"Upsetting the "normal" while creating the beautiful." Annette Kruschek |
From the moment Evelyn entered our lives she demanded time. Our time. The doctors time. God's time.
Time... what a gift that created memories, laughter, healing and hope for a future. Time... a sudden thief that barged in the middle of the night and stole our light and left us breathless. The hands of the clock stood still just as Evelyn's body stood still leaving her entire family to beg for more time with her in it. If I could possess any superpower it would be to hoard time with Evelyn and never let it go. We're approaching two "milestones". Evelyn's birthday and the year anniversary of her passing. I made a promise to Evelyn and God on Mother's Day this past year that I would make Evelyn proud. I told her that I would continue to fight for our family just as Dan and I did for her. I promised her that I wouldn't let my grief consume me so much that I lost the desire to live life to its fullest. I also promised God on that same day that I wouldn't turn bitter towards him. I told him that I fully expect him to answer my prayers and to ignite a small flicker of light in our family again. Death extinguished our main light. Evelyn's loud voice is now just a recording that is heard over and over through our home. Faith is when you believe in something that can't be seen or touched. I can't see my spicy and brave little girl anymore just as I can't hold her tiny little hand; maybe that is why my faith is so big. I can't imagine never seeing her again. Our family is on this side of time while our little Evie is on the other side of eternal time. We're separated. I'm homesick every moment of every day without her. I haven't spoken much about what the loss feels like. I've been quiet about what led to the abrupt departure of Evelyn. The picture above is one that I never thought I would share with anyone outside of our core but then something happened to me the week before Christmas Eve. I hit a plateau with my prayers and my grief journey. "Hopelessness" surrounded me. The word that I have been running from since February 25th finally caught up to me and threw me to the ground. It surrounded me and for the first time in these past 10 months I felt more wounded than ever. What I now realize is that God and Evelyn knew that this day would come. They knew that I needed to reach the end of myself to find my way back. I realize now that I have been so focused on holding the pieces together because I was so afraid of seeing all of my loved ones hurt. There aren't enough Evelyn band aids to ever stop that pain. All of my sleepless nights won't make my kids miss their sister less. No amount of stickie notes to my husband will change his sadness. What I now see is how the simple acts from others lightened the load of grief on my back. We're not meant to carry so much on our own. I'll be the first to admit that I did it to myself because I thought I could do as I did in the past and push through the pain. I'm grateful to my son for driving me to my in-laws house one night. I couldn't tell you if we even carried a conversation and I'll never know how he felt seeing his mom in her pajamas completely transparent with her grief. My kids have all seen me cry but when you let the tears come without any warning of when they'll stop is not easy. Humanness is the ability to admit when you are weak. My promise on Mother's Day to Evelyn was to make her proud. I thought making her proud meant striving, reaching and aspiring to be more but at this chapter in my life I am going to make her proud by saying, "savor this time". I'm speaking from a place of grief to all of my friends who have never walked this path. I pray you never have to attend your child's funeral. I pray you do not have to rethink how to plan celebrations or holidays that no longer have them physically here. Evelyn's life taught our family to live in the moment. We literally laid our life down for her. She demanded it from us and in return we gave her all of us. Today I am here to tell you to give your life away for those you love. Spend the time. Dance in the kitchen. Get dirty. Break schedules. Chase dreams. Create a future and look for kindness in people. I have been beeped at more in the past couple of months than I ever have before. I have gotten dirty looks because I spend just a bit longer in the drive thru at McDonalds thanking "Natalie" for always being so nice. STOP BEING SO RUSHED. I was rushed for years. Evelyn slowed us down even though we had a million things that begged for our attention. I'm here to speak in a place of complete honesty... being rushed steals memories with those you love. The simple memories that are just waiting to be made are so quickly swallowed up by overpacked schedules. Making Evelyn proud right for me means letting you in on our lives. As February approaches and we get closer to a year without her I want you all to know that time doesn't heal the wound. Time was a thief that stole future memories from happening. My only advice is to appreciate the time you have. Thankfully our entire family realized what a gift Evelyn was so we handled her with care and because of that I think we all would agree we have zero regrets with our time with her. I will never expect any of my friends and family to ever understand this grief. It's impossible. All I can do is ask that you see grief as something that doesn't come with a timeline. Continue to be patient and love us where we are. Evelyn's life has purpose. Maybe it is to slow people down and to live in the moment with their kids. Maybe it's to never stop giving up. Maybe it's simply to be a bright light in someone's life. Whatever her purpose I will continue to show up, no matter how tattered our family may be and remind you all that God heals. I'm expecting him to. Evelyn and Norah will forever share their birthdays together. Next Wednesday is their day. Last year when Evelyn blew out her candles I watched with complete happiness because I saw her make eye contact with each and every person who surrounded her. It was as if she was taking a mental photograph of her family realizing that soon she would be leaving to her forever home. Whatever her thoughts were at that magical moment I'm grateful for the gift of time at that moment. I soaked up her smile, her four little candles flickering so bright and was making a wish of my own as she blew out her candles. My wish is to be continued... As for time... hoard it. savor it. appreciate it. May 2022 be a year of learning and yearning for more.
4 Comments
Jackie Gustafson
1/5/2022 03:16:43 pm
Thank you for sharing this. As always, it helps me see things I’ve taken for granted. I just lost my Mom. I can’t compare that to losing a child but I do agree grief doesn’t come with a timeline like some people have said to me. I’m not the writer you are but I do know I totally agree with 100% of your thoughts. Especially, the part that people are in too much of a hurry and too tight of schedules rushing through time instead of enjoying it more. Hugs❤️
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Joe Rains
1/5/2022 03:29:28 pm
Loving your family has been one of the easiest things I've ever experienced. Always has been, always will be, unconditionally. Your family is in my prayers daily.
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Chris Dewey
1/5/2022 08:25:40 pm
I think of you & your family often & say a prayer for strength to help you grieve Evelyn's loss. I can't imagine how difficult it was to write this passage. Grief can take ahold of us & we can choose to hang onto it or move forward. God's almighty power & love is with you every day so grasp every moment in its presence. Sending love & prayers to the Kruschek family!
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Tiffany Esser
1/8/2022 08:43:10 pm
Thank you for your transparent share and know that we send you our love and prayers. I know that you will keep that promise.............
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AuthorI am a proud Mother to eight children and a wife to my very best friend. I work hard, play hard and love until it hurts. Archives
January 2023
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