To My Blog Reader Who Lost His Brother

Today while answering my first blog question I got a comment post from a blog reader who lost his brother on this very day to suicide. While reading it my heart went out him. The guilt that he held in his heart and yet the feeling of "what if" that ran through his post was such that I needed to reach out to him. So I have put answering my first question on hold for this post; for my reader.

My dear friend,

I wish I could say that your situation isn't one that I have been through; and honestly I personally haven't, but Christopher had and with that I saw what he went through. Christopher lost two cousins to suicide only just a few years apart from one another. I remember each day when he got the call and how he just sat there staring off into space while he tried to wrap his head around the news he had just heard. He was in shock and you could see that proverbial train of thought run off it's tracks as the tears flowed down his face.

I remember one day I asked him if he was ok and in good ole Christopher fashion he took every volatile emotion that he was feeling that might bring his happy world down - wrapped it up as tight as he could and swallowed it whole. What followed that was a straight faced look and then he would tell me he was "ok." But I knew better and I knew that was his way of saying he needed more time and space to completely understand what had just happened.

You are going to go through bouts of "what ifs and yeah that's it".

"What if I had just called more? Yeah, had I called more - things would be different."

"What if I had just reach out during those years? Yeah, had I just took his hand and guided him a little more this wouldn't have happened."

"What if I had just sat my dad and my brother down and did some sort of personal family intervention? Yeah, had I done that-we would all be in a very different place."

But you can't keep your self in that frame of mind. Grief is a process and one where all steps need to be taken. There will be steps that you seem to fly through and yet fall on frequently and that's ok. For me it was anger. I would go through denial and then get angry that I allowed my self to go there. I would have fits of sadness only to get angry with myself for being sad that Christopher was in a place of light and love and no longer pain. Then came acceptance; followed by the anger of how could I accept such a tragic point in my life. But the important part was I went through all the steps. You're feelings right now are, for the most part, a state of shock. The idea that time will move on and your brother won't be there to share them would be a shock to any one's system.

But you are right, you have a wife and children and they will be there for you. They will be there to show you how to break the sun into a million little pieces so that you can see the light in the darkness of this forest of grief. Don't be surprised if your dad goes through his own grief in a different way. Grief brings out guilt in people that they never thought they had. And please remember this my dear friend, your dad might go through this. He might see the error of ways he never thought at the time were wrong and maybe he just might turn to you for acceptance in his sorrow and maybe this turn takes years for him to get to. This is where his healing will begin and you must try to be there for him no matter how much time might pass between the two of you. You might have to help him go through the process of his own understanding that yes, while actions of the past might have been a contributing factor and might not, but it is important that he can look back and forgive himself for anything he might hold in his heart that would keep it from healing.

Parents are hard on their kids and some parents aren't hard enough. That's how it is when we become parents. Just remember that your dad never loved your brother any different or less; he just maybe didn't know how to always show it. Everything in life can be a lesson and one that we can debate over and over or one that changes us profoundly. Sometimes during our grief we come to the most profound reasoning and understandings. I'm sure you will encounter the same thing; it will all be when time and your mind rest long enough to allow you ponder these thoughts.

I won't lie my dear reader; this is going to be a rough and rocky path. One that only with time will the wound on your heart start to heal and it may take months and years to fully heal. There maybe times when you think you have complete control of your life and the emotions that you hold on the inside, then something as simple as someone telling you "hi" or hearing a song on the radio will break you down into tiny little bits of broken glass and trying to put your self back together will hurt as you will find those little nicks take longer to heal; but they will.

The cruel and yet beautiful thing about all of this is life still moves forward. Your kids will continue to grow and you need to use that give you the strength you need to moved forward and find that peace that surpasses all understanding.

I don't know if these words will find you any comfort. But I am glad you reached out to me. My suggestion for the next few months; focus on the day and if you can't; focus on the minute or a second. You can make it through this. It is important to cry and often. When you kids ask, tell them that "Daddy is just sad, but it's ok to be sad." Crying is our body's way of expelling stress and I'm sure your have your boat full of it at the moment. My last suggestion would be to find a group of people that have shared the same experience. And if going to a group talking to a bunch of strangers isn't your cup of tea (heck it wasn't mine for my own reasons) - then I would suggest a personal grief therapist. If that isn't really an option, then I would suggest getting a journal - write in it everything that you feel; even if it's "why, why, why" over and over from cover to cover.

My friend, if you need anything please feel free to comment in the comment section of my blog. I will keep them private and not post them; sometimes it's good just to know that someone is there listening. I pray that God, the universe (whatever it is that you faith brings you to) gives you the wisdom of understanding and the strength to make it through this.

Pax,

-d

PS - And to my reader whom this post is for (and any other readers) I've started a twitter feed for this blog. Please feel free to follow (ThenThereWasTwo) and you can ask me questions or even reach out for support.

Opening up to Questions

I'm in the mist of two rather long blog post right now that I'm hoping to get up very soon. However, like most of my post, as I write them the thought or my own self-revelation (as you will) changes slightly. Then I end up having to sit back and think even more about what it is that I'm writing about and how it makes me feel. It's a process and one that I don't take too lightly. Everything in this life is a lesson to me right now and I want to make sure I take it in for what and everything it means to me.

Knowing that it might be a few days before I will finish them, I wanted to turn this blog around a little. Those of you who read and comment - it warms my heart. It means the world to me that how Ethan and I travel through this journey touches people in a way that keeps the spirit of Christopher alive and moving forward. So I'm going to try something different. I'm opening this blog up to questions. Feel free to ask me about how I handled the news of Christopher's cancer, ask me if it's ok to be pissed at the world and everything that it holds, ask me what it is that I want in life, ask me for my thoughts on situations from anything: single motherhood, being a cancer care giver, how I handle raising a child who lost a parent, anything goes.

I want to be there for the people who read this blog as much as your comments have been there for me when I needed them. I will try to answer all questions that come and with as much honesty that I can. I won't hold back and sugar coating won't happen, but what will happen is you will know that your not alone. That there is someone else out there who went or is going through the same thing. And maybe through all of that, together we can help find what makes us all live strong.

Friday

On Friday, May 21st I would have celebrated a 3 year fight with cancer for Christopher; however, as we all know, that's not the case. I still remember that day and the call from the nurse at the doctor's office asking both of us to come in. And when I tried to blow her off she got very quite and told me, "Ms Seibert. He's. Very very sick. You need to be here."

The second I heard those words I knew. I knew in the pit of my gut what they found. It didn't matter his age, or how hard he had been working out and trying to be healthy. I knew it was cancer and I knew in the back of my mind what that all meant for our little family.

May 21st will be etched in my mind for the rest of my life. Why? It was honestly the day that changed everything. And the start of the day that changed me in a way. (But that's for another post that will be up soon.) Friday marks a time in my life when I didn't think life itself could get worse and yet I found that it could.

But it is also a day that I hold in my heart for one of the most important reasons - it was the day Christopher looked me in the eye and told me that he would fight. He would fight this cancer tooth and nail - not for himself but for Ethan, me and our family. It was a day he wasn't afraid of, but used it to give him strength. So I use this day in the same light. To give me the light and strength I need; to hold my head up high and let Christopher know that I use his strength everyday. His courage hourly. And his tenacity by the minute.

I ask you all out there who read this blog, use this day to find strength and courage in something that you feel might bring you down. Yes, life is rough and sometimes a witch; but we can all change that through our own perception of what is rough. Often times the rain in our lives just might stop if all we did was change our point of view. Pax.

My Alpha and My Omega

I am the Godmother to a wonderful little boy who turns one today. To fully express what this tender little child means to my life would be an understatement of what my words could ever express on paper; in a way he was, is and shall always be a true blessing in my life.

I vividly remember the night his mother, my good friend Amber, called to say they were expecting child number two. I was sitting in the living room, thinking about an upcoming CT scan that Christopher was going to take. With gently closed eyes, I sat saying my nightly prayers that "this" would be the CT scan that would show that the cancer stopped growing or shrank twice as more than anyone had hoped. These were always the prayers that filled my head about a month before he would go in for a scan. Before I reached the end of my prayers of a life with no cancer and everything that would go with it - the phone rang. After our friendly exchange I knew something was different or that there was something that was preoccupying her mind, so I asked... "what's up?" Amber asked me, "well hey... if I come for another visit could you take some pictures of me...." My eyes went from being completely focused to completely glazed over. I knew the reason for the phone call and the question in less time than it took for me to breathe. "We're expecting!"

I paused, took a deep breath and told my friend that I was so happy for her. And I was. But I was also so very sad. It blanketed over me as if someone had pulled a dark cover over my eyes. When I got off the phone I quickly called Christopher with tears in my eyes and in good ole Christopher fashion he knew that something was wrong before I could even say hello. I explained about the great joy that was brought into their lives and how happy I was for them, how this must be a wonderfully exciting time for them. Christopher stopped me, "d, your upset. You're upset, because.... well... we can't have another child right now. But I promise, as soon as I'm off chemo - you, me and kiddo number two… OK."

He was right. I could feel it in my guy like some strange alien that was hatching from my belly. A green-eyed monster, if you will. Here was a couple that was living the dreams, hopes and desires that Christopher and I held tightly with both hands, white knuckles and prayed nightly for. A dream of not having to worry about cancer, the hope of more children and the desire to fill Ethan's life with a sibling. And yet we could hope and dream, but we couldn't really act on it. Only hold it in our hand like a kids list to Santa and think - if I believe in him, Santa would bring it to me right? So that's what we did. And did. And did, till I got the phone call that changed everything.

Shortly after the phone call, I called Amber and explained to my expecting friend that my husband was dying; to which her, her hubby and their almost one year old hopped a plane and flew in for a week. Their visit was a blessing. Amber helped take care of some things that mentally I could not, and Marcus her husband helped me with Christopher on our visits to the doctor and outings where Christopher wanted out of the house.

While they were here Amber told me she wanted me to be her child's Godmother. And I was so honored and yet I couldn't muster up any emotional excitement from being completely drained from trying to wrap my head around the idea that my life was changing on a level that I wasn't expecting to happen for another 50 to 60 years. Time passed, Christopher passed away and I started trying to figure out how to be a single parent.

Months went on and as I approached Christopher's first birthday that he wouldn't be here to share it with us, I started thinking about all the other things that Christopher wouldn't be here for. And like any train of thought; it picked up speed and left me emotionally crashing when I came across the thought that I would never be able to live the dream of more children with Christopher. Then came the thought that the love I held in my heart for more children or to share in Ethan's life the joy of a sibling might not ever be expressed. This derailed train often came into a halt on the cusp of the thought that if one day I found someone to love and they had children - could I love another child that wasn't mine with the same fire that I hold in my heart for Ethan? And that is where my "over thinking" took over my thoughts and I think I even came to the conclusion that I would just never open my heart up to anyone because, well… it was just easier to think that life would be easier if I didn't have to do the mental work that needed to be done to even talk about these feelings with my therapist.

Then almost two weeks later something wonderful happened; a beautiful child was brought into the world and I was his Godmother. As I looked at the photos that came to me, I felt this feeling starting to grow and expand into my soul. It was the same feeling I felt when Ethan was born. It was warm and filling; it was love. I felt a feeling I didn't think I ever could, I more than cared for a child that wasn't brought into this world my me. This little boy who lived miles away and knew nothing of me was changing my thoughts on love, life and what it meant to be who I was.

I found my mornings filled with the thoughts of two little boys. The little man that reminds me daily of his daddy, who’s laugh is so intoxicating you just have to laugh with him and for no reason other than her cares, comes to me and gives me a hug and tells me he loves me; my beautiful little muppet. Then there is a little man who's blue eyes warm my heart and who smile just makes you want to reach through his photos and hug him and you can’t help but grin when you look at him. My evenings were filled with bed time stories for my muppet and kisses good night and hearing stories about the strides my Godchild took that day and listening to the “coos” that he made.

I have often thought of these two little men in my life as my Alpha and my Omega. The first and last letters of the Greek alphabet that have been used since the fourth century to express the bounding nature of God’s divinity. The bible even refers to Christ as this in reference to the everlasting and almighty power that he holds. God, Christ, the universe (again whatever it is that you believe in) existed before anything else and will exist after all else ceases.

The place I hold in my heart for these two little boys is endless and it was created before they ever came upon this earth and I will still feel this way even after the Lord tells me it’s my time. They are the first thoughts of my day and the last. They are a part of my totality and what makes me; me. They are with my thoughts always and forever and the love I share for both of them is not defined by a bloodline but the way my heart holds them together in it. They are both my little muppets who I care and love more than anything and I would spend a thousand lifetimes trying to show them this if I had the chance.

Happy First Birthday Aidan. You taught me a valuable lesson in life – one that I would never be able to explain to you, but that one day I hope you understand through the love I hold in my heart for you how much you mean to me.

Thank You To You All

I knew there were people out there that follow this blog. I figured for the most part it was friends and family; however, I have been proven wrong more times than not when it comes to this area of my life. Recently I have gotten several comments on the blog about how the story of "us" and what I have learned about myself, life and everything in between is in a word helping people.

I started this blog just a few months after we found out Christopher had cancer as a way to keep family informed of his progress. Then after he passed away I debated very long and hard about shutting the blog down. "What is the point?" I often thought to myself. Christopher is gone and who wants to hear about woman trying to make it through the day? Then one day after he passed I got an email from a friend who wanted to know if I was ok. I hadn't posted on the blog, Facebook or Twitter in several weeks.

I read that simple little email over and over and as I did I got this mental image of my friends and family sitting behind their computers, wide-eyed, continuously clicking the refresh button hoping that I would break my silence and tell the world I was ok. I remember sitting at my computer halfway slouched in my chair swiveling it back and forth wondering how do I spin grief in a positive light? So I wrote and re-wrote; then re-wrote. I didn't want to sound like I couldn't handle it, but I also didn't want to sound like I was hopped up on happy pills and 3 buckles away from a padded room. So I closed my eyes and just wrote what came from my heart.

There have been several times that after re-reading a post I question if I should even post it. Sometimes I feel like it's a little too much of my heart or soul to blast out over the web; but then again if that post touched one person - then it was meant to be out there. Often times I am told by friends and family that the blog is sometimes "a little hard to swallow" and when they tell me that I just want to tell them - "what I'm going through at times is a little hard to swallow" But I don't ever tell them that, I just say I'm sorry and move on.

Truth be known these post are the little pieces that make up me. The lessons in life that God, the universe (again whatever it is you believe in) afforded me to have. Sometimes these lessons are bittersweet like the woman I met out on the anniversary of Christopher's passing or they are hard and I struggle through them like the news of Ethan's little pre-school friend's Dad. Either way they are parts of life that I choose to look upon and reflect. The one thing I don't believe in are coincidences. Everything in life is brought to us for a reason and what we are left with is a choice. Do we choose to reflect upon it, move it to the side to look back on later or just toss it to the side as if it meant nothing? For me - I reflect and when I'm not sure what it means I write it down in my little book that I carry around to let time and my mind dwell and wrap around what it might possibly mean to me. Either way it ends up here. My revelations if you will.

Lately, I have found that there are more people than I thought that read this blog and you leave comments that touch the inner most fiber of my soul. One person wrote, "keep talking" and all I could think about was how honored I was that this person took time out to write to me - to share their inner most thoughts with a perfect stranger. Someone else commented that she was so moved that she texted her hubby a simple, "I love you". I cried on that one. I know the feeling of being so moved that you just want to reach out to the one you love and just let them know that you "love them". And you tell them this simple I love you because to expanded upon the complex feelings that you hold in your heart would take you days, so a simple "I love you" just sums it all up. All your comments warm my heart for the one and main reason that your comments mean that the story of "us"; the stories of a single mom trying to figure it all out as she goes, the love that she holds in her heart for the man that was taken too soon and the son that is the greatest blessing in my (and Christopher's) life; keeps Christopher's spirit and memory going. So one day I can show Ethan when he is older that even though his dad is gone, his life and the lessons we all learned from his passing touched the lives around him.

I guess what I am trying to say is, "Thank You to you all." Thank you for reading, for sharing your comments - they move me in a way that I don't think I could ever put words to at this moment. But trust me when I say - I read them and cherish one-by-one for what each one means to me. Thank you for taking time to follow this blog and most of all for leaving your thoughts with me. Again - words could never give the proper thank you, but trust me when I say it comes from my heart, expressed through my spirit and expounded upon through my soul.

Pax to you all...

April 18th - Happy Birthday My Love

To My Love,

Happy birthday Love. Today you would have turned 35 and even though you would have put up a fuss that I not make such a big deal about today - you know I would have. There are times that I wish your Mom were still with us so I could call her and thank her for bringing such a wonderful man into the world. I would give anything to tell her what an incredible person, man and father she raised. To explain to her in infinite detail how you were so gentle and kind; yet strong and forceful when you need to be. To expand upon endless boundaries how I love you in all the ways you were and wanted to be. I would give anything to give her a hug to let her know how special you were and are to my life, to tell her that I would climb to the tallest point on earth and shout to the heavens that I was proud to be your wife. That even though your gone your lessons in life still teach me daily about what it means to have had someone who cared so deeply for me and our child and with such love and vigor. You truly were one of a kind Christopher.

I have to say my love that I have done allot of growing since this time last year. Last year I sat in my room after Ethan went to bed and I cried; God I think I cried for hours. The idea that your birthday came and went and you weren’t here to celebrate it with me and Ethan was the strangest feeling I had never felt before and trying to put words on it would only down play the feeling that resided within me. However; time, therapy, whatever the variable was that did it, made this year different. This year I didn’t feel the pain of not being able to celebrate your birthday, but instead I embraced it as another milestone; a different sort or milestone. Today marks the day that I spent the same amount of time without you that I did standing by your side in this battle with cancer.

I’ll be honest love, the idea that your birthday marks this milestone is very strange and sometimes in my mind very unsettling, but then again you always had a thing with dates and getting things just the way you wanted them so the meaning meant more than anyone could fathom. So I chalk this up to just one more thing you “got” your way. And to be honest, I don’t really think it could have happened on a better day. Because I will remember this day with all the love and hope that I hold in my heart.

Love you were a fighter. I knew that; hell, I more than knew that. Anyone that really knew you knew that. In fact, that is the one thing that most people remember about you; your spirit and will to fight for what you believe in. No matter what other people though or what ever way the tides of thought went, you fought for what was right and you never took the easy road of just agreeing to agree. One of the things I have tried this year to do is to hold on to your fighting spirit to help me get through this. To never just go with the flow and well there are times when I fail and I fall into the traps my mind sets for me of people thinking I should be this way or do things at this time and it takes everything I have to try and fight off those thoughts. I’m always trying to think, “if Christopher was here what would he tell me” and I always come back to…. “d, you think and worry to much”. I can hear you voice and see your gentle face when this radiates between my ears. But what can I say; I’m your little worrier. I always have and as I try not to be, it’s hard and one of my personal mental battles that I still to this day I am working on.

This year has made me a little rougher around the edges, I won’t lie. My sarcasm that made you roll over laughing is a little more sarcastic (well if you compare “little” to something you get at one of those membership bulk stores). But my heart and the love that I have for you is still there, still loving every moment that we shared together – that will never go away. One of the lessons I have learned this year is that just when you think the worst is over and life has given me a chance to breathe and take in what I have learned – it’s not. There is always a new curve ball in the form of new struggles as a single parent, places and feelings that my mind seems to dwell and just what life itself throws me everyday. I have spent almost every walking moment that I have a free time to think contemplating what all of this means to me. And my answer to all of this seems to be one that is ever changing. No one answer is the right answer and the answer I come up with on a Monday often changes by Tuesday. However the one thing that keeps me sane in all of this is the fact that you used to tell me over and over when something would drown my mind and consume it – “you do what makes you feel good and what you know is right, hell be damned.” And well – hell has been damned a few times… But I am still standing and for most part I think I have done all right. I think you would be proud of me, I know I am of my self.

You know my love, for as much as I would give up the world to have you by my side; I also know that you are in place where there is so much light and love that it fills my heart with peace. And even thought there are nights when I lay in our bed and reach out for your pillow. I don’t think I will ever get completely used to the idea of not being able to feel you on my finger tips or seeing your cocky grin that just made my days (and my heart) fill with a sense of joy as if there was secret inside joke that only you and I got and understood. But through all of this; I also know that you are in a place where love and light fills your heart, a place where you can still look down and see the progress and strides that Ethan takes everyday in life. And there are times when I think – “how in the hell am I suppose to do this all by my self?” This is when I close my eyes and feel you all around me, thickening the air that I breath, reaching in and dancing around my heart, mind and soul; comforting me the same way you did before all of this. Thank you my love for all the memories you left with me to share with Ethan one day.

Happy birthday my love. I love you.

-d

A Year & Half Later

Today marks 18 months from Christopher's passing and for one of the first times in a long time; I can't say that it only feels like a month ago. To be honest it feels at times like it's been five years. I often find my self looking at pictures of him around the house and thinking back to when the photo was taken - it seems so long ago. Even longer when I try to think back to a time when there was no cancer (or at least that we knew of at the time).

The 18th this month marks what would have been Christopher's 35th birthday and like in good ole "d" form there will be a post in the form of a letter to him on that day. So for today I just want to keep this little post brief; trust me there is nice long one in the works coming soon. But for now; I'm keeping it simple. 18 months today I lost the man I love to cancer, but in his death I choose to find meaning and hope that he is in a better place with no pain, no cancer and most of all filled with light and love. And that gives me a peace that warms my heart from the inside out.