The two year mark

We have survived two years. Two whole years. We have not really lived through these years.  It feels like we have mostly literally survived.  We have done some things and grown in that time. Two years of making new family memories and two years of only memories of  our sweet "Bugman".  During that time we lost his Granny - she got to see him first!  We got a guy (lots of guys actually) graduated!  We did some travelling and did some housework.  Life goes on.  Like it or not!  Rye would be 25 now, the same age I was when he was born.  My brain still screams all the time but now it is less than at first.  When we started the journey it was like being a banshee in a cyclone.  There was no reprieve from the screaming.  I have somewhat learned to block it out for periods of time now. Music helped and still does.  I often wonder how long the screaming in my head will last.  Probably forever.  The headaches still continue as well although not as bad as when we started.

Remember when we had survived one year - one whole year - and I said I hoped it might get better or easier for the second year?  It didn't.  In a lot of ways it has actually been harder.  We now remember the little things about Rye that the grief fog blocked out last year - I'm sure because they would be overwhelming and we weren't ready to handle those. They are wonderful memories that bring smiles through pain.  We remember more about things we did, things he said and songs (Burl Ives "Little White Duck"), sounds, laughter, and expressions.  Sometimes his brother sounds so much like him it is a joy and a terrible pain at the same time.  We also had to go through some more boxes of his items that we had put off - like they weren't looming in the guest closet anyway every time we went to store something in there.  But then someone needed to use the guest room and needed the closet space so we went through the boxes.  Memories and smells, and for some reason lots of Chapstick!?!  But no dirty socks - Bonus!

We remember good things too - joyful things.

Left photo is Chad pulling Rye on his little snow machine and sled.  Right photo is Rye on our cruise of New York Harbor - backed up by Lady Liberty.  It was a great trip!


I am a little less fragile now, I can hug and be hugged without it feeling like I will explode into thousands of shards.  It is starting to feel good again in that regard.

I have been doing some self care now - yoga in the mornings, and I went to the doctor for my annual physical (the poke and grope I like to call it) including the mammogram.  I have gained some weight this past year - 16 pounds - the family number.  Doc says I need to watch what I eat and exercise more.  I told her I don't care about that really because my son was healthy as a horse and in great shape and it didn't matter.  She made some good points about why I should take better care of myself and stay on the planet for longer.  I said maybe Ill get a tattoo on the back of my hand that says "can't fill that hole".  She thought some therapy might be a better plan.  Im still on the fence - but I did lose some weight over the summer working in the yard so there's that.

Got me a Wicked Good New Dirt Pile!  Shoveling does help the weight loss plan!

I went back to the Highland Games.  I enjoyed the time there and didn't cry too much - just a few leaky moments but no full on melt downs.  Creative Cousins Grand Daughters were dancing in the Irish Dancing Exhibition.  They were beautiful and wonderful!

Hubby and I did not make it to the Fourth of July celebrations.  We would always go to the cabin and do fun things as a family and with family friends- float trip, fishing derby complete with prizes, shooting competitions etc.  We wanted to go to spend time with Reedo but just couldn't make our selves go this time.  It was still just too soon.  That first time will have to wait I guess.  Reedo did go and he had a great time.  I am grateful for that.

Two years is a long time when your children are babies (or in the terrible twos - which Rye never had but someone else did- not naming any names).  When your child has died, two years is an eternity that goes by quickly.  Makes no sense at all but it is forever in the blink of an eye.

I was scrolling through Facebook not long ago and came across a post by a young lady who went to school with Rye.  It was a little video that played lovely music and said "When something bad happens you have three choices; you can either let it define you, let it destroy you, or let it strengthen you"!  It was from a page called "Powerful Inspiration" but doesn't give a credit for the saying.  It made me stop and think - once again about how all of this has changed us.

1. You can let it define you - it does become a defining factor in your day to day existence.  We question and overthink everything. We wake in the morning and it begins our day, that empty space that cannot be filled and that we know will be missing all day and every day forever. We do not like change - we do not want to - I was defined as a mother - I still am - but it makes you question how good you are at your job when you cant keep your kid alive.  And now I desperately try to make sure that the one left with us will make it - even though he wont let me wrap him in bubble wrap and keep him in his room.  Doesn't work that way!  It is also very hard not to tell him what he should be doing instead of letting him own his life and make his own choices.  Poor guy!  We want so much for him - the world really, but mostly want him to be healthy and happy.  But we are defined differently now as well in other ways, how we treat other people (with much more grace most of the time), and how we think about things that we "should" be doing.  There is no right way and there is nothing we "should" be doing except breathing.  Keep breathing.  No matter what.  Keep breathing.

2.  You can let it destroy you - it does destroy you.  You have no choice but to be destroyed by the loss of your child.  There is no way around it.  It reminds me of salt poured on a rowan tree.  It tries to kill you and see if you can rise up from the pain and the ashes and the pieces of your broken life and keep going.  We have risen to the challenge for the most part - we now have even  more good days than bad - and more good weeks and months than bad.  We still freak out about things that Reed does that are like things that Rye did - Saying "I'm Fine!" still doesn't work because Rye was always "Fine!"  Even though we expect others to accept "fine" as an answer. It destroys your sense of place in the world and security.  There seems to be no really "safe" place of time.  It wreaks havoc on the mind, body and spirit.  We still have many days where we just "get through" because we can't find meaning in what we are doing or supposed to be doing.  We struggle to find a reason to do some of the things still, and some days we are still badasses for getting out of bed!  We are tired to our bones and you cannot rest when it is your soul that is tired.  Our souls are old and tired now.  Destroyed.

3. You can let it strengthen you -  This one is a tough one - we are stronger than we were before because we have had to be, but sometimes we aren't.  We have learned to talk about hard things - even if it is to say "we will have to talk about this later - I cant do it right now" and we have learned to do hard things like go to the places we always went as a family without one of our own.  Or sometimes, as I mentioned above, we can't yet go to those places.  We have times and places that are what we call "memory bombs" - places that spark so many memories and such a deep feeling of loss, a recognition of our loss, that it is like a bomb has been dropped on us.  It takes our breath away as though we are standing in the middle of a hurricane.  The old neighborhood where Rye first came home, had his first stitches falling off the porch, and where we drove down a few houses to pick him up from his friends house.  He learned to ride a bike there, and swing, and play in the sprinkler.

One of the only pictures we have of Rye holding up a different finder than his middle!  The "Bird" makes us laugh now.

There is a restaurant at the top of the hill near our old house and it too is full of memory bombs.  Uncle Chris's wedding, and family dinners celebrating anything or just Mom needs a night off from the cookery.  Sometimes the memory bombs are in the ice rink when we see some of Rye's friends skating in Alumni games or in Pond Hockey Classic teams.  I think it will forever be that we will look for him, just the way we did and just the way we do with Reed.  If those guys are on the ice Rye should be there too.  People tell us all the time that we are brave and strong - the strongest person they know - Ive heard that a lot recently.  We HAVE TO BE!  There is no highway option that will not destroy the rest of the people left here.

The average marriage lasts 7 years after a loss of a child, no matter how old the child is.  I know why.  Two people living in the same house in this much pain is incredibly difficult.  We are rarely having the same kind of day on the same day.  When I am up he is down and vice versa.  We hear Rye's voice in each others, and see his features, expressions and body language in each other.  We cling to each other for dear life all the while trying to push each other away for fear of hurting more or hurting the other person more.  Heather Spohr wrote a great article about it - you can read it here so I dont have to repeat it!  Every word true.  We arent as far into the loss years as she is so I have no idea how we will do.  We try to give each other space and grace, and we try to keep loving each other even when we are drowning.  Even when we have no idea how to help the other person or how to help any of us feel better.  Sometimes all we can do is be still like a vegetable and let the time and the pain pass, hopefully, until we can communicate again.  Talking is still sometimes excruciating.  We still watch too much tv and we like it!  I still have trouble watching some of his favorites “The Ranch” and “Stranger Things” were ones he encouraged me to watch so we could talk about them, but I wasn’t nearly the tv watcher before he passed.  I wish I had watched them now and had those conversations.  What I would give…

Rye on the left after a Seward fishing trip.  His clothes dirty and his hair askew and he didn't care.

Halloween has always been the favorite holiday here - of course - dress up and candy and no pressure to buy gifts.  He had the best costumes and he rocked them.  He wore this T-Rex costume until it literally fell apart.  It lasted a good 6 months though. A wonderful memory Bomb!

Eventually I will run out of pictures to show you of him that you haven't already seen.  That hurts too.  That there will be no more pictures with us, among us, or just him.

People want to tell us stories about him - but sometimes, as I said before, they tell us stories that are funny but wrong - Rye doing stuff he should not have been doing.  Sometimes these stories also help us remember the good things too.   The beautiful memories.

These things define us, destroy us, and strengthen us. They make us human and they make us angels.  They give us an understanding of other loss parents who aren't able to stand up and fight through the day, they just fall off the end of the earth.  I have wanted to do that on many an occasion these last two years.... fall of the end of the earth.  Get off the bus before the final stop, "Jane, stop this crazy thing!"  I understand now that statement from the U2 song "running to stand still" - you never get to stop running.  Just like Forrest Gump you don't know why you are running, you just have to keep going.  

So we will keep going into year three of this journey - we put our feet on the floor and we march, hopefully with our heads up and our arms open. 

Blessed be.