Seasons Change People Change

Our friends are like different parts on a wheelchair I am sitting in… I am on the wheelchair because I felt handicapped since Ryan's death. The wheelchair helps to keep me moving since my handicap.... But the wheelchair's parts are falling off... I am not used to losing those wheelchair parts.

Eventually, this handicapped person needs to tell herself, do not count on anyone but yourself to learn to walk again. Seasons change, people change. Ultimately, it is what is internal to keep one strong. It really has to come from within, not to rely on other sources....

You go through the darkest time with someone but eventually, they feel their ministry is complete and their life moves on. They are no longer on the same page as you. It is yet another deep sense of loss. I just have to remind myself that this is how life is. Season change, people change. Just accept that.

Reflections

I have not felt the need to write in a long time. But a friend told me about her co-worker 13 months old daughter just passed away in her sleep. Her co-workers were searching for resources. I helped what I could. They are so appreciative and I feel there is still so little that anyone can do for this mother who lost her only daughter. I saw a photo of the toddler….how could she die? She looked so healthy, chubby in the photo. How is this mom going to cope the loss of her only child?
I went on our family website and started reading the eulogy that I wrote for Ryan…. My eulogy included many of the experiences I would miss to do with him…As I read the eulogy, I just realized how much I have forgotten…. I forgot that he liked me to cut his French toast into papa, mama and baby sizes. I forgot he liked ketchup with his mac’ n cheese. How could I forget so much? Was this normal for 4 years of grief? Did John forget many of the details too? I tried to give myself excuse that this is normal. Perhaps I am so in the moment of the presence, of Matthew, of my life?

The Kindergarten Community

Matthew started kindergarten last week. Matthew and I are both anxious to meet others and build relationships and start our new community.

Today, I volunteered to help set up a back to school gathering for the teachers. I went to a mom's house as the party is held there. The PTA president introduced me and told the woman who was hosting the event that I am Ryan's Mom. She took me into her boys' room and told me how Ryan's Ride is a big part of their summer. I think she has a fourth grader and 2nd grader. She showed me the medals, race numbers hung on the bulletin boards in the boys' room right above their beds.

Her older boy wrote essay about his summer and talked about Ryan's Ride when he started his school. He learned more about the ride by checking our website...I was so touched by her gesture. It is heartwarming to see her boys' room...

In a weird way, even Ryan is not here, he is part of the community....

The eve before kindergarten

It is 4:30am in the morning, a few hours before Matthew’s first day of kindergarten. He woke me up. Normally, he would crawl into our bed and slept until the morning, but not this week. I decided to be strict. I have been wondering why first day of kindergarten is emotionally for so many. I told Matthew that it is going to be a big day and he needs his energy for his first day of kindergarten. Matthew nodded and told me that he loves me and to give him lots of kisses and hugs before I left.

I am awake now and it feels like the night before my wedding day. It is not a normal day… there is so much anticipation. I welled up in tears in bed and realized that Kindergarten is about “letting go”. Tonight, I feel as a mom, I am the shore and Matthew is a ship. My ship which has anchor to be ashore so much during these past 5.5 yrs will sail away. I know he will be making longer trips (away from the shore) as time goes. To be a good mother, I have to learn to let go.

Kindergarten is about receiving a set of official responsibilities. Matthew’s responsibilities are to learn to be in school on time, to learn and to get along with other children. He learns to take care of himself in my physical absence. Perhaps it is this newfound responsibility that makes kindergarten such a milestone.

Will I feel bittersweet because Ryan is not going to kindergarten? I feel Ryan has sailed away from us. Tonight, I am anticipating Matthew to sail away too. However, I know Matthew will come back ashore from time to time throughout his life. Perhaps in the midst of celebrating a milestone, each parent learns to grieve for the “loss”. In our case, that loss magnifies as a result of our ultimate loss of Ryan. This is another reminder of how I am living in the moment with my life. I look at John sleeping peacefully next to me and know that only John will be the “boy” who will be next to me in my lifetime. Our children grow up…..the essence of life, assuming we all live a long life.

I think I am ready for tomorrow….finally….

Feeling Vulnerable

I feel like I am more unsure of the world right now. I want to have some control of the destiny of our lives but no matter how hard I try, I seem to fail. I want to make choices but on numerous occasions the choices are made for me. I asked John, “Why do I need to keep challenging myself that way? Should I know my limits?”

John said, “If you never challenge yourself, you will never know what you can achieve. You always want to push your limits but potentially when you push, you are bound to see potential disappointment. Or in other words, if you never try you will never know what it could be, but there is always a risk of failure when you try." With each failure, the feel of let-down magnifies and the root is Ryan’s death.

Life of a Bereaved

Life…everyone has a different level of difficulty in how they venture their life journey. One person may get pregnant by accident in her late 40’s while another is trying her many rounds of IVF cycles hoping to have her own first child. Some people try so hard to accomplish what they want in life and fail while others don’t try as hard and they are presented with the same opportunities without even appreciating it. Someone’s life is so blissful while others are presented by challenges one after another.

Those who are bereaved….when they are faced with another loss in their lives while heading back to be a “normal” citizen, the loss magnifies and intensifies and the most inner vulnerability becomes so exposed. The wound re-opens and becomes deep. Others do not understand the intensity of that loss other than those bereaved. It takes so much energy to be part of the normal society yet the true real normalcy would be behind the close doors of a support group for those who are bereaved. It is a hard concept to grasp unless someone walks through that path. After all, if you have never been taught this foreign language, how can you communicate in that language?

The Grief Burst

I have not felt the need to write for a while but today I want to capture a moment of this journey. We were in the support group and as the new year arrived, John and I decided that it is the right moment to close out of this support group so we can allow others on the wait list to join.

As the meeting started and as I shared Ryan’s story and our lives with an incoming new parent, my feelings exploded. I couldn’t control my extreme sadness as I described my journey through the loss of Ryan. It was like a volcano erupting. John after two and half years felt he had allowed his grief to reach the deepest pit that now he could come out of the pit and perform like a normal citizen. He was like a walking dead for two years and now out of that pit.

As for me, he said I had been grieving by keeping myself busy with projects, I did not reach that pit as deep as he did or was I ever in the pit? When I was least expecting it, that “burst” surfaced out from that pit uncontrollably. I didn’t know I had it in me. It is just a reminder that I need to stay with the group to process those emotions that I have managed to cover with layers of blankets.

As I was telling the story, I realized I started losing memories of the details. I would be the first to admit that I am someone who is born with a weak memory bank.

But I told John that I still have vivid memories of my touch with Ryan….the many nights when he was ill and he couldn’t sleep. I would let him lay his head on my shoulder. I would pace around the room and humming this one lullaby that I don’t even know the name of. I would feel his hair sticking up because he was too warm. I would feel his little chubby hands which fingers would be so straightened as he stretched himself. I would feel those chubby flat little feet. I remember the size of his little body. I remember how proud I felt to be his mother….a little boy who had enormous confidence and layback attitude. I remember how calm and peaceful I was whenever I was alone with him during the nights. I remember telling myself how handsome of a man he would grow up to be despite having a less attractive baby face than Matthew. I was ready to tell the world…here is my handsome and confident son. I knew he would grow up to have that internal confidence that other teens may lack. I just believed Ryan was born with that confidence. No matter how forgetful I can be, perhaps a mother will never forget her son….

Feeling Vulnerable

There is always the fear that people are less anxious about remembering and supporting. I drove myself crazy today because I sent out the email last week for the Angel Ryan Project and didn't hear much response.... until today people were responding about supporting.

There is always that fear that people are so busy with their lives and can no longer take the time to honorRyan. It is just so emotional. I cried a lot today but feel better now. Kind of silly but because it is so personal. Sometimes, I wonder if it is easy just to hide and hibernate. When I reach out, I have to risk for potential disappointment but I guess at the end, this method is more helpful in my healing and honoring Ryan.

Reality is memories fade...Ryan just becomes old news...I really just need to learn to deal with that. He is my little boy. I really feel I need to hibernate for a while.

Change is difficult

Change is difficult. We finally said our final goodbyes to our neighbors Emily and her parents last night. As we hugged, I just burst into tears. I will miss them so much. They chose to be involved in our lives during this past two years. I will miss the habit of coming home and seeing Emily across the street asking her to come over to play. It has been a constant ritual. Matthew has company and our house was filled with happy kids’ play. Emily has been the convenient void for our family and I have developed so a special bond with this little girl. I will miss watching her grow up with Matthew. The next time I would see her she will be half year older.

I don’t think anyone can relate or understand that loss that we feel. It is just not losing a neighbor who is moving away. For us, it is a loss of a special relationship and friendship that we feel so close to. These people could have chosen not to be involved in our lives but they did. We feel so safe with them and they feel the same in our emotional space. Friendships like that come rarely and we are so afraid to lose that because we value that gifted friendship.

I was reading to Matthew last night and he kept pushing the "Matthew bear" and Emily's voice comes up saying “I love you, Matthew.” I just burst into more tears.

Matthew asked, "you miss Emily?"
I said, "Yes, I will miss Emily, Auntie Lesley, and Uncle Sid."
He put the bear closeby my face and pushed the button and said, "I will make you better" and Emily's voice came up.
Matthew said, "Well, we are going to have new neighbors. They have a 8 and a 3 yr old."
I said, "Well, we don't know them and we don't know if they are nice."
Matthew, "Everybody is nice. Well, some people are nice. Some are not so nice."
I said, "Emily, Auntie Lesley and Uncle Sid care a lot about us. They are our friends. The new neighbors are not our friends."
Matthew fell asleep.

John and I looked at Emily "old" house and tonight that house is not the same...empty feeling. Tonight, our house is quiet. Hopefully, we will adjust and we just have to.

I will surely miss seeing Sid and Emily around 6pm and asking Emily to come over. I just never thought I would befriend so personally with my neighbor. I love my privacy and never want to know my neighbor!