Barbershops & Breakdowns

 As we sat here preparing for Hurricane Milton, I received an automated message from a Barber in the area. Early on, I remember trying to find a new barber for the boys. How would I be able to take them back to the man who had cut Patrick's hair? It was right across the street from the hospital that issued me the most devastating blow of my life.  So, I had to find a new one. 

My first interaction with a barber was a few days after losing Patrick. I couldn't and hadn't' absorbed what was happening, but I knew my kids needed to look good. I remembered a company that offered mobile cuts, and I called him before the funeral, and he pulled right up in front of my house.  He had a full shop inside of a gutted FedEx truck. It was quite impressive. But after all the hoopla, after all the families had gone home...I faced the daunting task of taking the boys to a new barber. It was horrible.

What I didn't know, was that the new barber was in the mall. The mall is probably one of the top 5 most triggery places in this city. I HATE the mall.  Incredibly TOO many memories there; it was our hangout spot as a whole family. We often went as Patrick loved shopping for the kids, getting pretzels and haircuts. Back to the new barber. He was slow, he didn't know my kids, and I thought I would die.  But Christian had been booked to shoot a spot for ABC Mouse, and I could no longer put it off. Although I made two appointments for both boys, I had to leave after it took over an hour for one cut.  The rest of that day was a blur. 

After that experience, I knew I had a decision to make. Christian had another shoot and needed his hair cut badly. I asked if he was okay going back to Daddy's barber, and he said yes. We walked in, and Mr. Mike looked like he wanted to cry, but I watched him excitedly greet my son. To this day, I know he has no idea how much that meant to me.  He gently handled my husband. Patrick always came home so pumped after being at the barber. He loved Mike. He loved the conversations, and his heart for his family. Patrick was always a champion of people. As our good friend and Pastor Melody always says, "Patrick left us better than he found us."

So now, the boys go solo or my Brother -in-law takes them for me. It's the place where Benji got his first big boy haircut.  I can imagine how Mike must feel, watching them sit in his chair, month after month, year after year, growing into young men without Patrick.  This loss is so unfair. It's not just one person. It's not just one experience. It's a string of events and moments that he won't be here for. And this makes NO sense. It never will.

Our Finale Turned Four: The End of an Era

Benjamin started it off. Even at five years old, his heart is tender for his siblings and their grief.  He woke up yesterday morning, and he began to cry. "I don't want the baby to grow up, Mommy." It was so sweet, but also very sad.  That's how we all feel. This is the last Wheeler Baby. The Finale. Up until today, I had never had a four year old without another toddler in tow.  This is an end of an era, and I had no idea it was coming.  Many people were taken aback when they learned how many children we were parenting, but they soon fell in love with them all and understood the gift. 

These kids are so easy to love.  It's  painful to know that there is an ache that I cannot soothe for them. They miss and need their Dad.  Watching them grow, mature and develop without Patrick here feels...I can't quite explain it. What was meant to be the gift of a full quiver, now feels like a giant, heavy cross to bear. How can I keep them healed, whole, and happy by myself? This feels more like a punishment than  a privilege. 

I would cry a billion tears for Patrick, and that seems like it would be easier than trying to solo parent in his shadow.  I love these children. He loved these children. They are indeed the very best of Patrick and I.  But today a chapter ended, and I have no idea what the next one holds. Our last baby. The last of me and Patrick has turned four.  The finale is four. 

The Only Reason to Cry

 I’ve had to hold myself together a lot when these children have uttered heartbreaking realities of their loss. Recently, this one from my oldest really took me aback. She was casually explaining an experience  that she'd had that night in worship, In telling me  the story, she started to talk about how powerful the song was, and how the worship leader began to cry during the song. And very nonchalantly, she quipped, "I remember when crying in worship was the only time I had to cry. It felt like a dagger. She’s a child. One of the best kids that I know. Patrick and I cultivated an environment of worship in our home and it showed in our children . Even in lament,  they worship and cry out for help. A worship leader was crying from an emotional evoked by powerful song.  But my daughter making the link between that type of reverent cry, and the cry of incomprehensible heartache really almost broke me. For those people who can’t help but to offer platitudess when we have lost the thirty-year old rock of our family, I ask that you remember this moment. Remember that this child hasn’t lived long enough to have done anything to deserve this pain. None of us have. If you want to support a grieving family, then please sit with them in their lament.

Trash Bags

 The whirlwind surrounding  the week that we lost Patrick continues to pop up in my head in fragments.  Like the worst highlight reel; without warning. But when I think back on it, I was like a zombie-robot. Just going. Operating on adrenaline and disbelief. I remember my family scurrying around trying to stock me up with things, but the look of shock and sadness in their eyes I can never forget.   At one point, as I was preparing the kids for an activity, I looked over and my best friend was doubled over.  She had been trying so  hard to be strong for me, but I think it hit her. I didn't even shed a tear, I just asked "you alright?" and kept moving.  I was numb and in manager mode.  

After everyone had left to go home and return to their normal lives, I was grateful to be stocked with all of the things.  About six months later, I pulled out the last of the trash bags and it hit me. I was out of trash bags. I had no more cushion. I had to go back to getting things on my own. Patrick was really not here.  And although one would think that my overflowing tears would be in sadness in response to that devastating realization, the tears were those of gratitude.

Someone loved me enough, to make sure I didn't run out of trash bags. TRASH bags. It wasn't anything fancy or super expensive, it was just the thought that someone looked ahead and knew I may not be in a headspace to remember to buy them.  Someone wanted to make this awfully hard life a little  easier for me. I felt loved and seen during the worst time in my life.  I will never forget that.

It's been almost two years....

    It’s been almost two years, and Patrick still has not come home. I type that at the risk of sounding crazy, but to be honest I’m not crazy. This situation is crazy. Having 14 kids' birthdays without Patrick is crazy. Solo parenting seven grieving children all while I am trying to navigate what just happened to my life… That’s crazy. Still being able to provide emotional support, do outreach, and create a foundation for the bereaved while grieving...that's crazy.

    In the first few weeks of losing Patrick, someone who was probably well-meaning yet ill-informed, said to me, "God is going to use this." That infuriated me on 100 different levels! As someone who has been used the majority of my life by God, this didn't seem like the logical next move. Over years ago, God burst into my "independent woman" plans, united me with Patrick, and allowed us to create a small army of disciples.  I think I can safely say that the death of Patrick wasn't necessary in order for God to use us. We were being used just fine and frequently. The very same God that created something from dust, with His very words... The God that can grow an entire human in the womb of a mother for nine months... That kind of creative God did not have to take my husband and these kids' father in order for us to be used. But I digress. 

    During this time, I have seen exactly how much it takes to keep it moving. I watch my children continuously make the choice to wake up each morning and stare the day in the face. I look on as they take one step toward the light; onne step toward peace and joy, in the midst of extreme confusion.  I have seen their talents and personalities develop. I have seen a resilience in them that I didn’t think was possible. I have seen the love and guidance of their earthly father show up in them in a myriad of ways. Yet I’ve also heard screams from their little bodies that I could’ve gone my whole life without hearing. I’ve seen them be disappointed at people who truly should’ve showed up for us. I have seen the toiling of their little minds as they process never seeing Daddy again. I’ve seen them break into a full-blown panic at the slightest scare. This kind of out- of- order loss makes everything that you are sure of feel like quicksand.  Amazingly, I’ve seen my children be kept by God in a way that can only be the result of His sovereignty. I’ve heard joy in their hearts as they sing songs of praise. I’ve heard the pain in their lyrics as they screamed the words to songs that no longer seem like they fit life as we know it.  I’ve witnessed true joy as they experience a new adventure.  

    In the past two years, we've learned exactly what it feels like to be "in the margins" even more than we did before. And the lack of support and compassion for grieving families has been one of the saddest realities on this road. Wearily, we press on and continue to be who God has made us. If you are new to our blog, we thank you for taking the time to read this. We really want to shed light on how absolutely awful the moment-to-moment grief impacts us. It’s been two years, but it didn’t get better. Our village has been absolutely everything!  It takes so many mental and physical resources to keep it moving. So much compassion and flexibility are required to continue to raise these children in the light of the Lord: To keep them pressing on in purpose.  So, if you have been one of the people that we knew would be there for us, we thank you and appreciate you for doubling down and showing your love for Patrick by loving his family.  But, if you happen to be one of those that walked away in our darkest time, I respectfully ask that you keep walking. There were a bunch of little losses that follow Patrick’s passing, and although they were not as substantial, it still stung. We still noticed. Alas, God provides.

Fall Family Update

 The fall season has been hard and mean.  So, I’m thankful for your continued prayers and support.  It all started with our move from Brandon to Valrico in the beginning of August.  Although it’s only about a 12-minute drive between the houses, we were leaving the last place where our family was whole. I must be fully honest, moving as a solo mom of seven kids and making all those decisions myself, even picking up the U-Haul alone -almost broke me.  However, the move was necessary, and downsizing has been very helpful. Not waking up in the “house that I didn’t bring Patrick home to”, provided a little more breathing room in the suffocating grief. We are still close enough to all our extracurriculars, church, friends, family, therapists, etc.

In addition to adjusting to the new place, August was full of trigger days.  Our 18^th wedding anniversary, Elijah’s birthday being two of the hardest.  We took a while to adjust to our new schedule was a wild ride initially.  I feel like I spent much of my time in the car because we still have co-op homeschool classes, therapy, gymnastics/karate, church and outreach.  Joy and Benjamin started school for the first time at an awesome little Lutheran school and even though there are some beautiful additions, the demands of their schedule threw off our usual easygoing pace of life. We also had an opportunity to do something new, and we visited a local “smash room” where the oldest kids were outfitted in safety gear and allowed to smash and break things in a designated room.  The smaller kids and I got to crank up music and splatter and throw paint in the adjoining glow in the dark room. I don’t think that people understand how much pinned up anger and anguish we all have inside of us.  So to be given this safe outlet was very necessary, after a long sorrowful summer without their Dad.  Overall, we made it through the month with some joy amidst the pain and for that we are always grateful.

September was a whole ‘nother beast. My goodness! Our schedules were in full speed, we were still trying to get a rhythm. Thankfully we had a quick getaway for Elijah’s birthday, and I believe it gave us all a boost. Kendall had her first interview, where she was chosen to be an outreach volunteer for the Pregnancy Center in Plant City, as she is passionate about Pro-life causes.  She had no idea, that this was my passion as well and I worked at a Pregnancy crises center in college all the way up until my pregnancy with her.  The babies started gymnastics, and it was Amira’s very first extracurricular activity and after a few tears, she enjoyed her class. Separation anxiety has been huge this month for many of the kids. 

And here we are in October. I feel offended that the year is almost over, and Patrick is not here. Thankfully, we started off the month with a bang with a visit from his little sister Krislyn, her husband (who we hooked her up with), and their two kids. Seeing my niece and nephew have cousin time with my kids was beautiful. However, just still unbelievable that their proud Uncle Pat wasn’t with us.  We spent time on the beach, they came to our home, we took them to our favorite parks and out for ice cream.  It was a true blessing to love on them and be loved.

Then we were blessed with tickets to see Elevation Worship in the VIP seats at the Amalie Arena, the four oldest kids went with close friends of ours and they had a blast.  My sister and brother-in-law took the little ones to Chuck E. Cheese so I could have a couple hours to myself. On top of it all, we hit another milestone where Kendall went to her FIRST DANCE! The Homeschool Homecoming of 2023 was a great experience for her, and we had friends and family show up to see her off. She looked beautiful and handled herself like the beautiful young lady she’s growing into. She said she danced for hours.

 The next major move this month was the starting of our Peer Grief Support Group, Hand in Hand.  The kids helped me to create the structure, choose volunteers, pick curriculum and activities, and even went to tour the church with me.  We had our first official meeting on Tuesday 10/10, which also marked the 22^nd month since we lost Patrick. It was truly an honor to do something new and beautiful on that day.  We built something new on this side of our loss, and that means so much for our grief journey. Our families and volunteers showed up early and eager to walk this road together. 

The next big thing is a celebration we are having this Sunday 10/15 that will be a combination of celebrating four years in ministry and New Life Village’s “Fishers of Men” award, given in Patrick’s honor.  I intentionally planned this on the 15^th, because the 16^th is Benji’s 5^th birthday, and the 17^th would have been Patrick’s 41^st birthday. So, trying to do life-giving things that would honor God and Patrick is how we are getting through this.  We are so grateful for your prayers and ask that you will keep them coming, they make a difference.  I usually update our Instagram at least once a day, if you would follow us @servingwith7 that would be great.  Our Peer Support Group is on Instagram as well @hand_in_hand_brandon

Trigger Date Clusters *Special Prayer Requests*

 

As you can see, we’re in Trigger Cluster #2 of this year. No breaks. All days leading up to and between each holiday or special date seem agonizing 😭. So many babies, so many birthdays, so many tears. It’s not only that the kids long for their father to be here. But the siblings…they feel it. And we all feel helpless because no amount of fun can make up for the gaping hole. The genuine joy and excitement from their Dad on their birthdays is something that simply cannot be replicated. Dates are hard. The best thing that I have found, is to create opportunities to look forward to on the special days. Get out of the house! That takes the edge off. It’s possible that in the future these days will feel less dreadful…that’s what I hear. But idk. Only God knows.