My Amee had just turned 7 years old when Pebs was born. If you could describe the best big sister, she would be it. She immediately took on the role of second mommy. She looked forward to carrying him, feeding him, pampering him, loving on him, and all the other sisterly duties expected of an older sister. She was perfect. They were perfect together.
September 25, 2017 changed her. The day her baby brother tragically and unexpectedly passed away marked her heart and soul with tremendous sorrow. She was there when we couldn’t find Pebs. She saw the fear, the tears, the devastation in our eyes. She experienced seeing adults fall to their knees in agony. She heard screams, the wailing of grown men and women, the terror of that day will forever be imprinted in her young, innocent mind. She was only 8. She saw her parents in disarray as they were driven away to the hospital behind the ambulance that was carrying her baby brother’s lifeless body. She stayed behind full of fear. My mom stayed with her and tried to console her as she herself was in disbelief. The days that followed were of survival for Amee. I was physically present, but emotionally and spiritually, I was dead. She had my sister, my cousin, grandma, and family friends that all came to the rescue. They helped take her to school, kept her fed and distracted in a time where her home was completely changed from what it was before. Her home that was filled with baby laughter, family love, a house of 4, was now shattered. The home she once knew was no more. As an 8 year old, how do you begin to grasp the reality of loss? She would see me every day crying. She saw the agonizing pain in her daddy’s eyes. She felt the brokenness in her once complete and perfect world. Her life was forever changed. She lost her brother to death, but her parents now seemed gone, as well. She had never felt more alone, full of sadness, and so helpless. All she wanted was for everything to go back to how it used to be.
It’s amazing looking back how God truly carried us through. Those days following the tragedy are a blur, but I know He was there every step of the way. He gave me the strength every day to get out of bed and live. He gave me the will to hurt, to grieve, to break so that He could also mend me in His way for my daughter and loved ones that still needed me. I knew that my pain was too much for me to handle, so He helped me get through the hardest part of my life in order for my daughter to witness His love, His mercy, His grace, His peace, His power. He had to work in me and through me for our family to survive. I needed to overcome the brokenness so Amee could have her mother back. Amoree needed to know in this life we will experience the worst pain, but without Him, there is no life to prevail. She saw me at the very lowest, darkest pit of depression and pain. But she saw me climb out, slowly and painfully, but she saw her mother stand back up. She witnessed her parents through tears and sadness, not miss a single holiday or birthday. She experienced her heart get broken in a millions pieces, but was exposed to so much love and affection from all of our family and friends. The thousands of people that showed their support through simple gifts, phone calls, visits, a hug, benefits, and especially softball.
I don’t know how different our lives would be today if we didn’t experience this tragedy. I know Amee went through a very hard and dark time in her life. Self-esteem, confidence, courage, fear are all very real emotions that she struggles with till this day. We did see therapists and counselors for a while but Amee is not one that enjoys talking about her pain or her issues. We turned softball into our therapy. We engulfed our energy into a sport. We chose to spend our days together in a ballpark. Through that journey, we made a team in Pebs honor. Our team was called the Moonshots, and made some great friends and amazing memories along the way. We spent many evenings outside practicing and taking pictures of the moon. We were able to move forward, together, as a family and this sport allowed us to spend so much time with our daughter, who needed her parents to help her overcome her grief. Without words, without medication, without therapist, we watched Amee flourish into a young, smart, competitive, softball pitcher. She is now 15. Today is her birthday. It’s amazing to think it’s been 7 years. Seven years that were crucial to her growth, her mental state, her character, her life.
We have lost family and friends along this grief journey. It changes you and forces you to change your lifestyle. However, we have gained some wonderful friends and loved ones through this path. Amee lost her brother, but she also lost the life she was living. She needed stability again. She needed her parents, her mom to be there for her. She wanted everything to go back to normal, and it was our job to make her life be “normal” again. I couldn’t give her that. I had to mend back together. I had to find my new “normal” in order to give her one. I had to allow God to work in me, as much as it hurt. I had to feel the pain. I had to feel the shattered, broken heart get mended back together. Piece by piece, crease by crease slowly and painfully, God worked in me so that I could be the mother, wife, sister, daughter, leader He needed me to be after this tragedy. We don’t choose grief. Amee didn’t choose it, but in this life, we will experience heartaches, loss, unspeakable pain, but if we allow God to work all things out, He will work it our for our good. If we give Him all of our faith, believe in Him, and ask for His strength, He will listen and will not leave us or forsake us. I experienced His glory. I felt His presence, His peace, His strength. I knew He was carrying me. I am here because of Him. My daughter could be in a completely different place right now, but because of Him, she is not only striving, but succeeding in this life. When all of the odds were against her to be anything but a failure, she became a shining star. Allow God to work in every area of your life. Be faithful and believe in Him. He will never leave you.
“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to His purpose.”
Romans 8:28
Therefore it is not God’s will that when we feel pain we should pursue it in sorrow and mourning over it, but that suddenly we should pass it over, and preserve ourselves in the endless delight which is God.
He was infatuated with the ever changing Moon. My son loved playing and being outside. There was a day during our evening exercises that he looked toward the sky, pointed to the Moon, and began to leap for the mysterious and distant Moon. He must’ve jumped at least a hundred times trying to reach that celestial object so profound in the sky. Pebs pointed, turned towards me and engaged me to look at the Moon, and then continued to jump for it. He was so proud to have discovered this bright, astronomical “ball” that he apparently didn’t think I knew existed. All of this was during the day when the Moon is “asleep” and not supposed to be seen.
Since September 25, 2017, I haven’t missed a single day or night without searching the sky for the moon. Most days I see it and try to capture it with my phone camera whether it’s during the day or night. Some days, I talk to him. I tell him how much I miss him, and with tears rolling down my face, I ask for strength. Other days, I just stare. I allow my thoughts to roam, to be free. But most of the days, I just thank God. It wasn’t on the first day or a week after. It probably wasn’t even a month after my son’s passing that I was grateful to Him. It was difficult to feel anything but brokenness for the first few months. Being grateful was not even a feeling I knew how to have in those days. Searching and discovering the Moon brought me solace in the first few months after his passing. It was almost our connection, my therapy. A time where I could release my anger, my questions, my brokenness. The Moon. How could something that brought my son and I so much joy, bring so much pain now? We jumped for it. We admired it. We learned about it. La Luna. It brought tears, agony, and happiness all at the same time.
One day, I’ll be able to write about that tragic day. I’ll magically script the horrific nightmare that tortures me and strengthens me all at once, but today isn’t the day. One day, I know I’ll relive that moment through words and know that projecting them on screen isn’t for my grief journey, but for others who will need to hear the story for their own grief and hope.
My Pebs. I often think what he would be doing now. What new words he would be speaking, and how far would he be hitting the baseball with his bat. Those thoughts tend to haunt and torture a grieving mother. I don’t allow myself to stay there long or too often. I spend time on our pond that we have in the backyard. I lay on the pier and look up into the sky. I spot the Moon and stare. I talk to him. I tell him how much I miss him. I let him know how much I love him. I express, with my tears and words, how much I wish he was here. I stare long and hard at the moon. The ever changing Moon. Then, with the tears flowing, I thank Him. I thank God for allowing ME to be his mom. What a blessing to have had the privilege to be Pebble’s mama! He chose me. He gave us 21-months with our sweet baby boy. He filled our hearts with so much joy, love, laughter, and a plethora of blessings! He blessed me with my son. He blessed me then, he blessed me on that horrible day, and he continues to bless me, now and forever. I walk through faith. I am a child of God.
The Moon will always be something that connects me with my Pebs. Now and forever. I have moon décor, jewelry, clothing, even our softball team was named Moonshots in honor of our sweet boy. It signifies his life, his love, his joy, his energy, his heart, and our connection. I think of how wonderful the Moon is, its significance to our world. The Moon on it’s own doesn’t shine, but it reflects light. Without it, we wouldn’t have the gravitational pulls of the Earth, helps with climate control, and allows the sun’s light to reflect off of her to give us illumination in the dark nights. When I was in the darkest time of my life, the Moon would be there shining brightly and reminding me that there was still a life, a world, that needed to be shined upon. My Pebs was that light to others, but especially to me. That same Moon that brought me agony during my darkest moments after I lost Pebs, also illuminated my heart out of that pit of blackness. In order to keep my son’s memory alive, to fulfill my purpose, I must be like the Moon. I can’t be useful in the dark. I have to climb out of the pit to the light in order to shine for others, just like my Pebs did. We all have a purpose and it can’t be discovered in the darkness. You can only shine in the light. The Moon will always be there, whether we can see it or not. It is there. Just like our pain, but we are allowed to live and help others while we are on this Earth.
I will continue to admire the Moon everyday of my existence and everyday, I will have my Pebs there with me.
“When the storms rage on, I look back and remember, how you’ve been my rock. You’ve been faithful to me. And I know I’m loved, I can stand on this promise. Through it all and say You’ve been good to me. ” -Faithful To Me worship song (Grace Houston Worship)
“Love the moment, and the energy of that moment will spread beyond all boundaries.” -Corita Kent
Pebble's Pond 