hope – Page 3 – Sunshine, Angels and Rainbows

The Great Race

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!

Greg Hill Foundation

Tomorrow Tara and I head down to Foxwoods to be a part of the Greg Hill Foundation’s Celebrity Golf Tournament. I have no idea what to expect, but I’m so thankful to have Tara by my side for this adventure. Parker is traveling and it has been a tough couple of nights by myself.

Let me backtrack a little here, because I realize that I have left out a lot of information concerning the Greg Hill Foundation. After the accident occurred, two of our close friends contacted the Greg Hill Foundation which was started by a local DJ to respond to families in need or crisis. Sure, I had heard the on air fundraisers that they held and I remember listening after the Marathon Bombings as they raised a staggering amount of money. I never dreamed that they would be holding a fundraiser for my family.

Exactly a week after the accident, WAAF and the Greg Hill Foundation reached out to their listeners and asked for monetary donations to help my family. They would match the amount raised, up to a certain dollar amount. It was amazing listening to our name, our story on the radio station. One of Parker’s closest friends called to thank Greg and the listeners on our behalf. It was again proof that there are amazing people out there, strangers that were willing to move mountains to make our lives easier. We never asked for any of this, so it was truly humbling to be a part of. A week later, they dropped off a check for us.

In December, the Greg Hill Foundation held their first ever ‘Jingle All the Way 5K.’ It was a perfect opportunity for us to give back to the foundation that had helped us so much. We signed up, and then reached out to our friends, neighbors and family and before we knew it we had pulled together a team of 30+ amazing individuals, ‘Benny’s Bunch.’ It was bitter cold, about 8 degrees, but we walked/run/shivered along in memory of our dude. Darcy walked every single mile and didn’t complain once, she amazed us all. It was an amazing experience and a great way to try to give back to an organization that had done so much for us. The perfect way to pay tribute to Bennett so soon after his death.

In February, we were asked to join fellow beneficiaries in supporting the foundation in their ‘1,350 Days Celebration.’ I never expected to be sharing the stage with Marathon Bombing survivors. Their strength, humility and humor blew me away. That night was probably one of the most amazing nights of my life. We were in a room surrounded by people that had been through the worst possible moments in their life, yet they smiled, and laughed. There was so much love in that room, it reminded me of the 3 Day walk-on steroids! The one word that comes to mind is hope. Hope for the future, watching these people take what life had thrown at them and just do the best that they could with it. There weren’t any victims in that room, only survivors. It was very empowering.

I read my speech and by the end most of the folks in the room were in tears. So many people came up to us and just wanted to hug us and tell us how sorry they were, complete strangers. One of the Marathon bombing survivors wrote us a check to help out. A friend of Greg’s offered his condo in NH for us to use this summer. Again, complete strangers reaching out to offer us a chance to heal. I’m so accustomed to be jaded by life so watching as this whole thing unfolded, I was never so happy to be so wrong. The world is full of beautiful people doing beautiful things. Unfortunately, the news doesn’t cover that aspect, but trust me, it’s so true.

A few members of the Greg Hill Foundation signed up for the marathon and ran this past year as an homage to the survivors. Our friend Erin ran each mile for a different person. She ran mile 2 for Benny. We were waiting on the sidelines in our Benny’s Bunch shirts cheering the GHF team on. The energy of that day was so great and I’m so glad that Darcy again was able to witness someone she doesn’t know doing something amazing for her family. I want for her to grow up and see people as good.

So, onto tomorrow. I’m excited. I’m nervous. I cannot wait to be amongst these people again. To feel that kind of positive energy as everyone works together towards one collective goal-to raise money for people in the future that will need it. The link to the foundation is below should you want additional information or to make a donation.

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Come Sail Away

Seemed an appropriate song given our week. Heard it in a store earlier this week, and just read the lyrics for the first time. There’s so much significance here.

Parallels

I told my therapist today about what happened with the water main. She has told both Parker and I time and again that our situation is not normal, that most people don’t get signs like ours, or have these perfectly orchestrated situations. I agree wholeheartedly, we are truly lucky, blessed even. She was shocked when I told her about Wednesday night.

She is the one person that truly knows exactly what happened the day of the accident. Sure, I’ve talked to Parker about it and he was there before the ambulances, but she knows in pretty good detail what happened. So it was in talking to her today that we realized the parallels between the accident and what happened on November 8th. I was hoping to sleep tonight, but I suppose getting this off my chest was more important.

Seeing the road bubble up, almost come to life made sense to me. Watching the pavement split open and fall into the rushing water seemed logical. The water was washing all physical evidence of that day away for me, it was as if the Earth were cleansing herself. To look at the large gaping wound that was left I felt as if I was looking within myself. I was almost sad to see it filled in and covered up. It was as if the road looked as I have felt since November 8th.

Watching Parker run wildly from the Suburban down Bjorklund brought me back, except this time he wasn’t running to me. I was no longer the one in need. Standing on the corner and around our property and the church looking at the road was eerie. It was so significant, except this time I was on the other side, I was a spectator. Seeing caution tape around our property again, looking at photos in the news of our house and the church, the street, it brought it all back. This time we were on the other side. This wasn’t a catastrophe happening to us.

Running outside and seeing the street pulsing, it was if it was alive. I didn’t see anyone else, so I called 911. I was able to take charge of the situation and inform the authorities. I was able to try to help (I didn’t really do anything) our neighbor as the water started down his lawn. When the press descended upon our house again, I was able to kick them off our property. I might not have been nice about it, but it was what they deserved in my opinion after how they treated us the night my son died. As minute as these details may seem, I was actually able to do something. I didn’t feel helpless. It was almost cathartic. Here I am thrown into another emergency situation right outside my house, except this time, I wasn’t cast as the victim, I wasn’t helpless.

Looking at the situation again, I realized there was a lot more significance than just the physical damage. We made it through this event unscathed, even though it felt like we relived several of the same sights and emotions. I still cannot believe that any of this has truly happened.

Broken

“You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.” ~Anne Lamott

More Sunflowers

I just found this mixed in with Benny’s stuff. My friend Erin’s girls painted these stones for us shortly after Benny passed. What I never noticed was that they had also painted one with a sunflower…more signs.

Our Cemetery Story

It’s time to share another story of weird ‘coincidences,’ of hope, which is quite interesting given the tile of this post. How I ever found hope in a cemetery is very strange indeed.

I never liked cemeteries, the eerie graves, the gates that scream ‘keep out!’ Maybe it’s too many Halloween stories, but I never felt comfortable in one. Even when my mom died, I didn’t find peace visiting her there. It was weird and uncomfortable. Maybe it was just all too real. It just wasn’t me, I didn’t feel her presence there, because I knew that she wasn’t.

Right after the accident happened and we were scrambling to pull together arrangements, our friends Sandy and Mike offered a burial plot for Benny. We hadn’t even wrapped our heads around what we wanted to do yet and the medical examiner hadn’t released Bennett yet. God it sounds so awful to say that, but it’s the truth. About a week or two after the accident we finally had to make a decision and we decided to cremate Benny. I’d never really given much thought to what I would want done with my body when I passed, never mind my 17 month old baby. It was just one more way to draw out having to make a decision, having to bury him, having to deal with the horror of it all. So he became dust and sat at the funeral home for several months.

I knew that I wanted to have him blown into glass, Parker wanted to take him on the Great Race down the East coast, but we had all the time in the world to figure that out now. It was a good breather from the chaos of the first few weeks. I was sitting with the therapist over the winter and talking about the cremation. We had no idea what to do with his remains and for the first time I realized I wanted to bury him. Sure we could scatter him, but where? ‘If I don’t bury him, it will be like he never existed, there will be no headstone, no place where he is physically.’ As I said this, my therapist teared up. I realized how sad that would truly be and that we needed to do something.

We talked about burying him on his birthday and quickly nixed that idea as I realized that we couldn’t explain to Darcy and friends that Benny was in a tiny box. We were having a hard enough time explaining the whole body/soul connection. Tara came over one Sunday to help me paint and we began planning and looking into cemeteries. I felt strongly that Benny was buried in the same place as Sandy and Mike, that they had some claim to him too. They are such a part of our lives, our children’s lives. They are family. So we figured we would start with Worcester County Memorial Park. That’s when Benny started to intervene again.

We started talking about this on Sunday, unbeknownst to Sandy who was meeting with Marie from WCMP on Monday. She had seen her at a home show and had made an appointment. On Monday, I received a text from Sandy saying that Marie would be contacting us. Great, I thought, one less thing to do. We met with Marie on Thursday and sat down to listen to our choices. Marie didn’t know our story, all that she knew was that we lost our son. They have a section at WCMP set aside for babies under 1. She said that they would make an exception and that Benny could be buried there if we wished. To be honest, the thought of even being confronted with a baby cemetery was too much. I was horrified. Given my feeling on cemeteries in general, this wasn’t a good start. We reviewed our options and headed over to the cemetery to take a look. I had it in my head that none of this mattered, I would never go, I hated these places.

On the ride out to Paxton, Parker’s landlord from the shop called. She and I talked for a moment, and then we lost service. I figured we would see her when we got back to the shop. We talked about the idea of the baby cemetery and what we wanted to do. It was an uncomfortable car ride as we both tried to keep it together.

To call WCMP a cemetery is unfair. It is a park as it’s name states. It is separated into gardens and there are no headstones, only monuments, so all that you see are the rolling hills surrounding you. It was absolutely breathtaking and peaceful. There is no fence, you can visit whenever you wish. We drove around, taking it all in and ended up at the office, right in front of the ‘Garden of Angels.’ I was surprised at how peaceful it all felt, how right. I mean it was sad, but not as depressing as I had anticipated. The monuments were decorated with flowers and toys and we looked at this space as something good for Darcy as well. Somewhere she could bring trucks and balls for her lost brother. We knew this was where we belonged in the future, but we left there still needing to think about Benny.

We got back to the shop and stopped in to chat with the landlord. To call her that seems silly, she is one of the nicest, caring people and we have always been friendly. She asked what we were doing in Paxton, because there’s really nothing out that way. Parker said we had some errands to run. Our landlord stopped, thought for a second and looked at us, ‘you were at the cemetery,’ she said, ‘my son is buried in the Garden of Angels.’ She too had lost a baby years ago, but we had no idea that he was there. We looked at each other and decided to take it as a sign that this is where Benny should go.

We bought our future plots and signed all of the paperwork. Part of it felt good to know that it’s all taken care of, that our family won’t have to deal with any of this when the time comes. We hemmed and hawed about Benny’s monument, but WCMP came through and was able to get ‘Captain Crazy’ added above his name. It was very appropriate for our little man. We also had a bear added, our ‘Benny Bear.’ They were putting a rush on the order and were miraculously able to get it in in very short order. We had expected it for May 17th, but were surprised when it was there on May 8th when we buried him.

I was talking to my new friend Sue one day after yoga. I had told her how we had started pulling together arrangements and that we would be burying Benny at WCMP. Sue got the same look as when I told her about the sunflowers. Her son that had passed was buried at WCMP too. This just felt so much like our boys were giving us a sign again. That was without a doubt when I knew that this was where Benny belonged. He wouldn’t be alone, not by a long shot.

When I look back at my post from May 17, this where we started about 6 weeks before. Things just came together and it was if Benny was orchestrating it all for us. I know in my heart of hearts that he has been there guiding us through it all. I would be a fool to take these signs for granted, so I’ll take them for what they are. We’re lucky, blessed that our little man is trying to help us tie up loose ends. I love you little guy.

My Sunflower Story

The weather today makes me feel like writing something positive. After Benny passed there were so many incredible signs from him, signs that he’s ok, that he’s moved on and that he’s being taken care of. I want to share just one of the many stories, but probably the strongest sign that that little guy wants us to know that he’s still with us.

The accident happened on a Friday. Suffice it to say that the first 24 hours were pure hell. I probably could have endured physical torture better than the realization that Bennett was gone. In the chaos that ensued at our house following the news of Benny’s passing, Pastor Aaron came over on Saturday to talk to us and offer his services. He asked me how I was dealing with what I saw. If I had a lifetime, I don’t think that I could describe it, but the flashbacks were intense and brutal. My mind was trying to wrap itself around what had happened. Pastor Aaron gave me a visualization technique to try to make it easier on me in the days ahead. He had me visualize myself sitting in the theater and watching the accident happen on the big screen in the front row. Then he had me move back a row and watch myself watching it, and then back a row, all the way to the back of the theater. Once there, he told me to change the picture to something comforting like a field, or a beach. I chose daisies, they were my mom’s favorite flowers and made the most sense. I did this technique several times throughout the day on Saturday, but something was always weird about the daisies, they kept taking on the look of sunflowers. I kept seeing the brown furry sunflower centers with the sunny yellow petals. I had no connection to sunflowers, but this whole technique seemed to be working, so I went with it. It was amazing how I was able to begin controlling what was torturing me. I told Parker that I kept seeing sunflowers late in the day on Saturday, and thought nothing else of it.

Beginning on Friday night, the community of Worcester began to leave stuffed animals across the street at the church and created a makeshift memorial. It was a lot for me to take in, but we watched as people walked down Chester Street with their children in the cold to leave notes, pictures and stuffed animals. Parker went to check it out Saturday night and came home with a funny look on his face. He said that someone had left a bunch of sunflowers. This was my first sign from Benny. Why sunflowers? That took a little longer to figure out, but I was sure it was my little dude connecting the dots somehow. The night of the memorial the Tuesday after the accident Parker and I were sitting in bed. I suddenly saw a field of sunflowers in my head, Benny was walking holding my moms hand and our dog Mason was trotting alongside. This was not a dream, I was awake. I described what I saw to Parker in detail, how my mother looked (like in one of her school pictures). A week later my aunt (my mom’s sister) called to tell me that she had a dream about Benny and my mom walking through a field holding hands. In that dream my aunt said that my mom looked just like her school picture, the same one that I had said to Parker.

In the first 48 hours we were trying desperately to connect with the folks that had been present during the accident. There were so many people that gave Benny CPR or were in the street with me. I remember screaming to them to save him, it seemed as if forever passed before the EMT’s arrived. I remember the first girl to give Benny CPR, how she cried, how I thanked her and we hugged. She seemed so young, I felt so awful that she had to be involved in our tragedy. At the hospital, we were given a bag with Bennett’s clothing, inside there were ear buds. This confused us at first and we weren’t really thinking too clearly. After the fact we realized that ‘the girl’ must have been jogging by when everything happened. We had been talking to the police and were trying to get in touch with ‘the jogger,’ but no one had her contact information. It was so important to me to see her, to know that she was ok. I don’t remember much from that day, but I remembered her.

Exactly 2 weeks after the accident my next door neighbor came over and told us that she knew who ‘the jogger’ was. She lived less than a mile away and was an aquaintence of her daughter’s. We were ecstatic. My neighbor told me that ‘the jogger’ had lost her teenage brother in a car accident a few miles away about 8 years ago.

Before I had the chance to, the joggers mother reached out to me. Sue sent me a beautiful card, memory light and grieving resources. She explained about losing her son and what she has done to get through it. I e-mailed her instantly. We connected and soon discovered that our boys were sending us some strong signs.

I told her about the sunflowers and she was a bit shocked, her daughter was the one who put them at the memorial after the accident. When her son passed they had sunflowers at the service, and she and her daughter had always connected with sunflowers. Sue said that her daughter definitely felt her brother’s presence in the road during the accident. She had been home from school on a Friday because she skipped class, which she never did. She had just started jogging her normal route down Chester Street when the accident happened. People were screaming, cars were stopped and someone was yelling if anyone knew CPR, that was when she came jogging over and said ‘I do!’ All I could think was that this was Benny’s way of connecting with me, connecting with this other family that had also lost so much.

Sue became an amazing resource for me. She stayed in touch, did yoga with Parker, Sandy and I try to alleviate some of the anxiety and stress that had become so present in our everyday lives. As Sue’s daughter tried to save our son, Sue started to save us. She was over one day and pointed out to me and Parker that there is a huge sunflower poster in our living room. I never gave it much thought, it had been there for 10 years or so. What Sue pointed out was that Benny would have seen that poster every day, would have looked it while nursing, playing, etc. It brought home to me why he chose a sunflower to communicate with us, it was something that he saw every day of his life, something so obvious.

About 3 months after the accident I received a gift basket from the church across the street, it was decorated with daisies and sunflowers, my mom and my son, how appropriate. In it was a book titled ‘Heaven is for real,’ the cover was a picture of a field of sunflowers and a little boy. On Mother’s Day we went to the cemetery to visit with Bennett. There was a mason jar filled with daisies and sunflowers there. We weren’t sure if they were for Benny or his neighbor, but it was clearly a sign for us, Mason, Benny and mom all represented.

A month after the accident my sister Deb talked to her friend Deanne about doing a painting of my vision. Deanne had been painting for years, mostly portraits, and most took 6 months to a year to complete. This would be her first ever landscape. She received photos from my sister and aunt to complete the project and turned it around in under 3 months. I never knew that this was even happening, but when I got it, I was floored, it was exactly what I saw, down the position of Benny, my mom and Mason, the height of the sunflowers (they were small in my vision). I cannot explain how peaceful it made me feel. I knew that Benny was ok, that he wasn’t scared and that my mom would take care of him.

This has made it so much easier, knowing that my boy is ok, knowing that he is being loved very much by some very special people. It’s been easier knowing that Benny put people in our lives who have gone through the same thing and were there to help us. It’s been easier knowing that Benny is still there for us and that he always will be.

Beautiful People

Sent to us by someone that we never met, but has been an amazing new friend during this awful time. Thanks Katie.