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. 

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

He was just here: Story of Two Photos

For the past week I've been working on photo projects, and I came across these two ...for a second time.  A few months ago, I saw these and I honestly didn't know how to process it. I still don't. One of the things I'm so grateful for, is the fact that I took photos and videos of almost everything.  But in the process, I learned to take several quick snaps in order to capture the right moment.  Often, I was trying to simply get all of the kids to look at the camera at the same time.  On this day, Patrick took the kids fishing. It was one of many times; he loved to fish.  Almost every time, it would take us forever to get set up only for one of the kids to have to potty and the whole trip would be a wrap. Or they would start arguing and scare the fish away.  They didn't understand that the entire pastime was predicated on peace, stillness, patience and quiet. The kids were just happy to be with their dad, doing anything.  And thankfully, I was in the background recording the moments.  

When I looked back at the photos, I realized that I snapped them a few milliseconds apart.  In one, Patrick hadn't yet walked into the frame and then in the other he had just walked in. But Avielle is in the same spot. Scrolling through the pics in reverse, it seems like one second, he was there, and the next he wasn't.  This is painful, this still feels mean and wrong. One day Avielle said, "God heard Dad telling me that he couldn't wait to babysit my kids when I grew up, and He still took HIM!" 

Counseling, Coping & Community: 6 Month Update

When people ask how we are doing, there is still no answer for that. Hopefully, the blog posts give a good indication of how we can be all over the place and in the same exact place on any given day. This makes no sense to us, but God is providing grace, love, support, comfort and continually meeting our tangible needs.  For that, we are grateful. Most people tell us to "expect a drop off in support as people will go on about their lives." But I cannot tell you how blessed I am to say that in our case, this isn't true. The support has been unending. 

In addition to our family and our close friends, here is a snapshot of what we have in place to help us along this uncharted and undesirable path.

Extracurricular Activities: (weekly) We are currently transitioning for the summer, but I have enrolled the kids in several creative and athletic outlets to get out their "big energy" and honestly give them something to look forward to.   Christian, Elijah, Avielle and Joy are enjoying and excelling in karate.  Benjamin is in gymnastics. We take Amira to open gymnastics, and she will be doing soccer in the fall.  Kendall starts art class next week and will try volleyball camp this summer.  Christian is still acting, and all of the kids will be participating in Vacation Bible School either as volunteers or participants.  Avielle and Elijah are set for Kid's worship camp where they will learn to sing, write and run the tech for worship service.  Boys are also trying their hand at basketball this summer at the Y.  Since all the kids love the water, swim lessons will be a high priority again this summer. 

Counseling: (Weekly)We currently have two different counseling setups. One is a Christian Counseling Group we've been seeing since the week of the Memorial Service.  I try to get in biweekly myself, and depending on the children and their needs, I will cycle them through on the other appointments.  The oldest four usually rotate in, depending on either their choice or observed behaviors/grief patterns during the week.  They have been very understanding and accommodating and we are grateful that it's close to our home.  In addition, the younger kids see a counselor who specializes in play/art therapy for younger children. I got to interview her via phone a few months back and was instantly impressed with her knowledge and her warmth. Avielle saw her for the first-time last week and told me that her time was helpful. As a backup, I also have a telehealth counseling service should the need arise.

Kid's Grief Group: (Bi-monthly) At the end of May was the last grief group for the kids until August. It was bittersweet as everyone seemed sad to say goodbye, the staff and counselors have been a godsend.  It was a short stint for us, so I think that even my kiddos were struggling as another one of their activities was coming to an end. Grief doesn't seem to take a moment off, so trying to navigate this through these months will be interesting. I'm thankful that they have another family event scheduled for July. It will be great to see everyone again.  Since we homeschool year-round, the "summer off" rhythm that many others seem to follow isn't familiar to us. I'll be back to update on what we find to fill this space, soon.

Church Community: I'm proud to say that we have four churches whose communities are united in serving and undergirding our family during this time.  This is what we call "the Body of Christ, being the Body of Christ", and I'm so honored and grateful for the covering. Some members provide biblical teaching and fellowship for our children. Others provide a safe space for when I am up to attending worship service. They also provide grief education and support for us and our support system.  Some brothers and sisters rotate weekly deliveries of family meals and helps with handyman work and cleaning. Another beautiful group of people check in with us on a daily basis, come by for quick hugs and drop small "thinking of you" gifts.  A few brothers and sisters open their homes as a haven for some solo time for my children saying, "whatever you need, whenever they need a moment-bring them here."  We also have at least five pastor-counselor-friends who check in on us several times a week providing counseling, prayer, and a listening ear.

Prayer Warriors: These are the friends of friends...of friends. The immediate family, non-immediate family. The coworkers of Aunties, the bible study group\members, the mother -in-laws of church members, Patrick's former colleagues, old classmates, online friends, former professors, ministers, pastors, children, music students, cashiers, delivery drivers, etc.  For all of the texts, calls, emails, letters, cards, etc. I can't even...I could never thank you all for continuing to petition the Father on our behalf.   

The Man Test-by Christian

Hello, my name is Christian, and the title today is, “The Man Test”.

One thing I always found myself waiting for was… manhood! Yes, I know that sounds strange, but I was counting the years, impatiently waiting to become a man.  I remember I was eight years old, I ran to my dad and said “Dad! I’m growing a mustache!” So, he pulled out his flashlight and said, “that’s peach fuzz!”  I refused to believe I was not growing up, so Elijah and I would take Dad’s man test every now and then.  I failed the test every time, but it was fun trying. The test consisted of:

1. Not laughing when being tickled

2. Being able to hit Dad's hand before he closed it

3. Not reacting to being thumped or pinched

Back then I couldn’t wait to grow up, but not anymore.  I would like adulthood to come slowly, VERY SLOWLY. I would not like to rush the years anymore because right now, I have been without my dad for a few months, and it makes me sad thinking about looking back as a grown man knowing that I lost my dad at twelve. Even though they were very full years, there should have been more. That’s what makes this situation so stupid to me. Why could there not have been more years?  Y’all I am stumped.  Dad planned to have a big ranch and use it as a getaway for pastors looking for a break. He would say, “We’re going to have horses, canoes and lots of acres for our whole family to live on.” It pains me to think of all the plans we made and did not get to do together. 

But then I think of all that Dad has done. He started a church, a family, brought Jesus Christ to the people in dark places, he did a lot.  Was it all he was supposed to do? We won’t know until the other side.  But, he helped a lot of people and I am proud of him. I am upset, but he is perfect now and we are still struggling.  Yes, hurting and that’s okay. The Bible says "weep with those who weep", and God understands. He does not expect us to be joyful all the way. He wants us to express our grief through tears, it’s okay. Dad always said, “Son, if you need to cry, cry.”  And even though that comforts me a little bit, it doesn’t bring him back.  As sad as that is, it’s true. So, I want to take life one step at a time, grieve as a kid, and then I will worry about the rest when the time comes. To all who are reading this, take your time and grieve too. Love you guys.

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. 

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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