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. 

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

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

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

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

Blessings & Peace,

Keisha L. Wheeler