Tag: Loss

Green

“For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” -1 Corinthians 13:12

Green. It’s a secondary color, not like blue, yellow or red. Mixed together with yellow and blue, we get the color green. Verde is the word in Spanish. The Mona Lisa is painted with a green dress, and the British House of Commons has green benches. It is the color most associated with nature and wealth. It is a bright, an almost unforgettable color. As of September 25, 2017, green became  my favorite. Now and forever.

I was giving Pebs a bath. It was a Sunday evening. School for my daughter was on the next day. Therefore, early baths and bedtime routines were underway. I had set the baby’s sleeping clothes by his crib because sister loved to dress him afterward. We were playing with his bath letters, the ones that come in a multitude of colors and are made out of foam. Pebs could hand me all the colors when I asked for them, in English and in Spanish. I’d say, “Daddy’s, can you hand mama the red, rojo?” He’d reach down and hand me any random red letter. We’d do this every bath time, every color, in English and Spanish. He loved chewing on them, and as he’d reach for a new foam letter to place in his mouth, I’d ask for him to hand that color to me. That night, we were about done with his bath, and he reached down, grabbed a letter, and, as he was handing it to me, he said, “Green, green.” I was extremely excited and cheerfully repeated, “Yes, papasito, it is green. Good job!” It was his first time ever to actually name a color. Unbeknown to me, it would be his first and only color to ever name out loud. 

Verde. It is now my favorite color. I wear it all the time. My nail color is usually green. I buy green purses and shirts. If I had more courage to walk around with green hair, I probably would. We had a balloon release with green and white balloons on his birthday, December 24. (Yes, he was my Christmas miracle). I can still hear him saying “green” and handing me the letter. The best part of this grief journey besides me now having a favorite color, is that he left his little, tiny teeth marks on all of those foam letters. All the time that I would tell him to stop biting them, in English and Spanish, and he never listened, I now have a physical imprint of his tiny teeth forever. I still have that same letter that he handed me on that day. The letter W. The 23rd letter of the alphabet. The green foam letter W.  I kiss it every day before I step out of the shower. I imagine him kissing me back. I’m blessed to have had a baby boy that would bite his letters and not listen to mama when he was told to stop. I’m blessed to have his little teeth stamped in all those foam letters. I’m blessed to have the memory of that final day when he declared to me with great certainty that the color was green. 

Balloon release on Pebs first birthday in Heaven.
We all wore green.
Go, Go, Go shirts for his benefit.
Bracelets in green.
Cute little teeth mark.
His teeth marks.
“When you pass through the waters I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”
                                                                                                                                                             Isaiah 43:2
“We must be ready to allow ourselves to be interrupted by God.”
                                                                                                                                    -Dietrich Bonhoeffer

“When you are being stretched out of your comfort zone, always remember that is the very place God will have the most flexibility to show His divine power through you to those He places in your life.

Embrace these stretching times, never resent them.”

Author Unknown

A Sister’s Sorrow

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.

Juan of Norwich

Pain

My Sweet Pebble

When will the pain cease to abruptly attack whenever it chooses. It comes with no warning or sympathy. It doesn’t care if you are at church or at the store. Pain is deceiving. It tricks you to believe that it will never come again because the last time, it hit with such intensity that it knocked you down, took your breath away, and emptied you of all your tears. But here it is again. Smoldering over your heart, your memories, your past, and the distant future. However, Pain makes me stronger. It brings suffering, but just like every great and thundering storm, the rainbow is followed with great Hope and Promise. Pain is temporary. It is a state of mind. It is not who I am or who I choose to be. It is a necessity in this life. I have a purpose. In order for me to fulfill that purpose, I must build strength, perseverance, endurance, trust, and believe with all my heart and soul that God will keep His promise if I will allow Him to work through me. Pain will continue to find it’s way into my inner soul, but with my Heavenly Father’s help, it won’t linger as long. It won’t torment me as hard. I will be able to get up faster, stronger, and maybe even with a smile because I know that He is with me. He is there to hold me, comfort me, and whisper, “I will never leave you. We will walk this painful journey together, my daughter. You will soon see your Pebs again. Trust me.” Thank you, Lord, for your mercy, grace, and love.

“Out of every crisis comes the chance to be reborn, to reconceive ourselves as individuals, to choose the kind of change that will help us to grow and to fulfill ourselves more completely.”    –Nena O’Neil

“I know that I shall walk out into the sunshine again.” – Martha W. Hickman