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. 

Still Can't Believe it: 1 Year Update

 "Alright, we did it. We got through it. We get the point. Patrick can come home anytime now."

    It still feels like a cruel prank. This can't be permanent. The world needs light. Patrick was the God-given light for so many.  So this just doesn't feel right. Our life verse, as a couple and as a family is Romans 8:28. I know that all things work together for the good of those who love the Lord and who are called according to His purpose. We are called, we are purposed, God is the definition of good: but this SUCKS. 

    The week leading up to the anniversary date, the schedules were maxed out! We volunteered, had friend therapy, games/practices, and spent time just existing and loving one another. New traditions, old ones- all comingled as we approached the one year mark that seemed to come rather too quickly.  As a self-proclaimed nerd, I've read many books, blogs and articles about grief and the majority of them focus on the first anniversary of the loss.  But to me, it seems like it was yesterday. Time, for me, has stood still. Birthdays and holidays have come and gone, but I'm still standing there in that hospital parking garage saying to myself..."So, no more adventures?"

    The day came and went without much fanfare and with minimal meltdowns.  Much of this was due prayers and the thoughtfulness of our community. The phone rang out with texts, emails, messages and calls of shared sadness and solidarity. Gifts started to arrive and hugs were delivered as well.  The counselors were on standby; they were so gracious to check in.  But the entire week leading up to it...we were a wreck! People see me managing the daily demands of seven kids and their schedules and think,  "Wow, that's so much! I don't know how you do it." But behind the scenes, being counselor mom and solo parent; discerning what foreign behavior is grief or regular ol' testing of the wills is where the full blown exhaustion comes in.  In those moments, I feel the most anguish. I feel the most hopeless as I continually function without the presence  the co-creator of this beautiful chaos by my side.  That's when I truly ponder how this is possible. I yell out to God , "Really Bro? Is this really what you have for me?" But, instantly fear sets in and I yell back, "Not that I'm complaining, please don't take my children."

This is raw.

This is real.

This is ugly.

This is brutal.

This is messy. 

But the best way I can describe our journey as we walk through the valley with others right now is: beautifully, tragically, therapeutic. 

                                                 Pat and His Baby Momma x 7 (2019)

Prayers For My Babies

For some reason on today and yesterday, words and yearnings for my kids began to flow.  Although, I 'm still not praying much more than, "Thank you for salvation, thank you for my support system, thank you for provision." But my heart started to overflow, and I was able to put words to my hopes and fears for my children.  I had a short list of prayer warriors whom I had spoken with recently and I sent the requests to them.  So today, on this day....8 months since my world was rocked to the core, I'm sharing these specific requests. I'm hoping that this will give you all insight and guidance on how to continue to petition God on our behalf. You are so appreciated.

Benjamin

That he would continue to feel loved and accepted and that the anger will subside.  That God will soothe him and that we may support him in his healing. Also, that he would continue to be a light, a comforter, and a calming force.

Avielle

That God will put a hedge of protection around her and her gifting. That she will always feel her father near, and that she will not give in to the temptation and just give up. That she will believe in the goodness of the Lord. That God would place good people alongside her so that she will never feel alone or isolated in her calling. That she will find and rest in her true identity in Him, alone.

Elijah

That he would not quit. That he would tap into the calling and gifting that God has given him.  That he will press through and press on in honor of how Patrick raised him. That he would have things in life to look forward to and be comforted by the Most High God in a unique, almost smothering way! That he would believe in the goodness of the Lord again and wouldn’t be sidelined by fear of disappointment. That he will always feel close to Jesus and Patrick.

Christian

That God will draw him closer than ever before. That he would walk in his calling confidently and boldly. That he will understand that no amount of hard work or perfection will change God ‘s plan for his life, or God’s sovereignty. That he will learn to process through his grief in healthy ways and know that he is uniquely created, purposed, an amazing for whose he is. That God would put people in our lives to be role models for him and that he will know without a shadow of a doubt that he bears Patrick’s image in many ways. That he never feels alone.

     Kendall

That Christ would comfort her and remind her who she is in Him. That she  will have motivation to use her many gifts and talents to be a blessing to this world. That she will connect hard work and determination to good stewardship. That she will never lose the ability to wake up every morning expecting to see the goodness of the Lord in that day: walking in the light of the Lord and the legacy of her Dad. 

Joy

Joy is uber angry and confused.  Pray that God would do a thing and that she would hope again. That she would accept good things without fear of them being snatched away. And that God will just take her to new heights in healing and living in her Dad’s legacy. He’s the ONLY one who can. 

Amira 

That Patrick’s imprint along with the Holy spirit will always make sure that she feels “fathered." That He would soothe her in a supernatural way and keep all doubts, fears, and attacks of inadequacy out of her head. That she will continue to be a strong leader and lover of people. 

The Accident-Throwback Storytime *with update*

*This is the original text I sent in January of 2022, the accident took place on 12/21/2021*

One month ago today, a few days after the memorial services… Benjamin and I were hit head on in the van. He needed a moment away from the house and I took him about a mile and a half up the road to a dollar tree. A 16-year-old was trying to show Boat (per onlookers) and zoomed out of a side parking lot, sped up and hit us as we were pulling ahead from a full stop at the stop sign. Both airbags deployed and burst. Ben and I were ok, but I didn’t even share this because I was numb. God kept us, but it was truly just…unreal. It was a blur, it was dark, and I didn't even know what the guy looked like.  Patrons from the local restaurants came running out screaming at the guy and taking pictures. Then an elderly grandmother came over, laid hands on Benjamin and I, and prayed over us in Jesus's name.   Benji was so brave he didn’t even cry.  He may have also just been overwhelmed with shock.  Two of the kindest cops came to the scene and talked to me and encouraged me. They stated that they normally did not do crash sites but when they heard over the radio about our circumstance (our recent loss) they wanted to come and check on us. The next morning, I was gearing up for what I thought may be a fight with the insurance company. But when I called in, the representative interrupted me stating that the father who owned the car had already called Geico and claimed fault for the accident. We just got our van back today, lots of memories. Lots of sadness…and divine comfort. Thanks for checking on us & praying.

**Update from July 2022**

A car wash recently opened up near our home.  They have the best vacuums and so we stop there often.  A few weeks ago, as I was headed into the tunnel, one of the workers stopped and asked if I had been in an accident.  I replied that I hadn't since it had been a while ago and I had many other things on my mind.  He said, "Oh okay because I was in an accident a while back and this van looks familiar." When he said that, I asked if he was in an accident in the plaza up the street.  He confirmed and I told him, "Yes, you hit me and my baby."  He replied, "Ma'am I've felt so bad about that this whole time. I'm really sorry for what I did." In that moment, I was able to forgive him and tell him to have a blessed day.  Of all of the things going through my head and heart during that moment, I remember just being humbled and grateful to be a part of this young man's story.  So many people don't get a chance to right a wrong. The fact that he "found me" and I was able to give him my forgiveness was.... I won't forget that."

Mommy & Benji 2020

Hail! Mary! - Storytime

 A few months ago, I got to a place where I was reliving every moment of Patrick's six days in the hospital.  Although I have no medical experience, I was grateful to have my best friend, a respiratory therapist, nearby to help me work through it.  One night, I got that feeling, "Did they do everything? Did they do their best to save Patrick?"  I'm sure this is common, but I remember feeling God's grace in that moment.  Looking back, I know it was Him keeping those thoughts at bay. Because honestly, regardless... here we are and I'm sure those questions at that time could have driven me into a dark, dark place making daily functionality impossible.  Nevertheless, I had to confront them and work through it. I sent my best friend a video message babbling, it was late.  I remember asking, "At the hospital, when you lose someone, is there a meeting? How does everyone know that they did everything they could have to save the person?" I did not get an answer back that night.  

The next morning, a close friend had come over to do some handyman work for us. It was quite a busy day and I was running! It started out rocky because Elijah was struggling and, in his grief, he was being snappy.  We both raised our voices, and I declared a full time out. After I cooled off, I came back and told him that I understood how he was feeling and asked if there was anything he wanted to ask me.  He blurted out, "Yeah, Mom what happened? On that day, what happened?" I told him that I was glad he asked and that I waiting for the right time to tell him.  I assured him that I was an open book and when he felt his heart could take it, I'd share whatever I could.  I began telling him about the day and about one part in particular. 

 "When I walked into the hospital that morning, one of the head nurses, Mary, hugged me.  She didn't strike me as the affectionate type but since we had spent several days together, I figured I was growing on her.  But she didn't let go, she hugged me tightly and that sent off an alarm.  Even then I remember thinking "You don't have to hold me that tight lady, he's going to be fine."

After I told Elijah the details as best as I could, he seemed to feel a little lighter. We all got in the car to drop him off to PE at the local school for his forty-five-minute class.  For some reason I asked the kids, "Do you want to go to the park on Parsons?" We never go to the park on Parsons, especially when Elijah is at PE.  The park is right near the hospital. It's where we dropped Patrick off for the last time.  To my surprise they agreed to go, so I started up the road.  I know this town like the back of my hand, after being in the area for over a decade. But oddly on this day, I got turned around. I realized I wasn't on the right street. So, after making a few turns, I ended up on Parsons. For the first time, I felt super anxious driving past the hospital. As I got past it, I saw a little lady in full scrubs walking along the lake between the hospital parking garage and the playground. It was Nurse Mary; I would recognize her anywhere.

When I saw her my face flooded with tears.  I immediately pulled over in a dirt parking lot across from where she was walking. The kids were slightly alarmed trying to figure out what I had seen and why I was frantically pulling over.  I jumped out of the van, clad in Pat's Preservation Church t-shirt and oversized flip flops, and ran over to her waving my arms. I now realize how maniacal I may have appeared, but I couldn't stop myself. As I ran toward her yelling "Mary, Mary", she stopped, looked around and pulled up her mask.  I was across the street, running to her full speed.  She was an elderly woman, so I'm sure all kinds of things ran through her head, but she braced herself as she realized that she had technically no other option.  

When I got to her, I told her that I was Patrick Wheeler's wife and that I wanted to thank her for taking good care of my Baby. She truly was an excellent nurse; she gave me all of the reports and she cared for him in an "overprotective grandma" sort of way.  Mary replied in a quivering voice, "We loved him, and we love you. Keep taking good care of those babies." Then, I got the answer to the question that God heard me ask the night before. "Mary, but did y'all do everything? Did you do everything you could for him, are you sure?", I asked desperately. She replied "Baby, we did. We absolutely did."

Pat N' Keisha (Spring 2017)

Keep The Flowers Comin'

On our first Valentine's Day as a married couple, I remember seeing the florist walk through the parking lot with two beautiful bouquets of red roses. I thought possibly, he had a few deliveries to make. Nope. Patrick sent me two dozen roses for the special occasion. When I called to thank him, I asked "Why two, babe?" He said, "because everyone is going to get at least one, but you're extra special and I want that to be known." He was a hopeless romantic, me...not so much. But it was truly enchanting to see his love for me on display, constantly.  For the rest of our marriage, I would continue to be showered with roses not only on holidays, but on those "just because I went to Sam's Club" occasions as well.

The next day after I shared of Patrick's promotion to heaven, the flowers began pouring in. My cousin RiShard sent the first beautiful delivery. Every day leading up to the services, flowers were delivered from near and far.  For Christmas, we received flowers. My birthday, New Year's Eve, more flowers. Valentine's Day/Avielle's birthday, still more blossoming flowers.  A couple of weeks ago, I saw some gorgeous tulips in the supermarket and just had to grab them.  For Joy's Birthday, more fresh, fragrant flowers.

This past struggly Saturday, we hurried and got dressed to head to my sister's for brunch. On our way, I saw a huge sign that read "Plant Sale." I felt the most genuine, yet foreign, smile spread across my face.  Seeing those vivid, green, living things made my heart happy. The kids saw my reaction and encouraged me to stop and shop, and I did. 

A family friend caught up with me and asked, "What do you need? I wanted to send you flowers but is that cliche?" I replied, "Send the flowers, please." Any living, vibrant, fragrant delivery spurred by the thoughtfulness of others during this time of seemingly unrelenting shock and sadness is welcome. And Perfect. 

Karaoke

 I knew I needed to post something. But I couldn't get deep and heavy as it's been a lot going on. Nothing that I feel ready to share just yet. So, I'm choosing the "story route". 

I pulled up my google photos to search for pics of Joy as her birthday is coming up on Good Friday.  As I scrolled to Jan 1,2021, there were a few videos of Patrick with a mic in his hand. I remembered how we did family karaoke on New Year's Day, as part two of my birthday celebration which was New Year's Eve. I remember it vividly, but it seems so long ago.  He and the kids had a blast singing and debating which Disney song was best.

Earlier this week, I was telling the kids about the concert that Patrick gave me in our old living room.  Thanks to our good friend George, Patrick had a mic, a stand, a speaker and a full list of Blackstreet, Tyrese, and Boys II Men tunes on a playlist.  He put the kids to bed, came downstairs dressed up, and gave me a full on concert. I loved every minute of it. I laughed and sang along, as the kids peered over the banister to see what was going. 

Every single part of our lives together was a song.

Joy's Dance Party

 Joy came to me with a big smile on her face, carrying a small keyboard given to us by a friend.  "This song makes me think of Daddy. He would always pretend like he was playing it. Daddy was so funny. " She pressed the button and started to dance. That's it. That's the post. That's the praise report. Y'all keep praying, God hears. 

It Was Just Gettin' Good!

One of the things that I never knew I would be so grateful for, was the fact that our kids feel free to speak openly about all of the things.  Even for my sons, it doesn't take much prodding before they realize that I am a safe person for them to trust with their most intimate thoughts, fears, and struggles. Elijah and I have always had a unique relationship. He was the transition child in many ways. Several life changes transpired when I became pregnant and gave birth to him. One of those changes was the start of my journey as a Stay at Home Mom.  This would eventually morph into a few other roles including master's student mom, work from home mom, homeschool mom , boss mom , etc.  

One day last week, I'm not sure what sparked the conversation, but Elijah and I were sitting down reminiscing about how 2021 came for the jugular and was an unexpectedly crazy year.  We had all survived 2020, which was a complete miracle in itself . With the face coverings, lockdowns, and live streaming and the birth of our beautiful seventh baby,  it was a year of historic proportions.

I remember posting on Facebook something to the effect of:

               "2021, I need you to come in, sit down, shut up, and don't touch nothin!" 

I believe we were all cruising into the year with some hope that normalcy would return.   The year started out for us with our first family pet, Ali the turtle.  Elijah wanted it so badly, and although Patrick and I joked about the kids misplacing the turtle somewhere in the house and waking in a panic; he gave in.  A couple months later, Patrick wanted to up the ante and get a dog, so we got a cute little pit puppy named "Blue". The kids lost it, they were so excited, but of course I couldn't believe that I had another "kid" to look after.  Patrick understood and did his best to teach the kids to be responsible and take care of Blue.  In addition, we had decided to get our house ready to take advantage of the seller's market.  We had built the house from the ground up, and our kids had called it home for almost seven years.  We didn't realize at the time how this move would affect us all, emotionally.  

As Elijah put it, "we had just survived a lot of changes, started to settle down, and even bought our Christmas tree.  And then WHAM!" He was right. There was no way that this was on our radar at all. I can't even explain it. What we thought would be a normal Saturday of shopping for and ministering to our neighbors in the mobile home park, turned into something beyond our imagination.  Christmas was his favorite holiday.  I was so grateful that we had been able to follow our tradition of picking a tree together and decorating it with the kids while drinking hot cocoa. 

                                                                                                                                                               

This entire thing feels like a gut punch, or in Elijah's words "it feels like an airplane landed on me."

The Unanswerable Question: "How y'all doing?"

Not a single day goes by without at least half a dozen people checking on us.  My personality thrives on finding solutions and having answers.  But when asked this simple yet unanswerable question, I freeze.  One answer that I cannot foresee giving is, "We're fine."  

So, I've compiled a few raw answers I've given to friends who checked on us this past week:"

70% of the time, we're okay. Functioning, sharing stories and laughs, looking at pictures and embracing all the things that our family stands for.  That's due to the prayers of our people, petitioning God for his grace and supernatural comfort.  But that 30%, is a "dark thirty." I can't deny God's grace.

This week started some sleep struggles that we haven't had before. It's been a busy week and I'm worn out.

• Sunday-GriefShare 
• Monday-Bible yoga
• Tuesday-Piano, PE
• *Several Breakdowns*
• Wed-PE ,  Family Grief activities 
• Thurs-Ben & Joy Play Therapy, Kids Grief Group
• Fri-My Therapy , Martial Arts, YMCA

 "God took my husband away from me. My partner and best friend.  I prayed and said, "God, Patrick and I need relief help us to get from under all our obligations so we can regroup and reorganize and continue to serve you." And He answered with this.  I cried out for help and this was His answer. I am heartbroken.  I have some beautiful stories of His comfort I can't ignore that. But I'm so so so upset that I even need His comfort in this way.  I feel punished. And although I know that's not God's nature, it sure feels like it.  So either God is going to give me strength, clarity and guidance to raise these kids alone or rapture is coming.  At this point, I don't feel ready for either. 

"It's been a week.  But in good news the counselor that I saw in December, I saw her again and it was the first time that I felt refreshed."

*Pictured below, the start of our trail mix of feelings-family activity*

I'm sorry, but I can't commit

One of the things that I loved most about my relationship with Patrick, was that we willingly CHOSE to do life together.  Neither one of us felt like we were missing anything before, but once we met, we were inseparable.  It was a God thing.  We had our own visions for how our lives would play out. For instance, he told me, "Before you, I never really saw myself being married. I was just going to be that cool uncle with the really good job that came home for Christmas with lots of presents."  Even in the emergency room, I reminded him "It was either you or no one. If I was going to experience love, it would have only been with the fullness in which you loved me, or not at all." (There will be another post on how we met)

With that being said, each and every day in this current reality is...beyond belief. No part of this mission was meant to be done solo. We were better together. Our lives were so intertwined that we could practically be blindfolded with one hand tied behind our backs and would get the task accomplished with synchronized movements and motions. The teamwork truly made the dream work.  So, trying to plan anything, even a doctor's appointment means that I'm committing to knowing and accepting that Patrick won't be there to meet me.  I won't have to send him a note to put it on his calendar.  Even typing that, I know someone reading this just broke down, and I'm sorry.  I can't even comprehend why I would have even typed that, but I did. 

So, no I won't be able to commit to that. Thank you for the invite, thank you for thinking of us, we appreciate the offer we just cannot commit to much other than getting up and allowing God to comfort us and show us His love and supernatural comfort each day. This is just where I am.