2-7-17

We are still here. We are making subtle, and not so subtle adjustments to life as we try to get settled in this new reality. We are starting some new things--we joined the Y this week. We have been accepting offers of going out and being social, which has felt good. I have been working on Drew's room. Took down his crib, took clothes out of his drawers, rearranged furniture and got book shelves. It's still a work in progress, but it's a start. I didn't just strip it of him though. I kept his name on the wall, his John Deere equipment, even his green-light alarm clock on the dresser that is now filled with puzzles and games. As I sat in there this morning doing some quiet time alone, it turned green at 7:00AM, time to get up Drewy!

Last week I feel like I turned a corner in this grief process from feeling relieved and probably a little numb, to having it all hit me. What happened in our world, and the sadness for what was lost. The biggest and most obvious everyday is his physical absence. I just miss him so much. I sit in this room and close my eyes, just trying to take myself back to a time when he was here, in this room, with me. When I could hold him, feel him, listen to him and smell him. I want him back. I wish it didn't have to be this way. I can feel how easy it is to totally give in to this pain. To not want to do anything else but nurse the hurt.

But I hear God calling me. Telling me it will be okay. In the first week I've been back into Community Bible Study here in Austin, God has been reminding me of the truths he's taught me this year. Like the story of Peter who got out of the boat and walked on water to meet Jesus, only to start to sink as he took his eyes off of Him. Likewise, I need to keep my eyes fixed on Him. We have done amazing things through Him this year, not so different than walking on water in some ways. But I can not keep going if take my focus off of Him, who gave us the power to get this far in the first place.

I've been saying that Drew's death has felt like childbirth in many ways. First, we were told this would be the way it would end. As strongly as medical staff could tell us. And also by God himself I believe, through bible versus He took me too, and just a painful understanding in my heart. In a way we were "pregnant" with this looming outcome since Halloween. Which I am thankful for in a way. I'm so glad I had the opportunity to savor every day with him. It made the "lasts" more painful, but at least I knew they were the lasts, and could capture them. In my mind and heart, but also in pictures and video. I have a video of him swinging for the last time at our park. We have tons of images of his last Christmas. His last time swimming. Even his last night in his bed, I took several pictures because we had taken the side off and made his crib into a "big boy" bed. God blessed us with these gifts, and I can chose to be thankful for them, and it helps some.

We also had several "false alarms" with Drew leading up to the real event. The biggest right before our trip with the eye infection. I honestly thought all was lost. But we got another 2 weeks, and a magical trip. Then even during the week we was dying we had a couple times he gave us a scare, only to recover. Those times really helped me examine myself--am I ready for this? Do I really believe all I say I do? Will I look to the only One who can truly rely on for strength? Again, I can choose to be thankful that I got several chances to prepare myself.

Then the actual physical process of dying--was remarkably like watching a the process of a birth. And he was laboring, preparing to leave his plagued body to be born into eternal life. We wiped his brow, gave him sips of water, held his hand. Prayed over him, and whispered encouraging things to him. And finally, in a most beautiful and peaceful way, he was born into Eternity. I am so glad for the Grace of God to have opened my eyes to have seen it that way, to see the beauty in it. So glad that if he had to go, I could see him there. I brought him into this world, and I saw him out of it.

Which bring us to now--post partum. In my opinion the worst stage of giving birth. The rollercoaster of emotions, the sadness that everything has changed. The figuring out what to do now, how we are going to operate in this new, unfamiliar place. I struggled after Molly was born. For several months I wondered if I'd ever feel like myself again. And I did. How? I really developed my faith in Jesus. He saw me through that period of my life by teaching me how to pray, to rely on him daily, to trust in the bigger picture, to be thankful. And in the last year with Drew, the Holy Spirit has deepened these tools to not just surviving when life gets tough, but doing great things through Him. So I will continue in these habits. Choosing every day to trust in Him, to be thankful, to pray and ask for strength. I will feel like myself again. We will get better and go on to do great things to further the Kingdom of God. But first I must recharge. Pour out my hurt to the only One who can heal. And he will. Then I will get back up from this, and follow where He leads.

On a housekeeping note, I will soon be moving these posts to a new blogsite. I feel we need to transition this from CaringBridge, which to me is Drew's story, to a new place that will be the home of our story from here on out. So stay tuned! I'll post the link for a couple times once I transfer to it so anyone that wants to continue to follow us can find it.

These are pictures from this weekend where they did a Plunge into the lake to raise funds for cancer research, a team jumped in honor of Drew.

~Heidi