Living Legacy

     As my journey through this life without my daughter continues I am sometimes caught off guard by a totally unexpected emotional response to a typically unassuming event. I become weepy and nostalgic when something happens to remind me of yet another facet of my broken heart that I had not even considered. And I know this will continue to happen...forever.
     I attended a retirement party for a friend and colleague last Friday afternoon. It was an awesome occasion with tasty food, great friends and many laughs. I was having a wonderful time listening to all of the speakers singing the praises of my most deserving friend as she was celebrating retirement after serving in education for 35+ years.
     Then it was time for her family, more specifically her children to speak. And it hit me like a Mack truck...I will not have my Lauren with me when I retire. She won't be there to speak for me, or tease me, or cry with me. I sat in my chair trying to hold back my tears. Luckily many others were getting choked up too as my friend's daughter's speech was a tear jerker and therefore my tears blended in.
     I know I must sound terribly selfish. Here I am at someone else's celebration and all I can focus on is my loss and how it will continue to impact my life. I hate that this happens but it is all just so final, my daughter being gone. So absolute and so complete.
     Then a former principal, with whom my friend once worked, stood and spoke about what a wonderful teacher my friend's daughter is also. She then informed my friend that she should be proud because her legacy lives on in her daughter. I honestly do not know what kept me from sliding right under the table at that point. I want to watch my daughter teach kindergarten. I want a living legacy.
     There I go being selfish again but really...it is truly disheartening to think about the future sometimes. Most days I move along without "incident". But then all of a sudden...WHAM, something hits me. I did suck it up, put on a bright smile, and enjoyed the rest of the evening in honor of my friend. I just wish this grief stuff came with instructions. I only have one...PRAY. And I do, often.

 

 

One Year, and One Day Ago

     Today is the one year anniversary of the day my precious daughter was taken from me tragically. One year and one day ago life was so wonderful. My new marriage was thriving, Lauren and my stepdaughter McKenzie were starting to really bond, I had just returned to a position with the school system that I love, and the rest of my family was healthy and happy as well. One year and one day ago I had no idea what was in store for me.
     Then that last day passed, the last day my Lauren was here. It was a really terrific day and for that I am thankful. Lauren played softball, the game she loved and worked so hard to become a part of once again. Kevin and I enjoyed sitting in the stands with my dad on a beautiful evening to watch Lauren and her teammates on the field. Lauren's other stepsister gave birth to a healthy baby girl that night too. What a special day...I only wish I knew it was the last.
     I often wonder if I would have done anything differently had I known what was about to happen. I don't think I would have, with one exception. I would have held Lauren in my arms and not let her go. I don't mean figuratively, I mean literally not let her go.
     Hold her and not let her say goodbye. Hold her and not let her walk away. Hold her and not let her get on the bus. Hold her and just...never...let...go!
     But that isn't realistic is it? We have to let our children go. We have to set them free. That's what growing up is all about. And it is wonderful to watch, your child maturing and making wise choices. Sitting back and thinking "Well all be darned, she WAS listening."
     One year ago, well, all the days before, I was really enjoying the opportunities that came up to enjoy the fruits of my labor. With every responsible decision Lauren made I was provided a brief glimpse into her future. A future destined to be awesome.
    But one year ago was a different day...it was the first day without her. The first day of a new life. The first day of what would become my new existence. My new identity. A mother without her child. A woman with a hole in her heart. A wife in mourning. A friend in need.
     This year has been a journey for sure. I have traveled through my deepest grief, my darkest sorrow, and have lived every parent's biggest fear. And on the other side of the abyss I have emerged stronger in my faith, more conscious of the impact of my actions and intensely focused on what really matters in life. Although my joy is somewhat tainted and my laughter not as bright as it used to be, I keep moving forward. And I thank God everyday. Everyday brings me one day closer to eternity with my Lauren, praise the Lord!

Driving Down Memory Lane

     I decided to spend one of my days off during spring break visiting some of the places I spent the most time with Lauren as she grew up. Although it was tough, it was also very therapeutic at the same time. I have so many wonderful memories from her childhood. As I have said before, how lucky was I to get to be her mom? Totally lucky!
     The first place I went by was the house in Lakeland Ray and I moved into a few weeks after we were married in February of 1996. Lauren was not even 2 years old yet. We had a great deal of fun in that house. I remember feeling so grown up but looking back, I was just a kid myself.
     One of the funniest memories from our first house in Lakeland was when we were potty training Lauren at the same time we were housebreaking a Jack Russell puppy. Somehow the wires of communication got crossed at one point because I caught Lauren pooping in the flower bed just outside our front door. I wasn't sure if I was more mortified that my kid took a crap in the front yard or terrified that she got out the front door without me hearing her. Wow...good times.
   Another time, when my mom was over visiting, Lauren made an escape out the front door again. Hmmmm....maybe I wasn't a great mother after all. Nonetheless, the next thing we know she comes in crying with a huge handprint on her bare bottom. She was sniffling and snotting and I was trying to make out what she was saying. All my mom and I could understand was "Daddy pank me". Ray came in and asked if I was aware that our daughter was out riding her tricycle in the cul-de-sac with only a shirt on? He had come home from work to discover this lovely activity going on. Again, life was never dull with Lauren.
     My next stop for the day was the daycare where Lauren attended and I worked to help with the expense as I was finishing my bachelor's degree. I would drop Lauren off in the morning and go to my classes then return in the afternoon to work as the p.m. supervisor. A great, yet another scary, memory from her daycare was the time Lauren was hit by a car. Calm down, let me explain. We were leaving at the end of the day and Lauren stopped halfway through the parking lot. She was trying to get the wrapper off of a piece of candy her teacher had given her. I didn't notice she had stopped and neither did my coworker who was slowly, thank God, backing her car out of its parking space. Her rear bumper smacked Lauren on the back of the head and knocked her to the ground. Luckily my coworker had her window down and heard the commotion and stopped. I raced over to make sure Lauren was alright. Fear gripped my throat as I saw her face down. She stood up, pointed at the candy on the ground, and started crying..."My candy. I dropped my candy." Good grief!!!
     I then went to the practice field where Lauren spent two seasons cheering for the Lakeland Gators. I remembered the time her squad was treated to a little bit of practice time with the high school aged girls. I sat and watched as the girls lined up to get a turn doing stunts with the older girls. I noticed that a little girl on Lauren's squad kept butting in front of the other girls to get more turns. I got angrier and angrier. Here's the thing, this little twit was already a "top" or "flyer" on her own squad. My "sturdy" Lauren was of course a base. She never had the opportunity to see what it was like to be the top. So, once I reached my limit and couldn't take it anymore, I showed my tail. I marched over to the group of high school girls and informed them, not so kindly, that if they lifted the little girl who was butting in front of everyone else ONE MORE time, there was going to be a problem. I might have let my girl get out the front door from time to time but DO NOT mess with her!!! As we rode home that evening after practice, Lauren informed me that she really didn't like being up top. Too scary. Well...I was still glad I made it happen for her so she had the opportunity to form her opinion on the whole thing. Totally worth it.
     My next stop was our second house in Lakeland, on Lake Bonny. The new owners have painted it a strange color somewhere between pink and peach and built a detached garage in the front yard, but the memories are still there. Lauren and I commuted to school all the way back in Brandon each day from that house. I often regretted that Lauren didn't attend school with the other kids in the neighborhood but she never complained. We spent time boating on the lake, riding our bikes to Taco Bell and around Lake Mirror in downtown Lakeland. We owned a pet prairie dog in this house, Princess. Lauren learned to ride a real bike here too, no training wheels. We laughed here, and cried here. All memories I will always have.
     The last stop for the day was a park on Lake Ariana in Auburndale. One summer Ray, the kids and I went out early every Saturday morning to secure a pavilion before they all filled up. Four other couples from our church, along with their kiddos, would come out from Brandon to meet us. We would spend the day boating, tubing, jet skiing, and cooking out. That was truly a wonderful summer. All of the kids were within 2-3 years of the same age and got along really well. The grown ups were not as fortunate about getting along in the long run. The final couple out of the five divorced last year. Sad really.
     Today I cried...a lot. But I also smiled and even laughed out loud, alone in my car a few times. Raising my sweet little Lauren was such a pleasure. Of course there were challenges but I wouldn't trade a single minute, not one!

First house in South Lakeland
 

Formerly

Love n Learn Child Care Center



Club House at practice field for Lakeland Gators
 

Second house in Lakeland on Lake Bonny
  

Pavilion at Lake Ariana Park

Was I not Listening?

     As I have felt called to share my testimony regarding surviving the loss of my daughter, I am also riddled with other feelings. A persistent question that plagues me is why did this have to be my story? Why did it take losing my daughter to compel me to witness to others about Jesus? Was God asking me to use my talents for His glory before but I wasn't listening?
     I openly admit that I am a "control freak". I am an over achiever, doer, closer, and overall get it done girl. I can say with total sincerity that when something as out of control as suddenly and tragically losing your only child occurs in the life of a control freak, it is catastrophic. Not that I am minimizing an event like this happening in anyone else's life, but I am attempting to express that my natural tendency in life is to fix things. Control, correct, fix, make things happen. And I could do absolutely nothing to bring my daughter back...nothing. She is gone, end of story.
     So, as God continues to work in my life and I pray to create great things from my grief, I sometimes become angry. Yes, angry at God and mostly angry at myself. I think "God, why couldn't you have ME get in an accident as a wake up call? Was I so stubborn that you had to take my daughter to make me realize you are in control? Really?"
     I miss Lauren so much, everyday. Do I continue to function in life? Of course. That's what type A's do...keep on moving forward. I pray that my story will help others in some way. I do selfishly wish my story was different, that it included my daughter still being here with me.
     But, God has a bigger plan that I feel He is only beginning to reveal to me. I ask that others pray for me that I will continue to seek His guidance and understand His intention for my life. I really am listening now.

Sharing my message

     Ever since losing my precious daughter, God has been increasingly present in my life. His faithfulness has been unwavering through this most difficult time of grief and sorrow. He has comforted me, reassured me, calmed me, inspired me and loved me. Now of course He had done all of these things prior to Lauren's accident, but I think perhaps I took it for granted, as many of us do.
     For the last couple of months, God has begun to do something else in my life. He has started to compel me to share my story. He has been laying heavily on my heart...encouraging me to reach as many people as possible.
     Why? Because, people have to know. They have to know that the only reason I can continue on is because of the things I know. Through my faith in my God I know these to be true.
     One...death is NOT the end. As believers we have a place prepared and waiting for us in Heaven. "Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going." John 14: 1-4
     Two...I will see my Lauren again. I only know this because I have intimate knowledge of her salvation and I am also saved through the blood of Jesus, the only way to come to God.
Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." John 4:16
   And three...God's grace and love keep me moving forward. I miss my daughter, everyday. Some mornings it is God's strength and sheer will that get me up. Oh how I would love to just stay under the covers tucked securely in my bed, not wanting to face the cruel, cruel world. But this is not the path for me. I can't just give up and remain stuck in my grief. Mine is truly a grief with hope. Without that hope it would be paralyzing.  My favorite verse that is helping me so much is...
1 Thessalonians 4: 13-14 Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope.  We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.
     As I have been praying the last few months for God to show me what He would have me do, I have been actively seeking out ways to become more involved in my church. I figured what better place for God to reveal His plan for me. About a month ago my pastor presented a sermon about discipleship. The message kept weighing on my heart as I thought more and more about what I could do to share my testimony.
     I finally made an appointment to go and speak with my pastor individually. My plan was to share my story of tragic loss and renewed hope and ask my pastor to pray with me. I would ask that we pray for God to reveal to my pastor a time, if there came a time, that my tale could assist with a sermon. Accentuate and add more punch to the message.
     Now I fully expected to share my story and have the pastor listen nicely and maybe I would hear from him later...much later. Instead, he commenced to run through some upcoming sermons (all great pastors plan ahead) and contemplating where my story could possibly fit. "My message here is....and then the next Sunday it is....no, it wouldn't go well there. But maybe...."
     After thinking it through a bit, my pastor came to the conclusion that my story would best fit on...wait for it...EASTER SUNDAY! Yikes!! Only one of the largest attendance days in most churches, and ours is no exception. Since the message is about overcoming the grave, what better time to hear the testimony of a mother who had to put her daughter in the grave yet continues to grow and move forward with God?
     He asked if I would be willing to come in to meet with the media department to tape my story. He took down my information, including days and times that work. Again, I expected to hear from the church at some later time. I thanked him for visiting and praying with me and went home.
     The very next night, while working the information counter following Wednesday night church dinner, my pastor's secretary approached the desk. She had a business card in her hand with two upcoming dates and times that the media department is prepared for me to come in and tape my story. WOW...I thought, this guy isn't messing around. I wasn't clear on whether I meant my pastor or God, but either way, things were quickly set in motion.
     So...this leads me to ask all of you to pray for me. Pray that I can adequately share how special, funny, gregarious, charming and wonderful my Lauren was in life and how blessed I have been because of God's grace since her death. Pray that my message is potent and will help lead others to the Lord Jesus, for that is the only way to have eternal life. Oh, and pray that I don't look too fat on the big screen, it's a really big screen....thanks so much =)

Year End Review...

     As 2014 comes to a close I can't say I am sad to see it go. This has honestly been the worst year of my entire life. What started off so promising instantly deteriorated into a hell on Earth.
     January brought about a job change for me. Actually, it was a return to a position I had held for years in the past, prior to my stint being a site-based school administrator. Not that I did not enjoy my time as a site administrator and assistant principal...I just came to the conclusion that the culmination of these positions, the Principal's chair, is not a place I want to sit. So I returned to a district level position with the exceptional student education department and have never looked back.
     Life was good, no... life was great. Lauren had returned to school and was reaping the rewards of her hard work the semester prior. She was now a recipient of a full softball scholarship which covered all classes, books, and even a meal on campus everyday. All I had to pay for second semester was her dorm.
     February and March were spent attending as many games as possible including those in Bradenton and Gainesville. I really hated to miss even one. Her team was struggling a little but Lauren was really coming into her own on the mound. Her confidence was growing and her skills were improving.
     Then Lauren Michelle, my step daughter from my past marriage, gave birth to a sweet and healthy baby girl. Lauren Elizabeth was so excited she could hardly stand it. She couldn't wait to be an aunt. Just one more thing going her way.
     Until 12:14 am on March 28. At that time it was all over. No more softball scholarship, no more school, no meeting her niece, no degree, no teaching kindergarten, nothing. In an instant it was all gone.
     And so the rest of the year continued on. Nothing seemed to matter. The new job lost its appeal, but so did everything else. It is a struggle everyday now. A struggle to care...about anything. I sometimes question why? Why work so hard, why try to get in better shape, why sleep, why wake?   
     As a parent you become accustomed to doing what you do for your kids. To provide for them and take care of them. I still have my stepdaughter McKenzie, but she has her dad and mom, I am really just a bystander. She doesn't need me, her parents are great.
     But here's the tricky thing...what option do I have but to go on? I have to continue to act like it's all OK. I have to force myself to get up everyday to go through the motions of what is expected of me...with work, family, friends. So I will ring in 2015 and gladly put this life altering year behind me.   
     My new year's resolution...just get through another year.

Merry Christmas to All

     It is 7:12 on Christmas morning and I am sitting on the couch alone. Kevin is in the kitchen puttering around, making French toast casserole and humming from time to time. Everyone else is still asleep. So I sit here and sip my coffee while looking through pictures on Facebook of friends and family celebrating this wonderful day.
     Yet my heart is heavy. I long for the pitter patter of little feet. I yearn to see my babies as little ones, slowly rubbing the sleepiness out of their eyes as they approach the Christmas tree. To see the look on their faces as they begin to register the treats that lay about, near and beneath the tree.
     See, if I could go back to when my babies were little, my Lauren would be here too. She would snuggle with me on the couch. She would say "Thank you mommy" for whatever prize I had surprised her with this year. She would laugh, and play, and eat and laugh some more.
     It seems so surreal...this first Christmas without my daughter. Peripherally, little has changed at all. Traditions continue. The processes and procedures that we just do, because we have always done them. All of the motion moves on...never pausing, never ceasing.
     And here I sit. I wish I could remain perfectly still and simply allow everything else just to go on around me. Can't I just be a silent observer this year? Isn't it ok for me to sit this one out?
     No, I can't just skip Christmas. That would not be fair. Not fair to the rest of my family, or to me. I will just have to push through. I will smile and I will laugh. I have become very skilled at appearing happy on the outside while broken on the inside.
     I will miss my Lauren today...I miss her everyday. I will close my eyes from time to time and picture Christmas mornings from the past, when she was here with me. I thank God for the times we had and the memories I keep forever. Happy Birthday Jesus...please give my baby girl the biggest piece of cake, she LOVES cake.