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...