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.

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.

June Family Updates

    Just like this time last year, June has been quite a full month.  It was the first month in our summer activities as homeschool co-op and Wednesday night church activities have ended, and of course to make up to keep ourselves busy in a positive way.

    This summer has started out pretty dreadful for the most of us.  I think that it being the second summer without Patrick feels extra mean.  The kids and I have had some pretty rough days, and that's okay.  We're learning to count the wins in each day, as opposed to counting the number of good days.  We still have not found our footing, and I don't think we ever will. Loving someone this much, being loved wholly by them, and then losing them isn't something that time will just allow us to "get over."

So here is what we've been up to:

    The older three kids volunteered for Vacation Bible School and totally rocked it!

Kendall & Christian were lead teachers in the classrooms.  Elijah had a blast for his first-time volunteering, and he had the super important job of leading the Kindergartners in daily Physical Education and games.  We were out in the community a few weeks after VBS concluded and a little ones yelled, "Hey, that's my teacher from church." Elijah beamed with pride. I was so proud of the kids for getting up serving, faithfully. It was great to see them all enjoy their time.

Avielle, Joy, and Benji made lots of friends and looked forward to each day of Vacation Bible School.  Amira and I had some time to ourselves; but she loves being around the siblings, so she started to miss them about the second day.  Thankfully, we have an awesome village, and I was able to clock-in friends to take her to have a good time while the older siblings were away. 

    All of the kids started in Educational Programs at the local Family Resource Center. They are covering topics such as mathematics, social -emotional intelligence, and Kendall even built a robot at the local community college for a weeklong robotics program! They have all also continued to #KeepItMoving by each playing a vital role in our Virtual Encouragement for Preservation Ministries.  Whether they sing, read a devotional, or give a testimony, they are always willing to walk in the way of the Lord, and in the legacy of their father.  

    As Father's Day approached, we all started to feel the effect of the weight of another important day without our guy.  I panicked as storms covered the entire state.  My initial plan to get away to a water park was foiled.  My backup plan to go to the beach was also nixed.  I knew that I did not want to wake up on Sunday here in this house without the Superdad.  So just like last year, I had to find a way to pad the pain.  

I got a bright idea and found a super cute farm with a tiny home for us to stay for the night. It was fairly close to the house.  Many people know that I'm not the best with animals but for these kids there is not much I won't do.  So being able to watch them wake up in nature, walk out to feed the chickens, goats and cows brough my heart so much peace.  It also gave me direction in our next move.

July will be our last month in this house; the house that we didn't bring Patrick home to.  That stings. It hurts so bad, yet it is true.  So, after visiting the farm, it solidified that we needed to downsize and find a place with more land as we spend 75% of our time running around and being outdoors anyway.  So currently, our prayer is that God will provide a place that fits our needs, and  favor for all to work out.  I will post updates on our instagram @servingwith7.

    On the last therapy Thursday of June, all seven of the kids had counseling appointments.  That was the first time every one of them had been seen on the same day and it was truly a task.  I'm grateful to have a village of competent supportive therapists to help us along this journey.  God has truly orchestrated and aligned our path with people who love Him and love us well.  

    There have been so many beautiful blessings from people all over this month, it has been so helpful.  Deliveries of dinner, toiletries, paper products, groceries, bottled water, fun passes, gift cards has really helped us to see that God sees us. God continues to send his people and from the bottom of my heart, I'm grateful.

This coming season of triggery dates, birthdays, anniversaries, etc. is going to be rough.  So, we're counting on your continued prayers to see us through. 

I've Been Quiet:It's Been A lot

    This won't be cohesive. I haven't been blogging, it's been so much happening at once. A lot to ingest and attempt to digest. It's the end of January and I haven't even posted family updates since October.  Those holidays came in wrecking shop.  The books and the experts talk about how hard the "firsts" will be, but those seconds are brutal.  Since everything happened so close to Christmas for us, we were still numb and in raw heartache and disbelief. But the end of 2022 was indescribable. Completely terrible with moments of joy and God's supernatural strength. We made it.

    I'll start with this current month.  January has been a mixed bag, but it has been mostly hard with moments of light.  My kids who usually don't break down much, broke.  "Where is Pat? What do you mean we can't see or touch him again? We need to hear his voice, on this side?" We want our person back. This is stupid. Thirteen months later, this is still stupid.  We've spent the last several months linking up and loving on families who have also experienced a devastating loss. It's been beautifully, tragically, therapeutic. 

    Two very consistent things have been God's faithfulness and our village. I don't say it lightly, but I can't imagine where we would be without the overwhelming, constant kindness of God's people. I have too many stories to share here, but I will do so soon.  One of the most recent was a bunch of beautiful people working together to get us on our first family airplane trip to visit family.  Yes, I took all seven on a red eye by myself.  We did it. I did it.

    December we stayed very busy.  We planned for my birthday, the anniversary of our loss,  and first true Christmas without Patrick.  We made it, but my birthday was New Years Eve and it was arguably one of the worst days of 2022.  I didn't see that coming. We created new traditions and blended in some old ones, but it was very somber and struggly.  The kids' grief behavior has truly taken up so much of my time and energy. Being a counselor mom, a mom -mom,  a solo mom, and a grieving wife is a new level. A NEW level.

    November was extremely tough as it was the last Wheeler Kid birthday, and also a milestone one.  Our oldest son entered into his teenage years and Patrick was not here. That felt mean and brutal. I felt abandoned. The co-creator of our family is not here to welcome and guide my son into his teen years. That one hurt. I could tell that my son started to get anxious as the day approached. I watched him grapple with his identity, his loss, and the fear of the unknown in this new stage.  He made it through, and I did also.  But it's still a tough journey.  

    We also had our first Thanksgiving without Pat. My GOD why am I even typing that. It was the last holiday of 2021 that we would ever spend together.  Leading up to the actual day, we were crashing all over. So many meltdowns, so much ugly, so much grief, so many questions.  One of the best and most memorable moments that pierced through the darkness was a surprise visit from my baby brother Jaden. Albeit, he's 20 and not a baby, we all couldn't believe our eyes.  Our hearts needed this.  He was one of Patrick's faves.  Patrick and I met shortly after his birth.  My mom, sister, and brother-in-law arranged it all.

    Right now, I'm currently slowing down.  Someone told me a couple weeks ago, "You're entering into the second year and that's hard." I wanted to curse. "What? Why didn't you tell me this last year?". But it doesn't matter what anyone or any blog says, THIS IS ALL AWFUL. I spent the entire year running around putting my kids in all the things, for good reasons, but it took a toll on me and started to have diminishing returns.  So, I told the kids that we have to slow down and start to establish some basic, life-sustaining routines and responsibilities. Church, School, and counseling are our main focuses aside from sheer survival.  I have been posting a lot more on our Instagram account @servingwith7. Please keep praying for us, we're doing all the things.

                                Must Watch: Video of My Brother's Surprise Visit for Thanksgiving 

Community Clock In!-Grandparents Edition

    One thing that I can't say enough is how grateful we are for our community, near and far.  It's for certain, that our kids and our family is loved and covered.  I don't take for granted the outpouring of support and sheer kindness we've received from so many. Being that we moved to Florida over a decade ago with our family, we don't have grandparents nearby.  I always tell people that if I don't know anything else, I know that God provides.  On this struggly grief journey, what we've dubbed borrowed grandparents have clocked in overtime to make sure that these Wheeler Babies experience no lack! On top of being blessed to have them, it's also amazing to know how much joy they bring to their borrowed grands.  The selflessness of our friends who share their parents/grandparents with us in addition knowing that these little huggers are being a blessing makes my heart smile. That's so rare nowadays.  They have been so creatively instrumental in holding us together this year.  Whether they've covered us in prayer, or taken over for a friend trip...They have SHOWN up!

So today, I'm shouting out the Beautiful Borrowed Grandparents and Great Grandparents . If you have:

Taken them to cookies with Santa;

Shown up for their music recitals;

Rocked A little one to sleep;

Cheered them on at their basketball & volleyball games;

Given them swim lessons;

Taken them for a walk to the lake;

Taken them to the aquarium;

Braved the mall to take them shopping

Played Hide N' Seek;

Joined them in one of their EPIC dance parties;

Given endless hugs;

Baked Bread with them;

Taken them Fishing;

Given Unlimited Hugs;

...we need you, we appreciate you, and we thank God for you.  

 

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)

4k Likes -Before the Blog

     I debated on whether or not I should post this, but then I realized something very important... This is our journey, and I have to share what and when I feel led and able to do so.  Last year when we had just made our big move, I joined an organizing group on Facebook.  It was one of my first groups of that nature. After seeing how much stuff we had to move, store, and throw away-I had to get a new strategy for our new home.  I would regularly post in the group and loved the interaction with the other members as we rooted each other on for successfully decluttering, organizing and upcycling our spaces. I had found a place on the internet where I received support and could learn new things.  I would often share with Patrick about the gems I gathered, and he'd watch curiously as I implemented new hacks and storage systems. 

    Several days after our loss, I remember being in a fog; trying to understand and process what just happened. So, I wrote.  One of the things that I wrote was a post in the Organizing Facebook group.  I had shared with the group before about decluttering and donating items, and I was now going to tell them that I had joined the subgroup of people who were making decisions about what to do with the belongings of a lost loved one. So, here is the post.  It gives a lot of information, but also insight into just how numb and confused I was in those initial days.  I'm still not far from that space now, but even in my darkness I hoped to help someone. The post received over 4,000 likes. I don't know if it was the tips shared or the heart wrenching story of my loss.

                                                                    The Post

Hey everyone! This was one of my absolute favorite groups when I was on here. I shared a few months back that I unexpectedly lost my husband. He was 39 we had been married for 16 years and had seven beautiful children. I will be leaving Facebook , but this is not an announcement. This just to update you guys on some things that I’ve discussed here. One of the last posts was about his clothing. Before all of this happened, I had paid special attention to the posts about what to do with someone’s belongings once they were no longer with us. Those posts stood out to me, and my heart went out to each person. I would’ve never in my life thought that I would join the club so soon.

Here’s what I did and what I’m working through.

*Get life insurance

My husband had a small policy with his job that did not offer as much as we used to have. So, I immediately got life insurance*for myself *, enough to payoff *a home at minimum*

Ladder or AAA has good rates *hoping to save someone some time looking, it took me a while. Friendly help, no ad*



*Organize your important paperwork

I bought an accordion file for all of his information, and a separate one for me and my kids. I ordered all new copies of any missing paperwork like Social Security card or birth certificates. Any investments and things like that I put it in there and let my kids and my closest family members know where the file was. I would also include any vehicle or home warranties or any contracts that are outstanding. 

*  Label your unimportant or old paperwork. Throw it out if you can! Do not want someone having to go through all of this for you.

*  Lastly when it came to his clothes, I kept all of his shirts some of his pants, but I washed and gave away a lot of things that we didn’t need to keep. I was glad that I washed them so that I can get rid of them quickly Without overthinking it. 

It’s been almost 6 months. Our family and faith community has been everything to us.

The grace and comfort of God is holding us together. He was a huge deal to so many, especially us. He loved everyone 

*Overwhelmed with the beautiful responses, truly *

              *Pictured above is an entryway bench that Patrick and I refinished. It was our last project*

Family Updates for October

    October was definitely filled to the brim with events, triggers, etc.   There seemed to be no let up and we were pushed to the limit for sure.  But it was also very different; we seemed to experience some new and unique waves of grief. It was weird.  Although I felt God sustaining us, I still felt a lot of pressure. I was so busy I didn’t get a chance to write much and honestly when I had a moment to write I started to just protest the purpose of writing.  

    If I’m honest with myself, that’s why I didn’t sit down and commit to blogging when I had the time. Usually blogging helps me to work through some big emotions but for the first time it wasn’t therapeutic. I thought of it as a daunting task reminding me every single moment of every single day that Patrick is not here, and he should be. "Why are we here? How is this really our life?" That’s just the plainest way I can put it: He should be here. 

So here are the updates:

Friend Therapy was huge this month. We realized even more how important it is for the kids to be around safe loving friends.  I am happy to say that they have a great group of friends near and far who check in on them and take all opportunities to get together for some fun. Also, some of our great family friends took the kids on solo dates and that's always an excellent treat!

Elijah's Basketball team won the championship for his division! That was a GREAT feeling, we were all so proud of him.  

Christian started his official job as a worship leader at our local church for the Preschool classes! He's always been a hit with the little ones, so it's been such a blessing for him to lead, heal, and have fun in this new role.

Kendall started volleyball and we found out she's got a mighty powerful serve! Volleyball is a total new sport for Kendall and our whole family, so we're proud of her bravery for diving into something new and awesome.

Joy got baptized this month! She had accepted Christ as her Savior last year and then her world was rocked. She has always talked about Jesus and understood spiritual things way above her age. We call her the little old lady. But she knows Jesus and loves Jesus and cries out to Him even in her pain. So, when our church started planning our 2nd annual baptism, she told me she would like to be a candidate. For us this was beautiful and crushing at the same time as she would be the first Wheeler baby that would not be baptized by her Dad. I'll write about this more later. 

Benji's 4th Birthday was ...it wasn't the best. Benji and Patrick's bond was special as both of them were the  baby brothers. Patrick was equally close to each of the three boys, but the bonds were uniquely beautiful. I think everyone around us started to feel heavy as Benji's birthday approached. Losing your dad when you're a toddler just feels so wrong.  But God was gracious and so was little Benjamin. As I walked him through the plaza with his balloons in tow and I cried the whole way to the van. He just walked peacefully alongside me. I thank God for my sister and all of the beautiful friends who answered my last-minute call to come and celebrate in a small way with my baby boy. I needed a do-over, but he had a good time and felt loved. 

Our first Christian Hip-Hop Concert was truly one of the highlights of this entire year! I will do a separate post about this, but it was a great way to celebrate the birthdays and the struggles this month. We also had a special guest to come along with us and we all danced, screamed and sang along. There was even a worship set in the middle and just seeing families of all ages and nationalities uniting under this awesome music honoring God was a treat that my heart needed! 

Avielle has made some major strides in her writing and storytelling and is enjoying classes and friends at our homeschool co-op. She's a part of a girl's group and they coordinate what they'll wear and look forward to dressing up!

Amira has been continuing to be a little light and she's now going in to play therapy by herself! watching her go in with a smile to enjoy her time with Mrs. Katherine has been beautiful growth. 

For Patrick's 40th Birthday, we did a hard thing.  There was no singing, there was no celebratory cake, there was no balloon release, there was no faking. Pat should be here so that we could celebrate him.  To get ahead of all of the milestone days I try to have something planned. This day the entire plan went left, but my sister joined in, and we all went to Clearwater beach for the first time since our loss. Our beach. The beach of so many memories.  We took our new babies to this beach; we had our anniversary trip and many birthdays at the resort.  So just going there, to the sand, overlooking the water after our loss...was big. so that was that. We survived it.  

Family Shake-Ups happened this month, with big changes to our routine and thus our healing process.  .My sister went away for a work trip and was gone for ten days!  I believe that’s the longest time we’ve been apart in at least three years.  So that definitely showed us some things. Not only did all of us miss eachother terribly, we rely on eachother to push through. I was proud of her though, because it was hard on her as well.   My brother-in-law was so gracious and took the boys for haircuts a hamburgers and me and the girls got to have some in-home spa time on #therapyThursday. 

Halloween (from instagram post)

He absolutely loved trick-or-treating with the kids. He would do it faithfully every single year. I know that in this “climate “ there’s a lot to be said about trick-or-treating but seeing this beautiful man walk his bright- eyed children up to neighbors’ doors and say , “Thank you &God bless” has probably touched the lives of more people than we will know.
Here is the messy part… I hate trick-or-treating. I hate candy. I usually line up a few trunk -or -treats for the kids for the experience but even that is like pulling teeth. But most of them are excited. Few of them are triggered. Some of them are both. So now it’s one of me and other people have plans and I’m stuck in the middle trying to wrap my mind around this baffling reality. Trying to figure out the best way to honor all of my kids during yet another traumatic first.

My sister and Bro-in-law came and scooped up 3-6 to take them trick or treating. And the oldest two bravely continued in the tradition started by their Dad and they did It together. Y’all didn’t stop checking on me…Thank y’all for praying. We made it . 

Messy Grief - Part 1

 Over the years and throughout my time in seminary, I'd read periodically on the topic of grief.  I was curious enough to read about what it could look like and study some components for my biblical counseling coursework. But superstitiously I thought if I researched it too much, I'd be inviting the premature loss of a loved one. I know that's crazy and it's not the most spiritually informed thought, but it's real.  

After our situation happened, I poured over the bible, devotional, books, blogs, vlogs, pamphlets everything I could get my hands on to try to make sense of what had happened.  But I learned quick and fast that nothing would make it make sense, and that a lot of what I was reading was really general or "removed." The authors were speaking from a space of super spirituality that I couldn't get with.  Either that, or they were so far removed from those first initial days and weeks of the pummeling pain that I just couldn't relate.  I had to shut that all down. So, I started writing.  

As I thought about it, of the sermons I've heard in my lifetime, all of the teachings, biblical lament was rarely a focus.  Teaching about that real space where grief and faith intersect was a rare topic. Yet, it is something that will touch us all.  I have more thoughts on this that I'll share in another post. The raw truth is: grief is messy. And for whatever reason, even though it's something that we all will definitely go through, it's hardly referenced.  It's a subject that's rarely attended to or addressed, in and out of the church.  I thought back to when my granddaddy passed.  When I got back in town from his service, we went to serve at our church, and no one asked how we were.  A few people said "awww, I'm sorry" but quickly moved on. My grandfather DIED at 68! He was a pastor, a loving husband, father, grandfather, friend, mentor, etc.  How was I expected to show up at church and just serve the save God who chose not to heal my grandfather from cancer? Thankfully, the loss of Patrick we have experienced a much different more empathetic response, but sheesh!

So, here's what messy grief looks like, in our journey thus far. There are no lines, no calendars, no framework, no way around it.  Here's an example of what messy looks like for us:

• At times I don't ask for help because it reminds me of my void, and it's retraumatizing.
• Other times I don't ask for help because the fear of disappointment and rejection are now higher than ever
• Sometimes my kids will make such a mockery and mess of our house, I'm sure they're protesting a world that makes no sense.  "When I tidy up and put everything in its place like I did before, it won't bring my Dad back. "
• When my kids can't sleep, they miss their Dad. "I never had trouble sleeping when Daddy was here."
• If my kid disobeys or doesn't complete a task, I have to sit and debate whether to be disciplinarian or counselor-maid.
• Sometimes I'll throw out all of my plans and take the kids to four different parks, just so we can be in nature, and I can meltdown and avoid my seemingly insurmountable Mom List at home.
• I struggle to believe that God can make something beautiful out of this.
• Sometimes on birthdays I open sob with my kids. Many times they are strong for me, too. 
• When I enjoy something, I wonder if my kids worry that I'm healed and over it. Of course, they don't but the fact that I have to even monitor those thoughts is exhausting. 
• I don't think I'll ever be able to hear or use the word "miss" again aside from this situation. It no longer means the same thing.
• Sometimes I type, "My phone battery is low on power" instead of "my phone d*ed". Like it's that deep.
• They hate this house without their Dad in it. This is the house where our lives changed forever. Another reason why getting them to do chores is a struggle sometimes. No amount of order in the house will restore what we've lost. Contrarily, I struggle to function in mess.
• The hardest thing to try to do is to keep your kids motivated to do anything, set goals, look to the future, for two reasons:1) Because whatever they face, Patrick won't be here. 2)The reward for people seeking after God, living a life of love and service abruptly ends with them being promoted to heaven and leaving a slew of heartbroken loved ones behind. Thankfully God handles this for me, I don't even try to make it make sense. 

39: Getting Ahead of Pat's Birthday(edited)

I remember it clearly. I was sitting alone downstairs on our gray sofa one night, getting ready to head up to bed. As the YouTube video I was watching ended, the "watch next" suggestion was a preview of  a newsstory: "Chadwick Boseman Dead at age 43." I froze. I was stunned. My eyes were glued to the thumbnail. I didn't want to press play. I couldn't understand what I was reading. I didn't know Mr. Boseman, but like most of us I was a fan.  I appreciated his acting skills and his remarkable ability to bring to life one of my family's favorite superheroes, Black Panther.  Watching him on screen, full of life and vibrance and now gone at thirty-nine years old was unsettling to say the least. 

    Patrick was usually pretty chill about his birthday.  The only time it became a really big deal was in 2018 when we hoped that Benjamin would be born on his birthday but instead, he was born the day before.  On October 17, 2021, less than two months before his passing, Patrick turned 39. Thirty-nine isn't really an eventful age. Perhaps some may celebrate it as the last year of their thirties. But I can't imagine that anyone would think of it as their last year of life on this earth.

     I remember sensing that Patrick needed some encouragement. So, I reached out to some friends and family and asked them to send messages so that I could print them out and present Patrick with a box full of blessings & uplifting notes.  I noticed that as he opened each of them, he smiled.  Reading how much he meant to so many was good for his soul. " Ironically, several weeks later I would be creating another box of blessings for us, his bereaved family, full of notes of encouragement and stories of appreciation for his life.

Yesterday, we all sat down as a family and watched the new trailer for Black Panther 2. When it was over, we all cheered.  Patrick was a huge marvel fan, and the Black Panther movies took it to a new level! As we sat there processing all of the possibilities of the sequel's plot, we realized how hard this must have been for the cast since Chadwick is no longer with us.  So, the tears they cried on screen, were probably real and their hearts must have been heavy as they walked out this reality in real life and in the storyline.  Patrick is not here to enjoy this movie with us.  We can all hear his cheers and excitement in our heads.  His passion and enthusiasm for things came from pure places of appreciation.  Just watching his over-the-top reaction to things was a thrill in itself.  I miss his reactions; We all do. 

I didn't think age thirty-nine would be this significant; Patrick's last year on this side, and my first year as a widow. There, I typed it. I still can't believe it. 

*The Kids named our Black Van "Tchalla" and would do this Wakanda tribute as they entered*

Family Updates for September

September. September. September was a lot. It rolled in with another struggle holiday without our person and went out with us fleeing the path of Hurricane Ian. Parenting has been wearing me out. The days are getting harder. But I'm able to articulate clearer.  My kids' smiles have brought me joy, and their honesty is golden.  Alas, here are the highlights from September. 

Sharing Via Social Media

We started an Instagram account, @servingwith7.  I found that there were things that I wanted to share about our journey that I may not be able to devote a full blog post to. So far, it's been a great experience to give short updates and share wins. Thanks to everyone who follows us and cheers us on in this valley place. Due to some glitches with our blog subscription box, we also created a website, servingwith7.com. This provides a way to get the most updated blogs, a place to send your stories, and ways to help our family. I'm one of the least tech savvy people I know, but the templates made it easy.

One-on-Ones

Some beautiful friends and grandparents on loan took the kids on more one-on-one dates this month.  It really helped to have the littles entertained and out of the house to enjoy breakfast, the park, and story time at the library. Our community really is everything. We are so grateful. 

Biscuits N' Grace

We also had an amazing time at what Benji has dubbed Biscuits n' Grace. Some special friends hosted us for breakfast and a dance party, and it was so therapeutic. 

Church & Outreach

The kids had Invite Night at the local church, and I was truly in awe as they got excited and prepared to share the gospel with friends they'd invited to the festivities. They have all enjoyed the lessons and learning alongside their friends. In a time where "faith is fragile", they show up and God meets them there. 

This month, I watched the kids do something extremely brave.  We were invited to a Life Group (Adult Sunday School) at the local church to share about Kid's Grief Group and how it's been helpful in our healing process. These kids, The Lord's kids, were so composed and articulate as they shared their struggles and lessons learned about grief. We are grateful to Mr. Shook for the invite, and it was good to look into the eyes of prayer warriors who have been committed to lifting us up in this struggle season. I will post more about this later.

Therapy & Activities

The kids are still doing well in karate, basketball, and boxing.  Therapy has been a great outlet and I'm grateful for our team. We will be slowing down this fall and trying a few new things and will keep everyone posted. I realized that I was running too hard and in the words of Paul the Apostle, although all things may be permissible, not all of them are beneficial.  

Hurricane Drama

Hurricane Ian came through at the end of the month brining some unnecessary angst and anxiety. Some amazing friends encouraged us to evacuate with them to Orlando and then the storm followed us there. Thankfully, the kids slept peacefully through it and got to enjoy fun times with friends as we weathered the storm together. We made it back home safely, with no damage and our power had been restored. Thanks to all of the prayer warriors who flooded our phone with prayers and offers to help.

The Momma 

This past month for me was, it wasn't kind. Even as I type this, I'm just hoping that someone will be blessed in some small way by us sharing what we're reluctantly having to walk though.  But I did two brave things.  First, I was invited to guest blog for Lost Poet Press; the publishing company that brought Patrick's devotional to life. I felt honored to be able to share a word of encouragement, and it felt good to hear from God who gave me the story and words to share. And secondly, I was able to share our testimony and story for National Life Insurance month for a podcast that was bringing awareness to the importance of having coverage for your loved ones.  As the date approached to record the podcast, I wondered if I was ready to share but the host was gracious. I told her that I didn't want to focus on our loss, I wanted to focus on our story and encourage people to have the hard talks.  One thing I've learned is that helping people makes me feel normal. It makes me feel like my old self, when my world was whole. 

Just Friends?: Storytime

This week, the kids seemed to enjoy the stories I've shared about me and Pat's dating days. On what has turned out to be a harder Saturday than I was anticipating, I figured I'd blog and share a beautiful story with the prayer warriors.

Back in college, early 2000's, Patrick made his intentions very clear.  He would tell me; "None of these guys really want to be just friends with you.  They are just waiting for the right opportunity. So, I'm making it clear out the gate, God told me you were going to be my wife!"  Being scrawny and friend-zoned all of my teen years, I had made it up in my mind that Keisha was for Keisha. I couldn't waste my time counting on anyone to be there for me. I had no space for disappointment or a broken heart. (I later attributed much of this to my own daddy issues, but I'll come back to that.) My plan was to work hard, study hard, graduate, and boss up.  I was still able to do all of those things, and more in spite of the fact that love, marriage, and a family were not really on my radar.  But Patrick was annoyingly persistent and very bold. He would show up to most social events to keep an eye on these guys who were claiming to be just friends.  My roommates would walk past and snicker, "the preacher is here for you." 

One particular day, a friend called and wanted to grab a bite to eat. Once we got to the restaurant and he said he was paying, I knew something was up.  He started to tell me about his future plans and apparently wanted to officially inform me that after some thought, he realized that he would like to pursue a dating relationship with me. I was caught off guard, but it proved Patrick right. As I remember my response to this friend, I realize that it would foreshadow the next two decades of my life. I replied, "Oh, I'm sorry. But this, this with Patrick... This is it."  

And that was it. Patrick was it. I told him many times, "It was either you or no one."

Patrick & I at my Aunt Valerie's, Christmas 2004 *Engaged* 

I'm Finna Hate Fall

I'm finna hate fall.  I just know it.  When I first started to see the harvest displays at the grocery stores, the pumpkins and the cinnamon brooms, I tried to ignore them. I felt something, but I was already feeling too much of everything else, so I had no space. I had to block it out.  But last fall, was our last fall. I thought it would be a fresh start. Clearly, I was wrong.  I'm rarely wrong about things like this. I hate being wrong; but I can acknowledge when I am. 

We had just moved back to Brandon after about seven years of living in the flourishing south Riverview area. We'd experienced everything from spotty Wi-Fi, to overcrowded roads, and baby budding trees that barely provided shade to the caterpillars.  But in our new, more mature neighborhood, it finally felt like fall. Big, shady trees lined our street, making it a much cooler season than we had experienced in a while. School started up, we were getting into a routine, Patrick's commute was shorter-all things were looking up-ish. We were slowly adjusting and making our home into a home and adding new memories in the process.

I was always the fun coordinator.  I think I'm a pretty boring person in day-to-day life, but I can definitely organize some fun! One of my favorite things to do, was to find new experiences and adventures for Patrick and the kids. Secretly, I would love sending him off with them so that I could have a quiet moment alone in the house-so it was a win/win. Right on the corner was a church with a huge pumpkin patch.  I had arranged for Patrick and the kids to go over, take some awesome pics, and pick a pumpkin.  They came back with 9 pumpkins; one for reach kid and one for him to decorate and take to his job for a carving contest. They had a messy blast but lost the contest. 

Fall is here again, too quickly. It's reminding me that in a few short months, it will have been a full year since we lost my Husbae. I still cannot believe I typed that. And even before that, I get to celebrate Benji's, Pat's and Max's birthdays all within a few short months.  Fall is here again, reminding me that we will not have a fresh start.  I was wrong. 

One thing that many of the books and blogs I've read haven't shed enough light on, is the fact that this type of loss shakes the very foundation of every facet of your life.  No matter how much faith you have, no matter how long you've been a believer, no matter how many encounters with the Holy Spirit you've had-this is physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually disorienting. 

 "Where am I? What's going on? Whose life is this? Where is Pat?"

The Unanswerable Question Part 2: "How y'all doing?"

Today I figured I'd answer this question by giving a glimpse into our day. Today is Thursday, August 25, 2022 and here's how it went.

Mornings-Are still hard, and lately they've been getting worse. For a split second today, my eyes opened and I thought, "Okay, I'm okay. Okay enough to function." But within about five minutes, I'm back to, "How can I do this again. I can't get up, I won't."  I looked over and realized that Benjamin had slept through the night in the twin bed in our room for the second night in a row: Definitely counting that win.  As I've mentioned before, I try to schedule everything I can in the morning in an effort to get up and moving. Every Thursday for the majority of this year, I get up and take the littles to play/art therapy. Amira, Benjamin, Joy and Avielle rotate, so we're there for at least an hour and a half.  I knew I had to get up. When I got up, around nine, all of the kids were still sleeping. I yelled for them to get up and get moving so that we could go to Mrs. Katherine's.  With the exception of Kendall, who was headed for a morning at the mall with Mrs. Marcie, everyone got ready to pile into the van. Except for Elijah.  I asked everyone where he was and yelled for him several times.  This week, most of this month honestly, he's been very slow to come downstairs and start his day.  My guess is that he's been dreading his upcoming birthday. I'll post about this later in detail.

Usually I just yell upstairs, but this morning I wasn't having it. So, I charged upstairs to get him myself. When I got up to his room, he was just standing there. I asked him what he was doing, and he quickly looked over and grabbed the cologne and said, "I'm getting ready, putting on cologne." I know my son. My momma-sense went off and I looked at him in the eyes. I told him that I would do just about anything to fix this situation. I told him that it was unfair, and I knew he was angry.  I let him know that he was a great son and deserved his Dad. As we hugged, he held me so tightly while I cried. We were late for counseling.

Counseling went well in the sense that everyone enjoyed talking to the therapist and for the first time ever, Amira stayed with her and allowed me to leave the room to set the other kids up on their schoolwork in the lobby. Because we do schoolwork in the lobby of the therapist office, because that's our life.  At one point, Elijah was struggling with a math problem. He was using online scratch paper and it wasn't working out. So, I broke out my eyeliner pencil, and helped him write out the problem. He ended up with a 91% on the assignment, Max scored 100%. They are excellent at math, but I told them both that I was simply proud of them for pushing through. 

After counseling I visited the Chicago food truck since I was on that side of town to grab pizza puffs for lunch. I got there, ordered and began weeping. The last time I was there, Boyz II Men was playing on their radio. I cried then, too.  I stood there bawling and Joy asked, "Mom why are you crying, what happened?" I replied, "for the next ten years at least, I'll only be crying for Daddy."  All of the kids surrounded and hugged me through it. We only broke up the group hugfest when another patron walked up and said, "Ma'am I'm so sorry, excuse me but I can't get out."  Apparently, I had created a parking space and was blocking all of the other customers in.  We made it home, met Kendall and took a second to exhale from a long morning. 

The kids finally went down for a nap...at 4:15pm, Benji had to be at the YMCA for his sports discovery program at 5:15pm. I had to sit and make a decision whether to let them nap or risk the fallout of disappointment if he woke up and had missed his soccer session. This may seem small but trying to be a good mom, navigate fallouts, on top of vacillating between functionality and soul-crushing disbelief at any given moment is just...I have no words.

After all of this, I take the kids to one Y for Benji, and then back to another Y for Elijah's basketball practice. It's raining, Joy's crying, Avielle is withdrawn and sad, we haven't had dinner and it's 6:20pm, and my phone is dead. Thankfully, my sister and Leon remembered that I said I needed their help, so they met me at the Y and were able to stay with Elijah while I took the other kids home to eat dinner. 

My bed is full of clean laundry, but my kids don't have any motivation to put it away. I don't have enough hands or ears. "What does it matter? Who cares what we wear? Who cares where we go? What's the point of it all?" Some days are like this, and I can't even blame them. We ended the night watching a video of Patrick baptizing Elijah and Avielle last year. I don't know how tomorrow will look, but I want to thank you all, my village near and far, for every single prayer and caring deed. 

Elijah's Bday : Chicago 2019

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

Patrick's Book: A Living Work

As you can see in the photo below, I can't bring myself to delete the calendar reminders. "Write morning men of God."  I was always that person for Patrick. He was the visionary, and I was the implementer. He was so zealous and creative, always thinking of ways to improve things and help people. I’d take one of his ideas and go full force in researching and planning.  One of our friends recently texted saying, “He always told me that you were the driving force, he was just holding the wheel.”  

It all started when Pat would send out encouraging texts to the brothers a couple years ago. When I saw all the love that was pouring in from men who had been impacted by his timely texts, I later encouraged him to turn them into a book. He said, “Yeah, okay that'd be cool” and kind of tucked in the back of his mind.   One of the many admirable things about Patrick was his humility. He never felt like, “I’m a big deal” or “The world needs to hear what I have to say.” He was just sharing what God had placed on his heart to encourage the men in his life. Until one day someone asked him "What's the name of that book you're sending the devotions from?" 

Once he finally realized that a book would be a good idea, if for nothing more than to share with the men in his circle, we reached out to a publishing company.  It seemed like nothing would work out with scheduling the initial consultation and every week there seemed a new person assigned to his project.  My discernment bells started to go off and some things seemed shifty.  A few weeks later, as I was being interviewed by an author for her upcoming book on homeschooling moms, I asked her about the credibility of the publishing company we were looking into.  She replied simply, "No." 

So, Patrick went back to the prayer closet and was reminded that a beautiful friend in ministry had a boutique publishing house.  He came to me and said, " Lost Poet Press is supposed to publish my book!" So, when he said that I replied, "Well call them then!" When God told Patrick something, I was surely not going to get in the way.  In November 2021, I remember fiercely reminding him “Don’t forget to email the editor!”  Shortly after his passing, I reached out to our editor and friend and said, "We have to do this, for him." She wholeheartedly agreed.  You can read both of our tributes in the Foreword and the Afterword of the devotional titled, "Good Morning, Men of God."  When it was finally released, I was simply grateful that his work and his vision was brought to life. There were so many talented individuals in place to help to take a simple word document and make it a living work.

I haven't read it in its entirety yet, but I've been honored to receive photos and words of encouragement from those who've ordered and started reading their copies!

Both the Kindle E-book and Paperback are available on Amazon. 

"Big Jump, Mommy!"

     As I sat out on the deck on our first family vacation since 2019, I stood up and looked out over the marina admiring the boats and the beautiful water. It was Father's Day, and I was missing my person immensely. Mostly because I knew how much he would’ve loved this spot. It was a new adventure and finding relaxing accommodations for our family’s size and standard was quite the chore. So, we were usually slow to try new places.  Sitting there in a daze, I knew baby Amira was close by. She is usually in my pocket.  She was jumping up and down watching her reflection in the paned patio door. One of the times she jumped so high it surprised me! " Wow, do it again! ", I nudged.  Amira proudly jumped again. She then turned to me and asked, "And again?" "Yes", I said with a smile. 

     After about a half dozen jumps Amira looked at me with a big smile, "Mommy, jump! Big jump, Mommy!" But I didn’t want to jump. I don’t want to jump. Big jumps, little jumps- I don’t want to.  Jumping is laborious and seemingly unbecoming of a mom- of -many in her late thirties. It's awkward. But my sweet therapy baby wanted me to join in her moment of wonder. Of course, I started to cry. Making the decision of whether to jump or let her down added to the emotional overwhelm that was already so heavy in that moment. Like she usually does, Amira came over, lifted my head with her tiny hand and said, " It’s OK Mommy." So, I mustered all of the strength I had, and I jumped.  I’m sure that’s going to have some poetic and prophetic meaning at some point in the future, that’s why I’m putting it here. But I don’t feel it right now. I’m just here... not wanting to jump. 

All Emptied Out

Waking up earlier than usual, dentist appointments, therapy sessions, meetings, meet-ups, etc.  all got overwhelming and I was tapped by the end of the week.  I actually had to stop and cancel my last meeting on Friday because I was just done.  I had no more go-go juice.  Coupled with the myriad of emotional highs, lows, triumphs, and trying moments-this week wore me out.  I was talking to one of the kids and they expressed a thought that I recently had myself "How do we keep doing this? How does it actually work?"  This referring to our abrupt, unwelcomed reality. So here are some revelations and realizations from the past seven days:

My Sleep

For the most part, I've been able to sleep better than I could have anticipated. Even in the beginning, with the right tea, essential oils and clearly much prayer from the village-sleep was had.  The mornings would try to choke me out, though.  As time has progressed, I've learned that sleep hasn't been a friend.  Most people say, "Get some sleep" or "Hope you rest well" and that's normal and I usually don't have a response.  But lately I'm learning that sleep can be both a friend and a foe. Yes, it closes the chapter on the day and allows me to put one more mark under the "Days I've Survived the Stupid", column. But no amount of sleep prepares me to face another day without my person. Our person.  It just reminds me that I am where I am. This is crazy; sleep isn't a friend at all. 

My Son

This week I watched Christian pour himself into leading adorable Kindergarteners in worship at Vacation Bible School. He couldn't sleep, he was so excited to wake up early each morning and go to his volunteer "job." He spoke with excitement about the kids' enthusiasm and dance moves. The songs spoke of God's design for us, and His creative nature.  As we walked through the parking lot at the end of each session, Christian would high- five the little ones on their way to the car.  This was his element.  I marveled at how God used my son, my  grieving son, to minister to others.  As the week waned, he was exhausted-physically and spiritually.  So my mommy-meter went off, and I took him aside and asked him about his Dad.  He needed that invitation to get some things out.  But for the rest of the weekend he was somber, particularly Sunday.   "At church they sing songs about God being all of these things, but He wasn't a healer. He did not heal him.  Everyone else is going home after church to hang out with their Dad, but not me." 

These beautiful children, deserve their Dad. 

The songs are still hard for us.

 My Soul

A few weeks ago, a song came to mind and even now I don't remember when or where I first heard it.  I sang it out loud to see if the kids remembered the rest of it.  The lyrics that did come to mind were "Awake , my soul, and sing; sing His praise aloud."  Kendall immediately and melodically chimed in and finished the song by Hillsong.  A few days later, she sent me a video of her singing the song and playing the chords.  Most of our close family knows that Kendall is the jack of all trades.  She can try something once and be instantly great at it. She can learn anything.  For whatever reason, she took that song and turned around and blessed me with it. I don't know what God is doing, I hear the messages that He is sending. Through my pain, anger, sorrow and disappointment, I still hear Him.

Today I went to church, and I sang. Even though I wasn't fully there, I knew what I was singing was true. I knew that the name of Jesus, my Jesus, Patrick's Jesus, could not be rivaled.

*I do not own rights to this beautiful music*