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.

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)