Open up and let the light in

We’re breaking all the rules this morning: sleeping in bed with mom and on our stomach. I don’t even care. This isn’t a post about co-sleeping. I know people do it and I don’t actually think it’s wrong. I’m just a rule follower and I never wanted kids in my bed. But we are surviving until we’re thriving (AND WE WILL THRIVE) so the occasional co-sleeping it is.

Staring at this face this morning, I just started weeping because life is beautiful and love brings so much joy even when it’s hard. Right now, in these moments, my heart aches that my brother didn’t feel it or at least not enough of it. He would have made a great father. Maybe he never would have had kids, but now he will never have a moment like this. And even if he never had kids, he will never hold mine again or for the first time. This baby girl won’t know the loving arms of her uncle. It’s a loss she won’t even know she has (besides factually), but I know and I grieve for her, too.

My friend Kristen sent me this post this morning. I don’t know Rachel, but her account is public, so I’m hoping she won’t mind that I’m sharing this here. Her words are beautiful and they speak to my heart. During or after I write each of these posts, I feel the light creeping in and there is peace. My heart is not wrecked all day long, and I know that’s in part due to allowing myself to feel the pain when needed and letting the Lord fill those dark spaces with his light and love.

What has started as a huge gaping hole will shrink as I grieve and heal over time. Sometimes that’s hard to reconcile because it feels like moving on and letting go of my brother, and I desperately don’t want to lose any more of him. So I have to remind myself that it’s not my pain or sorrow that keeps his memory alive, but simply the love that I carry for him in my heart and nothing can take that away.

i need somewhere to put my grief

Today marks a month of my twin brother's tragic passing.  In so many moments it still does not feel real to me. I'm re-entering the blog world to have a space to unleash the pain in my heart and the thoughts in my head.  There are so many conversations I will never have with Jerrod, so I may have them here instead.

The last communication we had with you was a month ago yesterday.  We sent you this video of Jackson riding his birthday gift from you.

You spent so much time and thought into choosing what vehicle to get Jackson, texting different options to both Bret and Cody....finally deciding on the Mickey speedster. You missed Jackson's birthday and had no way of knowing that this was what we had put on Jackson's birthday cake.  It feels like an intuitive gift.  We joked that you should have charged it before giving it to Jackson because it required charging for 24 hours, so you never actually got to see him ride it.  Once we figured out how to charge it, Jackson was a bit afraid of it.  The last message Bret sent you was the video of Jackson actually riding around on it and telling you "thanks Uncle Jerrod."  I don't know if Jackson has said "Uncle Jerrod" since you died and it breaks my heart that this will continue to decrease in frequency as you slowly fade from his world.  I don't know how to keep you alive in his memory when he cannot comprehend death. So when he asks who got him the Mickey car, I simply say "Uncle Jerrod" and I hope he doesn't ask any follow up questions; at least not yet.

Brother, we miss you daily.  There are so many questions and things we'll never understand. I just keep recalling the joy you had with Jackson and I struggle to reconcile it with the pain that must've been brewing underneath. I know you don't feel it anymore and I pray ours lessens by the day so we can simply remember you with a smile on our face; that same infamous smile everyone loved of yours.