Bad Things and Good People



A sunrise will always remind me that I am not in charge.

Early one morning, a few weeks before Kelci's accident, I was walking my dogs as I do most days.  It was summer, end of June, and the sun had just risen and a soft, misty dew fog enveloped the neighborhood. Others were seldom moving around at this time, and the solitude always gave me a sense of pure peace.  During this quiet time, random thoughts often popped into my head giving me compelling things to ponder.  One particular thought stuck with me so much so that I wrote it down upon my return home.  For weeks I sporadically thought of it, and after the accident I realized how prophetic it actually was.

What if bad things happen to good people so that others can learn from them.  Maybe through them, by the way they carry themselves, by the way they handle bad situations with grace and dignity, others will learn lessons.

When I first had the thought, I never once suspected it was a message to me, about me, but this seems to have become my life. It's not a job I ever wanted, or even thought I could handle, but here I am trying to embrace it.  Being a "poster child" for parents who lost children (or for those who have lost in general) is surely not what I want to be, yet it brings me comfort when something I say or do helps someone else, so reluctantly, I accept it.

In any event, the way I'm handling this is the only way I know how.  This is me.  I don't do what I do for others.  I just do what I do to survive, to some how make sense of this senseless situation.  To some how find goodness where none should seemingly exist.  I have found goodness in the kindness and generosity of others.  I have found goodness it finding ways to do good, positive things ins Kelci's memory.  I have found goodness in all that I still have.  My quest for sanity and understanding keeps pointing me to focus on inner strength, peace and hope and that manifest outwardly as strong and to some gives a sense that I'm "handling things well". 



Kelci and Michelle, San Fransisco, CA, June 2012

To that I say, as I say to a lot of things these days, "it is, what it is". I'm not doing anything any different then I would tell others to do. I'm not as strong as some might thing I am. I am just doing the best I can with the circumstances I have been forced to live with. You would be really surprised at what you can handle and how you handle things when you aren't given a choice.
I consider myself a good person. Since the accident, I have definitely question why this sort of thing happens to good people. I've even questioned a time or two if maybe I wasn't good enough and that I somehow brought this punishment onto myself. I know this isn't true. It's normal to question and ask why and have doubts when you are trying to answer the unanswerable.

Mostly, I just try to be a good person, and I try to focus on positive things instead of negative.  I did that before, and try even harder now.  Some days it's a real struggle and I have to fight real hard to get it right, but I do, because it's what I thing is the best.  I might not be right, and what I do might not be what is best for everyone, but it works for me, and right now that has to be my focus.  Much of my strength and courage comes from repeatedly asking the question, "What would Kelci want me to do?"  Knowing she would want me to find a way to be happy and help others keeps me going.  I know that she would be proud of me for trying to keep my head up, so I challenge myself for her.

There are some people who believe I might not be grieving enough.  That I'm pretending all is well and suppressing my emotions.  They are well meaning, but truthfully don't really know.  Dark moments creep in daily, how could they not.  Fortunately, these moments are reserved for my closest inner circle.  I am grateful that most of the world sees my strength and dignity, and I suppose I instinctively just know when and where I can be completely venerable. That's when the tears flow more easily and the unbearable grief is fully exposed. Often, this is when I'm all alone. It comes out, that's the important part. The whole world does not need to see me fall apart.

Each new day is different. 

Of this I'm sure, because it wasn't pretty when strangers on a plane got a glimpse of me in full on meltdown.  They had no idea why I was there, and I tried to hide it as best I could, unfortunately, covering my face with my coat was the only option available at the time.  I don't like to make others uncomfortable, and truthfully I'd rather show others that there might be another way.

I've been told I am teaching people trough my example.  It was never my intention, but perhaps I am.  Perhaps this is what was meant to be.  Perhaps the message was always intended for me.

 

Thankful, in spite of...

 

I orignally posted this on Facebook, and like others, I've transfered it here to keep my thoughts all in one place, something that eludes me in reality.  Thanksgiving, for me, was not as horrible as I anticipated.  The nine mile run I chose to do in the morning helped with that I'm sure, as did the amazing people that I chose to surround myself with.  My family is a blessing and my strength. 

 

I know this isn't something that will work for everyone, but I put things here that help me deal with my grief.  Being around people, talking about Kelci, and having the percpective that holidays will happen wether I want them to or not and not giving them power help me.  What I mean by not giving them power is I choose to look at them as just another day.  My thoughts were this "I got through yesterday without Kelci, so I'll try again today, so what if it's Thanksgiving, it's just another day." They are all hard, but I choose to find ways to make them bearable. 

 

Posted to Facebook:

 

Most people would easily forgive me if I didn't do a typical "I'm thankful for" post this year. I have many reason to resist. I could be angry at the world, but I'm not. I have a darn good reason to be bitter, but I'm not. I'm sad, a piece of me forever will be, but I'm also so very thankful for so many things. I am thankful for my amazing daughter, Michelle , and son,  Brian, who both, in spite of everything, can still find reasons to smile and laugh and make other people so happy. 

 

I am thankful for my strong, handsome and incredibly sweet husband, Ray, who without, I would be lost. 

 

I am thankful for the rest of my family, near and far, that have done more for me than I can ever repay. Thank you for being there for me. 

 

I am thankful for the amazing friendships that have both formed and strengthened over this year. My world is immensely brigther because of all of you. I am thankful for all the prayers that have been said on our behalf, for all the dinners that have been cooked for us, for all the smiles and hugs we have recieved, for every little kindness that has been shown to us these past 4 months. They have given me more strength than you will ever know. 

 

I am thankful that Kelci's peaceful, loving spirit has touched so many lives and that her light will shine forever. I am so grateful for all the wonderful moments that I was blessed by her presence. Her time here was cut short in quantity, but she made up for it in quality, and the time we had was so overwhelming abundant it will carry us through a lifetime. I am thankful that love is never ending. 

 

I have known great saddness, but I have also been blessed with so much. I have shed more tears than I could ever count, but have spent hours laughing (with many extra laugh lines to prove it) and smiling too. My heart is forever broken, but patches of love and hope can hold it together. Love is strong glue. Give extra thanks for all you have this year and extra hugs to those you love. Happy Thanksgiving, much love and many blessings to all of you. Now, forever and always I am with Kelci.

Holidays

I'm trying hard not to think about the upcoming holidays, but it's pretty hard not to do when I'm constantly bombarded with holiday related stuff.  From overheard conversations at work, to shelves in stores already filled with holiday staples and newspapers overstuffed with holiday fliers.  A couple of months ago I came home almost every day to a mailbox full of sympathy cards. That dwindled as the weeks passed and it's now been replaced with an onslaught of catalogs and advertisements filled with great buys and holiday cheer.

Trick-or-treat, Thanksgiving Feasts and Christmas don't stop just because someone is grieving.  What will we do is the big question.

We've already decided that we will be doing things different. We need new things to focus on because the old traditions and the way things used to be have been ripped to shreds.  Normal no longer exists here.

This includes a Thanksgiving morning 9-mile race for my son, Brian, and I and two of our friends. We'll be running as Team Kelci in our tie dye t-shirts, and maybe after I'll be to tired to focus on anything but making the turkey.  Any other non-traditional things are welcome that day too.  I've been tossing around an open house pot luck so we can fill the house with food, family and friends.

Christmas hasn't even entered the thought pattern yet. It's there, but I'm choosing not to accept it.  It's excruciating just hearing other people talk about there plans and knowing that I'm going to have to live through this.  I have thought of something to do leading up the day to give us something positive to thing about.

When Kelci was a little girl, first or second grade, so 6 or 7, our wonderful neighbor Mrs. Smith gave her a pine tree shoot that she had received from the Arbor Day Foundation.  We planted that little tree by the house and then had to replant it a few years later when realized how big it was going to grow.  Each year it grew taller and taller and fuller and fuller and Kelci never let us forget that it was her tree.  Kelci's tree is now about 20 feet tall and sits in the middle of our front yard.  Not the best planned tree placement, but it's there and it's staying right where it is.

This year, I'd like to turn Kelci's tree into a Peace and Love Tree for the holidays, maybe keep it up through February (her birthday and Valentine's Day), as a tribute to her, and hopefully as a way to bring some comfort to all of us in what we are anticipation being a really tough time.

Ray, Brian and Michelle like the idea of something different too, and we have asked family and friends to help us fill the tree with peace signs and hearts or whatever symbolizes peace and love to them. When the idea came to me and I started planning it, I realized it gave me something to look forward to and to even get a little excited about for the holidays.  Keeping busy and doing good things in Kelci's honor have held me together, so I'm going to keep on going with what is working.

In the weeks after the accident the amazing outpouring of messages and cards we received helped so much.  They brought us so much comfort, and even now, we re-read them over and over, and they still bring comfort. Maybe the tree will work a little magic too. I'm hoping it will be like that with new ornaments on the tree. Imagining a great big tree smack dab in the middle of our yard being filled with beautiful little random tributes to my daughter puts a smile on my face and peace in my heart.  It's right out there in the yard for anyone to access, and honestly, we all think it might give us a nice diversion.  I'm pretty sure an outdoor tribute, on her tree, would make Kelci smile too.

Right now, the plan is to have a tree lighting on December 1st (my motto remains no Christmas before the Christmas month, how odd that one tradition still clicks) and perhaps include a casual hot chocolate and soup social--Brian has agreed to let the RV he purchased be the serving station in the driveway. 

This new life is very hard, every day is a challenge, special days bring even greater challenges.  Doing things like this, planning things for Kelci, to honor her, gives our family something to look forward to...it's different, but it's what we have now. A wise and wonderful friend of Kelci's reminded me that together with the help of each other we'll get through this.

We are also going to organize a food collection to stock the shelves of the Back Mountain Food Pantry in Trucksville and the Seven Loaves Soup Kitchen in Tunkhannock (I still have to get in touch with them to see what their greatest need is) and make the donations there in Kelci's name. Living well and doing good things to honor Kelci are part of our new normal and we are hoping that others will continue to help us by helping out. All we can do is hope that doing things like this eases some pain and makes the holidays just a bit more bearable.

Emotional Rollercoaster

I've been all over the place emotionally the past two days.  Yes, even more so than over the last three months since Kelci's accident. 

This weekend we formed a Team Kelci to participate in a local 5K run/walk that was a memorial celebration to another young woman who lost her life far to early (Stephanie Godri-Johnson passed at age 31 from colon cancer).  We have future plans to establish a 5K run/walk to honor and celebrate Kelci's life, but this year was too soon (a tremendous amount of planning).

Michelle and Kelci 4th Birthday

For the past two weeks or so, I've been getting things ready for it.  Tie dying headbands and t-shirts, making candy bags, special water bottle labels and rounding up the troops to run and walk.  At times, I actually felt good, happy to be doing something prodcuctive and special for Kelci.  Then it hit me yesterday.  This is all I get.

I don't get to celebrate birthdays or holidays with Kelci.  I don't get to plan her wedding with her.  I don't get to help her pick out Halloween costumes or prepare for any parties or special events for or with her.  This is it.  I get to find little ways to celebrate her life, honor her spirit and remember her.  I get to cling to memories and hope and pray that she is remembered always.  Celebrations like this become my important events of her life.

Truthfully, it sucks.  This is not right.  This is not fair. This is absolutely NOT the way it is supposed to be, but it is what it is.  This is my new reality.  This is my new life without Kelci, so it is what I will do.  It's all I can do right now.

Michelle, my other daughter, and I were talking and about it and she has similar feelings.  She came very close to backing out of the race, because the reason we are running is just so hard to comprehend.  In the end, we were all glad we did it, because we knew Kelci would be so proud of us for getting out there together, remembering her and having some fun.

Michelle, Brian, me and Ray celebrating
and remembering Kelci's life at a 5K.

Maybe some won't understand the importance of gathering like this, but for us it matters, and until someone lives in my shoes, I would never expect them to understand.  When you lose a child, a sister, a granddaughter, your best friend, it becomes enormously important that they are not forgotten.  The reality is they likely won't be, but rational thoughts went out the door the moment I found out Kelci was gone.  I see others slip back into their normal lives, believe me I don't blame them or hold resentment for that, it's just that we don't get to do that.  This is our new normal, and for us, it allows us to have things to look forward to and to find ways to celebrate Kelci's life like we promised we'd do. 


It doesn't come without waves of emotion.  The past few days I've gotten very excited and upbeat about celebrating her life, only to sink into grief as I mourned all that we have lost and will no longer have the oppurtunity to have.  I've had to remind myself many times of the words I spoke to her:

As long as I have breath to breathe I will remember and cherish every moment of your beautiful life.  I will focus on that, and celebrate that, and I will honor your memory by living well.  I will have fun and live with no regrets.  I will do whatever makes me the happiest, and I will not feel guilty because I get to live and have fun, because there is life and much living to do.  I will make people smile, I will make myself smile, I will live, laugh and love!
 

This is the way we celebrate now. It's not easy, but it's all we have, so we have no choice but to accept it and embrace it. 

Three months.  I didn't think I’d be a person who focuses on dates, but it's hard not to when you wake up and know it's the 24th of the month and know exactly what that means. I hope as time goes by it's not so much at the forefront, but I have my doubts.



“Yo if u look closely in the pic of me with the heart…
U can see the ocean in my sunglasses J”



When I was a kid a teacher told me once that I had the "big puppy dog eyes" that could get me anything I want.  Not true, but I have learned that I do express much emotion with my eyes. I don't like to look in the mirror often, because there I'm greeted with the saddest eyes I've ever seen reminding me of how much I've lost.  Instead, I like to look within and find all the happy cherished memories that my life has brought me.  They are countless and not going anywhere.  They are my happy place.  I smile when I’m looking there.  I also like to look around me, outside of me, and focus on all the amazing blessings, especially the human ones, that remain with me.  They too are plentiful.  They are my comfort zone. I smile and laugh when I’m there.  Laughter really does console a hurting heart and soul.

I'll keep my sadness though too, for awhile, forever, who knows, because it is something that's just there.  It comes with the territory.  You don't love and cherish someone that much and expect no sadness when their gone. That’s impossible. You just learn to live with it. This learning to live without Kelci in my life is hard business, harder than anything I have ever known.  I really don’t like to look at the sadness, but it can’t be helped.  It’s there, in my heart, in my soul, in my eyes.  I can tuck it away though with thoughts of happier times, plans for good times, smiles, laughter, hugs, patience and understanding.  I am blessed beyond measure with an abundance of that. 

I wish I could say things are getting easier.  They're not.  Reality and acceptance suck, just saying. There's not a minute that goes by that I don't miss Kelci and wish that she could just be here, that this nightmare is over, that I'm awake and she's here and everything is OK. There isn't a day that I don't cry, although most people don't know this or see this, because I can act normal, I can work, I can exercise, I can even smile and laugh.  I didn't lose my sense of humor.  That one really puzzles me sometimes, but I'm glad for it.  It gets me through some tough times.

In the beginning, I was in shock but knew I had to be strong, the pillar, the rock, because I knew others might fall apart if I wasn't. Things had to be done, plans had to be made.  There was no time to crumble.  Life, you know, has to go on.

The thing is mine stopped that day.  Life as I knew it ended, and this new life that I don't want began.  Yes, the world ended for me in 2012.  I hope the rest of you fare better.

It's hard to act normal when nothing is. It's hard to live a life you didn't plan when it's not only nothing like you expected, but it's horrid.  I always thought that the quote "We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us,”  meant something great was coming.  I never thought this is what was waiting for me.  I woudn't have let go.

The thing is I didn't have a choice.  Now what?  I just don't know.  I know I want better.  I deserve better.  I just don't know how to get it, or if it's really possible, but everyday I still try.  Everyday I ask for comfort from my pain and that peace fills my heart. I count my many blessings, and I try really hard to be nice.  I go out of my way to do nice things for others, because this also helps me. 

It's hard though, really hard, especially when I see life going on so normally for so many others, and I see so much unhappiness, pettiness and ugliness.  I remind myself often now that all that is magnified, because I see things so much differently and wish others could too.  At times it's hard not to be judgemental, but since I'm not all seeing, I try real hard to step back and remember that I don't know what's going on behind the scenes in other people's lives, and I ask for peace and clarity for them as well.

I won't give up though.  Honoring, remembering and keeping promises to Kelci are far too important for that.  I'll find a way.  I don't have a choice.  In the meantime, I'll keep on asking for comfort and peace for me, everyone close to me, everyone one I meet and everyone out there who needs it.  Maybe if I don't get it just yet, someone else will.  Asking for and carrying peace in one's heart is never a bad thing, in volume it has to be awesome.

Hope

Hope becomes so different when you are dealing with permanent loss.  The thing you hope for most is impossible to attain, so it's shifts to other things.

I hope Kelci isn't forgotten.

I don't really think this will happen, but the thought is there.  Of course, for Ray, Michelle, Brian and I that will never happen, but I wonder if others will remember like I do.  People naturally slip back into their lives, I was guilty of this to before this happened to me, and as time goes on, we hear less and less from people, and I think they are forgetting.

I hope my fears of this are unrealistic, and I often remind myself that I'm not in their head, as they are not in mine, and maybe their thoughts of Kelci are stronger than I think.

I hope people continue to contact me to tell me stories about Kelci that I haven't yet heard, or that they send me a picture, or share how Kelci's life and passing have changed or touched them.  I hope that 50 years from now I'm still recieving "Kelci is Here" tributes.  This gives me comfort.

I hope that I can find a way to continue honoring Kelci in a more permanent or substantial way, like establishing a charity foundation or annual run. This is extremely important to me, and I continue to work on it.

I hope in my lifetime I can at least get a glimpse the meaning of this.  It's too much to bear to believe there is no bigger plan.

I hope that good comes from this tragedy. I have witnessed the beautiful imprint and amazing impact she made on this world and I hope it continues to grow and flourish.

I hope Kelci is happy, free, safe, unrestricted and embraced by love wherever she is, and I hope that her adventures are instantaneous and never ending.

I hope that everyone who knew and loved Kelci is forever embraced by peace, love and healing and finds a way to be OK.

I hope that by dealing with this loss the way I am, I can help someone else.

I hope I find more ways to bring Kelci's spirit closer to me, and to always notice the little things that let me know she is still very much still with me.

I hope I remain strong, so I can support my family. On the days I'm not, I hope they are strong for me.  I hope as a family we get through this and become stronger and closer. 

I hope peace and love fill the hole in my heart and sustain me until I  am with her again.