I am beaten down
I am broken ground
I have lost my found
But I'm not done
I have everything
But I am nothing
Just a squirming bug
Under a rug
But I thank God for everything
Thank God for everything
There's a road ahead
We all end up dead
Some get there ahead
Some hang on
I will take a step
Then another step
'Cause I find it helps me
Not to stall
If I thank God for everything
Song lyrics from the song "Thank God" on the new solo album Balance by King's X guitarist/vocalist Ty Tabor (tytabor.com); they really hit home with me when I heard them recently.
11 August 2009
29 July 2009
Losing My Child: Living In and Through Grief (Pt 7)
So, another set back occurred today...oh joy. We received notice on this past Saturday, that the life insurance check from my son's passing was in the mail. Well, today we received it...YAY!!! Then we opened it, and found it was made out payable to my SON'S name. Well, long story short, it was a typo and the insurance company is reissuing another check ASAP. My hope of using it to kill some of the surrounding debt before the end of the month, has been thwarted. So, I must patiently continue to wait...not one of my strong suits...lol.
OK, to continue in the look at the booklet Good Grief, we come to the seventh stage, which is the feeling of anger and resentment. Supposedly this stage will come after the depression, so I guess I have not been through this as fully as I could be, but I still relate to many aspects of it. While admitting that neither anger nor resentment are good or healthy emotions, they are nonetheless still common for most people, and therefore important to move past them.
When in this stage, we tend to become critical of everything related to the situation. I found this to be the case somewhat, when it came to the whole "what if" scenarios. I found myself questioning and casting blame on doctors, types of treatments, etc. What could have caused this? Who is to blame? What was done wrong, and by whom? These are areas he directly addresses in this chapter. No real solution is given, except to attempt to move from this quickly.
Stage eight is to resist returning to normal activities. I guess to a certain degree I have experienced this. It has to do with feeling like only we remember the great loss we have had, while others around us have returned to life as usual, so we seek to keep the memory (of pain) alive, leading to further depression, and a lack of desire to get on with life and try to get past it. We become too comfortable in our grief, and find it less painful to experiencing new situations in life.
One of the things he touches on in this section, is how people who surround the grieving one tend to make every attempt to avoid the issue...avoid bringing up the lost love one, for fear of bringing up painful emotions. He says that this tends to have the opposite effect, in that it makes the griever think everyone has all but forgotten the lost one. We should be open and free to discussed the one who has passed...to keep the memory alive, and to live and relive the joys of their lives. I often try to bring up my son in conversation with the family, and my other children do not grasp this point, and always think we should not speak of him. They do not bring him up, thinking it will make mom or dad cry again. But we really need to continue living, speaking, and remembering him in our normal conversations.
Stage nine is when things begin to clear up, and the dark clouds begin to break up, and a ray of hope begins to shine through. An example is given of the typical "Hollywood" little old lady who has lost her husband years earlier, and has become a recluse basically. She has kept her husbands belongings exactly as they were, and sits and ponders the memories on through the years, never letting anyone in, or seeking to experience life any further. This is what can happen if we do not move through the stages to reach the days of hope and life again.
Stage ten is to begin reaffirming reality again. We will never be able to return to our old selves again, with great loss comes great changes in life. But we should and can continue on in new experiences, and often, those of great faith will be better suited and able to assist others through similar issues due to their experience. So, in the end, we should come out different, but in ways, better than before.
I pray that I find my way through all of the steps and to this outcome myself. I appreciate those who have continued lifting me, and my family up in prayer during these times. I feel without it, we would not have made it this far. May God continue providing strength to us each minute of each day until I see the clouds break and the sun shine through once again.
This is the end of the examination of this little booklet, and I will return to my continued reading of the R.C. Sproul book Invisible Hand for my personal study on this issue further.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
OK, to continue in the look at the booklet Good Grief, we come to the seventh stage, which is the feeling of anger and resentment. Supposedly this stage will come after the depression, so I guess I have not been through this as fully as I could be, but I still relate to many aspects of it. While admitting that neither anger nor resentment are good or healthy emotions, they are nonetheless still common for most people, and therefore important to move past them.
When in this stage, we tend to become critical of everything related to the situation. I found this to be the case somewhat, when it came to the whole "what if" scenarios. I found myself questioning and casting blame on doctors, types of treatments, etc. What could have caused this? Who is to blame? What was done wrong, and by whom? These are areas he directly addresses in this chapter. No real solution is given, except to attempt to move from this quickly.
Stage eight is to resist returning to normal activities. I guess to a certain degree I have experienced this. It has to do with feeling like only we remember the great loss we have had, while others around us have returned to life as usual, so we seek to keep the memory (of pain) alive, leading to further depression, and a lack of desire to get on with life and try to get past it. We become too comfortable in our grief, and find it less painful to experiencing new situations in life.
One of the things he touches on in this section, is how people who surround the grieving one tend to make every attempt to avoid the issue...avoid bringing up the lost love one, for fear of bringing up painful emotions. He says that this tends to have the opposite effect, in that it makes the griever think everyone has all but forgotten the lost one. We should be open and free to discussed the one who has passed...to keep the memory alive, and to live and relive the joys of their lives. I often try to bring up my son in conversation with the family, and my other children do not grasp this point, and always think we should not speak of him. They do not bring him up, thinking it will make mom or dad cry again. But we really need to continue living, speaking, and remembering him in our normal conversations.
Stage nine is when things begin to clear up, and the dark clouds begin to break up, and a ray of hope begins to shine through. An example is given of the typical "Hollywood" little old lady who has lost her husband years earlier, and has become a recluse basically. She has kept her husbands belongings exactly as they were, and sits and ponders the memories on through the years, never letting anyone in, or seeking to experience life any further. This is what can happen if we do not move through the stages to reach the days of hope and life again.
Stage ten is to begin reaffirming reality again. We will never be able to return to our old selves again, with great loss comes great changes in life. But we should and can continue on in new experiences, and often, those of great faith will be better suited and able to assist others through similar issues due to their experience. So, in the end, we should come out different, but in ways, better than before.
I pray that I find my way through all of the steps and to this outcome myself. I appreciate those who have continued lifting me, and my family up in prayer during these times. I feel without it, we would not have made it this far. May God continue providing strength to us each minute of each day until I see the clouds break and the sun shine through once again.
This is the end of the examination of this little booklet, and I will return to my continued reading of the R.C. Sproul book Invisible Hand for my personal study on this issue further.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
28 July 2009
Losing My Child: Living In and Through Grief (Pt 6)
OK, I have been negligent in finishing this up, so let me go ahead and cruise through the remaining sections of the Good Grief booklet. It has now been ten weeks since my son passed away, and I must say, it seems like it has been much longer than it sounds. It some ways it seems an eternity since I last saw him, or talked to him, or just saw him sitting on the computer. Yet, the pain is still very fresh in many ways.
We did, as mentioned in the last post, get the finalized death certificate. All of the insurance has been filed, and so some of that closure is in the process; but the grieving, at least for me, still goes on.
Stage four of the booklet, describes that physical symptoms of distress can occur when grieving. People who have had a major life loss or change, can become so depressed that it can actually begin to give them physical ailments and sickness. I did not connect as much with this section, I guess because I have not remained in a stage of grieving to the point of causing these ailments yet, as it mentions this may happen after a longer period of time. I am hopeful that my grieving and current depression level will not lead to a long enough time to cause this to be a problem (I am hopeful).
Stage five discusses how one may become panicky, concentrating and pondering over the loss to the point of disruption of living. Losing focus, not paying attention, asking people to repeat themselves when they speak with you...always kind of being "out of it" would be descriptive of this stage. Fortunately, I do not feel that I have experienced this phase, and pray to God I never cross over into this. I feel I have maintained a focus on work and my extra curricular activities.
I must admit, my motivation...my creative desire has become more slack or (more) lazy. Not so much in my 8-5 job, but more related to my extra side projects. I tend to spend less time accomplishing things at and around the house, and more time just "vegging out," reading and hanging with the family. Musically, one of my bands has been much more active the past few months, so that has greatly helped keep me going in that area; but the other band is kind of in a creative phase, and honestly, I just am not all there or feeling it. I am hopeful it will pass, but I guess it is a side effect of the depression I still am prone to.
I do not have the panic that this sections starts off with, but I definitely relate practically word-for-word with the last paragraph of this chapter, which states:
Stage six discusses the guilt we may feel over the loss. There are two types of guilt, the normal guilt we feel over time not well spent, words not said, etc. We always wish we had a chance to do things over, to do things better, to say "I Love You" more, to spend more quality time with them. This I do feel, and is said to be normal.
The second set of guilt discussed is called neurotic guilt. It states every person will have some of this, and it may be hard to separate which guilt is which when dealing with it. I do admit I have some of this, but feel I have come to terms with it. The example of neurotic guilt that is given is a story of a daughter who spends day and night for a long period of time, by her aged mother's bedside. Finally, the doctors order the girl to go home and get some rest, and she does, and that same night the mother dies.
In my case, it is the "what if" question of why, upon arriving home early that morning (3AM), did I not put the pulse oximeter on my son's finger just to see how his levels were doing? My wife said he had recently stirred and was fine, and I did not want to wake him, so I was simply satisfied with holding his hand and seeing his head move. If I had put the meter on, and had noticed something was wrong (if there was anything wrong at that time of the night, that is) then I would have had him rushed to the hospital, where I am sure he would have been tubed, poked, prodded, stuck, etc. and who knows what other "torture" in the attempt to preserve him. If after all of that he were to still have died, it would have been a most horrible way to go...conscious, fighting, and in discomfort. I am thankful that the Lord directed me to not take steps to further check him and possibly lead to that; but instead my son went very, very peacefully, without a word, without pain, and just slept away.
OK, I will stop for now, and try to cover the last four sections in the next post. I am glad to be re-reading parts of this now and being able to pour out my thoughts here, whether anyone reads them or not, it refreshes my mind on the subject and hopefully helps me make it through some of this time.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
We did, as mentioned in the last post, get the finalized death certificate. All of the insurance has been filed, and so some of that closure is in the process; but the grieving, at least for me, still goes on.
Stage four of the booklet, describes that physical symptoms of distress can occur when grieving. People who have had a major life loss or change, can become so depressed that it can actually begin to give them physical ailments and sickness. I did not connect as much with this section, I guess because I have not remained in a stage of grieving to the point of causing these ailments yet, as it mentions this may happen after a longer period of time. I am hopeful that my grieving and current depression level will not lead to a long enough time to cause this to be a problem (I am hopeful).
Stage five discusses how one may become panicky, concentrating and pondering over the loss to the point of disruption of living. Losing focus, not paying attention, asking people to repeat themselves when they speak with you...always kind of being "out of it" would be descriptive of this stage. Fortunately, I do not feel that I have experienced this phase, and pray to God I never cross over into this. I feel I have maintained a focus on work and my extra curricular activities.
I must admit, my motivation...my creative desire has become more slack or (more) lazy. Not so much in my 8-5 job, but more related to my extra side projects. I tend to spend less time accomplishing things at and around the house, and more time just "vegging out," reading and hanging with the family. Musically, one of my bands has been much more active the past few months, so that has greatly helped keep me going in that area; but the other band is kind of in a creative phase, and honestly, I just am not all there or feeling it. I am hopeful it will pass, but I guess it is a side effect of the depression I still am prone to.
I do not have the panic that this sections starts off with, but I definitely relate practically word-for-word with the last paragraph of this chapter, which states:
To help ourselves through such a period when we can think of nothing but our loss, we must be open to new and different human relationships. At a time like this all we want to do is run away from life. The last thing we care to do is to try anything new. We can think of a hundred different reasons why we prefer to stay at home and be gloomy rather than go out and be forced to be nice to people and think new thoughts. Such an attitude is natural; it is to be expected.This I feel is me right now. I may not necessarily just sit around being gloomy, but I definitely do not have the motivation to go out and do anything, or meet anyone "new" like this. Actually, on top of the grief issue, other recent experiences with a close "friend" have made me even more desirous to not make any new friends or relationships. At this time, I am content to be with my family and my book "friends." I have no desire to open up to, get close to, or confide in anyone else outside of my current direct circle. Call it depression, or lack of trust in so called "friends," either way, for right now at least, I have no desire for new friends or relationships. So, I guess I may be stuck in a portion of this stage at present.
Stage six discusses the guilt we may feel over the loss. There are two types of guilt, the normal guilt we feel over time not well spent, words not said, etc. We always wish we had a chance to do things over, to do things better, to say "I Love You" more, to spend more quality time with them. This I do feel, and is said to be normal.
The second set of guilt discussed is called neurotic guilt. It states every person will have some of this, and it may be hard to separate which guilt is which when dealing with it. I do admit I have some of this, but feel I have come to terms with it. The example of neurotic guilt that is given is a story of a daughter who spends day and night for a long period of time, by her aged mother's bedside. Finally, the doctors order the girl to go home and get some rest, and she does, and that same night the mother dies.
In my case, it is the "what if" question of why, upon arriving home early that morning (3AM), did I not put the pulse oximeter on my son's finger just to see how his levels were doing? My wife said he had recently stirred and was fine, and I did not want to wake him, so I was simply satisfied with holding his hand and seeing his head move. If I had put the meter on, and had noticed something was wrong (if there was anything wrong at that time of the night, that is) then I would have had him rushed to the hospital, where I am sure he would have been tubed, poked, prodded, stuck, etc. and who knows what other "torture" in the attempt to preserve him. If after all of that he were to still have died, it would have been a most horrible way to go...conscious, fighting, and in discomfort. I am thankful that the Lord directed me to not take steps to further check him and possibly lead to that; but instead my son went very, very peacefully, without a word, without pain, and just slept away.
OK, I will stop for now, and try to cover the last four sections in the next post. I am glad to be re-reading parts of this now and being able to pour out my thoughts here, whether anyone reads them or not, it refreshes my mind on the subject and hopefully helps me make it through some of this time.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
17 July 2009
Jonathan - The Truth Revealed
DO WHAT!!?? ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!
That was the first thing out of my mouth when I spoke to the funeral home, who revealed to me the official cause of death on the death certificate for my 17 year old son Jonathan. Two days ago, they called and left a message stating that the medical examiner's office had called and the finalized death certificates were in. They told me they were submitting the request for the copies I had ordered, and should have them for me to get in a couple of days. Being impatient as I am after waiting now eight weeks for this, I called them back and asked if they could contact the medical examiner and see if they would tell us the actual cause of death. When I received a return call from the funeral home yesterday, just fifteen minutes from the time I left work, the answer simply blew my mind.
Cause of death: Brain Tumor. More specifically, Neurocytoma. I could not believe it. A brain tumor?? There had never been any symptoms that led anyone to even examine him for that.
At first, this was a shock, and it overwhelmed my emotions with a ton of additional "what if" questions. What if we knew and treated it? What if it was something simply fixable? UGH!!! It was a flood of pain and emotion all over again.
My initial attempts to find answers on line were less than stellar. There was a bit about it online, but I was finding mostly case studies, with technical jargon that I did not understand or want. I wanted a page to simply tell me what it was, how it is caused, and the treatment and survival rate. Instead I found bits of information on types of treatment and other less clear stats.
I did find many in the case study, even after surgery, still died, some in as little as six months, some lasted a couple more years. So I did not find any clear cut wording that says yes, it was easily treatable and survivable. I think the increased difficulty of finding a quick answer was God's way of telling me to stop. I gave up looking after a few moments.
Now, the day after, I realize that for me to dig for an answer is not a good idea at all. No matter what the answer I find, it will not bring him back, and it will not make me feel more whole. Worst case, it could make me far worse than I currently am. All of the "what if" scenarios in the world won't do anything to lead to peace of mind to me, but in fact could push me deeper. I am pretty sure if we had discovered it, in his weakened condition due to lack of weight, he probably would not have survived the surgery to fix it (some of the case studies showed people not surviving the surgery part).
It does help me in many matters though. First off, it clears my mind of any thoughts that the recent supplement IV treatments had anything to do with his death. It clears out the possibility that the diet he was on caused any problems. It also clears the thoughts that maybe we didn't start aggressively treating the weight gain issue sooner. None of those seem related to his eventual death, but instead, out of left field, a new undetected issue swoops in beyond our control to take him away.
Strangely, he had no symptoms of this brain tumor that we were aware of. From what little I found online, the common symptoms included chronic headaches, vision issues, and loss of coordination and tingling sensations in the limbs. None of these were issues that Jonathan ever brought up as having. Of course, he was so secretive of many issues and symptoms, one can only wonder if he did, but never shared them. Since the most common symptom was chronic headache, something he never seemed to complain of, then I have to assume he wasn't hiding it from us.
Anyway, while it does raise some additional questions, it also answers some of my already plaguing questions, so in the long run, I have to learn to let it go; there is nothing we could have done more as far as what we did know he had, so not knowing, puts the situation that much further out of our hands.
That was the first thing out of my mouth when I spoke to the funeral home, who revealed to me the official cause of death on the death certificate for my 17 year old son Jonathan. Two days ago, they called and left a message stating that the medical examiner's office had called and the finalized death certificates were in. They told me they were submitting the request for the copies I had ordered, and should have them for me to get in a couple of days. Being impatient as I am after waiting now eight weeks for this, I called them back and asked if they could contact the medical examiner and see if they would tell us the actual cause of death. When I received a return call from the funeral home yesterday, just fifteen minutes from the time I left work, the answer simply blew my mind.
Cause of death: Brain Tumor. More specifically, Neurocytoma. I could not believe it. A brain tumor?? There had never been any symptoms that led anyone to even examine him for that. At first, this was a shock, and it overwhelmed my emotions with a ton of additional "what if" questions. What if we knew and treated it? What if it was something simply fixable? UGH!!! It was a flood of pain and emotion all over again.
My initial attempts to find answers on line were less than stellar. There was a bit about it online, but I was finding mostly case studies, with technical jargon that I did not understand or want. I wanted a page to simply tell me what it was, how it is caused, and the treatment and survival rate. Instead I found bits of information on types of treatment and other less clear stats.
I did find many in the case study, even after surgery, still died, some in as little as six months, some lasted a couple more years. So I did not find any clear cut wording that says yes, it was easily treatable and survivable. I think the increased difficulty of finding a quick answer was God's way of telling me to stop. I gave up looking after a few moments.
Now, the day after, I realize that for me to dig for an answer is not a good idea at all. No matter what the answer I find, it will not bring him back, and it will not make me feel more whole. Worst case, it could make me far worse than I currently am. All of the "what if" scenarios in the world won't do anything to lead to peace of mind to me, but in fact could push me deeper. I am pretty sure if we had discovered it, in his weakened condition due to lack of weight, he probably would not have survived the surgery to fix it (some of the case studies showed people not surviving the surgery part).
It does help me in many matters though. First off, it clears my mind of any thoughts that the recent supplement IV treatments had anything to do with his death. It clears out the possibility that the diet he was on caused any problems. It also clears the thoughts that maybe we didn't start aggressively treating the weight gain issue sooner. None of those seem related to his eventual death, but instead, out of left field, a new undetected issue swoops in beyond our control to take him away.
Strangely, he had no symptoms of this brain tumor that we were aware of. From what little I found online, the common symptoms included chronic headaches, vision issues, and loss of coordination and tingling sensations in the limbs. None of these were issues that Jonathan ever brought up as having. Of course, he was so secretive of many issues and symptoms, one can only wonder if he did, but never shared them. Since the most common symptom was chronic headache, something he never seemed to complain of, then I have to assume he wasn't hiding it from us.
Anyway, while it does raise some additional questions, it also answers some of my already plaguing questions, so in the long run, I have to learn to let it go; there is nothing we could have done more as far as what we did know he had, so not knowing, puts the situation that much further out of our hands.
04 July 2009
Losing My Child: Living In and Through Grief (Pt 5)
Part three of the "Good Grief" book discussed feeling depressed and very lonely. The one thing about this book, is obviously these things do not have to proceed in the order given in the book, nor does everyone experience every step (as I will touch on in future segments). This particular step though, still seems to be lingering some in my process of grief.
The grief tends to make you think no one else has ever grieved as bad as we are. I can't say I have ever felt that way, because I know that no matter how absolutely horrible and painful I feel now, there are plenty of others who have experienced even worse (Job comes to mind for one that I hold up as worse off than me, though even more modern contemporaries could easily be mentioned).
The part of this that does touch base with me some is the feeling of being alone in this pain (even though I am surrounded by family also directly affected). I walk around as if in a haze. It is as if the sun is never shining, and while others around me go on with life as usual, I am stuck under a cloud. I work and work to keep my mind off of it, and do as much as I can to distract myself and enjoy things and people around me, but at the first sign of quiet, my mind drifts back to the reality at hand. In those cases, I tend to feel alone and isolated.
One small point he makes really hit home greatly. He says:
This booklet speaks of the eventual end of these "dark days" which seem so far away and impossible while living in them, but I put faith in the fact that they will one day end, and I will see sunshine again. There is a part of me though, that does not want that to happen, as it is almost like I am moving past my son, and forgetting him (which I know will never happen, but again, emotions rage). He states these dark days can last for some people much quicker than other, so who knows how these things will play out.
I have seen comments by some of our friends, feeling helpless as to what they can do to help us through this. Honestly, even I do not know the answers, and when people ask if there is anything we need or anything they can do, I do not have a clue. The books states:
I do appreciate all of the prayers and assistance from those around us that have been offered so far. At this time, we must forge on and attempt to live as normally as possible; but we could still use prayer for strength and peace of mind (especially me, as I am much more prone to depression than my wife tends to be). I must say, being able to "unload" some of this here is serving to be somewhat therapeutic, whether anyone reads it or not...it just "gets it out" I guess. Also, working through these books again is giving some comfort thankfully.
As part of a recent "what if" segment in my brain recently, I was struck with an increased awe and thankfulness to God in this situation. What if I had noticed an issue with him those few hours before he was gone? What if I had rushed him to the hospital? I won't go into any real detail as to the horrors my mind went to, but in the end I was ultimately thankful that Jonathan passed so peacefully in his sleep, and not in conscious pain in a hospital, trying to be kept alive through intervention that would have still led to his passing, though in a much more torturous manner. So, the fact that things went the way they did, can be viewed as nothing less than pure mercy from God for both us and our dear son. While I still do not understand how or why he passed when he did, I am thankful that it happened the way it did.
As of today, we are at the end of the sixth week since his passing (in ways it feels so much longer). We were told after the initial autopsy, that the final death certificate would be about six to eight weeks out, awaiting the toxicology results. So, we hope to have a bit of closure in that area any time now. I pray that whatever the outcome, it would somehow provide some closure in my mind mentally and emotionally, and help eliminate some of the "what if" issues that still bounce around inside. His condition was somewhat of a mystery in life, I fear his death may end up being the same...we'll see.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
The grief tends to make you think no one else has ever grieved as bad as we are. I can't say I have ever felt that way, because I know that no matter how absolutely horrible and painful I feel now, there are plenty of others who have experienced even worse (Job comes to mind for one that I hold up as worse off than me, though even more modern contemporaries could easily be mentioned).
The part of this that does touch base with me some is the feeling of being alone in this pain (even though I am surrounded by family also directly affected). I walk around as if in a haze. It is as if the sun is never shining, and while others around me go on with life as usual, I am stuck under a cloud. I work and work to keep my mind off of it, and do as much as I can to distract myself and enjoy things and people around me, but at the first sign of quiet, my mind drifts back to the reality at hand. In those cases, I tend to feel alone and isolated.
One small point he makes really hit home greatly. He says:
When we are depressed, we find ourselves thinking thoughts we never have otherwise. We say God does not care. We may even doubt there is a God.I have said previously how it is a battle between the mental and the emotional, and this is exactly it. I know in my mind God is there. I know in my mind God is in control. I know that every aspect of this situation is brought and controlled, down to the minutest detail, by the hand of God, yet emotionally the grief and depression tear away at that knowledge. That is where these books have come in handy, to help remind, shape and mold the emotions to adhere to the logical knowledge of the mental.
This booklet speaks of the eventual end of these "dark days" which seem so far away and impossible while living in them, but I put faith in the fact that they will one day end, and I will see sunshine again. There is a part of me though, that does not want that to happen, as it is almost like I am moving past my son, and forgetting him (which I know will never happen, but again, emotions rage). He states these dark days can last for some people much quicker than other, so who knows how these things will play out.
I have seen comments by some of our friends, feeling helpless as to what they can do to help us through this. Honestly, even I do not know the answers, and when people ask if there is anything we need or anything they can do, I do not have a clue. The books states:
One of the most helpful things we can do for a friend at such a time is to stand by that friend in quiet confidence, and assure him o her that this, too, shall pass. The friend will not believe us at first, and will tell us we do not know what we are talking about. We may even be asked to leave. But the friend usually does not mean it. Once it is realized that our concern is genuine, the quiet assertion of our own confidence in God's continuing care and concern will assist tremendously in the friend's recovery.Now, whether this is true, I do not know, yet..lol.
I do appreciate all of the prayers and assistance from those around us that have been offered so far. At this time, we must forge on and attempt to live as normally as possible; but we could still use prayer for strength and peace of mind (especially me, as I am much more prone to depression than my wife tends to be). I must say, being able to "unload" some of this here is serving to be somewhat therapeutic, whether anyone reads it or not...it just "gets it out" I guess. Also, working through these books again is giving some comfort thankfully.
As part of a recent "what if" segment in my brain recently, I was struck with an increased awe and thankfulness to God in this situation. What if I had noticed an issue with him those few hours before he was gone? What if I had rushed him to the hospital? I won't go into any real detail as to the horrors my mind went to, but in the end I was ultimately thankful that Jonathan passed so peacefully in his sleep, and not in conscious pain in a hospital, trying to be kept alive through intervention that would have still led to his passing, though in a much more torturous manner. So, the fact that things went the way they did, can be viewed as nothing less than pure mercy from God for both us and our dear son. While I still do not understand how or why he passed when he did, I am thankful that it happened the way it did.
As of today, we are at the end of the sixth week since his passing (in ways it feels so much longer). We were told after the initial autopsy, that the final death certificate would be about six to eight weeks out, awaiting the toxicology results. So, we hope to have a bit of closure in that area any time now. I pray that whatever the outcome, it would somehow provide some closure in my mind mentally and emotionally, and help eliminate some of the "what if" issues that still bounce around inside. His condition was somewhat of a mystery in life, I fear his death may end up being the same...we'll see.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
29 June 2009
Losing My Child: Living In and Through Grief (Pt 4)
While I know I promised to go through more information on how the little booklet "Good Grief" is being beneficial in the grieving process, I thought it also relevant to point out another book that I began reading last week that has also been found to be a help in this matter. "The Invisible Hand: Do All Things Really Work for Good?" by R.C. Sproul is a book dealing with the providence of God. I won't go into very much detail at this point, as I have only read the first four chapters so far, but I wanted to touch on it some at this time. Chapter four was read today, and it dealt with the issue of the "What if?" mentality, which as I mentioned in previous post has been one of the aspects that has, and does still plague me. This single chapter helped me to come to grasp with just how much God is in the details of everything. It was quite comforting to say the least.
Now, in continuing with the second chapter in "Good Grief," it looks at the idea that following the state of shock, we tend to fall into a state of emotion. One of the shortest chapters, it talks of the need to let the emotions go, to let it all out, to cry, even if today's culture looks down on men crying.
This chapter didn't hold much advice, since I guess I am not a modern enough man to worry about the crying game. I have cried...daily...for weeks. So, let's call stage two accomplished...or an ongoing process.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
26 June 2009
My dearest son...I love you!
We little knew that morning that
God was going to call your name.
In life we loved you dearly.
In death we do the same.
It broke our hearts to lose you.
You did not go alone,
for part of us went with you
the day God called you home.
You left us peaceful memories.
Your love is still our guide.
And though we cannot see you,
you are always at our side.
Our family chain is broken
and nothing seems the same,
but as God calls us one by one,
the Chain will link again.
A poem someone gave us yesterday that hit home greatly.
I am ever so glad you are now safe in the arms of your Savior, Jonathan; though I greatly miss you each and every day. You are free to fly with strength and grace now, never to be limited by your condition, but I long to see you, hold you, and be with you as soon as I am allowed to do so.
(Read Jonathan's story HERE)
24 June 2009
In Memory of...
My wife and I were surprised at what we received in the mail this week. A large envelope addressed to our deceased son Jonathan brought a curious look to our faces. I opened it to find a small stack of pages stapled together, with a photo on the cover from the movie Pirates of the Caribbean, and words saying "In the memory of Captain Jack Sparrow of Imperial Fleet."
My son Jonathan was a huge Star Wars fan (as is his brother Alex), and he was a huge fan of online game play with others around the world. There are many, many Star Wars based computer games available, and I believe we have probably owned most all of them. For many years they have played all of the various versions of the games Jedi Knight and in recent years had become active in online teams and group play.
This stack of pages was a series of short comments and writings from people from all over the world, who had been a part of the Jedi Knight team and server play that my sons had been involved on. My son Jonathan's character screen name was Captain Jack Sparrow (another movie he liked). He had joined and played on the Imperial Fleet Clan for quite a while, and the people of that team, upon hearing of his death, put together this little memorial and mailed it to us, Jonathan's parents, as well as to his brother Alex.
As I read through page after page of comments, mostly from pre-teen and teens, I was seeing how my son's life had effected and been recognized by others. I wish to share some of these comments. There was a page with a map showing the location of most all clan members as well as an introductory paragraph stating:
This is a letter of remembrance to the family of Captain Jack Sparrow, a player on our Star Wars: Jedi Knights Jedi Academy server, Vengeance Lugormod, and an active participant of our community on and off the server. Now that we understand he was sick, we understand that his playing on our server and membership in our clan, Imperial Fleet, must have given him a lot of joy, which we are honored for providing. In no particular order, this letter compiles everything that our community has to say about his unfortunate and terrible passing. He is in our hearts, and we care about him, and will always care about him. We hope you are all feeling well.Now here is a snippet from some of the comments from various members made about him:
Jack was an excellent member, and excellent friend, and an excellent contributor to this community....He was a great merc - a great sniper. He was respectful, honorable, nice, honest, and dependable. He was patient and consistent, he was alert and aware, he was humble and responsible. He was calm, he was optimistic, and always in a good mood. He was encouraging to lower ranked members, and a great warrior.It was great to hear how his loving and caring personality was seen even across the electronic world of gaming. We really appreciate hearing these things, and were amazed that an online community of young kids would be so thoughtful as to put together and mail this memorial document and mail it to us.
-----
He was a friendly guy and a great guy to have around on the server. He always helped me entertain and keep order, but do it in a good way. He never hurt anyone and he always tried to help everybody out, even people that didn't like him.
-----
Jack Sparrow, you were a great friend and an AWESOME clan member! We all love you! I can't believe I'm hearing this, Jack, you were one of the best members in our clan, and we all loved you. May the force be with you.
-----
Uhhh, this is horrible, I'm crying. I am also so sorry for this. Jackie'O was a good friend of mine. Always so happy, funny, never angry, never told about his sickness....I was a bit angry at him, I don't like people who quit stuff without telling about it, but I never thought the reason is anything like this.
-----
Tell Jack's family that he was a great friend, and never once did I think, oh darn, Jack is coming on. Whenever I saw JackSparrow is connecting it would make my day a little better, and the server won't be the same without him around...We'll miss you Jack, you were always cool, and calm and collected, we will miss you greatly. I am a little dizzy from all of this...Rest in Peace.
-----
I am also deeply saddended by this. Jack was a good friend to me, even before I applied to IF. He was a friend, a buddy, a pal. He was on the server a lot, always happy to help someone with an issue or something someone didn't understand...Jack was one of my best friends in JKA, and now he is gone, and it feels like something was taken from me and the whole Vengeance Community.
-----
I am truly sorry about your loss. Jack was by far the nicest guy I have ever met in this game. I never heard a mean or hateful thing from him ever; we can all learn a lesson from him.
-----
I'm gonna miss this guy. I remember that Jack was one of the many members of this community who kept us (IF and P) from turning against each other when our relationship was less than pleasant.
23 June 2009
Losing My Child: Living In and Through Grief (Pt 3)
OK, now turning attention to the book Good Grief as previously discussed. The book is basically an examination of a ten step process that most all people in grief experience in some form or another. So, let us start with step one: State of Shock.Most everyone experiencing a traumatic experience...a life altering experience, go through a period of shock. During this time, the pain and grief may not hit home, and we don't immediately feel the effects of the situation in front of us. While this stage of the process can vary in the amount of time it from minutes to hours to days, it should not last for weeks. If it last too long, it can become unhealthy, not just mentally/emotionally, but also physically.
This stage can help us to to maintain some rationality in the face of tragedy; to keep from breaking into complete panic. Often times, people who have never experienced grief of extreme nature, will view those who have and are in this stage, as having great faith and strength. This can be seen as a great emotional mechanism in times like these, and glory be to God for giving us this short time of "control."
The important point with this stage, is that it should not last long, and one of the ways to break through this stage is to get back on the horse and get active with life again. If we allow ourselves to be too idle, or refuse to proceed on, then it can prolong this stage to unhealthy ends. Loved ones, in a effort to "help out" can often prolong this stage, by trying too hard to take over the normal life processes in an effort to relieve your stress. The important thing to do is to get back to life, get back to being busy, get back to a normal pace.
Unfortunately for me, this stage was forced upon me and quite painfully so. Since I run the mail order book store, orders didn't stop during this time, and getting them out quickly is required often, so I had to get back to business the very day of my son's passing. On top of that, I had spent the prior two years teaching my son Jonathan as much about the business as I could, and he was the one responsible for the daily pulling, packing, labeling and mailing of all packages. This was his main source of income, since he was basically too weak to get any other normal job (though he greatly desired and spoke of his wish to get a "real" job. So, for me to get back in and take over the packages, I was essentially doing my son's job, and that tore me up even more each and every day I did it. I still, to this day, over six weeks later, can see him sitting at my desk doing the job, and it brings tears to my eyes for me to do so.
After about four weeks, I finally got the will power and desire up to begin teaching my son Alex this job. Beginning from scratch, teaching someone all over again, was also a painful process, as it too brought back so many memories of the way Jonathan did things, and the depth and understanding that he had acquired that I now had to walk through in small steps for Alex. Fortunately, he has caught on quickly, and is doing a fine job now, so it has helped.
So, while I still feel a twinge of that shock, mainly do to my unanswered questions I can't seem to let go of, I do feel that for all intents and purposes, I did quickly pass through this first stage, into the second stage...emotion.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
18 June 2009
Losing My Child: Living In and Through Grief (Pt 2)
In beginning to continue to deal with the issue of grief, and this little book I mentioned in part one, called Good Grief I wish to start by being transparent, to a degree that might be somewhat embarrassing to me, but hopefully somewhat therapeutic in the end (according to the book).
The past four-plus weeks since my son's death have been pretty horrible emotionally, as would be expected, but the oddest thing has been the struggle between the mental me and the emotional me. This was an aspect of grieving I never expected to be this way. I have been through deaths in the past, with my mother who I was very close with, passed unexpectedly a bit over six years ago, and all four of my grandparents have passed in the last twenty years or so (one grandmother just last year).
I occasionally wonder about the true spiritual estate of those relatives that have passed, especially my mother, who talked-the-talk of Christianity, and was regularly in attendance at a local, though fairly liberal church. She was loving, kind, caring and helpful to just about everyone she met, and spoke often of the things of God. It is just that she spoke of things that were outside the realm of orthodox, biblical Christianity, such as odd spiritual events and happenings, and ways God would "speak" or communicate with her, guardian angels, things like that. Her knowledge of biblical Christianity seemed shallow, and I often wondered if her faith was "true" enough to get her to heaven.
With Jonathan, my mind and heart play different games with me. My greatest fear is, did I do enough...did I live as a good enough witness to the faith to pass a true faith to my son? Did I teach him enough for his salvation? Did I instill enough truth in him to get him into God's loving arms? In looking back, I see how with each new child that came along, the older ones got a bit less of my attention. Jonathan being the oldest, had I lost connection with him? Did he know just how much I truly loved him? Did I say/display it enough? Was I close enough to him in his later teens years as I should have been?
Many weeks before his death, I had been giving serious thought to how best to begin a one-on-two Bible study with the two oldest boys, with the intent of giving them more attention for the struggles they were to meet in these teen years, and the coming young adult years; some "man" time and discussions to prepare them. Not getting to do this just leads to more "did I do enough" thoughts in my mind. This is what my emotions were (and still are) yelling at me.
My intellectual, theological mind was fighting in an opposite direction. Salvation and faith come from the Lord, and not from my works directly. Jonathan professed a faith in Christ; he spoke openly about his faith. He lived based on his faith, and was a very good son. His medical condition came with an aspect of anti-social behavior, so it was harder for him to make friends. Therefore, he wasn't very active outside the house with other young boys, or out and about getting into who-knows-what possible trouble when outside my sight. His condition kept him home and with the family more than usual, which is where he was actually more comfortable it seemed. So, I knew he wasn't out living a scandalous lifestyle. Every time my wife or I would try to instruct him on things to not do or stay away from, his most common response was, "why would I even think about doing that?" as if the very idea was too stupid to consider. All this to say, externally, I am pretty confident he was not involved in any grievous sinful living. So mentally, I recognize he lived an externally faithful life; but emotionally the thought was, had I taught him enough.
The other aspect of the emotional verses the intellectual struggle, was over the realm of his actual death. Intellectually, I know God is sovereign, and every aspect surrounding my son's death was in his hands and controlled...there were no accidents or way to have prevented this. Yet, my emotional side keeps throwing out the "what if" thoughts. What if I had checked his oxygen level when I came home at 3AM...was something noticeably wrong then that I could have corrected? What if we had pushed to start the latest IV treatments a month earlier? What if we had taken him to the hospital Saturday? Should I have stayed home Saturday night to monitor him myself instead of leaving? Would I have been able to do something? What if...what if...what if....!
Then there is the constant search for an answer behind why he passed unexpectedly. Was the last IV treatment somehow responsible? Was it the oxygen, or a malfunction in the machine? Was the diet right; did we miss some other important food allergy that could have caused this? Was there anything in the last few meals he ate that could have caused it? With all aspects of Saturday night being so positive (his oxygen level, pulse, good sleep, etc.), how could this have happened? Why...why...WHY?!?
These questions plague me, yet I know mentally that no matter what the answer to any of these is, no answer will bring him back to me. In trying to relay the emotional feelings in this to others, I have told others it feels like one of my kids is wounded, and I need to go find help and bring it back to rescue them. Yet with each and everyday that passes, I get further and further away from my wounded child, and the hope of getting back to him in time to save him become less likely each day. This of course makes me not want to go on another day longer (let it be known, I have a melancholy temperament, so depression can set in easily); even though I know I have five more little ones (and a wife) that need me even more now (I keep having to tell myself what Spock said...the needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the one). Mentally, my mind says "what the heck are you talking about...stop it!" but that is kind of what the feeling is like. I tell myself no matter what the answer, no matter any of the "what if" responses, he is gone and nothing will bring him back to me. Yet this mental knowledge gets overshadowed by the emotional day after day.
Then there is the aspect of the physical versus the spiritual. My mental, theological mind knows all of the standard biblical answers: he is with God...he is in a better place...he is no longer weak or limited...he is happier now than ever...he awaits me on the other side...etc. etc. etc.. My emotional side though, has that little voice saying...is he? What if I am wrong about my religious beliefs? Is there really hope? These thoughts make me wonder if I am having a crisis of faith? Has this tragedy pushed me over the edge, away from God?
Well, that is one aspect of this little book "Good Grief" has been helpful. It turns out that pretty much every one of these feelings, questions, and crisis issues are discussed in the book as being typical to varying degrees. While that doesn't take away the pain or the struggle, it does give me hope that I can survive this with mentally and emotionally as many other before me have. I will share more specifics on what the book says, in upcoming posts.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
The past four-plus weeks since my son's death have been pretty horrible emotionally, as would be expected, but the oddest thing has been the struggle between the mental me and the emotional me. This was an aspect of grieving I never expected to be this way. I have been through deaths in the past, with my mother who I was very close with, passed unexpectedly a bit over six years ago, and all four of my grandparents have passed in the last twenty years or so (one grandmother just last year).
I occasionally wonder about the true spiritual estate of those relatives that have passed, especially my mother, who talked-the-talk of Christianity, and was regularly in attendance at a local, though fairly liberal church. She was loving, kind, caring and helpful to just about everyone she met, and spoke often of the things of God. It is just that she spoke of things that were outside the realm of orthodox, biblical Christianity, such as odd spiritual events and happenings, and ways God would "speak" or communicate with her, guardian angels, things like that. Her knowledge of biblical Christianity seemed shallow, and I often wondered if her faith was "true" enough to get her to heaven.
With Jonathan, my mind and heart play different games with me. My greatest fear is, did I do enough...did I live as a good enough witness to the faith to pass a true faith to my son? Did I teach him enough for his salvation? Did I instill enough truth in him to get him into God's loving arms? In looking back, I see how with each new child that came along, the older ones got a bit less of my attention. Jonathan being the oldest, had I lost connection with him? Did he know just how much I truly loved him? Did I say/display it enough? Was I close enough to him in his later teens years as I should have been?
Many weeks before his death, I had been giving serious thought to how best to begin a one-on-two Bible study with the two oldest boys, with the intent of giving them more attention for the struggles they were to meet in these teen years, and the coming young adult years; some "man" time and discussions to prepare them. Not getting to do this just leads to more "did I do enough" thoughts in my mind. This is what my emotions were (and still are) yelling at me.
My intellectual, theological mind was fighting in an opposite direction. Salvation and faith come from the Lord, and not from my works directly. Jonathan professed a faith in Christ; he spoke openly about his faith. He lived based on his faith, and was a very good son. His medical condition came with an aspect of anti-social behavior, so it was harder for him to make friends. Therefore, he wasn't very active outside the house with other young boys, or out and about getting into who-knows-what possible trouble when outside my sight. His condition kept him home and with the family more than usual, which is where he was actually more comfortable it seemed. So, I knew he wasn't out living a scandalous lifestyle. Every time my wife or I would try to instruct him on things to not do or stay away from, his most common response was, "why would I even think about doing that?" as if the very idea was too stupid to consider. All this to say, externally, I am pretty confident he was not involved in any grievous sinful living. So mentally, I recognize he lived an externally faithful life; but emotionally the thought was, had I taught him enough.
The other aspect of the emotional verses the intellectual struggle, was over the realm of his actual death. Intellectually, I know God is sovereign, and every aspect surrounding my son's death was in his hands and controlled...there were no accidents or way to have prevented this. Yet, my emotional side keeps throwing out the "what if" thoughts. What if I had checked his oxygen level when I came home at 3AM...was something noticeably wrong then that I could have corrected? What if we had pushed to start the latest IV treatments a month earlier? What if we had taken him to the hospital Saturday? Should I have stayed home Saturday night to monitor him myself instead of leaving? Would I have been able to do something? What if...what if...what if....!
Then there is the constant search for an answer behind why he passed unexpectedly. Was the last IV treatment somehow responsible? Was it the oxygen, or a malfunction in the machine? Was the diet right; did we miss some other important food allergy that could have caused this? Was there anything in the last few meals he ate that could have caused it? With all aspects of Saturday night being so positive (his oxygen level, pulse, good sleep, etc.), how could this have happened? Why...why...WHY?!?
These questions plague me, yet I know mentally that no matter what the answer to any of these is, no answer will bring him back to me. In trying to relay the emotional feelings in this to others, I have told others it feels like one of my kids is wounded, and I need to go find help and bring it back to rescue them. Yet with each and everyday that passes, I get further and further away from my wounded child, and the hope of getting back to him in time to save him become less likely each day. This of course makes me not want to go on another day longer (let it be known, I have a melancholy temperament, so depression can set in easily); even though I know I have five more little ones (and a wife) that need me even more now (I keep having to tell myself what Spock said...the needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the one). Mentally, my mind says "what the heck are you talking about...stop it!" but that is kind of what the feeling is like. I tell myself no matter what the answer, no matter any of the "what if" responses, he is gone and nothing will bring him back to me. Yet this mental knowledge gets overshadowed by the emotional day after day.
Then there is the aspect of the physical versus the spiritual. My mental, theological mind knows all of the standard biblical answers: he is with God...he is in a better place...he is no longer weak or limited...he is happier now than ever...he awaits me on the other side...etc. etc. etc.. My emotional side though, has that little voice saying...is he? What if I am wrong about my religious beliefs? Is there really hope? These thoughts make me wonder if I am having a crisis of faith? Has this tragedy pushed me over the edge, away from God?
Well, that is one aspect of this little book "Good Grief" has been helpful. It turns out that pretty much every one of these feelings, questions, and crisis issues are discussed in the book as being typical to varying degrees. While that doesn't take away the pain or the struggle, it does give me hope that I can survive this with mentally and emotionally as many other before me have. I will share more specifics on what the book says, in upcoming posts.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
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