I Don't Feel Like A Widow Everyday....Four Years Later.

  I don't feel like a widow everyday. But everyday I feel out of place. I keep showing up for this life that looks absolutely nothing like I thought it would. Nothing.  Nowhere in my wildest nightmares or deepest fears, did I ever see myself living this life without my ride-or-die. It didn't fit the narrative.  Two people put together by God, finished college, got married, bought a house,  started a family in love, and encouraged others in Christ to then become forever fractured.   This sucks. Even four years later, I'm still utterly confused as to how this was next.  

Today was heavy. December is looming over our heads. Something in my heart tells me that if December tarries, then it won't be really four years. Because how can it be four years ago that I got the worst, most unexpected news of my life? We were sitting in that waiting room, praying. Visiting every day and night, just waiting for God to do his "big one" for the one who loved Him most.  We all called Patrick, "God's favorite." Knowing him for over 20 years, I can firsthand tell you that his only desire was to make God proud. I had never seen something so pure, up close, in my life. So for him to be gone feels mean, and unsettling. And mainly unnecessary.

As I drove through parts of our old town today, I had a flashback of the visceral pain during those first weeks and months after we lost Patrick.  I remembered how I felt like my actual heart was bleeding. I was gasping for air and just trying to get through each day so that I could get back to my real life. 'Cause this wasn't it.  So much guttural  screaming and weeping mixed with sheer disbelief filled that space in time. Although I don't feel that type of pain anymore, I can't say that this year four pain is less. It's different.  My nerve endings are coming back.  The shock is finally wearing off, and I feel lost in this life that feels like it's betraying me. 

In the first year I screamed often at God, "What am I supposed to do with this? Literally, WHAT? All of the ministry I've lived, all of the theology I've learned and taught, there was no scripture for how "this" was good, or God's plan.  How is it not God's plan to raise seven little disciples with two parents who loved and lived for Christ? That ain't in no chapter, of any book.  And as we approach the fourth anniversary of Patrick's death I'm still stunned.  A few months after losing Pat my oldest son cried out during prayer, "Lord I know you don't make mistakes but this just might be your first one." 

As we are nearing the days inching closer to the dreaded December 10th, I've been overwhelmed and honestly in a panic.  I don't want it to be four years. I don't want to be heartbroken until I die. I don't want to be barely making it at the end of every single week. Exhausted, exasperated , fragile and fully consumed by a life that I didn't want, yet still having to fight the good fight. My God. 

Earlier this week, I did something that took three years to do...I went back to our beach. The first time I tried, for his birthday in 2022 it didn't go well. This time my body was aching for a getaway, and I had the notion to do something brave. So thanks to a wonderful family friend, we booked a quick getaway. I watched the sunset and I couldn't help but think "I don't feel like a Widow today." But I looked to my right, at the resort where we spent so much wonderful family time over the years and swore I could hear Patrick's laughter. He should be here. He should be on the sand with his babies.  He should be watching the sunset with his bride.  And although every day I don't feel like a widow, every hour my heart misses him and longs for what should have been.

-Keisha 

The Shock Has Worn Off: Patrick Keeps NOT Coming Back

 I'm broken as I type this.  All of the "it will get better with time" comments were simply not true. With time, my five year old realizes that she won't be a baby ever again.  As a baby, she saw her Dad every day and was with him every night. But she's growing up, and she's noticing that life moves forward, and keeps moving even without her Daddy. We cannot access Patrick. There are no more hugs, ever. There are no more laughs, no new photos. I'm completely devastated.  Time only has created a chasm that no one can close. A gaping hole in our lives, that is inescapable. And we build, and grow, and build, and grow and still he is not here to celebrate with us.  He won't be able to laugh at Christian's jokes.  He won't be able to measure Elijah's height against his.  He won't be able to watch them lead worship, or perform in their first play.  He won't be able to walk into Amira's classroom to pick her up.  He won't be able to compete in the "Dads Game" with Benjamin.  He won't be able to take Joy & Avielle on any more Daddy-daughter Dates.  He won't be able to walk his oldest daughter Kendall across the stage at graduation.  This is grief. This is real. It's not a one time event. Patrick's absence fills every crevice.  And as their mom, solo, I have to prepare for the moments. The moments when it "hits them", over and over again. 

Learn more about the work that's keeping us going,Legacy Work :Foundation

Barbershops & Breakdowns

 As we sat here preparing for Hurricane Milton, I received an automated message from a Barber in the area. Early on, I remember trying to find a new barber for the boys. How would I be able to take them back to the man who had cut Patrick's hair? It was right across the street from the hospital that issued me the most devastating blow of my life.  So, I had to find a new one. 

My first interaction with a barber was a few days after losing Patrick. I couldn't and hadn't' absorbed what was happening, but I knew my kids needed to look good. I remembered a company that offered mobile cuts, and I called him before the funeral, and he pulled right up in front of my house.  He had a full shop inside of a gutted FedEx truck. It was quite impressive. But after all the hoopla, after all the families had gone home...I faced the daunting task of taking the boys to a new barber. It was horrible.

What I didn't know, was that the new barber was in the mall. The mall is probably one of the top 5 most triggery places in this city. I HATE the mall.  Incredibly TOO many memories there; it was our hangout spot as a whole family. We often went as Patrick loved shopping for the kids, getting pretzels and haircuts. Back to the new barber. He was slow, he didn't know my kids, and I thought I would die.  But Christian had been booked to shoot a spot for ABC Mouse, and I could no longer put it off. Although I made two appointments for both boys, I had to leave after it took over an hour for one cut.  The rest of that day was a blur. 

After that experience, I knew I had a decision to make. Christian had another shoot and needed his hair cut badly. I asked if he was okay going back to Daddy's barber, and he said yes. We walked in, and Mr. Mike looked like he wanted to cry, but I watched him excitedly greet my son. To this day, I know he has no idea how much that meant to me.  He gently handled my husband. Patrick always came home so pumped after being at the barber. He loved Mike. He loved the conversations, and his heart for his family. Patrick was always a champion of people. As our good friend and Pastor Melody always says, "Patrick left us better than he found us."

So now, the boys go solo or my Brother -in-law takes them for me. It's the place where Benji got his first big boy haircut.  I can imagine how Mike must feel, watching them sit in his chair, month after month, year after year, growing into young men without Patrick.  This loss is so unfair. It's not just one person. It's not just one experience. It's a string of events and moments that he won't be here for. And this makes NO sense. It never will.

Our Finale Turned Four: The End of an Era

Benjamin started it off. Even at five years old, his heart is tender for his siblings and their grief.  He woke up yesterday morning, and he began to cry. "I don't want the baby to grow up, Mommy." It was so sweet, but also very sad.  That's how we all feel. This is the last Wheeler Baby. The Finale. Up until today, I had never had a four year old without another toddler in tow.  This is an end of an era, and I had no idea it was coming.  Many people were taken aback when they learned how many children we were parenting, but they soon fell in love with them all and understood the gift. 

These kids are so easy to love.  It's  painful to know that there is an ache that I cannot soothe for them. They miss and need their Dad.  Watching them grow, mature and develop without Patrick here feels...I can't quite explain it. What was meant to be the gift of a full quiver, now feels like a giant, heavy cross to bear. How can I keep them healed, whole, and happy by myself? This feels more like a punishment than  a privilege. 

I would cry a billion tears for Patrick, and that seems like it would be easier than trying to solo parent in his shadow.  I love these children. He loved these children. They are indeed the very best of Patrick and I.  But today a chapter ended, and I have no idea what the next one holds. Our last baby. The last of me and Patrick has turned four.  The finale is four. 

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.

Fall Family Update

 The fall season has been hard and mean.  So, I’m thankful for your continued prayers and support.  It all started with our move from Brandon to Valrico in the beginning of August.  Although it’s only about a 12-minute drive between the houses, we were leaving the last place where our family was whole. I must be fully honest, moving as a solo mom of seven kids and making all those decisions myself, even picking up the U-Haul alone -almost broke me.  However, the move was necessary, and downsizing has been very helpful. Not waking up in the “house that I didn’t bring Patrick home to”, provided a little more breathing room in the suffocating grief. We are still close enough to all our extracurriculars, church, friends, family, therapists, etc.

In addition to adjusting to the new place, August was full of trigger days.  Our 18^th wedding anniversary, Elijah’s birthday being two of the hardest.  We took a while to adjust to our new schedule was a wild ride initially.  I feel like I spent much of my time in the car because we still have co-op homeschool classes, therapy, gymnastics/karate, church and outreach.  Joy and Benjamin started school for the first time at an awesome little Lutheran school and even though there are some beautiful additions, the demands of their schedule threw off our usual easygoing pace of life. We also had an opportunity to do something new, and we visited a local “smash room” where the oldest kids were outfitted in safety gear and allowed to smash and break things in a designated room.  The smaller kids and I got to crank up music and splatter and throw paint in the adjoining glow in the dark room. I don’t think that people understand how much pinned up anger and anguish we all have inside of us.  So to be given this safe outlet was very necessary, after a long sorrowful summer without their Dad.  Overall, we made it through the month with some joy amidst the pain and for that we are always grateful.

September was a whole ‘nother beast. My goodness! Our schedules were in full speed, we were still trying to get a rhythm. Thankfully we had a quick getaway for Elijah’s birthday, and I believe it gave us all a boost. Kendall had her first interview, where she was chosen to be an outreach volunteer for the Pregnancy Center in Plant City, as she is passionate about Pro-life causes.  She had no idea, that this was my passion as well and I worked at a Pregnancy crises center in college all the way up until my pregnancy with her.  The babies started gymnastics, and it was Amira’s very first extracurricular activity and after a few tears, she enjoyed her class. Separation anxiety has been huge this month for many of the kids. 

And here we are in October. I feel offended that the year is almost over, and Patrick is not here. Thankfully, we started off the month with a bang with a visit from his little sister Krislyn, her husband (who we hooked her up with), and their two kids. Seeing my niece and nephew have cousin time with my kids was beautiful. However, just still unbelievable that their proud Uncle Pat wasn’t with us.  We spent time on the beach, they came to our home, we took them to our favorite parks and out for ice cream.  It was a true blessing to love on them and be loved.

Then we were blessed with tickets to see Elevation Worship in the VIP seats at the Amalie Arena, the four oldest kids went with close friends of ours and they had a blast.  My sister and brother-in-law took the little ones to Chuck E. Cheese so I could have a couple hours to myself. On top of it all, we hit another milestone where Kendall went to her FIRST DANCE! The Homeschool Homecoming of 2023 was a great experience for her, and we had friends and family show up to see her off. She looked beautiful and handled herself like the beautiful young lady she’s growing into. She said she danced for hours.

 The next major move this month was the starting of our Peer Grief Support Group, Hand in Hand.  The kids helped me to create the structure, choose volunteers, pick curriculum and activities, and even went to tour the church with me.  We had our first official meeting on Tuesday 10/10, which also marked the 22^nd month since we lost Patrick. It was truly an honor to do something new and beautiful on that day.  We built something new on this side of our loss, and that means so much for our grief journey. Our families and volunteers showed up early and eager to walk this road together. 

The next big thing is a celebration we are having this Sunday 10/15 that will be a combination of celebrating four years in ministry and New Life Village’s “Fishers of Men” award, given in Patrick’s honor.  I intentionally planned this on the 15^th, because the 16^th is Benji’s 5^th birthday, and the 17^th would have been Patrick’s 41^st birthday. So, trying to do life-giving things that would honor God and Patrick is how we are getting through this.  We are so grateful for your prayers and ask that you will keep them coming, they make a difference.  I usually update our Instagram at least once a day, if you would follow us @servingwith7 that would be great.  Our Peer Support Group is on Instagram as well @hand_in_hand_brandon

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. 

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.

If April Showers Bring May Flowers...I'll Take 'Em

    April was an interesting month. It seemed to fly by, but it definitely made sure to leave a lasting impression.  There were some absolutely beautiful, proud moments; and for those we thank God.  However, there were some experiences that made our grief ultra heavy this past month. All in all, we made it.

    The end of April marked the close of our first ever Homeschool Co-Op School year.  We have homeschooled the kids since 2012 when Kendall was a Kindergartener.  Now she is a rising Sophomore in High School.  It was truly a joy to unite with other families with homeschoolers of all ages who loved Jesus and were excited to learn.  It was honestly also cool to see that parenting/homeschooling can have crazy unpredictable times as well.  The kids were elated to get up every Tuesday and go learn, laugh, and lunch with their peers. It's truly been one of the highlights of the past year.  

    The kids have truly enjoyed Wednesday Night worship at our local church.  Having a routine whenever possible is so crucial.  Of all the kids, I think Benji enjoys his time best.  He loves craft time, making friends, and learning new worship songs. Unfortunately, the church takes a break from May-August for their Wednesday programming, so I'll have to look into alternatives to keep the kids looking forward to some midweek fun.  I got a special call from the Kid's Pastor that truly uplifted me and encouraged me to "keep on bringin' 'em."

    Five of the kids got to start back karate at the homeschool resource center.  Benjamin had patiently waited until he was four years old to join the clan. They had a blast! Not only did they learn, grow, and have some excellent guidance from Mr. Jon, every single one of them ended the semester with a promotion! Elijah & Christian are now Blue Belts, Avielle & Joy are now green belts, and Benji is officially a yellow belt! I still say that involving them in karate has been one of my best decisions after our loss. 

    Our second Easter was dreadful, to be completely honest.  There was no way I could have saw it coming.  Something about the color-coordinated families, Jesus being raised from the dead, etc... just didn't feel like a celebration. I'm so thankful for friends and family who stepped in to take the kids to do all of the traditional things this year to keep their minds occupied, because I was a broken mess. Because although Jesus was raised from the dead, He also died. And that was where we were stuck for the moment.  

    We continued our second round of birthdays, Joy's on the 15th and my sister's on the 19th.  The kids and I definitely felt it. Even the older boys, I noticed because quite somber.  Some of the kids became really overactive.  As we anticipated celebrating yet another birthday without Patrick.  We had a last-minute gathering with family and a few close friends. One of my boys said, "I'm sorry I just don't feel like celebrating." I assured him and replied, "I think celebrating is a strong word. Today, we are commemorating, the day that this beautiful little tiebreaker, came into our lives."

    Play dates with friends, meetings with their mentors, fun class projects, birthday parties, spring basketball camp, meeting our new eye doctor, our first yard sale and volunteering at the food bank filled our calendars with beautiful things for April. We count all of the wins, great and small.  But to close out the month, we took the five younger kids to the Memorial Gardens for the first time, to officially see Patrick's "ornament." I'll have to post about that at another time, I'm still processing it.  

Community Clock In: The Best NEIGHBORS

 

Last night, the kids and I pulled into the driveway  from an evening playground run.  This has been our custom for as long as I can remember.  Most of our neighbors have dogs and they take them for their evening walk past our house on a regular basis. It's almost like clockwork.

I pulled in and let the kids go inside while I stayed in the car to catch my breath before clocking in to the bedtime shift of struggly solo parenting. I saw our neighbor, Matt, walking his two dogs, but then saw him cross in front of the van and come toward me.

"I know we usually don't talk, but we're moving and I wanted to know if you guys could use an extra long twin bed," he said. I explained to him that we had more beds than kids in our house which was a blessing and that we were getting ready to move also , this summer.  I inquired more about his move as he began to tell me that he and his wife had raised their son, and would now be moving to some acres they'd bought in Georgia.  After giving him my card and agreeing to help find someone who may be interested in the furniture, I went into my house and began to cry uncontrollably. 

My kids ran up to me and started giving me endless hugs.  Finally they asked, "what's wrong mom? What happened." I was taken aback by my own response. I yelled out, "Matt is moving away." The kids were confused as to why I cared this much about a man I'd never spoken with. But, this neighbor was the very first perso that Patrick met and interacted with when we moved here in 2021.  He took the kids for a walk and met Matt and his two dogs.  For the rest of the months that he was on this earth, he would acknowledge Matt and his dogs. Matt's connection to Patrick was something that I had no idea would hit me the way it did. Another thing, that is close to Patrick, that ties Patrick to us is going away. That unexpected trigger almost broke me.  Grief is like that. You really never know.

I decided to take this opportunity after my meltdown last night to gush about our amazing neighbors. This is our first time living in a neighborhood as opposed to a subdivision.  Since day one, these have been the finest and most helpful people we've come to know.  When Patrick was in the hospital, immediately after his surgery, we could come home to snacks, and drinks on our doorsteps.  People would constantly check in.  When my sister told my neighbors across the street that he had passed, they stood there crying and consoling each other.  They couldn't believe it. "I spoke to him one time. One time was all it took. He changed my life." That was the sentiment of many.  We had only been here about four months before Patrick's passing.  He made it a point to walk around the entire cul-de-sac to introduce himself and our family to the neighbors. He spent his life as an outreach pastor, corporate trainer, and established salesman. So, meeting people where they were, was his speciality.

In the days leading up to and after the celebration of life, I would come home to dinners, diapers, wipes, trash bags, groceries, drinks, etc. Every day for a long while, the neighbors took care of us. I remember on Christmas day, one of our neighbors walked over first thing in the morning with flowers for me and a kind note.  She was one of many.  On Christmas morning, people were leaving their families to come console ours.  I'm getting teary eyed typing this, because that level of beauty in humanity was something I so desperately needed.    

Several neighbors came over and brought additional chairs for my family to use and they visited. Another neighbor volunteered to take my kid to volleyball practice when I was simply overwhelmed with grief and anxiety and couldn't bring myself to drive. When Patrick was here, he would always fix the blinds.  I could never do it and I would get very anxious and frustrated.  When I didn't get to bring him home from the hospital, I realized that I was stuck with no one to help with the blinds.  One of my neighbors and her husband came over and adjusted them all for me and told me they'd be over to do it as often as I needed it.

There are so many stories of the beautiful people in this neighborhood showing up for me ,and perhaps it's the fact that we'll have to be leaving soon that I'm finally able to share these memories. After one very tough birthday, I had taken the kids on a quick overnight trip to Orlando.  This was the first boy to celebrate a birthday without their Dad, and it was HEAVY.  I cried almost the whole way home.  I knew that I needed to get gas but I was afraid that if I stopped, I wouldn't get back started and we'd be stuck in whatever town we were in.   So I made it all the way  back home but the tank was on E.  When I started the car later that afternoon to take Christian to basketball practice, of course it wouldn't crank.  One of my neighbors walked down to me, in the rain, and helped me and Christian to pour gas from our gas can into the tank. We were all wet from the rain and gas was leaking everywhere, as it was a new gas can that Patrick got us and I wasn't familiar with how to use it.  She didn't care.  She stayed there to help and even called to check on me to make sure I made it to the gas station. 

These stories ,these neighbors, this neighborhood will always have a special place in my heart.  Although I'm ready to move, I'm also anxious.  Leaving what has felt like a caring community to an unknown place without Patrick's seems daunting.  Everything is so bittersweet. I'll never forget their kindness, and I'll always be inclined and inspired by them to pay it forward.  

How is it already March? Spring Don't Mean A Thing

    I was on the phone with a sister who is dealing with a similar loss. I kept screaming, "How is it March? How is it already March of 2023?" Time is mean. And yes, I'm still screaming. How is it spring? How did we already have our first Wheeler Kid birthday of the year?  Where is Pat? How can we do this, another year without our person?

    I'm not ready for spring.  I drove past two home improvement stores, and they had all of the fresh, new, vibrant florals out on display. But there is no way any beautiful flowers will come from this. I'm not ready for spring. I vividly remember the pain and shock of our first spring after losing our person.  It was volatile, gut wrenching, and downright terrible.  

    How are we doing? For me, there are still daily breakdowns, gut punches of "reality", and just times when I laugh because I can't understand how this was really the move. How was THIS what God had next for us? As for my beautiful, brave, kind children-they're doing their best.  Although they still have meltdowns where they scream shout and cry; they are less frequent.  But, instead there are constant mood and behavior changes that highlight the sheer horror of being a grieving, solo parent.

    I can tell when they're sad or struggling because they will become argumentative, impatient, easily distracted, unmotivated and anxious.  So then, I have to put on my therapy mom hat and decide whether to cuddle, comfort or correct in those moments. Nothing could have prepared me for this. Making parenting decisions on my own, without Patrick has truly been one of the worst parts of this whole thing.  I was never meant to do this alone.

    We talk about Patrick every day, all day. I don't think that will change; I hope it doesn't.  I played a video the other day and his voice coming from the speakers of the laptop just...overwhelmed me. Because why is he not here? Everyone needs Patrick's voice, encouragement, laugh, and perspective.  I'm grateful for all of the people who call or text just to tell me a story about him, or to simply say, "I miss Pat, and I hate this."  It's been 15 month to the day that we rushed him to the hospital and the daily check-ins, meals, gifts, and gift cards have continued to come in.  Although we hate this situation, the outpouring of love is absolutely beautiful. 

    So I think, for me, my struggle is "how?" How do we keep pushing? What does this actually look like. As my 6 year old screamed a few weeks ago, "Why did you do this to US, God? Why Us?" I felt that in my soul. We're taking it day by day, moment by moment.  Trying to do things that work for us. Slowing down in some spaces, rediscovering and embracing others. 

I've been posting daily updates on Instagram, you can follow us @servingwith7.

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 . 

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*

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 thought it would be getting better": Honest & Beautiful Weekend Moments

I talked with a friend yesterday and she confessed, " I thought it would be getting better but it seems to be getting worse." She's a great friend, and very perceptive.  Her kids are also still struggling with this loss, like many of us. They even pray for my littles at night, specifically. I'm so grateful for our village, even the tiniest prayer warriors. I know everyone's grief journey is different but I'm telling you this...it's NOT getting better. It is indeed getting worse. As we are slowly realizing that maybe this is not dream, or a cruel prank. We're not trapped inside some warped video game, this is real. Today, as we headed out for our new tradition "Sundae Sundays", Kendall said to me, "It's the fact that I won't be able to see him in this world, in this life, on this side that really makes me sad." Even typing that, I'm squinting in confusion. How is this so? Like how? 

Max opened up today and he and I have also had several poignant conversations this weekend. One of my favorites was when he told a specific story (I'll let him share) about how his dad was very efficient at maximizing opportunities.  humble his Dad was. "He never said "I'm the greatest Dad in the world" he just was."  I'm extremely grateful for the legacy of humility that Patrick left for us and for the world.  Max was the first to declare that his future kids would refer to Patrick as GrandPat. So, when he talks about the stories he'll tell them, he uses that moniker.  In a time where my son is coming of age, he needs his Dad. I watched him walk onto a playground court and join in on a pick-up basketball game.  He's growing up, but Pat's not here.   

I recalled how Patrick would pray over me every morning. I'd feel his heavy hand land on my shoulder, or my head, as he would silently pray and then I'd hear "Amen." Off to work he would go, or upstairs to pray if he was working from home.  He was so very consistent. We all remember him praying over us. We've also been reflecting this weekend about how he was the "calm". Kendall has some "hypochondriac tendencies", and she was telling me the story of how calmly Patrick would assure her. "He made me feel safe." Even sweet little Amira still asks for her Dad. She is still nursing, and the only child to nurse past the age of 16 months.  Mostly because I've only ever successfully weaned the children with Pat's help. 

Somehow, he managed to be an excellent human being, all while pointing us to the Source.  And even that, makes this harder to grasp.  His humility, kindness, and infectious personality has touched us all. Yet he never made it about him; always about Him. So, we're wrestling this weekend. There have been extreme highs and lows.  There are no platitudes, no scriptures, no number of casseroles that can help.  This just sucks. 

September 18, 2022

Pouring Passionately : Father & Sons

I have often thought about the conversations that Patrick and I had about the children, so many of them. The ones that have particularly stood out to me as of late, are the ones where he would say to me "Sometimes, you're not going to understand what or why when I'm dealing with our sons and that's okay. Some of these are men to men things."  Most of the time, I bowed out.  Although sometimes I wanted to interject, I knew his heart and that I didn't know what it was like to be a father, or a son."

I took notice very early on after our loss at how mature our boys were. They stepped up, big time. I realized that although I was devastated, and still am, that they don't have Patrick here for guidance, he truly did an excellent job of pouring into them and training them to be young men of God.  There are lingering lessons that he taught and ways that he modeled for them that were beyond their years. He laid a rich foundation. When I see them walking out their faith and displaying godly and chivalrous virtues, it makes this seem somewhat bearable. I also recognize the gift of God in giving us such full, intense, lively years of intentional parenting together.  

Patrick was always down for an adventure. I'd research something, plan it and say, "alright Babe, today you guys are doing xyz." He never complained, he just grabbed the kids and set off while I stood by capturing all of the moments in pictures.  I can't remember what research led me to this devotional, "Called to Greatness" but when I did Patrick fell in love with it.  Night after night, he sat down with the boys and had time of devotion.  He taught them about faith, fellowship and family.  It was such a good time of study and enlightenment; they went through it twice and even gifted it to a few other families.  It's things like this that I hold dear, the images of my husband "breaking bread" as he called it with his sons. Making this load for me, today, a little lighter. Even in his absence, he's still a giver.

Keep The Flowers Comin'

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

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

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

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