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.

How we #KeepItMoving: Summertime Edition

    The only reason I have any recollection of last summer is because of all the photos that pop up on my phone to remind me. But I can't believe it's summer...again. I don't want it to be summer again. I need time to freeze and rewind to Winter 2021, so I can bring Pat back. Over the past few weeks, people have asked how I'm able to juggle being a solo mom of seven and have asked how they can help. One of the things that I usually tell people is that "we do all the things." 

    Since our loss, we rarely stay in the house. It's crucial that we have things to look forward to. But at the same time, I make sure to schedule blocks of time where we have nothing planned so that we can just process and exist without obligation. Both of these things have been extremely helpful on our grief journey. Because I know that if I stay in the house too long, I'll melt into a puddle of tears; unproductive and unable to move. But I also know that too much busyness overwhelms me and adds to my anxiety. So, it's a delicate balance. This is how I learned that it's costly to grieve with kids. 

    When Patrick was here, we spent hours doing life with each other. We would limit our commitments to make sure we had time to enjoy one another and grow in God as a family. Just being together doing everyday things was an adventure.  We were very cautious not to get our kids involved in too many activities, as we were already a big family in ministry: That alone, kept us on the go.  But now...we do all the sports & all the activities. This is why I'm grateful for all the blessings and help that comes our way. I'm grateful that in Florida we have access to many free and low-cost activities and ways to enjoy nature. Beautiful distractions, including lots of #friendtherapy help us get through the days. So, this is what our summer looks like.  It's imperative that we #keepitmoving.  If you know someone who has grieving kids, please share this list with them.

"How's Therapy Going?"

    I snapped this picture below of Benjamin today at our family therapy session.  The counseling office was so comfy that both my babies went to sleep right there on the sofa. My four and two-year-old had been up in the wee hours of the morning; they couldn't sleep.  They were triggered and afraid.  So that meant Momma didn't get much sleep either.  We used to share a room with Pat, and they can feel the gaping space. Although it’s been 17 months since we lost him, they still just want their daddy back. They want their world whole again. 

    About a week ago, I posted a video on Instagram that went viral. Before this, I thought that viral meant about 10k views. This particular video, that was uploaded from my ring camera, now has over 426,000 views! I started not to post it, because it was jarring to even me when I watched it back. It was one of my most unguarded, vulnerable moments of grief.  But it blessed many.  The messages of solidary and empathy poured in by he thousands.  But several people asked, "are you in counseling?"

 

    In May of 2020, Patrick and I were looking forward to walking across the stage of Luther Rice College & Seminary to receive our well-earned master's degrees in biblical counseling.  But the pandemic had other plans, so the ceremony was cancelled. But we still had a socially distanced celebration in our caps and gowns.  Yet another crazy milestone in the adventures of Pat N' Keisha.  Over the years, we had been honored to counsel dozens of beautiful, strong, faithful servants during our time together in ministry. In addition, one of the very last projects that Patrick was working on before he went into the hospital, was a mental health initiative at his job.  He not only helped get paid prayer/mediation time approved, but he oversaw the implementation of a mental wellness room on the work site.  

   As a lifelong proponent of mental health, I’ve seen a therapist on several occasions as an adult.  I realize that although I'm a strong person, part of my strength is knowing when to tag in help. Over the past decade, Patrick and I both have gained coping techniques and been provided a safe place to vent with the help of licensed mental health counselors.  But therapists are not magicians. Therapists are not God. The hard, ugly and awful doesn’t go away because you make an appointment, sit on a cozy couch, and pour out your heart.  A counselor cannot solve your problems, break your habits, right your wrongs, or in our case…being our person back.

    Has counseling been helpful? Yes, it helps take the edge off and I wouldn't want to walk this journey without having trusted, equipped counselors in our village.  Since the week after Patrick's Heaven Party, we've been under the care of Christian Therapists.  But some Things you can’t walk around; you can only walk through. What I share here, is what walking through looks like.

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. 

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?"

Trips, Trees, and Triggers

 I think growing up Baptist has me inclined to use alliteration every time I get an opportunity to write. Patrick and I would always joke about this because he did the same! But in this blog post, I will share some insight into our lives in each of these three categories: Trips, Trees & Triggers

Trips

I may be overshooting it, but it seems like Patrick, and I spent 70% of our time together in the car. Whether we were carpooling as we did for many years taking him to back and forth to work or hitting the road for a family trip-some of our best memories and conversations were in the car.  One of the most infamous was our first trip as "boyfriend and girlfriend" to Atlanta.  His oldest brother and his family invited me to their home for the holiday while we were in college, and I was happy to meet the big bro whom I had heard so many stories about and Patrick's niece and nephews whom he bragged about all the time.  He later told me that on the drive to Atlanta, he knew that I was the one because he didn't have to turn on the radio once, we talked the entire ride. 

In this season of loss, we have taken two trips. The first one was for Father's Day and even booking it, I was consumed with anxiety. One thing that many people don't tell you about this type of trauma, is that it affects your ability to commit...to press "go" on anything. When we got there, I knew he would have been proud at the place I chose. The fact that it was nice, safe, clean and close to the beach worked out well. But Patrick, was Patrick. So, although we had a good time, the gaping hole seemed to swallow us up.  We spent many quiet moments enjoying all of the things that we had enjoyed together when our family was whole. On the second trip, also about an hour away as I cannot do long road trips, things went well also but the meltdown was on the horizon. We were celebrating the first boy birthday of the year, and I found myself thinking, "Why are we even here? Where is Patrick? What are people thinking when they see me with these million kids, solo?" As the kids enjoyed the water park, I sobbed nearby. I just couldn't believe that my other half, the helicopter dad wasn't with us. 

One of the first things that I thought while driving after our loss was, "How is it that none of these roads, none of these streets will lead me to Patrick?"

Trees

Patrick loved, LOVED mature trees. There would never be a time when we would drive by large, beautiful trees without commenting, "Gosh look at these trees. I just love 'em." I was never really into trees growing up, but I learned to have an appreciation for them when he started to point out their beauty.  A few years ago, I remember going back to our place, the place where we first met: Tallahassee.  What I thought was a familiar corner, no longer seemed recognizable.  I had to check the street signs to confirm that yes, it was Tennessee and White Drive. It was the "we're almost home" intersection. But something about it looked different. What I noticed was that, when we were there over 15 years ago, the trees were tiny little struggly shrubs. On our trip back, more than a decade later, the trees had overtaken the corner. They had come into their own.  For years I've tried to unpack the meaning of that, but even still I cannot.  

One of the first things that I thought after our loss as I pulled up to our home was, "How are these trees still living and moving, and Patrick is not?"

Triggers

In the last eight months, the kids and I have experienced more sickness that we had in the previous decade as a whole! It has been unrelenting, and also very triggering.  It started with Max having to have oral surgery. Up until this, Patrick had been the only person in our family to have to be put under. Then a little later, Elijah and I ended up in urgent care with sinus infections.  However, his heart rate and oxygenation levels were concerning so they repeatedly asked if he had asthma (does not) and sent him home with an albuterol pump. So I spent 12 hours barely sleeping while monitoring his heart rate and oxygenation levels...the same two numbers that I was complete fixated on during Patrick's time in the ICU before his passing.  

Then most recently, as we were in the nursery at church and I noticed Amira seeming to struggle to catch her breath. She had a runny nose a few days before, but nothing major. After battling with myself for about an hour, I reached out to an excellent friend and asked her to help with a breathing treatment. I had called my pediatrician and had enough experience to know that this was the normal go to with the rest of her symptoms. After we gave her the treatment, it didn't improve so nervously I took her to Urgent Care.  The doctor came in, tested her for everything with no positive results. But she was definitely wheezing.  I watched as my two-year-old, held it together until the medical staff left the room, then she said quietly, "Mommy, I want to go to the car." She cooperated with everything they asked her to do, she was even cordial and said, "thank you" and "bye." But even my baby knew that something was off. She didn't' feel good or safe in that space. She sensed something.  Thankfully we were sent home with treatment, and she improved overnight.

In each of these cases I thought, "What if they send me to the hospital? What if I missed something? What if I don't bring them home?" Those thoughts rattled me as I tried to decide whether I was being paranoid or potentially negligent.  I can say that looking back on it, I'm thankful for God's peace.  I handled it like a boss, although I felt like anything but. It was all too reminiscent, even making the call to my friend (who had come over to watch the kids every single day that Pat was in the ICU) to come over to watch them while Max was being put under. I paced and cried in the waiting room while he was having the short procedure done.  When they called me back and said, "we're just waiting on him to wake up", my heart dropped. I sat next to the little cot and waited for him to wake up. As soon as he came to, he motioned for his iPad. I gave it to him, and he typed "Thank you for taking care of me Mommy." 

When we pulled into the driveway following Max's procedure, I walked up to my friend and said, " I brought him home." Without either of us realizing it in that moment, I think we both knew what I was saying. 

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

Guest Post-The Cheerleader

The boys had their first basketball game last weekend and they had fun. It was so exciting, and in true Wheeler fashion the whole squad was there to root them on! With it being their first basketball game ever, I got up that morning very sad. I was thinking about the fact that their person was missing out on this new adventure.  A very important person. This person was an amazing cheerleader, with a loud, passionate voice to root Max and Elijah on. It was missing. While enjoying the squeaky sneakers on the court floor and the unusually loud buzzer, I noticed my sister. My sister was being a mother, and she was in her element. She was the loudest voice in that gym. She was up and down that court, rooting everyone on, not just Max and Eli. My sister was Keisha-, the captain of the cheerleading team at Arlington High School and I just knew she was going to do a cartwheel! I know this game was for the boys, but to see my sister this happy and engaged made my heart so happy. There are a lot of tough, stupid days.  And although we didn't win the game, that experience was a win.

by Kandace H. 

Family Updates For May

May kind of zoomed by, which I'm not sure is a good thing or a bad thing. There were days, moments that were almost unbearable.  We had one of the worst nights we've had since December. It all boils down to this: we just want our person back. I know that sounds crazy. I know the experts will say we're circling through the stages of grief and are back at denial, but we want our person back. We do. Be that as it may, the outpouring of support, stories and shared grief has helped us muster the strength to make it through May.

So here are the wins:

A List of Beautiful Things

• A friend gifted Joy and I a "Mommy and Me" decorating class and we enjoyed our time together
• The kids played the piano and sang on stage at our church for the first time in 2022 and since our loss.  Thanks to everyone who showed up physically and virtually to support my babies at the recital. They did the hard thing, and my heart was proud.
• We survived Mother's Day. A day that Patrick and the kids made me feel so special. The community showed UP and covered me in a way that was completely overwhelming. I was even able to walk into a bible study group and thank some of the prayer warriors in person. That was a first.  
• My sister went to Mexico for work and brought us back the coolest gifts and authentic treats to try. The kids felt rich with their pesos and custom-made purses and wallets. 
• My brother -in -law got to attend Family Night with us at Kids' grief group. It was an unforgettable experience.
• A couple of friends joined us for our new "Sundae Sundays" tradition, where we get ice cream or frozen yogurt in this case in honor of Patrick. 
• One of our closest friends graduated, and we had family fun celebrating at her party.
• The.Book.Was.FINISHED! The Kindle edition was published as we await the first hardcopy. That project in itself was...I felt like I was floating. There was no way I was "there" while doing all of the things that needed to be completed and turned in to the publisher for this work. 

Family Updates

Joy is starting to enjoy her Sunday Class more and more. She is opening up in karate and even earned a yellow belt! The girl is making moves and looking forward to first grade.  When I see her interacting with friends and coming into her own, it makes my heart happy because I know how hard it must be to press through.  She is aptly named, and although I can tell when she needs extra hugs, I appreciate all of your prayers for my baby. God hears. 

Avielle has had a better month than the last. She is growing so much, reading a lot and expressing her feelings well. She even wrote a blog post that we will share within the coming weeks. Avielle is wise beyond her years.  However, she is still taking this very hard. She is the feeler of the group, the biggest empath of us all. Her heart is tender and her love for others runs deep. She also got promoted again in karate and is one step closer to earning her orange belt. I've noticed that she does better when she has one on one time with friends, and a few crazy schedules made that less possible this month.  Since grief group is ending, she will be seeing the therapist specializing and play/art therapy who works with Ben and Joy.  One thing that made her elated was being able to search and buy Daddy's book. She also loves when we get to go to the pool.

Benjamin is such a sweet kid. He is always the first to want to start the compliment circle that we do at bedtime.  He wants to hug everyone all the time, and he is truly a giver.  Benji is super lovable and is enjoying Sunday class at church.  He was disappointed when Wednesday Night church ended. That was hard for him as routines are crucial during this time. Thankfully, we picked up and started gymnastics at the Y and is loving it.  He finished his soccer season by scoring a winning goal! He received a medal and a certificate and was very proud of himself. He is still struggling with regulating his emotions and having several meltdowns but that's to be expected. Benji prays every night "Lord we just need your help; we need our Daddy back."  Overall, he is a strong, smart, kind, and fun-loving toddler. 

Elijah is really enjoying and excelling in Karate and still our little mathematician and maintains a high A Average.  He LOVES the water, so any time we can get to swim he enjoys it and seems to be refreshed. It's been a struggly month for him, lots of somber days. But he communicates well and even wrote a blog post to share soon.  Many times, I've noticed him go upstairs and start to play piano. I think it calms him down, and also helps him to fine tune his craft. He's a very gifted kid, and I get angry along with him when he yells "I just want my Dad!" I feel him, and he deserves his Dad.

Christian is continuing to excel at karate and in school, particularly math.  He got invited to an in-person audition in for a local film June so he's looking forward to that. Christian also got his first opportunity to volunteer for a vacation bible school in the area. Next month, he will be leading worship for the kindergarteners, which I know he will love.  Rough month for my sonny boy, though. More somber days coupled with a lot of confusion and sadness. He doesn't talk about it much, so his blog post was really a big deal.  I make sure to check on his heart often, and he does the same for me.   I know he is trying to make sense of his faith right now, but I'm so glad he is pressing in to it. As he put it "I love Jesus, I know God is real, but I'm mad." 

Amira has had a few more days this month where she has cried out for Daddy, and I wasn't expecting that. Mostly though, she is happy, bright and kind of bossy.  This month she started going to each person saying "Go 'head, PRAY!" And because she is who she is, we stop whatever we are doing and eek out whatever prayer we can.  God is still using this little therapy baby.  I was having a brutally hard moment and she just started singing "He is FOR you, He is FOR you" from the song The Blessing. She sang it over and over and over again. My one year old , unprompted, sang over me in my despair.  I've witnessed God use her before, and this time was no exception. Amira is very independent and has mastered speaking in full, complete sentences. My favorite thing to hear her say is, "I love you so much mommy, K?"

Kendall is definitely is a bright spot in this situation.  She inherited many things from her dad, and one of my favorites is, her ability to start each day afresh believing that she will see the goodness of the Lord.  She prays every night for everyone who was at "Dad's heaven party." Every single night. We were going to start her in a leadership program at the Y but it got postponed. So we will be signing her up for various volunteer opportunities and then volleyball camp in the late summer. She did get an opportunity to take some classes at the Y and go shopping with a friend and enjoyed it.  She is always finding the light and sharing fun stories about her Dad, hopefully she will blog more this summer as well. 

Me: This month started out with me doing one of the hardest of things: Going back to our church and sharing the instructions that Patrick gave me regarding our ministry, before his passing.  (I will post that story and the speech at another time.) But this month there were several bright spots.  I can honestly say that I have felt God wipe away my tears and hold the pieces of my heart together on many occasions. At other times, I've fallen completely apart in disbelief. Like "what.just.happened?" One of the good things was receiving my first direct client as a loan signing agent. Not only was the closing successful, but I received my first five-star rating.  It felt like God personally set up a much-needed win...and I'll take all of them that I can get.

                                     

                                                  *All Photos used with permission

Celebrating the Wins; Every Single One

Yesterday was a rainy, dreary day. The kind of day that lends no light to our struggly situation. But I woke with a burden to share the wins with all of the prayer warriors. I am so humbled by the creative ways people have found to bless us during this season. But for those who ask, "What do you need?" I reply, "Please don't stop praying. I don't want to know how this feels without the covering of the prayers of God's people." So, here are those wins and answered prayers:

• THE BABIES ARE SINGING!!!

If you read the very first blog post, you will know exactly why that statement above is bolded and in all caps. A young lady who is a super talented, music aficionado has a music studio and teaches my littles. The way she seems to show up in the nick of time to be a blessing is why I've often dubbed her our "manifested angel." Elijah and Joy will be playing their piano pieces and the other kiddos will be singing. We hope to stream it live from our ministry's Facebook page or record and post it afterwards.  

• Being Honored in the Community 

 A community partner reached out to me to create and organize an award and dedication in Patrick's honor.  A few months ago, I was not ready to even discuss it. She was very gracious, and this week I was able to do a hard thing by finalizing the details.  I pressed on and assisted with the planning and found it to be mildly therapeutic. It felt like a part of my "old normal."  We truly love the community, and he was always looking forward to every opportunity to share love, laughs and an encouraging word with others.  So, to know that someone wanted to honor his legacy in this way truly blessed me at a time that I needed all of the beautiful things. 

• The Book is Ready
  

Today I received word from our publisher that Patrick's book of devotions is ready for print! The team has been a godsend and very encouraging throughout this process.  Their patience and professionalism have been a bright spot during this time of confounding darkness.  I will post later on the backstory of this work.  Just to see something new springing forth from this...I don't even know what to call it...brings me measured joy. To see his words, stories and admonitions is life-giving. 

The Symbolism of the Pot-by Kendall

Hey everyone, It's Kendall here!

I thought I would share with you an experience we had this past Thursday in grief group. It was family night, so we were all grouped together, and our little siblings, mom and Uncle Leon got to join in. For the activity, they gave us a clay pot which symbolized our life before the loss. They took us outside and asked us to drop it on the concrete symbolizing our now broken life. Next, we headed back inside and were instructed to take the pieces and write on the inside our feelings about the loss, and on the outside, what helped us to cope.  Now here comes the tricky part, they wanted us to piece the pot back together. We tried the entire time, and we could not put it all together again. People even came by to help, but we couldn’t figure it out.  Every other family’s pot was put together nicely but some of our pieces were dust at that point; making it nearly impossible to put back together. Our pot was dropped very hard, just like our life. It didn't take me long to say without knowing the depth of my words “I don’t think we will ever be able to put this pot back the way it was’’. Then it hit me, I was correct. The pot had reassured what we thought. Dad was a very crucial part in all of our lives, and without him our lives will never be the same. I have never seen a human love people as much as my dad, and I want to model him in that and in many other ways.  He loved everyone, no matter where you came from or your situation. Thank you all for taking the time to read this. I love each and everyone of you.

Family Updates For March

March has been a long, long, and eventful month. I wanted to give short updates on each of us. For all of the prayer warriors, thanks so much for keeping us lifted up. This month I think we all learned and appreciated even more the blessing of great family and friends.  Daily check-ins and meetups where we feel loved and safe to just be "us" is a true treasure, and a lifeline.  

A list of Beautiful Things

• We went to get the oil changed on the van, and when the manager learned of our story, they took care of the bill and gave us their condolences.  
• Last week we had a couple of therapy sessions that were early in the morning. We had to hit the drive through for breakfast twice, at two different spots, and both times the cars in front of us took care of our orders.  
• We were able to get switched to an office for play/art therapy for Ben & Joy. The provider linked up with another colleague to be able to offer her services In-Network. It's closer to us, a better setup for the waiting family members & is now covered by insurance. 
• We started a "Midweek Ministry" at our home on Wednesdays, where we make up bags of snacks and scriptures for the delivery drivers in our neighborhood.
• A Beautiful Friend went to Paris and brought us back some awesome souvenirs. 
• A close family friend came to take the boys for laser tag and some guy time.
• Tee Kan & Unc took the kids for fun times at the park and petting zoo
• The kids enjoyed our homeschool math unit study which included opening up their own savings accounts, learning about interest and investing in stocks.
• Kendall and I got a chance to do another Mommy & Daughter sushi date, talked and had a good time.

Family Updates

*Kendall shared with me and the therapist that she is feeling much more joy lately.  She believes that this is what Dad would want and says she feels the prayers working. That is a HUGE praise report for sure! She loves being with friends, reading and being creative. 

*Benjamin is loving riding his bike, responding well in play/art therapy, and started soccer this week! He said, "I made ALL the friends" and loved having us on the sidelines rooting him on. He also got his first big boy haircut!  Although he's sleeping a little better, he's having nightmares often. From my understanding, this is normal.

*Joy is praying aloud more and is also enjoying solo time with friends.  She is starting to open up more in therapy but is struggling with a lot of anger. She does look forward to kids' grief group.  Daddy was her world. Joy is pressing on in continuing to learn piano. Some days are very tough but I'm grateful for her teacher who is extremely understanding and kind. Joy also loves watching "Bake Squad".

*Max is growing in teen grief group and is talking more and more in individual therapy. He really enjoys Wednesday night youth church. He is missing his dad, ALOT. He and I talk every night via email and share scriptures and struggles trying to keep each other afloat.  He is a great helper around the house and takes frequent trips out to ride his hoverboard to clear his head.  Max is also very close to getting his first belt in Martial Arts, which he really enjoys. 

*It's been a good weekly break for Elijah to continue PE at the local school. Once a week he also sees their school counselor and seems to look forward to speaking with her and bringing home info and tips for the rest of us. This month has really hit Elijah hard, very hard.  Lots of triggers and down days. I'm thankful that he opens up to me, and we can cry together and laugh together as well.  He's still doing well in piano and is close to getting his first belt in Martial Arts.  Elijah enjoys video games and audio books about animals and nature.  

*Amira is continuing to perfect her skill of mimicking everyone in the house. She's very smart and also a little bossy. She is still our little comforting angel, gives many hugs and affectionately replies   " I love you TOO."

*Avielle is doing very well in martial arts; she was even helping to show a few newer kids the moves. She also looks forward to Wednesday night church and kids' grief group.  Avi has a tender heart and is very empathetic to other families in our situation which sometimes can be a hindrance when processing her own grief.  She did enjoy her first individual therapy session, but also struggles with some pinned up anger. 

*I don't have much of an update about myself right now. Other than the fact that I'm grateful to be surrounded by family, friends, counselors, pastors and prayer warriors because I have no words. 

This Sweet Baby

One of the ways that God has answered prayers for Supernatural comfort, has been with this sweet baby..number 7, Amira. Shortly after everything happened, she seemed to become a big girl overnight.  In the first couple of weeks during our nighttime meltdowns, she would rub our backs and say "It's okay" or "I know, I know" in her endearing little voice.  We knew she didn't understand exactly what was happening, but that God was using her to be a light.  The morning that he went into the hospital, it was like every other morning. Amira woke up and gave me and her Dad a fist bump. As a pandemic baby, this was her normal greeting, and it always brought a big smile to his face. Up until then, hearing "mama " was a rarity. She would wake up and go to sleep with a chorus of "Da-da”.

Shortly after Christmas, a very close family friend came see us before she flew back overseas. The previous time she visited it was a hard day.  But on this day at this moment, I was feeling peace and joy as I reminisced about some of our family's amazing adventures. We’d had so many people at the house, but I never felt compelled to ask anyone to pray for us, but on this day I did. Truthfully, even now prayer is touchy. Some nights the baby would wake up and ask for Daddy and then say to me "Mama, pray." Those nights were hard.  As we formed a circle, Baby Amira was excited to join, and grabbed hands with her siblings.  As our friend began to pray, she was completely overwhelmed with tears and became silent.  When she had no words, Amira chimed in with her baby language at the perfect time, with her eyes shut and ended with “May-man”. (Amen) We all looked up and knew that the Holy Spirit was truly in the midst.

Amira now greets every visitor with hugs, calls each sibling by name and has perfected her imitating skills. She loves to laugh, play outdoors, rap, and has an early obsession with shoes and beef jerky. The mornings have been almost too much to bear, but when she wakes up and says, “good morning mommy”, I have no choice but to thank God for placing a little angel by my bedside.

Counting the wins, well trying

I want to start out this post by giving a huge shout out to each and every one of the prayer warriors and our "village." There is not a day that goes by without several people checking on us, calling our names in prayer, and physically showing up to be hands-on to help our family. I am eternally grateful.  This week was crazy, unexpectedly busy, and the support of our community made all the difference.  Playdates, handyman help, meals, and short babysitting stints for overdue self-care.

This week was hellish. I'm not sure exactly why, but it was super busy and unexpectedly so.  Meetings, doctor appointments, hard things paired with the sheer fact that THIS MAKES NO SENSE really created a cyclone of cray cray.   Grief and triggers showed up in new ways. I'm sure that was part of it. Alas, here are some wins:

Joy learned to read music this week! She's only 5, but she is not only teaching herself to read, but she is also learning to read and play notes.

I interviewed a therapist specializing in art/play therapy with toddlers. She sent a proposed plan for Benji & Joy starting next week and I'm relieved to have found her. That search alone took almost every ounce of energy I had. 

We toured the local YMCA to see if the programs would benefit our family.  We got a special tour from the executive director who had a similar story of loss when he was only 11. So, his compassion and understanding for my kiddos was truly appreciated.  

One of our family/community advocates recommended a specialized kids grief group back in December. We were on a wait list and were told we couldn't start until March. We got a call on Thursday that we were moved up and could start that night. Elijah, Avielle, and Joy had an amazing time. It was exactly what they needed. I was glad that something worked.

Kendall, Max, and I are signed up for GriefShare at one of our partner churches which is similar to the kids' group but for adults and teens.  This will be a delicate situation in the fact that, the three of us are empaths. I'm wondering how we will function in a group setting, feeling safe to share but also resisting the compulsion to take on the stories and sadness of others.  

Max, Elijah, Avielle & Joy just joined a local Martial Arts Class at the Homeschool Co-op.  I think it would be great to get out some of that "big energy" that builds up during this season.  The instructor is very skilled and also gave a short bible study in the beginning of class.   This is a double win, because last week I took the girls to try the same class. It was the first time they'd driven past the hospital where we dropped Daddy off when he first felt the pain in his chest. Seeing it again triggered them and they couldn't even participate. They were so shaken up. So this week, we tried again, took the brothers along and it was a success.

The Littles

 One of the trickiest situations to navigate is helping the littles. They don't comprehend the concept, but then again...I'm not sure I do either.  Their emotions are all over the place; at times they're angry, other times they're comforting and cuddly. One thing that makes it more difficult is that even at the ages of 18 months, 3 years, and nearly 6, they are all mature for their ages.  So, I never know what they're going to say, comprehend, or interpret.  Benji in particular, has been one who's taking it the hardest. It's been eighty-two nights since Daddy put him to sleep as he did almost every single night since he was born on 10/16. Patrick's birthday is 10/17- definitely bosom buddies.  

But today, Benji was excited about going to Wednesday Night Kids Worship at a local church.  He got to be in a class with his peers, worship, sing songs, play games, and even made a card for the sick and shut in.  I peeked in just in time to see him being the line leader! He was standing up straight and walking proud in his new shark shirt that he picked out.  For that moment, I was thankful.  He came home and then asked to see pictures of him and Dad at the playground.  Although some of the rest of us had another struggle day, the smile on his face made my heart happy. 

  

Here it goes, I'm starting

 Today is the day I'm starting. This won't be pretty, or witty but it will be raw and authentic. A while ago, the kids wanted to start a vlog or a youtube channel. And although we agreed that our family has a pretty interesting life, we wanted to live it instead of film it.  However, Patrick would always joke that mid filming I'd yell some outrageous threat at the kids, and we'd have to cut and start over. He was right.  Serving with Seven was his idea for a title, so this is our attempt.  Due to the outpouring of love, support, and prayers going up on our behalf, I felt that a blog may be a more efficient way of updating all of the beautiful people who think of us.  

I will try my best to update as often as I can, but it may or may not go in order.  Please feel free to share this link and thanks in advance for praying.

Yesterday, we had check ups for Avielle and Benjamin.  I woke up that morning feeling as “Struggly” as I did going to sleep the night before.  I try to make it a point to get out of the house by 10:30am for my mental health . So I got up, got everyone out of the house and headed to the doctor. When we got in the car, we cued up “Keys for Kids” our devotional.  We’ve done our very best to keep doing the things that we usually do including devotional, and nightly prayer, in spite of the fact that we are truly just….devastated.  We put on the devotional, and it was about how it feels when someone pays your debt, or takes your punishment. Specifically, in the event of Jesus Christ taking on our sins. It was a good one.  We pulled up to the doctor in record time. Usually when we would go to the doctor, we would all go in as a group no matter who was being seen.  To pass the time and to prepare for possible vaccinations, we would sing worship songs.  The staff had gotten used to it, and would sometimes stand and listen at the door and wait for us to finish before coming in.  After everything happened, we just didn’t have it in us. As I pulled up to the doctor, I looked back at the kids and said “I need you all to come in with me, I feel like we need to sing.” Max specifically looked at me like “No, not gonna do that.” I then told them, “I don’t want to do it either, I just feel like we have to. We must be who we are called to be. We have to minister to the people in the doctor’s office.” This was the Holy Spirit, nothing in me wants to sing songs. They all sound very different without Patrick, to be very honest. (Another Blog for another day)

Once we got there, I had already determined that I was going to forgo any shots because my heart was already hurting, and I couldn’t take any more crying babies. Medical things have been extremely touchy with me/us as of late.    After everyone got their vitals checked, I asked the kids to sing with me.  Again, most of them were reluctant. The tears started to flow as I explained to them, that I didn’t want to do it, but I felt that we needed to.  So Avielle chose to start singing “Your promise still stands, great is your faithfulness….” (Elevation Worship , Do it Again) I began to weep.  I sang that song to Patrick in the hospital, and God did not “Move the Mountain” as I pleaded.  All of the other kids joined in, Max being the loudest.  I joined when I could, and then cried some more.  I knew God was faithful, even though I was angry, shocked and sad.  After we sang, I felt God’s comfort and peace.  We got shots and labs drawn, with little tears.  The doctor came in and she’s been seeing us for 7 years, so I feel very comfortable and safe with her.  I let her know that it had been a rough morning, but that God was gracious. 

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