Letter of Loss: The Purpose of the Blog (Jan. 2022)

 *This was originally sent out via email or facebook post at the beginning of this year. Newer readers of the blog can find a short version of our story below*

  On Saturday December 4, 2021, Patrick was out shopping for our Prayer and Produce Outreach.  The morning was usual, except I decided to bring the oldest four kids to him at Aldi and let him get a head start at the store where he would meet Aileen, one of our Community Outreach Leaders.  I pulled up and sent the kids into the store to help Patrick and Aileen shop and load the car with produce for the outreach that would start at 11:30am.  Earlier that morning at home, we decided that I would keep the youngest three with me as it had been hard on them to tag along as the outreach was during their nap/lunch time. That day, after dropping them off, I stayed close and went to Home Goods next door. I got a call from my oldest daughter Kendall about 20 minutes later from Patrick's phone, she said "Dad has a pain in his chest and needs you to come over." So I went over on foot, and when I arrived, he was in Aileen's truck partially reclined  and calmly said "I need you to bring the car." So, I got the van and drove around back to load him and take him to the ER. Patrick instructed Aileen on how to carry on with the prayer and produce without him. She later told me that he made her promise to "keep it going."  On my way to get the van, I called my sister Kandace and asked her to come get the kids.  The kids and I quickly dropped Patrick off at the ER and then I drove them home, about an 8 minute drive. I got them something to eat and ran back out to meet Patrick at the hospital. When I went in, they basically said that he had an aortic tear, and they could not operate and wanted to airlift him to Tampa General.  So, I tried to keep calm and keep him calm, as they made these preparations. After a while, they decided that moving him was too much of a risk and told us that the top heart surgeon was in route to Brandon  to operate on him.  The surgery was more than five hours and although it went well, Patrick's other organs did not tolerate the trauma of the surgery and six days later he passed. Kandace (my sister) was there with me and never left my side. The nurses and doctors worked so very hard, I watched them try everything they could think of. Everyone, every single person, of every age, race, theological background, was shocked. We were all waiting on the testimony of healing on this side. The immediate outpouring of love, support, and shared grief has been humbling. He was the very best of us. One of the last things he said to my (daughter) Avielle was "You did so good baby" as she was one of the most excited to do outreach on that Saturday and was helping him to shop.  Patrick turned down an opportunity to watch the Alabama game with my brother-in-Law, Leon because he had a one-on-one date planned with Kendall (our oldest daughter) later on that Saturday. 

The last thing he was doing before going into the hospital was spending time with his children and modeling servant leadership for them.  They were excited to go out with him and share the love of Jesus in the community. That's who he was.  One of his last accomplishments on the job as Director of Logistics, was finalizing a Mental Health Initiative for his employees that included paid meditation/prayer time, spiritual yoga, as well as other resources provided by the company.  He told me that a lot of people were hurting and going through, he took everyone's pain and story as his own.  Patrick never met a stranger, if you spent 10 minutes with him, you felt like you had gained a new best friend. So very genuine, kind and funny.  He was everybody's hype man, if you had any doubt about what you could do, he would make sure to encourage you.  I’ve known him for almost two decades. He was my very best friend and true love, my partner. He always made sure that the kids and I felt loved and prioritized. He loved the community, family, friends and all of our partners. One of our friends put it best, "the world will be a little darker without him here." Thank you for your support and prayers as we seek God for supernatural comfort, healing for our hearts, and next steps.

Blessings & Peace,

Keisha L. Wheeler

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)

Wake Up.Open Blinds.Brew Coffee-6 Month Update

This won't be cohesive, but it's where I am. I want to get that part out of the way.  Many people ask, "How are you?", and still there is no way to answer that question. So here are a few of my pieces:

It's too quiet. Too quiet. The reverberating voice and hearty laugh is missing and that makes me angry. It makes no sense.

It's too quiet. The bass line is missing. 

Even when it's not quiet, and it's busy...there is the anticipation of the quiet. The weighing in of our person, his opinion and viewpoint - all missing. 

Even with seven kids. Even with their laughter, excitement, silliness and frequent reminiscence; it's too quiet.

I can't remember the actual day, but for the first time ever last month, I woke up and I wasn't "in the hospital" in my head. For the past few months, every single morning I'd be back at the hospital in my mind. I remember trying to make sense of it all; trying to create an alternate ending. Just so many thoughts. So, in order, to push through, I would:

 1)Wake up 

2)Open the Blinds 

3) Brew Coffee.  

If I could just complete those three tasks, in that order, I'd be fairly stable.  I had to follow that cadence in order to float or glide throughout the day and swing from busy thing to busy thing. But, always anticipating the meltdowns, or eight of them. The meltdowns haven't been many, and for that I thank God. I'm grateful to Him for holding us together and giving us bright spots and innumerable beautiful stories. The anticipation of the meltdowns, though, has been the worst.  Or better yet, getting through the day, getting through prayer and right at the very end.... full fallout.  I also realize that this journey is fresh and most days we just look at each other in disbelief.  I usually hate when people say this but, it could be worse. As much as Pat means to us, as tight as our family is- the fact that we are clothed naturally and spiritually and walking upright most days is miraculous and a testament to all of the prayers going up on our behalf.

Saturday June 4, 2022 was six months to the day that we rushed Patrick to the ER. I knew it would be a fight when I woke up,  but especially since Avielle and Christian decided that they wanted to participate in Prayer and Produce for the first time since our loss.  For those newer to the story, Patrick and the oldest four were shopping for food for our outreach ( Prayer and Produce) when he felt the pain in his chest and we took him to the ER. So "triggery" doesn't even explain it, but I was so proud of their bravery. I'll have to process and blog about that experience in a separate post.  

Lately, I've been waking up walking through many chapters of our story. Good memories.  Yet, still bewildered to be in this spot.  All I wanted was to "do life" with my person. That's it. At times, it was messy, hard, and crazy, but it was our life. It was our love. 

God usually shows me a lot. I've learned in the recent past that discernment is one of my spiritual gifts, but how did I not see this coming? This floored me and nothing could have prepared me for it. If Patrick himself would have told me this was coming, I wouldn't have believed him. Did I miss something, or many things?  I'm a sensible person, and nothing about this makes sense.  In one of the updates prior to the blog, I remember writing "God you are The Creator, nothing about this was creative." The most unnecessary plot twist. 

One of my earlier prayer requests to a pastor friend was, "Ask the Lord to show me where to fix my eyes, because I'm flailing right now." 

Every decision, every parenting decision is tough.  The teamwork was unrivaled.  We needed the balance. I'm out here doing my best.  

I've had some days where the love and encouragement from our support system started as early as 6am. It seems like on those days God is "padding" me.  So, if you're reading this and you have sent me a message saying "you were on my heart" or "praying for you today" or "you're an incredible person"-thank you for letting the Lord use you. It helped me to make it through one of the kid's unexpected crashes, or maybe my own.  I read every single message/email and appreciate every single phone call.

I often share with the kids where I am. They comfort me when I cry, Amira sings over me. They encourage me, too. I'm so grateful for that.  I can honestly say I don't live for my kids; I do life with my kids.  Patrick and I always made sure that they understood that. Mom and Dad are not perfect, indestructible, all-knowing beings. Thus, we learn, grow and live together. 

I was strong before this. I didn't need this.  How was THIS the move? Most days I wake up thinking "How can I possibly do this today? Again?"

The kids wanted to watch a movie and so I told them "before you watch the movie, let's write encouraging notes to send to a family in Georgia who also lost their Dad." And without a fuss, the kids sat quietly and made the cards with heartfelt messages and stickers. That's all I know how to do. I am walking in who God has made me: We all are. Which gives me a little comfort- knowing that I'm walking with Him and can still hear Him.

Amira keeps singing "He is for you; He is for you." But I don't always feel like God is "for me".  I know enough bible to know better, but I'm being brutally honest here. 

This still feels like the cruelest of pranks. The past tense-es are excruciating.  People say "time heals", but only Jesus...only the All Mighty God can heal this.