Lori's Rambling

As I sit and reflect back over my first week back to work, what strikes me the most is the surprise at when the grief hits.  I have had many conversations at work this week with co-workers and friends.  It surprised me that I was mostly unemotional during these conversations.   I have found that conversations with those who I know have experienced a significant loss in their life tend to bring the most emotion -- from both of us.  I think once one has experienced a significant loss that anytime someone else experiences a significant loss, it brings back those feelings of grief again. My parents have shared that losing Scott has brought back the grief over losing Jason all over again.  The idea of someone else truly understanding the deep grief brings it welling to the surface in almost an instantaneous way, with a sense of shared grief.  Shared grief brings a release of tears without feeling self conscious or a feeling of making someone uncomfortable.  Often just the act of meeting s

I don't know why I am always surprised when God takes care of me or has the timing of things so perfect.  You would think that I would expect that from God by now.  Today I received a card in the mail from friends from church, Jay and Geri O'Neal.  As far as I know neither of them have read my blog.  Yet in the card that I received from them was included two devotionals from the Daily Bread Devotional.  One of them was dated August 27, Monday, entitled The New Normal.  This was the same day that I wrote my blog titled "Normal."  I would like to include an excerpt that speaks to what I wrote in my blog on Monday:  A pastor, who was trianed in trauma and grief counseling, commented that the greatest challenge for people who are hurting is often not the immediate heartache of the loss. Instead, the biggest problem is adjusting to the different life that follows.  What once was normal may never be normal again.  When our "new normal" comes, it's easy to th

Well,  I went back to work today and Jaelyn went back to school.  Life goes on as "normal."  I had a pretty good day at work and Jaelyn had a good first day of school.  So why am I angry?  How can life go on as normal with one of the most important people in my life gone?  I don't want normal again -- life isn't normal when your spouse dies at such a young age with no warning.  My mind and my heart want to fight against normal.  Normal makes it feel like it wasn't a big deal that Scott died and that he didn't matter, and it was and is a big deal and he did matter.  Yet life must go on.  It doesn't seem right.  I want life to just pause for a moment to acknowledge the significance of Scott's life gone, yet life goes on.  It is hard to move on, plan for the future that he was always to be a part of and now is not. I know I'm not the first person to experience grief and loss and will not be the last person.  I know that Scott is not the first signif

Golden Wedding Celebration Tonight Jaelyn and I went to the 50th Wedding Anniversary Celebration for my aunt and uncle.  I knew that it would be a difficult evening coming on the heels so closely after Scott's death.  I have come to the realization that the longer I hesitate to face painful situations, the harder it becomes to face them.  So for two reasons I made the decision to attend this celebration.  First, I have resolved to face painful situations head-on and secondly, I wanted to honor my aunt and uncle in their celebration of fifty years of marriage.  I wish Scott and I would have had the opportunity to celebrate fifty years together, but that wasn't to be.  Having been married for thirteen years, I recognize how much work, love, and prayer go into being married for fifty years.  We had our ups and downs and bumps in the road of our marriage as did my aunt and uncle, some of which they shared tonight.  But because they had a deep commitment to each other and their

Jaelyn is really struggling now with lots of questions and just the pain of missing her daddy.  It tears my heart out to hear her talk about missing daddy.  I feel so helpless.  She is clinging to me more and more as each day goes by.  I have trouble wrapping my head around the fact that Scott is gone and we are alone, I can't imagine how much harder it is to wrap your head around when you are a seven year old.  All I can do right now when Jae talks about missing Daddy is sit there, hold her, agree with her, and cry.  Jae is still holding the tears inside and won't allow herself to cry.  She told me one night that she is afraid that if she starts crying, she won't be able to stop.  I can't take her pain away or do anything to make it better.  I know this is the hardest thing I have faced or will ever face as a parent. Jae just crawled into bed with me (after an hour of trying to get her to sleep in her own bed), she is having trouble falling alseep at night if I'm

I think with every unexpected death comes regrets.  Scott's death is no exception to this.  I certainly have my regrets - words I wish I had spoken, things I wish we had a chance to do together, opportunities I wish I had taken to spend time with him and chose instead to do something that "needed" done. I wish I had done a better job of encouraging him, of letting him know how much I loved him and needed him.  I wish I had encouraged him more in following his huge dreams instead of allowing fear and insecurity to hold me back. I know that I am not alone in these regrets as many of his friends and family have shared their regrets with me over time not spent with Scott and opportunities not taken to share with him how much he touched and changed their lives. While not of these regrets would have lengthened Scott's life, perhaps he would have been more at peace with himself and his accomplishments in life over the past several years.  Perhaps this is why these reg

This was written a little over 24 hours after Scott's death. I can't believe that I am planning Scott's funeral.  It is 4:00 a.m. and I can't sleep.  My heart and my mind cannot wrap themselves around the loss of my soulmate and best friend.  It is a deep intense feeling of loneliness even though I am surrounded by the love and care of our family and friends.  Words cannot express the difficulty of telling our seven year old daughter that her daddy was in heaven and wouldn't be able to take her for slushies, teach her more about the sports that they both loved so much, wouldn't be around to be silly with her, to grill her future boyfriends, walk her down the aisle at her wedding, or play with her children.  She has lots of heartbreaking and hard to answer questions, such as why did Daddy have to die and what does heaven look like. Scott embraced life with everything that he had in him.  He held nothing back in his love of his family and friends.  Scott wa

It has been three days now since Scott's death and everything still feels so surreal.  I want to share the story of Scott's death in the hopes that it may prevent someone else from going through the same tragedy. Thursday evening, August 9th, Scott worked second shift at Philhaven.  He planned to play basketball with some co-workers immediately after his shift at Philhaven.  After playing basketball, when he was on his way home at around 1:30 a.m., he began having difficulties breathing.  Scott stopped at his dad's house and had his dad call 911.  While he was waiting for the ambulance to arrive, Scott left a voicemail message on my cell phone and also on the home phone -- both times telling me that he was having trouble breathing, was calling 911, he loved us, and thought that he was going to be okay.  Unfortunately I didn't have a phone in our bedroom, so was not aware of what was happening until later.  His dad shares that when the ambulance arrived, Scott got up t