Hard times...

There are times in the car when I just start crying and say aloud, to no one, "I miss my son".

Time hasn't healed, yet...

Over the 4 months since Nate was with us, the pain hasn't dulled, if anything it has become more acute.  I am SO aware that his voice and stomping around is not with us.  I get to hear Ani vocalize and laugh, so that makes it better when dealing with what happened to her.  I am aware of just how very long it has been since I have seen Nate, heard Nate, played with Nate and held Nate.  Oh how I miss that smile and sparkle.  I get a little bit of it from the picture on the mantle, but that's bittersweet.  I often see little boys at the church child care area that look like Nate or remind me of him.  It makes me miss how he would press the elevator button to open the doors, or how he would stomp in the puddles, or how we would all walk hand-in-hand out of church.  I have that image in my mind, but I'm afraid that it will fade.  How I wish that we would have taken a picture of us walking together.  Nate loved Ani and Ani loved Nate.  How weak I feel when the reality of Nate in my heart needs some "back-up" by pictures.  Yeah, I know, I'm only human, but my memories of Nate and love for him are about the most important things that I have now that are so difficult to manage.  My feelings of loyalty to Ani and Christy and God are the most important things that I keep close.  Family is so important too.

We are more than we seem

I was just at another funeral today, I was thinking of how I think about Nate and his smile and sparkle in his eyes.  How I thought as I saw his body before the funeral, how much was missing, and how this "vessel" that was in the casket wasn't the entirety of Nate, how he and what he _really_ was is somewhere else.  I literally heard in my head the words of Yoda, from "Return of the Jedi" (yeah, I'm a nerd):  "Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter".

Failed promises...

I had promised Nate that we would ride on a train.  Though I took him to the train museum and he loved it, we never got to take him on a real train.  I feel so bad that I promised him something that I didn't deliver.  Obviously I never thought that I would lose him.  Maybe it feels bad because I, in some way, feel like I failed in my promise to keep him safe.  I know that's a promise that's impossible to fulfill, just like the premise of "Finding Nemo".  Still, I think about those things that we tell our children because they need it, like "I'll always watch over you".  I guess I'm not really beating myself up over the train promise, maybe I just feel sad that I never got to see his smile if we had done it.

Too quiet

Oh, how I miss hearing "Kaka klease" (cracker please), and Ani's singing.  I want to hear Nate's "Da-da" or "Ma-ma" again.  I want my son back.  I want my daughter all the way back.  I want to hear Nate's toddler "stompy walk" on the hardwood floor.  I want to hear him say "Einteins" (for "Little Einsteins").  I can hear him say "Choo-choo" on one of the videos.  I can hear him squeal in the dancing video.  I am so sad.  There's such a huge part of me that's missing.  I want to hear him say "Hand" to get me to come play with him, or "more" to have me cuddle/tickle him more.

To be a kid again

Sometimes I want to be a kid again.  Not for the energy of youth now, but more for the lack of responsibility, for somebody to tell me "It'll be Ok", "I'll watch over you".

A new skill I have to learn

I was at the coffee shop this morning, and I saw a bunch of wild turkeys in the field. I would always point this out to Ani & Nate. Upon reflection, I realized that I need to learn to "un-mute" my internal monologue so that I can more fully describe the world to Ani. She deserves to get information about her world, about things she may not see, just like I would have when she would ask me questions. I cannot EVER treat her like a lump, I need to actively incorporate her into this world. I've started to think about ways I can take her out and let her experience things, even in the state she's in. I've thought about going to the Walker art museum, and just explaining everything I see. I've thought about going to one of the big, old churches like the basillica just for the echoes, since Ani is primarily auditory right now. I need to think of more things to do like this. Put any ideas into the comments.

Ani used to talk about Nate.

I just read in the caringbridge guestbook that Ani would tell stories about Nate at precious lambs (daycare at church). I never knew that. I cry when I think about it. I really, REALLY pray that Ani gets to a level where we can explain about Nate, in a physical and spiritual sense. Not that I really want to tell her about her brother's death, but she deserves to know.

Hope

So, here's what I think about Ani's future, and I'm going to hold on to this:

It's probable that Ani will get better than she is now.

It's possible that Ani will get a lot better than she is now.

It's not impossible that Ani will get dramatically close to where she was before.

I can hang on to the first two, and pray for miracles to satisfy the last one.

My birthday today

So, it's my birthday today.  Now, more than ever before, I can say that what I really want for my birthday doesn't consist of "stuff", or material items.  Those things are fun, but they don't really have any touch on my heart.  Not that they did before, but things that touch my heart are much more prominent now.  Family, friends, my loved ones, those are the things that touch me.  What I really want for my birthday, down to the depths of my soul, is for God to quickly heed and grant my prayers of healing for Ani.  My birthday wish is that I can have dreams for Ani that include some minimal level of independence eventually, her eyesight returned, her singing returned, her mind and creativity returned.

Nite-nite Nate-Nate

We still say goodnight to Nate every night.  It's a very tearful experience, but here's what I say.

Sleep well my precious son, may God watch over and protect you while you sleep, and may he soothe you through your nighttime troubles and keep you until we can be with you again.  I love you Nate, and I miss you very much.  Hug, kiss (make a smack sound like Nate would when kissing).  Nite-nite Nate-Nate.  "Nite-nite Da-Da" (I say this for him, but I can hear it clearly in my head in his voice).

Where's the balance?

I just watched some of the "Dancin' in the kitchen" video I have of Ani, Nate & I dancing in the kitchen.  I find absolution in the size of Nate's smile, his joyful squeals, and the totally trusting way Nate and Ani hold my hand to dance.  I've remarked before to others how awesome the responsibility is, of being a parent, when my children have looked up into my eyes.

What is the balance of accepting Nate as no longer being with us vs. allowing myself to temporarily "forget" our situation by losing myself in things like reading, blogging, video games?  How do I stop feeling guilty for taking small diversions to take my mind off of the enormity of our situation?  I can't go through life always meditating on how Nate is no longer here, that's not fair to those who "need me to be here".  I also can't bear the thought of forgetting the least little thing about Nate (or Ani's previous life).

Test of mobli posting

Testing whether the email setting are right.

Sent from my iPhone

Journal entry 9/12/08

You know how your heart is expanded when you are blessed with a child?  I think my heart has been expanded for my fellow humans a little bit.  I feel it's easier to feel genuine emotion for those about me.  Also, it's easier to express emotion for them too.  However, at the same time, it's more difficult to hold myself back from the dark abyss of my grief of Nate and Ani.  This is weird, do I express my sadness for Ani's losses as grief?

Journal entry 8/31/08

It kinda hurt to check Ani into church today.  I say "0612" (the last 4 digits of our phone number) "Annika", but there's the "and Nathaniel" that just cries to come out.  I have to choke it back, and it's a painful lump in my throat.

Journal entry 8/29/08

Babies,

Now, when I see little babies, I smile.  I smile because I can see the hand of God in an infant.  I don't know why I couldn't before.

Pray for me.

Pray for me.  Pray for God to give me strength.  Pray he gives me wisdom and discernment.  Pray that I can show love more easily to everybody.  Pray to give me hope that conquers my fears, doubts and weaknesses.

Journal entry 8/29/08

Nate is still SO REAL within me.  It takes no effort to just pretend he's in the other room or just hiding behind me.

Journal entry 8/29/08, Ani's nighttime prayer

Sleep well my precious daughter.  May God watch over you, protect you, heal you, strengthen you and give you courage, and may he soothe you through your nighttime troubles.  I love you Ani.  I am so proud of you Ani for your hard work and every day you are getting a little better.

Journal entry 8/29/08

I can still feel the weight of Nate's arms when he would hug me.  I can still feel Ani's bear hug.  I wouldn't mind a little "strangling" by my little girl right now.

Journal entry 8/29/08

It's selfish, but I want to hear "I love you daddy" or "Nite-nite da-da".  I may be able to hear the first one with earthly ears again, but not the second.  I'm trying to avoid defining myself with sadness and loss, but when something colors your entire perception, it's hard to avoid.

Journal entry 8/29/08

Know what?

You can't bring anyone back by gritting your teeth hard, by crying, by getting angry, by being scared.  Know what else?  You can't stop trying to bring them back.

Journal entry 8/28/08

My perfect life...gone.

How was it perfect?

It wasn't money.

It wasn't power.

It wasn't cars.

It was giving my love to a little boy, a little girl and my wife.  I can still give my love to my wife and little girl, but what do I do with the infinite love that's left over?  The one earmarked for my little boy that God gave me?  Even if we have another child, God will still give me another endless pool of love to give that that child.  I used to tell my wife, at night when we held hands, that I was living my dream life.

Journal entry 8/28/2008

Sometimes the world seems so dull and colorless.

Like it's a veneer,

like the only things that are real are the depths of emotions that we share with each other.

Old journal entry 8/25/08

I've just realized that it's becoming harder and harder to remember how Ani looked like when she danced.  How she sounded when she wanted more time at bedtime.  I can remember Nate's voice for certain things, but seeing Ani like she is for the last 3 months is blurring my "before time" memories of Ani.

Speech today

Here's a speech I gave at a golf-tournament fundraiser put on by my coworkers today.  It's not that I don't want help, I just rail against the circumstances that put me in the situation.

As I stand here, it feels harder than standing in front of a design review with Navy brass and Boeing.  Maybe that's because I'm now speaking for my flesh and blood instead of CSCIs.  First off, I want all of you to know how much it means to us to have received your prayers, well wishes, visits & donations.  I am bouyed up by your show of support today.  Please know that you are providing for my daughter's future and current care.  She is currently mostly immobile, but is starting to show signs of intentional movement.  She is also showing signs of her personality coming out.  She will cry when she's sad or in pain, and is quick to smile & laugh when we hold her, tell her jokes, or she sees her favorite characters in movies or TV.  Any quote from "Finding Nemo" will get her laughing.  She is also showing us that she desparately wants to talk with us.  We have noticed that the "spark of awareness" in her eyesis now more evident than before, and her "cognitive breaks" are occurring less and less often.  She is attending kindergarden now, and is enjoying being with the other kids.  It was a rocky start, but she is getting used to the bus ride now.  While her future is uncertain, we are hopeful and will remain dedicated to her physical, emotional and spiritual care.  We are progressing in our quest for our new home and hope to be in it sometime in January.  Again, thank you so much for your support, believe me, it helps keep us going so much.

Grief lingers

Grief,

You can forget it,

and it stays.

You can deny it,

and it stays.

You can accept it,

and it stays.

You can pretend,

and it stays,

You can bargain with it,

and it stays.

It's like a terminal cancer that keeps eating at you until the day you die.  Then, it's meaningless, because you're with the one you lost.

Tears

There's always tears,

it's just sometimes I don't cry them.

Conflict

Grief,

It's a conflict.

Between what?

Between the reality your heart feels,

and the reality of an emptiness beside you.

Fear

Sometimes when I go places where Ani, Nate & I would go together, I'm afraid someone will ask me where my son or daughter are.

Old journal entry

Oh Nate, I think that when I'm 80, and you should have been 38, I'll still be looking to see if you're running around or between my legs.

8/10/08

Old journal poem

O Ani,

As I try to look into your future,

I get the feeling that you'll surpass yourself in some ways,

and lose ground in other ways.

I will be amazed and proud at your achievements...

And I will be proud to serve you when you need help.

That's what daddies are for.

T-shirt

Sometimes I want to get a t-shirt that says "I'm way sadder than I look".

Sadness

Sometimes I'm so sad I can't even cry.

Scars

The scars on my body may never fade,

but everyone can see them.

The scars inside will also never fade,

but only I can see them.

Old journal post

I have never sought fame, never notoriety, but if some of the news coverages cause 1 more person to pray for Ani, then it's all good.

Old journal post

Having had Nate with us for 2.5 years is kind of like the "It is better to have loved and lost than never having loved at all".  I am SO much richer in all ways after having been Nate's father.

Journal poem

O my son Nate,

I had so much to teach you.

O my son Nate,

I had so much to learn from you.

O my son Nate,

you filled a void I didn't know I had.

O my son Nate,

I miss you more than I could possibly have imagined.

8/4/08

Old journal post

8/4/08

Violation

To be powerless to stop my two most precious beings from being hurt,

I feel violated.  To have such a void in my life, I feel violated.  To see my daughter work so hard just for getting nourishment, I feel violated.

Journal post

7/31/08

Now that Ani is capable of smiling and laughing, I find that when I think of it in the car, I can smile.  Then I feel a twinge of guilt because I'm smiling and Nate isn't here, so why am I smiling?

My grief

Journal poem:

My grief is a snake,

curled up, hidden inside.

Waiting to strike...

Waiting to crush...

It doesn't kill,

though it might be easier if it did.

It only releases when you're about to suffocate.

Then it crushes again.

It hides & releases when you acknowledge it,

waiting to strike again

when you've forgotten it for awhile.

7/30/08

Dreams, dreams everywhere, but not a drop to drink

I am coming to accept the fact that my dreams for my son will never be fulfilled. What I'm trying to hold on to is that where he is right now, he understands love more fully than I do. He understands how much I loved him on earth, and how much I love him right now. When he was here, his limited human perception gave him his childlike viewpoint on love, but now his perception is expanded. I pray that he understands now that even when I gave him "timeouts", or when I yelled at him to not bite his sister, that I still loved him with the fullest expanse of my heart.

The more difficult, in a different way, situation to deal with are my dreams for Ani. I haven't found an answer for how you rationalize the "pray for the best and plan for the worst" when it comes to dreaming dreams. Or how it comes to accepting Ani as she is right now. I pray that Ani will be healed to some extent, and I believe this to be true, but I don't know the extent. I'm struggling with how to remember Ani as she was without letting that affect my life with how she _is_. At least before the injury, I fairly well understood how life would progress for Ani. I need dreams and plans to look forward to, to work towards. I won't accept that Ani & I need to just cruise through life. I find that I need to craft dreams that are at once achievable, and others that are couched in the viewpoint of "not impossible". I need to be OK with dreams that are "not impossible", even if they may be "improbable".

Disaster strikes

On May 25th, a tornado ripped through Hugo. My family and I were caught on the main floor, trying to get to the basement when the tornado hit our house. The house was pushed off its foundation, and collapsed around us. My 2.5 year old son Nathaniel was killed, and my other child, my 5 year old daughter Annika was left with a serious brain injury due to lack of oxygen to her brain. Where this blog was originally intended to be light-hearted about being a dad and gaming will still be about being a dad, but one who has lost so much. I have lost my beloved son, and I am diminished greatly by this. I have also lost the interactive and vibrant parts of my daughter, who I adore, and she is left with a very difficult life ahead. This blog will contain some of my poetry I have written as a result of our tragedy, prayers, requests for prayers, and some blogging about how I am getting through each day.
Apologies in advance if I elicit tears from readers, rest assured that this keyboard is also wet with tears.