Why Have You Forsaken Me?

My God, My God, Why have you forsaken me?

Good Friday 2017 was a fairly typical day – except that my youngest daughter had been taken from us just about four weeks prior. I stood in my kitchen chopping vegetables and let my mind wander with the warm breeze that was traipsing through the open doors. And, it hit me.

Let me back up for just a second. Faith, at least for me, has always come with nagging questions. Certain questions have bugged me for as long as I can remember – like – Why did God send his son, Jesus, not merely to die on our behalf but to endure untold suffering in doing so? Why didn’t God come and sacrifice Himself? And other questions have been renewed over the last year – like – what kind of God causes me so much suffering? What kind of God abandons me in my darkest hour? Where is this God when I’ve been kicked in the gut – again? Read more

Gone . . . but not forgotten

On March 22, 2017 we laid Brooke to rest. It was a day that I didn’t want to begin; yet, I didn’t want to see it end either. The fear was that the end of that day would signal the countdown to the day when no one would remember our Brooke. Over the past year, this momma’s fear has been put to rest. Our family has been blessed time and time again with sweet reminders of how Brooke touched so many lives during her short trip on earth. Read more

No More Carbs in Heaven

Time flies . . . especially when things are ordinary. This time last year started out pretty ordinary.  Monday just seemed like a typical Monday after a horse show weekend. Brooke was usually exhausted from the weekend and used that as an extra excuse for a nap (as if she really needed one). Frankly, I don’t recall too much about that Monday. But when I look back at my texts with Brooke, I’m reminded that Monday (March 13, 2017) was “National Napping Day.” Perfect! That sounds exactly like a typical Monday.

Tuesday was one of those days that I would have recalled vaguely as time passed, but I can only pinpoint it with accuracy because of the events that unfolded later in the week.  Graduation was still a couple of months away, but Brooke had found a few dresses that she wanted to check out. (If you knew Brooke personally, then you are keenly aware of her powers of persuasion.) So, we went shopping that afternoon. It was a fun shopping trip. No drama. We visited with the girls in the shop who are also friends. We found a cute dress and then headed to the grocery to pick up dinner. Read more

Does the “Beginning” Ever End?

One of the things “they” say after losing a child is that the second year is worse. No way. I had endured “second years” after my brother, my dad, and others passed away. The first year is by far the worse. That settles it.

Fast forward 355 days or so and I can begin to see what “they” might be talking about.

I barely know what the next step is. I’ve spent nearly a year dutifully marking off each morbid milestone – One month – check; Two months – check; Brooke’s birthday – check; Start of a Fall semester with no Brooke – check; Halloween Horse Show – check; Thanksgiving – check; More birthdays – check; Christmas and New Year’s – check; Megan’s birthday – check; Mardi Gras – check; Gulfport horse show – check; and so much more. Yet, here I sit with the realization that – it doesn’t end. This is just the beginning.

The reality that Brooke is gone – it must seem fairly obvious, but the mind is a tricky thing. The mind gauges just how much reality the heart and body can endure at once. Even when we are sure of “reality,” the mind is there acting as a gatekeeper. Filtering out the bits that are too much for the moment. Saving them for a sunny day. Doling out reality in measured doses.

As the heart and body begin to bear the weight of reality, the mind piles on a little more until eventually the full load comes to bear.

If someone handed you and load and told you that you’d have to carry a 500-pound weight every day for the rest of your life, you’d protest that it is impossible. But if someone handed you just a few pounds here and a few there until 500 pounds was sitting square on your shoulders, it would be different. That’s what losing a child is like. That’s the nature of tragedy. Read more

You Can Take “It” When You Go

After several months in the hospital, the end was near. Aunt had only one desire in the end – she wanted to die at home. So, we brought her home. Hospice came. Family gathered.

It was Meg’s birthday (only 11 at the time) and another young cousin had a birthday approaching within days. What do you do? Read more