Friday, January 6, 2012

Don't Throw Your Trash in My Backyard

I was out in my yard today when a wayward piece of wrapping paper blew by. It was not a pattern I recognized. Annoyance flared up at having to pick up someone else's trash. A little thing, I know, but this is one day after mysterious tire tracks appeared going straight down the length of our front yard. In the middle. Between the trees. Not anywhere near the driveway. Weird and annoying.

I started thinking about having to clean up other people's crap, and why it annoys me so much. I mean, as mothers, isn't that pretty much what we do-- move piles of stuff from one place to another, day after day, year after year? I guess it doesn't bother me as much if it's my own family's crap, you know?

For there have been many times in this journey of parenting that I've felt the residue of other people's crap linger on my family. You know-- the tough issues, the drama, the complications that we would not have to face if we just chose to live an insular life. And as I look over the strange direction our lives have taken, with Jack's death, it is easy for me to say, "If only..." If only we had kept more to ourselves-- circled the wagons so to speak-- perhaps we could have kept the awkward, the uncomfortable, and finally the tragic from entering our lives. If we hadn't opened ourselves up to others, if we hadn't given our kids a growing sense of freedom, if only, if only...

This is the point in the post where we all say, "But of course we can't raise kids in a bubble!" It's one thing to try to be the family who bucks the tide against violent video games; it's another to isolate children and keep them from interacting with others and experiencing life." You know-- We are the world, Kum ba yah, carpe diem, hakuna matata and all that stuff.

But truly, it's hard to think in those terms when I yearn for a fantasy in which the 4 of us, the dog, and maybe even the hamster run away to some ice floe in Antarctica-- completely alone, yet together, and blissfully free from the tinge of other people's crap. Of course I would be cold, and extreme changes in body temperature do not a happy Anna make. And the kids would hate us, and there would be no internet or friends and we would be ruining their lives. And Tim would want to get frisky but can he not see that I have the damn igloo to keep clean and that 24 hours straight of light or darkness or whatever messes with my libido?

The more I think about it, however, the more I realize that, in reality, our crap is all over your backyard now. You never asked to be part of this tragedy. To have to explain to your kids that, yes, children do die. Maybe your child is one of Jack's classmates, a tender 12 year old who is trying to figure out how the clever boy who entertained the classs for more than 6 years could be sitting there one day, yet gone next. That cannot be easy.

Maybe you are trying to figure out how to regain a feeling of security and safety after yours has been rocked. "If something like this happened to them, what could happen to us?" Maybe your husband, after weeks of sympathizing is saying, "It's okay to feel bad for someone, but you are taking this grief thing too far. You have your own family to worry about." Maybe we have been friends for years and you want the old Anna back, or you feel helpless in the face of such a huge loss. Maybe you found Jack annoying and don't know what to do with those feelings, or you found him delightful and don't know why your own boy keeps screwing around when at least he gets to live, damn it!

Maybe you are trying to figure out why the life and death of a child you never met, perhaps on the other side of the world, wakes you up at night, or drives you to your knees in prayer. Is this normal? How long will this last? Maybe you are having sympathy fatigue and wishing you could read something here about spray paint or dumpster diving or the annoying way Tim chews. Maybe you are feeling closer to God than ever as you see how He is comforting us through this, or perhaps you are feeling farther from Him than ever before... before our crap landed in your yard.

I may not know your individual situation, but I know that when you come here, our crap lands on you. It must. If my family had and did lead a insular, bubble-bound, existence we would not be sharing in this way, either because the accident never took place, or because our suffering would be private and polite and reach only a small circle of people.

And my wish would be to never make my friends, those I have met and have yet to meet, suffer needlessly. Yet in the suffering, the suffering together, you help carry us. You bear our burdens, you pray, you care, just as we are all asked to do. And that can be messy, and confusing, and crappy, but somehow Holy, too.

122 comments:

Cindy said...

Brings a whole new meaning to the term, "Holy crap." Love you.

Patricia said...

Dearest Anna: Anyone who is here, reading, is here because they want to be. I think we are all sharing our grief together (not to say for a minute that we could feel exactly as you do) and in sharing the heart wrenching grief together, we are all getting through this together. Because I think as humans, as mothers, we all know how life can change in a millisecond, how tenuous this all is. I know that I check daily to see if you have posted; I have to know that you are okay, that you are getting through the day, and that your family is ok. Your crap is all of our crap....

Anonymous said...

Are you running blogger focus groups now, too? ;-) How you can be in the midst of the worst category of grief there is and still be so incredibly perceptive about what your readers/friends/ neighbors are going through is an amazement to me. And while we all wish none of this crap happened to you, I think it is safe to say we are GLAD it landed in our yard. By allowing us to suffer with you, you have given us a tremendous gift. You must know that! Yes, my husband thinks I'm obsessing, but I have perspective now that I did not have before I began to follow your journey. And, as you know, people want to help. It is what we were all put here to do. It seems ironic how trying to help someone heal from a tragic death can feel so life-affirming.

Heartfelt gratitude and blessings on you and your fam.

ella said...

I'm a stranger who was drawn to your blog in the days immediately after that horrible day. I've wondered more than once why I'm so drawn to this tragedy...why I physically feel the pain (a mere fraction, no doubt) you must be feeling. I can't explain it. I can only say that if coming here, commenting, reading your thoughts, and listening to your stories eases your burden in any way, even for just a moment....well then I'll be here every single day.

To Cindy...Holy Crap, indeed! Thanks for the laugh (through tears).

Anonymous said...

As I'm reading this, I'm listening to Casting Crowns 'Already There'. My future is His memory. Good thing SOMEBODY knows what's going on! My own experience is that I'd never be able to *ahem* shovel the shit, if you'll pardon my english, and walk through the crap if I didn't have the support of people working through it with me. And it makes me different. I don't want to be the Miffy I was before. I wouldn't be who I am now if I hadn't shoveled the brown stuff. I hate that. I have so many regrets & what-ifs. But 20 odd years down the road, I see His hand in the really bad & ugly, caring for me. So, sweet Anna. Don't worry about us. God has put us here, eyes on your blog, your dear face, for His reasons. It is MY PRIVILEGE to obey - to watch, listen, weep, pray. To grow. Nobody poops sunshine & farts rainbows. Nobody. Love you for who you are, how you are. Keep on keeping on. One breath at a time.

Anonymous said...

sympathy fatigue....never
crying over a young boy I never met....often
saying "what the johnny"...once a week? ..yest
living more day to day instead of waiting for tomorrow...trying my best
learning more from you than I have since 2009 since my mom left me...priceless

Anonymous said...

Oh, no, no, no, no ----I am thankful your crap landed in my backyard. Oh so thankful. (And still wish your crap had not ever landed in YOUR yard...)

Sweetie - you are the best and I have never even met you.

And yes, I had to explain that kids die, but that was also because I had to explain that, "nothing is impossible with God"...and one of the places i really learned that. And I also got to learn, through my own wrenching trials this year, but articulated so much better by you, that a little genuine empathetic acknowledgement goes a long way.

Still praying...and thanking our good God (who I think I Know a little better now because of you and yours) for having the privilege of sharing in your crap.

Love,
Lisa G.

Erin said...

"Carry you through" is what I think each of us here hope to do, however small we may feel before pressing publish. I once worried this box of words could not convey how deeply your path has woven into my own, our own. Now I see it differently. You know we show up here to put you high on our shoulders and let you rest while we do the work for a while. We would build you your own sustainable ice floe if it would help bring back the way things were for your family. We would send you text messages through your igloo bubble and make snow angels on your lawn to celebrate. Your crap is our crap and we will have it no other way as long as it is helping. xoxoxo from Falls Church

Rachel said...

I'm new to your blog, so I don't even know your "before" life. But I haven't stopped thinking of you and your family and precious Jack. And I am the better for it. Your trash in my backyard is heavy, but in the best possible, life lessony kind of way. You are amazing. In some way, you have begun to mother us all...thank you.

Steph said...

Oh, Anna, you blow me away with your ability to think of others and their world. I treasure your writing and pray you feel all of us holding you up even though we've never met. Much love.

Anonymous said...

We are all here sharing your crap because we make that choice. We all grieve (fractions of what you do) right along with you. You are giving an invauable gift to each of us. I still have no idea why I am drawn to your blog knowing that each post could be heart wrenching. I do know however through all of your pain you are teaching every one of us how to grieve, how to live, and most of all how to do it with grace!

The Empress said...

I can't think of any greater honor than to be called upon to help shoulder a burden.

None.

Love to you, dear woman.

MaryBeth said...

Once again I can't decide if I'm laughing or crying! You bring out both responses in your blog.

Praying for you!

And I just have to say it - because it is so true...

CRAP HAPPENS.

(even to nice Christain families)

Marathon Mommy said...

I actually stumbled upon your blog for the first time today. I read your story of Jack and I looked at his pictures and I cried. I was sitting at work and I sobbed like a baby. I had to excuse myself and go to the restroom where I continued to cry. Sure, your crap is now in my yard but as you said, isn't everyones? I am the mother of two sons, and your "crap" has made me want to get up from my desk, run to their schools and hug them fiercely until they beg and plead for me to stop.

I have suffered loss. My first husband died tragically at age 37 when my son was an infant, and I survived. Thrived even. But through the grieving and loss I always thought if anything happened to my children, I would most assuredly be unable to survive.

Your strength, faith and your beautiful honesty have reminded me of what I already knew but have admittedly forgotten: we go on living because we must--because life, no matter how painful or unfair or short...is a gift.

Hugs and support to you...
MM

thepurplerose said...

It's not that you dumped your crap in our backyard--as friends we came to your backyard to help you pick up the crap!

XOXOXO

Anonymous said...

Yes Anna, your crap has landed in my backyard. And I cry for a boy and a family I never knew. Though he doesn't say a word, my husband's looks, if he sees me reading your blog, say "you didn't know them, let it go." As the mother of three beautiful brown-eyed boys 11, 8, and 6, your story has rocked me to my core. And so I hug my boys a little longer. Look lovingly into their eyes a little longer. Snuggle on the couch with them when I should be doing something else. Indulge their relentless requests for "just one more kiss and hug" at bedtime, which I never did before. I live more deliberately each day drinking them in. And so your crap has been a gift. One I'm sure I'll never get to repay. Thank you Anna, for sharing your grief. I wish with every cell in my body that you didn't have to let go of your beautiful brown-eyed boy.

Mariah said...

Keep on dumping...:)

Cat Alford said...

Today I went to the beach and on a big flat cactus was scratched in the name "JACK" in all caps, and I thought of you.
xoxo
Cat

Judith said...

As everyone before me has said in one way or another, we are put on this planet to ease each others burdens, to carry others when they cannot take another step, to weep and laugh with them........and that is why we are all here, day after day, hoping to lift you and Tim and Margaret up by our prayer, comments & support, but also GAINING so much from the sharing of your journey. God blesses us all as we share your pain, cry with you and laugh with you. And we each come to know you all so much better. Jack was a gift in your lives, and now, even through such tragedy, he is a gift in all our lives, too. Thank you, Anna, for sharing him and yourself with me. I do not take it lightly. (And having worked as a medic and in the ER for years, I have no problem dealing with other people's crap LOL!!!)

Anonymous said...

Anna : crap :: jbhat: toilet.

I am here for you, as I know we all are, and we don't mind if the bowl is no longer pristine.

This is life. Crap happens, right, and when my friend's crap lands in my toilet, yard, hand, heart, I don't mind.

love,
jbhat

Anonymous said...

PS) My husband is also an annoying chewer.

love,
jbhat

macmac524 said...

In a few paragraphs you summed up pretty much every thought that's run through my mind w/respect to why I follow your story. My husband never actually said he thought it odd I was so affected by a family I didn't know, although I could sense he felt it. So, on the drive back from my parent's house after Christmas (4 + hours) I read many of your blog posts to him (how I love a captive audience... particularly my husband).
He recounted later I said, "listen to this" no less than 6000 times during our drive.
All this to say... my stoic, minimal emotion showing husband has asked about your family many times over the last few weeks. You can add one more heart to the 'involved in your crap list.'
Some of the sincerest sentiments I've ever heard/read in my life have been posted on your blog. I'm certain there must be a million reasons why your story resonates w/so many.
Bottom line.. a great many people care about you and your family and seem committed to standing side by side w/you no matter how deep the crap.

A Speckled Trout said...

Your crap is not in my yard. I believe that's your heart out there.

Ellen Stewart (aka Ellie/El/e/Mrs. Seaman) said...

Glad to know Tim is still chewing in an annoying way.

meghann said...

Oh, Anna…The universe has left its crap in your backyard. I only wish that by taking some of that into mine, I could make things better for you. It breaks my heart that I can't… xo

Sharon @ Elizabeth & Co. said...

I'm in Anna, I'm all in!

Carol-Anne (Use the Good Dishes!) said...

It's would be an honour to have your crap in my yard. or anywhere else it landed.

Anonymous said...

Anna - i've read your blog for many days before and after Jack's accident.. some times not saying a word - sometimes trying to find ways to comfort... All i know is that not a day goes by that i don't think of you, Tim and Margaret and feel the pain of your loss. All of these milestones are part of the grieving process. One step in front of the other. Your wonderful son Jack is forever ingrained in my heart and soul. pls keep sharing.. It helps to hear from you each and every day.. Much love to you, Tim and Margaret. Pls know that by sharing Jack's life, he will never never be forgotten. xoxo Patty

mia said...

Anna, as moms that's what we do... Carry people's crap, I wish there was some way to all pitch in and lighten your load.. You are teaching us all so much about life and grieving and faith... We are all here because we want to be... Much love, mia

Margaret E said...

Anna,

Since Jack's accident, have you ever gone back and read the post you wrote about your friend whose daughter has Rhet(not sure I spelled this correctly) Syndrome. At the end, you say something to the effect: Sometimes you think "This is not the life I signed up for" and then you go on to say "But, remember you are never alone." Well, you are not alone!!! What you are doing, by sharing you grief, is so important. So many people are afraid of grief, run away and hide. Refuse to face how painful grief can be. By saying to people: "Hey this is my life and right now it really sucks" you are helping people and yourself and Margaret and Tim. Because life is good and bad and sad and messy and crappy, but how lucky we are to live and love!!

Be well Anna, be well

Margaret

Leah C said...

I am in awe of you...truly in awe.
And I wish we lived in a world where crap never happened.
Hugs and prayers...

Editrix said...

Lovely, lovely post. We are here with you, sharing in your sorrow and your joys. Thanks for letting that happen.

Lou said...

This place. right here. is holy ground.

Danielle said...

Anna,

This was profoundly and beautifully written. You are so honest. I didn't know the old Anna. I wish I never knew the new one because it was only through Jack's death that I found out about you. But I can say this ~ I love this Anna.

Crap and all.

geri said...

sweet anna, you don't need to worry, not one bit, how another mother is going to explain a 12 year old boy's sudden, tragic death to her children, or whether someone draws closer or further from God after hearing about how someone who loved God so much had his life cut so short, or whether your friends want the "old" anna back or not (and my guess is that anna is gone, maybe not all of her, but yes, this is a life changing, person changing type of experience)or anything other than what you and your family need to do to survive this horrible loss. as the buddhists say there is only one suffering, only one joy.

Lisa said...

I will gladly pick up your crap..and that's what we moms do..we want to help, nurture, save, love, support. I know you would do the same.

My oldest reminds me of your Jack. I admit, I hug him tighter, listen longer, and try to absorb it all in more...because we never know what tomorrow brings.

Anonymous said...

Anna~
It is out of love, our honor to pray for you and to hopefully lessen your burder.

hezro said...

Anna, I stumbled onto your blog this evening after reading a post on Momastery's page. I eventually wandered to Jack's story. It eventually triggered a memory and I remember reading about this in the paper when it happened. I'm sitting here with tears streaming down my face, trying to comprehend the incomprehensible. My heart breaks for you. There is nothing that terrifies me more than the thought of something happening to one of my children. I can't even imagine what you've been through, are going through still. But I wanted to reach out to you and thank you for sharing your story. I thank you for reminding me about what is truly important. You have generously opened your heart and shared your story. I wish I could offer you something in return. But I do hope that you will find peace. Blessings to you and your family.

Franny said...

You are helping us see, very up close and personal, how life can go on when the worst happens. We all know it's out there. Seeing how God works people through the worst is a miracle.

kristin said...

As I think you understand, this is not crap. This is the farthest thing from crap. It is the stuff of life. Reading your words helps us feel what it is to be human, it awakens compassion and kindness, and it gives us hope that, even in our darkest hours, we might be able to access the kind of grace and wisdom that you have found. It is a privilege to have your "crap" land in my yard.

Jennifer M said...

I haven't stopped praying for your family Anna. Your writing is beautiful.

Thank you for continuing writing. I can't bring myself to go back to the beginning and read your past posts. Is that weird considering I don't know you or your family? I only just met you from being a monkee and didn't even realize that monkee Anna and Jacks Mom Anna were the same person until just recently.

You have an amazing faith that makes me want to be a better Christian, mother and person. Thank you Anna

Eileen said...

Anna, I stumbled upon your blog a few days ago, from a link from Young House Love. I was confused at first, because I saw headings like "grief" instead of a project you were working on. And then I read. And read. From current entries to the accident. I truly could not sleep that night. I kept thinking, "that beautiful, beautiful, boy." The next day I read all the entries again, this time from the accident forward, and my heart broke for your family again. I can only imagine your pain. One of the things that got to me is that my 8 year old son looks much like Jack. Last year, my son was seriously injured. He is OK now, but for a few agonizing hours, we were not sure if he would survive. We were simply watching a minor league baseball game in the stands, having a lovely night. He was hit in the forehead by a line drive foul ball, which caused cranial fractures and bleeding on his brain. Life changes in an instant. That event (which in no way compares to the magnitude of your loss) shook me to my core and changed me, in both good and bad ways. I felt like I was at the edge of a cliff, but I got to step back. I am in a running with 2 moms who have lost children, one to cancer, another ,like Jack, in an accident while playing with his friends. Since my son's accident, I have realized that I could do more to be supportive of these incredibly strong women. As one of them told me, it is just so important to them that their children are remembered. Prayers, hugs and love to your family.

Anonymous said...

You are more than welcome to dump all sorts of crap in my backyard. We can go through it together, leave it where it lands, or I can bag it all up. You are a remarkable writer and although I have never met you, I have often prayed for you and your family.

Peace,
Eliza

Laura at Ms. Smartie Pants said...

Your honesty and words take my breath away! There is a beautiful scripture I keep thinking of when I see and hear of all the support you get. It is in Exodus. It tells of a battle, Moses is to keep his hands in the air and his people will prevail but when his hands go down his people do not, at one point his hands grow weary and so Aaron and Hur set him on a stone and hold up his hands to steady them until Joshua defeats the enemy. I think of all of us who pray and mourn for you from afar and those that hold you and cry with you as those who are holding your hands up when you get weary. It's a beautiful visual!

ClancyPants said...

My name is Clancy and I am yet another stranger who is caught up in your son's warm, brown eyes and who is captivated by your eloquence in expressing your grief and loss. Not only eloquence, but your generosity in sharing your grief with the world.

You said this: "I may not know your individual situation, but I know that when you come here, our crap lands on you. It must. If my family had and did lead a insular, bubble-bound, existence we would not be sharing in this way, either because the accident never took place, or because our suffering would be private and polite and reach only a small circle of people."

And I loved your paragraph of redemption at the end... "And my wish would be to never make my friends, those I have met and have yet to meet, suffer needlessly. Yet in the suffering, the suffering together, you help carry us. You bear our burdens, you pray, you care, just as we are all asked to do. And that can be messy, and confusing, and crappy, but somehow Holy, too." ...That unraveled me and I'm still wiping tears.

May I be so bold to say that we all carry our own crap and tend to share it with whoever will listen? That seems to be human nature. Yet, I have never in my life felt so edified, uplifted and connected by someone's "crap" as I have while reading about your family and your grieving process. The boundlessness of your love for Jack, Tim, Margaret and God and your graceful words that express your love, your grief and the painful transition into this new reality have pulled me in and moved me in ways I cannot explain.

And so, I thank you, Anna, for tossing your "crap", as you called it, into my yard.

I don't know you, but I love you, your son and your family and I am praying for you in Idaho.

(I don't know if this means anything, but as I was reading this post, this song was playing on my YouTube playlist and it really touched me. I've read your posts about the special communication that comes to you in song, so maybe I am supposed to share it? Or maybe it was just for me... to help me feel the things I need for healing my own version of loss that you and Jack are enabling me to connect to? Either way, it's good stuff.)

Love,
Clancy In Idaho

Lady Jennie said...

This provokes so many thoughts that I don't know quite what to say ... but some random thoughts are:

I was surprised at the level of grief I felt for Jack, when I didn't know you at all before the tragedy. But if shows how real the friendships through blogging can become. The emotions are so raw when you (when one) writes that you skip all the years of pleasantries at the schoolyard and get right to the heart of the matter.

I'm not sure if my grief was heightened by a sudden awareness that it could happen to me, since I seem to have born with that awareness. (It helps to keep me vulnerable, but it can also be pretty heavy and annoying).

While garbage in my lawn is a pain, someone else's pain (yours) never is. It's not the same thing. Plus, we read willingly but we don't offer up our lawn as a garbage heap at all freely. Still, the analogy was beautiful and profound.

And, I love you. I'm glad you continue to write and share your crap. :-)

Anonymous said...

This was absolutely amazing.

Anonymous said...

Wow - Your words continue to consistently BLOW ME AWAY! I am one, although I've never met you, who spends long amounts of time grieving over your situation. On Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, your family came to mind more than once - and what an odd thing, when I don't know you in "real life" But it's just that, what you're going through is my WORST FEAR - as with most mothers, I'm sure. But I think what makes me read and re-read your blog is the way in which you are GETTING THROUGH this and the way in which God is meeting you where you are at. Not that it isn't the most escruciatingly painful thing in your entire life, but that you are learning and teaching and living and all those things....it makes the black cloud of "what if" over my head get pushed away a little bit, because through your story I'm realizing that God is in control, no matter what.
So, thank you, thank you, thank you for sharing your story - no matter how painful each word you type is - it is ministering to so many out here......

Anonymous said...

Clancy in Idaho - what song? The link won't work??

luv2run said...

If this is crap......I love this shit!!!!!!!!!!! Excuse my language please!!!!!

We have only met once...at the Vienna Halloween Parade where I was compelled to hug you and to say I am praying for you......even though we dont KNOW each other.

Jack introduced you into my world and probably because we live in the same town and have a mutual friend. I recieved the pray request the tragic night he went missing and then my friend called me to ask if I knew you.

I also read Momastery and crazy enough there your story was mentioned as well.........at the time if felt strange....here you are bumping into my life. WHY? So I came to your blog and I read every post in two days, totally ignoring my kids/husband because I couldn't put the computer down. You were changing my perpective in life. I HAD TO READ THIS INCREDIBLE CRAP!!!!!

Also, your story, your CRAP isn't CRAP to ME!!!! Jack has made me a better mother, friend, wife and teacher. YOUR CRAP is our dumpster diving.......thank you for sharing.

I am around to read as much as you want to write and I am here to support someone who I don't know because I care for your family and I know Jack is up in heaven making a difference,.......I'm shear proof!

So.....keep the crap coming!

Hugs
luv2run

Jill said...

Dearest Anna. Love knows no boundaries. Nor the size of ones junk yard. Keep dumping.

And when the mood strikes, go diving. Because you have an amazing way of managing to make the most beautiful things out of your "crap"

Princess Kate said...

We are ALL here to support you Anna and the "crap" that you have been dealt. AND that's what friends are for. We are ALL here to hold your hand and MOST importantly acknowledge that your son Jack is someone making a difference in each of our lives and all over the world for that matter. God how I wish he was in your house right now running up and down the stairs, play Wii or creating a Lego spectacular but I can't make that happen. But what I can make happen is HONOR him for all he has accomplished in 12 very SHORT years and PRAISE him for what he is doing now (changing people's lifes in such a very positive way)

Kate Coveny Hood said...

I love what Jill said.

And any sadness and discomfort that your story may bring others are the unfortunate byproduct of an incredible gift that you've given them. All of you. Your family for having to live through this...you for writing it...and Jack through guiding it.

I truly believe that your son is working hard to make a difference - to help others. He is now the missionary he talked of someday becoming. Look at how many people around the world he has touched. But no matter how far his reach, he is always with you. His work may reach around the globe, but he will always be home in your hearts.

Japolina said...

Somehow I came across your blog after the tragedy. I just keep coming back to check up on you. Please keep writing. We are here to help.

Anonymous said...

Anna,

I could not believe it when I read your post yesterday. Our neighbor's trash can was full and their dogs had gotten into it and it was literally strewn across both of our yards! I then read your post later in the day and laughed thinking about my initial reaction of thinking their "crap" was in my yard! May we all remember that life is full of that and stop to bear one another's burdens--big or small. Please know that those of us who read your blog are more than happy to do that for you whether it's nearby or across the miles to lift you up in prayer!

Allyson in Alabama

Laura said...

I hate that this is the trash you are dealing with right now - and would give anything to have your precious Jack back in your arms. They do say, though, that one person's trash is another person's treasure . . . and Anna, believe me - you are a treasure. Your words, your stories of Jack, your sharing your sweet family with us, and the countless ways Jack is changing so many lives for the better - is a treasure beyond measure. Thank you for letting us sift through your trash with you.

Anonymous said...

Life can be crappy sometimes but thank God for grace to face it. Thank you for sharing your heart again.
Sandie brown

anymommy said...

Now I'm laughing through my tears because Cindy's comment is fabulous perfection and I say HOLY CRAP all the time and I will never ever think of it the same way.

kitty said...

Grief is all around us.It is a part of life.My husband came home the other day.He told me a man someone he did not know from his work had died.He was only 38 years old.He had a heart attack.This is not the saddest part.The saddest part is his daughter woke up from a bad dream.So he took her in his arms to console her.As he did this he had a heart attack and died.Just like that.My husband did not know this man.He only worked with him.But there grief is now our grief.We are praying for them.As we will continue to pray for you,your family and all those around who need our prayers.

Anonymous said...

If I didnt want to see your crap in my backyard, I would just move. But alas, I choose not to because I see that your crap is too much to bear so I will help you pick it up.

Meredith Self said...

"Clean up, clean up, everybody, everywhere...clean up, clean up, everybody do your share." OMG I'M SINGING BARNEY! HOLY CRAP!

I'm SOOOOO glad you don't live in a bubble.

The Mommy Therapy said...

Having your crap in my life has given me moments of profound sadness, terror, and a deeper connection to this amazing gift of life. I am grateful for how bodly you have shared your every emotion and experience since losing Jack.

Yesterday, my dog suddenly started have seizures and wouldn't stop. By 11 pm we had to put him to sleep. As I stood by the table, sobbing and holding him, I suddenly thought of your sweet, sweet son. I prayed in that moment for him, for your family, for my family's adjustment to life without a beloved pet....and as ridiculous as it sounds, I loved the idea of Jack meeting my Indiana dog in Heaven. It felt like the best kind of lunacy, it brought me great comfort.

My little boy has been crying all morning, trying to wrap his heart around not having his pet. He loved my idea though that God needed our amazing dog to give the amazing children in Heaven the joy of having a pet like Indiana.

Your crap is worth sharing, important, and uniting for so many of us that don't even know you. Thank you Anna!

Tanya said...

The reasons that I was going to use to explain exactly why I read your blog have been used by the 62 comments before me. It has made me a better parent to my 8 year old grandson. More time for Apples to Apples and Star Wars Monopoly, less time worrying if the house is clean. I don't know if it lightens the grief to know that so many people are thinking and praying for your dear family, but I hope it does.

Joyce said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anonymous said...

Anna..thanks for sharing so much of your life with us. I pray continually for your family. It does not matter what part of the world we are in.. we are all in this journey of life together
We have all made a big circle of love and support for your family world wide. Think of that circle when your days pull you down as they rightly will..think of us all surrounding you and your family...praying and sending prayers up to God.
Much Love!

Joyce in Canada.

Catherine B. said...

Anna,
At the beginning of the school year the new principal at Mt. Erie, where my 2 daughters teach, and 4 of my grandchildren attend, was called away because his nephew had drowned in a flash flood. I read in the blog world about the loss of Jack, and of course I put the two together. I have told Peter a number of times how your blog has touched and changed me. I pray for your family A LOT. My own faith has become stronger. We HAVE to believe in God's promises! The many signs from Jack send shivers! Thank you for sharing your words, lives, struggles, and faith on your blog. Reading it is life changing and far reaching! Praying for your family.

lelknits said...

I dont know you personally and will probably never meet you but have been reading your blog for months, starting just before Jacks death.

Dont think for one second that what you share with us is crap......or if there is, for want of a better word, crappy stuff in there, it is wrapped in the most beautiful understanding of a human being that I think I have ever read. We can only be so completely moved by what you write becuase of the depth and breadth of your understanding and love of Jack. We should all be so lucky that someone KNOWS us so well, that they can tell the world exactly who we are, and the world can love us without ever meeting us. That is remarkable, and so Dear Anna, are you.

Aimee said...

I miss Jack too, and I've never met him! It could have easily been one of my kids that was lost, and my kids have absolutely NO FEAR too. I'm just a mom with kids, and knowing that this kind of tragic accident coud easily happen to one of my kids. A week ago, my 4 yr was so close to getting hit by a truck. :( Gone just like that! I was lucky that time..... I feel like I want to keep her in a bubble but she'll never grow if I choose this route. I feel your pain, I really do. I know my words don't help ease any of it, but just want to reach out to you and give you my support through this terrible nightmare.

Aimee said...

Beautiful Anna~

You do not know me. I am all the way over in Utah and stumbled onto your blog through a friend's post on Facebook. I read your entire blog all day yesterday and into the night. I have four children, the oldest two are almost the exact ages of your two, a boy and a girl. When I told my daughter your story, she cried for you, and for the thought of what she would do if she lost HER best friend. I was in the grocery store this morning, and I found myself thinking of you again, about how hard doing those simple things would be if I were going through what you are going through.

So, Jack is being remembered, and he is making my life, and the life of my children, more meaningful. I will share your story with anyone who will listen, so people all over can remember the life of your sweet boy.

And may I just say, you are stunning, and graceful, and glow in the knowledge that your son is with God, and he is looking down on you and so proud of what you are doing for the world, for complete strangers like me. I am a better person because of the stories you are willing to share; because you are letting us into your lives. Your family is now in my family's prayers, and we love you.

Anonymous said...

Anna - you are SUCH an incredible writer. I hope that it helps you at least a little through this because it certainly helps the rest of us. I don't know why Jack's death has captured so many of us, but I don't consider it crap that I have felt so much sadness and grief for a family I have never met. I can only hope that the prayers that are being said by me and so many who don't even know you are helping in some small way. I prayed today that you continue to have strength to get through each day, and that when you have happy moments, you don't feel one single ounce of guilt for finding a way to get through this CRAP that has been dealt to you and your family. Interesting that lately, my 7yr old son (whose name happens to be Jack) has discovered the word "crap" and loves to use it. He got in trouble for saying it just today - your post will help me ease up a little and maybe smile instead of getting so mad whenever he says it! Thank you for continuing to write. You have a gift and thank you for sharing it with the rest of us.

Shannon said...

Anna, I am so sorry to read of your dear son's passing. I found your blog today via another blogger. Our son, Ethan, passed away June of 2010 in a water-related accident too. Please feel free to contact me if you need someone (who can pretty much relate to what you are going through) to lean on. God has called me to minister to bereaved mommas. God bless your sweet heart. Hugs!!!
Shannon
jwallace9@gmail.com

Vodka Mom said...

crap, crap everywhere and not a drop to drink. (But remember- NEVER crap the teacher.)


love you Anna. And I know from whence you speak.


Almost.

needsatimeout said...

@ThePurpleRose probably said it best, although I stopped reading after that comment. We come by to help you pick up your crap. I for one check your blog almost daily and it has helped me grieve through my own losses. I share Jack's story when I feel the need to and think of him often. (I can't yet pray on a regular basis but I think thinking of him is good)
Think of you often and am happy to see updates from you please continue to throw crap. errr you know

Jenn @ Juggling Life said...

Your insights, and your expression of them, never cease to amaze me. You and Jack are changing lives--as all these comments attest.

Anonymous said...

You are extremely hilarious (frisky)...your crap has done nothing but lift me up in hopes of doing better tomorrow. I suck as a mother at least once a day. Jack reminds me to relax and let the little things go, like when someone carves their name in my coffee table. xo

tara said...

I just read a letter written by a woman who lost her 19 year old son just before Christmas.

She opened up her email last Thursday to find that three different friends had shared with her the same thoughts.I want to share with you the same words that she found such comfort in:

"I must come to a place where I accept that God is completely sovereign, and that though this was never His design, He still saw it in advance, and was able to stop this chain of events from happening - but did not. Of all those in our world who knew what was going on with our precious son, and who could have protected him and changed the outcome, He was the most able. But, He didn't. And yet He loved our Patrick (your Jack) many times more than all of us put together.

I will continue to hold you and Tim and Margaret in my prayers.

Kim @ A Brush of Whimsy said...

Your authenticity is so refreshing, Anna. I admire how you write with such honesty. Sometimes you say things that we're not "supposed" to say, but we certainly all think. Your writing takes us all into your heart. Jack's and your family's story has touched all of us here so much.
Hugs,
Kim

Arlene said...

Hi Anna,
I have tried to post here a few times but didn't have an account and when I got one, I guess I erased my post by mistake!! Anyway, I also have been following your posts since Jack's untimely and tragic accident. I am so sorry to hear of Jack's passing. I wasn't aware that you even wrote a blog until a friend of mine in your town forwarded me the link. I used to be in your Bible Study and we met by chance over the summer at the church bookstore where you worked. It was lovely to see you again and I remember you mentioning Jack's name to me because I recalled that you had a son, but we had moved back to Canada in 2004. I remember buying the Work in Progress CD and I was also searching for the right journal. You showed me the selection that you had and I finally chose the one with the poem,Footprints in the Sand on the front cover. I just wanted to let you know that I think of you often, I drop in fairly often to read your posts and I also pray for you and your family as you try to go on with your lives each day in the aftermath of Jack's death. You are such a talented writer and your blogposts are so honest. By sharing your "crap" with the rest of us, you are teaching us life lessons about how to cope with tragedy in our own lives. None of us are or will be unscathed, although some experience more valleys than others. In your lowest hours, you are selflessly giving of yourself to help others. It's really amazing that you have the will to reach out to us and share your stories amidst your deep suffering. But I recently heard a quote that said, "To give is to liberate the soul." Writing is also therapeutic as I have discovered over the years with all of the journals that I have kept. So I truly hope that by processing what has happened as you journey on one day at a time, you are not only helping your readers, but you are also helping yourself. God bless you, Anna, and your family as you continue to struggle to come to terms with your forever changed world. Hugs to you.
Love,
Arlene

Scottish Lass said...

We choose to come. To read these beautiful words.
I never did get a photo posted but there is a blue ribbon for your son, around a tree here in our Northern Californian yard.
A reminder of all you have said so eloquently in this post.

Hollywood Farm Films said...

Don't stop writing! It's beautiful, insightfully human and incredibally healing.

One day at a time.

Thank you,

Keep writing! :)

Kristin said...

It's been days, and I keep thinking about this post. I think it points to two essential truths. The first is that, even if we move to Antarctica, everything on earth is impermanent and constantly changing and we can't hold onto anything, no matter how desperately we might want to or how much we try to insulate ourselves from risk. And the second is that, as much as our culture doesn't want to believe this, all our crap is communal. It really is sacred when we can feel our connection to the rest of the world. So please don't move to Antarctica. We would miss you.

mgh said...

Just love you, Anna.
I love this post. Coming from a family that has left a lot of crap floating around, I really get this. I get that some people do not EVER want to see my litter. But there are many others who would gladly accept my apology as I race around trying to pick up the pieces. And, a precious few like you did when the shit really hit the fan, who even offer to help in any little way they can.
The fact that I feel like an emotional Pig Pen walking around in a haze of issues makes me wonder....
If I were a good writer maybe I could take this whole analogy further... maybe explain that all of our crap together makes a good-for-something compost bin.
But the new trimester has started and I've got homework to do. So I'll leave the writing to you and get on this math stuff.

Rach said...

I come to check on you all, to assure myself you are doing "okay" in spite of everything. Since I come willingly, I don't believe I could say you are throwing your trash in my backyard.

I come to check on you and comment to let you know I care and am praying for you.

Hugs to you and your family.
Rach

Anonymous said...

I am happy to share some of the "holy crap." Praying, praying, praying for you and your family--and all of us who grieve for a boy many of us never knew except through the loving words of his mother.

--Editdebs

Cris said...

Anna, blessings to you, Tim, and Margaret.
Just let me say how much I appreciate your honest, frank, heart-wrenching posts. I am one of those newbie bloggers who came acroos your site not longer after the accident. Good Heaven above, I had no words. But, as I continue to pop in to see how you are doing, and relish your wit and wisdom as you traverse such foreign territory, I am also struck by the comments from all the other Anna & family supporters. It is so clear that we are family...ALL OF US! We don't need to know each other personally; But, in the big picture, we are still family. And loving, caring family
members are willing...wanting...to help another with the
crap that lands in our "yards." A shovel-ready brigade, alert, and on the march 24/7....with no apologies expected.

Mary S said...

I have a really big back yard. Dump all you want. Your sharing of Jack's life and death is a rare gift and in no way crap. You make us think, love, cry, and laugh.

My husband and two step sons are all noisy chewers. I swear I think they hollow heads that amplifies the noise.

Anonymous said...

I can't stop reading your blog either. Your words and honesty help. I have a severely disabled son. He cannot see, or speak and will never do any of the things, that your son will never do, although under very different circumstances. It helps to hear someone raw and hurting. Someone who is not polite or trying to tie a pretty bow on a very ugly situation. I cannot make sense of your tragedy, I don't have powerful words of comfort either. But, I know what it means to burn with longing, and I'm thankful for the opportunity to process your "crap."

Anonymous said...

Your blog is on my favorites bar. Why? I'll never be able to explain. I'm like a moth to a lightbulb. You and your words have changed me and I feel selfish taking from it. But then I realize that is God's work - from this huge senseless tragedy there are little miracles around the world. Little lightbulbs going off every minute. So, selfishly, please keep writing about your crap. I must hit your blog 2-3 times a day just waiting for your next incredibly mind shifting post. It has been an honor to know about this, follow this and pray for you.

Welcome to my world! said...

I came to your blog via momastery and her entry
"Don't Carpe Diem". What irony that entry brought me to you...

I read your entry and then I read every entry clear back to the one where your beautiful babies had their first day of school just a mere 3 months ago, before your life became unrecognizable and foreign. I read every entry with tears streaming down my face with hurt and loss for someone who lives 1200 miles away from me, that I have never met and whose child I never got the privilege to know. But somehow after reading your words, I felt like I had known this beautiful boy and your precious family. It was like we were sitting at your kitchen table and you were speaking to me about this beautiful life that had been...

I wanted you to know that because of your story I am changed and humbled by the power of love and God in each of your lives.. Your son had a beautiful life because you were his mother, Tim was his father and precious Margaret his sister...and you all still have a beautiful life to live ahead of you because he was yours!! I lift up your family in prayer and will continue to do so, I will pray that God continues to bring you signs that Jack is okay in the quiet times and that these signs will give you comfort and peace. I will pray for you and your husband that the beauty of Jack,which you created together with God and who you entrusted to God even in death, will weave your relationship so tightly that it can never be unwound. I will pray that Margaret will emerge into young adulthood with hopes and dreams for the future, without fear, and the peace of knowing her brother will be like her northern star, guiding her as he would as a big brother here on earth.

Since reading your blog last night i stayed up thinking, long after my two children were asleep. I thought about why things like this happen and wished something could brIng your sweet Jack back to you and your family. He was a rare bird indeed, inspiring people he never even met to be better mothers and fathers in the moment because we never know how many moments we have left...thank you for having the courage to be so open and honest with your familIes story. Peace be with you.

K A B L O O E Y said...

Oh, come on, girl. Now even your crap is beautiful. You amaze me. Stop worrying about us; you've given us so much more than your realize. As has Jack.

zcan said...

I have to admit that I do want the old Anna back. But only because that Anna had both of her precious kids. That Anna had already experienced enough loss for one lifetime. So, yes, I would love to have that old Anna back. Unfortunately that Anna is gone. So instead I will walk beside this new Anna, just as she has walked beside me. I am certainly not the same person I was seven and a half years ago, when I had two perfect girls and had no idea what Rett Syndrome even was. I would not have survived without the love and support of people like you. I will never leave your side.

mosey (kim) said...

The reason I joined the blogging community originally was because crap or not, I felt less alone being a part of someone else's life while I read their stories. I wish that somehow the old Anna was still here, because it would mean that Jack was still with you on your iceberg. But he's not, and I love and walk parallel to this present Anna.

marissa said...

You did not dump your crap on me, I come here to dumpster dive and carry some of the crap off for you.

I need to know that your family is making it through the toughest of times--and I would much rather read about your daily steps through this difficult time than read one more syllable about the Kartrashians. Reading about them just makes them richer--hopefully us reading your story helps you as a family unit, because on the days when you feel alone, you should know that strangers care, a lot.

Hugs.

Deb said...

Yes, everything you say is true - this wakes me at night with worry, but also makes me appreciate all that I have a bit more.

I don't know you, but I just want to say that you are a very special person and family and if this helps you, I am honored to be part of it.

Leslie said...

Oh Anna, nothing I've typed is sufficient. Praying for you. Praying, praying, praying. And thank you for this profound post.

Anonymous said...

What a great post! But hurting, sharing, caring, ... all of the good the bad and the ugly, to me, is life. I live in NYC. In the news recently here a woman lost her 3 children and parents in a fire on Christmas day. At their funeral service she said I lost everything but all that I have left is love. All that matters is love. I keep thinking of that and reminding myself of that. Love is all there is.
Patti

Heidi said...

What an incredible post. And, at the end, how our bearing and sharing is holy? Profound, beautiful, and as someone stated above 'I'm all in'...that. I'm all in.

ALI said...

I found your blog after Jack's passing.

I was drawn here through God's works via other Mom blogs I read. I believe others were as well. We all welcome carrying some of your load. Jack has changed me & how I look at the times I spend with my son. I'm trying to focus on quality in our shortened quanitity. I'm energized to share the Lord with my son, in hopes he follows Jack's walk of Faith.

We may never know you in person, but we welcome to lighten your burden, as you have enriched our lives.

Praying for you to find strength & peace... Even now, when it seems inconceiveable...

kimberwidmer said...

Your ability to process never ceases to amaze me. You are empathetic in grief, and still deliciously funny, even amidst the tears.
I am reminded of the story of the paralytic in Matthew, who needed four friends to carry his mat and lower it through the ceiling of the home in which Jesus was speaking. Since he couldn't walk by himself, he had mat-carriers to help shoulder the burden.
I'm so honored to be one of the legions of mat-carriers. I'll do it for as long as you need.
I also was reminded of the people in the tornadoes of April 27 whose trash, photos, lives were blown into yards hundreds of miles away. They didn't ask for their world to be blown to bits, or for others to find their stuff in their yards… but it happened.
Whatever we need to do to help you piece your lives back together after this joy-stealing twister in your lives is an honor.

Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child, my child
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child, my child

If I can walk on water
And calm a restless sea
I've done a thousand things you've never done

And I'm weary watchin'
While you struggle on your own
Call my name, I'll come

Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child, my child
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child, my child

I give vision to the blind
And I can raise the dead
I've seen the darker side of Hell
And I returned
And I see those sleepless nights
And I count every tear you cry
I know some lessons hurt to learn

Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child, my child
Lay down your burden, I will carry you
I will carry carry, my child, my child


I will carry you, my child, my child
I will carry you

Ann Imig said...

Sharing crap is what makes true friendship.

Yes, you can cross stitch that.

Junie said...

Still here, still praying, still remembering.

I hope our being here helps; if not much, then a little. If not now, then some day.

Anonymous said...

I'm also a stranger to you. I moved to your town in July, just before Jack's accident. I was somehow directed to your blog in the days right after that and have been following since. I have cried with you, prayed for you, and hugged my two small children harder every day for you. (I have a 3 year old son whose personality is very similar to Jack's by the way) I have a great deal of admiration for how you're navigating through this tragedy, the most terrifying of all nightmares. I will continue to read and follow your journey... I wish that there was something more that I, or anyone, could do to ease this pain for your family. I also regret not having known Jack. He seems like a remarkable young man, and your daughter is a hoot, by the way :) What a special child.

Katy said...

Last year one of my son's kindergarten classmates had a freak accident with her jump rope. She fell off the side of the porch and it was wrapped around her neck.

Her death was all over the local news here, and I didn't know how to explain what had happened to her to my son Jack.

I think he was too young to understand the horror of it, from my point of view. From his point of view, she just moved. Sort of like she went to go live with her dad.

And I guess it's the truth, isn't it. And I still hate it.

onewomansperspective02 said...

I love your writing! Thank you so much for sharing. I'd never quite thought of it in those terms before.

Our son, Jason, was broadsided by a drunk driver who was going more than twice the speed limit. Both Jason and his best friend died instantly. I guess I would have to say that most people we knew at the time didn't want the trash of our tragedy in their backyards...there had to have been some reason they all disappeared...

Jen Luebke said...

It seems in today's society we are so much more secluded with technology. It is amazing to me that through this technology, you have allowed us to feel "human" again by being able to support, cry and pray with you. I truly hold such a special place in my heart for your Jack. Thank you so much for sharing him with us.

Linda said...

Anna, it's a privelege to pick up your crap. God Bless.

Anonymous said...

Been in a bubble with my husband traveling and me taking care of my three kids (4, 7, 9) alone for three out of every six weeks, so I just learned about your loss. I am so sorry. He was beautiful. Your loss is unfathomable but your response to it inspires me to hug and kiss and love my children more because life is so precious and so fragile and so beyond our control. Just know that, for the present, every time one of mine says "mama," I say a prayer for you.

Jodie said...

Anna- I think I speak for most people here when I say that we are humbled to be able to have some small part of this journey with you- and that while we cry with you, even if we are strangers, we are so grateful for the opportunity to be a teensy part of your healing process. We will all gladly take the grief if it lessens yours in any way. Please know that so many people are here with you.

melanie said...

that's certainly not how i have been looking at this...

i have felt guilty--i don't know you, is it weird to keep reading your blog? is it voyeuristic? or something else weird but easier to spell?

you are showing me what it means to survive in the face of incredible grief. through you, i am learning what it means to rely on God in the face of unspeakable sadness...

you are carrying me by sharing. thank you for letting me peek on just how you go about this...

Anonymous said...

Beautiful, beautiful post, Anna. The flip side is grace - enough for all because it is so much more beautiful - like when the snow clings to the barren tree branches lifting upward - reaching higher - for more. Personally, I could use more snow and less of this crappy rain. Respite-filled grace to cover over the mess. It does bring new life in the end. Or maybe I could join you in that igloo...

Hugs and a prayer!

the mama bird diaries said...

I'm honored to have your crap in my yard. Sending love and prayers.

Sharon said...

If only we could ease your burden by carrying your crap. I thought only of one thing while reading this post, " No Greater Love." Crap.

PeachPrenni said...

First off, you truly are one of the greatest writers I have ever known. I know you don't care about that right now, but I have to say it. Truly amazing! I fall into the category of "the life and death of a child I never met has woken me up at night and driven me to my knees in prayer." But guess what--I DO think it's normal and I'm very fortunate to have a husband who never says, "that's enough grieving--you have our family to think about." He grieves with me. I think your Blog Is part of God's plan and He has connected you to mother's everywhere who share your burden and attempt to lift you up in any way they can. I will never feel like I am cleaning up "your crap" when I read this Blog. I feel honored to be a part of it and I thank you ALWAYS for sharing. I have learned so much and I know I am a better mother for it. Blessings and Love, Annie

amourningmom said...

What a beautiful post. Thank you for allowing us readers to share in your life. I wish that there was not any crap - especially when it involves children dying before their parents.

I believe that if it were not for to other people (family, friends and sometimes strangers) the journey of life would be much more difficult than it already is. Sending you peace.

Miss Mustard Seed said...

When I come to your blog now, I know this is what I'm going to read about and I'm almost certainly going to laugh at something incredibly witty Margaret said and get teary eyed over Jack. When I read about him, I see my five year old boy and hurt for you. But I know that's what I'm getting and and I want to come hurt with you as a blog friend.

A Lady's Life said...

This isn't crap.
We all have children and the pain is real for all of us when one of us loses a child. That's the worst night mare any Mother could have.
My deepest condolences Anna.

Anonymous said...

Wow, you're so insightful of how others may be feeling about your family's loss.

Michelle

William L.Darby said...

This is very interesting, You're a very skilled blogger. I have joined your feed and look forward to seeking more of your fantastic post. Also, I have shared your web site in my social networks!
KT Deluxe Marker Case

Anonymous said...

Anna, your crap is my crap; dont you ever forget that. Love to you, Aleta

Dani from NC said...

"Maybe you are trying to figure out why the life and death of a child you never met, perhaps on the other side of the world, wakes you up at night, or drives you to your knees in prayer. Is this normal?"

I found your blog through Glennon's Momastery blog. I have read as far back into the archives as the night of the accident. I hope it's okay to be commenting this late on this post, but you called it. I'm trying to figure out why this has ripped my heart out. I sat at work weeping while reading what you wrote. There are no words I can offer but I hope it's okay to say that, through your writing and tributes to him, I have fallen in love with your Jack and also your family. I will be praying for yall. Thank you for sharing and helping me better understand my own grief over losing someone close to me as well. xoxo

ClancyPants said...

I left a comment in early January and the song that I left a link to didn't work. Just barely saw that. I probably would've left it alone, but I noticed someone else ask about it, so here's the link to the song I heard. Like I said, it was probably just healing for me at the time.

http://youtu.be/tGsU4vuJAIo

"PJ" said...

Remember Proverbs 17:17