I'll be Home for Christmas

I'm dreamin' tonight of a place I love
Even more then I usually do
And although I know it's a long road back
I promise you

I'll be home for Christmas
You can count on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents under the tree
Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light beams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams

Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light beams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams
If only in my dreams

Today I went to the store to get all of the children a Christmas ornamant as I do every year. And who,who do you think I found the first one for...you Jeffrey. Only this time it wasn't of a basketball player or a black santa...it was a precious gold, glittery ornament that I can place your photo in so that somehow when all of the kids come down the stairs on Christmas morning, you will be there hanging on the tree- a small part of our lives. But what will really stink is that no matter how hard we try- it will never ever be the same again. You will never be here for Jesus' birthday party. You will never ever be here for the Christmas Eve party with Grandma and Grandpa Burd. You will not hear Grandpa read the Christmas story. You will not eat Grandma's rolls. You will not watch as people crazily try to control their children as the gifts are torn open and the pandemonium continues. The laughter, the fellowship, the hugs, the love that is such an inherent part of who we Burd's are. And you will not be here.
You will not be here at 6am Chrustmas morning when Katce screams at the top of her lungs how "Santa has come" and to get up. She will not be able to crawl on your lap and cuddle in your stinky armpit. She will be lost. Hell Jeff, we'll all be lost. And we'll smile, and we'll pretend. But we'll all know- know that you are not here and will never ever be here again. This will be the hardest day without you yet. I do not want to eat Lacey's homemade cinnamon rolls without you. I do not want to have Grandma and Grandpa over for dinner without you or skype with Tierney and Jake and now Amelia without you.
But Jeff, what do we do? You have left us now choice.
The song says, "I'll be home for Chrustmas", but you are not here....yet in some strange way...I think that you are home for Christmas. You were never happy here on earth...not completely. There was always a piece of you that had been hurt and damaged and no matter how hard we tried- we couldn't fix it...happiness for you was unattainable.
But this year...this year...you are Home for Christmas...safe in Christ's arms and perhaps for the very first time, you will be happy...totally happy. I guess that helps some to imagine you with Christ under the tree, looking at all of the angels, having a huge celebration....I guess if I had to give you up that giving you up to jesus where you are finally happy and with no pain makes it worth it...at least for this moment...at least for today...

We (every Christian on the face of the earth) Are Responsible

Children
by Ina Hughes

We are responsible for children
who put chocolate fingers everywhere,
who like to be tickled,
who stomp in puddles and ruin their new pants,
who sneak popsicles before supper,
who can never find their shoes.

And we are responsible for children
who can’t bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
who are born in places we wouldn’t be caught dead,
who never go to the circus,
who live in an x-rated world.

We are responsible for children
who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
who sleep with the dog and bury goldfish,
who cover themselves with Band-aids and sing off key,
who squeeze toothpaste all over the sink,
who slurp their soup.

And we are responsible for children
who never get dessert,
who have no blanket to drag behind them,
who watch their parents watch them die,
who can’t find any bread to steal,
who don’t have any rooms to clean up,
whose pictures aren’t on anybody’s dresser,
whose monsters are real.

We are responsible for children
who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
who like ghost stories,
who shove dirty clothes under the bed and never rinse out the tub,
who get no visits from the tooth fairy,
who don’t like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
whose tears we sometimes laugh at, and
whose smiles can make us cry.

We are responsible for children
whose nightmares come in the daytime,
who will eat anything,
who have never seen a dentist,
who aren’t spoiled by anybody,
who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
who live and move, but have no being.

We are responsible for children
who want to be carried and for those who must,
for those we never give up on and
for those who don’t get a second chance,
for those we smother, . . . and
for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind enough to
offer it.

Even though my son killed himself...I would not trade the  thirteen years that the Lord blessed us with Jeff's presence. It was an honor to parent and get to know him. Please consider adoption...so many children need good parents. It is needed. It is Biblical. And it is our responsibility. If you do not believe in abortion- you better believe in adoption. Think about starting your new year with a new family member...the statistics are in your favor....

Jeffy's Boyhood Picture

When we first adopted the children, I got each of them a picture that reminded me of them. Ironically, Jeff's picture was of a boy praying. It wasn't until after he died that I noticed the angel looking over him actually has a tear in his eye.... 

Tomorrow...tomorrow...I love you Tomorrow...

The sun'll come out
Tomorrow
Bet your bottom dollar
That tomorrow
There'll be sun!

Just thinkin' about
Tomorrow
Clears away the cobwebs,
And the sorrow
'Til there's none!

When I'm stuck with a day
That's gray,
And lonely,
I just stick out my chin
And Grin,
And Say,
Oh!

The sun'll come out
Tomorrow
So ya gotta hang on
'Til tomorrow
Come what may
Tomorrow! Tomorrow!
I love ya Tomorrow!
You're always
A day
A way!
Tomorrow...
Tomorrow I will go to church like I do every Sunday and pretend that everything is alright. Tomorrow I will fight back the tears as I sit next to my beautiful lil niece Mandy and I watch her become my parent and cradle me as I cry about every song that is sung and every word that is spoken. I will fight the tears with a huge lump in my throat,. My heart will pound as I pray for someone else's child. I will look pretty outside, but inside I will be a mess. I will see Jeffrey in each corner of the church and I will dread running into each one of his old friends. But I will go and I will do it because it is tomorrow, and in my tomorrows- that is what I do- what is expected of me.
The only difference about this tomorrow is that my children will sing their first Christmas concert without their brother listening and watching with his big toothy grin on his face. Even though I will see Jeffy in my heart and in my memories- he will not be there. And while I try to watch my other children perform, I will be watching Jeffy "not being there" instead of enjoying them.
I wish I didn't dread all of this. I started out tomorrow in the Christmas season by being so filled with the Christmas spirit and so overwelmed with joy that I just knew this was going to be the best Christmas ever. But as each tomorrow comes to pass, I am filled with torment and trepidation that I will not make it through another day. I want to yell. I want to scream. Wait! Wait! something is not right. Something is amiss. We cannot have Christmas without Jeffy. We just cannot. How will I fake this? How will I let this tomorrow pass with out completely falling apart inside this insanity called grief? I do not know.
I am frightened. I am frightened everytime I see people fighting in a store. I am frightened everytime I see or read of the silly disputes people have. I want to yell, "Do you not know that there may not be a tomorrow filled with peace and joy and hope?" People waste so much time on stupid things. They get angry at their loved ones and live without them on earth when they are really here to enjoy. How dare they? How dare anyone let the sun go down on their anger and waste this precious life being mad at their loved ones. I do not know. I only know that as I face tomorrow again without my son, that I would give anything, anything to have him back with me. I would give anything to hear his voice, to feel his touch, and yes even watch him walk away from me in his anger. When I lost him to suicide, I lost a piece of me that I cannot get back- a hole I cannot fill. And for some reason- I do not want it filled.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will go to church. Tomorrow I will try to look pretty. Tomorrow I will open my Bible; I will study God's word and I will learn to get through that day without my son. Christ will help me overcome this next fear so that I may be ready for tomorrow again....
God help me...please.

The Gift

Sometimes in life your greatest fears are truly your greatest gifts...

Not There

the sadness is getting a little harder each day...please pray that God will allow us to have a blessed Christmas even though it will be bittersweet...Tierney, Amelia, and Jake cannot come home because Amelia cannot fly yet, and then there's Jeff- I miss him so much it hurts...never been apart at Christmas since I first got him...so hard...just so hard to have my babies away from me...I'm gonna need His strength and lots of prayers...feeling lost and overwelmed...

I remember when we first got the children. The boys came with a bag of girls clothes. It wasn't intentional, an accident of the "wrong bag". But the boys were so excited to go and pick out their own clothes, bedding, and etc. Jeff loved brand named items always. He loved the newness of new clothes- to have something noone else had ever had.

Every morning at Christmas, I would be amazed how he always got me the exact appliance I needed. I never told him, but he just watched me throughout the year and knew instinctively what I needed to make our busy lives easier. Jeff was good about that. He didn't show much emotion outright, but he showed it in so many small ways. So many "Jeff" ways.

I think the most amazing memory of Jeff at Christmas was the year I opened the gift from him and it was one of his favorite stuffed toys and whistles. I knew he had given me one of his precious treasures and it brought tears to my eyes. I looked at him and he looked at me and we knew...we knew the love was there. I remember through the years looking at that toy and remembering what that gift cost jeff. It cost him giving away something that was his and to a child who had everythig taken away from him, that was huge to give up a possession.
 Last year he didn't have any money so he gave me a picture of a smurf that he'd colored. I know for a college kid that seems silly, but Jeff knew me so well that for me. I would rather have something they made for me than a million dollars. Today  that picture is one of my most treasured gifts and will stay in my treasure chest where I keep all of my priceless possessions. The look on his face when he gave it to me was priceless...no apologies...just waiting for me to make over it which I did...

It had been very hard this Christmas season . The wave of grief has been hitting hard and knocking me over so much that I feel as if I will drowned in my tears. I compensate by pretending nothing is wrong, but it is. It is so very, very wrong. I cannot fathom how we decorated the tree without him. How we will make cookies, or food without him. Mainly I cannot imagine waking up Christmas morn without his smiling face always watching quietly from the sidelines to see what everyone else has gotten and if they are happy. His ornaments hang from the tree, but he is not here. His treasures and clothing lay in a trunk downstairs, but he is not there.

So I make my pilgrimage to the old cemetary and I place a poinsetta in the urn and I wipe off the snow...and he is not there. I stop, I stare, and long to see him where he is. My heart aches because I cannot be with him. I long to figure out all of this mess and to turn back the clock. Every song, evry place, every friend of his reminds me that he is not there. I do not know what will happen. I do not know how I will cope. I just know that I will. I will ride the ebb of this tormenting, agonizing grief, and I will overcome it. I will not ever be whole again. there will always be a huge piece of my heart missing. The tear will never really heal, it will just become a scar, that like any war wound, I will have stories and pictures to brag about. But it will still be that , a war wound. One whose battle I fought long and hard and lost; lost so dearly and lost so much. I didn't want to fight that fight. I didn't even want to be a soldier in that war, but I was "called" and try as I might to put a deaf ear on that call, I answered it with vigor. The call to be an adoptive Mom was so strong that it nearly bowled me over with the urging. God knew who we were and what we were capable of...or did He? But who am I to question His will when I have so very much to be thankful for.

I sometimes wonder if this time...this time He may have given me too much. I could handle raising these children, but I am sure having troubles with the burying part. This was not in those contracts, not on any dotted line. I want a "do over'...I want to escape back to last Christmas and hold Jeffrey in my arms and beg him to move home...I want to face possible hate and rejection...after all, anger would be better than this, right? I do not know. And I guess after a while I get tired of not knowing and looking to see if he is there.

Where is Jeffrey? Everyone says he is happy and he is in heaven...I know I believe it, but as a mother I cannot fathom that... I just cannot. I selfishly want him. I want to hold his hand, stroke his hair, cook for hime, fold his clothes, ....I sometimes wonder if I could unbury him and hold him forever. Does this make me crazy? I do not know- I've been crazy before over these kids.
Like the time the teacher made Timara take off her hat that she agreed Timara could wear for pictures and her hair stuck to her head. Then that teacher wouldn't let her call home to have me help her with her hair. Boy did I rake her over the coals. "Well Mrs. Burd, I have apolojized, what would you have me do?" the teacher said sarcastically. "I would have you make yesyterday never happen!" I blared back with my hands on my hip.  "that is impossible", she said quietly. "Yes, and tell that to my daughters humiliated spirit." That teacher never messed with my kid again. I pulled her outta school and waited for a better one to come along.
Like the time that some kid called Dragos a retard and Timara picked the fat kid up, laid him on the ground and made him eat dirt. Noone messed with her brother, but her.
Like the time James through rocks at the school window to see how many it would take to break it....five...it takes five.
Like the time Lacey swallowed Campho Phenic and had to have her stomach pumped. If I hadn't insisted , "Do it- pump her stomach," that child would be here walking today.
Like the time Tierney read a book by herself after we struggled all year to get her caught up in reading. She graduated sixth grade with all her friends and I balwed in my seat.
Like the time Joshua had a severe pain in his abdoman and the docs couldn't figure out what was wrong and I insisted I stay overnight with him in the hospital. He didn't want to be babied, but I didn't care. i rubbed his head until he went to sleep and watched him all night.
Like the time Dragos beat all the fat kids in the 70 meter run in track and I wept on my knees as I cheered him on. Only to look in the stands and see everyone weeping too. Pretty good for a kid who wasn't supposed to live much else walk or talk.
Like the time I prayed to God to take Katce from this world when she had meningitous and was in so much pain- or give the pain to me- anything than watch her suffer so. And God broke that fever that very next minute.
Like the times I watched Kayla suffer as she wauted for her bio dad to show up even though he never did. how I buried her head in my lap, and figured out how to bail him outta jail so she could see him. I never told her where he was. A kid doesn't need to know that adults in their lives can be idiots.
Like the time I held jeff as he cried and cried because his heart was so broken that his bio dad walked away from him and didn't love him. I lied and said I knew his dad did that he was just too young and drugged out to keep him.Like the time I found Jeff hiding in a corner afraid to tell me he had wet the bed because he was afraid that I would make him sleep inthe bathtub with peed underwear on his head like had been done to him by other "parents". Like the time he begged me not to lock him in the closet when he was bad because it too had been done before. Like the time I held him while he was going through r
ritulan withdraw and fighting anyone in his path. Like the time I listened to him call me a "bitch" and telling me his whole life was my fault and watching him walk away.  Like the time I lay on the floor with the flu and I puked and then Jeff puked together all day in pain, but together. Like the time Jeff stole our car because he couldn't deal with the fact that Katce may die of meningitous and begging someone to help him mentally. Like the time I didn't sleep all night because Jeff was angry and kept sleeping with weapons under his bed and praying he wouldn't hurt us. Like the time I begged the prosecuting attorney to just get Jeff help and drop the domestic abuse charges.  Like the time I spent my whole week finding jeff a job, bringing him home to live, staying up with him, watching him every minute until I could get him talked into getting help and then when I did I found him the next day dead. And finally, like the time katce and I covered him with a blanket before they laid him in that cold ground to be buried forever.
 I worry over them and mother over them all everyday. Death didn't stop that with my Jeffy. Even when he left our home, I still called in the storms to check on him. I still wonder if he is happy and what he is up to.My mothering him will never ever stop. is this normal? I do not know.

I just want this ache to stop overtaking me. i want to just be soft, and peaceful and quiet inside. most days I am, but not today. because jeffy is not there. he is not where I expect him nor where I want him to be. I will have to reast in the fact that this Christmas will happen, it will come and go and we will make new memories...but that Jeff will not be there....

The Panic

Today was a good day. In fact, today was a great day. And it is on these days that somewhere, out of the blue, panic will set in. A panic over Jeff that is so strong that it is like a wave of nausea that quickly makes you throw up. It isn't like this always, just sometimes. But the sometimes are hard and they hit so dark...if it weren't for Christ...I wouldn't recover the nausea...I would just throw up all day...

When James called and said that there had been an accident- my heart sank. I could feel my throat tighten up for about 3 seconds and I wanted to panic. But as he continued to narrate the story and it was clear that Timara was helping a friend who was just in a scary accident at school, but was alright...I began to breath easier. And while there were prayers sent up and much concern for the parties involved...it was "do"able. Little did I know...

We arrived at the school to watch Timara's game and I was prepared for the uncomfortableness that I always get when entering that gym. The acute awareness that Jeff was here. His people were here. Much of his life was spent right here in this gym. What I wasn't prepared for was how I would ract when I saw Timara's friend, Em, who had been in the accident. There she was, sitting on a low bleacher, pale as a ghost, trying to stay quiet and be a part of the game- yet not. Her mother sat behind her, carefully monitoring her daughter. The closer I got to sit with them, the more I felt obsessed with Em. I could see the bruising. I could see some scratches and blood. I could see she was still frightened and in pain. I could see I needed to mother her. And then came the panic. The overwelming need to push her mother aside, take Em into my arms, and make her awful care accident away. I wanted to take her home, mother her , and make sure that she was well. It ran through my mind more than once that I would have her in the hospital right now, that I would demand every test on the face of this earth in order to insure her safety- needed or not. But I don't know this child this well, and I am not her mother, who is a great mother, and would never endanger her child. So, I kept babbling to her, trying to nonchalontly mother her, and somehow get this awkward feeling about Em and her appearance and her owies to go away. I watched her so much that I could hardly watch the game. I could hardly concentrate....the need to "fix" her was overwelming. I kept watching her...kept questioning her mother, kept offering to help in some way. I had to mother this child and the feeling got stronger and stronger until I almost reached out and stroked her pretty lil head. And it wasn't until her mother took her home early to rest that I looked up and I realized why I was feeling panicky- why I couldn't get Em and the need to take care of her out of my mind. It was him....

I heard the buzzer sounding. I knew that we had lost the game. But my eyes remained fixed on the records board up on that gym wall. Fixed on Jeff's name. Fixed on Jeff's accomplishments. Fixed on his life. And then it hit me..the panic...the hot tears...the overwelming sense of loss. the need to turn and run and run and bury my head in anyone who could shelter me from this pain. It was Jeff...I wanted to mother Em because when I came upon Jeff's car and realized there was blood and realized...I had to get into that car...and that I couldn't ...and that it was too late...I could not mother him. i could nit make this better. i could not ever ever make him better again....I fell to my knees and raised my hand to the only entity who could help Jeff and that was God. And the ambulance came...and I couldn't see him...and I couldn't touch him....and I couldn't make sure he was dead or heaven help me...alive... I could only do what what I was told....answer questions and walk away...But with Em....I could help...I could take care of her...I could mother her...I could make it all better. Only I couldn't- for Em is not my child. She has a mother. A good mother. One who would die for her. So I, I had to remain trapped in this horrible panic of helplessness because she was not my child- nor was she Jeff. And so i sat. i sat in a room full of people and I wept. I wept for Em. I wept for me. I wept for Jeff. I wept because it wasn't supposed to be like this. Not for him. Not for me. Not for us. I felt all of the memories as rush back. All of the baskets. All of the finish lines. All of the cheering. All for Jeff. I saw him....winning, striving, hearing me cheer him on. I saw all of races. All of his fouls, his baskets, his touchdowns. All of the things that made him the great athlete that he was.
And I wept until I looked up and met his eyes......
"Looked up didn't you..." he said quietly and I nodded. "Don't ever look up..." and he took my hand and padded it."The car is on this side why don't you take kate and go out there..." I nodded again.
I looked around and realized that everyone in that gym had no idea that pain that I was in. They had no idea that while they waited for their daughters to amerge from the locker room, that my life had went to hell and back there in that five minute interval of time. Will it always be like this? Will i always get well meaning hugs, but feel so alone, and so knowing in a room full of people. Will I and I alone alwyas have this sick know;ledge that in a split second your life can change, and scare the hell out of you for the rest of your life. Will there ever be a normal? Will there ever be a day when i can't see him, sense him, hear him, and smell him? Will I ever be able to live?

I do not know. I know that when Sarah asked to watch Katce inthe hallway...and I made up some lame excuse that she couldn't I wanted to turn to her, take her hands, and yell, "Are you kidding me? I have to watch her. I have to know where she is all of the time. What if something happens to her...I love you sarah and you are a great mother, but I have to see her every minute. I have to!" I love Sarah. She is truly a great gift. But she does not know (and I pray to God she never does). The panic. The fear. The sheer terror of not seeing Katce and sometimes the overwelming sense of dread that this death could snatch another one from me.....take another one of my babies and leave me to die this slow death of this disease called life.
No, I do not feel like this everyday. I do not panic everytime when I cannot see them or they are away from me. Omly sometimes. So if you see me, or any other parent who has lost a child either by suicide or any other means, hug them, smile at them, look into their eyes with genuine concern. And when they say that they are okay...know that sometimes they are lying and just. just be their friend. (Thanks for the hug tonight Michele Siple...you have no idea how much it helped)....

Letting Go

Sometimes it frightens me to know that each and everyday I let a little more of you go with God to heaven. This journey has been so hard and such an uphill battle. I know- I know that you are already in heaven and that in reality, I should have given you up to him and not fought this process so much. But ...I ...couldn't...I had to hang on to you and my dreams for you. I have dreamt them since I first laid eyes on that big bright smile. And I know alot of times they were my dreams and not yours ...and I know that sometimes your many talents were your biggest downfall....but in you I saw everything that I had always wanted to be....lovable, cherished, talented, funny....Today I will let go of many things because today, you will never be a part of our being Thankful again.
Today I am letting go of ...
the fact that I will never see you become the olympic runner you were meant to be,
I will never walk into your classroom and watch you teach a group of naughty preschoolers,
the look on your face as she walks down the aisle and becomes your wife,
watching tears roll down your face as she delivers your first child while I watch from the sidelines,
waiting for you to come home,
and mostly watching you grow into the man that I know God planned you to be.

I know I should be happy that you are with Christ. But I am not. I selfishly want you here to experience all of the things that God has blessed us with since your death....
Dragos lived through a major seizure and is still driving us crazy,
Caleb called me "Duck" instead of Grandma,
Joshua is driving a "Stang", got his ears pierced, and Dad still loves him,
Timara is in "love" and dating and so beautiful,
Kayla had the twins Cullen and J'Lynn and they are awesome and she is a great Momma,
James has starred in a play and is really coming into himself and showing his "moves",
Lacey and Ben had Jesse come help with the ministry and watching them parents a "fast" Caleb...
and finally Jake and Tierney had their beautiful lil girl Amelia whom you would adore and have a beautiful marriage...
you missed it Jeff, all of these memories, all of your family and friends going on with life. Not because they want to but because they have to. And we will continue to go on, each holiday, each day for the rest of our lives. But never ever forget that we miss you in each memory, each moment, each day. For you my son, were always meant to be a part of this family- this life. And so you are...in our hearts forever.
Happy Thanksgiving Day Son....today as I make some memories...I will certainly miss you...
Love,
Always,
Momma

This month has been very tough for me. I am exhausted as another one of our children and grandchildren came close to death. It was a very frightening experience to realize again that in an instant you have no control over anything. I wanted to run, to hide, to bury my head in as deep a sand that I could find. But I did not. I went into the bathroom, got down on my knees and begged God for these lives. Begged Him to spare them and leave them with me. And after many hours..He did. I realized that I did not have that chance with Jeff, I wasn't allowed to beg for his life because he chose to take it. I realized, that in my mind, I thought if I was with my daughter in her greatest time of need, that I could somehow prevent any wrongness to happen to her. Sadly, i cannot. I am not God. Heck, I'm barely me. But what I can control is how I react to the situation; Whom I turn to, and how I let go. So now this journey is taking on a new issue...letting go...letting go of control, letting go of Jeff, letting go and letting God.

I have decided to let go of people in this life who make me feel that I am not allowed to have my own feelings or be who I truly am. It is too hard right  now to jump through hoops and apolojize for my every thought or motive. I just want to "be"...Tim says I have to just walk away...
And finally, I have let go of the fact that I could have stopped Jeff because, quite frankly, I could not. I did everything I could to stop him. But he was going to do this regardless of what day and with what weapon. I know that now and it's okay. Am I sad? Sure. Will I have those dark days? Sure. But when I have those days it will be because my heart aches so for a child who chose not to be with me, but with Christ instead. It will not be because I failed. Despite what some lifesucking people have told me all of my life, I am not a failure...I may have had a few failures, but I , myself, am not a failure. And I will continue to prevent future failure until the day of Christ....

Attitude Check...

The Serenity Prayer

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
... and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely
happy with Him forever in the next.
Amen

Lord,
Help me to always be heard in love and to never be taken too seriously and protect me from those whose intention it is to hurt or manipulate me. Forgive me for a word taken wrongly for it should never be my intention to hurt someone. Take off my blinders and help me to be better each day. Thank you for this journey and for the people you have placed in my life to uphold me. In Christ's name...Amen.

Please Do Not Judge Me...you are not invited to do so....

After a week of hard observations...God has lead me to write this ...however...it isn't intended for anyone in particular- just thoughts that have been on my mind. If anyone is offended, please forgive me as that is never ever my intent...
Somehow people believe that those of us who experience suicide especially that of a child, experience the same grieving process as those of a nonsuicidal death....totally not so...the fear and the guilt with a suicidal death is much deeper and never ends. Please do not misunderstand where I am coming from- simply know that finding your child dead from his own hand is not something that I will ever... ...ever get over and to expect this process to be over or want me to be joyous when someone dies because they are experiencing heaven is insensitive to my needs as not only a mother but as a person as well. While death in itself is horrendous, when a child decides to end their life, their life never comes to fruition nor do your dreams for that child. Those dreams and hopes don't die with your child...they are still hidden in your heart. To expect me to just pack up these hopes and put them away is as easy as burying him was- never to see his face again. You are wrong that heaven should hold joy for me. Heaven holds my child and the only way I can see him is to die...so do I kill myself to spend eternity with him- leaving eight other children and four grandchildren without me? So you see, while you may have grieved in your lifetime, you have not grieved a suicide. You have not walked in my shoes, and quite frankly- I pray you never have to.....

Today I learned a valuable lesson- that you really know who your friends are when the chips are down. I wrote a blog (the one above) a few weeks ago, that was spurred on by a few conversations that I had had with several people over a period of time. I had also spoken with a friend of mine who has actually experienced the death of a child by suicide and she totally felt the way I was feeling- that death of a suicidal nature is different then suffering a regular loss by death. The blog was about being judged. What I was asking for was compassion for myself and others who are experiencing this awful grief, but what I got was a total misconstrued, angry post from a woman whom I have looked up to in many times of my life. So now because of what I felt lead to write this woman has broken off a twenty one year friendship and I am left with the holidays coming up that we have to face without Jeff, and now dissention...oh how I dislike dissention...
Sometimes I wonder what people think when they verbally attack someone...or what happened to them they they think everything is about them and everyone is out to hurt them. Life is just too short for this game playing. why can't we just love each other for our opinions...I do not know...I cannot change who I am or how I feel for anyone...not anymore...I have realized that life is too short to chase my tail for someone else...I'm too busy chasing it on my own...

He see's me in the morning,
Lifting him out of bed.
The sun comes with little warning,
A brand new day's ahead.
To the kitchen for some breakfast,
A plate of toasted bread,
A cup of milk just as expected,
Close your eyes and bow your head.

You can thank him for anything you want to,
For the flower's and the trees
And pray,Lord Jesus, make me,
A little boy on my knees.

He's Mommy's little helper.
Learning to comb his hair.
And loves his baby sister,
Though he doesn't always share.
A quarter in the bucket,
A memory verse or two,
Although he may not know it,
He's beginning to follow you.

You can thank him for anything you want to,
For your Daddy and for me.
And pray, Lord Jesus, make me,
A little boy on my knees.

As we teach our Son to serve the Lord, in every way,
Lord the most important thing is this that we now pray,
Lord, we thank you everything you give us, but most importantly,
We pray Lord Jesus, make our Son a little boy on his knees.

Lord we thank you for everything you give us, but most importantly
We pray, Lord Jesus, make our Son,
A little boy on his knees.
We pray that someday he'll become,
A young man on his knees.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

all I ever have to be....Amy Grant

 

When the weight of all my dreams
Is resting heavy on my head,
And the thoughtful words of health and hope
Have all been nicely said.

But I'm still hurting,
Wondering if I'll ever be
The one I think I am.

I think I am.

Then you gently re-remind me
That you've made me from the first,
And the more I try to be the best
The more I get the worst.

And I realize the good in me,
Is only there because of who you are.

Who you are...

And all I ever have to be
Is what you've made me.
Any more or less would be a step
Out of your plan.

As you daily recreate me,
Help me always keep in mind
That I only have to do
What I can find.

And all I ever have to be
All I have to be
All I ever have to be
Is what you've made me.
Today was the first day in weeks that I have not cried. I did not fight this day...I simply let it happen. And remarkably, much to my surprise, I have survived. I didn't think about death. I thought about life. Jeff's life and how very much his life and being a part of it- changed my life and formed who I am today. And I thought about an old school chum, sandy Springer, who spoke with me at lunch. She made me feel special. She made me see that Jeff's choice didn't ruin my testimony or what people thought of me, but rather strengthened it through the diversity that I have suffered and am now overcoming. For the first time in seven months I was proud of who I am and what I have accomplished as a mother to these motherless children. And I am thankful- no priveledged to have been Jeff's mother. Because without me, Jeff never would have known what a mother's love was all about and he never would have known a lullaby. And he never would have known true happiness and the effects that our choices have on a family. He never would have known that he had choices. And he never would have known about Jesus Christ.  But because we chose to obey God and love him...he knew...and because of me...my little boy is in heaven and not hell and that is a big accomplishment...and for that, I am thankful...
Thanks Sandy, for today...you'll never how God used you to bring back from a place I keep going back too....you may have saved my life today....

Still So Sad...and it's been seven months..

Today....seven months after Jeffy shot himself...
I stood there at the football game tonight and realized that I no longer fit in. I am not "Kari Burd, mother of all the kids"...I am "kari Burd, mother to the kid who committed suicide"...and really, truthfully that is how I feel inside too. Everywhere I go people are smiling and laughing and having a good time. Their lives have went on- they have forgotten. But I- I can never ever forget that Jeff is dead and that he killed himself. I cannot have a good time anymore- at least not for long. Jeff is everywhere. He is on that football field, being under utilized and smiling and shaking hands in spite of not playing. he is on that track, beating his opponents without really even trying. he is in the stands, crying brcause he doesn't want to live and is contemplating suicide. he is everywhere there. And, he is eveywhere wherever I look. And I am sad. I miss him so much. So very much that much that my heart aches. It is breaking you know. Slowly, ever so slowly breaking. I am lost, empty, and virtually alone. In a world full of people, in a room full of people, in a house full of people- I am alone. And I hate it. I hate everything about jeff's death. I hate what it has taken from me; him, my health, my trust, my happiness. I hate that I wake up in the morning simply waiting to go back to bed again at night. I hate that i am afraid to go places because I cannot control this sadness. I hate that I cannot stand for my cjildren to go anywhere because they may get hurt or killed. I hate that I die inside everytime they are ill because I realized I have no control over this life and they could not get better. I hate that people tell me it'll get better when mostly they don't know that it will. Honestly, how many people lose a child to suicide. I hate that I cannot feel when my husband laughs, or talks, or plans...I hear his voice, but my heart is void of emotion. And I hate that I want to die...truly die if the rest of thsi life entails living in this frightening grief. And I hate that I am still mad that noone would listen to me and get him help and that the do gooders that did help him only thrust him closer to death because he didn't need us with their help. But I think what I hate the most is that I cannot ever, ever say good-bye. I cannot have closure. Sure I know it wasn't my fault and I know that Jeff was ill. But I cannot say to him, "I love you and I would've given my life if yours was spared".
My heart aches to see his face again. My hearts aches to hear his voice. My heart aches to have one of those people who blame me for his poor life to come up and apolojize to me and say, I'm sorry...I didn't know. He was sick. You were right". Somehow that would validate all of those "tough love" decisions that I had to make.
 But what I love is...that my children are here and give me reason to go on each day. That I have my friends who have always been there and never let me down. I love that my sister feel severy bit at a loss as I do and she helps me. I have my Katie Aronin who has more wisdom in her little finger than I have in my whole being. I love that I can go out to his grave and talk to him. I love that I have grandchildren. I love that I have an amazing church family. I love that I have a child who paints pictures with mascara, jumps in mud puddles with her church shoes, and dances naked in Walmart. I love that I have a husband who loves me and is my best friend and will wait until I can find my way again. But mostly I love that even when I cannot be who I am meant to be- I have a God who lets me throw a fit, walk away, and He still sits there waiting for me to run into His arms and bask in His comfort.
So now I know I will get through because like it or not I have to ...because I have still made a choice to live and live I will...




Clair had all but givin up when
when she and edwin fell in love
she his touched his face and shook her head
indisbelieve and sighed and said
in many dreams i've held you near
no at last your really here

Where you've been i've looked for you forever and a day
Where you've been i'm just not my-self when you're away

he asked her for her for life
and she became a sales mens wife
he was home each night by eight
but one stormy evening he was late
her frightened tears fell to the floor
until his key turned in the door

Where you've been i've looked for you forever and a day
Where you've been i'm just not my-self when you're away

they never spend a night apart for sixty years she heard him snore
now there in the hospitle on seperate beds on different floors
clair soon lost her memory, forgot the names of family
she never spoke a word again, then one day they whelled him in
he held her hand and stroked her hair, in a fragile voice she said

Where you've been i've looked for you forever and a day
Where you've been i'm just not my-self when you're away
no, i'm just not my-self when you're away

The Treasure Box of Memories

I ran my hand along that box,
that held what's left of your life.
I fingered it with gentle love,
and my heart swelled up with strife.
How can it be- this is all that's left,
of the boy I loved so dear,
I shook my head, began to cry,
the memories so fresh and clear.

The first time that I met my son,
he was an angry little boy.
Life had stripped him of his love,
and left him pain not joy.
But in him I saw what  noone saw,
a scarred up little man.
I gave him all I had to give,
I did the best I can.

I placed my arm around his hurt,
I scared the monsters away.
I instilled in him a love for Christ,
and that in him would stay.
I took him fishing at the pond,
played hide and seek all day.
I gave him what a boy would need,
to grow into a man someday.

He was the best of boys you see,
and he was so worth the trouble,
I loved to watch him laugh and play,
but  was glad he wasn't double.
I loved him more than anything,
I wished that he were mine,
I missed so many firsts you see,
in my womb he wasn't inside.

The talent that this boy did have
no sport he couldn't do,
He'd throw the ball or run real fast,
his losses were so few.
The games we stood in rain or snow, 
we never missed not one,
we cheered him at the finish line,
he was our eldest son.

But winning wasn't what he sought,
to fill the void inside,
he needed to heal a hurt so deep,
where not even Hope abides.
So soon it became so very clear
that  something was not quite right.
He couldn't handle change at all,
and to him it gave a fright.

I tried to get him help you see,
the moods they were so bad.
But noone would believe my truths,
they thought he was just sad.
And so our lives became a game,
of what mood was he in?
Would our day be filled with fun,
or awful and so grim.

Then he began to run away,
from those who loved him most.
He stole a car, he stole from work,
nothing of worth to boast.
It wasn't long before his hate,
turned from him to me.
And I tried so hard to please him,
and be all he needed me to be.

And then it happened one awful day,
he raised his fist at us,
broke up our house and yelled and screamed,
to his family so unjust.
With all the courage that I had,
I yelled, "you must get out",
we couldn't take the hurt no more,
it's not what family's about.

He drifted in and out of life,
it lasted nearly two years,
I'd like to say there was some laughter,
but mostly there was just tears.
He'd come around from time to time,
but it would never be the same,
he could not forgive what we had done,
yet to this day it bears no name.

I think if he was left alone,
and allowed to figure his way,
but well meaning folks kept stepping in,
and in college he never stayed.
They bought him a car and he had a phone,
and didn't need us anymore,
they gave him every thing you see,
but it was us who knew his needs more.

So when the walls came crashing down,
he couldn't live up to their dreams,
all those folks where were they now,
he was coming apart at the seams.
He tried to do the best he could,
and a smile he'd try to muster,
but deep inside the hurt stayed there,
and his life it got too flustered.

It's hard to be a great big man,
when you're just a hurt lil boy.
He needed his mom and dad you see,
not a world filled with grown up toys.
And so my sweet, my eldest son,
began to die inside,
he hatched a plan to take his life,
and on that he could abide.

He came home to me that winter day,
and said he'd been so wrong,
he didn't want to leave again,
he wasn't feeling very strong.
He put his hand beneath my chin,
and said, "I love you Mom",
I held his heart, I stroked his hair,
I tried to remain so calm.

We thought we had him back again,
we thought he'd surely stay,
But he wasn't saying "hello" to us
but bidding us "good day".
We hold on to those memories;
the love the joy, the fun,
we had him back our lil boy,
for one brief and final run.

I went to get him that early morn,
thinking I'd get him help.
But when I got to his red car,
he'd killed his own little self.
I called upon our sovereign Lord,
I begged for his dear life,
but God had already taken him home,
he taken him from his strife.

We lived a nightmare from then on,
a week of hell on earth,
the funeral and the burial,
to me they were the worst.
To lay your child inside a box,
and try to say good-bye,
to never see his face again,
nor hear his little cry.

The nights they are so endless,
but the days they are much worse,
you place a smile upon your face,
but your heart it holds the curse.
You are the Mom of  that one kid,
who committed suicide,
 you wear an "S" brand on your clothes,
but burns you deep inside.

And so I touched his little box,
the one that holds his things,
I lay my face upon it's top,
and oh the closeness that it brings.
For it's all that I have left him,
the boy that I so loved,
His lives now with his Savior,
in heaven up above.

Sad Day...Mondays Are so Hard

A Broken Wing - Martina McBride

She Loved Him Like He Was
The Last Man On Earth
Gave Him Everything She Ever Had
He'd Break Her Spirit Down
Then Come Lovin' Up On Her
Give A Little Then Take It Back

She'd Tell Him About Her Dreams
He'd Just Shoot 'em Down
Lord He Loved To Make Her Cry
You're Crazy For Believin'
You'll Ever Leave The Ground
He Said Only Angels Know How To Fly

And With A Broken Wing
She Still Sings She Keeps An Eye On The Sky
With A Broken Wing
She Carries Her Dreams
Man You Ought To See Her Fly

One Sunday Morning
She Didn't Go To Church
He Wondered Why She Didn't Leave
He Went Up To The Bedroom
Found A Note By The Window
With The Curtains Blowin' In The Breeze

And With A Broken Wing
She Still Sings
She Keeps An Eye On The Sky
With A Broken Wing
She Carries Her Dreams
Man You Ought To See Her Fly

With A Broken Wing
She Carries Her Dreams
Man You Ought To See Her Fly

Some days I just wake up feeling sad.I feel this sense of dread that I cannot explain. It is an emptiness...a loss so dark and still that I cannot fathom how I will ever get out of it. Today is one of those days. Before my feet even hit the floor- the devil had an awful morning planned and if it could go wrong- it would and it has. All I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry. I miss him..I miss him so much. I want to hold him, see him,smell him, but most of all talk to him. I want to hear his voice....i don't even care if he is yelling...anything is better than nothing. I pray to God and he has this plan, but this awful grief keeps getting in the way. So today- today while the world is functioning all around me, I will barely get by. I will fight back the tears. I will pray noone says or does anything that will set me off. I will spend the day fulfilling my obligations and then I will flee to my home where the memories of him asre so strong that the tears will engulf me and I will succumb to this grief and cry until there is nothing left. My children will look at me dumbfounded...my huband will wring his hands, and I will be trapped once more inside a pain that I fail to understand, comprehend, or avoid. I think I will never do this again, but I will. I will do it again...and again and again....And I will live through. God will give me something tangent to hold onto...a smile, a child's success or failure...a broken situation that needs me...and for a while...I will live again as if Jeff never killed himself...I will function again- But life...life as I knew it- so sheltered and full of dreams is gone...leaving with this sense of reality that in a moments time...your heart can be crushed and stifled until there is no more...

You'll Get Through This...Martina McBride

Pull the shades down on the sun
Don't want to see the morning break to another day
I don't have the strength to face
Close the door and keep it shut
Lord this ache is just too much for me to take
How do I begin to pray

My way back to some kind of peace of mind
But then I hear love whispering through the darkest of times

You'll get through this
You'll break new ground
When you're lost within your weakness
Hope is waiting to be found
You'll get through this
No matter what it takes
I believe in you for heaven's sake
You'll get through this

When doubt starts tearing it
The faith deep in you don't be afraid
Just remember what I say
Nothing formed against you will succeed
As long as your hearts turn to me

You'll get through this
You'll break new ground
When you're lost within your weakness
Hope is waiting to be found
You'll get through this
No matter what it takes
I believe in you for heaven's sake
You'll get through this

Nothing formed against ya will succeed
As long as your hearts turn to me

You'll get through this
You'll break new ground
When you're lost within your weakness
Hope is waiting to be found
You'll get through this
No matter what it takes
I believe in you for heaven's sake
You'll get through this

Dear Jeffy she came to you today.....

She reached up and she took my hand,
and held on oh so tight,
I didn't have the heart to speak,
 I could not make this right.

"Mommie, I just have to know
where Jeffy sleeps each day,
does he live there all alone,
beneath that stone of clay?"

I watched her little tear filled eyes
look upon his silent stone,
and as we slowly came to it,
surely he must have known.

She laid her fingers on the etchings,
as if to touch your face,
her  hand so tender and so loving,
your little Katie-Grace.

She held the wilted flower,
I left for you last week,
it was so awfully quiet,
I dared not try to speak.

"Mommie, why couldn't Jeffy be better,
and come back with me to stay?'
My heart began to slowly break,
"Your Jeffy, he chose to go away..."

"See Sissy when he was a little boy,
someone hurt your Jeffy bad,
he never could be happy again,
and his heart it was just too sad."

She raised her so slowly,
 and gave up her little loss,
"Someday I'll go to live with them,
Jeffy and Jesus on that pretty cross."

And so your little Baby Sister,
the one you loved so dear,
knows now that you aren't coming back,
but now she has no fears.

For she will see you on that day ,
when Jesus calls her home,
and you can call her "Baby-Girl",
and tell her what we've known.

That life for you down here on earth ,
was filled with so much pain,
you couldn't bear to stay with us,
you had to avoid the rain.

I want you to know,
 as I took her hand
and led her on our way,
she never ever said "good-bye"to you, she only said "good-day".

For Jeffy, she remembers still,
your life, your love, your touch,
and always in her little heart, your love will mean so much....

Today, my little baby girl wanted to know if her Jeffy had a stone. Did he live under it? Was it pretty?  Was he alone? So I drove her to the cemetary and showed her where Jeffy stays. It was one of the most precious moments of our lives as she tenderly gave closure to this little uneasy grief that she has suffered the last six months. I felt peaceful as she teared up and loving, gingerly patted his stone. I felt relief as she held his cross and babbled about how much he liked them. But mostly I felt freedom that somehow, someway God worked it out for this sweet child to understand this mess. A mess that I still struggle with today....

See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven.
(Matthew 18:10 ESV)

The Choice

For six months I have struggled, wrestled really, with the fact that Jeff chose to take his own life. The pain, the guilt, the whys, the hows, the unbearable unanswered questions- all of it consuming me until I myself began to wonder if this life and all of its unknowns and pains are really worth living. I have known for a while now that I was at the end of my rope both physically and emotionally not to mention spiritually. And then- then- on the six month anniversary of Jeff's death, the answers to my questions finally dawned on me. THE CHOICE.
Jeff made a concious effort to kill himself. He set the chain of events in motion. He spent the last four years of his life alienating his family from him. He spent the last two years of his life completely destroying all the good that was there. He came back to us and left abruptly several times. He walked away from all the people that mattered, who knew him, who could make a difference. He threw away all of his momentos of his childhood.Then, after everything was gone and he had nothing left. He came home. He gave this family one last week of the real Jeff- the man God intended him to be.He laughed. He joked. He smiled. He said his sorries. He gave me the best gift I could ever have...to be his mother again. He layed his head on my lap and I rubbed his lil boy head once more. He asked my advice. He asked for my help. But then he made a CHOICE.....He said his good-byes. He stayed up all night. He didn't eat. He left in the weee hours. He stole a gun. He drove to a friend's house. He pitched an ultimatum. He ran to his car. He put the gun in his mouth precisely where he knew he should. He agonized for a few moments...and then...he killed himself. That was Jeff's choice. I did not choose that for him. I did not want my son dead, especially by his own hand. But Jeff's choice wasn't about what I wanted. Jeff's choice was about what Jeff thought was best for him. It wasn't a good choice and God knows- it wasn't the only choice, but Jeff made the choice and he killed himself.
And on that day, that awful day when Jeff made his choice, I made the choice to go and get him and bring him home. It was not a choice made without reservation. I knew my son was ill afterall I had tried for four years to get him help and convince anyone who would listen- I knew he could harm me and others. But it was a choice I made because he was my son. He was one of my babies and I chose to rescue him that morning. Trouble was, God had already rescued Jeff. I believe that with all my heart as Jeff ran to his car, God decided that no matter what, Jeff was hell bent on taking his own life (he tried it before). The life that God gave him. The life that God had so carefully orchestrated and rescued him to to create our family. Jeff's life was more than a regular life- God had a supernatural plan for Jeff and gave him so many gifts that it still astounds me- even today. But God saw Jeff running and I know He said, "If you're really gonna do this, then let's just do it and you come on home Jeffrey". So by the time Melissa and I got there the choice had been made.
 And from that day on I made the choice to blame myself for Jeff's death. Even after God gave me a direct sign that it wasn't my fault. I chose to rehash and relive everyday with Jeff and revel in this misery of death until I was no good for my husband, my children, my family, my church, and my friends. I have let this death run my life every day for six months....until I too have contemplated suicide because I couldn't live with Jeff's decision to kill himself.
But then, in the quietness of the morning, in the stillness of  His Word, I made a choice to live - really live. To wake up each day and find the strength through my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ to walk past this misery, past this death, and watch as my Children do remarkable things. See my Grandchildren smile at me as if I hung the moon. Reach over and hold my Husband's hand, still get butterfiles in my stomach, and know that together we can survive anything. Wait, watch, wonder, and marvel at all of these beautiful gifts I've been given and thank God everyday for His blessings and His mercies and most of all His grace. And then every now and then...me and God will go to a quiet place together, get out this awful painful hurt, and He and I will shed some tears, have a pity party- He'll listen and I'll bawl. And together God and I will get me through. And slowly ever so slowly, this hurt will heal and I will be who He intended me to be once more. Not who I was- I can never be her again, but a new Kari who is a little more wary of this world, and alot more aware of other's pain and the powerful need to fulfil my place in this life as a wife, mother, daughter, and friend....it's my CHOICE...

Dear Kari.......Love God

When the rain
Is blowing in your face
And the whole world
Is on your case
I could offer you
A warm embrace
To make you feel My love

When the evening shadows
And the stars appear
And there is no - one there
To dry your tears
I could hold you
For a million years
To make you feel My love

I know you
Haven't made
Your mind up yet
But I would never
Do you wrong
I've known it
From the moment
That we met
No doubt in My mind
Where you belong

I'd go hungry
I'd go black and blue
I'd go crawling
Down the avenue
No, there's nothing
That I wouldn't do
To make you feel My love

The storms are raging
On the rolling sea
And on the highway of regret
Though winds of change
Are blowing wild and free
You ain't seen nothing
Like Me yet

I could make you happy
Make your dreams come true
Nothing that I wouldn't do
Go to the ends
Of the Earth for you
To make you feel My love, To make you feel My love

The Silent Pleas

As the months have passed I have tried to go on. I have tried to live this life as normal as I can. But the truth, the painful hard truth, is that I find I cannot go on. I cannot live with this failure in my heart. This failure that is so large that it is eating me up inside. There is a lump in my throat everyday. There are tears in my eyes because I cannot face life wothout him. I tried so hard to save him and noone would listen. Now I find I am trying so hard with myself and noone hears my pleas. My silent, deafening pleas for help. Life has went back to normal for everyone, but not for me. For me there is no life. There is a space in my heart that is dark and black and oh so bleak. People say, "You have to be strong for your other children!" But how can I when I have no strength left.
Jeff is everywhere here. He is in my basement. The soft, quiet lonely still basement that holds a treasure box that is filled with what is left of my son's life. He is on our livingroom wall. His pictures look at me with smiling faces that I cannot fathom ever held any truth in them. But mostly, mostly he is in my mind. I struggle every moment when something of him flashes through my mind. I am alone in a world full of people who do not understand. I am tired. So very tired of Tim, my children, and this life. I cannot meet their needs anymore because I am dying inside.- dying. I am pleading for help- begging God to get me through just one more day. And for what? For the constant reminder that I failed my son. That I failed to get him help. That I failed to see the depth of his anger that was really pain.
And why? Why did he do this? Was it really just one more thing to hurt me. Well, it worked. I am broken. I am more than broken. I am crushed to the very core. I am hanging on by a thread. Won't someone make this pain stop. This body is failing me so fast. I have no energy. I have no motive. I have nothing that makes this life a joy anymore. I tell myself I have these children, these grandchildren, this life. But as each day goes on I can see that I am a true failure in every sense on the word. I cannot remember things. Everything I do is wrong. People want so much and I cannot give anymore. I cannot do this anymore. There is no tomorrow...there is only today...this moment...and in this moment is so much pain for the child I gave everything I had to. He broke me. I am broken and I fear I shall never be fixed....never....
I thought getting the stone would help, but it does not. It is just a painful reminder that is real and he is never ever coming back. He chose to leave this life rather than be with us. I sucked that bad.
I thought going to see my grown children would help, but they are no comfort. They are so wrapped up in their own lives- their own grief that they cannot help their Momma- they can barely help themselves. Sometimes my friends see that I am losing it. And they hug me, but I want them to hold me...to take me in their arms and carry me away from here...away from this constant seering pain. I want to crawl inside of them and feel something, anything, but this. But they smile. They hug. And they go back to their unscathed lives and go on.
I tell everyone that I am living through it, but I am not. I am living in it. I am living around it. I am crying and sobbing and running so far and so fast that if I stop...I will curl up in a ball and die....I want to lay next to jeff one more time and rub his head and sooth his fears. I want to go to the top of the world and say, "IF YOU WOULD HAVE LISTENED- MY CHILD WOULD'VE LIVED!"
My body is here, but I am dying inside....just dying...the glass isn't half empty or half full....there is nothing in it anymore....Each time a child leaves my home, each day one of them gets sick, I am terrified they will die and with them a bigger slice of me will fgo until there's truly nothing left but a shall of a woman who had so many hopes and dreams for a family and children who are no longer the same. It will never ever be the same.
I need to get passed this to survive. I need to write out this pain and let it heal, but I cannot trust God. I hang on to Him and wait for the next tragedy to come and pray I can get through. What if I cannot? Will I succumb to insanity....I do not know....

So Tired

I am tired. Tired of fighting to keep my head above water. Tired of trying to make everyone feel better. Tired of trying to figure out what the heck happened and why. Tired of trying to help my family. basically, I'm tired of this life. Actually, I am tired of this death. I am tired of everyone making this seem like a huge remember Jeff love fest. I am tired of noone saying that what he did was wrong, hateful, and hurtful . I am tired of watching Katie-Grace die inside as she grapples to figure out this stuff that I can't even figure out. I am tired that Jeff never thought about her, or them, or us when he did this. I am tired that for alot of people this is over. BUT FOR ME- IT IS NEVER OVER. I see his death everywhere. In Katce's face, in there quietness, at his grave, in a song, in a photo, in my nightmares (that's if I ever sleep), in the anger on his face- I see it every moment of everyday. I am tired of trying to be happy and find joy. I am tired of waking upp and wishing I could go back to sleep. I am tired of never being good enough at this and tired of wondering if I really care. I am tired of needing God so badly that it hurts that I cannot forgive Him for what Jeff did. I cannot fathom why this pain has to go on, I see the rainbows, but I cannot holding up the umbrella in the rain. I am tired of getting up, breathing, being afraid, being paranoid, having life go on, forgetting stuff, wondering everyday for the rest of my life if I couldn't have done one more thing to stop this- one more thing to stop him. I am tired of not being able to control one aspect of my life and tired of trying to get antwhre, anytime, with anything. This is a huge bad dream and sometimes I cannot shake it. I am tired of being messed with, ignored, and unloved. I DID NOT DO THIS! I spent the whole last 2 years of his life trying to get someone- anyone to listen to me and HELP HIM! It isn't me who failed- it is a society, a system, hell bent on people's rights, but not so bent on protecting someone from those same rights. I stood over that car and saw the blood, the gun, the hot humid air, and I died with him too. I will never ever forget that awful day...but must I relive it everyday of my life....I am soo tired...

A Guiltless Sign

Each day I do what I have to get through the day- and I do...mostly. But there are some days, the bad days, that I become so overwelmed that I cannot function. I understand that my son is dead. I understand that he chose to take his own life. I finally have come to understand that it wasn't my fault. But what I fail to understand is the whys....
Why did Jeff have to die?
Why did he choose to kill himself?
Why did he choose death over life?
Why couldn't he let us help him?
But mostly why did he do this to our family?
It is on these days that I find myself wandering to the cemetary to have a heart to heart with my God and my son. Not long ago, on a day when I was pretty sure I couldn't get through just one more day, that I had had it with God and this whole idea of living with suicide I went to the cemetary.
 The cemetary is quiet. It is lonely. But it is also a place where many come to visit their loved ones. Not that they are really there, but for some reason it makes us feel closer to the person we miss so much.
I told God that day, that I was dying inside, that the guilt was killing me. The awful guilt that many paople have made me feel. That I was somehow responsible for my son's death. People can be so cruel and through the course of Jeff's death- people have said many cruel things which I have been able to ignore except those directed at my parenting skills. Those comments have hurt me so deeply that i believe on some level that I will never recover from them. And it is with this agony that I went to my Lord and Savior and asked Him for a sign that this wasn't my fault. I begged Him really. I was sobbing on my knees on Jeff's grave, pulling weeds, trying to clean up my boy's only home.
Please, Lord, please...this cannot be my fault. It cannot be. I cannot mother anymore...I cannot function anymore...I do not want to eat or sleep....I do not want to laugh...I do not want to go anywhere or get outta bed or get a shower...I cannot even love... this is destroying me...totally destroying me...I am dying Lord, dying...do You care? Is this the life You want for me? I have to have a sign God...a sign from You...if this is not my fault than I want You to send me a person, right here, right now- who knew Jeff, who knew our situation, and I need them to tell me that Jeff didn't kill himself because of me...if You don't give me this sign- then I will dy inside...I already am...
And I wept. I wept so long and so hard that I could barely see. My face was buried in my hands and I was so overcome with guilt and grief that I hadn't even looked up. I hadn't even heard a thing.
And then I looked up. And there, sitting at the end of cemetary drive was one of Jeff's good friends, Dustin. He was on his motorcycle. He was there waiting. Just waiting. I hadn't even heard him. I didn't know how long he'd been there. I only knew he was there, and I knew that God had sent him.- sent him for me.
I wiped my face. I crept into my car. I drove to the end of the drive. Dustin came and met me. And I cried. "Do you know why you are here?," I said to him.
He looked at me with that soft, winning, boyish grin,"Well, it's been about a month and I felt like I just needed to come today..."
"Dustin, I prayed for you to come...you are an answer to prayer. I asked God to send someone to me that knew Jeff well and who could tell me that this wasn't my fault..." and I began to weep.
"This is not your fault...it never was. There was just something that was wrong...I don't know what. But no one blames you ...Jeff didn't do this because of you...he just did it..." and we talked and he shared and I felt the guilt lift and I felt God's peace and presence all around me. And as I spoke to this boy, this young man who was sharing about my son, I became so thankful for these friends of Jeff's who stood by him through thick and thin. I saw them not as children, but as people who may have kept Jeff alive for a couple more years. If it wasn't for these young people, Jeff wouldn't have survived as long as he did.
As I watched Dustin drive to have his time with Jeff, I left my time with him, feeling the first true peace I had felt in months. I asked God for a sign and He gave it to me...He gave me His undivided attention and love...I mattered to him. And it wasn't my fault. I am sure of that now. I made some mistakes and I'd come to grips with those, but the choice Jeff made was his and his alone. God uses many things to show us his love, but his use of Dustin that day was nothing short of miraculous. In fact, it was the miracle that truly saved my life....

I Saw God Today...saving Katie-Grace

By pessimistic nature I do not believe that a young child has the ability nor the comprehension to get saved. I've never agreed with the concept. And so when they have the invitation at the end of VBS each year I want to grab my little Katce and run for our lives. This outlook isn't without merit. Last year when Katce was sitting at the end of VBS listening to the prayer a girl grabbed her arm and said, "Come on Katie-Grace, if you come up and say the prayer...you'll get a Bible!" So Katce grabbed her hand and went on up to get her Bible. But there was a major problem halfway through the prayer when they told Katce she could go to heaven and live with Jesus...,"I DON'T WANT TO GO TO HEAVEN AND SEE JESUS! I'M STAYING RIGHT HERE WITH MOMMIE AND DADDY!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "AND YOU CAN HAVE YOUR DUMB, OLD BIBLE!" and she flung that Bible and ran into my waiting arms out in the vestibule. For weeks, even months after that Katce didn't like God, Jesus, or anything church related. If He was going to take her to heaven without her family then in her young mind...she was done with him. She was staying with us and that was that!
So this year after we sat and the preacher began to get close to making the prayer invitation, I thought, man, we need to be outta here....but something made me stay. Call it intuition. Call it curiosity. Call it what it truly was...GOD. Pastor began to preach and I felt my stomach knot up...if Katce wasn't receptive, Tim and I would spend another whole year trying to get our youngest daughter to love and trust God. I opened my eyes and watched her hold her folded hands tight and pray like she was truly listening. "Momma, you mean if I ask Jesus in my heart, I can go to heaven someday to see my Jeffy and Jesus?' she asked wide eyed in a serious whisper.
"Y-yes Darling, if you ask Jesus in your heart you can someday go to heaven to see your Jeffy and Jesus,' I answered through a choked up sob and nearly dying inside with emotion.
She clutched my hand and said so quiet and serious that I could barely here her small still voice, "Then I guess I better say that prayer. Could you help me?" She looked so innocent so full of anticipation that I started to cry.
Okay, Lord, give me the words and the courage...,"Say, Dear Jesus," and she whisoerd, "Dear Jesus,"...and we prayed the prayer together. "Let's go get my Bible," she yelled and grabbed my hand.
We waited in line, Katce smiling, me sobbing. Lord I cannot believe how you have used Jeff's death and now this. Thanks to Jeffy's death, my Babiest Girl is saved. She's saved. Jeff, she will indeed see you in heaven someday....

I Saw God Today

Just walked down the street to the coffee shop
Had to take a break
I'd been by her side for 18 hours straight
Saw a flower growin' in the middle of the sidewalk
Pushin' up through the concrete
Like it was planted right there for me to see
The flashin' lights
The honkin' horns
All seemed to fade away
In the shadow of that hospital at 5:08
I saw God today

I've been to church
I've read the book
I know he's here
But I don't look
Near as often as I should
Yeah, I know I should
His fingerprints are everywhere
I just slowed down to stop and stare
Opened my eyes and man I swear
I saw God today

Saw a couple walkin' by they were holdin' hands
Man she had that glow
Yeah I couldn't help but notice she was startin' to show it
Stood there for a minute takin' the sky
Lost in that sunset
Splash of amber melted in the shades of red

I've been to church
I've read the book
I know he's here
But I don't look
Near as often as I should
Yeah, I know I should
His fingerprints are everywhere
I just slowed down to stop and stare
Opened my eyes and man I swear
I saw God today

Got my face pressed up against the nursery glass
She's sleepin' like a rock
My name on her wrist
Wearin' tiny pink socks
She's got my nose, she's got her mama's eyes
My brand new baby girl
She's a miracle
I saw God today

I Saw God Today

I have, up to this point, written about Jeff's death and the tremendously painful grief that we as a family and I as a mother encountered. But out of Jeff's death has also come numerous blessings. The first being the many lives that Jeff's death saved; six people decided to come forward and ask for help and didn't committ suicide as they were contemplating. Secondly, the  two people who can now see because of Jeff's eyes being harvested. There were also many people whose lives were also saved due to all of the tissue that they were able to get from his body, his veins, etc. Thirdly, the awareness in the community about suicide, attachment disorder syndrome, as well as the healing and open communication that Jeff's death has ultimately brought not only to our family, but to his friends as well. I have to say I am very, very thankful to everyone who continues to step up for the people who are continuing to grieve for our son. God is working every single day to use this huge tradgedy by turning it into blessings. And so, as I continue this journey and I begin to actually heal and function, I would like to share my sightings of God as well as the sightings others have had. God has used many, many situations and people to change the course of Jeffy's suicide form horrific, to happiness. He has used two small children certain to die; to cardinal birds placed at the right place and the right times; to even a man on a motorcycle; and He has even used Jeff himself. And while many people will not believe these truths that I will write about, it doesn't matter...God is in control...He can do anything...He always has and He always will.......to God be all of the glory....

Out of Control

We were ushered out of the church so fast that it made my head spin. There was absolutely no time to even realize what had just happened. The vans pulled up and we got in. I don't know where all of my children were- but they were not all with me. That continued to bother me horrendously throughout the next minutes, days, and months. The knowledge of knowing exactly where they were at every moment was an and is an absolute- a protection mechonism that somehow if I knew where they were- I could protect them from this death. The ride was horrible. How does one ride to the buriel plot of their son? How does one even wrao their mind around that. I didn't know. I felt like a caged animal. My children were so into their grief that I couldn't reach them. The isolation from them so complete that I felt incomplete. This was all happenening too fast. How would I ever overcome this? What if I couldn't?
The cemetary was packed and it was cold. Pastor Matt began to speak. His mouth was moving, but what was he saying. I wanted these people gone. I only wanted it to be our family. How had this gotten so far out of control? Where did all these people come from? Where were they this past week? Why didn't they help me help my son? They said we have to leave...oh no...I cannot leave him...I cannot put him in the ground. I could feel myself coiling up into the fetal position inside. I will die from this. I know I will. They will not let me hug the casket. They will not let me comfort my children. My life from here on in is over. I am dead. I have nothing. I have failed Jeff and now I have failed them. Why God? Why? Why make all of my dreams come true just to crush them.
My children were quietly making their way back to the vans and I was stuck watching them suffer....watching from what felt like so far away.They got into the vans and the silence was so deafening. What had I done to ever deserve this from them. Why won't they let me mother them? I didn't understand. So as we left Jeffy in that cold, dark unmarked grave, we left everything I thought I was and evrything I believed that I would ever be and my life was never the same again...not even today... 

The Daughter of my Heart; Sarah Raterink-Lovell

How does a person even begin to write about watching a child in pain? How does a mother sit and suffer as her child faces the biggest challenge of her life? I do not know these answers. I didn't know them then, and I certainly do not know them today. But what I do know is that on the day of Jeff's funeral when Sarah took the stage to sing Jeff's favorite Christian song, she was dying inside. She knew it. Her family knew it. Tim and I knew it. And God knew it. I watched this beautiful, young woman, who could never intentionally hurt another human being, suffer beyond what any child should have to suffer as she took the microphone to honor one of her very best friends. She was there to honor a young man whom she had watched go from "happy go lucky" to spiraling out of emotional control. Sarah had done everything humanly possible to get Jeff to get some help, but like us, Sarah couldn't get through to him, she could only love him, pray for him, and try to be his friend. Her friendship had put her "on call" with Jeff 24 hours a day and she, and her fiance Chris, had spent many a long night talking and trying to minister to Jeff. So to watch my lil Sweetie take the stage was a horrendous hurt for me and I began to pray as never before that God would fill her full of his Holy Spirit and use her to minister to these people, to give her strength beyond measure, and to  hold her safely in His wings.Her job on that day was far more important than any job she would ever face....she had to testify through song, that even though Jeff  had committed suicide, he was a saved man and he believed with all his heart that Jesus Christ was his Saviour.....
We first met Sarah singing at church. She took the stage one Sunday evening, somehow standing next to her brother John, scared to death to sing in front of the church. I remember thinking what a gorgeous, vivacious, young woman. I literally was blown away by the sunshine she radiated each and every time she walked on a stage or entered a room  (and I still am). Sarah's faith is so strong and grounded, that when she hurts, you can feel her Saviour ache for her just by her gentle, sweet presence. The voice that came out of her body that day was angelic, and as the song went on I was excited to see how God would use this beauty to light up His world. I didn't know it then, but Sarah was to become such an inaugeral part of our family that her joys would become my joys and her hurts would become my hurts. She would become so many things. First, she would become Katce's lil caregiver in her early baby years, coming to give us a break whenever she could, and just take Katce out to play. Next, she was to become one of the few women that my daughter Lacey would come to love and trust with her whole being and call her best friend, and in that process, I too (as well as Tim) would grow to love her like a daughter. Lastly she would become a mentor for Jeff the last four years of his life culminating in being one of the last people to see and talk to him alive. The latter would leave a mark and eventually a scar on Sarah's heart that she will never get over, but she will get through.
The last week of Jeff's life, he chose to make many wrongs in his life right, and I unknowingly encouraged him to do this thinking that I was helping him get rid of his guilty"demons". But I believe now, that I was in fact, helping him set the stage to "right his wrongs" and "go in peace".
Sarah, too, played a part in Jeff's last days. She filled his nights with hope and his days with a sense of reality of who he was to her and to God. In essence, she literally loved my son to death. She taught him and made him feel worthy and for that I am eternally grateful. I cannot speak of the things that happened between my son and Sarah on the day Jeff killed himself. I cannot speak for Sarah, and I would never ever presume to know her pain; the pain of betrayal, the pain of utter loss, and the feeling of genuine guilt. But I can say, that for Sarah, Jeff's suicide has brought to this Sweetness, a test of faith and a testimony of love. For my sweet lil Sarah had to come to a very humbling place, a place I had to come to, a place we will all have to come to: We are not God and loving someone, sometimes just isn't enough. Jeff made a choice and he knowingly not only involved this sweet girl, he also underestimated her faith in her God, herself, and her love for my son. Because for Sarah, Jeff still lives. She remebers not the final hours, but the days, the months, the years that she was allowed to be a prat of his life. She is still his friend.  She is still committed to him, to us and to God.
So as this beauty took the stage and mustered up the courage to sing for her Brother, I thanked God that he chose her to be there all along; on the good days, the bad days, that awful day, and now in our everyday. For without Sarah, my son wouldn't have known the unconditional love of a girl whom he could always call "Friend" even in death, she was true to him. And she is even today...
Love you Sweetness,
always and forever.

Jeff's Dad

They began to play the photos of Jeff's life and everytime a new phot came across the screen, memories flooded my very soul. And with those memories came great joy. JOY. Joy- a novel concept, something that had been missing since all of this happened. Tim was sobbing now and so I held him close. I could feel the bruising as he clutched my arm during his sobs. So hard for him to let go of Jeff..always was. Tim could never ever give up on one of his kids, but especially Jeff. Tim had wanted Jeff to be his son long before I had any clue what life had in store for me as a mother...I guess when you pray for an addition to your family, that you should really be quite specific.
I remembered the internet photo caption read, "This boy needs a Dad!" and Tim was sold. He was ready to adopt Jeff then and there, but not me. I was frightened to the core. "Are you kidding me...adopt five kids?" I truly believed Tim to be insane. How could a white family from Michigan even begin to parent a bunch of black kids from New York. But after several attempts to sway me and me acting like a scared brat for a week- that's exactly what we did. We met, fell in love with, and adopt those kids. They were great kids and so easy to love and Tim was an awesome dad. Even to Jeff, but especially to Jeff. Jeff was so hard to parent. Hot one minute and cold the next. But Tim had a way with him and he never gave up on Jeffrey. No matter what Jeff did...Tim couldn't walk away and he always gave him the benefit of the doubt. Even when Jeff committed three misdemeanrs in his sophmore year...even when he smacked around his siblings...even when he ran away...even when he said he hated us...even when he said he wished we'd go to hell...Tim never gave up. He just couldn't - it's not in his character.
But the pain I felt in this man today was that of a broken man who could never ever forgive what Jeff had done this time. Tim had tried so hard with this son. He'd drove him to games, changed schools, went to practices, worked overtime to provide the best of everything, studied with him, reasoned with him, begged and pleaded with him, and even moved our entire family back to MI when Jeff was getting into trouble in NM. But taking his life, his own life  was something that Tim couldn't or wouldn't forgive. Jeff's life was a gift from God, and Jeffrey's walking away meant that his life had meant nothing. If anyone knows anything about my husband, it's that he is a terrific father and he truly feels it is his mission to be a father to the fatherless. And now Jeff had taken that "life" and snuffed it out and in the process, snuffed the life out of Tim as well. I didn't know what to do except hold him and love him. I tried to be aware of the children. But all I managed to do was be aware of Tim and his profound soorrow- an angry sorrow that still exists to this very day.
Anyone can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a Dad and that someone special is my husband, Tim Burd.
How would he deal with this profound hurt in the months to come...I could only wonder. But as the funeral moved on and I still felt a steady peace and joy...I began to truly understand the pain of others as Sarah stood to sing....

A man of God- Pastor Matt Rohde

I couldn't look around...my eyes were full of tears and I was petrified. I couldn't see my kids. I couldn't see Trudy. I could only clutch Tim's arm and try to keep standing. I could see that we were almost to the front, but how I got there I'll never know. Run...run fast and run far! Yell...turn around and yell! Tell them that they should have listened! Tell them that you told them he needed help! Tell them that if they would've left him alone and let you mother him that it would be okay now. He wouldn't be dead. You wouldn't be here.
We sat down...and waited. waited for them to bring up the casket. Waited fro my sons and Cody to carry Jeff's body. I sobbed. And then - Tim sobbed. And I died inside with each shake of his body. See what you did? If you would've tried harder. Chased him longer.Why? Why can't we go back? Why can't we have a do over? We tried so hard and no one knows how hard. And we tried for what? For this? For this death...he would've rather been dead than be alive with me? I suck...I must really suck.
I stole a glance at my now seated children who were not glancing back. They were in so much pain and I couldn't change it...heck, I couldn't even stop wallowing in my own self pity to help them.
Pastor Matt stood up and I watched him struggle to maintain composure and for the first time in all of this mess...a joy began to spread over me. A prayer- a true prayer flooded my heart  and I begged God to help this man deliver a eulogy for a child whom he adores. Pastor Matt's loss was a great one and he wouldn't get through this funeral with out God. He wouldn't be able to be used as a useful tool for God if he didn't have a huge amount of prayer....and so for the rest of the funeral I began to pray for everyone involved. Jeff's life needed to stand for God. Jeff's testimony  could be a thread for countless others to be saved. So as Pastor Matt began to speak...I spoke too...and the heaven's were opened...
Pastor Matt had been an influential part of Jeff's life since we moved back to Michigan in Jeff's freshman year of school. I'm not exactly sure why, but I can only guesstimate that it had alot to do with the similarities that Matt saw between himself and Jeff. Jeff adored Matt and he knew that Matt was always in his corner. When Jeff could not speak to us or open up...he could open up to Matt. And while in Matt, Jeff had a pastor, mentor, and friend...Tim and I had a trustworthy man of God who could and would help our son. Many, many times when Jeff was struggling- it was Matt who was able to mold him, and make him into that young man that God intended. It was Matt who could teach Jeff a lesson with a mere life application and Jeff would get it and grow and Matt would move on to teach Jeff whatever God showed him. Jeff never ever forgot that Matt was in his corner and he knew that no matter what, Matt would stand by him and help him and petition God for him.It was Matt who taught Jeff about sportsmanship. It was Matt who taught Jeff about winning his peers for Christ. It was Matt who continually pulled Jeff out of the fire much of his high school years. I honestly believe that if Jeff hadn't had Matt, that we may have lost him to suicide his sophomore year. But Matt never quit on Jeff. Tim and I would argue with Matt, disagree with him, but Matt stood firm and he would continue to fight for what he believed God had in store for Jeff. Such a struggle for a pastor so young, such a great task, but Matt lived up to it time and time again. I was grateful that Matt was there for Jeff, grateful that Jeff made amends with Matt after Jeff had walked away from their friendship for a brief while, grateful that Matt stood his ground with Jeff, but still made him see that he loved him as did God. But mostly I was grateful that Matt stood on this pulpit, flooded with love and sadness for a young man whom he fought to keep alive in both life and Christ. Matt's job today would not be easy. He would not be able to do it alone...but he would do it. he would do it for Jeff's memory, but more importantly he would stand up there for a God whom he loved more anything else. A God whom brought him to his knees and he would use this opportunity and this awful death and he would win kids to Christ. Jeff's life and death would not be in vain....not as long as Pastor Matt's faith was in charge...

Good-Bye My Lil Blackbird

Pack up all my care and woe
Here I go, singing low
Bye bye blackbird
Where somebody waits for me
Sugar's sweet, so is she
Bye bye blackbird

No one here can love and understand me
Oh, what hard luck stories they all hand me
Make my bed and light the light
I'll arrive late tonight
Blackbird, bye bye