Brooke's Heart is Healing

I asked Brooke the other day how she is feeling emotionally with the loss of her dad. She thought carefully for a moment and said, “I feel like life is back to normal, but a small piece of me is missing.”

That was a great answer and pretty much what I had carefully observed.

The constant tears, exhaustion, and sleeping is over.  Brooke is back to playing, laughing, and singing like nothing has happened. 

She will mention her dad in a funny light-hearted way like when I am trying for the 5^th time to get up our steep driveway covered in snow.  Brooke will say, “Dad, help push!”

She believes he is watching over her from Heaven.  I tell her I have her on earth, but her daddy gets to watch over her from Heaven. This makes her happy.

Brooke and I were in the car driving to a sleepover with a couple of her girl friends last night when she said how great friends are. She is truly learning this life lesson … at such a young age.

I thank God for Brooke being covered in prayer by family, friends, and all the special people I never expected that stepped out and stepped up in prayer, friendship, and support.

Brooke’s own friends and their parents have helped to fill in the gap showing support and love.

Keith’s death happened so suddenly.  I didn’t know how to handle a parent suicide of my child. We are not prepared for that in life.  All I knew was I needed to educate myself quickly to be as proactive as possible.  I contacted several child psychologists specializing in parent suicides for guidance.

I bought books and was given the link by my own academic advisor, who stepped up immediately, and provided me knowledge about a workbook for children of parent suicides. What a blessing in disguise!  It brought Brooke so much comfort in her own privacy by allowing her expressions of her loss in her heart.  I learned through her self expression that her main struggle she was facing was … abandonment.

You see, she refused to talk to anyone.  I had to fill in the gap as we mom’s do.

I prepared the school.  I prepared her teacher as her “safety person” if needed with curious kids.  I prepared and teamed up with the school counselor.

What I didn’t expect … was her friend’s to be so amazing and mature in 5^th grade as they too learned first hand what a parent suicide is.  They rallied around Brooke in many group hugs.  Said their, “I’m sorry for your loss.” They protected her and her heart. 

Many of these parents have stepped up in their words of support of how greatly their child was affected by Brooke’s loss.  Many parents helped fill the void with play dates and sleepovers.

How blessed we are to have come through such a tragedy, yet be covered in prayer and love.

The power of prayer protects and heals hearts. 

It is the balm of healing and restoration.

Her Daddy's Red Ring

Brooke received her daddy’s red ring today.

When Keith died, his parents came to town and took his possessions and his body back to Indiana. It’s sad how people act when a person dies … his possessions whisked away and divided among those older than Brooke that felt entitled. 

The one item Brooke asked for was her dad’s red ring. Nobody has bothered to look.

Roann has been Keith’s girlfriend for 5 years.  I really like Roann.  She is my age (40 yrs), absolutely beautiful, and called Nana to her two grandkids.  Which cracks me up!

Roann has always been so good to Brooke and I was always glad she was in her life.

We exchanged phone numbers at Keith’s funeral, she misses Brooke.  Her grandson also misses Brooke. Roann is a part of Keith and Brooke finds familiar comfort with her.

Roann hasn’t moved Keith’s clothes or moved his items such as his shaving cream and cap from where he left them lay on her bathroom counter.  She is empty.  She is lost. 

We call to check up on each other, she likes to talk about Keith. It is déjà vu listening to her. As if listening to my life, so many years ago.  

In one of our conversations, I mention my frustration over his possessions being taken and all Brooke has asked for is the red ring.  Roann HAS IT!  He had left it at her house, thank God!

Today Roann and her grandson, Logan, came over for our 1st play date.  She brought her daddy’s red ring, too.

The kids played, I put on coffee, and we talked for hours. Sharing stories. Laughing at stories. Crying together ... that’s what us girls do. My heart hurts for her.

She asked if Keith was in hell?  That she wonders about that because hasn’t gone to church since her mom died when she was 8 years old. I assured her that while Keith was a wild, free spirit, he absolutely believed in God, and openly talked about his faith. Once your name in written in the book, nothing can remove it. She smiled.

Brooke now has her daddy’s red ring.

I have a new friend.

Butterfly

A man found a new butterfly struggling to crawl out of its cocoon.

After carefully cutting an opening and extricating the butterfly, this small beauty died. Why? Because it is the struggle to get out of the cocoon that forces blood to pump through its veins and strengthen its wings. 

When robbed of the struggle, the butterfly died.

The same principle applies ... mastering the delicate balance of encouraging without rescuing allows others to exercise their inner being and grow in strength - empowered by their personal achievements.                                     ~ Michelle McKinney Hammond

A Favorite

My friends, who know me well, know I don’t have favorite’s.  I don’t have a favorite food, movie, actor/actress, dessert, restaurant, song, book, store, or friend, etc.

I am blessed my two favorite girls, Mariah & Brooke, two handfuls of best friends (two of them being guys), and a favorite color … red. 

That is it for my favorites.

Sometimes it bothers me.  Why don’t I have favorites?  I have a lot of, I really like’s, but it pretty much stops there. 

Oh! I do have a favorite spa, The Spa at Camelback Inn a JW Marriott resort in Scottsdale, AZ.  It is rated #9 in the world, #1 to me!

I have just realized I do indeed have a favorite character in the Bible!  Besides our beloved, Jesus, who is a constant favorite, I realize for the first time in my life I now have another favorite in the Bible!

It isn’t who you think … it’s a girl!  Men get so much credit in the Bible and someday I can’t wait to meet all of them!  But I want to meet someone else first! 

Have you ever experienced a time where a specific person, place, or thing continued to cross your path?  The story of “Deborah” and “fasting” seems to pop up everywhere for me. 

You would have to have an amazing story to be in the Bible. There is Mary, Mary Magdalene, Eve, Ruth, Sarah, and other famous women with amazing stories. The story of Deborah really impresses me!

Let me back up … in the past several years of my life I have come to the realization that I admire strong females.  Every one of my best girl friends has a strong personality and is an accomplished woman.  I get along best with strong personalities.  I admire inner strength, drive and passion in others. 

Deborah was a wife, prophetess, and judge over Israel who heard God and believed him. Her strong faith gave birth to hope, freedom, and peace that lasted forty years.

Her ability to inspire others to fulfill their calling of God and encourage them to press past their apprehensions, she graciously gave credit where credit was due and celebrated the victory of others without lifting herself up.

Deborah’s relationship with God and the ability to hear His voice, with her desire to serve His will, made her an effective leader, yet she remained humble. 

What wonderful qualities!  She allowed others around her to thrive in their callings and encouraged them without being threatened. Deborah had a kingdom-view of life.

When she called for Barak, leader of the Army, to go into battle, he refused to go into battle without her so she agreed to go with him. She willingly followed him to the battlefield to encourage him. She was fearless and extravagant in her support.

I admire encouragement, inspiration, and courage.

Deborah would be a best girl friend.  The Queen of Sheba is pretty impressive, too!

I am glad to have a new favorite!  J

A Light In Her Room

Some things are just unexplainable.

I have a story to share, that Brooke hasn’t fully comprehended yet.  Some things in life are comforting.  Some things in life are pondered and become scarier at night.  She is only 11 years old. 

Brooke and I traveled to Indiana for her dad’s funeral the Monday after Christmas. 

Brooke had a bag of toys and books to entertain herself in the car.  One of her treasured items, her dad’s company ink pen (PSD), has become a favorite item since his death. She lost it before we left on our journey.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010, was the day that Brooke attended her daddy’s funeral. Pain. Heart break. Tears. Loss. Never did I imagine I would endure a moment like that with my child.

After the funeral and burial the family went back to her grandparent’s home. I’m so thankful for that decision. A family went from heart break to bonding. Healing together after a painful tragedy.

The mood was lightened, the painful part of the journey now over. We are both more than ready to go home.  In fact, we both felt we couldn’t get out of Indiana fast enough!

Brooke had taken her Pokemon book and her DS game into her grandparent’s home to play with.  She hopped in the car, in the front passenger seat, and placed her book and DS on top of her bag of toys that was sitting on the floor.  We began our trip home.

We are talking happily and laughing about how fast we can exit this state, when Brooke said, “Mom, did you put this pen there?” I looked down and saw her treasured pen sitting on top of her book, leaning against her DS as if perfectly positioned reading PSD.

I looked at Brooke and saw her expression. She wasn’t playing. She was curious. She was excited. She was concerned. “No, I didn’t … you did!” I said.  She said, “Mom, I lost my pen yesterday.” I knew she had. Logic reminded me.

I looked at the perfectly placed pen.  On a bag of toys, so it couldn’t have rolled from under the car seat.  We both looked at each other. Unexplainable.

We left Indiana at 4:00 p.m. on that day to head home.  It was late for a six hour drive, but that was okay with us. 

As we pull into our driveway at 10:00 p.m., Brooke said, “Mommy you left my bedroom light on!”  Huh?  I did.  That’s odd though, it isn’t as bright as her too bright night light, a soft glow. Nonetheless, a light is on. 

We are glad to get out of the car and be home.  We enter a dark house.  There was no light on.  Not even in Brooke’s room. 

Brooke still doesn’t realize to this day and I have not said anything. I went into her room, no light anywhere.  Am I comforted?  I search the house anyway.

I knew everything was okay Mocha, our family cat, was calm and relaxed.

Some things are unexplainable in life. Do I believe in signs from above, happenings that bring us comfort?  Absolutely!

I will tell Brooke someday.

Transparent

I am transparent.

I share my victories and my happiness, as well as my failures, needs, and fears.

I am a dependent being. I accept in life I will have and not have.

My endurance is having a chance to grow.

Morning Commute

My morning commute can run between 40 minutes – 1 ½ hours depending on the weather conditions.  I like my morning commute for the fact that it is my time to mentally prepare for my day, talk to God, and touch base with my girl friends.

Morning is my favorite time of the day.  I think best and my best ideas are created usually between 5:30 – 7:30 a.m.

Yesterday … I have been home for 2 days with Brooke really sick with the flu.  Medicine for Brooke was $18.00. I stopped by Sam’s Club to buy a rotisserie chicken and grapes which should have cost around $9.00, ended up costing $51.00!  My membership ran out and automatically renewed.  Last night, the couple from the car accident called with their bill for $472.00.  Mariah text me 5 minutes later that the basketball $$$ is due $112 and for me to bring a check to the game tonight.  Then, my mom emailed the Verizon bill is due for the girls, $63 just for unlimited texting.  All within 2 hours!

When it rains, it pours. Did I mention child support has stopped?

Stephanie called this morning during my morning commute to check on Brooke.  As I have said countless times, thank God for girl friends!  She asked how I was doing and said she can’t believe how well I am holding up.  Not so hot today.

I turn on my computer in the office and asked God to please encourage me, today I feel like the walking wounded.

Mary Southerland, Girlfriend in God, was also having a difficult day.  She said she felt absolutely pathetic today, moaning and groaning. As she recapped her list of everything that could have gone wrong that had, she laid out her frustrations. I am relating.

She said, “The mind is a battlefield. The Bible tells us that we have the mind of Christ because we have a personal relationship with Him, but we still have to allow or choose to "let" the mind of Christ be in control. Every day we are at war for the control of the mind. Who wins that war is up to us and the choices that we make.  Impure and wrong thoughts will come but we do not have to entertain them and invite them to "come on in and stay awhile."

Storms will come. Storms are a reality of life. We have a choice to become a storm survivor or a storm statistic it is our choice to make. Today I am uncomfortable. Today I am hanging on by a thread. January 2011 has been full of big storms, but my God is bigger. 

F.E.A.R.

Joyce Meyer says that fear stands for "False Evidence Appearing Real."

I refuse fear and embrace faith instead.

I love Mother Theresa's saying, "I know God will not give me more than I can handle. I just wish he didn't trust me so much." 

The truth is God knows which battles will take me out and which ones will strengthen me. 

I know to the enemy it may seem he's won for a season, but he hasn't. He may have temporarily blind-sided me at a very deep level, but he knows already he has lost the war.

The soul loves and is loved in return; she seeks and is sought; she calls and is called. But in this, she lifts and is lifted up; she holds and is herself held; she clasps and she is closely embraced, and by the bond of love she unites herself to God, one with one, alone with Him.  ~ Saint Thomas Aquinas

Sisters

A young wife sat on a sofa on a hot humid day,

drinking iced tea and visiting with her mother. As
they talked about life, about marriage, about the
responsibilities of life and the obligations of
adulthood, the mother clinked the ice cubes in her
glass thoughtfully and turned a clear, sober glance
upon her daughter.

'Don't forget your sisters,' she advised, swirling
the tea leaves to the bottom of her glass. 'They'll
be more important as you get older. No matter how
much you love your husband, no matter how much you
love the children you may have, you are still going
to need sisters. Remember to go places with them now
and then; do things with them.'

Remember that 'sisters' means ALL the women...
your girlfriends, your daughters, and all your other
women relatives too. 'You'll need other women. Women
always do.'

What a funny piece of advice!' the young woman
thought. Haven't I just gotten married?
Haven't I just joined the couple-world? I'm now a
married woman, for goodness sake! A grownup! Surely
my husband and the family we may start will be all I
need to make my life worthwhile!'

But she listened to her mother. She kept contact
with her sisters and made more women friends each
year. As the years tumbled by, one after another,
she gradually came to understand that her mother really
knew what she was talking about. As time and nature
work their changes and their mysteries upon a woman,
sisters are the mainstays of her life.

After more than 50 years of living in this world,
here is what I've learned:

THIS SAYS IT ALL:
Time passes.
Life happens.
Distance separates.
Children grow up.
Jobs come and go.
Love waxes and wanes.
Men don't do what they're supposed to do.
Hearts break.
Parents die.
Colleagues forget favors.
Careers end.

BUT.........

Sisters are there, no matter how much time

and how many miles are between you.

A girl friend is never farther away
than needing her can reach.
When you have to walk that lonesome valley and you
have to walk it by yourself, the women in your life
will be on the valley's rim, cheering you on,
praying for you, pulling for you, intervening on
your behalf, and waiting with open arms at the
valley's end.

Sometimes, they will even break the rules and walk
beside you....Or come in and carry you out.

Girlfriends, daughters, granddaughters,
daughters-in-law, sisters, sisters-in-law, Mothers,
Grandmothers, aunties, nieces, cousins, and extended
family: all bless our life!

The world wouldn't be the same without women, and
neither would I. When we began this adventure called
womanhood, we had no idea of the incredible joys or
sorrows that lay ahead. Nor did we know how much we would need each other.

Indulge In Simple Pleasures

Know your pleasures.  Embrace in sensual gratification.  List your delights ... and keep that list handy!

The school called today, Brooke is really sick.  At 3:00 a.m. she woke up, her chest and back hurt, a little Advil and she was fine when I dropped her off at school.

By 11:00 a.m. her lips were white, her body shaking from chills, and her chest and back being the main cause of her pain. On the way to pick her up, I was able to get an 11:30 a.m. appointment with her pediatrician. Chest pain and back pain are not symptoms I know how to treat.

She was pale, weak, and visibly shaking with chills at the doctors office.  No fever. No cold symptoms leading up to this. Nothing.

"We are going to do an EKG on Brooke." Check her heart?  The nurse is prepping her, I tap into girlfriend prayer warrior power via text message!

It took over a 1/2 hour for the doctor to come back into the examination room. Brooke was shaking so badly, I covered her with my coat and pulled her close to me. She fell asleep for probably 20 minutes. 

The EKG was fine.  Thank God!  Off to Stat Care for a chest xray to rule out pneumonia. We were home by 3:00 p.m., still no test results.

I'm drained.  I need coffee and a little food. Really I wasn't hungry, just genuinely worn out.

Brooke is set up and comfy on the couch. I curl up on the chair with a blanket, I need a nap!

The nap wasn't enough. I needed something to feel good.  I tied up my hair, filled the tub as deep as it would go, lit my favorite candle, and slid into water so HOT it made my skin tingle.

Relaxed.  Rejuvenated.  Refreshed.  As much as I could be.

Know your pleasures.  Embrace in sensual gratification.  List your delights ... and keep that list handy!

When under extreme pressure, I don't often remember the simple pleasures in life that bring me momentary satisfaction. What can I do, for me, that makes me happy?

A hot bath with candles. A romantic comedy by the fireplace. A glass of wine and a good book.  Laughing with friends.  Montrose Sushi roll at Wasabi.  A good workout.  A massage.  That needed haircut.  Coloring my hair.  A relaxing pedicure.  A cup of coffee and a favorite dessert.  Cold Stone Creamery's Dark Chocolate Peppermint ice cream.  A spa treatment.  A girl friend vacation.  Soaking up the sunshine. A walk in the park.  Flowers and walking in gardens.  A candlelit dinner.  Catching up with a friend.  An espresso martini.

Know your delights. Know when you need to indulge in simple pleasures.

 

"911 ... HOLY SPIRIT!!"

Last night I am laying in bed reading.  I love routine.  I remember I forgot to listen to a voicemail on my BlackBerry.

I put in my voicemail pass code to hear that I have a voicemail that is about to expire, that I had to listen to first. I have 5 voicemails “saved” on my BlackBerry.  Voicemails that make me happy.

It was Billy’s. He left me a happy, full of life message, that wound down to a warm and loving, “I love you darlin and I will talk to you in the morning.”

I know he loved me.  I don’t know what crept into our relationship so silently that it destroyed love and our promised future. I have a pretty solid guess. I am praying.

It has been 5 days since I have heard from Billy, by phone call or text. I listened to his message again. I love him. And guess what?  I just feel like reminding him.

So, I text, “I love you and I still believe you were 110% worth the wait!  xo”  A comment I said often to him.

I hit “send” … panic set in!  I actually said out loud, “911 … HOLY SPIRIT, GET TO BILLY … QUICK!”  I need divine intervention.  I needed his hard heart softened.  I needed my message of love to hit the right spot in his heart. 

911 … Holy Spirit?!  Who says that?!  Where did THAT come from?  I’m a “Dear God” kinda girl.  Never have I called on the Holy Spirit! 

My cat, Mocha, was laying on my stomach in bed, this is the only time anyone is allowed to hold her.  Her terms.  Her conditions.  I told my cat what I just did and I started laughing. 

It felt good to laugh. I’m prone to irrational behavior at times, but “911 … Holy Spirit?”

I laid there in bed, my mind racing.  Did my text read as I intended?  I better double check it.

Yep, it read exactly how I wanted it to come across.  Then I looked at the time … 9:11 p.m.  What a witty God we have!  Thank you for the reminder that You were there. 

This fight isn’t mine to handle. It is a battle only to be won - in prayer.

If I fight for anything, may it be faith, hope, and love.

Turtle Dove

"There is a time for every thing and a season for every activity under the heaven" (Ecclesiastes 3:1 NIV).

May 20, 2009, Sharon Jaynes, Girlfriends in God, wrote a daily message where she told her personal story of a mother dove. 

Last week, when I was going through my on-line documents, I found this saved in the wrong place.  It wasn’t put in my “For My Girls” file that I intended, rather saved as an individual document.  That was strange, I have never done that before.  That was in 2009.

I re-read this story … it make sense now.  An answer from God in an unlikely place:

A few years ago, I fell in love with a beach cottage named "Barb's Folly."  I adored the designer beach décor of periwinkle blue, yellow stripes and floral, the screened in porch that hugged the back of the house, the inviting dark green rocking chairs, and the weather worn dock jutting out over the lazy canal.  As if imported from England, a six-foot square of grass was nestled in one corner of the yard framed by a white picket fence.  The secret garden was complete with fuchsia myrtle bushes in full bloom, a beckoning weathered bench, and a cozy bird house with a half dozen portals.  Seemingly, out of place, owners had transplanted a palm tree just inches from the second story screened in porch and encircled by the wooden steps that led to the dock.


On our first night at "Barb's Folly", we rocked on the porch and watched fire flies dance on the moonlit canal.  As if to light a lone actor on a stage, a moonbeam fell across the palm tree and revealed a gentle stirring in its plume.  When I moved closer, I discovered a turtledove had built her nest at the top of the thatched tree trunk, where the palm branches sprouted upward.  Because we were on the second story, we were at eye level with Mrs. Turtle Dove.  As I moved closer to her, she didn't budge, but sat steadfast in her perch.


Early the next morning, before the rest of the house guests stirred, I went on the porch to spend some time with God.  Mrs. Turtle Dove was there to greet me.  I watched her.  She watched me.  Our eyes locked. We both blinked.  A few moments later, Mr. Turtle Dove flew in and perched on the nearby railing.  The couple exchanged coos and then he flew over to his beloved.  When she stood up to welcome him, I noticed two tiny eggs peeking out from under the stubble.  It seems this was Mother's Morning Out and Daddy bird was here to watch over the soon to be little ones.  The momma bird flew away and daddy took over the incubation and protection of their eggs.  After a brief time, the momma bird returned and daddy bird went off to work for the rest of the day.


During our entire vacation, this momma bird did one thing and one thing only, she rested in the palm, warming and protecting her two tiny charges.  On the afternoon when a violent storm blew through with loud claps of thunder, crackling flashes of lightening, and pelting sheets of rain, she sat undaunted by the storm and unmoved as the trees bent in the nautical winds.  When the children ran up and down the stairs inches from her nest and leaned over the railing to get a better took, she appeared unalarmed by the stir of activity.  While other birds such as cranes, pelicans and seagulls performed great feats, swooped gracefully into the water, and strutted about parading their showy display, her feathers were not ruffled but continued undeterred in her calling.


On the last morning of our vacation, I was enjoying a final cup of coffee on the back porch and once again relishing in quiet time with God and His creation.  Of course, Mrs. Turtle Dove was there to join me.


"God," I asked, "I know You put this bird here for a reason. What do you want me to learn from watching her this week?  I don't want to miss it."


Then God spoke to my heart.  It was contentment.  I was watching a picture of contentment in fulfilling God's call.  She was doing what God had made her to do for this season of her life, and she was intent and content in doing it.  Regardless of the storms, regardless of what seemingly showy birds were doing, regardless of the endless stream of activity passing by her nest, regardless of the stares or others, she was unmoved from her task.


"Is that it, Lord?  Is that what You want me to see?"


Just as I prayed those words, Mr. Turtle Dove flew in for his daily visit.  When his lady dove stood up to greet him, I noticed a piece of eggshell attached to her leg.  She flew away with much excitement and then I noticed a change in her nest.  There lay two tiny downy hatchlings.  The eggs had hatched and it was as if God was saying to me, "Yes, Sharon. That's it.  This has been my gift to you this week.  Through my creation, you have seen a contented mother and the results of her commitment.  You do what I've called you to do.  Rest in the palm -- of my hand.  Don't get distracted by the world around you: the storms of life, the endless stream of activity, and other seemingly more glamorous "birds."  Be relentless in your call.  In due time, I will cause your "eggs to hatch" and all too soon they will leave the nest.


This is where I am right now.  At home.  The storms have hit hard. 

I want to have fun again.  I want to go out.  My friends call with fun plans, it isn’t in me. Home is where I want to be right now. 

This season in life will pass. I’m glad its winter. Winter is the season of my heart right now.  I long to see a crocus push its way through the snow. I long for the season of spring.  I long for spring in my heart.

She Twirled in The Mirror

Brooke smiled, posed, and twirled in the mirror, because that is what little princesses are supposed to do.

She was excited and I was relieved.  She felt beautiful and she was.



Her date, Uncle Jason, arrived.  A memory was captured.

Brooke's first daddy-needed date, Jason's 1st and only father/daugther dance. They looked wonderful.

There is something so special about helping your little girl dry her hair, slip into her dress, put on a little lipstick for a hint of color, and the moments shared in preparation of a magical evening.

I'm snapping pictures, telling her how beautiful she looks.  As she walked down the driveway, departing for the dance, the emotions of this moment ... the 1st of many ... her daddy should have shared ... came over me.

Brooke came home happy.  The dance was a success. Uncle Jason was a perfect date.  I knew he would be.







Fervently

I love the word fervently.  It is my new favorite word.

Dictionary.com defines this as “intensely passionate.”  I love passion and adding intensely to it makes it even better!

I love the synonyms of fervent:  Ecstatic, impassioned, intense, animated, emotional, and fiery.  These are the strong emotions to loving passionately and fighting passionately, which I have always thought of about myself.

Fervently is my prayer life now, I’ve mentioned this before. Storms of life are a constant and familiar companion. I used to think it was because of my choices, I have more than paid my dues. Now, I believe it is just my plan in life.

This last month has been rough. The death of Brooke’s dad was life changing. My relationship with Billy, the one I deeply loved and planned on forever with, ended … blindsided, again … it hurts to breathe.  Four years of someone being in prison on stalking charges, released on January 2^nd … fear, am I safe?  Let’s sprinkle in here the financial impact of the loss of child-support, down to bare necessities.  My parents are snowbirds, no help with my kids. Did I mention I wrecked my car yesterday?

Broken hearts need mended. Winter has become the season of my heart.  Everything is cold and numb. Spring, where are you?

When I think logically of all that has been lost this past month, I feel I am due and justified for a meltdown. Oh, there have been tears and insomnia … thank God for girl friends!  However, I feel a strange calm.  Like a tsunami wave that wants to drown me, won’t. 

“I have been driven many times to my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go.” ~ Abraham Lincoln 

This is a good place.  This is where I am now.

Fervently.  To love passionately.  To fight passionately.  To pray passionately.  I’m thankful for the intensely passionate that is still in me.   

  

Father/Daughter Dance

My little brother, Jason, called me last night … Not so little at 6’8” and 250 lbs, but no matter what size they become, in his mind, he is convinced I am still the BIG sister. That is years of convincing at its best! O=)

Anyway, Jason called to get the details of the Father/Daughter Dance tonight.

I have dreaded tonight for weeks. The Father/Daughter Dance and Brooke’s dad just died. Why does this night haunt me and why do I dread it so much?  I’ve had to search my heart and have realized, it has been only one month since Keith’s death and this is the first of countless events that she will need a dad-replacement, a father figure, a male role model.

Keith’s death is too fresh to face this needed reality now.

Keith has taken Brooke to the father/daughter dance every year, until tonight. He was always the perfect date!  Dressed to the nine’s, loved to dance, super personality, and made every year special for Brooke.

Tonight is her last father/daughter dance … until her wedding day. Father/daughter dances end in 5^th grade.

I’m thankful for the men in my life and my daughter’s lives that are so willing to step up, step in, and fill the void.

Back to the phone call … my brother calls to cover all the bases.  Confirm the time to pick Brooke up … check.  Will there be food (ha … such a guy!)?  Will she dance?  Etc. 

He asks me, “Am I supposed to be nervous?”  I say, “Not at all!”  Then he asks me why he feels so nervous?  I replied, “Jason, this is your first and only father/daughter dance ever.” 

My brother has only my nephew, Nathan. I think that was a sweet confession on his part.

Tonight I will dress Brooke up to look like a princess. My heart will be breaking.

Death Certificate

I picked up Keith’s death certificate yesterday afternoon; they had his birth date wrong on the certificate.  How does that happen? I don’t care if he isn’t alive, it would be like having a birth certificate with the wrong date. It was listed as April 9, 1062 not his true birth date of April 21, 1962. 

Brooke’s dad died on Sunday, December 19, 2010.

Let me back up … December 19, 2010, just a few days before this past Christmas, I was standing in my living room looking out the window watching my youngest daughter, Brooke, 11 years old, playing in the snow with her friends.  I answered a phone call that was a friend of her dad's who said something bad had happened. Time slowed down and I can remember listening and hearing my own thoughts in my head ... looking at my daughter play on a beautiful winter day while a few thoughts of what it could be that entered my mind. Jail?  What did he do now?  How did he get into trouble? 

Keith is dead.  Blind-sided!  What?  No … I'm not prepared for this, this isn't happening … I asked "what happened" in a numb state of mind?  He killed himself.  This call must be a bad joke, because Keith is happy-go-lucky, life of the party, too selfish to do some thing like this!  I'm watching Brooke playing out the window and my heart isn't prepared for this, for the future and for what the next moments will bring. I ask again, "how?" He hung himself.  Nausea and a wave of pain overwhelmed me.  Thank God I was in my home alone for that 10 minutes, before Brooke, to handle my own emotions.

I met Keith on May 16, 1997, two days after my divorce.  As bad as it sounds, I fell wildly in love and felt "alive" for the first time in my life at 27 years old.  Our relationship spanned 8 years and we have Brooke.

After about 10 minutes after the phone call … I'm guessing it is about 10 minutes, really I have no idea what timeframe had passed … Brooke comes in the house.  She knows something is desperately wrong and I am trying to get her out of her snowsuit and boots.  There must be a difference between regular healthy tears, tears that a little girl knows something bad has happened to where panic sets in.

I had to say the unthinkable to my daughter, 11 years old, your dad has died. The sound of pain my daughter expelled and the moments that followed isn't what we are prepared for in life.  They are sounds you can't describe, the sounds of being overcome by pain and pure grief in its most raw moment.

Christmas came and went in a fog of pain.

Keith’s birthdate on his death certificate will be fixed.

In loving memory, April 21, 1962 - December 19, 2010.



The Magical Highlighter … For My Girls

THE MAGICAL HIGHLIGHTER

I like to read. I enjoy reading books that stretch my mind, to learn and grow as a person, mostly for relaxation and enjoyment.  Many of my Christian books I have read a few times over.

There is a difference when I read, when I search for answers. The words stand out boldly, as if they were highlighted, as if I had never read it before.

That is were I am in life.  I’m reading to search for answers.  I’m reading to fill an empty void in my life and in my heart.

What I have learned recently is that when I am seeking those answers, they jump out at me as if an answer from God, that speaks straight to my heart. It is my spiritual highlighter, and He is the The Magical Highlighter in my life.

FOR MY GIRLS

May 22, 2009, almost two years ago, I began capturing a collection of daily encouragements that have touched my heart with advice and lessons that I want my girls, Mariah & Brooke, to have when I am no longer here, until we are together again in Heaven.

Everyday I receive 3 daily inspirational emails (Girlfriends in God, Encouragement for Today, and Today’s Word with Joel & Victoria Osteen) that I begin my day in the office with along with a cup of coffee. Whatever issues I am facing, His answers come to me in a message, like a magical highlighter across the email of that very subject. 

As I reflect on my life, all my experiences and sagas taught me that He was there, He is there, and He will be there.  It is true, when you seek Him, you will find Him! 

My collection is easily the size of a large book now. I have it saved in a file on my computer titled, “For My Girls.” 

The title of my blog, “The Magical Highlighter … For My Girls” is to capture life with them, for them, and for me.

A Fine Line

I have always said, there is a fine line between total honesty and personal privacy. 


I also believe there is a fine line between trusting God by totally accepting what happens in my life is for my plan and becoming a prayer warrior fervently praying to petition and plea to God while declaring an all out prayer battle against spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms ... fought in the only place where it can be won - in prayer.


I have always been a prayer warrior, but I have recently learned the difference between being a prayer warrior ... offering up millions of prayers and letting go ... to praying fervently.  There is a difference.  Fervently to me means, I'm not going to stop praying.  Praying has power and maybe fervently is the magic behind those powers when not giving up.


What if ... I didn't just let go of difficult situations?  What if ... I stood my ground, sought out God as desperately as I do now ... back then?  What if ... I hold the key to moving God's mighty hand through prayer and dedication versus accepting and moving on?


When I pray fervently, I see change.  What if ... I don't stop?  Will it break this cycle in my life?