Praise to the God of all Comfort: June 2017

Monday, June 26, 2017

conquering fears

So I conquered some pretty big fears this past week and I want to remember that feeling, so I thought I would attempt to write about it...

The kids and I drove down to San Diego last weekend. Having just returned from our big trip to Washington DC only about two weeks ago, we then turned around and headed out on this road trip, about 5 1/2 hours south of home. I had some anxiety about the trip for several reasons: 1. Driving in new cities makes me nervous - and San Diego is new to me. 2. I have never stayed in a hotel without another adult (with kids only) and that idea made me nervous. 3. I was so busy the week before our trip (with all of Kate's ballet rehearsals and performances) that I didn't plan our trip ahead of time - and spontaneous trips make me nervous.

But despite my fears, we headed out because Charlie was signed up for the TAPS SoCal Good Grief Camp Out that week and he was one very excited boy about going to that camp! I was not about to let my personal fears keep him from that opportunity. So we went - and we had an amazing time in San Diego!

The first fear I had to conquer was stopping at the Gaviota rest stop on the drive down. It is the only bathroom stop (or really the only stop) between Buellton and Santa Barbara - and inevitably a child needed to stop... The parking lot of that rest stop is where I was when I realized Ryan was no longer alive. I had pulled over there to talk to the commander on the phone (I had been on my way to the Santa Barbara Airport to fly back to Ryan in Texas when the commander called) and I knew from the man's voice that Ryan was not okay. I also knew I could only be told in person that Ryan was dead (that is how the military does it), so when he could not tell me over the phone if Ryan was okay and he told me to turn around and go be with my family until they could send someone to me, I knew. I knew and my world fell apart right there at that stupid rest stop. Shock and fear and the darkest moments of my life began right there, sitting in my car at that horrible rest stop. I used to tear up and cry or tense up with such fear just driving through the Gaviota Pass - it is what we refer to as a "grief trigger." Slowly it got easier and I remember the day when I could finally drive through that area without it really affecting me. But I kind of told myself I would never ever pull into that rest stop parking lot ever again. I guess I thought a painful sorrow or a fall into that horrible pit of despair that seems too deep to crawl back out of would happen if I did. But, alas, a child needed to potty, and so we stopped. And it was okay. It really was okay. We parked, used said bathroom, and continued on our way and I realized that that fear is gone now. I am not going to let some random parking lot control my emotions or fill me with anxiety. So that was a fear I unexpectedly conquered as we left on our trip.

And actually if I back up a little bit to a few days before our road trip, I made it through another fear or grief trigger last week. I had gone hiking with a friend and got poison oak SO bad on both of my arms and legs. I was pretty miserable. But the worst was that the rash broke out even in between my fingers and I had to take my rings off. For those of you close to me, you may have noticed I took my weddings rings off sometime before Thanksgiving of last year. I debated (and cried many tears) over what or when or if I would ever take my wedding rings off. But really the decision came down to the fact that I was exhausted from everyone I met asking me about my husband. Having moved to California, the first thing most people would ask is if we were military and what my husband did. I got so tired from having to explain myself over and over again to everyone from the eye doctor to the mailman to the dryer repairman that I decided to take my wedding rings off just to try to curb some of the questioning. Last fall I was still so heavy in grief that I just needed a break from telling my story to every single person. I had isolated myself from a lot of people and those I was brave enough to be around, I really just wanted them to just let me pretend to be normal, even if I didn't feel I was. So taking off my wedding rings did help stop a little bit of others assuming it was okay to ask about my husband. But what I did at that time was put Ryan's wedding band on my right hand (his ring fit my right but not my left), along with my anniversary band. I figured it was my way of carrying Ryan with me but without the exhaustion of wearing my wedding rings when, as much as I hated it, I am not married anymore. But with the poison oak, I had to remove all rings last week to deal with the itchy rash and for some reason, having to go ringless was kind of scary. I guess I realized though that I hold onto Ryan in my heart and treasure our 15 years of marriage, regardless of whether I have a symbol of that love on either of my hands. I don't yet know what I will do when the poison oak does clear up (it takes a few weeks, ugh!), but whatever feels right in regards to rings will be the right thing to do...

The next fear I conquered was just taking a vacation type trip alone with the kids in general, especially to a new area. We always took road trips together as a family and although I would help navigate, I always felt a sense of security knowing that Ryan had such an innate sense of direction. There was a huge fear knowing that security net was not there for me this time. But armed with my gps, I realized I can do this myself. I could navigate Los Angeles freeways, watch for traffic and adjust my route, and find my way to and around the San Diego area. I realized I know the Southern California area better than I thought I did and that I have experience from learning DC or San Antonio or Pensacola to draw from. So I made the drive down, found the marine base where Charlie caught his bus to camp, and I found the hotel I had booked. Kate and I checked into the hotel for a "girls week" while Charlie was at camp and I felt both a sense of accomplishment for having done all of that and a huge sense of thankfulness to God for making all of our travels so smooth.

Letting Charlie leave for three nights, away from me, was another big milestone. Charlie had never been away from me overnight, except when he had been Cub Scout camping - and even then he had always been with either his daddy or his uncle. So putting my little man on a bus with strangers was really, really difficult for me! Okay, they were not random strangers - they were the sweet, caring, and amazing staff members of the TAPS organization, but still they were not people I knew well individually... So I worried at drop off. A lot. And then I realized I needed to give this to God and let it go. Seeing Charlie so excited to go on this adventure helped me to let go and trust that my Heavenly Father would watch over my little boy those three days, just as He was watching over me down there in San Diego.

Kate and I spent our "girl days" together visiting Coronado Island, going to the beach, shopping, exploring, and we went to the movies to see Wonder Woman. I actually left the movie feeling even more empowered, like a warrior, for conquering so many of my fears. Ephesians 6:13-18 come to mind! "Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place,and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people." I had put on my armor of God this week, was praying in the Spirit, and I was not going to let the enemy's fears, doubts, or sorrows get in my way!

One final grief trigger I will mention that I overcame last week was eating an In'n'Out burger. I know that may sound odd... But I happen to know that Ryan's last meal was at In'n'Out (the one in San Antonio, Texas) and so for the last year I have been unable to even think about eating there. Even driving past the restaurant, which was always a favorite of Ryan and mine, made me feel queasy. But while we were down South, Kate was being picky one evening about what to eat and then said she really felt like having an In'n'Out grilled cheese (yes, I know it is weird that she does not eat hamburgers... but she loves her grilled cheeses). There was one near where we were staying and I was really too exhausted that evening to come up with another dinner plan, so that is where we went. And, again, it was okay. We ordered our burgers (or one burger and one grilled cheese), took them back to the hotel, and actually a friend called me on the phone while I was eating and that distracted me enough that I did not even fully realize what I was eating until I was almost done with the burger. And it was okay. Again, I am not going to let these little fears control me. I have been slowly chipping away and getting rid of the grief triggers that a year ago would have completely paralyzed me in fear or sorrow. The pain of missing Ryan will always remain, but as the grief triggers are slowly rooted out, what gets left behind are the sweet and happy memories that I cling to. And there is a sadness that surrounds those memories, knowing they are just that - memories. But the raw and intense pain of being ambushed by a grief trigger begins to lift. It is like the pain "softens" over time - it is still completely there and I suspect always, always will be, but it does not control me or paralyze me very often anymore. It is almost hard to explain - I would never ever tell someone fresh in their grief that over time their grief will lessen or that time heals those wounds. I do not think either of those statements are true. But what is true is that you learn to live with the grief and that sorrow becomes a familiar part of you. You begin to stop fearing the sadness and you embrace it and that softens the intensity of it all. And God is SO good to comfort us through that beautiful process.

Another realization I had last week was that I love being around people. I am by nature extremely introverted and I absolutely need my quiet time and my alone time to recharge. Daily. But I also love to be around others. I am always so blessed by friendships and relationships. I had not planned to do anything other than hang out with my daughter while Charlie was at camp, but while we were down in Southern California a couple of friends I had not seen in years contacted me and asked if we could meet up, even just for a quick hug and to catch up. I had spent the most of the last half of 2016 pretty much avoiding as many people as I could because my emotions were so raw and I was just too exhausted and scared to try to interact with others. Then I spent the first half of 2017 slowly stepping out and making new friends in our new home here in California. And I have been SO blessed by those friendships that I realized I do not want to "hermit" in my grief anymore. In fact I want real, authentic relationships with those around me - being brave enough to be myself, ugly grief and scars and all, because that is where we bless each other. So I met up with these precious ladies I went to high school with and was so blessed by our time catching up together! And I also got together with one of my most precious friends from Washington DC that is now stationed in California. Our daughters are BFFs and seeing the two girls reunited and giggling together just makes my heart so happy every time. I think spending time with each of these friends this past weekend just reinforced to me what my heart was already telling me - I love spending time with others and listening to others' stories and sharing my heart with others. I am so blessed by the presence of friends and so incredibly thankful for those precious souls that God has placed in my life. Life is just too short for me to spend it worrying about whether I am "ready" to interact with others or whether I am too "exhausted" to make the effort to be around others. I have a newfound confidence that God wants us to be real and authentic and involved in each other's lives. I think we truly bless each other when we are brave enough to do that.

Coronado Island Beach

Charlie returning from camp

Teach Us, Almighty Father

I ran across this beautiful prayer written by Jane Austen. I never knew she wrote such prayers but apparently she composed several to be used by her family and they are lovely. Enjoy! :)

"Teach us, Almighty Father, that we may feel the importance of every day, and every hour as it passes, and earnestly strive to make a better use of what thy goodness may yet bestow on us, than we have done of the time past.
Give us grace to endeavour after a truly Christian spirit to seek to attain that temper of forbearance and patience of which our blessed Saviour has set us the highest example; and which, while it prepares us for the spiritual happiness of the life to come, will secure to us the best enjoyment of what this world can give. Incline us oh God! to think humbly of ourselves, to be severe only in the examination of our own conduct, to consider our fellow-creatures with kindness, and to judge of all they say and do with that charity which we would desire from them ourselves.
We thank thee with all our hearts for every gracious dispensation, for all the blessings that have attended our lives, for every hour of safety, health and peace, of domestic comfort and innocent enjoyment. We feel that we have been blessed far beyond any thing that we have deserved; and though we cannot but pray for a continuance of all these mercies, we acknowledge our unworthiness of them and implore thee to pardon the presumption of our desires.
May thy mercy be extended over all mankind, bringing the ignorant to the knowledge of thy truth, awakening the impenitent, touching the hardened. Look with compassion upon the afflicted of every condition, assuage the pangs of disease, comfort the broken in spirit.
More particularly do we pray for the safety and welfare of our own family and friends wheresoever dispersed, beseeching thee to avert from them all material and lasting evil of body or mind; and may we by the assistance of thy holy spirit so conduct ourselves on earth as to secure an eternity of happiness with each other in thy heavenly kingdom. Grant this most merciful Father, for the sake of our blessed Saviour in whose holy name and words we further address thee.
Our Father which are in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever.
Amen."

Friday, June 2, 2017

it's June again

Today is Friday, June 2, 2017 and my emotions are just all over the place. I woke up early this morning (recovering from east coast jet lag) and my children are still sound asleep so I thought I would try to "write" for a bit in order to sort through all the thoughts running wild through my head. We just flew back to California yesterday, June 1st, after a week in Washington DC. It was an amazing week. The kids and I (and my sister) attended the annual National Military Survivors Seminar and Good Grief Camp through TAPS (Tragedy Assistance Program for Survivors). It was such a great experience. We arrived in DC on Thursday of last week and spent the early afternoon down on the National Mall visiting all the familiar places from when we lived there (2012-2015). It was such a surreal feeling for me to feel "at home" back in DC but also to realize that Ryan was not with us. I could pretend I was just down on the mall exploring monuments and museums like the kids and I did all the time while Ryan was at work, but I also knew in my heart the reality that I was returning to one of those places full of so many memories that are now part of my past. Regardless, the feeling of driving into DC on Thursday was one of contentment and excitement. Something about that city will always, always feel like home to me.

Thursday evening we arrived at the hotel where the TAPS seminar was being held for the weekend. I was overwhelmed by the reception we received. This huge hotel in Arlington was literally taken over by the TAPS organization. Every guest was a military family survivor and TAPS staff, personnel, huggers, and signs were everywhere. TAPS workers are all military loss surivors as well. Just to give you a mental picture, even the hotel key and the elevator floor were covered in the TAPS logos. People were at the door wearing buttons that said "I am a hugger" and everywhere we went someone was there to ask how we were doing and what we needed. Each person at the seminar is given a lanyard to wear with their branch of service, relationship to their loved one, and a photo button to pin on. So, for example, when I stepped into an elevator with some random stranger, I could immediately see that the other person was a spouse or parent of someone - and see that person's picture. So when others smiled at me or I smiled at them, it meant something - it was a sign of comfort. I could step in an elevator and say, "when did you lose your husband?" or "what was your son's name?" and an instant bond was formed. It was wonderful to step into my hotel hallway and have someone randomly say something to me about my Ryan. How I love to hear about him and talk about him.  But we checked in that Thursday night, received all our "TAPS gear," our weekend schedule, and then retreated to our room feeling kind of overwhelmed by the emotions of it all.

Friday morning began by dropping the children off at their Good Grief Camps. I was amazed to find out that each child was paired with their own mentor buddy for the weekend. These mentors are either active duty military members or former TAPS kids that have now grown up and return to mentor new TAPS kids - and they all volunteer their time the whole weekend just to love on and play with the children attending camp. The mentors stay with their mentee all weekend in their small groups, where the kids meet together to do grief work with licensed counselors, play games, do crafts, take field trips into DC, attend field day, eat together, and just spend a whole weekend celebrating the loved ones they have lost together. There was a "family tree" in the upper lobby of the hotel with all the pictures of the dads, moms, brothers, sisters, and family members of those at the seminar that died while serving. We found Ryan's picture on the tree and I saw Charlie's eyes get really big as he realized just how many pictures were up there and that all the kids he was spending the weekend with had all lost their dads (or moms or siblings). In fact, Charlie's mentor was a former mentee and had lost his dad. Katherine's mentor was a sweet lady currently on active duty. Both children's small group leaders where licensed marriage, family, and grief therapists, Kate's was from the DC area and Charlie's from Camp Pendleton in California.

After the kids were dropped off at camp, I attended the "survivors of suicide meet and greet session." I was humbled, sorrowed, and also comforted to meet these other widows and parents from all over the United States. The pain they felt is one we all share. And yet there was a comfort to be surrounded by those who "get it" and have similar stories. I understand now why they have that meet and greet the very first morning, because throughout the weekend when I would look for a table to sit at during lunch or dinner, I would seek out the familiar faces from that session (and vice versa) and I got to know some other widows who are walking the same journey I am - of "only" parenting their military children through grief after the loss of their husband to suicide. Military wives are a unique set of women who have the capacity to love fiercely and quickly, because we have lived a life that demands we do that before we pick and up and move again. But at these TAPS events, I see these military widows who have an even more beautiful perspective. Each of us are from different states, different backgrounds, and had different personalities, but we all share the common thread of that military life that ended so abruptly, followed by the shock, pain, and anguish of putting together the pieces left behind. The stories and the pain and the healing were all so familiar - these other ladies became my family instantly. TAPS mottos is "you are not alone," and goodness, what a feeling it is to experience that and know it.

I won't go into too much detail about the weekend, other than to say I was blessed. We met so many "important" people, Generals, Chiefs of Staff, the US Secretary of Defense, chef Robert Irvine - but what was most impressive was the compassion everyone showed. Everyone took the time to ask how each person was doing and listen to each others stories. And it shocked me how well my children did. Katherine initially was not dropped off at camp, I am sure she was fearful about what kind of emotions it would evoke while surrounded by complete strangers - I get that. I get that. But she fully participated and even seemed to enjoy herself. I think it was more healing for her than my teenager is going to let me know. ;) Charlie, however, took to it in a way I did not expect.  My normally clingy little guy woke up Saturday and Sunday mornings demanding we get going to breakfast so he wouldn't be late for his camp. He loved every moment of it in a way I didn't expect. I get tears in my eyes when I think about how much this camp meant to my children - a safe place to celebrate and remember their daddy, with other children struggling to do the same, while mentors and counselors loved them, hugged them, played with them, and helped them express their feelings and their grief through games, art, music, and even yoga. And for me, it was amazingly healing to go to my sessions, travel through DC, meet other wives, and just have a safe place with people who fully and completely get it all. I found myself crying at random times - once during lunch when the music playing just moved me to tears and I couldn't stop the bawling - and the other women at my table nodded and said they knew exactly how I felt and handed me tissues. A few ladies who have done this annual event before made sure to tell me that they were just like that their first event too and hugged me. Other times I found myself laughing uncontrollably out of sheer joy. One late evening after the adults had finished their evening dinner banquet we were waiting for the kids' buses to return to the hotel from their field day and we had about an hour to just wait. I found myself at a table (at the bar in the lobby, even though I don't drink) with the other widows I had gotten to know and we were just laughing and sharing stories together, a little bit giddy from lack of sleep and enjoying being "childless" for an evening, knowing our children were in good hands. It was so amazing to just hear others' frustrations, pains, sorrows, and find a way to laugh about it all. Knowing we are not alone in this journey is an amazing feeling.

Monday was Memorial Day. Through TAPS, we were able to attend the wreath laying and presidential address at Arlington National Cemetery. It was a beautiful tribute, complete with the 21-gun salute and the playing of Taps, both of which the Air Force Honor Guard did for Ryan at his funeral. I had not heard the 21 guns or that tune since Ryan's funeral almost a year ago, so it brought tears to my eyes. The gunfire brought the tears to the surface and I lost it when the bugle started playing. I was surrounded by Gold Star families from TAPS, that know those symbols all too well, so there was not a dry eye in my section. But it was a memorable way to spend Memorial Day and I am so thankful for that opportunity. Monday afternoon we went back to Bolling AFB, where we lived for three years while Ryan was assigned to WHCA. We drove through our old neighborhood, our house, and all the familiar sites there. I had thought that the weekend at the seminar and the Memorial Day ceremony would be the most emotional aspects for me, but I was wrong. Driving around Bolling AFB and past our house was by far the hardest. I am not entirely sure I was ready to do that yet but the kids wanted to, so we did. I had this urge to just walk into that house (that a Coast Guard family now obviously inhabits) and wait inside the door for Ryan to show up and hug me. I am crying as I type those words because that feeling was so strong and still in my heart. So many happy memories in that house, so many difficult memories. SO many memories. Luckily, after the little house detour, we headed for my children's favorite place on Bolling - the pool! We went to the base pool for the afternoon where families we love and adore that are still in the DC area met up with us there. It was wonderful seeing my children swimming, playing, and splashing with friends they had not seen in several years, just as if they were together yesterday. The resiliency and love that military children have amazes me. I loved having an afternoon to just lounge on a pool chair with my precious friends, while my children swam with theirs. So many of our summer hours were spend just like that over the years. And Charlie finally passed the Bolling swim test for the first time and earned the green band he so desperately wanted a few years ago! (Those of you who lived there with us know what I'm talking about! :)

Tuesday we went back down to the National Mall with some dear friends to stop in at some of the favorite museums my children have walked through dozens of times but wanted to re-see: the Hope Diamond, hall of gems, hall of meteorites, hall of fossils, the insect zoo, the Star Spangled banner, the movie hall, the First Lady's dresses, etc... (You can probably guess which of those were Kate's choices and which were Charlie's...). My children knew these museums like they know their own home and yet still wanted to go back through and see if anything had changed. The American History Museum moved Dorothy's ruby slippers and replaced them with Indiana Jones' hat and whip. My children have mixed feelings on whether they agree with that decision or not... :)   Tuesday night we drove up to Hotel Hershey in Hershey, Pennsylvania. My sister and I had planned this as a surprise for the kids. I really did not know how receptive my children would be to the weekend with TAPS and in their grief camps, so I figured if the whole weekend ended up being a miserable failure (which it wasn't!), that at least we would end the trip with some chocolate!

We had a great time in Hershey - the kids loved it and we ate way too much chocolate. The town literally smells like chocolate and the streetlamps are shaped like Hershey kisses. And Pennsylvania in the springtime is nothing short of gorgeous! It was a great way to end the week in DC. We flew out of Baltimore early Wednesday morning, June 1st. I did not realize when I booked our tickets to and from DC months ago that June 1st is also the day that Ryan, the kids, and I left Texas last year. June 1st we left our home in Texas for the last time to travel to California. One year ago we were arriving in California together, our last family vacation. We spend the first part of June visiting family, taking the kids to Universal Studios, and just having the best time. One year ago Ryan was making memories with us that he knew (but we did not know) were his last and his gift to us was the strength to pull all that together. June 1-10, 2016 were some of my happiest memories - of Ryan smiling and laughing and enjoying vacation time with his family. He seemed so happy those 10 days here in CA. How Ryan had the strength to do that for us, when struggling against the worst pain of his life hidden deep inside, I will not know on this side of heaven. June 10, 2016 was the last time I saw Ryan in person (we skyped between the 10th and 24th but the 10th was the last time I hugged him). I hugged Ryan good-bye at the Santa Maria airport - and I remember him fiercely hugging me, letting go, and saying he wished he could hold me one more time - I told him he would in just over a week and he didn't really answer. In hindsight, he was saying his final good-bye to me. A gift he gave to me.

So yesterday as our plane was landing at LAX and I was admiring the coastline as we drove up the coast from LA to "home," I was filled with emotions. I spend the last 15 years of my life living other places and feeling so homesick for California. Our trips here were always bittersweet, too short, and too far between. We would fly into CA and I would see the ocean and I instantly feeling calmed and happy to be visiting. I remember sobbing each time we left California over the years and Ryan would apologize for being the thing to take me away from "home," and I would explain to him that nothing was his fault. That wherever he was, was home. That I chose him, I chose this crazy military lifestyle, and I would always, always choose him again and again over living in CA - it just would be nice to have both. He understood the homesickness I felt inside, because he shared it too, I could see it in his eyes - he just did not express the outward emotions I did. So yesterday I had that same wave of emotion I have felt so many times upon "returning" to California, but this time not because my visit would be too short or too much time would pass between visits, but because I was returning "home" to a home the kids and I have built here.

I don't even really know how to process the emotions I feel today. There is a deep, deep sorrow about being able to live here without Ryan. There are years of emotional airport memories about times coming and going from our beloved California - the emotional months I stayed here in CA while Ryan was in the Middle East, the good-byes and the welcoming hugs to both Ryan and my extended family with each arrival and departure, drives up and down the central coast. Just so much to process. And the hardest part of it all was the fact that I boarded a plane in Baltimore and arrived off a plane in Los Angeles, and there was not a hello hug or a good-bye hug on either end - as Ryan was not on either end of those flights, like he would have been all those years past, and my extended family is now home, so there was not the emotion of leaving them or returning to them like I have had before. I just feel kind of lost today processing how I took a weeklong trip back to a memorable place, boarded flights like I've done so many times before but this time is so completely different, and it all happening on the one year anniversary of our last family trip together.  One year ago today I was leaving Texas and arriving back in CA for the "final" time, without even knowing I was. I know this is all part of my grief journey and that jet lag is probably complicating my emotions but goodness, God, please just protect and care for my precious aching heart today and this whole month of June as I process what happened a year ago in the wake of such a beautiful and precious weekend spent remembering Ryan and learning with others how to heal on this same journey we travel on. Joy and pain, all mixed together.