11 months today (not today, today. August 1st), around 10pm, my Jayson took his last breath. The support that followed from family, friends and even complete strangers was something I never could’ve dreamt of. From cleaning my house and taking care of my children to making sure we were fed, our community took care of our every need.
Then, the mailbox started to fill up with letters and cards. Flowers filled my home. They were kind gestures, but I resented them. Most of the plants, I gave away. The cards were thrown in a box, never again to see the light of day, or so I thought.
In a recent conversation with a friend, she asked if I had read the cards yet. Of course not! I hadn’t given them a second thought since the majority of them were thrown across my home in fits of anger, then eventually, placed in a box for safe keeping because I did appreciate that people cared enough to send one.
Her question peeked my curiosity.
I couldn’t remember who attended his memorial service, let alone those who sent cards and flowers. I can’t even remember if I sent thank you cards or even acknowledged receiving anything! That was a dark time and I assume (really, I’m hoping) no one was offended by my lack of gratitude at that time.
I climbed into the top of Jayson’s freshly packed up closet and dug out the picture box that held everything that was given to me. There were beautiful poems, bible verses written on slips of paper, cards from the flowers, (that I had no idea I had saved) and an endless sea of envelopes. Way too many to open and read in one sitting. So, I reached in and grabbed just one.
It was from my mom.
I remember looking at it when it was handed to me originally. I did read it, but didn’t see the words. I didn’t “see” anything at that time. Reading this card reminded me of how much I’ve missed this past year. I was present, but I was indifferent. Nothing had really made me happy. I hadn’t experienced real joy.
Then, at some point a few months ago, something clicked. A fog was lifted and life began again. No more auto pilot. No more “what am I doing.” My eyes were opened and I was finally adapting to my “new normal” (I hate that phrase by the way…)
This past weekend, Jayson would have been 33.
I could’ve just ignored it like I did Father’s Day, but that just didn’t seem right. This was the day my best friend, my husband, Leah and Lauren’s daddy, was born! It truly was a day to celebrate, so we did. I wanted to invite everyone who had been here for us this past year, but my street couldn’t hold that many cars. The girls and I rented a water slide, my sister in law filled a pool with water balloons, my girls baked and decorated a cake (on their own), Jayson’s mom and sister drove in from New Mexico. We ate good food, laughed and reminisced. The kids were non-stop. It was wonderful!
At the end of the party, we released balloons. During the party, guests wrote messages to J on them. Some were super heartfelt, some were silly inside jokes. We sang Happy Birthday, then sent our birthday greetings to heaven.
Releasing balloons for Jayson’s birthday.
There were some tears shed. Even some of the manly men couldn’t hold them back. It was a beautiful expression of the love so many shared for my husband.
We watched as 30 something balloons floated to him, amazed that they all stayed together. Not one drifted from the others. In hindsight, those balloons were just mimicking what those who released them have learned: You’re stronger together then you will ever be alone.
I am so thankful for everyone who has been there for my family, offered kind words, took my girls on play dates, called, sent cards and flowers, showed up on my doorstep, ect. There’s no possible way we could have gotten through this past year without you. Thank you all so very much for the blessing of your friendships and mostly, thank you all for your support and never giving up on us!
Thanks for checking in y’all!!!
Kelly