Finding The New Normal

the things you miss the most

2011-10-31T20:09:00.000-07:00

In writing my last post, I realized that its been a year since my last blog. To those of you out here that looked to this site as comfort, I apologize for my absence. To those of you who have encouraged me to get back on the horse, thank you. Saying this let me double up tonight...

It's been far too long.

It's been one of those nights. A night of too much thinking, too little sleep, and way to much NETFLIX. Good Will Hunting was on the list. I think one of the greatest quotes on love comes from the movie and few recognize its greatness. Let me share...

Sean: My wife used to fart when she was nervous. She had all sorts of wonderful little idiosyncrasies. She used to fart in her sleep. I thought I’d share that with you. One night it was so loud it woke the dog up. She woke up and went ‘ah was that you?’ And I didn’t have the heart to tell her. Oh!
Will: She woke herself up?
Sean: Ah...! But Will, she’s been dead for 2 years, and that's the stuff I remember: wonderful stuff you know? Little things like that. Those are the things I miss the most. The little idiosyncrasies that only I know about: that's what made her my wife. Oh she had the goods on me too, she knew all my little peccadilloes. People call these things imperfections, but there not. Ah, that's the good stuff.

The Good Stuff. I know few men who could look me in the eyes and tell me they love the farts of their wife. Few people in general miss the farts. But watching it I completely understand where he is coming from. If you have lost someone close to you, I mean someone really close to you, you miss the farts. Maybe not the literal farts but you miss those little things that no one else knew you else even knew existed.

I know with Amber, I still struggle to this moment on tough days, I pick up the phone wanting to call her. We were each others support system. There's a part of me missing. My mind goes pack to the time we were kids. Swimming. Playing. Growing up. School. Taking care of one another. The good stuff. And don't let yourself be fooled, this is the good stuff. Don't let the good stuff pass through fingers. And each day you wake up without that special someone, smile because of the good times you had together!

Sean: You'll have bad times, but it'll always wake you up to the good stuff you weren't paying attention to.

arm wrestling?

2011-10-31T19:27:00.000-07:00

Tonight I was watching a movie on arm wrestling, don't ask! It gets to this point in the movie the Russian phenom starts talking about an ancient Chinese fable. I found a retelling of it and want to share it with anyone who might find this one day....

A monk walks alone in a forest. The leaves rustle in the wind. The sun penetrates the foliage and lies dappled on the forest floor. The bushes, trees and wildflowers give off a fecund musk. He is happy as he slowly makes his way home. Suddenly a tiger springs out on the trail behind him and snarls, leaping. He runs. The tiger gains on him. Now sprinting, his mind a torment of fear, he crashes through a bush and reaches a precipice. The tiger is right on him. He leaps. Twisting, he spies a cliffside bush. A thorny blackberry branch meets his hand. He grasps it. A thorn pierces his palm, and he cries out. Looking down, he sees another tiger, circling far below. Despondent, and in pain, he moans, uncertain whether to let go, and face the tiger below, or pull himself up, and risk the tiger above. Suddenly, he spots a blackberry, large and luscious. His fears immediately dissolve, and, captivated, he reaches out, plucks it, and savours it.

After losing someone you love, one of the hardest things that you will ever do is to truly savour that blackberry. Our pasts have overtaken us, our futures seem to be more than we can handle and the future becomes a blur.

There's so many people who never move out of the past. Their loss come to define them. The birthdays, the anniversaries, the holidays are all just one more reason to mourn. There's no more rejoicing. Another reason to wake up the day before. You're haunted by the unanswered questions. The maybes. The what-ifs. The might-have-beens.

The inability to move out of the past really just puts extra emphasis on the future. The focus on the tragedy overwhelms the capacity you have to live or love the present. There is soooo much fear that something bad can and will happen again, you're handcuffed to really live.

That's where you find the bereaved. Hanging on onto a blackberry bush, staring, trying to decide which tiger is the lesser of two evils. The REAL difference is their failure to appreciate the blackberry that hangs in front of them. I think it so far beyond appreciation. I'm not sure most of us even recognize the blackberry. There's so many of who have grown to hate the blackberry.

What is it going to take for you to learn to savour the blackberry that hangs in front of us?

All of this makes me think of another great movie. "There is a saying: yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the "present."" ~Master Oogway

is it over yet?

2010-10-21T19:05:00.000-07:00

The other day I overheard someone talking about a family who lost a loved one, they were asked to continue to remember them in prayer (it's been a couple of weeks). He replied its still going to be a while it usually takes a year or a year and a half for the grieving process. The guy meant no harm. I read the same thing in multiple books (it's usually followed by it's different for every person.....).

But we can' sit there watching a clock, thinking that life will ever be the same again. When life rocks you, you change. Foever. You're not the same person ever again. Everything that made you who you are is different. The things that mad you happy, the things that made you sad, the things made you laugh, the things made you cry. You've changed.

Yes life does go on. Hopefully you'll laugh and enjoy it once more. But its a new normal.

At acceptance is everything better? At that point when you interact with society is everything better? At the point when you can laugh and sit through a movie is everything better? Not at all but this is your life. you have to live it one day at time. The grieving process is a LIFELONG process that you will experience forever.

the world keeps going

2010-10-13T12:21:00.000-07:00

Two years have flown by. So much has happened. I can't say it's gotten easier living without her, but at least at this point I know I can survive. One of the hardest realities that hits you soon after you lose someone is that world doesn't stop. Life must go on. As you drive around soaking in your anger, hurt, frustration and questions you notice something, no one else seems to be too concerned. They sit in their cars talking on their phones, laughing, smiling, enjoying life. And you're just there, existing for the moment.

I really have no room to talk. In ministry I grew way too comfortable at funerals and to this day still really am. I lost people close to me and went on like nothing was wrong and thats what a lot of people expect out of us. But for those of us out there who have lost part of us when someone we loved has passed on, you ask yourself how can the world just keep going on like nothing happened? As you drive around and wonder if you'll ever to laugh like that, we have to remember the world keeps going. Does the warrant anger and frustrations? Maybe... but what's more important in these moments is a healthy remembrance of those who we have lost and those close to us who have lost someone.

Remember the good times, the times you laughed, the times you cried, the precious seconds you had with them not just the fact they aren't here with us. That's the true injustice, simplifying someone's life to the second when we lost them or the a funeral.

2010-08-22T11:03:00.000-07:00

life is no nintendo game

2010-07-28T18:50:00.001-07:00

Growing up a middle-class, white kid from the Burbs in the late 90's one thing came natural ~ liking Eminem (don't hate). I think it might embedded in my DNA or fed to me through subliminal messages or maybe it was forced down my throat by MTV. I remember the nights working in restaurants and any time you had a white line cook you WOULD hear at some point the Marshall Mathers LP! I say all this because I never got rid of that white kid... and the other day we were listening to the new Recovery CD (not bad by the way). But as I listened to Love the Way Lie on repeat a line hit me, "life is no nintento game."

Before Eminem, I had an NES system. Game of choice, Contra. I could play it for hours. The best thing about Nintento games is that no matter what you do you always come back to this screen. You can play for hours, you can mess up as many times as you want to, die and you always end up back here....

Life is quite so kind. One mistake is one too many. Mess up, there's no reset button. The decisions we are making MATTER. Your life at this very moment MATTERS. This is it. As a famous musician once so eloquently put it "if you had one shot, or one opportunity, To seize everything you ever wanted - One moment, Would you capture it or just let it slip?" We can't get to a point in our life we look back with disgust at the we lived, at the decisions we made. We can't live our whole life feeling guilty.

There is a saying: yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the "present." Life is no Nintento game. Today is a blessing, what are you doing with it?

Waking Up

2010-06-18T18:17:00.000-07:00

I'm not a morning person. Never have been. I'll never forget one time being in middle school-ish and my Dad picking me out of bed, setting me in the bath tub and turning the cold shower on (although he would probably deny ever doing such a thing).

Its been a busy summer, and I haven't had much sleep. My wife has been trying to help me keep m job by not letting me sleep til noon this past week, but in doing so she has been given the horrific task of waking me up. This morning, she began round one with an angelic 'good morning.' It really couldn't have been said any nicer, and I think at that point I might have growled. As I laid there awaking, all I could think about was Amber calling and saying 'good morning my little rosebud, its time to blossom.'

I know I've mentioned this before, but the things that matter most in life aren't how nice your house is, or even if you have a house. Its not the fact that you drive a Volo or Geo Metro. Its not how much stock you have or looking through your car for enough to grab some fast food. Life is made of little precious moments, that we take for granted each and every day. The housing market has crashed, my trusty red jeep has given out on me yet (but is close) and all that eating out made me fat, but I would give every penny in world to wake up to a phone call from Amber.

Happy Birthday Gosh!

gone fishing

2010-05-08T19:00:00.000-07:00

its that time of year again. fishing time. i took some kids in the youth group the other day. caught a ton of fish. had a great time. never really sure what drove me to fishing. just always thought it was peaceful. it was my great escape.

anyways... fishing was always an opportunity to spend time with the people who were close to you and still is to this day.

i recently bought a new camera. dont want to let any of life's precious moments to slip through my fingers. i needed a little memory stick and remembered an old one i had back in the day. found it. had some great pics on it. teared up a good bit. but smiled at the same time. wanted to share these with yall. hope you enjoy.

fear

2010-04-29T10:47:00.000-07:00

I think one of the worst aftereffects of losing a loved one, is living the rest of your life in fear. It still bothers me when Jenny leaves on a road trip, I try not to let it show. But you can't stop your mind from wandering. All you can think of are the what-ifs. The tragic always outweighs the happily ever afters. When people tell me they're coming to see me, I always tell them to be safe, not out of politeness but because inside me I'm genuinely concerned that there's that chance that something bad can happen. I don't like to not tell people how much I love them because the fact that this is the last time you might ever see that person is REAL.

And now that we're expecting a baby girl, the scenarios that play in my head are haunting. I keep imagining myself in my father's shoes. I try to invent ways to protect my family, but we are truly so powerless as people. Life has to be lived, bad things will happen. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm at an impasse. On one side I see an over protective father not letting his child live their life and on the other I see a man who lives in constant fear that he'll get a late night phone call.

I hope and pray each night that I can be the best father I can be. That my tragedy only helps me love her more. I will always be afraid of losing those who are closest to me.....

Amber Grace Vego

2010-04-20T08:43:00.000-07:00

I have a little girl who is due at the beginning of August. I'm going to name her Amber Grace Vego in honor of my sister. It's something I struggled with, I just didn't know if I could emotionally having a little blonde-haired little girl named Amber running around the house without losing it once in a while (assuming she has blonde hair). But the second Jenny and I saw the ultrasound it just felt right.

This is another one of those huge steps in life where grief hurts the most. You think about little Amber never being able to going shopping with crazy Aunt Amber or the gifts I know she would have showered upon her or maybe the stories that would be told to her as she got a little older. It sucks that she'll never get the chance to meet one of the coolest people I ever knew. She'll never get to laugh the way she could make me laugh. To cry the way she could make me cry.

I guess I'm writing this to say Aunt Amber, we love you!

trying to hold on

2010-03-26T14:16:00.000-07:00

I've had the same cell phone for years. There are few things in this world that I hate more than changing phones, I guess it's kind of sad but our cell phones are becoming part of who we are. You get used to always having it, the way t works, texting on it... and then you get the new one with all the technology you can't figure out how to use, the buttons are too far apart, the new ringtones suck. But I really hate saying goodbye to this phone because it has the last text messages Amber ever sent to me. I've known this day was coming for awhile and have been debating on what to do with the messages. I could hold on to the phone but it would just sit in the box of memories, so I decided to share some our last text with the world....

A couple of days before Amber's accident see came to Arkansas (where I was living at the time) and started texting me on the way there.

While in Memphis, Amber: "I sure wish I had a thrift store shopping partner today"

one of our favorite things to do was thrift store shop. i stumbled upon in high school and feel in love. it became mine and her therapy. when she or i would have a bad day we would hop in the jeep and head for midtown. we could spend hours and not buy a thing and just enjoy the time we had together. later after she went off to mtsu, she would always bring me stuff home from the thrift stores up there. she had it down to an art.

We talked a little about church and she told they were crossing the bridge into Arkansas. She expressed to me how bored she was and started talking about dinner. I asked here what she was hungry for.

Amber: "Mexican, seafood, a good salad. I dont really care"

If thrift store shopping was our hobby, eating was our occupation. Its what we did, it was who we were. The question wasnt are we going out to eat, but where. How could we ever forget those meals. Salmon at J Alexanders, a salad at McCalisters, some good Mexican food. Even something like a meal together can become a memory that lasts forever. I just wish I could continually remind myself that I ever I time I sit down for dinner.

We talked about Gadge. About dinner. About "his jenny".

Those last couple of days were so incredible. They were fun, stupid, we went antique shopping for rocking chairs, thrift store shopping, platos closet, ate some good meals, watched some tv, played in the backyard with the puppy dogs, walked around and talked about life, talked about relationships and the future. Its so weird. We had one of those big brother, little sister moments right before she left about what she wanted in life. Never once did it cross my mind that I would be hugging her for the last time.

Its time to get rid of the phone. Sometimes its hard, but necessary, to let go of grieving stuff but that doesn't mean that the memories are gone. Its so hard to clean out that closet or even to walk in the attic. But what are we really holding on to? Amber isnt a text message or an old shirt, but thats what its seems like she became.

Hold on to the right things.

tuning it all out

2010-02-07T13:07:00.000-08:00

I tend to stay busy. Real busy. I usually come home exhausted (yes, even though youth ministers don't work). I constantly keep my mind stimulated; work, books, tv, video games, computers. . . I couldn't tell you the last time I did nothing (when I say nothing I mean go out without an ipod, lay down without the tv or book, do something without a hidden agenda).

I think I'm afraid of what my mind has to offer, of the thoughts or memories that could creep in. As long as I keep pressing forward, I'm too busy too turn around at look behind me. This neck-breaking speed can't be good for anyone. And I'm not getting anywhere faster.

I'm tuning it out. I'm constantly on people about not giving up after loss, but am I really doing any better. I have just chosen a different defense mechanism. Something I'm more comfortable with and makes me look better. I have to quit tuning life out, quit tuning grief out, quit tuning out the things in life that make me happy.

my muchacha

2010-02-04T12:01:00.000-08:00

So here are 1.5 years later and Amber still manages to be the first and last thing I think about everyday. I find myself grasping at straws.. a song comes on the radio we both liked-- it must be her sending me a sign, I dream about her and I convince myself it was her really wanting to hang out. It can be quite pathetic at times, but its all we have. I watched our Senior video over and over just to see clips of her in motion. It seems more real than a picture.
I feel like i should be "better," but what does this entail. We just have to learn to live with this new normal even though most days I am not a big fan of this new life. My life is now defined as "life before Amber" and "life after" and they are drastically different. When she was alive I never realized how important she was to me and how valuable she had been to my life. I can say I am a better person because of her death, but sometimes I feel like Im the only one who has learned a lesson. It is very frustrating. So many people we know are still out their risking their lives and hurting others despite the knowledge that life can be taken so quickly.
I could ramble on for hours about her and for this I am greatful. I like knowing that she will remain on my mind and in my heart for the rest of my life. This has been such a surreal process and continues to be a life lesson. I met a guy whose son had died 19 years ago in a car accident. His son was the only one killed in the wreck. He talked about his son as if he were alive yesterday and the emotions of the wreck came flooding back in an istant. He was crying within in 5 minutes of talking about him. He glowed when he talked about how wonderful he was and became enraged as he thought more about the wreck. It was refreshing to see someon share the same emotions I feel daily. It is a bittersweet thought to think in 19 years I will still be crying and emotional about our loss. This dad said he still thinks about his son first thing every morning and he too grasps onto dreams of him. So us grievers are not alone, even though it often feels like we are.

expect much?

2009-12-22T18:19:00.001-08:00

This world is full of expectations. People are full of expectations. You're full of expectations.

It wasn't too long in the grieving that I realized people were beginning to expect me to be 'better', that it's about time to be normal again. Soon I realized people's expectations were becoming my own. Days had gone by, then it was weeks, months followed soon behind, and I was still in pain.

I went to my first grief counseling group secession (yeah a year and a half after Amber passed away). Tonight the counselor said something, he told me I can't expect too much out of myself. There is so much pressure on us, to be the people that other people want us to be. So many expectations, some realistic, some not. Expectations do influence who we are as people, but should they? I can't expect that today is the day that I find the new norm. I am where I am. I have to accept that. We have to start accepting people for who they are not who we expect them to be. Maybe then could you see the real new norm.

25

2009-12-05T10:11:00.001-08:00

25 today. Its hard to think of not being able to call her and sing her happy birthday today, because I know that's what see what have done for me. Its days like today when you think about how short life can be. I still take so much for granted. Still watch pass me by. Who would have ever thought I would spend Amber's birthday crying in the front yard and blogging about how hard life is?

She would hate this. Amber always made a situation better. If was a sad day, she would make you laugh; a tough day, she would carry your burden; a sad day, she was the shoulder to cry on. . . No matter how dark or bleak the day would look, the air changed when she walked into the room.

I hope that we can always remember Amber on days like today. I hope we can remember the life that she led and look back and smile. Not only that I hope we can look forward to the years, days or seconds to come and lead the lives that would make her happy, that would make us happy. Lives of happiness, joy, and love. She was such a passionate person, let us follow in suit!

Happy Birthday Amber

I will always love you,

your lil brother!

Thanks Morrie

2009-10-31T20:35:00.000-07:00

"Morrie honked loudly into the tissue. "This is okay with you, isn't it? Men crying?"

Sure, I said, too quickly.

He grinned. "Ah, Mitch, I'm gonna loosen you up. One day, I'm gonna show you it's okay to cry."

Yeah, yeah, I said.

"Yeah, yeah," he said."

These past couple of posts have been quotes have been quotes from Tuesdays with Morrie. Morrie. I never met Morrie. But I know him. Every time I have read this book I tear up when Morrie's ALS finally got the best of him. His courage, his ability to look at the glass half full, his willingness to accept the cards life dealt. But I have never read through the eyes of someone who has lost someone close to them. When I lost Morrie this time, I wept. I cried in the arms of my wife, I cried like I haven't in a long time.

At the end it Mitch mentions talking to his younger self and what he would tell him to do differently, that's the part that really got me. I couldn't take it. I set the book down, I wasn't able to finish it later in the day. We all live our lives with that guilt, the what ifs, and what might have beens. There isn't a day that doesn't go by that I don't something I might have done differently.

Mitch says something, "I know I cannot do this. None of us can undo what we've done, or relive a life already recorded. but if Professor Morris Schwartz taught me anything at all, it was this: there is no such thing as "too lat" in life. He was changing until the day he said good-bye."

I want to quit beating myself up over the past and look to the brightness of the future. For every time I cry when I miss Amber I hope I can laugh aloud at the crazy good times we had together. This is to they moments she gave us, I know I will never forget them.

"he had finally made me cry."

Thanks Morrie for reminding me its ok to cry. . .

Experience them as well

2009-10-30T14:44:00.000-07:00

"How we feel lonely, sometimes to the point of tears, but we don't let those tears come because we are not supposed to cry. Or how we feel a surge of love for a partner but we don't say anything because we're frozen with the fear of what those words might do to the relationship.

Morrie's approach was exactly the opposite. Turn on the faucet. Wash yourself with the emotion. It won't hurt you. It will only help. If you let fear inside, if you will pull it on like a familiar shirt, then you can say to yourself, "All right, it's just fear, I don't have to let it control me. I see it for what it is."

Same for loneliness: you let go, let the tears flow, feel it completely - but eventually be able to say, "All right, the was my moment with loneliness. I'm not afraid of feeling lonely, but now I'm going to put that loneliness aside and know that there are other emotions in the world, and I'm going to experience them as well."

The pain still goes on?

2009-10-30T07:56:00.000-07:00

"Before the show ended, Morrie read Koppel one of the letters he'd received. Since the first "Nightline" program, there had been a great deal of mail. One particular letter came from a schoolteacher in Pennsylvania who taught a special class of nine children; every child in the class had suffered the death of a parent.

"Here's what I sent her back," Morrie told Koppel, perching his glasses gingerly on his nose and ears. "Dear Barbara. . . I was very moved by your letter. I feel the work you have done with the children who have lost a parent at an early age . . .'"

Suddenly, the cameras still humming, Morrie adjusted the glasses. He stopped, bit his lip, and began to choke up. Tears fell down his nose. "'I lost my mother when I was a child . . . and it was quite a blow to me . . . I wish I'd had a group like yours where I would have been able to talk about my sorrows. I wouls have joined your group because . . .'"

His voice cracked.

"'. . . because I was lonely. . .'"

"Morrie," Koppel said, "that was seventy years ago when your mother died. The pain still goes on?"

"You bet," Morrie whispered."

Some mornings. . .

2009-10-30T07:15:00.000-07:00

"There are some mornings when I cry and cry and mourn for myself. Some mornings, I'm so angry and bitter. But it doesn't last too long. Then I get up and say, 'I want t love...'"

Now What?

2009-10-29T22:17:00.000-07:00

"My old professor, meanwhile, was stunned by the normalcy of the day around him. Shouldn't the world stop? Don't they know what has happened to me?

But the world did not stop, it took no notice at all, and as Morrie pulled weakly on the car door, he felt as if he were dropping into a hole.

Now what? he thought."

Year 1

2009-08-22T14:24:00.001-07:00

It's been one year. I went to bed last night thinking about Amber and woke up thinking about her, but something was different this morning. I woke up smiling. Not because I love her any less, but because I still love her. I realized something, for this past year I have literally been obsessed with our loss and doing so I have completely overlooked her life.

When we focus on that one tragic day where she was taken away we miss the thousands of days that we were blessed to have her by our side, the millions of memories that she left us with, the smile that we will never be forgotten. I want this to be my new norm. I want to love more and grieve less. I want to remember what it feels like to laugh and not feel guilty.

Life is full of ups and downs. We are fooling ourselves if we think that downs aren't around the corner; when we think we have found some immunity to pain. But we aren't doing any better when become so focused on downs that we no longer see the ups. The new norm has taught me many things. I want to be able to look at days like today and accept the good with bad. Smile if your happy, cry if your sad, but never quit living she would have never wanted that.

time

2009-08-20T18:13:00.000-07:00

One year, 12 months, 365 days, 8760 hours, 525600 minutes without her.

There is something daunting about this "anniversary." Our lives are based around time lines, i.e. we've dated for 3 years, we've known each other for 10 years, i graduate in 1 year, I've worked there for 2 years, and she has been gone 1 year. Your supposed to stop counting after a year right? It wouldn't be normal to say, "she's been gone 16 months." That to everyone else would be weird. But really, when you think about someone every single day you don't lose track of time. In fact time is all you have. The time you had with them and the time you will no longer get to spend with them.

In some respect I feel like I've been feeling this way forever, but it also feels like it was just yesterday I received the phone call. In fact, life for me now is known as before Amber died and life after Amber died because they are totally different things. And those who are grieving or have ever grieved know what I am talking about.

I have gotten used to this new normal, but that doesn't mean i like it. I have just learned to live with it. She is gone, I get that, but I don't accept it. So once again, time is the only thing that heals. But how much time are we talking? No one has the answer to that.

What I can tell you is that the void doesn't get smaller, the hurt doesn't lessen, and the love doesn't stop. Some days are better than others. Some days you can find the good in the situation, some you're angry and depressed, and some days you just don't get it. So the stages of grief must fluctuate.

One year isn't long enough to get over her, but its long enough to make her voice harder to hear, her hug harder to feel, and her smell harder to smell.. all of those little things we take for granted in everyday life. But everyday I try to picture her from head to toe to make sure I never forget. I dont think I could ever forget her, but I think its a common fear of those who have lost someone. We have our memories to hold on too and tight we will hold them.

Some things I remember...
1. her laugh
2. chewing her lip
3. her high ponytails and buns
4. jeans and flip flops
4. her tan
5. afrosheen for tanning lotion!
6. cherry chapstick
7. writing on her bedroom walls
8. texting
9. her made bed 24/7
10. putting on makeup together

I could go on and on and on. What a wonderful person she was and what a blessing she was to my life and everyone elses. She was the first to laugh and smile and the last to cry. She loved every story you told her (or at least pretended to) Everything was a big deal to her. She was ALWAYS right. She was amazing.

In time we will get adjusted to life without her, but NEVER will she be forgotten. Everyday there is a reminder of what happiness she brought into our lives. You can only pray and trust in God that he knows what he is doing. My girl made it to heaven in 23 years. If you ask me that's impressive as much as it hurts to be without her. She made it to where we all are trying to get.

Gosh

I Cried Again Today

2009-08-08T11:47:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I broke down. This morning was just too much for me too handle. I cried. As I mentioned before in these blogs one of the hardest parts for me has been these dreams, last night was no exception. I've talked to quite a few people about the grief dreams, some people love them and some do not. I understand the likeable part, it gives you one more chance to see that someone you loved, it feels so real, like they are really in you presence one more time. It makes sense why certain people cherish the dreams. But that first second as you wake up and begin to wonder what's going on, the grogginess still has control of you, reality hasn't set in yet, your reaching for the phone to call them (or feeling around the bed to see where they are.) Then in the following minutes your brain feels it necessary to remind you what the past year of your life has been like. Those are the minutes that I can't handle.

Last night I dreamt that Amber had gone to camp with me, and then my father had showed up. It was so real, like I was being given one last chance to spend with her. The scenic beauty that surrounded us, hearing her laugh at my corny jokes, sitting together making fun of every body. Waking up to reality is so upseting.

Side Note: I'm reading a book right now titled Every Day Deserves A Chance. Good book. It has really been helping a lot. It talks simply about eacha dn every day that we live on this earth is another day that God has made and it deserves the chance to be a good day. But on days like today I wonder if they even have a chance. I wish I could apprecaite those dreams as so many of you out there do. I wish that I could find comfort, but I'm just so selfish.

It's been almost a year and the forecast is still gloomy, the pain isn't any less real. I was told that only time could heal. I'm not sure healing is part of this process. I think its more of a coming to grips with this new normal. Sorry to be so sad, I will make the next blog a postive one.

The New Norm

2009-07-19T19:08:00.001-07:00

The thought behind this whole blog was really an exploration of me physically, spiritually, emotionally, and everything in between finding my new norm. When you lose someone close to you, your life shatters that instance. When you decide that you're ready to return to the world (broken and devastated) it's time to start piecing everything back together again. Slowly the grieving process begins. You're confused, hurt, sad. You start searching for answers only to find that your appetite is one that can't be filled. You read the books, you go to the support groups, you do the blogging. You become angry, the resentment sets in, you start to ask God why, at times you blame God. Throughout this past almost year it has been one crazy installment to my so called life. I wish I had answers to everyone's questions, I wish I had words of encouragement for those who are still hurting, I wish I could be a light to those searching in the darkness.

But this is the new norm whether you like or not. Your choices are limited. You either choose to keep going or you can quit. Seeing people quit around me has been one of the most difficult parts of the entire process. Throughout the next couple of weeks I want to explore what the new norm is like. For those of you out there who have experienced a loss you know how difficult it can be, how much the new norm can help you appreciate the world around you, the good the bad and the in between that comes with the life you have chosen to go on with.For those of you out there who haven't experienced something like this I hope and pray that you never have to. But the realist in me knows that on a long enough time line disaster is going to enter the picture and when it does I hope this blog and be somewhat a comfort (if any can be found).

Unpretending

2009-07-16T21:01:00.000-07:00

"People who pretend have pretend relationships."
~Mike Yaconelli

One of my least favorite things about being a minister is causal conversation (yes I realize that this probably extends into most occupations out there, but I always assumed it would be different here). Let me explain, my job is to help a busy world try to be spiritual while try to remain spiritual myself. If you can't be honest with the guy who is trying to help, in a place set on helping then who can you be honest with and where can you do it?

I don't mind small talk... What I'm not a huge fan of is when you ask someone how they are and then you're slapped in the face with "fine," and if you're lucky you get the cordial "and how are you." (This theoretically isn't an inappropriate response, but when "fine" becomes the mask you wear to make the world think you're making it.) Try it. Ask people how they are doing. You probablly do yourself, a lot, I know I do. You'll get a lot of fines. Not many people are "fine." It doesn't add up.

"There is no room for pretending in the spiritual life. Unfortunately, in many religious circles, there exists an unwritten rule. Pretend. Act like God is in control when you don't believe he is. Give the impression everything is okay in your life when it's not. Pretend you believe when you doubt; hide your imperfections; maintain the image of a perfect marriage with healthy and well-adjusted children when your family is like any other normal dysfunctional family. And whatever you do, don't admit that you sin."

~ Yaconelli

I say this because I pretend. I pretend everything is all right when it's not. I pretend like I'm strong when I'm weak. I pretend like I've got it together when I'm falling apart. We can't make it in this word pretending. The only way to get better is to open up. To show the word your a mess and hope there is someone out there who can help, and if there isn't at least you tried. I didn't blog for two months because I was pretending. I bottled it up, while tonight I will let it spill out...

"But the truth is, we are all a mess. None of us is who we appear to be. We all have secrets. We all have issues. We all struggle from time to time. No one is perfect. Not one."

~ Yaconelli

(I might regret saying this one day, but for now) be honest. When someone asks you how you are doing, tell them the truth. You might lose a 'friend' or two but they were never really you're friends. Make them regret aking you how you're doing. Start unpretending.

Unfolding Your Deck Chair

2009-07-16T19:06:00.001-07:00

"One of my favorite Peanuts cartoons shows Lucy sitting at her five-cent psychology booth when Charlie Brown stops for advice. “Life is like a deck chair, Charlie Brown,” she says. “On the cruise ship of life, some people place their chair at the rear of the ship so they can see where they have been. Others place their chair at the front of the ship so they can see where they are going.”

The good doctor Lucy looks at the puzzled Charlie Brown and asks, “Which way is your deck chair facing?”

Without hesitation Charlie replies glumly, "I can't even get my deck chair unfolded."

Charlie and I are soul mates."

Quoted from Messy Spirituality

happy birthday...

2009-07-15T20:39:00.000-07:00

Let me start by saying, I'm not a huge of birthdays. Never have been, not exactly sure why. I guess it could be the fact that I don't eat cake, I'm not hugely fond of large celebrations, and don't really the awkwardness of getting presents. But the one thing that always made me smile on my birthday was that early morning phone call. The one that wakes you up wondering, what kind of person is awake at this hour.

Amber was always the first person to wish me a happy birthday, she would call me and sing at the top of her lungs and "Happy Birthday Little Brother" (even though I was turning 2 years older than she was). But it was always my fondest memory and my birthday.

Life Goes On...

2009-05-05T20:51:00.001-07:00

Life goes on. I say this somewhat reluctantly. Also I say this not so much for encouragement but because after tragedy strikes there is other choice. Life goes on. Though there are times were this may not feel to be the case, the moments when time can move no slower, the times when you wish things like time didn’t exist; life goes on. Months roll by, I add anther book to the bereavement section of my library but the pain is still real. I guess when I think about it, I don’t know why I thought it would go away or get better. Life doesn’t seemed so concerned with my problems, not once has this world slowed down and asked, “I wonder how that Ross Vego is doing?” I guess life just has better things to be doing on a Tuesday night…

This blog post needs an uplifting spin. I look back and search for the positive in my life. I no longer take the gift of life for granted, I can’t express in words how much I realize this or how often I think about it. I always worried about my family, losing one of my parents or a grandparent but I was so foolish to think that Amber was going to be with me forever; that she would always be me crutch through the tough times and someone to laugh with through the good times (I know there are so many others out there that feel exactly the same way. I always felt she was invincible.). But now I can begin to grasp the just how quickly life is given and taken away from us. How childish we are in thinking that it’s ours to do as we please with. I say again like I have said to so many of you, take nothing for granted. Cherish the moments, the seconds you have with those you love. Call someone you haven’t talked to in awhile. Tell people you love them even if you think they know. Never miss out on an opportunity you think some day you might regret.

Laughing Again

2009-03-10T21:12:00.000-07:00

I was reading through Bonnie's blog (http://sweetcarolinebaby.blogspot.com) the other day and found she had stumbled upon something hugely important, happiness. The times when I am genuinely happy aren't quite as often as I would like them to be and to top that off when one of these glimpses of happiness arises, guilt sets in. It seems to be a struggle that most grievers face; the guilt of laughing again. I found a quote in I wasn't ready to say Goodbye that I wanted to share,

"At times, it's hard to laugh - we feel guilty for "going on." We wonder if our laughing makes our grief less real - if our memories will fade - if people will think we don't miss the deceased.

If only there were rules to grief, how much easier it would be. Laughter and happiness can become haunting. How should we look? How should we act? If we look like we are having fun, what might people think? Is it okay to just forget for a while - to try and escape what has happened?

The answers are all within your heart. There is nothing you need to do, or act like, for the sake of others. Don't worry about how anyone perceives you. It's alright to escape for a while, to watch a comedy - to laugh. Remember, the person who has passed on is one who would wish you nothing but the best. Your laughter becomes their laughter as well."

So often I feel like the man in the picture, wearing a mask for the world to see. A mask that shows that I'm happy again, laughing once more but inside there is a struggle. Is it right for me to laugh, is it too soon? I think it might be time. Time to stop hating life and start enjoying it, time to stop feeling guilty and start feeling free, time to cry less and to start laughing again. And if you aren't there yet, that's okay. I'm not sure I'm there yet either but I'm hopeful that someday I will be there.

Birds of Sorrow

2009-03-07T12:27:00.000-08:00

"You cannot prevent the birds of sorrow from flying over your head, but you can prevent them from building nests in your hair." ~ Chinese Proverb

Harriet Sarnoff Schiff said, "Unless we are suicidal, we have no alternative." So here we are, with a choice. No, not the choice to live or take our own life, but the choice wether we live or just exist.

When we loss someone who means so much to us we find it hard to find the motivation to keep living. So many of us choose to opt out and begin just existing. There are so people out there who have choose this lifestyle of barely getting by. They eat, sleep, go to work, and functioning but inside they're hollow. So often I feel I wake up and exist; I want to live.

The Invisible Blanket

2009-03-03T09:17:00.000-08:00

"There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would take to one another and not to me." ~ C. S. Lewis

"Grief sometimes changes a person's lifestyle and personality. Pain becomes overwhelming. There is a feeling of dejection, a loss of interest, and inhibition of activities, panic, hostility toward one's self, and other signs of low self-esteem."

"Our society conditions is to be quiet in the face of death. Doctors and nurses often so not talk about it. Death is made to seem like something which we should be ashamed. Self-esteem is lost. We are hurt. And "maybe I'm to blame."

"Immediately after the funeral, a grieving person often withdraws to himself. He may not go to work. He may not go to church. He usually avoids social activities. "No, no, no. I don't want to go. I'm not interested! I just don't have any purpose in life any more. I don't feel like getting up in the morning. I don't feel like cooking. There's no one to cook for. What's the use." ~ Bill Flatt

As I go back and look through these books I find myself wanting to be better but continually coming up short. I want to place myself in one these stages of grief so I can know how I am progressing or regressing for that matter is concerned. But I can't. I don't know where to start. I feel though six months later I should see some progress to finding this new norm of mine but I'm not sure that I am. I know I can pretend like I am when I need to. Maybe that's what its all about, I really don't think it is. You see these people who lost loved ones long before I was ever born and you hear the stories you should have have seen them before... I coming to think that this new norm may not be what I am hoping for.

Bill Flatt in his book Growing through Grief had this to offer, "If you are at a low point now, hang on. You cannot go any lower when you hit bottom. And time may help you a great deal. Depression tends to go in cycles. God has given you additional life; He wants you to use it. There will be plenty of time to die "when your time comes.""

"Think of it this way: If you had died before your loved one, how would you want your loved ones to react? You would want them to Express sorrow at the loss, to respect and appreciate your memory, and then to go on with their lives. That's what I want you to do. As one widower in one of our groups said, "I suddenly realized that I have some more leaves in my book to write." And you do, too. It takes strength and courage to write them, but you can do it. And you will be glad you did."

I'm hanging on but not by much. I smile but I'm not sure what for. I laugh but its out politeness. I pray that I'll never see the bottom again but life shows no favoritism. And if this is depression I hope its more like chicken pox than cancer. I hope that you go through it once and then are immune to it opposed to being something that I will struggle with the rest of my life. But what I want more than anything is just the capability to live life once again. I know life will never be the same and I am prepared to handle that. But like in that first quote I want to know how to remove this blanket that lies in between me and the rest of the world.

Every Cloud has a Silver Lining

2009-02-23T19:52:00.000-08:00

"Sometimes when one person is missing the whole word seems depopulated." ~ Lamartine

These past six months have been the hardest time of my short life. Its been near impossible at moments to continue on. C. S. Lewis said it best, "The act of living is different all through. Her absence is like the sky, spread all over everything." There is no escaping the darkness and pain that loss can make you feel. BUT I am ready to begin my search for the silver lining (well not really but living in the dark is not how life was meant to be). Wolfelt says in Understanding Your Grief, "Still, you are blessed. Your life has a purpose and meaning without the presence of the person who died. It will take you some time and feel this through for yourself."

I hope within these blogs you begin to see a shimmer of light, I hope you can begin to see the silver lining. I hope we can look back at the pictures and think about those memories and smile, I hope you can remember the good times we had and laugh (and maybe cry a little every now and then). Thank you all for your love and support through this time of heartache. Thank you for the encouragement. I know this is a slow process and for those of you walking with I hope you too can someday see the silver lining. "Usually there is not one great moment of "arrival," but subtle changes and small advancements. It's helpful to have gratitude for even small steps forward. If you are beginning to taste your food again, be thankful. If you mustered the energy to meet your friend for lunch, be grateful. If you finally for a good night's sleep, rejoice," Wolfelt.

"What wound wound did ever heal but by degrees?" ~ William Shakespeare

"There is no sudden , striking, and emotional transition. Like the warming of a room or the coming of daylight, when you first notice them they have already been going on for some time." ~ C. S. Lewis

"The essence of finding meaning in the future is not to forget my past, as I have been told, but instead to embrace my past. For it is in listening in music of the past that I can sing in the present and dance into the future." ~ Alan Wolfelt

Long Ride Home (Part 2)

2009-02-19T20:25:00.000-08:00

I've had some time to think about you

And watch the sun sink like a stone

I've had some time to think about you

On the long ride home

~Patty Griffin

I've found that time alone can be be both haunting and healing, sometimes it helps and sometimes it hinders. Often it seems that most people are too afraid of what alone time can do, I know I was and still am at moments. I found one of the hardest problems I have had throughout these past couple of months is dealing with and distinguishing past memories. What I mean is this; Memories are a blessing, a gift from God, something that should be cherished BUT the questions, the constant staring in the rear-view mirror, the ability the past has to disable present and distort the future, the what-ifs and whys can drive even the most devoted lives to a halt.

(It truly saddens me to say this...) There are nights like tonight when I'll stay up hours blogging and looking through the highlighted portions of books I have read, hours spent flipping through baby pictures, time spent thinking about 'you really never know how much you'll miss them until they're gone', hours spent saying if I could do it over "I would..." reliving the good times and recalling the bad. Sometimes these moments have just been too much for me to handle, days when I literally couldn't function, for awhile if you did see me out of bed I really wasn't there, and then there were the days I just didn't get out bed at all. So what do I do when life is too much? I try to push the memories to the side (and I am so ashamed for it). Its like I'm not sure what else to do with them, and then the guilt sets in. I feel horrible for it, so I open the flood gates and let everything back in. Its seems to be a reoccurring theme. I can't function, so I pretend like nothing ever happened, I begin to feel bad for living again, the memories overtake me, and once again I can't function.

So I guess 'where I'm at' right now in this stage of my life is I'm still not ready to handle it, life is too much for me sometimes... The view in the mirror keeps me from going anywhere and the road over the horizon is always just out reach (kind of like that picture above). There is the bar in Memphis that promises "Free Burgers Tomorrow." That's how I feel. Everyday I wake up and I tell myself "just get through today tomorrow will be better". But tomorrow never comes. I'm coming to understand more and more just how different life will be but I not sure I'll truly ever grasp that this might be as good as life gets?

"Still, there's no denying that in some sense I 'feel better,' and with comes at once a sort of shame, and a feeling that one is under a sort of obligation to cherish and foment and prolong one's unhappiness." ~ C. S. Lewis

"I may try to protect myself from my sadness by not talking about my loss. I may even secretly hope that the person who died will come back if I don't talk about it. Yet, as difficult as it is, I must feel it to heal it." ~ Alan Wolfelt

Lesson 3. The Wilderness

2009-02-10T11:31:00.001-08:00

"Truly, it is in the darkness that one finds the light,

so when we are in sorrow then the light is nearest to all of us." -Meister Eckhart

"Think of your grief as a wilderness - a vast, mountainous, inhospitable forest. You are in the wilderness now. You are in the midst of unfamiliar and often brutal surroundings. You are cold and tired. Yet you must journey through this wilderness. To find your way out, you must become acquainted with its terrain and learn to follow the sometimes hard-to-find trail that leads to healing... And even when you've become a master journeyer, and you know well the terrain of your grief, you will at times feel like you are backtracking and being ravaged by the forces around you. This too, is the nature of grief. Complete mastery of grief is not possible. Just as we cannot control the winds and the storms and the beasts in nature, we can never have total dominion over our grief."

Lost, disoriented, bewildered. Caught in the thicket of the wilderness, a good day consists of a glimmer of light passing trough the trees to remind me that hope is still out there. Hope for something good to enter back in this dark forest. Its the little things that help me get by; a child laughing, a phone call from Pops seeing how everything is going, a hug from Jenny. Wilderness is such a incredible analogy for early on in the bereavement. As we walk through the wilderness, I hope you can see the glimmer of light, I hope that you aren't afraid to cry out for help, I hope you can find support and love from God and the people that surround you.

"How do you ever find your way out of the wilderness of your grief? You don't have to dwell there forever, do you? The good is no, you don't have to dwell there forever. But just as any significant experience in your life, the wilderness will always live inside you and be a part of who you are... But you may also be coming to understand one of the fundamental truths of grief: Your journey will never truly end. People so not "get over" grief... we are all forever changed by the experience of grief."

Long Ride Home (Part 1)

2009-02-07T20:28:00.000-08:00

It's amazing what 5 hours in the car alone can do to someone. How your thoughts can wander around the world and back while you are stuck behind the wheel of that car. Thinking, I found, has been one of hardest parts of the healing process. The memories are precious, I wouldn't trade the thoughts of the time my sister graced this earth for the world. But I feel torn. If I want to move forward it will have to be without her, therefore I refuse to leave but life can stop here and now. Amber wouldn't want it that way. I know she would blow me a kiss and bid me farewell. She would want to continue on. (I know I will always have the memories. I know that part of her will always be with me. But it’s not enough.)

As I was driving I kept thinking of thinking. Has it helped my healing? Has it hindered? What does it mean to heal? Is there even such a thing? But as I was thinking I recalled a C. S. Lewis quote:

Getting over it so soon? But the words are ambiguous. To say the patient is getting over it after an operation for appendicitis is one thing; after he's had his leg off it is quite another. After that operation either the wounded stump heals or the man dies. If it heals, the fierce, continuous pain will stop. Presently he'll get back his strength and be able to stump about on his wooden leg. He has 'got over it.' But he will probably have recurrent pains in the stump all his life, and perhaps pretty bad ones; and he will always be a one-legged man. There will be hardly any moment when he forgets it. Bathing, dressing, sitting down and getting up again, even lying in bed, will all be different. His whole way life will be changed. All sorts of pleasures and activities that he once took for granted will have to be simply written off. Duties too. At present I am learning to get about on crutches. Perhaps I shall presently be given a wooden leg. But I shall never be a biped again.

C.S. Lewis

Life will truly never be the same. Like the amputee there will never be day that I wake up and forget that my leg is no longer there. Those memories will always serve as reminders that she is no longer with us.

I try to find positivity in everyday and every situation that I am blessed with but that’s easier said then done. I would love to greet every morning with a smile, I would like to end everyday with a prayer of thanks, but I will always have that stump to remind me. (I understand that the wound is still fresh and I’m still angry.) The pain is all too familiar. But I hope, I pray that I can learn to appreciate life as a one-legged man; that I can be truly thankful for the beauty that still surrounds me, the loved ones that still call and ask ‘how I’m doing,’ a wife that still laughs at my jokes and appreciates my immaturity.

Be kind to those who are hurting. Be patient with the people you love. Look to God when times get hard. Each day is a little better than the last. Some days bless me with laughter, some with tears. But each day is a blessing. Thank you everyone for your love and support.

Facebook Notes

2009-01-31T13:28:00.000-08:00

These are the notes that I posted on facebook:

Notes?

Thursday, August 28, 2008 at 6:22pm

Notes? This is laughable, almost pathetic but I need to say something.... I hope it to be somewhat therapeutic, hope.

I know this note is scattered but so am I right now. I keep rethinking my whole life everytime I slow down. When I close my eyes I see her face. I question everything. Did I say enough, what if, why... But questions get me nowhere.

I cry. I cry a lot. I'm not a crier, yet I can't stop. I've always prided myself in being someone strong, but in one phone call I was brought to my knees. I couldn't breath, I walked around dry heaving, my legs weak, my heart felt like it had ripped out. I had no idea what to do. The next week was a blur. Every picture I see when, any memory, I can't turn on the radio or watch TV without something reminded me of her.

I don't know if irony is the right word but the last 3 years of my life have been spent preparing myself to be a Christian counselor; my senior seminar project was on how human suffering cannot disprove the existence of God. Yet I can't concentrate long enough to think of how any of this can be of any use.

I do know that I couldn't have asked for a better sister and comfortable in that I have always strove to be the best big brother that I could always be and know that she appreciated it. I knew my little sister well. I wish I had known her better. Amber taught me so much throughout life. She took care of me more than I have deserved.

I know how awkward it can be walking up and not knowing what to say, but I wanted to thank all of you mustered the courage to do it. There are so many faces that I haven't seen since high school that showed up to pay respect and it means so much. I've never seen or met someone who has touched as many of lives as my sister did and she did it all in 23 years...

Thank you all for everything.....

Too Short

Saturday, August 30, 2008 at 6:33pm

You can't help yourself to think of all the what ifs. The 'what might have beens' slap you in the face every waking moment. The inability to control the world around mocks just how weak we truly are. The Thanksgiving plans you were trying to make, the Christmas vacations, the thoughts of our children running around the living room together make you realize how precious time is. We pretend like we have all the time in the world. Like we do control our destiny, HA.

If I was given a second chance how would I do everything differently? The questions will have to remain unanswered for now, as much I can't stand it. But if there is anything I hope everyone can take for this; "Carpe diem! Seize the day, boys! Make your lives extraordinary!" (That's a quote from the Dead Poet's Society). Start living. We can only hope to make it to 90, there are no guarantees.

Life is too short to be walking around mad at the world, too short to hold grudges, too short not to tell someone you love them... Life is just too short. It wasn't long ago me and Amber sat there talking about how crazy it was that we were growing old. All our friends were getting married, starting families, and getting real jobs. I guess what I'm getting at in cliche note #2 is that life is too short and maybe it's time that we start acting it.

Smile. Tell those close to you that you love them. Hug someone you love when you see them it don't if it will be the last time.

I guess I just miss my friend

Wednesday, September 10, 2008 at 2:34am

"I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up DOES rejoice. Still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend." ~ Red

Again I can't sleep. I feel like the narrator in Fight Club,"For six months I couldn't sleep. With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything is far away. Everything is a copy … of a copy … of a copy." I keep telling myself that this will all get easier, but it doesn't. I watch movies, read books, stare into the darkness, but every morning I wake up thinking I need to call her.

I have nightmares every night replaying old moments in my tormenting myself on whether or not I did enough. I want the nightmares to go away, I want to stop thinking about her but these memories are all I have anymore. So I'm scared to lose them. I hold on, the pain is almost self -nflicted.

I'm not sure what to do anymore. I try to put on a happy face and walk through my life like a normal person, I'm still not sure if people can tell when they look at me whether or not I'm ready to cry at any given moment. I read a grief counseling book that has helped some, it's encouraged me to talk about everything which doesn't seem to help but I reluctantly oblige. I figured I would try to get back into writing my cliché notes, this being number 3.

Before I end this note I have to mention the quote from the beginning, for all those movie buffs out there it is from the Shawshank Redemption. I heard it and couldn't help but to think of Amber (I'm still not too particularly comfortable using her name?). But I guess that’s all there is to it; "I guess I just miss my friend." I miss having that person to call when you can't tell something else. I need that little sister to go shopping with me because I'm not capable of picking out a skirt for my wife. I need her to come visit me and bring that crazy dog with her. She was that person. She was the person I could call whenever, that laughed at my stupid jokes, that would tell me that they weren't funny afterwards, that would make Thanksgiving bearable by feeding the over salted food to the dogs. I miss my friend.

Lesson 2. Griefbursts

2009-01-30T20:11:00.000-08:00

"Grief comes in unexpected surges... mysterious cues that set off a remainder of grief. It comes crashing like a wave, sweeping me in its crest, twisting me inside out... the recedes."

Tony Talbot

Griefbursts - "Sometimes heightened periods of sadness overwhelm us when we're in grief - even years after the death. These times can seem to come out of nowhere and can be frightening and painful. Something as simple as a sound, smell or phrase can bring on what I call "griefbursts"

The world around you probably will never know see the difference, they will never see through that iron facade you have put up. They might recognize that you mood seems to be dampened but he/she has been getting better as of late. They know nothing of the hurt in your eyes, the struggle it is to get out of bed each morning. That protective wall that keeps them at an arms length. But for those closest to us, they have seen the difference, the know the difference, for they have felt the difference with us. Griefbursts are the Achilles Heel for those who are in the process of mourning. When you think you have everyone fooled into you being 'alright' better yet when you have yourself fooled, that's when they hit. You are driving along in your car and that song comes on, you hear the phone and you think it's them, you drive past the restaurant where both of you ate. Greifbursts remind you that you aren't fooling anyone.

Wolfelt describes one father saying, "I was just sailing along feeling pretty good, when out of nowhere came this overwhelming feeling of grief!" Instead of long periods of depression the grieving period for most people consists with people trying maintain a life of normalcy when they encounter random "spasms" of grief. "During a griefburst, you may feel an overwhelming sense of missing the person you loved and find yourself openly crying, or perhaps even sobbing. As one women told me, "I'll be busy for a awhile, and sometimes ever forget he has died. Then I'll see his picture or smell his favorite food, and I'll just feel like I can't even move.""

Its hard to imagine there is light at the end of the tunnel when grief comes upon like this, you feel like you can't go on. You feel bad for trying to continue on with your life but it's important to try not to deny these griefbursts. We can't pretend like they aren't there, or that was the last one. We have to accept griefbursts as past of the healing process. As Wolfelt puts it, "Griefbursts may feel like "crazybursts," but they are normal." Be compassionate with yourself, love yourself, and never stop loving those who have passed from this earth. Go somewhere quiet, cry, scream, sob, talk it out, do whatever necessary. But trying to ignore something so powerful won't help anyone. It's always important that we never give up on ourselves and those around us.

Lesson 1. You Aren't Crazy

2009-01-24T20:19:00.001-08:00

"Do not try to determine where you "should" be.

Just allow yourself to be naturally where you are in the process."

-Wolfelt

There was a Matchbox20 song (I know that most of you all out there are huge fans) that came out a couple of years back that's chorus went, "I'm not crazy I'm just a little unwell." I have repeated that line in my head so many times in the past several months that one might actually call Matchbox fan... I am continually reminding myself that everything is alright and that I'm not crazy. Honestly its the only way I get through the day most of the time.

I feel so unwell. I can't sleep, then when I finally fall asleep I can't up. My mind wonders, conversations are hard to follow. The emotions that I used to have complete control over rule over me; I find it hard to laugh, cry to much, lack feelings. I have feelings of complete helpless followed but surging anger. My mood is consistent with that of a premenstrual women, look at me the wrong way and prepare for the unexpected. I withdraw, retreat, give up, send up the white flag. I want to alone and then get lonely when I get there. I often times wonder how much people can tell how crazy I feel. If they can see through the masks I put on in the morning.

"You're not crazy, you're grieving. Never forget that your journey through the wilderness of your grief may bring you through all kinds of strange and unfamiliar terrain.... Your experiences may seem so alien that you feel more like you're on the moon! When it seems like you're going crazy, remind yourself to look for the trail marker that assures you you're not going crazy. You're grieving. The two can feel remarkably similar sometimes."

These are a series of lessons derived from "Understanding Your Grief" by Alan Wolfelt. I highly recommend this book to anyone how has experienced a loss or as a gift to someone you know who is grieving.

Storms of Life

2009-01-22T20:41:00.000-08:00

This is the sermon that I preached the Sunday after the accident:

The Storms of Life

Matthew 14.22-33

Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but the boat by this time was a long way from the land, beaten by the waves, for the wind was against them. And in the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, and said, “It is a ghost!” and they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, “Take heart; it is I Do not be afraid.”

And Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, “Lord, save me.” Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him, saying to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” And when they got into the boat, the wind ceased. And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”

Peter was a fisherman, there is no doubt that in his years he had faced storms before but in Matthew 14 he wasn’t ready. As Peter walked out onto the water and looked at the storm raging around him, he sunk. He took his eyes off Jesus for seconds and before he knew he was underwater.

A little over two weeks ago I experienced a storm, much like Peter and the others the boat. My life was tossed to and fro. I laid in the boat helpless. I felt that I had walked out on water like Peter and sunk like a rock. I wondering when I would see the light of day again. I wondered when Jesus would come to my rescue like He did with Peter. I wondered when he would take my pain away.

I wish I could tell you it was easier for me because I was a minister because I was close to God. I wish I could tell that I was stronger and that all of the counseling classes that I have taken over the years helped. But I can’t. Because storms come.

At some point we all ask these questions... "Can I trust God even when my life gets stormy? Can I trust Him even when things go unexpectedly wrong? Can I trust Him even when my situation is so discouraging that I see no way out? Will I trust Him even when things seem hopeless?"

This morning let us look at the storms of life...

Storms are inevitable.

No on can escape such storms. Neither our goodness nor our faith can insulate us from the common experiences of life. Tragic events come into our lives regardless of who we are. And they sometimes strike so suddenly. Arthur John Gossip, a renowned Scottish minister of another generation, preached his famous sermon, "When Life Tumbles in, What Then?" the Sunday after the sudden death of his wife. That is always the question, "What Then?" How do we survive the crisis?

I wish I could tell you as a Christian that you’ll never have to experience heartache and pain in this life. I wish I could tell you that if you obey the gospel or respond to the invitation today that never again will you lose someone you love, but I can’t.

Storms will come to everyone just the same. The storm doesn’t see us and say “oh there’s a Christian let me pass over him/her”. They don’t see a church and say “let me skip over you all and go on to someone else who isn’t here”. It is true that as we go through life there will be storms: hard times, tragedies, difficulties, trials, troubles, and loss. We will find ourselves in places and circumstances we never anticipated. We will experience pain and heartache we never believed would come our way.

We all have moments where we feel just as battered and beaten and discouraged as the people on that ship in Matthew 14. Perhaps there’s a storm brewing over your life right now. Maybe it’s a stormy marriage. Maybe you’re married to someone who argues and fights with you all the time. Or maybe YOU’RE the one who does the arguing and the fighting. Some days, you feel like nothing will ever change! That your marriage is shipwrecked! That there’s no hope at all. Or maybe there’s another type of storm brewing in your house. Maybe it’s a stormy relationship with a child. Who rebels against your authority. Who says, "It’s my life! You can’t tell me what to do anymore! I’ll do what I want!" And after many days and nights of dealing with this, you’re not sure if there anything more you can say. You feel like throwing your hands up in frustration. You feel like giving up.

Or maybe you feel battered and storm tossed, and you have no idea why you feel that way. You can’t put a finger on it. All you know is that you feel despair and discouragement and hopelessness. And things seem so bleak that there’s no way out.

But as most of you here this morning know storms will come.

Storms catch you off guard.

The storm in Matthew 14 came to those on the boat quickly. Mark tells us that the storm came up suddenly. On the Sea of Galilee, cold air would come down from the hills that surround this huge body of water. The hot air rising would collide and immediately a storm would develop. Our storms can develop just as quickly, and could be a financial storm, a business storm, a relationship storm, a storm of illness. News of a sudden death can come in one phone call. Suddenly, your whole life is turned upside down.

Notice that this verse tells us something else. It tells us that just because Jesus is in the ship, doesn’t mean a STORM won’t come. Many Christians wrongly think storms are only for unbelievers. That’s not true. You can be in the very center of the will of God, and be going through a cyclone, or a hurricane of all kind of troubles. Disobedience can bring on a storm. Just look at Jonah. But so often storms are a way for God to make us stronger.

We as Christians so often come to a point of content, that we think we are somewhat invincible to this world and this when the storm does the most damage. Hurricane Katrina happened just a little over three years ago and that area will never be the same. Hurricane Gustav was different this time they told people to leave the area and there was no one to be found. That’s because Katrina had caught them off guard.

Just because you know so body is sick or you have mentally prepared yourself for something often times doesn’t make it any easier, storms can still catch you off guard.

Storms test our faith.

Peter sank when his faith was tested. We have to be kidding ourselves if say we leave the storms of life unscathed. We can’t expect to stand there and face the storm and walk out like nothing ever happened to us... we are going to get knocked down by these storms in our lives, but we must get back up. That’s the important part- that we get back up when our faith is tested. We must rise above these troubles of our earthly lives and realize that life goes on.

Two weeks ago someone told me that after tragedy occurs, all one can do is find a new norm. My life will never be the same, yet I know that my family and I, with the help of God, will return to a new normal. We all have experienced these storms, whether it be the loss of a loved one or a financial crisis, and we all have come through them. We are not promised a perfect, pain free existence on this earth. Even though there are times we think that nothing worse could be happening to us than the storm we are going through.

Our faith will be tested. You will walk onto the water to see Jesus and sink like a stone. But it’s ok. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad Christian. It just means your human.

Storms make you stronger.

As Peter crawled back into the boat and worshipped Jesus, I think its safe to say that his faith was somewhat stronger than before he walked onto the water with weak knees. If there is one thing that I have learned the older I have gotten is that is I’m weak. Every time I start to believe myself to be strong I have been brought to my knees. But, going through storms in my life are what have given me the strength to continue. Each experience that God has granted me has brought me closer to Him and made me a stronger Christian through the pain.

2 Cor. 12.9-10 - But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Human weakness provides the perfect opportunity for God to display his divine power.

Storms are beyond our comprehension.

We so often try to make since of storms following tragic events. Its almost comforting to hear David in Psalm 13...

How Long, O Lord?

Psalm 13:1-2 How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

David says this in Psalm 13, a man after God’s own heart...

Isaiah 55:8-9 - 8 For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. 9 For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Deuteronomy 29.29 - “The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law.

There will be plenty of times in our life when we ask God why, that we look at Him with questioning eyes. Many times we like David ask “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” But we have to realize that His ways are far higher than our ever could be, and though we may not understand why at the moment, God is all knowing and has a plan for us all.

Storms pass.

So many times in this life we feel like Peter, underwater asking ourselves why we got out of the boat. We feel that life will never be the same, or that we cant go on after what has happened to us.

Lifehouse - "Storm"

"How long have I been in this storm so overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form water's getting harder to tread with these waves crashing over my head..."

Storms never last forever. There are times when the skies are dark and gloomy but two days later the sun is a shining and the birds are a chirping. Whatever we are going through, it is not going to last. We are going to get through it. It most often takes time to get through a storm, but eventually we all come through storms. We may be a little battered and bruised, but we come out stronger than before due to the experience.

Some of you may be wondering how we can survive the pressures of everyday life? How can we survive in a stormy marriage? How can we survive criticism? How can we survive the bad news we will get this year? If YOU ARE hoping to go through life without pressure, without criticism, without temptations, without bad news, without tragedy, then you are living on FANTASY ISLAND.

God’s there for you.

o (even if it feels sometimes like He isn’t)

o Job (I couldn’t go through my sermon without mentioning good ol’ Job)

o It seems to me that Job got the worst end of every deal possible, but in Job 13.15 he says, “Though he slay me, I will hope in him; yet I will argue my ways to his face.”

o No matter what (even if you are arguing to his face) we need to hope in God

o Isaiah 41.10 fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

o God has prepared for us a place to live for all eternity, where there will be no sadness, no struggles, no storms. When we think about how glorious life will be in Heaven it makes this world and its struggles easier to bear.

o 2 cor. 4.17-18 For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

o As Peter sank under the water that day I bet Jesus couldn’t have felt any further away. But if we look to vs 31 we see where Jesus was. Outstreched hand reaching deep into the waters to pull Peter out.

o As the storm clears and you lay there in the boat dripping wet. You need to know that God is there for you... Your hard times and troubles aren’t things that you have to go through alone. He is there.

o What is the first thing that Peter did when he got back into the boat? He worshipped God. I know that it won’t always be easy but the storms will pass and you’ll realize that Jesus was there all along.

Stained Carpet and Faded Sofas

2009-01-19T14:45:00.000-08:00

December 5, 1985 she was born. Do I remember it? Not at all but I wish I did. My sister was born, Amber Marie Vego. The pride and joy of my parents, the best little sister a brother could ever ask for, she entered the world at full speed and choose never to slow down. It was long before my Father started calling her the "Go-Girl" because she was always on the go, she was the life of the party, she was the party... I try a little harder every day to remember those twenty two incredible years that God did bless me with.

As children we became inseparable. I will never know why she always looked up to me the way she did but I'll appreciate the love she had for me. But the years went by too fast and we grew too far apart. There is nothing that can change how i handled my life up to this point, nothing. But one thing I hope to change is how I handle the rest of my life. As I sit here writing this and can't help but to recall a quote from Brennan Manning's The Ragamuffin Gospel, "I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded. I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains. I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime. When my child kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, 'Later. Now get washed up for dinner.' There would have been more I love yous, more I'm sorrys, but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute, look at it andreally see it, live it, and never give it back." I think for the majority of the world by the time you have had a thought as incredible as this it's probably do late for you to do anything about it.

I will never forget that phone call. The one no one should ever have to experience, the one the makes you sick to your stomach, the one that makes your heart drop, the one that changes your life forever. Someone told me at the visitation that your life will never be the same again, from this point forward you have to find a "new normal." To this day that's all try to accomplish with my days, I search for a new norm life Christopher Columbus searched for The New World it occupies every waking hour. My life hasn't been the same since. My days have been have been just a little bit darker. Smiles and laughter have fewer and farther between. But life hasn't ended for me just yet, so I must go on. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how hard it is to get out of the bed in the morning, no matter how many tears I cry I must go on.

And that's why I have started writing. I would be lying if I said I have truly acknowledged the loss yet, if I didn't sit next to phone at night waiting for her to call, if I didn't wake up in the morning hoping to see her storm into my room saying, "Good morning my little rosebud, it's time to blossom (at the same time Gadge jumping onto the bed licking your head) !" And then we would be off for another adventure (Oh how much I miss those, those countless hours at thrift stores, those hours spent with her, I wouldn't trade them for the world). I don't want closure but I'm hoping for some sort of acceptance, so I want to begin journaling my thoughts and feelings to help myself and possibly someone who gets a phone call like I mentioned earlier.