I am a different person than I was five years ago.
Heck, I'm a different person than I was a week ago.
One of the many gifts of life is that we are able to evolve, to grow, to create new experiences and memories. To take chances. To live.
Five years ago, a dear friend of mine had these gifts taken from her when her life was taken from her. We don't know how her life may have flourished over the last five years. I imagine she would still be teaching, enriching hundreds of lives. I imagine she would be the biggest cheerleader of her three children, watching them excel in their sports and academics. She would be strong in her faith. She would be a shining light. She would be all of these things and more.
I've spent countless moments over the last five years thinking about Susan and her gentle, sweet soul. I've tried to piece things together, and I've tried to find peace. I take great comfort in knowing her children are healthy and happy. But I still-quite deeply- feel her loss.
I recently have been wrestling with fear. There are a few things consuming my mind that keep me worried and anxious, and I haven't been sleeping very well. Today, I came across these words
"The honest truth is that we are really only meant to carry one day's worth of worry around with us...we know it's tempting to let your mind wander down the dark "what ifs"...but you've got to try with all you've got to shut those thoughts down. Be present in the moment and try not to let fear be your operator. Fear is a punk and will try and steal your joy from the present moment. The more you can focus on the today and the here and now the more your heart and mind is forced to be and stay present."- Jill and Kate
I couldn't help but think of Susan as I read these words. She was one of the bravest people I ever knew, but she lived her life with such passion and meaning. I have always said that I strive to be like her, and I know that those words were meant to find me today. I know that she would want me to set my fear aside and to live my life passionately. So to honor her, and to be the best me I can be, I will try my hardest. It is NOT easy, I know that, but hopefully with grace, and practice, I can do it.
As the years go by, I find it more challenging to write about Susan, to honor her in a way I feel gives her any sort of justice. But should their come a day I cannot find those words, there will never be a time I do not have her on my heart. She left an everlasting impact on me, even in the short time we knew one another. She continues to radiate light- I can feel it.
Self, and anyone else reading this, let's not live our lives in fear. It's too short for that. Let's embrace the changes, cling to the ones close to us, share our feelings, and be loud with our love. Susan would have. In many ways, she still does.
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Monday, January 9, 2017
Monday, January 11, 2016
Shine A Light On Me
I spent the first 24 years of my life thinking that murder was something that happened to the outside world. It was something I heard about on the news or on Law and Order. I never thought that it could happen within my world, in my hometown, in my St. Hugo Community. I never thought I would lose a friend to murder.
But in January 2012, I did. I lost a dear friend because she was killed. Perhaps it seems taboo for me to talk about, maybe telling people that I had a friend that died would be sufficient. But what good does that do, really? I choose to tell the truth, no matter how painful, shocking, or scary it may be.
Our St. Hugo Community was no stranger to loss. We had lost people before, all of whom were far too young. We'd lost people to cancer, heart attacks, accidents, and suicide. But never this. And it shook our entire world upside down. In the next few months to follow, we were woven together as tightly as we could possibly be. We held onto each other for support, to share tears, to vent our misunderstanding and our frustrations, to pray. It was really quite beautiful, how we became this stronger community through such a tragedy.
Now it's four years later. And while I can't speak for everyone, I know that many of us still feel the pain of that loss. A lot can change in four years, and a lot has changed. We've all grown up, in our own ways. We've had other celebrations and other losses. Some of us have moved away.
But the very beautiful thing about this community, and perhaps because of this tragedy, is we can always come back home. My biggest connector is my mom, as she is still a teacher at the school. Through her, and her past students and the parents of those students, I'm able to have a world of loving, compassionate, dependable people right at my fingertips. In any moment of need, I know that all I have to do is reach out, and someone will step in...or at least try. I am forever grateful for my mom for this connection. I may not be as active in the church as I once was, but I know that I can walk in on any given Sunday and feel the love. I know that it will always feel like home.
Susan was a very bright light in that home. And while I will never again see her smile or be able to have a cup of coffee with her, her light still shines. Every single person that knew her carries a little piece of her with them. She was such an influential, strong, beautiful person. I have no doubts that each of us who knew her strive to be just a little bit more like her.
To Susan, I miss you and sure wish we could talk in person. Your legacy lives on through your beautiful children and through each person who met you. May your heaven be full of coffee, shamrocks, the French language and hugs.
To everyone in the St. Hugo Community, my hope for you is that you always see the beauty, the grace, and the love that grows in abundance- and not just in the halls of the Church or the school. You don't have to be present on campus every day or even every week or month to know it's there. You can always go back home, even if it's just for a visit . I also hope for peace and protection for you and your families, and for gratitude for being such a huge part of my life, but more importantly in my mom's life.
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Saying Goodbye
Last week, we found out that my Aunt Ellen lost her battle to cancer. I was heartbroken. Ellen was a true gem, the kind of person that lit up a room, a woman with a heart of gold and a gentle soul. I know that these are the kinds of things you say about someone who has passed away, but it's all true for Ellen. She was special, period.
I never got to say goodbye. I knew that she was not doing well, she had entered into hospice care just a few days before. My plan was to write her a letter and drop it at her doorstep, since I knew that she wasn't doing well and may not be up for a visit. But I didn't write it in time. She passed away before I could follow through.
And so I spent the next few days feeling both sad of her loss and guilty that I did not get to say what I wanted to say to her.
Last night, I had a horrible dream about it. The dream was that I was at her funeral, except...she was there. And she came to me and told me that she was still alive, and that I could say goodbye. But I couldn't- the words just wouldn't come out. All I could do was cry.
I woke up feeling extra down, like I had missed my chance again.
And so that is why I have come to this blog, to say goodbye to our dear Aunt Ellen. I know a public blog post is not the same as a private, heartfelt letter, but it is my hope that these words will somehow make it to Ellen's Heaven.
It's no surprise that as a little girl I was drawn to Ellen. That's the kind of person she was- people wanted to be around her. They wanted to hear her jokes, her hearty laugh, and to grasp a piece of her kindness and wisdom to hold onto for themselves. We grew close on one of our trips to Florida- she kept me laughing the whole time. I once had a sleepover at her house, and I just remember feeling so special and loved around her. She took a deep interest in me, even though we had no blood relation. My favorite thing about her (and her two sisters) is how head over heels they were with my brother. They adored him (for good reason!) and they loved to embarrass him with hugs and kisses. I always laughed when Ellen and her sisters would seek him out in a room full of people. I remember watching them at his wedding, they had the absolute time of their lives.
The last time I saw Ellen was almost a year ago, at my Uncle Mike's funeral. She walked into the room, immediately found me and told me she had a present for me. It was a pack of napkins with a cute design on them. She had apparently seen them and thought of me. It was a small gift, but it meant something. She was thinking of me.
At that same funeral, my sister and I kept looking for "The Kissing Aunts". We so desperately needed the comfort of Mary Ann, Peg, and our sweet Ellen. All three of them are incredibly special women, and we just needed to be around them, to feel their warmth and love.
I'm a lucky girl to be surrounded by so many strong women in my life. Growing up I had many role models. Ellen was one of them. I admired her confidence, humor, zest, and passion. If I could go back, I would change a few things. I would make a point to connect with Ellen more. I would ensure she knew how loved she was by me and by my entire family.
Ellen, I know that wherever you are, you brought the party with you. I know that you are sprinkling that sunshine and smile. You left quite an impact on many hearts back here on Earth, and so many of us are better, sillier, more loving people because we knew you. You really were a gem, and I feel lucky that I was able to know you. I adored you, and I always will.
Moving forward, I want to make a point to tell people how deeply I love and appreciate them. I know, again, that is something everyone says, but we don't always follow through. But I don't want to lose anyone else without them knowing how special they are. Everyone should hear about the impact they have made on others lives. I don't know how we can get better at this, but we must.
My challenge for you, my friends, is to tell three people in your life that you love them. Right now.
Thank you for reading about my sweet Ellen. May she rest in peace.
I never got to say goodbye. I knew that she was not doing well, she had entered into hospice care just a few days before. My plan was to write her a letter and drop it at her doorstep, since I knew that she wasn't doing well and may not be up for a visit. But I didn't write it in time. She passed away before I could follow through.
And so I spent the next few days feeling both sad of her loss and guilty that I did not get to say what I wanted to say to her.
Last night, I had a horrible dream about it. The dream was that I was at her funeral, except...she was there. And she came to me and told me that she was still alive, and that I could say goodbye. But I couldn't- the words just wouldn't come out. All I could do was cry.
I woke up feeling extra down, like I had missed my chance again.
And so that is why I have come to this blog, to say goodbye to our dear Aunt Ellen. I know a public blog post is not the same as a private, heartfelt letter, but it is my hope that these words will somehow make it to Ellen's Heaven.
It's no surprise that as a little girl I was drawn to Ellen. That's the kind of person she was- people wanted to be around her. They wanted to hear her jokes, her hearty laugh, and to grasp a piece of her kindness and wisdom to hold onto for themselves. We grew close on one of our trips to Florida- she kept me laughing the whole time. I once had a sleepover at her house, and I just remember feeling so special and loved around her. She took a deep interest in me, even though we had no blood relation. My favorite thing about her (and her two sisters) is how head over heels they were with my brother. They adored him (for good reason!) and they loved to embarrass him with hugs and kisses. I always laughed when Ellen and her sisters would seek him out in a room full of people. I remember watching them at his wedding, they had the absolute time of their lives.
The last time I saw Ellen was almost a year ago, at my Uncle Mike's funeral. She walked into the room, immediately found me and told me she had a present for me. It was a pack of napkins with a cute design on them. She had apparently seen them and thought of me. It was a small gift, but it meant something. She was thinking of me.
At that same funeral, my sister and I kept looking for "The Kissing Aunts". We so desperately needed the comfort of Mary Ann, Peg, and our sweet Ellen. All three of them are incredibly special women, and we just needed to be around them, to feel their warmth and love.
I'm a lucky girl to be surrounded by so many strong women in my life. Growing up I had many role models. Ellen was one of them. I admired her confidence, humor, zest, and passion. If I could go back, I would change a few things. I would make a point to connect with Ellen more. I would ensure she knew how loved she was by me and by my entire family.
Ellen, I know that wherever you are, you brought the party with you. I know that you are sprinkling that sunshine and smile. You left quite an impact on many hearts back here on Earth, and so many of us are better, sillier, more loving people because we knew you. You really were a gem, and I feel lucky that I was able to know you. I adored you, and I always will.
Moving forward, I want to make a point to tell people how deeply I love and appreciate them. I know, again, that is something everyone says, but we don't always follow through. But I don't want to lose anyone else without them knowing how special they are. Everyone should hear about the impact they have made on others lives. I don't know how we can get better at this, but we must.
My challenge for you, my friends, is to tell three people in your life that you love them. Right now.
Thank you for reading about my sweet Ellen. May she rest in peace.
Monday, August 18, 2014
The Good and The Not So Good.
I honestly do not know how I am awake right now. The past few weeks have been jam packed. I am usually very much "on top" of my blog, but I've barely even logged in.
My emotions are a total roller coaster. There's been amazing things happening, but there has also been some really upsetting things happening. Let me fill you in.
The Good.
Successfully pulled off three work events.
My main responsibility at The American Cancer Society is to manage three fundraising 5k's in October that benefit breast cancer research and programs. In August, we host a kickoff event for each of the 5k's I manage so that people can come and learn more. I held my first two kickoff's last week. One was VERY successful- high attendance, and after the kickoff THREE new teams registered. The other was somewhat successful- decent attendance and two new teams registered.
Another event was hosting a "tent party" at a local fair. The tent party included speakers, live music, and a raffle with over 40 different prizes. The proceeds of the raffle went back to ACS. The day was VERY successful- we raised over $3,000 total.
I've got one more big event coming up this Wednesday. Then work life settles a little bit as I prepare for October!
Have lost 74.6 lbs
I've neglected Weight Loss Wednesday's. I just haven't had the energy or the time to post about it...PLUS, my schedule has been so weird, that I am not in my normal routine. I have still managed to lose, though. I've tried to be as careful as possible. Which is difficult when I am on the road a lot, and tempted by deep fried oreos at the fair! I am .4 lbs away from losing 75 lbs!
New Little Buddy
My best friend, Christine, and her husband Paul welcomed their first son, Luke, into the world last Wednesday. It was one of the most exciting days of my life. Holding Luke for the first time reminded me so much of holding my nephew Ryan for the first time- pure joy, and a heart full of love. I cannot wait to keep getting to know my new little buddy. I could not stop smiling on Thursday, I was beaming for my best friend and for the new chapter in her life.
The Not So Good
The loss of my Uncle Mike
I wrote about my uncle's passing soon after it happened, but his loss has really taken a toll on my family, especially my dad. It was just such a shock. Yesterday at my event at the fair, I met a sheriff with his companion, a German Shepard trained to sniff out bombs. That is the same work my uncle did as a police officer. It reminded me so deeply of the impact that my Uncle Mike made in his community-and it made me realize just how much I admired him, and how much I miss him now. That it's simply not fair that he had to go, especially without any warning.
Robin Williams' Suicide.
Anytime someone commits suicide, it is a hard pill to swallow. It strikes a chord in me that I cannot fully explain. Of course I did knot personally know Robin Williams, but I felt like I did. I feel such a connection to that man. Mostly because his movies were a large part of my childhood. Hook is my favorite movie of all time, and it is a movie that bonds my dad and I. We are always quoting that movie, and whenever it is on TV one of us lets the other know. Of course there are his other movies- Mrs. Doubtfire, Aladdin, Jack Patch Adams, Dead Poet's Society...just to name a few. His movies have always just been a big part of my life. I was devastated when I heard of his suicide. And, over the next several nights, I suffered from nightmares about suicide. Those have gone away as of Friday, but I didn't get much sleep last week. I tried to write about Robin, and to write about depression/suicide, but I just couldn't.
I tried to watch Hook twice since last Monday, but haven't made it all the way through yet. I found myself too emotional. I even teared up in the food fight scene when the lost boys yell out "bang a rang Peter!". I'm not sure if I have been this affected by a celebrity death before. Corey Monteith was difficult, and I shed many tears when that happened, but the death of Robin Williams has just left me numb.
The Breakdown.
The not so good, combined with exhaustion, has hurt. I've cried many tears. I've woken up in the middle of the night unable to go back to sleep. I've wanted to stay in bed all day. My writing has suffered as a result of all the things going on. I have not felt as passionate, I have not despretly wanted to write every moment of every day as I once did. No matter what I wrote, I felt like it was not good enough...this blog post itself included. Feelings of jealousy came over me as I have read my friends blogs- why can THEY write and I can't? The breakdown hasn't been fun.
In Summary.
Here I stand. I may have fallen, but I know how to get back up.
I almost didn't write about the not so good. I almost just left this blog post as an update on my weight loss, and told you all some of the work things happening. But that wouldn't be honest of me. Maybe it seems I am being dramatic or that I am being too sad, but I am simply sharing the reality of my life the past few weeks. Why hide our feelings? Why be afraid to share the things that hurt us? We shouldn't be. Open, real conversations are important to building our relationships and to trusting one another.
Yesterday at the fair, our tent was decorated with butterflies. Although I get a little jumpy around butterflies, yesterday, our decorations gave me hope. Butterflies are a symbol of transformation. They are living proof that we don't stay stuck in one place forever. We grow- we find our wings and we fly.
Life isn't going to be fair, and it's not always going to be fun. But it can be enriching, it can be abundant and it is most certainly worth living. Always remember that.
My emotions are a total roller coaster. There's been amazing things happening, but there has also been some really upsetting things happening. Let me fill you in.
The Good.
Successfully pulled off three work events.
My main responsibility at The American Cancer Society is to manage three fundraising 5k's in October that benefit breast cancer research and programs. In August, we host a kickoff event for each of the 5k's I manage so that people can come and learn more. I held my first two kickoff's last week. One was VERY successful- high attendance, and after the kickoff THREE new teams registered. The other was somewhat successful- decent attendance and two new teams registered.
Another event was hosting a "tent party" at a local fair. The tent party included speakers, live music, and a raffle with over 40 different prizes. The proceeds of the raffle went back to ACS. The day was VERY successful- we raised over $3,000 total.
I've got one more big event coming up this Wednesday. Then work life settles a little bit as I prepare for October!
Have lost 74.6 lbs
I've neglected Weight Loss Wednesday's. I just haven't had the energy or the time to post about it...PLUS, my schedule has been so weird, that I am not in my normal routine. I have still managed to lose, though. I've tried to be as careful as possible. Which is difficult when I am on the road a lot, and tempted by deep fried oreos at the fair! I am .4 lbs away from losing 75 lbs!
New Little Buddy
My best friend, Christine, and her husband Paul welcomed their first son, Luke, into the world last Wednesday. It was one of the most exciting days of my life. Holding Luke for the first time reminded me so much of holding my nephew Ryan for the first time- pure joy, and a heart full of love. I cannot wait to keep getting to know my new little buddy. I could not stop smiling on Thursday, I was beaming for my best friend and for the new chapter in her life.
The Not So Good
The loss of my Uncle Mike
I wrote about my uncle's passing soon after it happened, but his loss has really taken a toll on my family, especially my dad. It was just such a shock. Yesterday at my event at the fair, I met a sheriff with his companion, a German Shepard trained to sniff out bombs. That is the same work my uncle did as a police officer. It reminded me so deeply of the impact that my Uncle Mike made in his community-and it made me realize just how much I admired him, and how much I miss him now. That it's simply not fair that he had to go, especially without any warning.
Robin Williams' Suicide.
Anytime someone commits suicide, it is a hard pill to swallow. It strikes a chord in me that I cannot fully explain. Of course I did knot personally know Robin Williams, but I felt like I did. I feel such a connection to that man. Mostly because his movies were a large part of my childhood. Hook is my favorite movie of all time, and it is a movie that bonds my dad and I. We are always quoting that movie, and whenever it is on TV one of us lets the other know. Of course there are his other movies- Mrs. Doubtfire, Aladdin, Jack Patch Adams, Dead Poet's Society...just to name a few. His movies have always just been a big part of my life. I was devastated when I heard of his suicide. And, over the next several nights, I suffered from nightmares about suicide. Those have gone away as of Friday, but I didn't get much sleep last week. I tried to write about Robin, and to write about depression/suicide, but I just couldn't.
I tried to watch Hook twice since last Monday, but haven't made it all the way through yet. I found myself too emotional. I even teared up in the food fight scene when the lost boys yell out "bang a rang Peter!". I'm not sure if I have been this affected by a celebrity death before. Corey Monteith was difficult, and I shed many tears when that happened, but the death of Robin Williams has just left me numb.
The Breakdown.
The not so good, combined with exhaustion, has hurt. I've cried many tears. I've woken up in the middle of the night unable to go back to sleep. I've wanted to stay in bed all day. My writing has suffered as a result of all the things going on. I have not felt as passionate, I have not despretly wanted to write every moment of every day as I once did. No matter what I wrote, I felt like it was not good enough...this blog post itself included. Feelings of jealousy came over me as I have read my friends blogs- why can THEY write and I can't? The breakdown hasn't been fun.
In Summary.
Here I stand. I may have fallen, but I know how to get back up.
I almost didn't write about the not so good. I almost just left this blog post as an update on my weight loss, and told you all some of the work things happening. But that wouldn't be honest of me. Maybe it seems I am being dramatic or that I am being too sad, but I am simply sharing the reality of my life the past few weeks. Why hide our feelings? Why be afraid to share the things that hurt us? We shouldn't be. Open, real conversations are important to building our relationships and to trusting one another.
Yesterday at the fair, our tent was decorated with butterflies. Although I get a little jumpy around butterflies, yesterday, our decorations gave me hope. Butterflies are a symbol of transformation. They are living proof that we don't stay stuck in one place forever. We grow- we find our wings and we fly.
Life isn't going to be fair, and it's not always going to be fun. But it can be enriching, it can be abundant and it is most certainly worth living. Always remember that.
Saturday, August 2, 2014
Beauty in the breakdown
Oh, hello there, friends. It's been about two weeks since I was last here.
Many of you know what has been going on, but for those who do not, here is a quick spark notes version:
My parents returned home from a trip to PA last Tuesday. From Tuesday-Thursday, my dad spent most of his time sleeping. It became a bit worrisome by Thursday afternoon. We were all concerned that there was something wrong. It became even more worrisome when his exhaustion was paired with confusion and slow speech. At that point, we knew we had to take him to the ER.
It was determined that he has increased swelling in the brain. It was about a 15% increase since his last visit to the doctor, which is quite a significant jump. We spent from Thursday-Tuesday at the hospital. He was finally released Tuesday afternoon. We were told he would need to come back in 4 weeks for a more intense MRI to determine the exact cause of the swelling. They believe it is radiation necrosis, which is a side effect from gamma knife radiation. We will know more soon. In the meantime, we need to keep a close eye on him to watch for signs of confusion. He is also not able to drive until we determine the cause of the swelling.
On Tuesday, my birthday, I had to leave my family to go on a conference for work. I spent Tuesday and Wednesday in Ft. Wayne, IN with my peers. It was hard for me to be away from home on my birthday, but even harder to be away from my family at the scary time. When I got back home on Wednesday, I met up with my parents for dinner. We had a great dinner, and talked all about how positive we were all going to be and how my dad was going to be okay.
As we were leaving, my dad got a phone call from his brother, Joe. Joe was delivering the shocking, heartbreaking news that Mike, their other brother, had passed away suddenly. This was a shock to all of us, and I will never forget the look on my daddy's face when he was told what happened. Mike had just been in the hospital to visit with my dad. There was no medical condition that we knew of, and he was his jolly self at the hospital.
Mike's death hit each of us pretty hard right in the gut. The only silver lining I can find is that we DID get to see him recently. But that also makes it all the more shocking.
Needless to say, the past week has been incredibly difficult. It's been terrifying, and it's brought on a lot of emotions. There were times I wanted to break, times I wanted to yell. And that's just me. I can't imagine how my dad, going through this diagnosis and losing his brother, is feeling, or how my mom, who has become a caregiver for my dad, is dealing with all of this.
Luckily, we've had fantastic support from our friends and family. I really am not sure we could do it without the love spread to us. Everyone who has taken the time to ask how we are doing, or to offer assistance with driving my dad around or to help my mom get her classroom ready for the fall....all of that means the world to us. We are a strong family, but the love that surrounds us makes us stronger.
Times like these are tough, but also beautiful. Because even in the dark, scary times, you can still see and feel the love. You see the good in people and you are reminded of the importance of relationships, and of human interaction. We'll get through this because we have each other to lean on and to carry one another.
Much love.
Many of you know what has been going on, but for those who do not, here is a quick spark notes version:
My parents returned home from a trip to PA last Tuesday. From Tuesday-Thursday, my dad spent most of his time sleeping. It became a bit worrisome by Thursday afternoon. We were all concerned that there was something wrong. It became even more worrisome when his exhaustion was paired with confusion and slow speech. At that point, we knew we had to take him to the ER.
It was determined that he has increased swelling in the brain. It was about a 15% increase since his last visit to the doctor, which is quite a significant jump. We spent from Thursday-Tuesday at the hospital. He was finally released Tuesday afternoon. We were told he would need to come back in 4 weeks for a more intense MRI to determine the exact cause of the swelling. They believe it is radiation necrosis, which is a side effect from gamma knife radiation. We will know more soon. In the meantime, we need to keep a close eye on him to watch for signs of confusion. He is also not able to drive until we determine the cause of the swelling.
On Tuesday, my birthday, I had to leave my family to go on a conference for work. I spent Tuesday and Wednesday in Ft. Wayne, IN with my peers. It was hard for me to be away from home on my birthday, but even harder to be away from my family at the scary time. When I got back home on Wednesday, I met up with my parents for dinner. We had a great dinner, and talked all about how positive we were all going to be and how my dad was going to be okay.
As we were leaving, my dad got a phone call from his brother, Joe. Joe was delivering the shocking, heartbreaking news that Mike, their other brother, had passed away suddenly. This was a shock to all of us, and I will never forget the look on my daddy's face when he was told what happened. Mike had just been in the hospital to visit with my dad. There was no medical condition that we knew of, and he was his jolly self at the hospital.
Mike's death hit each of us pretty hard right in the gut. The only silver lining I can find is that we DID get to see him recently. But that also makes it all the more shocking.
Needless to say, the past week has been incredibly difficult. It's been terrifying, and it's brought on a lot of emotions. There were times I wanted to break, times I wanted to yell. And that's just me. I can't imagine how my dad, going through this diagnosis and losing his brother, is feeling, or how my mom, who has become a caregiver for my dad, is dealing with all of this.
Luckily, we've had fantastic support from our friends and family. I really am not sure we could do it without the love spread to us. Everyone who has taken the time to ask how we are doing, or to offer assistance with driving my dad around or to help my mom get her classroom ready for the fall....all of that means the world to us. We are a strong family, but the love that surrounds us makes us stronger.
Times like these are tough, but also beautiful. Because even in the dark, scary times, you can still see and feel the love. You see the good in people and you are reminded of the importance of relationships, and of human interaction. We'll get through this because we have each other to lean on and to carry one another.
Much love.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Dear Laurence...
Dear Laurence,
Does God separate his angels into teams?
I know that's a pretty bold question to start off with tonight, but it's the first thing I thought of. Like, are there angels who watch over the poor, angels who care for the sick, angels who lead those who are lost? And do these teams have captains? I'm willing to bet that if this is the case, you are the captain of some kind of team. Maybe other teen angels who spent their time on earth helping others. Maybe you all found each other up there in Heaven and you're working together now, trying to help the rest of us. I bet you'd be a great captain, just like you were for your soccer team.
I have a very selfish favor to ask of you, though. Can you put your angel duties aside tomorrow and focus on my dad? He will receive some news back on his tests regarding the tumor in his lung, and I am hoping and praying that it is good news. If Heaven works the way I think it does, you probably already know the results, and maybe you are working on how to be supportive of each of us tomorrow as we wait. All I need is peace and understanding. I have confidence that my dad is going to be okay, but I may need some help putting that confidence into practice tomorrow while I wait for my parents to tell me the news.
Back in September, when my dad was first diagnosed, there was a few days where I heard U2 songs everywhere I went. In the car, in stores, at the gym. etc. I am positive that was you, showing me that you were here, and that we were going to get through this. Maybe tomorrow, you can throw me a U2 song?
Sometimes I wonder what you would be like if you had never gotten sick, and if you were still here. Tragedies will happen and I'll watch the news and think "man, what would Laurence have done if he was here?". There's no doubt in my mind you'd still be changing lives and inspiring people. Because that's happening now, even though you aren't here. Every single person who hears your story is touched, and moved to action. It's incredible.
This day makes me miss you, but I know, I just know, that good things continue to happen because of your legacy. I am sad that you did not get more time, but I am overjoyed that I had the honor and privilege of having you as my little buddy, that I witnessed your story, and that I can tell that story.
I look for you a lot. Just in passing- in the smiles of others, in acts of kindness. Sometimes I feel you beside me, cheering me on when I have a new idea or a goal. But two years ago, I saw and felt you most when we were in Ft. Walton. We are headed there again in April, and I can't wait to see you there. We will be side by side, just like when we were kids.
I love you Laurence. Please look over my daddy and the rest of my family tomorrow. I miss you. See you in Florida.
<3 p="">
Does God separate his angels into teams?
I know that's a pretty bold question to start off with tonight, but it's the first thing I thought of. Like, are there angels who watch over the poor, angels who care for the sick, angels who lead those who are lost? And do these teams have captains? I'm willing to bet that if this is the case, you are the captain of some kind of team. Maybe other teen angels who spent their time on earth helping others. Maybe you all found each other up there in Heaven and you're working together now, trying to help the rest of us. I bet you'd be a great captain, just like you were for your soccer team.
I have a very selfish favor to ask of you, though. Can you put your angel duties aside tomorrow and focus on my dad? He will receive some news back on his tests regarding the tumor in his lung, and I am hoping and praying that it is good news. If Heaven works the way I think it does, you probably already know the results, and maybe you are working on how to be supportive of each of us tomorrow as we wait. All I need is peace and understanding. I have confidence that my dad is going to be okay, but I may need some help putting that confidence into practice tomorrow while I wait for my parents to tell me the news.
Back in September, when my dad was first diagnosed, there was a few days where I heard U2 songs everywhere I went. In the car, in stores, at the gym. etc. I am positive that was you, showing me that you were here, and that we were going to get through this. Maybe tomorrow, you can throw me a U2 song?
Sometimes I wonder what you would be like if you had never gotten sick, and if you were still here. Tragedies will happen and I'll watch the news and think "man, what would Laurence have done if he was here?". There's no doubt in my mind you'd still be changing lives and inspiring people. Because that's happening now, even though you aren't here. Every single person who hears your story is touched, and moved to action. It's incredible.
This day makes me miss you, but I know, I just know, that good things continue to happen because of your legacy. I am sad that you did not get more time, but I am overjoyed that I had the honor and privilege of having you as my little buddy, that I witnessed your story, and that I can tell that story.
I look for you a lot. Just in passing- in the smiles of others, in acts of kindness. Sometimes I feel you beside me, cheering me on when I have a new idea or a goal. But two years ago, I saw and felt you most when we were in Ft. Walton. We are headed there again in April, and I can't wait to see you there. We will be side by side, just like when we were kids.
I love you Laurence. Please look over my daddy and the rest of my family tomorrow. I miss you. See you in Florida.
<3 p="">
Friday, January 10, 2014
1/10/12.
I am forever haunted by January 10th and 11th. It was this date, two years ago, that tragedy ensued. It was tomorrow, January 11th, that I heard what happened.
It was the most angry, scared, sad, and confused I had ever felt in my entire life.
How? Why? How? WHY? God, WHY?
As humans we try so hard to understand these kinds of things, to wrap our heads around the tragedy. But we can't.
No matter how many January 10ths and 11ths pass me in this lifetime, I will never forget 2012. I will never forget how I felt. And I will never forget you.
I see your face in the faces of so many other moms that were just like you. I have met a lot of new moms this year, and in each of them I see a lot of your qualities: compassion. strength. love. pride. truth. I see it in Martha and Paula, in Julie, in Deborah, in Anne, in Carolynn, in Esther. I know you are holding each of us close, helping us hope over each obstacle presented, giving us hope and strength.
Most of all, I see you in my mom. You were such a friend to her, and a person she admired. She adored you. But what she doesn't always realize, is she is a lot like you- loving, kind, passionate. Like you, she always wants to help others. She's a special woman, and you meant a lot to her. I believe she carries your spirit with her.
I miss your kids. They are so beautiful. I know they are being taken care of, I see pictures and it warms my heart to see the smiles on their faces. The girls are so tall, and starting to look like you. Nick is becoming a handsome young man. I miss my mornings with them, back when you were still here. They will grow up to be life changers, no doubt. They are so full of love- love that you gave them- that I have no worries about them. I just miss them.
Today, I wish I could gather up everyone that knew you and we could all spend a few hours together remembering you and the impact you made on our world. Your family, friends, students, coworkers, and me...your babysitter. All of us could hold each other, cry, laugh, pray. I know so many of us will be thinking about you today.
To everyone hurting over this loss, to everyone replaying the memories of today and tomorrow in your head over and over: May you be comforted by the fact that the qualities you loved the most in Susan are qualities that are also in your heart and in your soul. You just gotta let em shine. Susan was a pro at that- she shined so bright, that she shed light on this whole town. Remembering what happened is hard- it gives some of us nightmares or anxiety attacks. But remembering Susan, and her smile, is easy. I have absolutely no doubt that if you are reading this and knew Susan, you were impacted her in some way. She left a piece of herself with everyone she met. Take that piece and hold it close. Snuggle it tight. And then, each day, remember that it is there. Use it. Use it to get yourself through the day or to help someone else.
We miss you, Susan.
It was the most angry, scared, sad, and confused I had ever felt in my entire life.
How? Why? How? WHY? God, WHY?
As humans we try so hard to understand these kinds of things, to wrap our heads around the tragedy. But we can't.
No matter how many January 10ths and 11ths pass me in this lifetime, I will never forget 2012. I will never forget how I felt. And I will never forget you.
I see your face in the faces of so many other moms that were just like you. I have met a lot of new moms this year, and in each of them I see a lot of your qualities: compassion. strength. love. pride. truth. I see it in Martha and Paula, in Julie, in Deborah, in Anne, in Carolynn, in Esther. I know you are holding each of us close, helping us hope over each obstacle presented, giving us hope and strength.
Most of all, I see you in my mom. You were such a friend to her, and a person she admired. She adored you. But what she doesn't always realize, is she is a lot like you- loving, kind, passionate. Like you, she always wants to help others. She's a special woman, and you meant a lot to her. I believe she carries your spirit with her.
I miss your kids. They are so beautiful. I know they are being taken care of, I see pictures and it warms my heart to see the smiles on their faces. The girls are so tall, and starting to look like you. Nick is becoming a handsome young man. I miss my mornings with them, back when you were still here. They will grow up to be life changers, no doubt. They are so full of love- love that you gave them- that I have no worries about them. I just miss them.
Today, I wish I could gather up everyone that knew you and we could all spend a few hours together remembering you and the impact you made on our world. Your family, friends, students, coworkers, and me...your babysitter. All of us could hold each other, cry, laugh, pray. I know so many of us will be thinking about you today.
To everyone hurting over this loss, to everyone replaying the memories of today and tomorrow in your head over and over: May you be comforted by the fact that the qualities you loved the most in Susan are qualities that are also in your heart and in your soul. You just gotta let em shine. Susan was a pro at that- she shined so bright, that she shed light on this whole town. Remembering what happened is hard- it gives some of us nightmares or anxiety attacks. But remembering Susan, and her smile, is easy. I have absolutely no doubt that if you are reading this and knew Susan, you were impacted her in some way. She left a piece of herself with everyone she met. Take that piece and hold it close. Snuggle it tight. And then, each day, remember that it is there. Use it. Use it to get yourself through the day or to help someone else.
We miss you, Susan.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Happy Birthday, Laurence
Dear Laurence,
Happy Birthday.
I really went back and forth on whether or not to write a blog in honor of your birthday. I have done it for the last two years, and have several other blogs about you. I thought -eh- my readers know about Laurence. They know I miss him. They know how special he was.
And then I woke up.
Because your life, your mission, is always new to someone. Maybe someone will stumble on this blog and want to know more about you, so they'll ask and do some research and once again someone will be inspired by your story. Maybe it will change another life. Maybe it will motivate someone to get out and help somebody else.
Because, if a 15 year old with Stage 4 brain cancer can make a difference, anyone can.
Sometime last year, your name started to make local news headlines again. Your guitar was put on display at the UofM hospital and people were talking about you, and all the money you raised for the One Campaign. Some of my coworkers even heard about it, and we'd have lengthy discussions at lunch. Once one of them called me from her car because she heard them talking about you on NPR. That was pretty cool, you know? To have a reminder that your legacy and inspiration live on.
In some ways, I feel like I have failed you and your family, because I still haven't finished that book I started writing about you. I have a lot written, but I always get frustrated with myself, thinking it's not good enough, and then I quit. I should keep going. I don't think it will ever be too late. Even if one other person besides me reads it, it won't be too late. Right? I should keep writing. For you. My beautiful cousin who's spirit lives on.
You know, last summer your beautiful Grandma Mary Ann gave me this picture she found:
It's so perfect, the two of us playing in the sand at Ft. Walton. We have some years in between us in age, but that didn't matter. I loved spending time with you. Even back then, you were a little ray of sunshine in my life. I probably didn't fully appreciate it then, and you probably never knew, but my moments with you were my favorites of the Florida trip. You would look at me with that adorable face and ask me a million questions. You loved to learn. And I loved to teach you. But later, when you were sick, I learned more from you than I ever would have possibly imagined. You were the greatest teacher I ever had, and I never sat in your classroom.
I spent about 15-20 minutes staring at this picture this morning. In fact, I was late to the gym because of it. But I couldn't help it. Part of me was reflecting on the memories, part of me was praying, and part of me was desperately seeking something in the picture to comfort me, to remind me that you are still here somehow.
I found it.
First of all, your hand, although I know it is holding a shovel, is positioned close to my chest- my heart. My head is down and I am kneeling. While I was staring at the picture, I couldn't help but to think- it looks like you are praying for me, or with me. You are looking at me intently. I know to others this may seem odd, and they may even roll their eyes and think "Megan. They simply captured a moment of you two building a sandcastle". But today, that's not how I see it. Today, I see it as two people praying together, you comforting me.
Do you know that I usually don't like building sandcastles/playing in the sand? I would avoid it all costs. I much preferred to be in the water. Bonny, my Godmother, used to call me "The Fish" on our family vacations because I never left the water. So the simple fact that you got me to build a sandcastle with you says a heck of a lot about your influence on me, kiddo.
Happy Birthday, Laurence. Know that you continue to live on with me in my heart. I promise to finish the book. I promise to keep building sandcastles.
Love, Megan
FOR MY READERS:
I am doing a short walk in honor of Laurence on September 21st. You can get more details here if you are interested in walking. If you want to donate in honor of him, let me know. I will send you to the right place.
If you have not read about Laurence before in my blog, and want to learn more, check out this post.
Or, do a simple Google search for "Laurence Carolin".
Happy Birthday.
I really went back and forth on whether or not to write a blog in honor of your birthday. I have done it for the last two years, and have several other blogs about you. I thought -eh- my readers know about Laurence. They know I miss him. They know how special he was.
And then I woke up.
Because your life, your mission, is always new to someone. Maybe someone will stumble on this blog and want to know more about you, so they'll ask and do some research and once again someone will be inspired by your story. Maybe it will change another life. Maybe it will motivate someone to get out and help somebody else.
Because, if a 15 year old with Stage 4 brain cancer can make a difference, anyone can.
Sometime last year, your name started to make local news headlines again. Your guitar was put on display at the UofM hospital and people were talking about you, and all the money you raised for the One Campaign. Some of my coworkers even heard about it, and we'd have lengthy discussions at lunch. Once one of them called me from her car because she heard them talking about you on NPR. That was pretty cool, you know? To have a reminder that your legacy and inspiration live on.
In some ways, I feel like I have failed you and your family, because I still haven't finished that book I started writing about you. I have a lot written, but I always get frustrated with myself, thinking it's not good enough, and then I quit. I should keep going. I don't think it will ever be too late. Even if one other person besides me reads it, it won't be too late. Right? I should keep writing. For you. My beautiful cousin who's spirit lives on.
You know, last summer your beautiful Grandma Mary Ann gave me this picture she found:
It's so perfect, the two of us playing in the sand at Ft. Walton. We have some years in between us in age, but that didn't matter. I loved spending time with you. Even back then, you were a little ray of sunshine in my life. I probably didn't fully appreciate it then, and you probably never knew, but my moments with you were my favorites of the Florida trip. You would look at me with that adorable face and ask me a million questions. You loved to learn. And I loved to teach you. But later, when you were sick, I learned more from you than I ever would have possibly imagined. You were the greatest teacher I ever had, and I never sat in your classroom.
I spent about 15-20 minutes staring at this picture this morning. In fact, I was late to the gym because of it. But I couldn't help it. Part of me was reflecting on the memories, part of me was praying, and part of me was desperately seeking something in the picture to comfort me, to remind me that you are still here somehow.
I found it.
First of all, your hand, although I know it is holding a shovel, is positioned close to my chest- my heart. My head is down and I am kneeling. While I was staring at the picture, I couldn't help but to think- it looks like you are praying for me, or with me. You are looking at me intently. I know to others this may seem odd, and they may even roll their eyes and think "Megan. They simply captured a moment of you two building a sandcastle". But today, that's not how I see it. Today, I see it as two people praying together, you comforting me.
Do you know that I usually don't like building sandcastles/playing in the sand? I would avoid it all costs. I much preferred to be in the water. Bonny, my Godmother, used to call me "The Fish" on our family vacations because I never left the water. So the simple fact that you got me to build a sandcastle with you says a heck of a lot about your influence on me, kiddo.
Happy Birthday, Laurence. Know that you continue to live on with me in my heart. I promise to finish the book. I promise to keep building sandcastles.
Love, Megan
FOR MY READERS:
I am doing a short walk in honor of Laurence on September 21st. You can get more details here if you are interested in walking. If you want to donate in honor of him, let me know. I will send you to the right place.
If you have not read about Laurence before in my blog, and want to learn more, check out this post.
Or, do a simple Google search for "Laurence Carolin".
Sunday, July 14, 2013
RIP Cory.
I consider myself a big Glee fan. I rarely, if ever, miss an episode. I know all the story lines, who has dated who, the friendships, the performances and songs. I know each actor's name in real life and a little bit about each of them. I follow pretty much every cast member from seasons 1-3 on twitter. I own seasons 1 and 2 on dvd. I love Glee.
Finn is a lovable character because he's so goofy and awkward. He wants whats best for people but doesn't always have the best way of expressing it- over time we saw him get better at that. He wears his heart on his sleeve. Off screen, Cory Monteith was a charmer. He was always smiling and joking around, he did not hesitate to show his love for his girlfriend and fellow cast mate Lea Michelle. He was just as goofy.
Those of us in the Glee fandom knew of Cory's issues with drugs and alcohol as a teen, and we knew that he was in rehab earlier this year for the same issues.
But I don't think one of us expected to wake up today and read the headlines that Cory was found dead in his hotel room due to a drug overdose.
This is one of the only celebrity deaths to really shake me up. Like, I almost threw up. I don't know if it's because I saw his face on my tv screen every Thursday for four years or if it's the nature of his death, but I am absolutely devastated over this loss.It saddens me that Cory's soul was so tortured, and yet he seemed so happy. It just shows you that you never know what people are going through. I know that he does not have to fight those battles anymore, but I sure wish it didn't have to end like this.
Millions of people across the world looked up to him. Maybe that's why it hurts. Knowing how real Glee is for so many of us. It's a show that gave us hope, and Cory was a huge part of that. He was part of the Glee family.
My heart hurts for Lea, for Cory's family and friends and fellow cast mates. By the looks of twitter, it is obvious the impact he made on other celebrities lives. He was, truly, a wonderful young man.
I also break for the young fans. I'm almost 26 years old and extremely shaken up and saddened over this loss, I cannot imagine the pain and confusion of the teens. If I could, I'd invite every Glee fan over to my house so that we could all hug each other. I hope those kids know- you'll be okay. I promise. Glee lost a family member, and you lost someone you love and admire, but you will be okay.
Glee fans, <3 and="" believing.="" don="" hugs.="" p="" stop="" t="">Glee cast, all my prayers to you as your grieve the lost of your friend and "brother".
Lea, I have no words other than all the love in the world is being sent out to you today.
Cory, you really were a beautiful person. May you rest in peace. Thank you for your bravery.
Finn is a lovable character because he's so goofy and awkward. He wants whats best for people but doesn't always have the best way of expressing it- over time we saw him get better at that. He wears his heart on his sleeve. Off screen, Cory Monteith was a charmer. He was always smiling and joking around, he did not hesitate to show his love for his girlfriend and fellow cast mate Lea Michelle. He was just as goofy.
Those of us in the Glee fandom knew of Cory's issues with drugs and alcohol as a teen, and we knew that he was in rehab earlier this year for the same issues.
But I don't think one of us expected to wake up today and read the headlines that Cory was found dead in his hotel room due to a drug overdose.
This is one of the only celebrity deaths to really shake me up. Like, I almost threw up. I don't know if it's because I saw his face on my tv screen every Thursday for four years or if it's the nature of his death, but I am absolutely devastated over this loss.It saddens me that Cory's soul was so tortured, and yet he seemed so happy. It just shows you that you never know what people are going through. I know that he does not have to fight those battles anymore, but I sure wish it didn't have to end like this.
My heart hurts for Lea, for Cory's family and friends and fellow cast mates. By the looks of twitter, it is obvious the impact he made on other celebrities lives. He was, truly, a wonderful young man.
I also break for the young fans. I'm almost 26 years old and extremely shaken up and saddened over this loss, I cannot imagine the pain and confusion of the teens. If I could, I'd invite every Glee fan over to my house so that we could all hug each other. I hope those kids know- you'll be okay. I promise. Glee lost a family member, and you lost someone you love and admire, but you will be okay.
Glee fans, <3 and="" believing.="" don="" hugs.="" p="" stop="" t="">Glee cast, all my prayers to you as your grieve the lost of your friend and "brother".
Lea, I have no words other than all the love in the world is being sent out to you today.
Cory, you really were a beautiful person. May you rest in peace. Thank you for your bravery.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Remembering Susan.
I know that I was meant to know Susan. She came into my life at a very critical time. And had we not shared a connection, she probably would have just been another Hugo parent to me, no one special. But instead, she was a role model.
I was wrapping up my year at Cristo Rey when my mom told me about Susan. She mentioned she was going through a divorce and that she was looking for work as an English teacher. Teaching at risk youth was a passion of hers, so she was checking out Cristo Rey as an option. I didn't know Susan, but my mom told me some pretty fabulous things about her, so I offered to hand deliver her resume and cover letter to our principal. Unfortunately that job didn't work out, but I maintained in contact with Susan.
Fast forward a few months. Susan got a job at a high school in Rochester. This time, I was the one looking for work. I had quit my job at Boys Hope Girls Hope and was desperate for work. Susan offered me a small babysitting gig. She had to leave her house pretty early in the morning, so she wanted me to come over and help get her kids ready for school and to be sure they got on the bus. I gladly took her up on it, and even though she thinks I was doing her this mega favor, it was actually her helping me. It got me up in the mornings. I got to see her every morning, and she always had that bright smile on her face. I learned that she too had done a year of service, through the Jesuit Volunteer Corps. We could talk about that, openly. Most adults were somewhat hesitant of my volunteer experience, although they always told me it was admirable, I knew most of them could not understand why I did it. Susan understood. She and I had the same thought: we were servants of Jesus, and we were put on this earth to help other people to grow. We both loved teenagers, black coffee and the St. Hugo Community. She would leave each morning telling me thank you and to tell her kids she loved them. She did anything for those kids. She was so proud of them and of every accomplishment they had. She looked at them with these compassionate, loving eyes. I made a decision right then and there that when I became a mom, I was going to be like Susan.
When I got my job with Great Lakes Caring in April 2011 I had to stop going to the Jarrell house. It wasn't going to work out, I had to be out on the east side by 8 am. I felt horrible, but I also knew I had to move on. Susan was understanding. From then on she dropped the kids off at latchkey 15 minutes early so that she could still get to work on time. It was time for someone else to look after the three beautiful children every morning. I was a little sad, I liked those kids, and I loved seeing Susan every morning.
In the late summer months, I volunteered to serve as co leader of the youth group. Susan's oldest, her son, was now in high school and able to join the group. I got to see him, and to see Susan more often if she dropped him off or picked him up. We would always give each other very quick life updates, and I couldn't help but smile whenever I talked to her. The last time I ever saw her was early January. She was picking Nick up from youth group and I was walking outside to my car. She stopped the car and asked me how things were going, at work and with youth group. As she started to pull away she said "Just...thank you...for all that you do".
I never saw Susan again. I miss her terribly. I miss that smile and I miss her gentleness. I miss how important she made people feel, and how deeply and genuinely she cared about everyone. I hope that I can grow into the kind of woman that she was, because she was incredible. The sweetest person you've ever met.
One of the Sisters of Mercy asked me today, after allowing me to sob in her office, if I had been able to find any grace at all in this situation.
Yes. I have, although that is hard to believe. I have found that I am closer with my parents, a bit more protective of them and worried for them...but full of so much love for them and for all that they endure. I have gained the comfort and pride that my mom is one of the most loved people at St. Hugo. People were turning to her left and right when this tragedy struck, knowing how close she was to Susan and the kids. I have become more sensitive to tragedies like this, nearly falling to my knees when I hear a similar story. And, most of all, it has grown me closer to the students in my youth group. They carry so much pain and confusion on their shoulders, and whenever they walk in the room on Sunday nights I pray for each of them, pray that they are comforted, that they are happy, that they are safe. I have grieved with them, I know the losses they have felt. I'd do anything for those kids.
I want to sincerely thank everyone who has been there for me and who has been saying prayers for the family. I know tomorrow is going to be hard too. Last year I woke up on the 11th to my mom telling me the news. I won't ever forget that feeling even though I wish I could.
There is a very special person in my life these days, and this is what he said to me today. "Tomorrow will be hardest, but you will persevere and the pain will get better. All of the hurt and sorrow will be turned into motivation to embrace (your word for 2013) any challenges that come your way". Amen.
I miss you Susan. I know you are smiling down on all of us and bringing us through the pain.
Please join me in praying for Susan's Family:
Dear Lord, Wrap Your arms tightly around those three beautiful children. Help them to know that they are not alone, help them to see light when they close their eyes to sleep. Heal their hearts as they remember that awful night. Bring them happy memories, bring them strength and pour them with love. Amen.
I was wrapping up my year at Cristo Rey when my mom told me about Susan. She mentioned she was going through a divorce and that she was looking for work as an English teacher. Teaching at risk youth was a passion of hers, so she was checking out Cristo Rey as an option. I didn't know Susan, but my mom told me some pretty fabulous things about her, so I offered to hand deliver her resume and cover letter to our principal. Unfortunately that job didn't work out, but I maintained in contact with Susan.
Fast forward a few months. Susan got a job at a high school in Rochester. This time, I was the one looking for work. I had quit my job at Boys Hope Girls Hope and was desperate for work. Susan offered me a small babysitting gig. She had to leave her house pretty early in the morning, so she wanted me to come over and help get her kids ready for school and to be sure they got on the bus. I gladly took her up on it, and even though she thinks I was doing her this mega favor, it was actually her helping me. It got me up in the mornings. I got to see her every morning, and she always had that bright smile on her face. I learned that she too had done a year of service, through the Jesuit Volunteer Corps. We could talk about that, openly. Most adults were somewhat hesitant of my volunteer experience, although they always told me it was admirable, I knew most of them could not understand why I did it. Susan understood. She and I had the same thought: we were servants of Jesus, and we were put on this earth to help other people to grow. We both loved teenagers, black coffee and the St. Hugo Community. She would leave each morning telling me thank you and to tell her kids she loved them. She did anything for those kids. She was so proud of them and of every accomplishment they had. She looked at them with these compassionate, loving eyes. I made a decision right then and there that when I became a mom, I was going to be like Susan.
When I got my job with Great Lakes Caring in April 2011 I had to stop going to the Jarrell house. It wasn't going to work out, I had to be out on the east side by 8 am. I felt horrible, but I also knew I had to move on. Susan was understanding. From then on she dropped the kids off at latchkey 15 minutes early so that she could still get to work on time. It was time for someone else to look after the three beautiful children every morning. I was a little sad, I liked those kids, and I loved seeing Susan every morning.
In the late summer months, I volunteered to serve as co leader of the youth group. Susan's oldest, her son, was now in high school and able to join the group. I got to see him, and to see Susan more often if she dropped him off or picked him up. We would always give each other very quick life updates, and I couldn't help but smile whenever I talked to her. The last time I ever saw her was early January. She was picking Nick up from youth group and I was walking outside to my car. She stopped the car and asked me how things were going, at work and with youth group. As she started to pull away she said "Just...thank you...for all that you do".
I never saw Susan again. I miss her terribly. I miss that smile and I miss her gentleness. I miss how important she made people feel, and how deeply and genuinely she cared about everyone. I hope that I can grow into the kind of woman that she was, because she was incredible. The sweetest person you've ever met.
One of the Sisters of Mercy asked me today, after allowing me to sob in her office, if I had been able to find any grace at all in this situation.
Yes. I have, although that is hard to believe. I have found that I am closer with my parents, a bit more protective of them and worried for them...but full of so much love for them and for all that they endure. I have gained the comfort and pride that my mom is one of the most loved people at St. Hugo. People were turning to her left and right when this tragedy struck, knowing how close she was to Susan and the kids. I have become more sensitive to tragedies like this, nearly falling to my knees when I hear a similar story. And, most of all, it has grown me closer to the students in my youth group. They carry so much pain and confusion on their shoulders, and whenever they walk in the room on Sunday nights I pray for each of them, pray that they are comforted, that they are happy, that they are safe. I have grieved with them, I know the losses they have felt. I'd do anything for those kids.
I want to sincerely thank everyone who has been there for me and who has been saying prayers for the family. I know tomorrow is going to be hard too. Last year I woke up on the 11th to my mom telling me the news. I won't ever forget that feeling even though I wish I could.
There is a very special person in my life these days, and this is what he said to me today. "Tomorrow will be hardest, but you will persevere and the pain will get better. All of the hurt and sorrow will be turned into motivation to embrace (your word for 2013) any challenges that come your way". Amen.
I miss you Susan. I know you are smiling down on all of us and bringing us through the pain.
Please join me in praying for Susan's Family:
Dear Lord, Wrap Your arms tightly around those three beautiful children. Help them to know that they are not alone, help them to see light when they close their eyes to sleep. Heal their hearts as they remember that awful night. Bring them happy memories, bring them strength and pour them with love. Amen.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
happy 18th birthday, angel!
Dear Laurence;
I know we're supposed to be okay. We're supposed to be glad that you are not in pain. We are supposed to be in the acceptance phase. But today, on your 18th birthday, I'm not okay. You should be here. You should have never gotten cancer. It isn't fair. You should be running around with your soccer team, hanging out with your neighborhood friends and starting a new school year.
I think I got my angst out of the way. Sometimes I just want to stomp my feet and cry and yell that it's just not fair. Throw a temper tantrum. But deep down I know that isn't what you want, or how you would act. So I stop, take a deep breath, and feel you here with us. Your spirit lives on. People are still hearing your story and are still blown away by all that you did, the money you raised and the lives you touched. By your maturity and your grace. By your smile. I see that smile sometimes, you know. I see it in some of my patients, volunteers, coworkers, friends, and family. I know it's you, reminding me that you are still here. That you still care.
I think of you when I heard the words "spicy" "One" "Bono" "U2" "Make A Wish" and "Brain Cancer". I think of you the instant I hear any U2 song, when someone speaks of a story of someone who showed bravery during their cancer fight.
I am writing that book for you. I will admit I took a break. I felt frustrated, disappointed in myself and unworthy of writing about you- like I would never be able to do it justice or that I would not tell your story correctly. But then one of my facebook friends, out of the blue, posted this status:
I woke up with this on my heart so strong!!! It's for you! so here it goes..... Those of you who KNOW you are supposed to be writing a book...WHAT IS THE HOLD UP?? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR??? Everything does not have to be perfectly in line before you begin or finish writing. Just complete it and everything else will fall into place! Finish it already!!!!! love yall much :-) that is all!!!!
I am convinced I was meant to read that status. So I whipped out my paper, pen, laptop, and got back to work. I will finish it, I promise.
Hey, how do angels celebrate birthdays? Knowing you, I bet you celebrated by sprinkling a little extra love and hope on the world today. I felt it. I was near tears today because of stress, and a co worker called me into her office to have a chat. An hour later I walked out feeling uplifted, relieved, and stress free...because together we came up with this great plan on how to support our other co workers. I think you may have played a hand in that.
As I type this I am looking at a picture of us from Ft Walton Beach. You are probably 3, wearing a tie dye shirt with a shark on it and filling up a toy triuck with sand. I'm about 10, kneeling down to help you dig up the sand. The picture was caught mid conversation, and there you are with the smilie creeping acorss your face. I just loved every minute I had with you buddy. While I wish we had more, I cherish the ones we did have. If Heaven is what I think it is, then you have access to sand. Do me a favor and build a sandcastle, like we used to do.
I'm sorry I rambled and I'm sorry for my temper tantrum. I miss you, and I have you in my heart today and every day. Love you, happy birthday angel.
happy birthday, angel
I'm going to blow out 18 candles
and make a wish
wish that you could be here
wish that you never went through
what no one should go through
you were the greatest gift
this world ever received
and the greatest angel
heaven will ever need
And I try to walk on
I try to be strong
But it still hurts
that you're gone
you were the greatest gift
this world ever received
and the greatest angel
heaven will ever need
PS: our beautiful cousin Lynn is fighting breast cancer. I know you're on her side, giving her strength. keep the strength coming. I know she can beat this.
I know we're supposed to be okay. We're supposed to be glad that you are not in pain. We are supposed to be in the acceptance phase. But today, on your 18th birthday, I'm not okay. You should be here. You should have never gotten cancer. It isn't fair. You should be running around with your soccer team, hanging out with your neighborhood friends and starting a new school year.
I think I got my angst out of the way. Sometimes I just want to stomp my feet and cry and yell that it's just not fair. Throw a temper tantrum. But deep down I know that isn't what you want, or how you would act. So I stop, take a deep breath, and feel you here with us. Your spirit lives on. People are still hearing your story and are still blown away by all that you did, the money you raised and the lives you touched. By your maturity and your grace. By your smile. I see that smile sometimes, you know. I see it in some of my patients, volunteers, coworkers, friends, and family. I know it's you, reminding me that you are still here. That you still care.
I think of you when I heard the words "spicy" "One" "Bono" "U2" "Make A Wish" and "Brain Cancer". I think of you the instant I hear any U2 song, when someone speaks of a story of someone who showed bravery during their cancer fight.
I am writing that book for you. I will admit I took a break. I felt frustrated, disappointed in myself and unworthy of writing about you- like I would never be able to do it justice or that I would not tell your story correctly. But then one of my facebook friends, out of the blue, posted this status:
I woke up with this on my heart so strong!!! It's for you! so here it goes..... Those of you who KNOW you are supposed to be writing a book...WHAT IS THE HOLD UP?? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR??? Everything does not have to be perfectly in line before you begin or finish writing. Just complete it and everything else will fall into place! Finish it already!!!!! love yall much :-) that is all!!!!
I am convinced I was meant to read that status. So I whipped out my paper, pen, laptop, and got back to work. I will finish it, I promise.
Hey, how do angels celebrate birthdays? Knowing you, I bet you celebrated by sprinkling a little extra love and hope on the world today. I felt it. I was near tears today because of stress, and a co worker called me into her office to have a chat. An hour later I walked out feeling uplifted, relieved, and stress free...because together we came up with this great plan on how to support our other co workers. I think you may have played a hand in that.
As I type this I am looking at a picture of us from Ft Walton Beach. You are probably 3, wearing a tie dye shirt with a shark on it and filling up a toy triuck with sand. I'm about 10, kneeling down to help you dig up the sand. The picture was caught mid conversation, and there you are with the smilie creeping acorss your face. I just loved every minute I had with you buddy. While I wish we had more, I cherish the ones we did have. If Heaven is what I think it is, then you have access to sand. Do me a favor and build a sandcastle, like we used to do.
I'm sorry I rambled and I'm sorry for my temper tantrum. I miss you, and I have you in my heart today and every day. Love you, happy birthday angel.
happy birthday, angel
I'm going to blow out 18 candles
and make a wish
wish that you could be here
wish that you never went through
what no one should go through
you were the greatest gift
this world ever received
and the greatest angel
heaven will ever need
And I try to walk on
I try to be strong
But it still hurts
that you're gone
you were the greatest gift
this world ever received
and the greatest angel
heaven will ever need
PS: our beautiful cousin Lynn is fighting breast cancer. I know you're on her side, giving her strength. keep the strength coming. I know she can beat this.
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