"A woman who has given birth to a child, a female parent" - these are among the first dictionary definitions for the word mother. Obviously they don't even begin to touch the true meaning of the word. As a verb it means "to take care of" and as an adjective "that carries another or others." These are a little better but still not quite complete. If you read further down the list of definitions the figurative meaning is "the largest and most perfect example." This one says it all about what a mother is or should at least try to be. I am lucky enough to still have not only my mother but also my grandmother in my life. They have been through more than their share of hardships and difficult times, but they remain shining examples for others. Both have a strong faith in God and a determination to live their lives in a way that benefits others. They are the best examples I could possibly have for being a mother myself.
While I don't even pretend to think that I have been the kind of mother that my mother and grandmother are, I have tried to learn from them. I hope that I, along with both of them, have in some way shown Trey what it means to take care of and to be there for others. For a time after Eddie died, I know I wasn't what Trey needed me to be, but thankfully my mother was there to step in and fill the void. Now that I'm "back on my feet" I plan to always be there for Trey and to help him in any way that I can. I know that I can never be "the most perfect example," but I will be the best example I possibly can.
This is my fourth Mother's Day since Eddie's death. I will always think of him on this day, just as I will always think of him on Father's Day, because we are Trey's parents. Having a child with someone creates a bond that exists even after death. Eddie's no longer here to be a parent to Trey, and while I know I can't replace him, I'll do my best to fill that void for Trey.
What is a Mother?
It takes a mother's love to make a house a home -
A place to be remembered no matter where we roam.
It takes a mother's patience to bring a child up right
And her courage and her cheerfulness to make a dark day bright.
It takes a mother's thoughtfulness to mend the heart's deep hurts
And her skill and her endurance to mend little socks and shirts.
It takes a mother's kindness to forgive us when we err,
To sympathize in trouble, and to bow her head in prayer.
It takes a mother's wisdom to recognize our needs
And to give us reassurance by her loving words and deeds.
-Helen Steiner Rice
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Saturday, May 5, 2012
A Love Like That
Several weeks ago I attended a presentation of "Good Night Gracie" at a theater downtown. I go to these shows/plays every couple of months with a group of my friends and always look forward to what's coming up next. I honestly wasn't excited about seeing this one though for several reasons. I knew who George Burns was, but I was only familiar with him from a few of his later movies. I knew he was married to Gracie Allen, but their television show went off years before I was born. I don't think I've ever even seen a rerun of it anywhere. Although I remembered thinking Burns was very funny when I saw him on television or in a movie, I wasn't sure how funny the person portraying him would be. The main reason though was that it was a one-man show, and I just didn't think one person talking for two hours would be that entertaining.
I couldn't have been more wrong about the show. The person portraying George Burns did an outstanding job. He had his looks, speech, and mannerisms down perfectly. After a short time it was as if we were actually watching Burns. He told the story of his life from the time of his childhood until his death. There were parts of recordings from his radio shows played over the speakers and clips from his television show shown on a large screen which added to the performance. Throughout the show the one thing that came across clearly was George Burns' love for Gracie Allen. Even though it wasn't actually Burns talking, I could see, hear, and feel how much he loved Gracie. He loved her from the time they met and continued to love her long after her death, until the day he died. At one point in the show George was sitting on a bench in the cemetery talking to Gracie - fifteen years after she had died. He said he visited her every week to let her know how he was doing and to tell her what was going on his life. I understood perfectly what he was doing and why. Even though I don't go every week, I do go to the cemetery to talk to Eddie. I tell him what I'm doing and what's going on with Trey and Emily. Sometimes I even take pictures of Emily to show to him so he can see her growing up.
After the show I thought a lot about how special it would be to have a love like that. I wondered if I personally knew anyone who had experienced that kind of love. One couple came to mind - my grandparents - Memaw and Papa. They were married for 58 years, and although my grandfather died in 1992, my grandmother still loves him today. I know their marriage wasn't perfect or easy (no one's is). They lived through the Depression and raised five children on a preacher's salary. They added a second income much later when my grandmother began teaching. They had their ups and downs just like everyone else, but they worked them out together, and they NEVER gave up. When my grandmother talks about my grandfather, it's obvious how much she still loves him - just like when George talked about Gracie. When she tells stories about their life she always calls him "Daddy" or "Papa", and to this day she still wears her wedding ring, a symbol of their eternal love.
I realize that, unfortunately, very few people get to experience that kind of love in their lifetime. I loved Eddie, and I know he loved me, but I'm not sure it was that kind of love. I am thankful my grandparents were able to have it - they deserved it more than anyone I know. I am also thankful that I was able to see it for part of my life and to continue knowing about it today through my grandmother. Memaw and Papa are shining examples of what true love is - just like George and Gracie.
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."
1 Corinthians 13:4-7
I couldn't have been more wrong about the show. The person portraying George Burns did an outstanding job. He had his looks, speech, and mannerisms down perfectly. After a short time it was as if we were actually watching Burns. He told the story of his life from the time of his childhood until his death. There were parts of recordings from his radio shows played over the speakers and clips from his television show shown on a large screen which added to the performance. Throughout the show the one thing that came across clearly was George Burns' love for Gracie Allen. Even though it wasn't actually Burns talking, I could see, hear, and feel how much he loved Gracie. He loved her from the time they met and continued to love her long after her death, until the day he died. At one point in the show George was sitting on a bench in the cemetery talking to Gracie - fifteen years after she had died. He said he visited her every week to let her know how he was doing and to tell her what was going on his life. I understood perfectly what he was doing and why. Even though I don't go every week, I do go to the cemetery to talk to Eddie. I tell him what I'm doing and what's going on with Trey and Emily. Sometimes I even take pictures of Emily to show to him so he can see her growing up.
After the show I thought a lot about how special it would be to have a love like that. I wondered if I personally knew anyone who had experienced that kind of love. One couple came to mind - my grandparents - Memaw and Papa. They were married for 58 years, and although my grandfather died in 1992, my grandmother still loves him today. I know their marriage wasn't perfect or easy (no one's is). They lived through the Depression and raised five children on a preacher's salary. They added a second income much later when my grandmother began teaching. They had their ups and downs just like everyone else, but they worked them out together, and they NEVER gave up. When my grandmother talks about my grandfather, it's obvious how much she still loves him - just like when George talked about Gracie. When she tells stories about their life she always calls him "Daddy" or "Papa", and to this day she still wears her wedding ring, a symbol of their eternal love.
I realize that, unfortunately, very few people get to experience that kind of love in their lifetime. I loved Eddie, and I know he loved me, but I'm not sure it was that kind of love. I am thankful my grandparents were able to have it - they deserved it more than anyone I know. I am also thankful that I was able to see it for part of my life and to continue knowing about it today through my grandmother. Memaw and Papa are shining examples of what true love is - just like George and Gracie.
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."
1 Corinthians 13:4-7
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Learning to Stand
Recently I've become aware of many songs with words so appropriate for what I've experienced that I could have written them myself. It makes me wonder about the people who actually wrote them - are they writing from personal experience, did they have a tragedy in their lives, are their words from the heart or just made up in order to entertain others? Many of these are older songs, so obviously I'm just paying closer attention to music now than in the past. One particular song, "Stand" by Rascal Flatts, says exactly how I felt in the beginning and what I've done to get through this as time has gone by. The song begins with "Like a candle in a hurricane - a picture with a broken frame" which are perfect descriptions of what it was like in the early days following Eddie's death. It was all I could do to keep myself going. My life had completely fallen apart and everything both around me and inside of me was broken. Even though I knew I wasn't, I still felt "alone and helpless". I was fighting a constant battle to survive, and for a long time I felt as if I were losing the fight. Everyone kept telling me I would be alright in time, but it was difficult to believe them.
There were many times that I felt I had reached my breaking point, but something inside of me (I'm not sure what) kept me going, no matter how much I wanted to give in. I didn't believe I had what it took to move on with my life after what happened, but something or someone was always there to push me forward just when I needed it the most. I spent a lot of time praying for help and asking God why/how this had happened to me. My prayers weren't always answered immediately, and I never received an answer to the why question. But I kept asking until eventually I had the strength I needed, and I realized the why didn't matter quite as much anymore. God seems to know better than we do what we need and when we need it!
Sometime during this past year I finally reached a point where I decided I'd had enough. I was hurt by what had happened, I still had questions, and I was mad about the whole thing. Eddie's suicide disrupted my life for a long time and changed the course of it forever. But I suddenly knew I couldn't let it control me forever or let it define my future. I made the decision to take back my life before it was too late. It wasn't as simple as just "shaking it off" like the song says, but it wasn't impossible either. I started to put my life back together, one piece at the time. It has been a slow process, and sometimes I wondered if it was worth the effort. Now I know that it was. I've learned what I'm "made of" and know that I am strong enough to go on. It almost scares me to say this, but I think I may actually be happy again.
"Stand" by Rascal Flatts
You feel like a candle in a hurricane, just like a picture with a broken frame. Alone and helpless like you've lost your fight, but you'll be alright, you'll be alright ... 'Cause when push comes to shove you taste what you're made of. You might bend till you break cause it's all you can take. On your knees you look up decide you've had enough. You get mad, you get strong, wipe your hands, shake it off, then you stand ... Every time you get up and get back in the race, one more small piece of you starts to fall into place.
There were many times that I felt I had reached my breaking point, but something inside of me (I'm not sure what) kept me going, no matter how much I wanted to give in. I didn't believe I had what it took to move on with my life after what happened, but something or someone was always there to push me forward just when I needed it the most. I spent a lot of time praying for help and asking God why/how this had happened to me. My prayers weren't always answered immediately, and I never received an answer to the why question. But I kept asking until eventually I had the strength I needed, and I realized the why didn't matter quite as much anymore. God seems to know better than we do what we need and when we need it!
Sometime during this past year I finally reached a point where I decided I'd had enough. I was hurt by what had happened, I still had questions, and I was mad about the whole thing. Eddie's suicide disrupted my life for a long time and changed the course of it forever. But I suddenly knew I couldn't let it control me forever or let it define my future. I made the decision to take back my life before it was too late. It wasn't as simple as just "shaking it off" like the song says, but it wasn't impossible either. I started to put my life back together, one piece at the time. It has been a slow process, and sometimes I wondered if it was worth the effort. Now I know that it was. I've learned what I'm "made of" and know that I am strong enough to go on. It almost scares me to say this, but I think I may actually be happy again.
"Stand" by Rascal Flatts
You feel like a candle in a hurricane, just like a picture with a broken frame. Alone and helpless like you've lost your fight, but you'll be alright, you'll be alright ... 'Cause when push comes to shove you taste what you're made of. You might bend till you break cause it's all you can take. On your knees you look up decide you've had enough. You get mad, you get strong, wipe your hands, shake it off, then you stand ... Every time you get up and get back in the race, one more small piece of you starts to fall into place.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
The Love of the Game
Even though I'm "movin on" with my life, Eddie (and his death) will always be a part of me. I'll always feel a sense of sadness that he's not here anymore. I'm sure there will still be times when I get mad about what happened. I will always wonder what my life would have been like if he had lived. And I will continue to have regrets - not regrets over what I did or didn't do, but regrets about the things that Eddie isn't here to see and be a part of. He hurt his family and friends tremendously by taking his own life, but in the long run he hurt himself more than anyone else. He deprived himself of the chance to experience so many things that he would have enjoyed and that would have made him happy and proud.
One of my favorite pictures is of Eddie holding our granddaughter Emily when she wasn't quite a year old. We were at a softball game where he and Trey had played together on the same team. She was holding her hand up like she was waving, and he looked so proud. Emily started going to softball games when she was just a few weeks old. Before she was old enough to even know what she was doing she would clap her hands and squeal during the games. When she started using a walker she would roll herself right up to the fence and watch like she knew exactly what was going on. Now five years later, Emily is playing softball herself. I've been to her first two games, and the experience was priceless!
If you've never watched a team of 5-6 year old girls playing softball, you don't know what you're missing. Competition hasn't become a factor yet, so they're all out there just to have fun, and they provide as much enjoyment for the spectators as they do for themselves ... half of the team going after the ball in the field, running from home to second after a hit, going from third to the dugout when the coach says go home, sitting on the infield building dirt piles, standing on top of home plate when it's time to bat ... all priceless images. When Emily goes up to bat though, she's very serious. She has her stance just right, the way her daddy has taught her. I've watched Trey practice with her in the yard and it's like watching Eddie work with him over 20 years ago. I can only imagine how much enjoyment Eddie would get out of watching Emily play softball. He was a great player, he passed his love and talent on to Trey, and now it's being passed on to Emily. I don't know how long she'll play or what kind of player she'll turn out to be, but this is an experience that Eddie shouldn't be missing. I'm thankful that I'm able to be a part of it for however long it lasts.
"Maybe we could spend a moment at the end of each day and decide to remember that day - whatever may have happened - as a day to be grateful for. In so doing we increase our heart's capacity to choose joy." Henri J. M. Nouwen
One of my favorite pictures is of Eddie holding our granddaughter Emily when she wasn't quite a year old. We were at a softball game where he and Trey had played together on the same team. She was holding her hand up like she was waving, and he looked so proud. Emily started going to softball games when she was just a few weeks old. Before she was old enough to even know what she was doing she would clap her hands and squeal during the games. When she started using a walker she would roll herself right up to the fence and watch like she knew exactly what was going on. Now five years later, Emily is playing softball herself. I've been to her first two games, and the experience was priceless!
If you've never watched a team of 5-6 year old girls playing softball, you don't know what you're missing. Competition hasn't become a factor yet, so they're all out there just to have fun, and they provide as much enjoyment for the spectators as they do for themselves ... half of the team going after the ball in the field, running from home to second after a hit, going from third to the dugout when the coach says go home, sitting on the infield building dirt piles, standing on top of home plate when it's time to bat ... all priceless images. When Emily goes up to bat though, she's very serious. She has her stance just right, the way her daddy has taught her. I've watched Trey practice with her in the yard and it's like watching Eddie work with him over 20 years ago. I can only imagine how much enjoyment Eddie would get out of watching Emily play softball. He was a great player, he passed his love and talent on to Trey, and now it's being passed on to Emily. I don't know how long she'll play or what kind of player she'll turn out to be, but this is an experience that Eddie shouldn't be missing. I'm thankful that I'm able to be a part of it for however long it lasts.
"Maybe we could spend a moment at the end of each day and decide to remember that day - whatever may have happened - as a day to be grateful for. In so doing we increase our heart's capacity to choose joy." Henri J. M. Nouwen
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Happy New Year
No, I haven't lost my mind. I know it's not January 1st, the official New Year's Day. But for the last three years time for me has been measured by how long it's been since Eddie died. March 16th marked three years since his death, so March 17th was the beginning of a new year for me. The first year was all about survival ... remember to breathe, try to eat, put one foot in front of the other, make it from one day to the next. The second year was about restoring some order to my life ... getting back into a routine, staying busy, going back to school, beginning to make some changes around the house. The third year became more about taking care of myself ... doing things I enjoy, getting out of the house more, reconnecting with old friends, buying things I wanted whether I really needed them or not!
At some point during this past year - though I can't pinpoint just when - I began to come to terms with Eddie's suicide. I haven't fully accepted it (and I may not ever), but I know now I can live with it. I know what happened, even though I don't understand it. I know I couldn't have done anything to stop it, but I still wish I could have. I will always have questions, but I know I'll never get answers to them. What happened had a profound effect on me, and I will be a different person the rest of my life because of it.
Now as the fourth year begins, I don't have any major resolutions. Finishing my specialist's degree (which I should do in October) is at the top of my list. I plan to continue going out with my friends and spending time with my family. We'll make our yearly trip to the beach this summer - maybe I'll even find time to go more than once this year. I'm looking forward to a reunion with some of my best friends from college. I don't really need anything else for myself or the house, but if I see something I like I'll probably get it. I plan to look more towards the future and not dwell on the events of the past. I can retire from teaching in just three years, so it's not too early to start thinking about that! I don't know what the future holds, or even what it is that I want to do with my life from here, but I do know that I can do whatever I want whenever I want. I'm back to living my life one day at a time again - the difference is that now it's because I want to, not because I have to.
"I'm Movin' On" by Rascal Flatts (2001)
I've dealt with my ghosts and faced all my demons, finally content with a past I regret. I've found you find strength in your moments of weakness, for once I'm at peace with myself. I've been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long ... I'm movin' on ... At last I can see life has been patiently waiting for me, and I know there's no guarantees, but I'm not alone. There comes a time in everyone's life when all you can see are the years passing by, and I've made up my mind that those days are gone ... I've loved like I should but lived like I shouldn't. I had to lose everything to find out. Maybe forgiveness will find me somewhere down this road ... I'm movin' on.
At some point during this past year - though I can't pinpoint just when - I began to come to terms with Eddie's suicide. I haven't fully accepted it (and I may not ever), but I know now I can live with it. I know what happened, even though I don't understand it. I know I couldn't have done anything to stop it, but I still wish I could have. I will always have questions, but I know I'll never get answers to them. What happened had a profound effect on me, and I will be a different person the rest of my life because of it.
Now as the fourth year begins, I don't have any major resolutions. Finishing my specialist's degree (which I should do in October) is at the top of my list. I plan to continue going out with my friends and spending time with my family. We'll make our yearly trip to the beach this summer - maybe I'll even find time to go more than once this year. I'm looking forward to a reunion with some of my best friends from college. I don't really need anything else for myself or the house, but if I see something I like I'll probably get it. I plan to look more towards the future and not dwell on the events of the past. I can retire from teaching in just three years, so it's not too early to start thinking about that! I don't know what the future holds, or even what it is that I want to do with my life from here, but I do know that I can do whatever I want whenever I want. I'm back to living my life one day at a time again - the difference is that now it's because I want to, not because I have to.
"I'm Movin' On" by Rascal Flatts (2001)
I've dealt with my ghosts and faced all my demons, finally content with a past I regret. I've found you find strength in your moments of weakness, for once I'm at peace with myself. I've been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long ... I'm movin' on ... At last I can see life has been patiently waiting for me, and I know there's no guarantees, but I'm not alone. There comes a time in everyone's life when all you can see are the years passing by, and I've made up my mind that those days are gone ... I've loved like I should but lived like I shouldn't. I had to lose everything to find out. Maybe forgiveness will find me somewhere down this road ... I'm movin' on.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
The Right Thing at the Right Time
A few days ago I posted this quote on my Facebook page - "It's funny how day by day nothing changes, but after a while when you look back - everything is different." I don't know who said or wrote this, but it is definitely true. With the exception of a few days when something specific happened during the last three years, it really doesn't seem like much changed on a day to day basis. But when I look back at the three years as a whole I realize just how much has changed and how different my life is now. Many of the people (family and friends) and the physical aspects (house and job) have stayed the same, but my feelings, attitudes, goals, and relationships have changed. I remember the past and think about the future differently now.
After Eddie's death I heard all of the usual words from well-meaning people ... it will get better with time, time heals all wounds, it will get easier, there is an end to grief ... I didn't believe or even want to hear these things. Surprisingly, though, those people were right and their words have (gradually) proven to be true. Without realizing it at some point the initial gut-wrenching pain I experienced came to an end. The days of feeling like I couldn't even breathe went away. The constant ache in my chest eased. The mornings of not wanting to open my eyes disappeared. Very slowly and over a long period of time, healing has eventually started to take place. That doesn't mean I never have feelings of pain, sorrow, or regret when I think about what happened. I still miss Eddie and think about him every day. The difference now is that the negative feelings come and go more quickly, and the bad memories are slowly being replaced by good ones. "The Lord will be your everlasting light, and your days of sorrow will end." Isaiah 60:20
I realized just how much better things were when I cleaned out "the closet" a few weeks ago. This was the closet in the guest room where my mother had moved Eddie's clothes to a few weeks after he died. I had known for a long time that I needed to do something with those clothes, but I hadn't been able to make myself take care of it. In some way knowing they were there gave me a feeling of security. I didn't do it often, but I knew that if I wanted to I could go in there and look at them or touch them. In a small way having them here was like having a part of Eddie with me. I finally decided that it would be better for someone else to benefit from them though, so I cleaned out the closet and took everything to a homeless shelter. Some of the clothes brought back specific memories that made me smile or even laugh as I took them out of the closet - the collection from his sweater-vest phase, the brown suede coat that he thought he looked so good in but that I couldn't stand, the western style shirts he was sure he wanted but then never wore, and the Carhaart overalls that really emphasized his ample "backside" (which everyone teased him about). Cleaning out the closet and loading everything into the back of my car wasn't nearly as hard as I had anticipated. I knew as I was doing it that it was the right thing at the right time. The only difficult part was leaving the clothes at the shelter. While I knew they would help someone else more than they helped me, giving them away was like losing another piece of Eddie. Thankfully, the feeling of sadness passed and was replaced with good feelings for having done something for someone else and for taking yet another step toward healing.
"There's no thrill in easy sailing when the skies are clear and blue. There's no joy in merely doing things which anyone can do. But there is some satisfaction that is mighty sweet to take, when you reach a destination that you never thought you'd make." -Unknown
After Eddie's death I heard all of the usual words from well-meaning people ... it will get better with time, time heals all wounds, it will get easier, there is an end to grief ... I didn't believe or even want to hear these things. Surprisingly, though, those people were right and their words have (gradually) proven to be true. Without realizing it at some point the initial gut-wrenching pain I experienced came to an end. The days of feeling like I couldn't even breathe went away. The constant ache in my chest eased. The mornings of not wanting to open my eyes disappeared. Very slowly and over a long period of time, healing has eventually started to take place. That doesn't mean I never have feelings of pain, sorrow, or regret when I think about what happened. I still miss Eddie and think about him every day. The difference now is that the negative feelings come and go more quickly, and the bad memories are slowly being replaced by good ones. "The Lord will be your everlasting light, and your days of sorrow will end." Isaiah 60:20
I realized just how much better things were when I cleaned out "the closet" a few weeks ago. This was the closet in the guest room where my mother had moved Eddie's clothes to a few weeks after he died. I had known for a long time that I needed to do something with those clothes, but I hadn't been able to make myself take care of it. In some way knowing they were there gave me a feeling of security. I didn't do it often, but I knew that if I wanted to I could go in there and look at them or touch them. In a small way having them here was like having a part of Eddie with me. I finally decided that it would be better for someone else to benefit from them though, so I cleaned out the closet and took everything to a homeless shelter. Some of the clothes brought back specific memories that made me smile or even laugh as I took them out of the closet - the collection from his sweater-vest phase, the brown suede coat that he thought he looked so good in but that I couldn't stand, the western style shirts he was sure he wanted but then never wore, and the Carhaart overalls that really emphasized his ample "backside" (which everyone teased him about). Cleaning out the closet and loading everything into the back of my car wasn't nearly as hard as I had anticipated. I knew as I was doing it that it was the right thing at the right time. The only difficult part was leaving the clothes at the shelter. While I knew they would help someone else more than they helped me, giving them away was like losing another piece of Eddie. Thankfully, the feeling of sadness passed and was replaced with good feelings for having done something for someone else and for taking yet another step toward healing.
"There's no thrill in easy sailing when the skies are clear and blue. There's no joy in merely doing things which anyone can do. But there is some satisfaction that is mighty sweet to take, when you reach a destination that you never thought you'd make." -Unknown
Sunday, February 19, 2012
My Wish
I watched the movie Courageous this afternoon. It was a funny, sad, touching, and inspirational story that made me laugh as well as cry. It left me wanting to be not only a better parent but a better person. Although its message was aimed specifically at fathers, I believe it applies to all parents. As I watched the movie I couldn't help but think about Trey and the fact that he no longer has his father here. I know he was 25 when Eddie died, and that's older than some children are when they lose a parent, but I don't think we're ever ready no matter how old we are and certainly not in the way Trey lost his. We look to our parents for guidance, love, and acceptance. We rely on them for support and encouragement. They are supposed to be there for us, protect us, answer our questions, and make everything alright. They're supposed to take care of us when we're sick, comfort us when we're hurt, and listen to our problems. They're not supposed to be the cause of our pain.
Most of the blogs that I've written have focused on how Eddie's death affected me and how I handled it. I haven't written much about how it affected Trey, and I haven't written anything about how he has handled it. As I've said before, I read every book I could find on suicide, met regularly with a preacher, went for professional counseling, and even saw a psychiatrist. I encouraged Trey to talk to someone, to get whatever help he needed, but I never pressured him to do these things. I know everyone deals with things differently, and I wanted him to handle the situation however he felt was best. But I also know that as a survivor it is a constant fight to put the pieces of our lives back together and to reestablish who we are. I hope that in his own way Trey has been able to do this. He seems to be very happy with his life right now ... he has a beautiful daughter, a good job, a house, and a steady girlfriend.
I'm sure that like me, Trey isn't "over" what happened - we may never be. In his book Suicide and Its Aftermath: Understanding and Counseling the Survivors Dr. Edward Dunne writes "Suicide destroys the original fabric of the family, forcing a reintegration of the survivors. The pace at which individual family members are ready and able to do this will vary." As he moves on with his life, I hope Trey is able to remember the good times with his father. I want him to realize that despite the circumstances he learned lessons from Eddie, both good and bad. I hope he finds positive meaning in the relationship they shared and that he carries that with him throughout his life.
"I hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow and each road leads you where you want to go. And if you're faced with the choice and you have to choose, I hope you choose the one that means the most to you. And if one door opens to another door closed I hope you keep on walkin' til you find the window ... I hope you never look back but you never forget all the ones who love you and the place you left. I hope you always forgive and you never regret and you help somebody every chance you get. Oh you'd find God's grace in every mistake and always give more than you take ... My wish for you is that this life becomes all that you want it to. Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small, you never need to carry more than you can hold. And while you're out there gettin where you're gettin to I hope you know somebody loves you and wants the same things too. Yeah this is my wish ..."
My Wish by Rascal Flatts
Most of the blogs that I've written have focused on how Eddie's death affected me and how I handled it. I haven't written much about how it affected Trey, and I haven't written anything about how he has handled it. As I've said before, I read every book I could find on suicide, met regularly with a preacher, went for professional counseling, and even saw a psychiatrist. I encouraged Trey to talk to someone, to get whatever help he needed, but I never pressured him to do these things. I know everyone deals with things differently, and I wanted him to handle the situation however he felt was best. But I also know that as a survivor it is a constant fight to put the pieces of our lives back together and to reestablish who we are. I hope that in his own way Trey has been able to do this. He seems to be very happy with his life right now ... he has a beautiful daughter, a good job, a house, and a steady girlfriend.
I'm sure that like me, Trey isn't "over" what happened - we may never be. In his book Suicide and Its Aftermath: Understanding and Counseling the Survivors Dr. Edward Dunne writes "Suicide destroys the original fabric of the family, forcing a reintegration of the survivors. The pace at which individual family members are ready and able to do this will vary." As he moves on with his life, I hope Trey is able to remember the good times with his father. I want him to realize that despite the circumstances he learned lessons from Eddie, both good and bad. I hope he finds positive meaning in the relationship they shared and that he carries that with him throughout his life.
"I hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow and each road leads you where you want to go. And if you're faced with the choice and you have to choose, I hope you choose the one that means the most to you. And if one door opens to another door closed I hope you keep on walkin' til you find the window ... I hope you never look back but you never forget all the ones who love you and the place you left. I hope you always forgive and you never regret and you help somebody every chance you get. Oh you'd find God's grace in every mistake and always give more than you take ... My wish for you is that this life becomes all that you want it to. Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small, you never need to carry more than you can hold. And while you're out there gettin where you're gettin to I hope you know somebody loves you and wants the same things too. Yeah this is my wish ..."
My Wish by Rascal Flatts
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