Memories Don't Need A Box

Today we officially put an on offer on a new house.  Tomorrow my home will go on the market.  And while I am excited, my heart also hurts. Yes, Steven and I will be starting on an exciting, new adventure.  But at the same time we are leaving our home that we shared with Jared.  Jared lived in that house.  Jared died in that house.  Our home, the only one Steven has ever known. How can I just leave all that behind?  I know I'll never leave Jared behind.  His spirit, his memories, his love will always be with us.  But I can't help but feel like this is a goodbye of sorts.

I don't want to say goodbye again.  Last week I was at such peace, so confident in my decision.  Today I'm wondering if I'll actually be able to leave parts of my old life to start my new life.   And if I'm this emotional now what's going to happen when I start packing?  Touching all of Jared's things?  Walking up and down the attic stairs?  Putting our life together in a box?  Emptying the old house and filling the new?

Last night I took pictures of the chalkboard wall in Steven's room. That wall has 10 years of memories on it. Words he wrote when he was only five or six. Pictures that friends drew years ago.  Messages that his dad left  for him.  And as I snapped photos of the chalkboard wall, I thought we are really closing one chapter and starting another. Steven looked at the wall and said I can't believe tomorrow morning will be the last time I see it like this. Our lives are changing and just like his chalkboard wall, it's time to wipe off some of the old so we can make room for some new.

But as we venture out for our fresh start,  our old lives will always be a part of us. Jared will always be written into the future volumes of our lives.  Because no matter where we go or where we call home, Jared lives on inside us.  Our memories are Priceless Treasures  that will always move with us.  No matter where we go, our memories are certain to come along. As my wise son told me a few years ago when I was selling our Gainesville house “it is just a house, no one can take our memories.”  So I guess what I have realized is our memories don't need a box, they live on in our hearts.

Year of Change

This year has been one of many changes. And more changes are coming.  Change can be terrifying but it can also be rewarding.

One big change has been me opening my heart to new love. If someone had told me a year ago that and I would be honoring Jared with a new love by my side I would have thought they were crazy. But that's just what we did this year. On September 16th, Jared's angelversary, we gathered together to celebrate the man we will never forget. And Jon was right by my side. As I sat at the table and looked around, I realized this is what I wanted. I wanted to move forward, to live my best life, to love with all my heart. And it is my choice who gets to sit at my table.  Who is my family.  Who is my tribe.  I'm so grateful Jon loves me for me and wants to be a part of my crazy journey.

Part of moving forward and living my best life is making some life changing big decisions.  Deciding what is best for Steven and I now, at this point in our journey. I have been praying hard for guidance.  And I finally feel at peace.  Comfortable with my decision to sell our home and move to St Pete.  Closer to Steven's school and friends.  Decreasing my commute for work. We have been house hunting for the last 2 weekends and hands down I have a favorite new home.  Now to see if it is where God thinks I need to be.  Will it be easy to leave the home we shared with Jared?  No.  Easy to leave the only home Steven has really ever known? No.  Easy to leave my friends and support network? No. But we will take our memories with us.  Steven will have new adventures in our new house. My friends and I will still get together, distance won't end our friendship.  

Change can be so frightening. Fear of failure. Fear of the unknown. Fear of letting go.  But it can be so exciting to start something new.  This year has been full of changes.  I can't wait to see what other new adventures await me.

Surviving 3 Years of Grief

Saturday will mark three years since Jared went home.  Three years since I last heard his voice.  Three years since my world changed.  Three years since I held Jared in my arms as he took his last breath.  Three years since I watched his face as he realized the angels were there to carry him home.  Three years since I kissed him as he left his earthly home to join Our Father in heaven.  I have never felt so helpless. So lost.  So empty.  My world forever changed at 7:50 pm on September 16, 2014.  Life immediately became before and after.  I couldn't imagine surviving that night. Or the next day. Or the next week. Or the next month. And definitely not the next year. And yet, somehow, I have survived three years.

I will never forget the gut wrenching pain I felt that night and for many nights to come. I will never be able to erase Steven's sobs of heartache from my memory.  I will never again be the person I was before that night.  That girl died with Jared.   Now words like widow and late husband are part of my daily vocabulary.  Hearing my son say “I wish my dad was here” or “my dad lives in heaven” is part of our everyday life.  Jared's death forced me to create a new normal.  Figure out who I was and who I wanted to be.  Be both mom and dad to a grieving child.  Always be the disciplinarian and still try to be the fun one. And more often than not, feel like I was screwing it up.  But one thing I never did, I never gave up.  I never quit.  Somehow, somewhere, deep in my soul I knew I was going to be ok.

I drew strength from my son, my friends, my family, and my faith.  And I survived.  And in this last year I have learned to live again.  I have opened my life to new adventures.  My heart to new love.  And my soul to be restored.  And I know Jared would be so proud.  Proud that I kept my promise.  Proud that I am honoring him by living my best life. Proud of the young man Steven is becoming.  Proud of how we are keeping his memory alive.  Proud that I once again laugh and dance in the rain.

Yes, my heart has a permanent scar, a scar that reminds me of my love story with an amazing man.  A scar that reminds me that love was worth the pain. A scar that says live because he can't.  Three  years ago I wanted to die.  Couldn't imagine life without Jared.  Was pissed that the world didn't stop for my grief.  But today, my scars from grief remind me just how far I have come.

Three years ago I was forever changed.  Jared's death changed me in ways I could never describe. But it also forced me to grow and adapt. His love gave me the strength to move forward. And it has taken a while, a lot of hard days and harder nights, but I’m beginning to like the person I am now.  And as I continue to move forward and build a new life, Jared's love will always inspire me.  

Three years feels like forever and yesterday all at the same time. Not a day goes by that I don't love and miss Jared. That I don't wish he was here. What I wouldn't give to have him here by my side.  But I am comforted knowing he is sitting in heaven, holding my spot.  And someday, I will see him again. 

Not The Worst Day Of My Life

3 years ago today I was told Jared was going to pass and pass quickly. I remember being shell shocked. Had no idea what to do or who to call. And I remember clearly thinking this is the worst day of my life. But it wasn't. I didn't know at the time but eight days later would actually be the worst day of my life. Instead that day and the ones that followed became ones of love. Friends and family came to see Jared. Tell him how much they loved him. Admired him. Respected him. How much he had inspired their lives. I got to see my dying husband hold our son and comfort Steven as his heart was breaking.  And hear him tell Steven just how much he loved him. How he would always love him. And that when Steven was happy on earth, Jared would be happy in heaven. I got to lay in the bed with Jared and just feel the love between us. Hear him say I love you, Carla. How beautiful those moments are.  And I am so grateful to carry them with me today.

I don't know how many people came to see and pray for Jared that day. But God was very present in that room.  I was privileged to witness the strength of Jared's faith. He told me he wasn't afraid to die.  That he knew he was going to heaven but that he hated to leave me and Steven.  And Steven’s faith...wow.  The faith of a child is an amazing thing. And Steven’s faith continues to amaze me everyday.  

So instead of focusing on the sorrow of that day, I'm going to focus on the positive. I'm going to focus on the love. The family. The faith.   I'm going to focus on the fact that God answered  Steven’s prayer and gave us a few more days with Jared. Days of memories to last us a lifetime.

And I hope as this week continues and I remember Jared's last week on Earth, that I can hold on to that love.  That faith.  That miracle of extra time.