Life Is Wonderful - April 21, 2011

 Sunday, April 17, 2011, 10:30 pm

This post has been composing itself in my mind for weeks. There have been several instances where I’ve tried to put my words down, but I just sit here, staring at my computer screen, unsure of where to begin. So here I am tonight, once again attempting to write.

 

Monday, April 18, 2011, 12:30 am

It’s taken me two hours to get the last three sentences down. I’ve been both looking forward to and dreading this week for, well… weeks. The closer we get to the anniversary of Christopher’s accident, the more intense everything becomes. Remember those visions I used to have where I saw him falling from that tree… over and over and over again, like a tape caught in an endless cycle of play/rewind/play/rewind/play? They’re back in full-force. Remember my sleepless nights? Sleep is once again eluding me. And the pain I felt in my heart as I sat in the PICU, watching the monitors, stroking the arms and legs of my comatose boy, talking those numbers back to the place they needed to be? That pain has returned and it is as real and intense as it was a year ago.

 

So why am I surprised? Why did I fool myself into thinking that once we reached the one-year marker, things would settle down, my nightmares would disappear, the worries would dissipate and I’d be overjoyed by the fact that Christopher is alive and thriving? Don’t get me wrong; I AM thankful for the progress he’s made! I DO look at him every day and marvel at the fact that he’s such a typical 14-year old boy… texting endlessly, listening to loud, annoying music; hanging out with friends every chance he can get, and preparing for his upcoming soccer tryouts.

 

But what I have discovered is that the anniversary of a traumatic event… actually, the anniversary of any event, good or bad is a time for reflection, and you know me… reflecting is one of the things I do best! I now believe that we are far better off NOT knowing the future. Sure, life comes at us fast and we don’t know what’s around the next corner, but as time marches on, I am coming to the realization that I should always expect the unexpected and that it would be wise to never say ‘never.

 

The first year after Christopher’s accident was all about survival and this second year will be about anniversaries… the anniversary of the week before the accident. The anniversary of the day he fell; the phone call he made to me 30 minutes before, telling me that he and his friends were going to find ‘some really awesome trees to climb’ in the neighborhood. The knock on my door at 6:30 pm, a neighbor telling me that I needed to come with her, that there had been an accident and they’d called 911. The shock I felt at seeing my boy, lifeless on the ground; another kind neighbor kneeling at his head, telling me that Christopher was unresponsive and the paramedics were on their way… seeing Emily fall into a heap on the street, struggling with the scene before her… her little brother at death’s door… watching the paramedics cut Christopher’s clothes off, explain to me his precarious condition, stabilize and quickly whisk him off to the waiting helicopter… seeing Paul’s face as we walked into the hospital at the same time, not knowing if our child was still alive, not knowing what the next 24 hours… 8 days… 4 weeks… or 12 months would hold for us… the anniversary of the diagnosis: severe traumatic brain injury. Just writing about it now brings the emotion flooding back and it is so real that it feels as though it is happening all over again.

 

Thursday, April 21, 2011, 1:00 am

1:00 am… my favorite time to write… in the wee hours of the morning. As I was saying, this next year will be filled with anniversaries, but along with the painful memories there will be the most wonderful ones of all. My boy survived against the odds and today he is thriving. He is truly a walking, talking miracle and I have every reason in the world to be thankful and to celebrate.

 

I’ve been reading about wisdom lately and have learned much from Job’s example in the bible. His words, ‘we take the good days from God – why not also the bad days?’ really struck a chord with me. As Christopher’s doctor predicted, I found myself struggling with the aftermath of his accident once we got home from the hospital last May. I alluded to it in my Christmas letter when I said that what I initially called ‘the blues,’ I eventually came to accept as depression. I believe that my biggest challenge on a daily basis is to accept those bad days that Job spoke of and thankfully, I am making progress.

 

What I have learned is that without the bad, we don’t fully appreciate the good. The risk is that we fail to see the blessings before us and our days become mundane, quotidian. I know that I do not wish to live a trivial life. I hope to be an example to my children of what it means to live life filled with love and joy; to view it as a journey; to dream big. But most of all, I want them to learn to take the ups with the downs, the good with the bad. We cannot have one without the other and it all works together to make our lives beautiful. Yes, life truly IS WONDERFUL!

Love, Laura

https://youtu.be/xIV8-CvwrqY

Remembering My Sweet Mama

We celebrated my mom’s life last weekend in Oklahoma City. I wrote her eulogy (below) a couple weeks ago and when I was unexpectedly unable to attend her memorial service, my sweet daughter, Emily offered to read it on my behalf. Grief is its’ own animal… I don’t think it ever goes away but rather changes as time marches on. I have several voicemails from Mom that are too difficult to listen to for now. But when the day comes that her voice begins fading from my memory, I’ll pull them out and cherish every word I hear. 

Writing my mom’s eulogy was bittersweet… I was hit hard with the reality that she’s no longer with us yet at the same time, it was a beautiful walk down memory lane. 

Mom was born and raised in Okeene, Oklahoma, a town with a population of about eleven hundred people. Her dad worked for the local gas company, her mom stayed home full-time and her Grandma Dumler lived with them while she was growing up. 

Uncle Don playing the organ at St. Patrick’s Cathedral 

She and her brother, Don were always very close although I’ve heard he was pretty annoying as a young child when he would slide onto the piano bench (essentially pushing her off!) and proceed to play PERFECTLY-BY EAR whatever piece she had been practicing. It certainly didn’t help that he was 5 years younger than her! However, Mom was SO proud of Uncle Don and was hands-down his greatest cheerleader as he pursued his career as a very accomplished organist!

Her favorite things to do growing up were baking with her mom, spending time with family and friends, and learning to play the piano and the clarinet. She loved working at the local drugstore/diner/soda fountain/jewelry store… that sounds a lot like a menu at the Cheesecake Factory… a little bit of everything!! Dad actually bought her engagement ring there!

Mom told me that on the weekends when she was a teenager, she and her friends spent their time roller skating and “cruising” up and down Main Street… I just have a hard time picturing her doing those things but my kids probably also have a hard time (and would rather not) picture me as a teenager! 

Mom and Dad met at a church picnic when they were children. They married when she was 18 and were happily married for 65 years. Initially they lived in a house on his parents’ property and Dad’s plan was to be a farmer, making Mom a ‘farmer’s wife’ which was quite a change from the ’city girl’ she grew up as! But when life took them in a different direction with Dad going to college and graduate school and then eventually working for AT&T, both of them fully embraced and loved everything that followed. 

Because of Dad’s job we moved every 10 months to 2-1/2 years while we were growing up. I love how they approached our moves! Mom and dad would sit us down and tell us about the new state we would be calling home and always made it sound like an adventure. It was never, “we HAVE to move again” but rather, “we GET to move again!” We were going to be exploring a new city, living in a new home, finding a new church and making new friends! It really set the stage and also our expectations for the adventures we were about to embark on. Mom mastered the art of quickly getting us settled into our new home during those years. Her rule was always, “boxes in and out within a week” and she usually accomplished that even faster.

Before we knew it, our new house felt like home and my brothers and I felt safe and secure.  I love that Mom taught me how to move and I eagerly embraced and put into practice her moving techniques during my adult years when my family moved frequently. 

One of her favorite things to do was to entertain, bake and cook and there was always a place at her table for friends and family. She was super organized and always had everything expertly planned out. Though rarely fancy, her meals were filled with delicious food and mostly, her table was filled with love and laughter and it was always welcoming. 

Mom’s children were her pride and joy and she devoted her life to raising us to be loving, caring and ethical persons of faith (not to mention extremely organized)! Being involved in a local church was always their highest priority and whenever the church doors were open, the Geis family was there. Playing the piano was one of her many accomplishments and Mom loved being the pianist in every church we attended. 

“Queen Shirley”… that’s one way I would describe my mom. She would have never thought of herself in that way because it would have sounded pretentious which was definitely NOT who she was.

But after moving to New Jersey in 2018 I had a whole-house generator installed and the way it reliably and consistently ran during storms reminded me of my mom, so I decided my generator needed a name. I held a little naming ceremony and this is what I said, “To my generator... I hereby dub thee ‘Queen Shirley’ in honor of my mother, the queen of my home growing up... the woman who always kept things running like a well-oiled machine.” We had a good laugh when I told her about that! 

Mom’s family and friends fondly remember her as being kind, gentle, loyal, a woman of faith and beloved by all who were blessed to know her. 

Her life wasn’t filled with thrills or accomplishments according to the world’s standards but to me, she succeeded in the most important of ways... she made sure I always knew I was loved fiercely and cared for completely.

When Dad passed away in 2017, I began calling her daily and we built the most beautiful mother-daughter relationship during that time, which I always told her was our silver lining. I don’t think we would have gotten to know each other in the way we did had it not been for Dad’s passing. We spent hours every week talking about everything and nothing. We talked about the weather, OU sports, what was going on in the world, what she’d eaten for breakfast, what she was having for dinner and upcoming family weddings and births. But I think my favorite conversations were when she would begin reminiscing about her life. I learned so much about her and listened to stories I’d never heard before. She always came back to the fact that she’d lived a wonderful life and she missed Dad horribly. 

I miss our daily phone calls so much! It took me several weeks to stop picking up the phone to call her and then remembering that she’s no longer here on earth. The past 5 years have been challenging for Mom and as much as I miss her, I’m so very thankful that she is finally at peace and with Dad… the love of her life. Hug your mama today if you are blessed to still have her in your life. 

My Coronavirus Quarantine Lucky Strike Extra, Saturday, June 20, 2020

These four beautiful humans headed home today (to Boston and Brooklyn, NY) after 97 days 😮 of living with me during the #stayhome Coronavirus quarantine.

It was a most unexpected and unanticipated period of time, but I will forever consider it my Lucky Strike Extra...

three months that we never longed for nor anticipated, yet had the gift of experiencing together. But after all was said and done, I got to know each of them better in so many ways... as adults, as fully independent contributing members of society, and as family who shared love as only family can.

And I couldn’t be any more proud to call them my “posse.” Emily, Julian, Christopher & Eugenia... I will miss all of you, I’ll never forget our time together,

I’ll miss enjoying your culinary delights and I look forward to the day when we’ll (hopefully) look back on and reminisce about this time as a most beautiful gift. I love you and I already miss you. ♥️ #stayhome #myluckystrikeextra #coronavirus #covid19 #lafamilia

Celebrating Christopher!

As April 21st, the 8-year Anniversary of Christopher’s accident and subsequent Brain Injury approached, I once again found myself reminiscing about the difficulty of that time, but mostly feeling grateful for his miraculous recovery. I created a new slideshow to celebrate his life and to remind myself and my loved ones of how far he’s come since that time.

Christopher 2010 and 2018

Christopher... I can’t let this day go by without telling you how thankful I am that you’re alive, healthy and thriving! You’ve come so far since that day in 2010 and I’m so proud of the kind, caring and compassionate young man you are today. You’ve accomplished so much and have such a bright and promising future ahead of you. Keep working hard and reaching for the stars! You’re well on your way and I love you more than you’ll ever know! 

I created a slideshow for you to celebrate your life! ❤️

https://youtu.be/VkA2jH0Oqow

My Father... May His Memory Live On

Today was bittersweet... we had the Memorial Service for my father, who passed away on May 5, 2017, just 8 weeks ago. It was sad to say our final goodbye to Dad, although we know we will be reunited with him in heaven someday. Mom was surrounded by her children, my brothers Ken, Scott, Mark and me. We held her, we cried with her, and together we mourned the loss of our beloved husband and father. I was blessed to be surrounded by my children, Nicholas, Berenice, Emily and Christopher. They held me, cried with me and together we mourned the loss of our beloved father and grandfather. The service was beautiful and was a great tribute to a wonderful husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather and friend. 

We miss Dad so much and some days, it feels as though the pain of his absence from our lives on this earth will never end. But I know that with time, things will get better and we will all learn to live life as we now know it... a life filled with a void that will always be present. The sadness will gradually be replaced with memories of a man who was so full of life, a man who loved and was loved dearly by so many. We will slowly find ourselves remembering the good times filled with life, love and laughter. I am so grateful to have been blessed with a father who was a great role model and who loved me so beautifully. I will always miss him, but mostly, I will remember with fondness the strong, kind and loving man who I was blessed to call "MY father."

Below is the Eulogy I gave in honor of my Father...

"Wow… where do I begin? While I’ve written more than a hundred posts on my blog over the past several years, this is the first Eulogy I’ve written for a Memorial Service and it's especially difficult because of who I’m writing about… my beloved father. Dad grew up on a farm in Loyal, Oklahoma, the youngest of 4 children. After he and Mom married in 1952, his plan was to follow in his parents’ footsteps and become a farmer himself. But God had something else in mind for him. He was working nights at a company called U.S. Gypsum to earn a little extra money and after about a year, his boss came to him and told him that he had both bad and good news. The bad news was that he could no longer work there. The good news however, was that his boss saw great potential in him and he offered to pay for Dad’s college education at the University of Oklahoma.

So Mom and Dad moved to Norman and Dad proceeded to get both Bachelors and Master’s Degrees in Engineering. He began working for Western Electric, which eventually became AT&T. He was passionate about his work, which took our family all over the United States. We loved the process of moving, meeting new friends and having great adventures along the way! Dad was the epitome of an ethical employee and was highly-revered among his colleagues. After his retirement from AT&T in 1989, he and Mom moved back to Norman where he began working for the University of Oklahoma, first as Assistant to the Dean in the College of Engineering, which was something he absolutely loved. But raising funds for the Athletics Department was definitely a highlight of his life!  

Dad was very special to family and friends alike. He was a leader and a man who loved and followed God passionately. He played a vital role in leading many people to Christ and since his passing, I have heard from many of these folks how grateful they are for the way he helped re-direct their path in life toward Jesus. He loved teaching adult Sunday School, ushering, serving as a Deacon or Elder and singing in the choir in every church we belonged to. 

Dad absolutely loved telling stories and he always had great ones to tell. He walked around with a smile on his face that was nothing short of contagious. He loved and had the gift of talking with everyone whose path he ran across, whether it was family, friends or acquaintances, and especially waiters and waitresses. As many of you know and for as long as I can remember, Dad found it nearly impossible to simply order something straight off a menu. He always had to personalize his order, requesting honey-mustard dressing on the side, changing the type of bread his sandwich was on, exchanging one side dish for another and his favorite… adding melted cheese to pretty much everything he ordered! We’ll definitely miss the smiles his ordering of food put on our faces. 

Dad's love, support and pride in his family was evident to all, especially to Mom, my brothers and me. He was very protective and was constantly looking out for our best interests. Not a day went by that we didn't feel his powerful love for us, and he lead our family to faithfully love and live our lives to honor God. I will be forever grateful for his example of what it means to live a Godly life... one that is "good and pleasing to God." I strived to pass Dad's teachings along to my own children and to instill these same principles in them, as did my brothers. My hope is that he is now looking down on us from heaven and is satisfied that his commitment to honoring God was indeed passed along to his children, grandchildren and his newborn great grandson.  

I miss Dad so much and some days, it feels as though the pain of his absence from our lives on this earth will never end. But I know that with time, things will get better and we will all learn to live life as we now know it... a life filled with a void that will always be present. The sadness will gradually be replaced with memories of a man who was so full of life, a man who loved and was loved dearly by so many. We will slowly find ourselves remembering the good times filled with life, love and laughter. I am so grateful to have been blessed with a father who was a great role model and who loved me so beautifully. I will always miss Dad, but mostly, I will remember with fondness the strong, kind and loving man who I was blessed to call "MY father."

It is comforting to know without a doubt that Dad is in heaven now, and that as he entered into God's presence, he was welcomed with the words, "Well done, my good and faithful servant." May his memory live on in all of us and may he rest in peace. I miss you and I love you, Dad..."

Celebrating Christopher's Life!

Hard to believe this anniversary is here again... 7 years ago today Christopher fell out of a tree, was unresponsive, airlifted to Children's Hospital and diagnosed with a Severe Traumatic Brian Injury. After 8 days in a coma, 12 days in the PICU and 28 days in the hospital, Christopher fought his way back and is thriving today! 

I'm so proud of all that you've accomplished Christopher... about to complete your 2nd year at Boston University, working two jobs and fitting in a little fun, you've beaten the odds and are proving to all of us that there is no limit to what you can do!

December 2016

I love you more than you can ever imagine and I'm so thankful to call you my son! I updated a slideshow that I created on the first anniversary of your accident... watch it and be amazed at how far you've come, my miracle boy!

https://youtu.be/lt7XN6Mx8GU

Here's to Life... the Second Time Around

January 1, 2017

It was seven years ago today that I wrote my blog post entitled, "Here's to Life..." and here I sit today, feeling compelled to update that post http://leackerman.blogspot.com/2010/01/heres-to-life.html. Much of what I wrote on that day still rings true. The year 2009 WAS life-changing for me, as I discovered so much about myself and grew personally. My role in life has been and still is that of a supportive one. I spend my life taking care of others... keeping those close to me safe, comfortable and happy. I am still a peacemaker and I like to think of myself as "a rock." It was the year of the awakening of Laura Ackerman, and it was a great one!

As I headed optimistically into 2010, I had no idea what was to transpire that year. Experiencing the near-loss of my youngest son, Christopher in April, who sustained a Severe-Traumatic-Brain-Injury, struggling with depression, PTSD and sleeplessness, and overcoming my brush with death when I had a Massive Pulmonary Embolism in December were things I never anticipated. Yet we survived them and kept plugging along. The following six years were full of ups and downs. We delighted in the miraculous recovery of Christopher as we watched him heal and experience a full recovery. Our family grew closer as we realized how near we had come to going from a family of five to a family of three by the end of that year.

Uncle Don at St. Patrick's Cathedral

Nicholas moved to Mexico City, Mexico in 2011, working for Vision Fund, a Micro-Finance company; Emily started college at BU in January 2013; Nicholas married his best friend, Berenice in August 2013; I filed for divorce in March 2015; Christopher started college at BU in September 2015; my divorce was finalized in mid-March 2016; my dear Uncle Don passed away in late-March 2016; I spent a wonderful weekend with my parents and brothers in May 2016 celebrating the life of Uncle Don;

My parents and brothers

Emily graduated college in May 2016 and moved to Madrid, Spain in September 2016 where she is teaching English (and moving to Barcelona next week!); and Nicholas and Berenice will be moving to Barcelona later this year so that he can begin studying for his Bilingual MBA at IESE, Instituto de Estudios Superiores de la Empresa (Institute for Higher Business Studies).

Emily's Graduation from Boston University

 

But as I write today, so much has changed... some things for the better and some that I never imagined would transpire. My children are no longer children. They are all adults... 30, 23 and 20 years old and they have officially been launched into the world, which was my intent all along.

They are successfully navigating their lives, reaching for the stars, sometimes stumbling along the way, but that's what makes their lives so real... so wonderful, painful, exciting and promising. They are learning, growing and expanding their horizons and I couldn't be more proud of all of them! My divorce earlier this year has not been easy on any of us. It's something none of us ever anticipated happening, but as I have learned, life comes at us fast and we don't know what's around the next corner. As time marches on, I am coming to the realization that I should always expect the unexpected and that it would be wise to never say, "never."

My years of "active parenting" have come to an end, my years of "being a wife" have come to an end and I find myself entering a new stage of life... my "Second Time Around." This new stage is, well... new. For the first time in my life, I am living alone. That is not a good thing nor is it bad. It just is. I had always thought of myself as an extrovert. I am outgoing, can strike up a conversation with anyone, anywhere, anytime and I thoroughly enjoy it. But in 2016 I discovered that I am, indeed an introvert. Yup, ME... an introvert! While I enjoy the company of others, my way of recharging my batteries is to be alone. And alone I am! For the most part, I enjoy it. I love sitting in my quiet house with my dogs, a fire in the fireplace, listening to music, reading and writing. Doing these things gives me the energy needed to go out into this crazy world and engage with others... to be social. I am blessed to have wonderful, supportive friends to spend time with, a church that I love and children who I am privileged to see and spend time with often (9 times in 2016)!

Mexico City, March 2016

 

I have spent most of the past two years being rather introspective. I'm working on myself and striving to learn, grow and challenge myself every day. I have found "my voice" and am learning how to use it. I am learning how to live alone. Because of the fact that I pretty much ran our household for nearly 33 years, I am blessed that this has not been a difficult transition. But I will admit that while I enjoy living alone for the most part, it is at times, well... lonely. Learning to live alone is a process and one that I am trying to embrace. The fact of the matter is that real life is wonderful, horrible, joyous and painful. It is full of surprises... some that we wish for and others that we would prefer to never cognize. 

Christmas 2016

As I look toward the year 2017, I am filled with hope and optimism. I will continue along my path of personal growth, I will spend time with family and friends, I look forward to making new friends and expanding my horizons. I plan on traveling to visit my family around the world and I look forward to becoming fully engaged with the UCSF Benioff Children's Health Council. I have every reason to believe that this year will be a good one. In my blog on January 1, 2010, I posted the song, "Here's to Life" by Barbra Streisand. It was appropriate that year, but I believe that it is even MORE appropriate today, given where life has led me with so many changes. So I will once again post the lyric and a link to the song. May 2017 be a year full of love, life and new beginnings! Here's to life... here's to love... here's to You, my dear family and friends! Cheers!

Here's To Life

No complaints and no regrets.

I still believe in chasing dreams and placing bets.

For I have learned that all you give is all you get,

So give it all you got.

I had my share, I drank my fill.

And even though I'm satisfied, I'm hungry still

To see what's down another road,

Beyond a hill, and do it all again.

So here's to life, and all the joy it brings.

Yes, here's to life, and dreamers and their dreams.

Funny how the time just flies.

How love can go from warm hellos to sad goodbyes.

And leave you with the memories you've memorized

To keep your winters warm.

But there's no yes in yesterday

And who knows what tomorrow brings or takes away.

As long as I'm still in the game I want to play

For laughs, for life, for love.

So here's to life, and all the joy it brings.

Yes, here's to life, and dreamers and their dreams.

May all your storms be weathered,

And all that's good get better.

Here's to life, here's to love, here's to you.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s7igUYjTYIM

I Feel So Sad Today...

Thursday, June 23, 2016

Sad. That's how I feel today. I'm riding an emotional roller coaster. I hate this ride. Yesterday I felt hopeful and as though I was coming back, bit by bit. I laughed; I answered the phone; I answered the door; I made plans with friends; I was thankful for my life and for how I've been blessed. That's how I felt just twenty-four hours ago. But as the day wore on, I felt myself slipping into the darkness. That deep, vast empty hole. When I began to enter that hole, MY hole, I fought it at first, but as I slipped deeper, it felt comfortable. It felt safe. It felt like home. It somehow felt good to feel bad. And it happened so quickly, effortlessly and slyly. It snuck up on me.

When I'm in my hole, my thoughts lean toward darkness. I'm drowning in a deep, dark well. I cry endlessly. I withdraw from life; even from the people I love most. Life goes on all around me, but I'm simply a bystander. My sad, hopeless thoughts and feelings consume me. I'm just a ghost in this house. I'm just a shadow upon these walls. I don't care if it rains. I don't care if it's clear. I don't mind staying in. Actually, I can't go out. I'm stuck. I can't muster the courage nor the strength to pull myself out, so here I remain.

The voices in my head begin shouting at me, telling me I'm worthless. I'm stupid. I'm ugly. I'll never find love again because I don't deserve it. Who would possibly want me? I'm 55 years old and divorced. I'm damaged goods. I'm an emotional wreck. I have nothing to offer. I'm weak. I'm a loser. I'm hopeless. And I believe everything those voices are telling me. I embrace them and make them my reality. And I sink deeper.

Where are you, God? Where do you fit into this deep, dark chasm? I long to reach out for You; to lean on You for strength; to listen to what You have to say; to hear You tell me I AM worthy of Your love. I AM worthy of another's love. But Your voice is muffled and I can't make out Your words. So I resurrect that wall I put up between us years ago. The wall I eventually broke down. And I hate that wall.

I feel so alone in this world. Today I find myself standing on a precipice and I am teetering precariously on the edge. I feel as though I have no control over whether I will soar high above it, fall or even jump into it. I hate feeling like this. But for now, for this hour, I'll simply slog along, buried deep within. Tomorrow will be what it is. Perhaps it will be hopeful like yesterday. Perhaps it will be another today. I know not what the future holds. But I will continue to listen for God's voice... for His gentle whisper telling me all is not hopeless...

Darkness, Despair, the Storm, and the Promise of Hope and Love…

Monday, May 23, 2016, 10:30am

I wrote the following words here on my blog on May 29, 2010, five weeks after Christopher's accident:

”… I am in bed, having endured a bad day. I don't have a good excuse or reason for my bad day. It simply was.  I have taken an Ambien and consumed a glass of wine in search of the ever-elusive sleep. I am not sure why I haven't been sleeping lately. One would think that once my boy and I were home, under the same familiar roof and resting in the comfort of our own beds that sleep would be my friend.  But alas, it has not been friendly at all.”

In my 2010 Christmas letter, I spoke for the first time of the fact that everything came crashing down for me shortly after Christopher returned home from the hospital. Although I had been warned of it by his Doctor, it happened quickly, and I was slow to acknowledge its’ presence. Initially, I called it ‘the blues.’ As I wrote back in May 2010, the first sign was my lingering sleeplessness. Night after night I lay in bed, wide-awake, watching the minutes tick by. My days became a blur. The fog in which I was living caused me to be a bystander in my own home, with life happening all around me. Engaging with family and friends took so much effort. As my days wore on, the darkness grew. I cried endlessly and felt despair and hopelessness that I had never known. These thoughts and feelings were new to me and I was perplexed by the power of them.

The storm I had entered was all consuming, and I couldn’t fight it. The drive to do so simply wasn’t there. In some twisted way, the deeper I sank into my depression, the more comfortable that darkness felt. Don’t get me wrong… I hated being there. I cried out for it to end and it was painful knowing how I was hurting my family. I became isolated, lonely and terrified and found comfort by existing in my mind. I became a slave to my thoughts. I jumped from one thought to another with abandon and could not settle myself down enough to focus (which I now know is the reason for my inability to read and write). But I was powerless to do anything about it, and I discovered that it somehow felt good to feel bad.

Although I speak of my depression as something that happened in the past, it is very much alive and well today. My recent divorce has pummeled me back into the throes of it. The darkness is still all around me. My feelings of despair are overwhelming at times, and I continue to live in the midst of the storm. I've told only a handful of people about my depression, not because I am ashamed of it, but because it was a battle that I chose to keep private until now.

My wonderful kids, Nicholas, Berenice, Emily, Christopher and me

I am blessed to have family and friends who love me enough to stand by me, and it was because of their persistent encouragement that I sought help. The road to recovery however, is long and arduous. There is no simple fix for something as profound as depression. Medication helps, but that’s all it does… it helps (and it didn't work for me)! Counseling is like a breath of fresh air. This is what I said to a friend one day,

“I just finished my session and I noted two things. First of all, when I enter her office it is as though I am walking into a sanctuary. And secondly, when I walk out of her office, I feel a strong sense of peace and confidence. I feel so empowered.”

The fog was slowly beginning to lift and on the morning before my hospitalization in December of 2010 for a Multiple Massive Pulmonary Emboli, I felt as though I was gradually coming back… a little more energy… a little more positive. Unfortunately, my brush with death and then the failure of my marriage took me a few steps backward, but such is life. This journey with depression is not something I ever anticipated happening. I mean, really, depression? After Christopher’s miraculous recovery, I thought everything would be great. And when I learned of the seriousness of my illness and how fortunate I was to have escaped death, I once again mistakenly expected to be living as though I was on a beautiful high. But I guess that’s not how real life works. No, real life is wonderful, horrible, joyous and painful. It is full of surprises… some that we wish for and others that we would prefer to never cognize.

My brothers, Scott, Mark, Ken and me

As I begin to heal, I am finding that I occasionally open up, but I am learning to be gentle with myself. There are still more bad days than good. Those bad days are really ugly. I close myself off from the world, bury myself deep inside, and simply pray that I am able to get through them in one piece without causing too much pain for my loved ones. On a good day though, I am a vessel available for positive thoughts and the promise of hope. Today is a good day and this morning I heard a song that moved me to tears. It reminded me of an e-mail I received from my friend, Gloria as I was lying in my hospital bed back in 2010, crying because I was having a very bad day. I included it in my Christmas letter that same year, but her words were so beautiful that I am going to share them again…

“The Lord is with you, around you, behind and before you, knowing all of the most intimate of anxieties and fears you hold… I pray that His peace, His grace will lighten your heart as you let time and medicine heal you.  Be well slowly, gradually and patiently, hidden in the shadow of His wing…”

Gloria’s words remind me of the promise of hope and love that God offers us. Deep depression is ugly, and the shutting off of oneself is extremely painful and lonely. Letting God in during the darkest of days is simply impossible, as the thoughts and feelings that consume you do not resonate with the message of love, forgiveness, acceptance, grace and hope that God has to give. But today as I listened to the song "Times" by Tenth Avenue North, I found myself open to the message and I swear God spoke directly to me. I have written the lyric below and will include a link to the song.

My loving parents and brothers

I will continue along this journey, taking it day by day, hour by hour and sometimes, minute by minute. I will rest in the love and support of those who care for me, comforted by the knowledge that they are praying for me and available when I need them. I will do my best to remember that God’s love is over, underneath, inside and in between. I will keep telling myself that He is here through my heartache and here in the storm.. that He doesn’t care where I’ve fallen or where I have been. Over and over I will remind myself that He keeps me by His power alone, that He will never forsake me and that His love never ends.

Times

I know I need You

I need to love You, Lord

I love to see You, but it’s been so long

I long to feel You

I feel this need for You

and I need to hear You

is that so wrong?

Now You pull me near You

When we're close I fear You

Still I’m afraid to tell You

all that I've done

Are You done forgiving?

or can You look past my pretending?

Lord, I'm so tired of defending

what I've become

What have I become?

I hear you say,
"My love is over,
it's underneath, it's inside, it's in between
The times you doubt Me, when you can't feel
The times that you've questioned, 'is this for real?'
The times you've broken, the times that you mend
The times you hate Me and the times that you bend
Well My love is over, it's underneath
It's inside, it's in-between
These times you're healing
and when your heart breaks
The times that you feel like you've fallen from grace
The times you're hurting
The times that you heal
The times you go hungry and are tempted to steal
In times of confusion and chaos and pain
I'm there in your sorrow under the weight of your shame
I'm there through your heartache
I'm there in the storm
My love I will keep you by My power alone
I don't care where you've fallen, or where you have been
I'll never forsake you
My love never ends; it never ends"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MM-6rm1t9vY