason or another, I never made that happen. Enter regret.

I always tried to make sure that he knew where he stood in our lives, in MY life. I always tried to make sure he knew how proud I was to call him 'son'. I always tried to make sure he knew just how much I loved his dad, because if ANYONE loved his dad more than I did, it was Billy. But was it enough? Was it enough?

Being Billy's 'stepmom' was an easy role to have in his life. I always respected the fact that he had a mom (and a good one, too) and so I never ever pretended to be something I wasn't. I was always fully aware that I was NOT his mom. Bill and I would discuss Billy things and I could always give Bill my opinion, advice, suggestions, but ultimately, my opinions were just that. Opinions. I was able to offer my advice to Billy if and when he'd come to me with a situation. That didn't happen often, but when it did, I remember riding Cloud 9. Random texts would put me in a good mood for days!!! I miss that. I miss the outreach. I miss texts and check ins. I miss the kid.

The love and pride in my heart for him was immense. IS immense. It was a different love for a child. I was fully aware I didn't give birth to him, but my goodness did I love him as my own, and in our family, my own two daughters referred to him as 'their brother'. He was part of our family and I often wonder I did enough to make him feel that. It's a constant struggle for me right now. I struggle with if I was enough for him. Did I do a good enough job as his stepmom for him to never question my intentions or my feelings towards him or where he fit with us? I'm pretty sure this all stems from some events that took place in the weeks after Billy passed away, where my own feelings felt challenged and disregarded. It could also stem from really wishing I could get a response from all the texts I've been sending. I miss seeing 'Love ya 2' come back to me after sending a text. I've stopped texting (as much) because the lack of response has been tough. I seriously keep checking my phone, expecting SOMETHING back. ANYTHING. That void is crippling. I know he's not there, but I want him to be. And perhaps it's because Thanksgiving is two days away, and I'm not sure I'm ready for the holidays to arrive because it will be 'different' this year. My heart is just not ready for any of it, and I don't know that it ever will be ready.

Perhaps this is all part of the grieving process. Perhaps these doubts that have crept in are all part of losing a part of our lives. Perhaps I need to stop replaying some of the events of the past 11 weeks. Perhaps. Being stuck in your own thoughts is tough to navigate out of. Today, my own head is my worst enemy. I know what's in my head and heart but uncertainty has become my demon today and it is bringing me down. 

I'm going to try to follow the quote image above....it's a wonderful twofold reminder for me and I have to do better at remembering. I try not to cry because the sun (son) is gone....I need to look to the stars and remember what a bright guiding star we have now. I find some comfort in that and in that comfort there is hope.

I know I'll rise above and will be ok as I work through all this. If you've taken the time to read this rambling post, THANK YOU. As I always say, it's so much easier to write my feelings than speak them.

On grief and loss

Right now, I'm wondering how anyone 'gets over' significant losses. I know time is supposed to ease pain, but I also know from experience, that is not always the case. The losses I suffered in the last 5 weeks are different to me than losing my grandmother almost 10 years ago. That loss took me 8 years to even remotely come to grips with. I truly lost myself when I lost her. I'm trying desperately to NOT let that happen to me again, but lately I feel myself faltering in so many ways. I feel I've lost my twinkle, my spark, my happy zest for life. And that scares me (but I guess it's a good thing I recognize that? Perhaps?).

I wake up each morning with a certain sense of dread. I know it’s not healthy, so spare me the advice on that, but it’s an accurate fact of my life over the last 5 weeks. I am truly thankful for everyone’s outreach and to my closest friends who have listened to me vent my heart aches....you will never know how much I truly appreciate that. I was told, by a very good friend, that “Maybe you're not supposed to be the same. Loss is inevitable. It's too soon to even begin to get through it. You haven't even had all the services yet. Even then it wont be the time. It needs to marinate. His life had meaning and it deserves to be mourned.” These words hold true for both the loss of Billy AND my grandma. This is a raw and unequivocal grief. And I am walking it alone, at my own pace with all the feelings and emotions that come with it. I still have my good moments and my not so good moments (this morning is the latter of the two) but I keep one prayer in my heart daily, and that is the prayer that I will, eventually, find my peace through all of this. My grief is my grief. 

Grief is both a universal and a personal experience....while everyone experiences loss in their lives, their loss is individual, as I was recently reminded by another dear friend of mine, who experienced a grief of his own not that long ago. Everyone experiences grief at some point in their lives, however, HOW you cope with it is your own, personal experience. Grief, for me, comes in waves and at times, I struggle to keep myself above the water. It knocks me down, tosses me around in the surf like a ragdoll, and just when I feel like I've got my footing about me and can escape it's pounding, it hits me again, and the cycle starts all over. At our teacher in-service on Monday, my supervisor went around the room, asking everyone 'How are you coping with daily stresses? What are YOU doing for YOU to keep you from slipping into the abyss?' I lost it. I sat and cried, unable to answer her question, because in all reality, I haven't been doing ANYTHING for me. I feel like my sole (soul's) purpose right now is to be whatever my husband needs me to be for him. In doing that, I've not truly allowed myself to fully grieve. I grieve in private (which I know is ok...but sometimes I need to be able to cry into someone's shoulder, too). I accept that I own my own grief. Only I truly understand where my grief comes from, how deep the loss hurts, how I am going to cope, and how to navigate the stages of grief, that I feel I have no control over. Sometimes, I just need to be able to grieve WITH someone instead of alone.

I just need everyone to be patient with me and know that just because I may smile and seem ok, I am far from it. Be strong FOR me because I certainly haven’t been very strong for myself.....

Not everything happens for a reason

I’ve had many trials in my 46 years on this earth. Life has not been perfect OR easy, this much I can attest to. One thing people constantly want to offer as support is, “everything happens for a reason” when trying to ‘comfort me’ over the many hardships life seemed to throw my way lately. This past month has been no exception. It seems to be the phrase that everyone uses in the hopes that what I've experienced was somehow for my benefit and it would make me a better person, or a stronger person, OR to just simply test my faith. Guess what, people? There isn’t solace in those words, that phrase, the assumption that everything that has happened in the past month happened ‘for a reason’, as if I ‘deserved’ what happened in some way or another. Nope. I’m not buying it and I’m done with that phrase. The loss of Billy is not a test. It is not a lesson to be learned. It is not a gift of some sort. IT IS A HUGE GUT-WRENCHING LOSS. AND IT F*CKING HURTS.

There are trials and tribulations in life that you can easily ‘get over’, this much IS true and I'll gladly concede to that, however, there are other experiences in life that are permanent. They have no ending. You are forever stuck in them and clearly aware there is no escape from the pain and heartache that they bring with them. The only thing I can hope right now, is that time will (hopefully) bring a softening of the pain and heartbreak that we are left to bear for the rest of our lives. It feels as if the world has thrown the fastest curve-ball and it has gone straight through the body and soul, leaving a gaping hole that can never be pieced back together. A massive wound is left and it can’t ever be fixed, no matter how hard you try. This is the best example of what it feels like to lose a child, and even though my loss was that of a stepson, it does not lessen the blow. It doesn’t make this any easier to work through. There is no “moving on” or “getting over it” or even a solid 'reason' for why this has happened. There is no end.

Losing a child hurts like hell and I won’t pretend it is anything but awful, agonizing, devastating, gut-wrenching and heart-shattering. It isn't something I would ever want someone else to have to experience. "Everything happens for a reason” does NOT apply here. I’m sorry, but there will never be a good enough reason that Billy was taken from us. There won’t ever be a good enough reason for the memories that should have been made to be gone. There won’t ever be a good enough reason for everyone else’s lives to still go on as day in day out normal, but yet Billy’s life devastatingly stopped after 34 short years.

I know when people say “remember, everything happens for a reason” it is meant to somehow help cope with the loss. I completely understand that it is said out of love and from a good place. I understand people are at a complete loss of what to say.  Sometimes it is better to just be there with a listening ear, soft shoulder, a simple 'thinking of you' text, and an understanding that life will NEVER be the same for us again.

I will do what I can to keep Billy’s memory alive, always. Please do the same……..

One day at a time

First of all, happy 8 years to my Think Thankfully mindset. It was 8 years ago today that my nightly thankful posts began. So, happy 8 years of nightly posts expressing gratitude, even when it was hard to do so............ 

......and that quickly focus shifts to blog posts because writing is my only outlet right now. There are too many things swirling around inside my head (and my heart) and I feel like sometimes the only way to help get them out is to write, write, write. I don't always share my true feelings with people. I tend to keep things inside and just 'deal' with them on my own. I have moments where I can smile and laugh, and then in a quick second, I could just sit and cry.

If there is anything I've learned in the last 3 weeks, it is that major losses are extremely overwhelming. Experiencing two pretty significant losses in a span of 20 days has taken its toll on me. I am struggling terribly, but I am pretty sure it is just deep grief and not a depression. I put on a happy face, but it does not mirror what I'm feeling on the inside. I am struggling. I am struggling to make sense of things, to figure out how to grieve two people in two very different manners, to see a light at the end of the tunnel, to see a brighter future. Life has taken on a 'one day at a time' kind of mantra. Today is one of those days where I do not feel like being at work, I do not feel like being around people, and I do not feel like smiling. I'd much rather be at home, snuggled with my little dog, and letting the world go by with no expectations from me. That's the truth of my life right now.

So many people have told me that I am such a strong person. I can handle this because I am strong. Let me tell you, that is farthest from the truth right now. I do not feel strong. I do not feel like I 'can handle' this. It is hard for me to talk to people about this because, unless you've experienced a loss like this, (you know, two significant losses in a matter of three weeks time), you cannot even begin to imagine. Losing one has been heart shattering. Losing the other compounded the grief and intensified the feelings. Losing both has been a bit too much for me to handle. And I am ok admitting that. I'm not strong. I'm human. I'm trying to deal the best way I know how.

My husband amazes me with his ability to wake up every morning and tackle his days with, what appears to be, minimal darkness. He is the epitome of strength and reassurance. I'm truly in awe of him each and every day. That is not to say he isn't grieving. I know he is. I know this is a hurt that he will take with him every day of the rest of his life. I know my husband will not be whole again until he sees Billy again. I also know that my husband grieves for my grandmother, too. They had a special bond, the two of them. Up until the end of her life, she still made sure he knew that HE was going to get the 'red envelope' from her forever. But the grief we share for my grandmother's passing is so different that the intense sadness felt over Billy's passing. My grandmother lived almost 91 very full years. She had a long life, filled with many ups and downs, but one thing for sure, she was the best role model of what a strong woman looks like. Billy lived for 34 short years. He had so much life ahead of him. And in moments when I think abut this, it just doesn't seem fair. But life is the farthest thing from fair.

I was reminded that it is OK to take life one day at a time right now, considering what I've been dealt with the past three weeks. I was reminded that my light will shine through again, in time. I was reminded to be patient with myself. And I am trying.....it's just very hard.

One day at a time.......

California reflections

I'm struggling to juggle two huge losses in such a short period of time and I feel like I'm swimming in deep grief for one and a more shallow grief for the other. My heart breaks at the loss of my grandmother, just yesterday morning, but at the same time, my heart was prepared for this for a while. That doesn't make the loss of my last living grandparent any easier, but it gives me more comfort than the loss of Billy just 20 days prior.

This was written on September 29, 2019 as we flew from LAX to Newark.....

The past 10 days have been the longest days of my life. I was saying that to Nanda this morning before we left their apartment. Normally when you ‘go away’ it seems like such a short trip. You get there and in the blink of an eye you are packing up, ready to leave. Not this time. This has been the longest 10 days of my life. Last Friday seems soooooooo far in the past. There was no blink of an eye here.

We are currently flying 37,000 feet somewhere over the US en route to our home in Pennsylvania. I’m listening to my ‘Billy Playlist’ and trying to collect all my thoughts about this trip to California. I thought I could use this time to recall, reflect, and release some of the emotions that seem to have me trapped like a hamster running on its wheel with no real end in sight, thoughts turning and turning in my head with no way to get them out. I know that’s not healthy and as my dearest best friend told me on Friday, I need to get out of my own head and listen to my heart. All I can think about is the trip as a whole; the good, the bad, and the downright ugly. And perhaps that is ok.

From the time we hit San Diego on September 20 until this morning (September 29), we’ve been on a roller coaster of high points and low points and some extremely low points. There are parts of the past 10 days that I’d love to forget in their entirety, and while that would be so nice, I know that without the extreme low points I’d lose sight of the bigger picture and I’m pretty sure that is a more important thing to keep focused on.

We’ve been running on adrenaline and emotion and, quite honestly, it’s been absolutely draining. Together, we’ve had to do things that no parent should have to ever do. Together, we attended 3 California celebrations for Billy. Three. San Diego. Fullerton. San Bernardino. Together, we went to the California Dept of Vital Statistics to obtain death certificates - true gut punch as they were handed to us. Together, we greeted friends and listened to stories of Billy. Together, we cried. Together, we laughed. Together. 99% of the past 10 days was spent, together. As one.

But there was also a dark side. One I won’t write about because that is something I need to process and while I don’t think I’ll ever completely release it, I will not let it consume me, because I know that is not a healthy way to live. I have to try to remain the positive person I aim to be each day. As I type this out, a song by Needtobreathe is playing. It’s a song that I posted to Bill soon after Billy passed away. Forever on your side. It’s the reminder I need that regardless of the worst experience and absolute darkest place I had gone to this week due to some circumstances, I am forever on his side. And I will always be. I don’t know what’s around the bend, all I know is that my love, it knows no end.....

Music has always been a source of comfort and peace for me. I created this Billy Playlist of songs since his passing on September 10. I’ve also added songs to it that friends have shared with me, to help me cope with his death and everything that has come from it. As I listen to it, I smile and at the same time I feel the tears that have been bottled up, ready to fall from the corner of my eyes. And I think that’s ok.

I truly believe Billy placed people in my path during this difficult time so that I never was truly alone, even when I felt it. Jenny, Mike, Cam, Hallie, Big Steve, and even Joe and Nanda, even though I’d known Joe for about 12 years. Prior to California, there’s Nadya, in the OBX. All people who have been physically there for me but who, prior to Billy’s death, had only been names in stories or videos (except Joe and Nanda - they are family). The connections made with each of these individuals is something I will forever treasure and be thankful for.

I’m not sure if this will ever see the light of day or if I’ll keep it just for me to look back on, but an hour plus worth of writing and many songs later, my black hole of emotions doesn’t feel so dark anymore. And I know that’s a good thing.

As I look out the window at the vast expanse beyond the airplane window, I picture Billy in the clouds, grinning that Billy grin, and happy that I’m doing what I can to be whatever his dad needs right now and in the moments to come. I will miss my texts and reassurance when I needed medical advice or explanations. I will miss the joking about football. I will miss jah jah pizzas. I will miss his voice. I will miss his hugs. I will simply miss him.

I miss you, Kid. So very much.

Because I can write my feelings better than speak them.....

My heart is shattered. I'm still trying to process what unfolded in our lives one week ago on September 10, 2019, when we learned my husband's son, unexpectedly, passed away at the young age of 34. A parent's worst nightmare. As a friend told me, “you may not have given birth to him, but you shared your heart with him” and that I did. He wasn’t a step son …. he was my son by way of his father. He was an absolutely amazing young man with such a bright future. I believe it is safe to say we are still in a state of shock, disbelief …..

I’ve had the pleasure of being involved in my son’s life for roughly 13 of his 34 young years. From the first time I met him, he was so respectful and talked to me with genuine interest in topics discussed. He welcomed me into his home, he made sure I had growlers of my favorite obscure beer and my favorite pizza ready when we showed up. I knew I could lean on him when I needed him. He shared his successes with me, his frustrations with me. I’ve always been proud to refer to him as our son. His dad was prouder than a peacock at all he accomplished in his short life. I even told him that one time. I remember that conversation so well. Right now, I could kick myself for having my text messages set to delete after 30 days, because some of our chats would have been fantastic to look back over the last week. Live and learn, I guess.

Sudden and unexpected deaths rock our lives. I remember when my Grandmother fell, and later passed from her injuries how my world was rocked. My faith was tested (and I failed that test miserably). I remember how deeply hurt I was. I didn’t think I’d ever experience a pain like that again. I was wrong. This is worse. This is a million times worse. News of this magnitude is something no parent should ever have to hear.

I tend to express my feelings far better in writing than I can verbally, which is why I felt like heading to my blog (not that I keep it very updated anymore, which is sad in my mind because I truly do love to write my feelings out). I knew I could convey how I am feeling better in the written word than the spoken one.

Billy was every bit a dynamic person.  He was charismatic and charming. He had the unique ability to connect with anyone and everyone … every single person he came in contact with, from the young to the old. He was respected and admired by many. Billy devoted his life to making a difference in the world. He wanted to be someone and do something that would change the world around him or people he encountered in his life. He was Billy. He was larger than life. Our loss is truly heaven’s gain and I just have to keep believing that God needed him for something big up there.

The last time I spoke with Billy, I reminded him of just how proud his dad was of him …. and that I was too. That is a fact that will never change. I will forever be proud to call him my son and I will carry him in my heart until the day it stops beating and I KNOW I will forever feel the pain of having a shattered heart.

I’m struggling with this terribly. I’m trying to be strong for my husband. I’m trying to be the rock I know he needs. I was reminded by my most amazing sister-friend to feel what I am feeling because shoving the feelings down just makes it come up later and with much more force. She is so right. I have been trying hard to keep my own hurt at bay, as if my feelings aren’t valid or permitted. I know it sounds funny, but it’s honest. My daughter sent me a screenshot of a page in a book she is, or was, reading. It resonated with me LOUDLY. I don’t know the book, so I can’t give proper credit, but it said: “Jesus is present in our pain and suffering …… If we experience grief at the loss of a loved one, we should not simply tough it out or forcibly turn our attention to more pleasant things; rather we should let Jesus bear the loss with us. After all, Jesus lost your loved one, too.” I share my heartache on my drive to work each morning. As I watch the sun coming up on my drive, painting the sky the colors of the morning, I tend to vocalize my feelings, I allow the tears to flow freely out of my eyes and down my cheeks, I give myself the permission to cry.

I am trying to keep believing that God must have needed Billy for something HUGE up there that He had to take him so early, in the prime of his life. That really isn’t a comfort to me, to be honest. On some scale it scares me at what’s to come from this, what his new purpose is, what he was soooooo needed for up there. But rather than live with anxious anticipation, I have to live in the now.

I know one thing for certain through this whole nightmare. We WILL get through this together. My husband says that ‘we are one’ and I know we are stronger together. So for now, we cling to each other, and together we will manage to get through each day, one at a time. For better, or for worse …. and it does NOT get much worse than this right now.


“There's no tragedy in life like the death of a child. Things never get back to the way they were.” ~ Dwight D. Eisenhower

I miss you, kid.

William Arthur DeHart, III

3/4/1985 ~ 09/10/2019