A Home to Return to

Recently I met at Starbucks with a couple of friends of mine.  One friend in particular was asking me how many more laser treatments I would need for my birthmark.  Responding, I told her something like, "I don't know.  I can stop when I want to stop or I can keep going.  I had them as a child but decided to stop when I was about 11-years-old, and my mom said, 'okay', and let me stop.  When I was about 18-years-old, I told my mom I wanted to continue - and she told me 'okay' again, and I continued."  She said something to the effect of, "You have a good mom who supports you and your decisions."

And that's the thing.  I do have a good mom.  In fact, I have a great mom who supports me and my decisions...and recently, I've realized how I sometimes take her - and my dad - for granted.

Lately I've been reminded more and more about how blessed I am to have my parents in my life.  During the last few weeks, I keep hearing stories of people who don't have such a great support system in their lives.

I have friends who don't want to go home, because if they do, they have to "deal with their family".  I have friends who's parents aren't kind to them with their words, who put their child (my friend) down.  My friends have parents who tell their children that they aren't pretty enough, thin enough, or that they deserve to become sick, they deserve to go through an emotional hard time, etc, etc.

In my ASL (American Sign Language) classes I learn of stories of children who are Deaf who have gone through horrendous medical experiments, therapies, and treatments - even when they requested that they stop.  (This happened/happens when parents are new to having a Deaf child and rely on doctors for advice.  The parents want what is best for their child, but what they are told to do by their doctors doesn't always end up being the best option.)  My teachers, friends, and classmates who are Deaf share what it is like to grow up Deaf in a hearing family...Being left out of conversations, social activities, and being left completely alone.  One friend even shared that his mother left the family when they found out he was deaf.

The other week, I was with a group that included 6 of my friends (two friends are Deaf, the other four are hearing).  We were trying to figure out who all wanted to go to Wal-Mart, so we asked both the hearing and Deaf friends in the group if they wanted to to to the store.  If we all went, we would take two cars, as we all wouldn't fit into one.  If some wanted to stay at the apartment until we got back, we only need to take one vehicle.  One of my Deaf friends responded, "I don't need to go.  I'm use to being alone.  I'm use to my family leaving me out."  Needless to say - we took two cars and made sure that all 6 of us went to the store together that night.

Two weekends ago I also went to see The Deafhood Monologues.  The monologues included many true stories based on experiences and the history of Deaf culture and people, but one story particular stood out to me...and has come to my mind everyday since the performance.

During the monologues, actress Shira Gravelsky presented a (true) story of a woman who went to an adoption agency.  The woman that Shira played met a young girl who loved to draw - regardless of the fact that she was missing fingers.  Shira's character spoke to someone in charge, asking if the little girl was born without her fingers.  To her character's surprise, the little girl's current condition was not to be faulted due to her development in the womb or due to a birth problem.  It was faulted by a recent, tragic, life event.

The little girl was born deaf.  She learned to do some sign language, but then her parents took her to a doctor who dubbed signing and ASL as bad.  The doctor insisted that the parents push oralism and speech therapy on the child - and told them not to let their daughter sign or use ASL.

Her parents tried to get her to go oral, but she continued to sign.  Her dad became infuriated and one day yelled, "Is she signing again??  Is she?  Make her stop!  Make her speak!...Is she signing??  Make her put her hands out!"  So, the child was forced to lay out her hands - and bam!  Her father took a knife and cut off all his child's fingers.  (The child's parents went to jail.)

I listen to stories like this and my heart breaks.  I listen to my friends talk about their strained relationships with their parents who aren't very kind, and I become extremely saddened.  My heart has broken so many times during the last two months as I hear stories in class or through new friends.  All the people I've heard share about their poor home life are such beautiful people, and I can't imagine how their parents don't see the beauty in their own children, or how they don't accept their child as they are.  Hearing about all of these stories and experiences...I am reminded of how lucky and blessed I am to have the parents that I have.

When it comes to my health and to my body, my parents have never forced me to do anything I haven't wanted to do.  Like with my laser treatments.  If I want to have them, they're okay with it.  My mom even drives me to and from - 3 hours each direction.  If I want to stop the treatments, they are okay with that too.  And when I was diagnosed with chronic pain at the age of 12?  My parents made sure that I got the best treatment possible to help relieve as much of the pain as possible.

If I need help with friend situations or need advice of any kind, I know I can trust my parents.  I know they'll think rationally and not attempt to feel bad about any of the situations.  They try to encourage me through their advice.  They're not afraid to be honest with me if I'm in the wrong or need correcting, but they correct me in love and in a tender way in hopes of helping me grow as a person through the situation.

My parents have let me travel the world without them since I was 15-years-old.  They want me to travel, understanding that the world is a big and unique place.  They've encouraged me to spend 6 months in London, and supported me when I wanted to go to Japan to help with the disaster relief efforts after the tsunami hit.  Even though the tsunami and issues Japan was having with the nuclear plants and radiation made my parents a little nervous, they knew I felt like I need to go and they trusted in God to keep me safe.

When I decided to move to Germany for 6 months, my parents let me make my own decision and told me it was a good, once in a life time oppurtunity.  When I decided it was best for me to come home from Germany 4 months early, my parents were once again in full support.  They welcomed me home with wide-open arms and picked me up from the airport.

Whenever my parents see an area I become interested in, they encourage me to persue my new interest.  If I enjoy a new hobby, they support me.  My dad, after all, is the one who surprised me when I was 13-years-old as he bought me my first SLR camera - seeming completely at random at the time.  I remember coming home from school, seeing a Nikon D50 on the table, and asking my dad, "Who's is that??"  He told me, "It's yours."  I don't even remember asking for a camera.  Asking him tonight why he bought the camera for me, he recalled realizing my growing interest in creating videos and thought I needed a better camera to help me out in the new hobby.  Little did he know how much photography would become part of my life!

And in college...Even when I change my major for the 3rd or 4th time, my parents always insist that they want me to major in what I love, what I'm passionate about, and what makes me happy.

My parents have accepted that I am living my life and am trying to live it to the fullest.  They've stuck with me through the good times, and the most trying times.  They even try to give me experiences that they possibly didn't have themselves as a child or young adult.

I just can't imagine having parents who don't accept me for who I am.  I can't imagine having parents who ignore me, or force me to do things I don't want to do, or who make me feel ugly and awful about myself.  I've been blessed with parents who are patient, kind, encouraging, accepting, and who have instilled that beauty runs much deeper than skin deep.  They've taught me to be proud of who I am, even through my differences.

My life could have been extremely different had I been born into a different, less supportive family...And I just want to thank my parents.

Thanks, mom and dad.  Thank you for being great, supportive, encouraging, and loving parents.  Thank you for being parents that I enjoy spending time with.  I hope that if I ever become married, and have children, that I am half as great as you two.

Thank you for giving me a home that I want to return home to at night.

The Travelin' Chick,
Crystal

Process of Healing

Today I went to a baby shower.  The baby shower was for a childhood friend and his wife.  They're having a little girl - and I am excited for their upcoming arrival.

This, however, is the first baby shower I have been to in a long time...And the first since my niece's death.

Many of you who have followed my blog consistently in the last couple of
years have probably noticed that I haven't really blogged about this topic in a while.  It has been over a year since I've brought it up.

Although I haven't written about this chapter of my life story in recent months, it is still a deeply tender area for my heart.  My heart still aches for the loss my family has experienced.  There still hasn't been a day where I haven't thought of my niece, Ashley.  In fact, it took me over a year and a half to visit her grave since the day of her burial.  Even then, I wasn't really sure if I was ready to visit...especially since my first time returning was with family at near Christmas time - and a visit to decorate her grave with jolly, colorful Christmas decorations in a place that holds one of my darkest and most painful memories.  No one wants to visit their niece at Christmas time at their grave.  Holiday decorating is suppose to take place in a warm home, scented with delicious traditions baking in an oven...not at a cold, scentless, gravesite. (And although I have been back once, I'm not sure if I can handle a second visit anytime soon.  I still struggle just by driving down a street, outside the cemetery borders, where she is buried.)

The ache isn't as fresh as it once was, as time has passed, and I have been healing.  But although I've been healing and continue to do so - I'm not sure if the ache will ever go completely away.  I guess only time will tell.

Maybe the death of my niece has slipped your mind - and that's okay.  Unless you're a close good friend of mine, or family, I don't expect you to remember every big life changing moment I have experienced.  With email, texting, Facebook, Twitter - it can be overwhelming to remember who has done what, who lives where, and who has experienced this or that.

For those of you who may be new to my blog - you can read the story of my niece's passing if you click here.    (Just as a warning: I've been told by a few people that it's best to have a tissue box nearby if you choose to click on the link.)

I wasn't really sure how I would emotionally react to attending the first baby shower since the death - especially when it's been nearly two years.

The first portion of the shower was spent with games.  I was fine with that and had a good time.  Then, the beautiful mother-to-be started to open the gifts that would bless her and her upcoming family of three...And that's when it happened.

My mind went to my sister and to Ashley.  My mind went to the pain of, "We never got to experience the joy of throwing them a baby shower."

Then, I remembered the gifts that I bought for Ashley.  Once we found out she was a girl, I started to slowly buy things in excitement of my niece's arrival.  I bought a couple of outfits, a child's Jamba Juice cup, a soft rattle, a rubber ducky, and other items a child could enjoy - or look adorable wearing.

Those items now sit in my hope chest in our guest/craft room...Locked away in a small space, still in the logo-marked bags from the stores they came from, as the receipt's ink fading away as time moves forward.

There are only two items that I no longer have - the rattle and a bib that said, "My heart belongs to my aunt."  My sister and brother-in-law asked me to add the rattle to the casket, and I was honored that they asked.  The bib?  That was my choice of item to leave with her.

Like I mentioned, I still have the receipts for the items I bought.  Although there was no longer a need for the items after her premature passing, I never could return the items.  Two years later - I still don't think I'd be able to make the returns.

My mom and I didn't stay long once the gifts were being opened.  Noticing a look in my mom's eyes and my urge to leave, I knew it was time to silently signal my mom, asking if she was ready to leave...Even though I knew I didn't need to ask.

Again, we're happy that the young couple will soon be having special memories of their own with their baby girl.  Naturally, it's an exciting time for their life!!...And it should be!  I'm glad that we were able to join the shower, even if we had to cut our time there short.  However, the death of my niece, my mom's first grandchild, is still hard for us in certain situations.  We want to celebrate with our and with others when a baby enters our world - but with moderations that our hearts can handle.  (Overtime I am sure we'll be able to handle things better and with more ease...One day at a time, one baby shower at a time.)

For each family member, I know that different things will trigger our emotions differently and at different times.  There will be many times when we'll think, "We never got to..." Or moments of thinking, "Ashley would have been ______ by now."

My mom's moments (as Ashley's grandma) will be different than my moments (as an aunt), and as Ashley's mom, my sister's moments will definitely be different, more intense, and more frequent.  Certain things will trigger emotions in all of us, and our emotions will vary in type and level, as will our trains of thought.  Some events will bring up the ache, while others go unfazed.  For example, sometimes people slip up and call my little cousin, Rayna, my niece.  Or they'll call me her aunt.  As many times as this has happened, I still can't figure out a way to avoid the heart-breaking pain that comes with innocent mistake.  While I am more like an aunt figure to the sweet 2-year-old little girl than a cousin figure, I have a hard time hearing people call me by this title or her under the title as my niece.  For my sister?  I think she likes it when she's called "Aunt Amanda" and doesn't mind if people mix Rayna up as her niece - and that's okay if she does.

Two years later, and I am still amazed to learn that mourning and healing is an ongoing process.

For those of you with grandchildren, nieces, nephews, or children - hug them tight and cherish every moment and memory.  You are blessed to have them in your life as you watch them learn and grow.

The Travelin' Chick,
Crystal

Weak and Broken

Recently I was able to talk to a friend on the phone that I haven't talked to in a while. It was a good conversation that I really enjoyed. It was a joy to catch up on each other's lives. While it had been a while since we last talked, it felt like no time had passed between our last conversation.

One of the first things she told me excitedly was, "Guess what!! I'm going to be an aunt!!!" My first question was, "Do you want a niece or a nephew?" She told me, "I'm cool with whatever...but a niece would be really cool."

I am truly excited for my friend. I remember being in her shoes, finding out about a siblings wonderful news. It's an exciting feeling and one that should be celebrated!

In my excitement for my friends, a thought keeps coming to my mind, "This week I should have become an aunt." I think, "I should be calling her in a few days to say, 'I AM an aunt!'"

My nieces due date has arrived. This upcoming Saturday was the day doctors estimated her arrival into our lives. Little did they know that they were a few months off, and the time of smiles and excitement would instead be a time of sorrow and tears.

This week I am reminded that grieving is a process and not just a phase. During the last month or so I've been mostly doing pretty well. Like I've mentioned many times before, each day is different. Each moment is different. But in comparison to the first few months, I've felt pretty strong and emotionally well. I've been replacing my anger with happiness, my tears with laughter, and my sadness with joy. I've been thankful for the change in emotional scenery thinking, "I am finally getting back to my usual self!"

Then this week came. Before I even found out my friends news I started to struggle. (And let me just add: It's not that she's becoming an aunt that makes me struggle. I am truly joyful about the addition to their amazing family and am SO glad she called to tell me!! What hit me was just the phrase, "I'm going to be an aunt"...) I started to struggle more around Saturday, literally the week before she was due. I struggle when I see my sister get an add for Babies 'R Us, I struggle when I see my sister's heart breaking, when hearing someone crying down the hall, when recently hearing the song they play in the hospital ER every time a baby has been born...I struggle.

I've been fighting my sadness and tears once again. During my grieving process I previously struggled with flashbacks of everything...The text messages of my mom wanting me to call her, the call of the news, the long flight home, holding her for the first and last time, looking into the ground where her casket would forever lay...Memories I wish I could erase have been embedded in the front of my brain. Not only have I been fighting my sadness and tears again, but my flashbacks as well.

Grieving isn't something you can just be done with, like a phase. Grieving is a process. Just like in any process some steps are easier than others. One part of a process can be hard, then easy, then to hard again. Just like my grieving.

This week is a reminder of how weak I still am. It reminds me that while I don't feel shattered like I did in the beginning, I am still so very broken and still healing.

If you know me well enough you know that I am usually not an emotional person. I usually do well suppressing the "negative" emotions that I feel. While I know that's not the healthiest way to handle emotions of that type, it's how I often cope. This week I've been in control of my emotions pretty well from the outside perspective. I've been "myself" as I put up a wall and mask of being completely calm, smiling, and happy. Most who have interacted with me or that will interact with me probably can't tell my current internal battle. On the inside, sorrow and sadness are tugging at my heart. Tears have almost started falling from my eyes many times for no reason at all, except for just the reason of feeling sad.

When you read my blogs describing my grief, please don't feel like you have to walk on egg shells when you talk to me or while you're around me. If you're a friend of mine becoming, and aunt, tell, me! I will celebrate with you. I want to celebrate with you!! While I've never gotten to experience the usual part of being an aunt, I fully remember the part of finding out the news, the excitement, and the shopping in expectation. It's a wonderful joyous time.

This whole grief thing in the aspect of death is new for me. While I've dealt with personal grief due to serious sicknesses in the family, I haven't really dealt much with death in a way that is so close to me personally. You may wonder, "How can I help? What can I do? What shouldn't I do?" As I have been grieving death and sicknesses from this year, here are just a few thoughts that have come to my mind from my experiences and perspective:

• Pray. Let a grieving person know that you are praying. (Just don't forget to actually pray.)


• Facebook comments/messages and e-mails are nice...however, a card, or even a phone call is even better.


• Don't be afraid to call...especially if you've been in a simlar situation...and even if haven't been in a simlar situation. It's okay if you don't know the words to say...There isn't a script for tough situations. Sometimes a grieving person wants to talk to someone but doesn't feel comfortable calling another person to share their burdens (even if they've been told to call anytime). And even if they don't open up share their burdens, it feels nice knowing that someone has called to check on them as it is an encouragement.


• When you're talking to a person who's family has been going through a hard time and a storm, don't just ask, "How is ____ (Fill in the blank) doing? And how about ______??" Remember to ask, "How are YOU doing?" If someone is the daughter of a sick father, or the aunt of a a child that now spends her time in Heaven, she is also affected - even if she isn't the parent of the child or the spouse of the sick. While this person may not mind updating you, this person is not just a reporter for their family. She (or he) too have also been going through the storm and more than likely been struggling as well, needing and wanting a pair of willing and listening ears.

Grieving is a process. It's a process where I learn and experience new feelings, thoughts, and emotions. My family has already been told many times, "You're going to be grieving the loss of Ashley for all of your life, especially with milestones and holidays. You will always love and miss her. However, with each year that passes the pain just gets more bearable and you learn to cope."

Often I've prayed, "Lord, break my heart with what breaks Yours." This year I've truly been learning what breaks His heart. It breaks his heart to see His creation hurting, for His people to lose those that they love, and to see us struggling. While going through these experiences hurt, I know that I have changed in some ways. I'm not sure exactly how yet, but I know that God has given me a tender heart in areas where while it was tender, it wasn't nearly as tender as it is now. Going through certain experiences I can now relate to many who are going through similar situations...While I am still hurting, I will be able to reach out to those that I before wouldn't be able to just because of my innocence in regards to the situations. God has given me a bigger vision for new passions I wouldn't have without my experiences.
My vision has expanded, new passions have grown, interests have increased, and my heart has been broken and in turn has made me more tender. Grieving is a process...and with this process I am growing as a person and trying to learn what God can show me through this experience.

I am weak and broken...But I am not letting this pain go to waste.

The Travelin' Chick,
Crystal

Candle Light

Today is October 15th. Today, the 15th of October, is National pregnancy and infant loss remembrance and awareness day. It's saddening to me that there has to be such a tragic loss that creates a remembrance day like today. It truly is heart breaking.

Tonight Angel Babies had a candle light service in memory of all the children that have already gone to heaven. Until tonight I hadn't ever been to a candle light service. There's never been any reason to go to one. One year ago I never thought I'd be attending such an event.

When arriving to the park where it was being held there was a $5 entry fee. Knowing what we were going for, it broke my heart. Instead of spending $5 on onesies, pacifiers, or cute little toys (...or if you're an amazing bargain hunter like my grandma - two or three baby outfits!), for a baby shower or random gifts from excitement, we were spending the $5 to go to an event to remember my niece...my niece that never even took her first breath. For me, this was the roughest moment of the evening.

There were a lot of people at the park for the event. I honestly wasn't expecting to see so many people there. If I could guess at an amount of people, there may have been up to 200...Maybe more, maybe a little less.

The sight was surprising. People "go all out" for this event. Many took balloons. Even more than that, people had t-shirts made with names of their babies and pictures of them as well. Some even created pins to wear on the shirts in memory of their child.

There were people there who have lost one child. Some who have lost two, three, or even four. Some of the children were lost as miscarriages, stillborns, or even after 8 full months filled with life, personality, and growth.

During the ceremony there were prayers prayed, poems read, and songs performed. In memory of each child their names were read off during a ceremony. As the child's name was read off, their parents turned their candle on (yes, they turned them on...They were electric candles.). Those who took balloons released them at the same time.

Hearing her named said out loud by a strangers lips was an odd thing. We often talk about her in our own home and family, but I don't recall ever hearing someone with different blood say her name out loud.

Looking around tonight I saw many people with candles in their hands representing their children who are now in Heaven...The children who we will all one day meet and see again. While this is a discouraging sight, there was also encouragement. While in one hand held a candle...In many people's other hand, they held a stroller, car seat, or infant. They held the hand of their toddlers, or their pregnant swollen bellies.

It's an encouragement for me personally because while my family is going through the loss, it's a reminder that while things are hard now, there will be a light at the end of the tunnel. While we will always miss Ashley while always aching and longing to hold her, the pain will one day get more bearable. (Although I do realize some days will hurt more then others...as that's how it is now.) It's also a reminder that while our family has experienced so much sorrow, pain, heartache, tears, and burdens, there are more joyous days to come filled with good surprises, smiles, tears of joy, and big blessings. (Not to say that there aren't any blessings, surprises, or smiles now...There are many blessings in everyday of life. Sometimes it just feels smothering when it rains and pours trial after trial, and we as humans sometimes forget to look at what is going right in life.)

If you find my blog to be repetitive of the issue of my niece's death, I am sorry. Just bear with me for a while for this is a process for me as well as a huge part of my life. It's a process to mourn more days then others, to think of her, to experience the milestones. While I absolutely love (which truly is an understatement!) that you are reading my blog, it's kind of like what a good friend told me when I started to write on this online journal. "Your blog isn't really for other people. It's for you." My blog is for me to post about life as it is. ("Life as it is"....Maybe that should have been the blog name instead??) It's meant for me to reflect on the day, week, or month that I have had. To be able to look back at old entries and say, "I remember when God brought me out of that situation." Or, "I can see how God has been working through this experience now that some time has passed." Or, simply just to remember how I felt. And like I've mentioned before, I can only pray that out of my experiences - the good and the bad - that others will find certain entries relatable and help them realize that they aren't alone in feelings and emotions.

Tonight if you were to drive by my house, you would see a candle light coming from the kitchen window. It's the light representing our love for my niece, forever burning inside our hearts. It's the light that says, "We will never forget her."

Thank you for reading.

The Travelin' Chick,

Crystal