Benny’s Garden

After the accident, Parker had these grand ideas about creating a garden/zen like space somewhere in our yard. If you don’t know my yard, it’s the kind where wild things grow, where nature takes over and landscaping is a battle. When we bought our house some ten years ago, the yard was so overgrown you could barely see the front of the house. I remember walking through the backyard and feeling like I was in the book ‘The Secret Garden.’

For years we’ve tried our best to tame our wild things. For years we’ve also tried our hand at a vegetable garden to no avail. We tried to grow them in pots from seeds, than seedlings with no success. This year I figured that if my soil could produce such beautiful flowers and an abundance of weeds, logically it would be the best place to grow our vegetables.

Parker borrowed a rototiller and built raised beds. Darcy and I had planted seeds back in March and some of those we were able to transplant, but most of them didn’t make it. We had tried sunflowers, but they also were sun fried and wilted. So while Parker was on the Great Race we planted cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes, sweet potatoes, strawberries, squash, corn, pumpkin and beans from seedlings. I really had no clue if this would work or what would grow, so Darcy and I planted a little bit of everything. We put up some netting, watered nightly and sat back and watched the garden bloom! It finally worked!

Darcy and I began calling this our ‘Benny Garden.’ I hung my wind chimes out on a tree nearby and bought a large metal sunflower and hung it on the fence. We moved our ‘Benny light’ that was given to us by a stranger from the roadside memorial and put a little picket fence complete with pinwheels, Benny’s favorite.

At the same time we bought the seedlings, we bought more sunflowers and tried again to grow them in pots. I eventually moved the pots over to the vegetable garden and was excited when the sunflowers actually began to grow! What was even more exciting were the sunflowers that were mysteriously growing in both raised beds. The only ones that we had planted were in the pots and now 10+ sunflowers have started to sprout up everywhere in the beds inexplicably. Perhaps inexplicably isn’t the right word. Once again, my little man’s work.

Just when I feel like I haven’t gotten a sign in awhile, something so concrete happens. People say that it’s happening because we are open to it, but I would say it would be hard to miss what’s happened in the last 9 months.

Storyland

Last weekend we escaped to New Hampshire. I say ‘escaped’ because Parker and I had 2 blissful days alone. We could actually start AND finish a conversation uninterrupted, stay up late, and go to a restaurant without a kids menu. I love Darcy and try very hard not to take a moment of my time with her for granted, but it was a nice break.

Tara and Chris met us with the kids on Friday and we ventured to Storyland. We already did Disney, so I was unprepared for my reaction in Storyland. Maybe it was because Darcy was around the same age as Benny the first time we took her, maybe it was because there were a million little blond eyed angels with curly blonde locks, or maybe the numbness is starting to give way to reality. Whatever the case, it was tough.

You can’t really dwell on it when you’re running around with three very energetic kiddos, so once the moment happened, something would distract me and I would be on my way. We had a really great time and it was so nice to see Darcy really break out of her comfort zone and exhibit some confidence. We had a blast.

When we were sitting in the condo I noticed that Chris’ bag had the number 88 on it, the bag that we took around to the park and hiking. We were also lucky enough to hear Benny and the Jets on the way to our Sunday hike to the river. Darcy and I always sang that song to the dude, and it’s probably how his nickname came about. There’s those signs again. It was comforthing to know that he was there with us, I just rather it be in person…

8 Months ‘AA’

I’m angry. I’m angry and I’m sad. We sat down to update our pictures in our picture frames. We will never have pictures of Benny past 17 months old, he will forever be frozen in time. I will never know what he would have looked like because he will never grow up. When he was born I remember the nurse holding him and asking him if he would be the one to cure cancer or create world peace. We will never know what amazing things he could have done with his life. I look at Darcy and she just seems so damn grown up. I miss having my little guy around. Like Parker said the other night, I just want to blow raspberries on his tummy.

It’s been 8 months. I don’t know how this happened. When we hit 17 months we will have lived without him the same length of time that we lived with him. We’re almost halfway there. It kills me inside. I don’t know why this happened to us. I don’t know why it was him and not me. I don’t know why I’m here again. My grandparents, my aunt, my uncle, my God parents, my mom and my son. Maybe I’m cursed. Maybe this is hell and I don’t even know it. Sure feels like it some days.

8 months. There’s that number again. November 8th, the day he died; May 8th, the day we buried him; June 18th, the day the water main broke; 88, Parker’s car number on the Great Race. I’m not sure yet the significance of 8. I know that turned on it’s side it symbolizes infinity. How ironic a sign of infinity in this case.

I look at my physical scars, mostly healed now and I’m frustrated. How do I look the same 8 months later on the outside? There are a few scars, but nothing that really tells the story of the accident on my body. How is that possible? Why am I spared? There are days when I feel that I should carry the scarlet letter A on myself, for accident.

I’m scared to meet new people because I don’t want to answer the question about how many children I have. It feels wrong to not mention Benny. It’s easier when people just know, although if I have to listen to another person ask me how I’m doing, I might scream. How do you think I’m doing 8 months after watching my son die? I know they mean well, it just gets tiring. I’m tired. Of all of this.

8 months and I’m still numb. 8 months and I still don’t understand.

Petition for Bereaved Parents Time off of Work

I was blessed (and still am) to have disability kick in so that I can take time off of work. I came across this petition on another bloggers site and feel that it’s important to push this forward. Losing your child is like losing a physical part of your body. Would you be back at work so quickly after losing a limb? Please sign, support and send along this petition. Thanks.

Heavy Heart

This year I’m going to do the Breast Cancer 3 Day – again. Over a decade ago I started this journey for my mother as I tried to wrap my head around why I had to say good-bye to her so early. I signed up by myself and took a deep breath. I wasn’t the type to take on something new by myself, so this was a huge step for me, but I was committed.

The most amazing thing happened during that first walk, I met some of the most amazing women. This feels like an understatement. I have spent the last 10 years walking, sharing, crying and laughing with these ladies. We created our own little family in which we raised our kids and continued to grow closer. These ladies and their husbands sat by our sides, held our hands while we cried in November and helped to take over arrangements. I cannot explain the type of bond we have formed. I am forever thankful for my BFF family.

After the accident, I debated not walking this year. My heart wasn’t really in it at first, I wasn’t sure if I could commit to the fundraising or training. I was so focused on what I had lost, yet again. It felt like so much in my life had changed, I wasn’t sure if I could do this walk again.

I know now that I NEED this walk. I need something to work towards. I NEED to not give up. I switched cities so that I wouldn’t have to face my fellow 3 Day walkers that are familiar with my kids and so that Tara could walk with me. It will be weird, to not be surrounded by my Boston 3 Day friends, but I’ve accepted it. It will be awful to not see Benny cheering me on in pink alongside his sister.

My kids are such a big part of this walk. As much as I do it in my mom’s memory, I always got involved because I was so scared that my kids might one day lose me to cancer, I never in a million years thought that I might lose one of them. I need to find a purpose again, to remember what I started all those years ago and why it’s still important to me.

It’s with a heavy heart that I walk this year. Will it be hard, yes, it will truly suck. I feel robbed again by life. This walk is such a symbol for my life now though, putting one foot in front of the other. http://www.the3day.org/goto/sheri2014

The Great Race

1939 LaSalle

In Gumby

great_race_media_2014

photo-29

Last Saturday Darcy and I dropped Parker off in Lowell to begin the Great Race, which is a classic/antique automobile road rally that stretches from Maine to Florida.  It is a timed event where you are not allowed cell phones or GPS, just someone that you can trust to navigate and a car that can you from point A to point B.  Parker was part of what I call the ‘pit crew.’  He and another had to travel down the coast with the truck, tools and trailer ‘just in case.’  

At the end of every day the cars are available to be viewed until 8 PM and tons of enthusiasts show up to enjoy the event.  This meant that Parker was up late many a night working on the car.  His buddies George and Andy raced with a 1939 LaSalle.  Anyone that was at our wedding would remember this beauty as she was the car that we left in.  She held her own for the first several nights, but weather and lack of time in the end started to wreak some havoc.  Last night I was texting Parker text and diagrams out of one of his many reference manuals so that he could work on the carbeurator.  

This was the first time that Parker had participated in the Great Race and the first time that he had been away from us for so long a period of time.  By Wednesday, Parker was having a pretty hard time as he watched father and son racing teams and saw little boys playing the cars.  The team was aptly named ‘Benny’s Bunch’ and they wore our shirts, with that beautiful picture of our little dude smiling on the back.  At the end of every day the announcers would say that Benny’s Bunch was racing for a 2 year old boy who loved cars.  That’s the understatement of the year.  Benny was obsessed with cars and was with me at Parker’s shop at least 4-5 times a week, in and out of every vehicle that came through.  

The team was holding their own and doing ok, by mid week they were ranked around the middle of the pack.  Parker started asking Benny for help just around the time that the LaSalle was acting up.  Suddenly, George and Andy’s runs were going smoother and they actually got Aces (I’m not entirely sure what the jargin means, but it’s somewhere along the line of a perfect score) for the day’s times.  The car was smoking and having all sorts of troubles, but they were able to improve upon their times and finished in 24th place overall (out of 100+ entrants), getting 6th place in their class.  It was an emotional week for Parker, but Benny was there, I know he was, there was no place else that kid would rather be.

Last night, for the first time since he passed, Parker dreamed about him.  This had always bugged Parker.  I had dreamed about him within a week and received so much comfort from it.  He held Benny’s hand and all that I can think of is the the sunflower painting.  At today’s finish they announced again about how Benny’s Bunch was racing for a 2 year old that loved cars and a random stranger asked Parker what they were talking about.  So he told her about Benny and turned around to show her his shirt as he started crying.  This woman started crying and just gave Parker the biggest hug.  We have found so much comfort in the love of strangers.  Here was this woman doing for me what I have been dying to do all week and I’m so thankful for her love and support in a time that Parker needed it most.

I never doubt our little guy.  He’s been busy these last few weeks.

 

My Doodle Bug

Over and over people say to me, ‘I don’t know how you do it.  I don’t know what I would do, how I would go on.  You’re so strong.’  While this is said as a compliment, people need to realize that there’s no choice.  I don’t have the option to not be strong, throw in the towel, I have a 5 year old.  There is a little girl that needs me to still be her mother, to take care of her and love her.

I had two children.  Because one is gone, I don’t have the option to shut down and stop living life because I’m grieving.  I lived through that when my own mom passed and my father couldn’t deal with it.  One of the first things that I promised to myself and Parker was that I wasn’t going to disappear, that Darcy would still have me.  This doesn’t make me strong, this makes me a mom.  

For every person that is doubting what they would do in my situation, you would put your children first, period.  After you have to look your 5 year old in the eye and tell her that her brother has died, believe me that you will do everything in your power to make sure that she feels safe and loved.  You would move heaven and earth to make it ‘better’ for the surviving children.  Even on days when I am on the floor in the kitchen crying, I know that if Darcy needed me in that moment, that she would come first.  This doesn’t make me strong, brave maybe.

We’re lucky that we sent Darcy to Kindegarten when we did, otherwise she would have been with us that Friday.  When that thought crosses my mind, I cringe.  I’m thankful that she was safe at school, happily ensconced in pretend play with friends.  I’m fortunate that we have the most amazing neighbors that came in and took charge of her in what could have been a terrible situation when she got home from school.  These are people that responded before we even had a chance to ask them.

We are lucky we have her.  Without her, I don’t know that I would get out of bed every day and put one foot in front of the other.  She is beautiful, outspoken, courageous and brave.  She is my little doodle bug, as tough as they come.  She saves me everyday.  I’m so lucky to have her in my life and that I get to be her mom.  I spend a lot of time missing Benny, but I also spend a lot of time realizing that I have this amazing person in my life.  She gives me so much hope for the future.  She makes me feel lucky to be a mom.  Love you to pieces my doodle bug!Image

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