"Upsetting the "normal" while creating the beautiful." Annette Kruschek |
It's time I put my fingers to the keyboard. My tears need a place to fall and the best way I know how is through my words. My thoughts need to hit the keyboard so that one day I can look at this bloody battlefield with God and realize he and I made it out together and intact; loving each other fully. Full transparency though... God let me down on February 25th. The chapters of the book I've been writing drastically changed on the early morning of that day. Since that day I have been trying to pick up the wreckage that each new day brings without my daughter, his daughter Evelyn Li. God took her from us and decided it was time for him to spend the rest of his days with her. Why would a loving God cause such pain? Why? Why? Why? That is a question I will never get an answer to until the day I see him face to face.
I look at the picture above and feel physical pain. The picture above is my battlefield with God. He took all of my most favorite people in the entire world and asked us to walk through a battlefield so bloody and so traumatic; all while telling us to "trust" him through the fires of grief. I look at Evelyn's little casket and see the tiny cross that is etched above her beautiful face which lays beneath. Her beautiful face, her trademark smile, her louder than loud voice... all of these are just images displayed throughout our house now. The physical side of her is underneath that tiny gold cross that's etched on her casket. It's a complete battleground. The war I have been fighting with God has been one of the heart. He pierced my heart so badly that I feel as if I cannot get up from the ground. The wounds are so deep. I look at my family and I feel as if I am just running with bandages that are not large enough to stop the bleeding. I look around at this battlefield and I wonder when the war will end. I've been blogging for years but something different happened with my writings once I realized we were adopting Evelyn. A spirit was lit inside of me to document her life. I look back at some of my writings now and I have to reread them because I need encouragement from my "old self". My "old self"... what I wouldn't give to go back to that person again. My steadfast faith, my belief that anything is possible when you put God in the driver's seat, the 48 year old who believed in miracles. I miss the old me. I miss my life before February 25th. I yearn for another day, I would take even just a minute to touch her face and feel her body next to mine. The battle stills continues. Here is a part of the battle that is hard for me to write about... I need to put it into writing because someday I will read this and will realize something special. I have a hard time even trying to put this into words because it's so raw and so so painful... I don't understand God's reasons for taking Evelyn so suddenly. I can't make sense of God's choice with cutting Evelyn's earthly life so short. Sometimes the things that make the least sense are the exact things that God uses to show his tremendous love. Evelyn is a perfect example of this... some people scratched their heads when hearing that we were adopting a child so sick and complex. Evelyn defied the odds EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. She survived complication after complication all while drawing people into her spirit. God took a small little girl to prove that God exists. He chose me as her Mother because he knew of my steadfast faith and love for him. He put me on the bloodiest of battlefields and allowed people to get a front row seat at my wounds. Why? Maybe it's because he knew that some people would need my pain to find their faith. The sidelines are filled with people who are watching and wondering if I will turn bitter. It would be so easy to turn bitter. It would be even easier for me to ignore God and continue with my new favorite three letter word, "why?" BUT I'm not looking back into time with "why" and I'm trying out a new words, "what now?" I'm choosing to grab God's hand and move forward into the future with my family and my husband. God hurt me terribly but he also gave me a child who allowed me to believe in miracles. I can't only love him in the good times. I have to remind myself that he knew how many days Evelyn would live on this earth. He knows all of our days. I can say with complete certainty that Evelyn didn't waste a single moment on this earth. I said it once and I will say it again; God and Evelyn teamed up a long time ago. God isn't through with Evelyn's story. God is still in the middle of writing it. I have my fingers firmly planted to the keyboard because Evelyn lives on. Her spirit, her light, her legacy... God brought her here for a reason and I made a promise to him years ago that I would continue to share both his and Evelyn's light even in the moments of darkness. I'm walking a battlefield with God. Rather than turning and running in the other direction I am going walk side by side with him. The war wages on but my LOVE for him is undying and everlasting. God, you know my hurts and you know my pain. Until I see Evelyn again please hold her close and hold our family close while we walk by faith and not by sight.
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I took this picture on the eve of Evelyn's surgery... Dan's hand so bravely signing a consent form to multiple heart surgeries. Heart surgeries that would either give the gift of life or take a life; the life of my little girl.
Confession number one... people think I'm brave. Nope, not brave. Actually I'm afraid of lots of things. One of the biggest things many of you may not know about me is that I was DEATHLY afraid of my parents dying. I'm talking terrified! I equate my anxiety of death to a couple of things... first one, I was a child of older parents. I am the youngest of eight siblings and when I finally came along my parents were 45, (ironic I know since Evelyn is now 4 and I am turning 48 in a couple of weeks. Insert God's masterplan). Anyway, having older parents made me fear them leaving me at a young age. I worried that my parents would never see me get my driver's license, graduate, get married and having kids seemed like a fairy tale. The second reason for my fear of death was one that shook me to my core. When I was thirteen years old my parents and I were involved in a horrible drunk driving accident. I witnessed my father get placed on a gurney and prepped for the Flight For Life. I remember a nurse wheeling my Dad next to my gurney and telling me to say goodbye to my Dad since "it might be the last time I see him." Those words are forever ingrained in my brain. Imagine that, a young teenager hearing those words, "you might not see your father again." Fear. Intense fear that followed me into adulthood. I became almost obsessed with making sure my parents were safe. After getting married and starting a family of my own my parents would drive the 75 mile trek to visit our little family. When they would leave I would make sure they would call the moment they got home, and If they didn't I would begin worrying as if I was that young seventh grader laying on the gurney saying goodbye to my Dad. Deep down I knew it was irrational but the seed of fear had been planted and I didn't know how to conquer it. How is that for a confession? Death was not my friend. Confession number two... as a young kid I was always picked last. If you were born in my generation than you most likely remember the good old days of "picking teams" during Phy Ed class or recess. Here is my version of how "picking teams" would play out in Annette's world as a grade schooler... "Ricky" and "Jim" would become team captains and the pool of peers would eagerly await their name being called, validating that they were "chosen" to be on their beloved team. The pool of kids would eventually dwindle down to the "Not-Quites" and then remaining few, (me included) would almost become a bargaining tool where the captains would go back and forth with who would get the "leftovers". TORTURE! I was a well liked kid and maybe it was because I pretended that it didn't bother me BUT whenever the teacher would announce "let's pick teams" my heart would sink and I knew it was time to put on my biggest and best act with a smile and a funny joke. Confession number two... I was the girl picked last, the leftover, the "Not-Quite". Okay, confession time is over. Now my job is to let you know how in the world these confessions have changed me for the good. Yes, GOOD. I am a firm believer in signs. I trust God with everything I have and know that he gets the final call in my life and in those I love the very most. Did I always see it this way? No way! I looked at God as my personal vending machine... I would insert prayers and trust that my requests would be dropped in my lap. The vending machine prayers seemed to serve me well until the year I traveled to Guatemala and saw despair upon despair; that's when I realized that God doesn't always "play fair" and drop the answers to your prayers in your lap. Over these past 9 years God has continued to open my eyes wider, stretched my faith further and taught me the biggest lesson of all... the vending machine of prayers was missing something huge... ME and my "relationship" with God. Over the past 9 years my journey with him has been one of the most difficult of walks BUT it's also been one of the most authentic of walks. I've realized that he knows me and used my fear of death to show me that I could carry it with his help. He was transforming me from the inside out. Holding my parent's hands as they were passing away didn't make me brave it me bolder in my faith. I can now see how God took a scared and timid girl and waited for just the right time to truly test my faith. I realized the "vending machine" was just a figment of my imagination and my "relationship" with God had changed in the most beautiful of ways. God was no longer this imaginary character that you pray to when you want something but rather our Father to talk to when you want to cry, celebrate and contemplate life decisions. Step by step, test after test... God continued to refine me. I have watched Dan sign multiple consent forms for our heart warriors. I have watched him bravely pick up a pen and sign his name agreeing to complex heart surgeries over the past five years for three of our kids. I can honestly tell you that this last heart surgery and its consent form was very different. In the depth of my soul and in the pit of my heart I knew that God was not promising us Evelyn's life here on this earth. My relationship with God was being put to the test once again. TRUST. God had taken three people from me within the last eight years; my Dad, my Mom and my brother. Deep down I was worried that in some way or another he was preparing me for one of the biggest of losses... the death of my child. While Dan was signing a piece of paper I was signing my own consent with God. I remember it vividly... I snapped the picture that you see above and then I told God I trusted him with his decision because he was in charge. HUGE GROWTH from the girl who feared death. HUGE GROWTH from the girl who was always picked last. I knew God chose Evelyn and yes, even me because in a sense we were the people who were not "chosen". It turns out that God was and is looking for the "Not-Quites" to shout to the world about all of his goodness and faithfulness. Being "chosen" last for Phy Ed was actually a blessing. God knew that he would choose me later in life to be on his team. He knew I would be picked for a purpose and that his game was one that would bring me lasting satisfaction. I still have this beautiful vision of the sun coming in on Evelyn's face only a couple of days after her surgery. She was still in critical condition and we were reminded that we were definitely not out of the woods. Once again, God got my attention and made it crystal clear that he was in charge. The sun shined brightly on her face. It was at that moment that I didn't dwell on her ventilator, her monitors and her current status but rather I knew she was one of the "chosen". God used the little girl who no one expected to survive and he asked her to be brave by allowing him to show the world her tremendous purpose here on earth. I watched Evelyn team up with God at that moment and I soon realized that they were now the captains and they were picking their teams. I can tell you this, there is no better feeling than having God be the captain and having HIM choose you to be on HIS team. I am not brave friends. I am one of the "Not-Quites", the girl who swims against the current, the one who many see as a "Bible Thumper"... I am one of God's chosen and that is a team that I am proud to be on. Whether you are picked first or last God will always find a spot for you on his team. YOU have a purpose. YOU have meaning. YOU are going to be used in a spectacular way if you allow him to choose you. I can look back on my childhood now and see that God used all my fears, failures and hurts for a purpose. I also know that my Mom, Dad and brother, Marty are all very much present here in spirit. I no longer have the ability to see them physically but God being God has definitely made it known that they are at peace and I WILL see them again. Until then, this little girl who feared death is now going to be the posterchild on how to live life to its fullest!! The moral of the story is that everyone has a purpose... Don't let anyone steal that from YOU!! God is teaching you something through your fears. Open your heart to what he is trying to do. The walk gets harder when you live closer to him but I ASSURE you that you will never feel more alive when you let down your guard and live authentically. Live today as if it was your last day and love bigger than you ever have before! From the girl picked last... much love to you all. In a rural and poor city; in the backroom of a overpacked and understaffed orphanage God handpicked an "outcast"; an "unlikely" child an "underdog"... he chose my daughter, Evelyn Li. It's both a privilege and honor but it comes with a great responsibility. As I sit at the foot of her bed and watch God use her I know that my responsibility comes from not preaching about God but rather allowing you all into our lives to watch God work through her. As each hour passes while sitting at the foot of her bed I can't shake the feeling that Evelyn is one of the "chosen" that God uses. In the Bible you will encounter people God chose. God seldom chose those who are most likely to succeed; they had flaws, weaknesses and impossible odds. Why them? Why Evelyn? Here's my theory about Evelyn... a malnourished 18 month old baby living in the backroom of an orphanage. A child seemingly forgotten. A child with scars and complexities that are far beyond our comprehension. God laid the groundwork far before my eyes met with hers. God knew my heart. He knew what put a fire in my belly. God and Evelyn teamed up because he knew about my big mouth and knew that I would let the world know about this little "underdog". God knew that this little underdog would be collecting unbelievers, those of little faith, the tired, the worn, the ones who feel forgotten. He knew that I would make sure that God gets the credit and the glory.
If I had a dollar for every time I heard, "I didn't think it was possible". "we can't really explain it" I would be the richest girl in this hospital right now. From the beginning with Evelyn's expedited paperwork for her adoption to the marathon heart surgery which entailed seven heart surgeries in one day... God chose a child with terrible odds of surviving and gave all of you a front row seat to watch him use an unlikely hero to bring believers into his kingdom. As I sit at the foot of Evelyn's bed right now and I watch the glow of the sunset pour into her hospital room I feel the presence of God so strongly. Evelyn and God have given me some of the greatest of sunsets in the past two months. My Mom came to me in a dream which involved naming our new home, Sunset Acres. Heaven is definitely getting my attention these days. As I sit at the foot of her bed today I see a child who so bravely accepted God's invitation to be used. That is brave!! Speaking from experience it's one of the scariest statements I have ever made with God. Dan and I have accepted similar invitations to be used by him. Whenever Dan and I make a decision that outwardly looks "reckless"; it's a decision that doesn't come from our desire to be impulsive but it's a result from giving up our human control and agreeing to have HIM use US. I always count on God to guide our steps. He has the manual to living a bold life. As I write this I am looking at a child who came home at 13 lbs. and was considered "inoperable". I look at a child who endured an 18 hour surgery which entailed seven open heart surgeries. I look at a child who has the brightest of surgeons and staff scratching their heads and telling us how this is unchartered territory. As each hour passes and with each person who enters this room I am reminded how Evelyn's invitation to say yes to God to be used is working. She accepted a big assignment and she is doing just as God had asked. "Be still and know..." Her job write now is to continue to be still in order for God to achieve the greatness he has planned for her. He is moving in her life while also moving in all the lives who are following her story. The underdog, the unlikely... Evelyn Li. Thank you for accepting God's invitation to be used to the greatest of degrees. Your life is changing lives. Thank you for allowing me to be a vessel to share your story. Accept God's invitation. Say yes to something that seems "reckless". Be a part of something bigger than you could ever imagine. Be used by God because once you do you will never be the same. In honor of Evelyn, take that risk and yes to God. How do I begin? The pages of this next chapter haven't been written yet. I'm looking at the next chapter that our family is only days away from entering and have such great anticipation of what lies ahead, but God being God has left the next pages blank; ready for us to write along side him. I want to write a chapter filled with fairy tale words and imagery but I've learned that God doesn't and has never proven his love that easy.
In three short days we will be packing up our entire world and begin a new chapter in the country. It may come as a surprise to many but it's been in the making for quit awhile. We didn't know when, we didn't know where and we didn't know how. That part of the story we left up to God to lead the way and that he did. I have learned time and time again that when you put God solely in the drivers seat you need to make sure you buckle up for a ride that isn't smooth and sometimes not exactly "safe". Dan and I made the choice to move for a variety of reasons; always keeping our commitment to our family and our marriage as the biggest priority. I've learned and have seen firsthand how sometimes our decisions; whether it be adopting, moving in aging parents and now moving has created people to scratch their heads and wonder why. I've watch some sit on the sidelines and watch with hopefulness for failure and I have even had to say goodbye to some relationships because they became too toxic for me and our family. BUT I have also witnessed BEAUTIFUL unexpected prayers be answered because of our faithfulness of trusting God with it all. It's almost become like a mathematical equation... step out in faith, add in roadblocks and heartache but in the end the final solution is always God. These past two months have been difficult. It wasn't until we found our new home that we learned Evelyn would need another heart surgery sooner than everyone had expected. Looking back now I see why God did that... had we known we were up against the biggest surgery of her life we never would have never thought about moving. We would have done what we have done for the past several years, put it on the back burner. Whether it was the demands of raising young children, caring for my aging parents, adopting or preparing for a surgery the timing was never right. Well, the timing might not be ideal but here we are... turning the page to the next chapter! This house has 13 years of SO many beautiful memories living inside of it. I am taking them ALL with me. This house was also my parents final resting spot before they allowed our entire family to usher them to heaven. Beautiful but one of the most painful chapters of my life. Death. It feels so final but my Mom and Dad taught me firsthand that life goes on. Heaven is real and this current life is temporary. God ABSOLUTELY made it crystal clear over a month ago that he approved of our move. IF YOU READ NOTHING ELSE READ MY FOLLOWING WORDS... Over a month ago I went to bed and couldn't get the worry out of my head. The worry of leaving my parents behind in this home. I felt excitement for the next chapter but also felt guilt for leaving the walls that brought them to their final days. I drifted off to sleep to only see my Mom in my dream. She was healthy, she was standing up straight and the parkinson's disease that claimed her life was no longer visible. It was the most beautiful image of my Mom. As I walked over to her standing in my dining room I said, "Mom are you sad that we're moving?" Her response was one I will NEVER forget... "Oh goodness no Annette. I am coming with you and you will name your new home Sunset Acres." I awoke and did what I always do when I have a vivid dream, I text it to myself before I forget. Without any glasses on I frantically texted myself my Mom's words. God spoke to me through my Mom! The best part of this story... our new home sits on five acres and the front porch faces the sunset! There isn't one single tree to ever block the view of the sunset. I took the picture above last weekend when Dan and I had the blessing of watching our first sunset together. Last week I dug up my Mom's rose bush and peony bush that were given to us in memory of my Mom. They will be properly placed in the front of the house overlooking the sunset. Thank you Mom for reminding me once again that God has our hand in this next chapter that hasn't been written yet. Thank you for once again reminding me that heaven is real and that you and Dad are watching our family and holding us close as we journey together. I'm here to say to all of you, write the next chapter. I've learned that for every new beginning you must need an end to something or it wouldn't be new. It's okay to take risks as long as you keep God in the center of those risks. It's okay to fail, because if you never did you would never know the feeling of triumph. It's okay to be different from others because God didn't create us all to be identical. Sunset Acres is my validation that God is always in control. Every time I witness a sunset from our new home I will be grateful for the narrow path that led us here. If you have stayed long enough to read this entire blog then trust me with my words... God sees YOU today and all the days that follow. Trust him with your life so you can continue to write the pages of your next chapter. Sunset Acres is proof that heaven is real. Keep writing your story. Clinging. Standing on the ledge with God and literally clinging with fear as he tells us to jump. Two years ago Dan and I found ourselves in a very similar situation. Two years ago two doctors came into a small room to tell Dan and I about the results from Evelyn's very first heart catheterization. The results were far from hopeful; in fact we were looking at life that could potentially be cut far too soon... the life of our daughter. BUT then HOPE appeared in the darkness. Evelyn's surgeon had a plan. A risky plan that other doctors would not have chosen to take but he did and for that Dan and I are forever grateful!
Two years have passed since that earth shattering moment. Two years of healing, growing, conquering, climbing. Evelyn has been tackling every obstacle that has stood in her way. She has reached each and every goal that doctors have placed in her path in record time. Two years of LIVING, laughing, snuggling, running, talking and loving. Yesterday Dan and I found ourselves in a similar room listening to similar earth shattering language about Evelyn's diagnosis. I consider myself smart when it comes to reading the faces of people. I've always said that somedays I feel as if I can physically feel someone's pain when they are hurting. Yesterday Evelyn's surgeon walked in the consult room and from the moment he sat down I instantly knew this upcoming surgery was going to be a "toes to the ledge moment" with God. My stomach sank.... the feeling you get when you swing too high or you climb aboard a roller coaster and your car plunges from the highest of heights. That was my stomach. Instantly I wanted to cling to anything that can promise me a good outcome; cling to anyone who can promise me that my daughter will live; cling to these past two years of watching God show off all that he is capable of. Instantly I want to stop the hands of time and savor the precious moments with Evelyn... Play doh stuck under little finger nails, messy pony tails, smiles larger than life, dress up clothes, lipstick, laughter among her siblings... I want those moments to freeze and not take another step forward into the great land of the unknown. Here we are again. Toes to the ledge with Evelyn and God. God telling us to TRUST. I'll be honest right now... I'm tired. I've trusted him with SO MUCH. The life of my daughter... trust. The sale of our home... trust. I found myself last night praying and asking for an easier path. I found myself begging and almost bargaining with him that if he made the path more crystal clear I would walk out onto the ledge another time. Silly, isn't it? Bargaining with the person who gifts us a new day. I actually thought to myself, " haven't I been good enough?" I asked, "why us?" "Why Evelyn?" I drifted off to sleep and when I woke I walked over to Evelyn's crib; her messy piggy tails were poking out of the rails of the crib, her little toes were peeking out of her blanket and her sweet face was at peace. I stopped for a brief moment and said to myself. "PEACE", that's what I am searching for. I feel as if Dan and I are in the middle of a forest with no path to get us out of the deep woods. We have each other, yes, but the woods are so very thick that we can't see any light at the other end. I'm begging God for a flashlight. I don't need much... No flare, no chainsaw to cut the trees down. I'm begging for a small flashlight just to shed a bit of light to help us walk the teeniest of steps. I'll be patient. I will be determined. I will not give up... JUST GIVE ME SOME LIGHT. Then I sat down to read early this morning and God gave me a teeny flashlight... I opened my book to a page that has been holding a bookmark for far too long. There it was... "Following God doesn't mean the path will be easy; it means it will be meaningful." AMEN to that!!!!!! Evelyn's path. It's a path that is far from easy BUT it has been meaningful. Evelyn is bringing people back to their faith. She is a reminder that God uses people for a very specific reason. I'm begging God to continue to use Evelyn in BIG ways here on earth. I am praying for God to keep her here to grow up and live a long life. I want my path to be God's path, but here I stand with my small flashlight and I will take whatever small light he decides to give me because it's a gift. His light is a gift. If Dan and I can only see a couple of tiny steps in front of us today through the deep woods we will take them. We would be crazy not to. We're moving forward. We're trusting God. We're clinging to HOPE. We're thankful for another day. In the next month Dan and I will load up our home and move out to the country . The timing is definitely not what we had chosen BUT once again God has his own timeline. Within this month we will find out if Evelyn will have her "iron man" surgery. Dan and I have been told that it comes with a "minimal margin for error". It comes with the biggest of fears of my life. Within this month we will find out if her surgery will be here or in Boston. Within this month we will find out what exact surgery will be performed. A "patch" with no true repair or the biggest of big surgeries with no promise for tomorrow. Both options one could say come with little light BUT GOD is in the business of HOPE. Within the next month I will be clinging to my teeny tiny flashlight and praying for God to show us the way... Light. God, light up our path within this next month! I write to calm my fears. I write to be brave and say what is in my heart but bravery only comes from God. If you want to help our family be brave over the next month please light our path with your prayers. We welcome all the light we can get right now. GOD, LIGHT THE WAY!!! *Here we are again... two years later. Click on the link below to read my blog post from 2018. Two years ago... "Do you have a family statement that is unique to your family? A statement that if belted out in public would make absolutely no sense to the outside world? Our family has more than a few but this one in particular has stuck and I believe it's pertinent to share it with you all right now...
"Smile, Stick Together And Say Thank You To The Crossing Guard..." This "Kruschek statement" began 15 years ago when saying goodbye to Hattie and Charlie as they would head out the door for school. I can still picture that moment as if it was just yesterday; over sized backpacks on little backs, two eager bodies racing to the front door to begin their three block voyage to school for the day. I can't tell you how the statement began. Maybe it was because one of them "woke up on the wrong side of the bed", maybe one was being pokey and the other didn't want to wait, (insert Charlie) or maybe it was because Dan and I noticed the retired crossing guards at the end of the block that volunteered their time to cross children no matter what the weather. Either way, "Smile, Stick Together And Say Thank You To The Crossing Guard" was birthed and became our daily statement as our two eager beavers would leave for school each morning. I've been quiet for so long about what a toll these months have taken on our nation since this pandemic has begun. I don't share my political beliefs, my medical beliefs or scientific beliefs. I don't share for several reasons and I will most likely continue down this path because it aligns with what Dan and I feel is most appropriate for our family. One area however that I feel comfortable stretching myself is human kindness. Having an opinion about respect or lack of respect is something I don't tend to shy away from speaking out. Two weeks ago our family loaded up and headed to South Dakota to enjoy one of our last family trips before our family begins a new chapter. The timing was not ideal due to the pandemic however in hindsight it was perfect since it allowed us to distance ourselves from others and to focus just on one another. It was beautiful. The sights of the landscape, the terrain of the land, the smiles on my kids faces BUT, I repeat BUT it also came with LOUDNESS, crying outbursts from a 3 year old who didn't want to have one more second in her car seat. It came with multiple stops on the side of desolate roads when a certain boy needed to use the restroom. It also came with tube feedings at crazy times in a bumpy vehicle. Not all areas of our trip were picture perfect which leads me to the picture above... Norah's face speaks volumes. She was hot, tired of being in the van and the sun was "too bright" for her. All the kids and yes, even the adults reached their moments when they reached their limit. The younger kids immediately let you know with their emotions flying out of control and the young adults would show it by slapping on their headphones and even trying to "pretend sleep" so they could vanish under the momentary chaos. Dan and I however were and always are on spotlight with our kids. Whether you want to believe it or not our kids are watching us 24/7. They are looking to us to see how we handle the chaos, the outbursts, the arguing and the loudness. Why? Because we are their teachers. We're their models. We're their instruction manuals on how you play the confusing game of life. Whew, that's pressure! I don't know about you but I like my privacy. I want to have my own emotions but once we have children we have immediate responsibility to teach kindness, respect and yes, even reservation from saying everything and anything you want. It's easy to engage in an argument; holding your tongue is hard. Our kids are watching how often we engage in arguments, stomp our feet when we don't get our way and yell at others when our opinions don't immediately fall inline with the next person. I don't think I am the first parent that has said, "I see so much of me in my child". I look at statements my kids say or slang they use and absolutely know it was learned from me. The good, the bad and even the funny. I am no different from any of you. I get mad. I get short tempered. I don't get nearly enough sleep some weeks which results in less patience. It's all normal. God was even frustrated with his own disciples when they all fell asleep. God knew his time was coming and he prayed in the Garden at Gethsemane only to find his weary disciples sleeping rather than praying for him. God forgives. God gives us a pass when we mess up. God is still giving me a another day to work on myself each day I am gifted another day. I believe our Country is heading down a very steep slope with our children. Human kindness, respect for others and holding our tongues has taken a backseat. It's time we re-evaluate our motives about always trying to "be right". It's time to look at our audience, (our children). If you spill ugliness in front of your children they are learning that spilling is appropriate. I'm pretty sure when you witness your child spill their milk you immediately say, "grab a washcloth and clean it up". It's time as a Country and as parents we start running to the nearest washcloth and begin cleaning up the ugly and criticizing words that is spilling out of OUR mouths on a daily basis. If we want this world to be a "clean" place to live for our children after we leave this earth then it begins with US. The other day I was grocery shopping and got publicly yelled at. I was quite excited about the large ice cream bars in the center cooler that for a brief moment I lost sight of my oddly parked cart. I had my cart parked in the wrong direction. I forgot about the sticker footprints that were on the ground. I made a mistake and faced my cart in the wrong direction. Years ago this would have been seen as an oversight but not now. An older man passed my cart and behind his mask he said, "Ugh, follow the stickers!" I immediately looked up and said, "oh, sorry." His response as he continues walking... "Sure you are, ya big liar!" It was at that moment that I realized we as a Country we have a lot of cleaning up to do. Words spilling everywhere. Judgement spilling everywhere. Opinions spilling everywhere. OUR KIDS ARE WATCHING. If we want them to clean up after themselves then it's time we clean up our acts. I'm grateful for another day. I'm grateful for forgiveness from my children when I am not the role model I should always be. My parents were wonderful role models because they weren't "perfect". They made mistakes and were always willing to share in their mistakes. That's how we learn. It's never to late to begin holding our tongues, asking for forgiveness, allowing a different opinion. It's not too late to clean up our mess because we absolutely owe it to our children. I will leave you with this... "Smile. Stick Together. Say Thank You To The Crossing Guard." Smile at your neighbors, even those who don't align politically with you. Stick Together with this Country. We are ALL enduring hardships and carrying burdens we don't fully understand. Say Thank You To The Crossing Guard... it may not be the older person at the end of the block crossing your child BUT it could be the person who accidentally bagged your groceries wrong or a clerk who seemed "short" with you. Say THANK YOU. It's the nice thing to do. I would imagine you would want that same treatment for your child. Kindness. Acceptance. Forgiveness and Grace. If you have taken the time to read my ramblings, thank you. If you choose to adopt our family statement feel free BUT you must follow them. "Smile", "Stick Together" and say "Thank You to the Crossing Guard." Who knows... a small little movement could begin because of two little children heading off to school 15 years ago. Much Love to you all. The rose... It's beautiful. It's fragrant, It's loved by many. That's our Evelyn. I sit writing this blog from the familiar fourth floor of the ICU; Evelyn's second home. Today I found myself processing new information about Evelyn and was oddly comparing her to my Mom's rose bush in our backyard. Why on earth would the two things be put into the same category? Well, here goes... the picture above for starters. Our little rose, Evelyn... she's beautiful, she's loved by many and she adds life to anyone who comes close to her BUT she also comes with thorns. The thorns are a part of her beauty and some days they cause pain. My Mom's rose bush in my backyard right now looks like nothing but a dead large bush. There wasn't a single bud on it until last week which gave me HOPE that it would return for another season. To the naked eye my Mom's rose bush looks like it will never be that beautiful blossoming bush I vividly remember seeing last year. I remember timidly pruning back the rose bush this past fall in hopes it would grow even more. I remember trimming it down and thinking to myself, "why didn't I just leave it the way it was". Well, for all those green thumbs who are reading this know that in order for something to flourish and continue to grow you must prune it. Think of a beautiful field filled with wildflowers... it's burned in order to weed out the old in order to make way for the new.
Living with Evelyn is similar to my Mom's rose bush. She has blossomed. She continues to blossom and grow BUT through the growth comes thorns and pruning. Evelyn has been experiencing an increase in blood flow to her shunt which is resulting in an increase of heart failure... thorn. BUT she also is experiencing a decrease in pressures to her lungs... bud. She will need more heart medication to combat the heart failure... thorn. BUT this is proving that her VERY damaged lungs are improving.... bud. The list goes on... stress on family... thorn. A family to love her forever... bud. No promises as to the result of a future surgery... thorn. Options! A team of doctors who are fighting for her. HUGE BUD! I'm learning as I go to never get too comfortable with the day to day experiences with Evelyn. She is blazing her own trail. You could say she is demanding that we continue to prune her beautiful bush because she knows she has ability to create the biggest and most beautiful rose bush anyone has ever witnessed. While we go through the seasons of pruning I will never lose sight of this rose who is blossoming right in front of me. I will admit, her thorns really do hurt some days and take me by surprise when I get too close to them, but isn't that what life is all about? Getting close to something beautiful but risking hurt and pain. The current state of the world right now feels a bit like a rose bush being pruned; it looks ugly, beaten down and at times unsalvageable. BUT within all of the pruning I am seeing beauty. Voices being heard. Hearts being touched. Ears listening. Looting, vandalism, racism, death... all the thorns are hurtful but I do believe there is some serious pruning happening in the world and because of that our country will blossom greater than it was before. It really is all about HOPE. I don't live my life with my eyes fixed on what I can only see. So much of my HOPE comes from what I can't see. It's God's way of working good out of the bad. What do you need to prune in your life right now in order to allow it to grow? Don't stifle something from growing. Growth hurts some days but take a look at the picture above and I think you will agree that growth also brings BEAUTY and renewed HOPE. The next time you see a rose remember what it took in order for that beauty to grow... pruning and patience. Allow God to prune you today. Let him into your life to cut out the dead and ugly. He has beauty in store for you if you are patient enough to allow it. "A picture is worth a thousand words." That saying couldn't be more true. A thousand words doesn't come close to explaining our relationship or the love I have for this woman. Though we were 45 years apart in age we made up for it with our similar love for thrift shops, garage sales, early morning walks, devotion to prayer and of course our love for McDonald's diet cokes. It was our daily outing together... hitting the drive thru and ordering "one senior diet coke and one large diet coke". We couldn't peel the straw wrapper off fast enough to see who would get the first sip. It was serious business. I can still hear her elation when she would take in her first sip. The smile. The sound. The pure joy about something so very simple.
The picture above holds two special stories that are near and dear to my heart. The photo you see of my Mom and I is the last picture I ever took of us. In fact, it was our first and last "selfie". This picture was taken at Charlie's graduation party; little did I know that only two weeks later she would be beginning her journey to her forever home. The two diet cokes you see behind us were our final diet cokes; which leads me to our final toast... it was unconventional but it was definitely God ordained. It was in the back of an ambulance. My Mom was in the final days of her life and no longer wanted to be in the hospital. Her wishes were to be in her home when she passed. The morning arrived when the transport team showed up at the hospital and very respectfully loaded her into the ambulance. I was fortunate to have the final ride with my Mom. It was a thirty minute ride that will forever be a gift. We shared whispered words about the silliest things; she wanted to know what landmarks we were passing, what exit number we were approaching, what direction we were driving. While my Mom's body was at it weakest her mind never lost its incredible sharpness. The God ordained moment came in the back of the ambulance when I jokingly said to my Mom, "Wouldn't it be nice to have a McDonalds diet coke right about now?" No sooner did those words leave my mouth did I hear the co-pilot quietly say to the driver, "hey what do you think?" Within 15 minutes of that statement we found ourselves in the parking lot of our local McDonalds. I ran inside and saw the familiar faces of those who normally would greet us at the drive thru. Their friendly smiles instantly turned to sadness when I explained why I was coming inside to retrieve our diet cokes. The staff walked over to the large windows to see an ambulance triple parked awaiting cold diet cokes. While filling up the diet cokes I grabbed my phone to take a picture of the moment. The timestamp on my phone was 11:11 am. To many this doesn't mean anything but to my inner circle of family it was a significant time that has always been discussed... it was the time that I was born. My Mom always made sure to shout out when she would see it. My kids say, "make a wish" when they see it. I don't believe it was an accident that at exactly 11:11 am I was preparing the final toast for my Mom and I. Which leads me to our toast. It wasn't as I envisioned it. It wasn't filled with tears. It was exactly as my Mom would want it... humorous, unconventional, understated and semi-private. The icing on the cake was when we clinked our cardboard cups together and I told her that our beloved diet cokes were free! The smile on her weak face still had light in it. She was still my Mom and nothing stood in the way of that sweet moment together. Mother's day is approaching for many across the globe this weekend. While it's a happy time for many it's also a bittersweet time for some. I am here to tell you a few things that I no longer have the ability to do anymore. Sip a diet coke together, listen to her call out road signs during our afternoon drives, laugh at re-runs of our favorite Seinfeld episodes. I miss her voice. I miss our daily times together. I miss it all. The hard. The sleepless nights. The worries. If you are fortunate to have a Mother use this weekend to toast to her. Use this time to ask her questions about her childhood. Tape her voice. Take those pictures. Laugh together. If your relationship is strained, I am sorry for that. Forgiveness is a beautiful thing. It doesn't mean you forget the hurts it means you are willing to open your heart to new possibilities. Don't let a day go because you truly never know when it will be the last. If your Mother left you for reasons you may never understand and you have no way of contacting her I am also sorry for that. I have eight beautiful children; four of which who call me Mom but somewhere in the world they have birth Moms who carry the ache and mystery of their children. We are all on this planet because of a Mother. The story behind each Mother is different; some beautiful, some broken but all holding one thing in common... they all carried us in their womb and gave us life. If you can no longer toast to your own Mother please find a Mother that you admire or one that is lonely and send them some virtual love this weekend. Everyone deserves love. This weekend more than ever let's not let politics, past hurts or bitterness get in the way of bridging the gap. Fill that space with love. Sunday I'll be purchasing a senior diet coke and a large diet coke. I won't be sharing it with my Mom BUT I will be sharing it with someone who doesn't try to take her space; she actually fills it differently in the best way possible... my Mother-in-law. I don't deserve her but God knew one day my heart would be broken so he found someone to help heal the wound. Carmen, if you are reading this; you are a gift to me. You love unconditionally. You live life to its fullest and you ask for nothing in return. You deserve all the happiness the world has to offer. Thank you for loving me. Happy Mother's Day. Happy Mother's Day to all of my beautiful readers who continually walk my road of both pain and love. It's messy at times but it's also a road worth walking. Stay on the path my friends you never what lies ahead. I've been silent for awhile. I have lots to say but fearful of telling you, "the way it is". Every time I put my words to the keyboard I get nervous thinking I am being too vulnerable and walk away from my thoughts.
Tonight though it occurred to me... life is like a big arena. You have those who are in your arena that support you and show up no matter what; then you have those who are the bystanders who secretly watch from the sidelines in hopes of seeing heartache and failure. I've decided that there are many cheap seats but if you are in my arena then I'm going to take a chance and tell you about failing, falling and heartache. Since you are reading this then I'm assuming you bought tickets inside my arena and didn't choose the cheap seats. So here goes.. . It's been a loooooong winter. It's been seven weeks of living inside our home. Seven weeks of Dan and I splitting up for sporting events, birthday parties and all outings. It's been a balancing act not just for us but for our kids. They paid the price as well. No friends were able to come into our home and having two parents cheer them on together was a past time. The goal was to keep Evelyn healthy for her surgery. It seemed that everything we did focused on the goal of getting Evelyn to her surgery. Well, personally speaking what also happened during those seven weeks was a mental dress rehearsal I walked myself through. I envisioned the surgery day, the outcome, the complications, the tragedy. I'll be honest, I walked myself through what life would be like without our daughter. I imagined her not surviving and what that would look like for our family, my marriage our future. It's messy. It's complicated and it's something that I never thought I would ever do as a Mother. I'm not telling you this for your sympathy because here we are on the other side of a successful surgery praising God for his answered prayers, but I am telling you this so I can actually put my thoughts to the keyboard and see them as they are... truth. Evelyn conquered another surgery. She came home in 10 days; beating her record by a day from her last surgery. She did what she does best... surprised many intelligent doctors by her sheer grit to survive. Being in the hospital and watching Evelyn crush goals while doing it with a positive attitude was a beautiful thing. Watching my prayers be answered and seeing God breathe life into her little body was such affirmation that he created her for something special here on earth. BUT the flip side to this love story is the homecoming. One would think it would be trumpets blaring and confetti flying through the air but instead it was as if I woke up to a dream and now I was no longer in back in January but rather in March. Where did those two months go? Who was I during those two months? How well of a Mother was I to the rest of the kids for the two months? My husband... who was that person? We essentially have been tag-teaming and "surviving" for two months while "smiling" through it so the rest of the kids never sensed we were scared. The weight of that takes a toll. If feels really heavy and what I noticed most... my inner most joy was buried. One thing I have learned after the death of my parents and my brother is this... finding the joy in everyday things isn't as easy as it once was. It takes time. I remember the first time I genuinely smiled after my Dad died and I knew it was from him. It felt so good to feel happiness that was genuine. Well, life began to feel lighter and easier. Smiles came naturally and I felt like I had a good grip on life again. Then death came knocking on my door again. My Mother and my brother. I have been really trying to find that genuine happiness. I know that is what my Mom would want but to be honest, she passed away and then two months later Dan brought Evelyn home from China. Death was staring me in the face again through not my parents, my brother but rather my own child. I guess one could say that we have been living on high alert or in the "red zone" for quite sometime. I want it to be perfectly clear... I wouldn't change one thing about our decision with our faith-filled yes with bringing Evelyn into our family. She is absolutely the glue to keeping our family together. She completes us in a way we never could have imagined BUT her presence has rocked us, pushed us and scared us like no other child in our family. Evelyn has made me more vulnerable than I ever imagined possible. "Vulnerability"... showing up when you don't know the outcome. BOOM! That in a nutshell is Evelyn. That in a nutshell is why I feel like I woke up and now am wondering where the last seven weeks have gone. I have been trying to figure out her outcome. I have been trying to envision what life would look like without her in our home, our family pictures and in future memories. Here I am looking at a calendar that says March but I am stuck wondering where January and February have gone. JOY is the most vulnerable emotion. I have been dress rehearsing tragedy for too long. I guess one could say I am terrified to feel joy because I am afraid of the other shoe dropping and my greatest fear becoming a reality. Feeling JOY, deep to the core joy is something that I am craving. My prayers right now are for me to acknowledge these past two months and accept how difficult they were on our entire family. I pray that these past two months have made my other kids more accepting of taking turns with their parents, more patient with a change in plans and more loving. I pray that these past two months have been a testimony to my marriage vows; in good times and in bad. God sees Dan and I. He sees our love for one another and never ever would ask for heartache or heartbreak. I continue to tell myself that God never ever wastes a hurt. He uses our hurts for his good. I believe with everything in my being that Evelyn has a purpose that is beyond my comprehension. I just need to get out of my own head and live life with her rather than dress rehearsing tragedy. JOY. I'm declaring it today. I've written it down. You all have read it and have agreed to buy only the seats within my arena. The cheap seats are just that... cheap. The view is bad. Thank you for joining me in my arena and allowing me to be real. It's time to find JOY in the ordinary moments again. "You cannot change what you don't acknowledge." I remember hearing this quote years ago and today while looking at this picture that quote popped into my head. Society tells us that we need to be strong, independent and happy. "Have it your way", "Do what makes you feel good", "Take the easy road"...
This picture goes against all of those phrases. I can't have it my way. I'm not doing what makes me feel good and the road ahead certainly isn't going to be easy. Evelyn is preparing for another heart surgery. The smiles you see are real, genuine and created out of trust for one another. This girl doesn't have to trust me; heck she has every reason in the world not to give her love away so freely BUT she isn't skimpy with her love. Evelyn's criteria is quite simple... if you give her time and show her that she is valuable she will shower you with the greatest gift... the gift of herself. Today we had a meeting with Evelyn's cardiologist. Without going into too much detail I will share that Dan and I are once again at a point where we need to lean on one another, rely on our deep faith and trust in the knowledge of the cardiac team. Evelyn is once again facing another big heart surgery. A surgery that one year ago wasn't an option but because of God's beautiful story and the commitment of this outstanding team we are entering another chapter in Evelyn's healing. The smile on my face in the picture is real. I couldn't love this little girl more than I do right now. She has a smile larger than life and because of that I have learned to live life larger and cast my fears further away BUT that doesn't mean I don't have them. The fears of Evelyn's upcoming surgery are real. When leaving our meeting today Dan and I drove home in almost complete silence; the only sound heard was from a very happy little girl. We could hear Evelyn humming to the tune of Finger Family Song in the backseat. The front seat was quiet... a familiar quiet. When preparing for a heart surgery Dan and I tend to go into our own safe place and process what we've learned. Evelyn's heart is the most unique out of our three heart kids. She is far from "typical" or "average" so when hearing about her surgery, the risks and the recovery I know we both tend to breathe deeper and take in the information longer. I came home this evening and found myself wishing I was only having to worry about what I was going to put on the table for the Friday night meal. I wish that the biggest decision I would have to make was if I wanted baked or mashed potatoes but instead here Dan and I are having to tell our kids that their sister is going to have another heart surgery next month. Life suddenly becomes small again. The bubble begins to form and with that bubble so many things on the "to do" list become very irrelevant. I'm not suggesting our other kids lives or schedules do not matter but in our house when a surgery is on the horizon everyone has an understanding that we all band together for the good of the family. I came home this evening and the first thing I wanted to do was call my parents. No matter how old I get, hearing the voice of my parents has a calming effect on my mind and heart. I no longer have that gift. Dan reminded me tonight that they are here and are watching everything unfold. God gave me a second set of parents... my in-laws. I did what only seemed natural and I picked up the phone to call my father-n-law. I am sure that my Dad was behind that phone call because I can't remember ever having a conversation as long as I had tonight with him. The smile you see on my face is real friends but it doesn't come without a cost. The stakes are so very high when you love medically fragile children BUT it does in no way mean we shouldn't love them from the start. I am here to tell you to not have pity on Evelyn or feel sorry for her situation. Evelyn is here as a reminder to love one another as they are... imperfections and all. In the end we are all imperfect. The biggest difference with Evelyn is that Dan and I are in a situation where we are choosing what would be the best outcome for her future. That is a decision, an enormous decision that isn't taken lightly. God obviously chose us for a reason, what that is I do not entirely know but what I do know is that we cannot change what we don't acknowledge... LOVE is risky. Faith is just that... faith. When you put both of those things together what do you have? A life worth living. I think Dan would agree that our family has lived and loved bigger since Evelyn entered our lives. Tomorrow I will rise and once again be reminded of the reality of what is to come. Tomorrow I will rise and witness a smile larger than life and realize that God placed Evelyn in our family for a very specific reason. Smile through the fears friends. God sees you. He certainly sees Evelyn and I am trusting he is holding our hands through all of the decisions that lie ahead. |
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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