Birthday Stones

Nobody gives you a guidebook in grief for how to handle holidays, anniversaries or birthdays.

One of the biggest fears, as parents of loss, is that our child will be forgotten. Celebratory milestones magnify that. While you want your child remembered, it's necessary to tiptoe to the occasion in case the pain is too much.

In the past nine years, we've recognized Austin on his birthday in many different ways. None of those years were ever really planned, I just let it be. For a natural born organizer, that's difficult to do but grief changes what is and used to be. Instead, I've let God and Austin guide us through the day.

Landmark birthdays have been the hardest for us...16, 18, 21. Most of the time, Austin is forever 14 but birthdays push us to realize how much time has passed and imagine who he might've been.

His 23^rd was yesterday so I knew it would be special. 23 was Austin's favorite number. His first baseball jersey adorned that number and it just stuck. Through the years, he's used 23 to send us sweet signs to let us know he was there.

But the symbolism also put pressure on how we could remember him. Everyone handles grief differently and truly you never know how a certain day will hit you – until it does. Because of this, I never make definite plans in case one of the three of us can't commit.

Sadly, other than Austin's 16^th birthday, we've never included other family in his day. Most years, I don't even hear from the majority of them. Maybe it's too hard for them too, or maybe they've just forgotten. While that hurts, my focus moves to my three guys – my husband and sons, one towering over me and one watching from above.

A few days ago, the inspiration came to paint rocks in Austin's memory. Rock painting and hunting has become a recent fad for kids to do at local parks. Our county even has a Facebook page where people can post pics of hints or tag the found rock before rehiding. Knowing how much my boy loved rocks, this seemed like a beautiful way to remember him.

I spent Friday afternoon surrounded by stones and art supplies. With each stroke and swish, my stress seemed to brush away. It's been too long since I've painted and I realized how much it was missed. Creating is therapeutic. I may have found a new hobby.

Saturday the guys agreed to help me hide. We decided to focus on the parks where Austin played ball. Driving down memory lane, we recalled funny moments at the field. Baseball and rocks were two of Austin's passions. His spirit filled the car and every mile of our day.

                   

 

Watching three adults pull into a park, run and play around, searching for the perfect spots to hide, even playing on the equipment probably doesn't look like grief to an outsider. We laughed and enjoyed the day without guilt. We talked about Austin without tears.

Nine years of loss is a place we never expected to be but it's given us permission to grieve out loud. Sometimes grief is uncontrollable sobs and sometimes it is the sweet sound of laughter.

Pulling into the driveway, eight parks and many miles later, I glanced at the clock on the dash and felt Austin's hug. 2:30 pm. A beautiful birthday, indeed.

Day 8: Austin's Birthday

On some level, I'm sure that this joyful challenge for July came because my heart knew of this upcoming date.

Time heals but it also makes the heart ache more for missing someone gone so long.  Our oldest left this earth at the too-young age of 14, so it is unfathomable that at this point he would be grown.  

Today Austin would be 22.  

My mind can't even stretch fully around that knowledge.  I see him in the grown-up schoolmates we cross paths with and those we're still connected to.  

Even Noah has come to realization how old his big brother would really now be.  He sees it in their neighbor-pal, who is now a married adult with a baby and another on the way.

In my mind, they should still all be piled up in Austin's playing video games.  Or camping out in the backyard.  Or scaring each other with spooky stories and wild imaginations in the shed, known as their clubhouse.  

Our world stopped at that sweet in between age of boy and man.  So it is difficult to imagine him at the stage of college graduate, working adult, potentially husband or father.

That's a world we will never get to know.

And so today especially, joy can be hard to find.  This is a day where we ponder on missed joys.  Of what could have been, the what if's and if only's.  On his birthday those thoughts are impossible to push away.

Joy after loss is so very difficult and I've found it can truly only come from God.  It's the only answer for why I'm still standing, even on days I feel like crumbling into the floor.

Though I still miss him with every fiber of my soul and went to bed sobbing last night, I am at a place where I can find joy in the memory of him.  Hearing someone speak his name no longer makes my eyes twinge with tears.  I can laugh about funny stories of Austin and share remember whens.  And I can be in a moment thinking either how much Austin would enjoy it or knowing he'd be proud looking down.

So on his birthday, my joys come from the memories we have of Austin.

Of recalling birthdays past and how much he loved a party, because he relished any time he could spend with family.  Every year his request was the same - cookout in the backyard, surrounded by those he loved.  How I miss that smile, his booming laugh and those giant bear hugs.

Happy Birthday in Heaven, sweet boy.  You brought more joy to our lives than you'll ever know.

In my job I see babies and toddlers at their homes.  The past two days, I can't describe the joys they've brought me.  I've always said, and I tell the mommas I visit, that babies have a sixth sense.  They pick up on emotions even when we think we're doing a good job of hiding them.  Every single baby I've visited in the past 24 hours has reacted to me in a way of which I can only describe as God-sent hugs.

Some that are normally shy have run right up to me, arms open wide, wanting me to pick them up.  Others have bounced right over.  All have wrapped their arms around my neck, laid their sweet heads on my shoulder and patted my back.

Thank you, Lord, for sending a little piece of Heaven my way on days I need it most.


If you're new, you can visit Austin's blog for birthday stories from the 14 years we were blessed to have him here.  

Signs and Milestones

Yesterday was tough.  A bite your lip, distract yourself, get through the day kind of day.

It was busy at work, which was helpful in some ways, but a big piece of my heart and mind were elsewhere.  A day spent teetering on tears - misty on the way to work, praying throughout, and sobbing the moment I walked out the door and got into my car.

Driving home, I ended up at the cemetery.  Not a place I normally find comfort, but I needed somewhere to cry in peace.  And I knew I could do it beside my sweet boy.

July 8 would've been Austin's 21st birthday.

It was harder than I expected.  Not that any birthday, or holiday (or any day) is easy after losing a child.  But some of his birthdays have actually been unexpected blessings, like last year.

So, unlike the early years, I didn't schedule off and expected that I'd make it through ok.  In this walk with grief though, I've learned there is no time limit on the pain and you can never plan or expect, it takes you where it will, when it wants.

Sure, there were signs, as always.  More yellow butterflies than I could count, darting in and around my car wherever I went.  Many dancing around his grave.  My radio is never off and every time I got back in, whatever song was playing seemed to be a hello from above or a needed hug.

Still, I had a job to do, so I stored up and pushed away so much pain that by the end of the day exhaustion set in.  Tim saw it, felt it himself I'm sure, but stepped up last night and took over roles I normally fulfill.  He cooked us a small and simple dinner and went to get the kids from church.  We called it an early night and thanks to prayers of many, fell into a deep and restful sleep.

Yesterday, I think I grieved what I lost, what I never had, and where I would be at this point.  It was coming to terms with not having a child anymore and the realization that, if he were here, he wouldn't be a child anymore either.  I just didn't have the past seven years to watch him mature into the man he would be now.

Seeing his baby brother, Noah, towering over us, watching the days fly by on the calendar as he counts down to his own milestones, like driving, makes me want to push in the brakes even more.  I want to fully saturate myself in them - with him.  I don't want to miss a moment.  Maybe because I know how precious and unpromised they are.

And of course, just like his big brother, Noah has a heart of gold.  My gentle giant, I call him.  Dropping them off to church I ensured he had enough money for the snow cone, where youth were gathered.  He smiled and said, "21 and some change."  I knew what he was doing and prayers were sent up all the way home that he'd get a blessing from it.

Getting there early, as they prefer, he walked up to booth before the line wrapped the corner and "Paid it Fwd" for Austin.  $21 in memory of his 21st.  Noah waited an hour before he got in line, hoping that the fwd would last enough for most who'd arrived.  He was hugged from above to find out others had continued to pay it forward and his was also free.  This morning I received a sweet text from the owner saying it gave her chills and many were touched by the night.

Noah and I laughed later that it would've been just like Austin too.  Never one to like alcohol, he would've preferred to ring in his 21st with a giant snow cone to celebrate his big day.  Fitting the name of the place is Paradise, since we know that's where he is.

Here's one for you, Bub, swirled with lots of love.  

Linked with #DanceWithJesus

Goosebumps at the Ballpark

Celebrating someone’s birthday once they're gone is a bittersweet and often difficult thing to do.  Your heart doesn’t always feel like rejoicing when it is feeling the weight of the loss.  Especially when it is your child.

Austin’s birthdays have varied since losing him.  The first, after he passed, we spent the day away from the house, just the three of us, and planted a memorial tree in our backyard.  What would’ve been his 16th, we had family over, a gathering just like he always loved.  In other years we’ve sent balloon letters up to him or floated sky lanterns in his memory. Most have been somewhat somber and heavy.

Yesterday was his 6th birthday gone.

I hadn’t planned anything leading up to it, figuring I’d let our emotions dictate what we did to remember him.  And then Tim called one afternoon telling me he’d won tickets to a ballgame.  We both teared up once realizing the date.  July 8th - Austin’s birthday.

Baseball and Austin went together like peanut butter & jelly.  They just fit.  

From the time he was tall enough to hit off a T, a passion was sparked.  Spring to summer our family spent our days (and nights) at the ballpark.  Once he grew old enough to enjoy watching it on TV, he was hooked even more.  Bats and gloves littered my house, so much so that we still keep one of Austin’s bats by our front door.

One of our favorite things to do as a family was go to a minor league ballgame.  At one particular park, they had fans come to the field in between innings to play games.  Without fail, Austin would always get picked. He won pizzas, gift cards, and shirts, including one of his beloved Ts that is now included in a quilt on the back of our couch.

When he passed, it was hard for us to love baseball again.  For awhile, it hurt too much being on the field.  In fact, Noah even stepped away from the sport for a couple years, coming back just in time before he aged out.  Last night, sitting behind the home plate, we all realized again how much we missed it.  The Blairs just need baseball!

As if winning tickets to the game on his birthday weren’t enough of hug, 
as always, our boy came through in very big ways.

The weather report was plain ick for the day, actually calling for hail storms and torrential winds.  I was worried it would be so bad that we couldn’t even drive the hour to the field, as the timing called for it to hit late afternoon.  While at work and driving around, I sent up a little prayer that we might have a rain free evening to enjoy the game and remember Austin.  God delivered big time…

Checking the weather again later, I noticed the 85% chance had disappeared to 0% and the hour by hour only included a very small chance of rain, way into the evening.  Wonderful!  We arrived to sunny skies and high 80s in July – picture perfect.  In fact, it wasn’t until we got home late last night and headed to bed that I heard the rain hit.

Getting to our seats (which were amazing  - 2nd row, right behind the plate), our family was met by the park photographer, offering to take a group shot.  Asking about our shirts, Noah shared his brother’s love for the game.  Before he walked away, the guy tossed him a ball to have as a souvenir.    And later he caught a fan shirt during a toss out.  His big brother was certainly shining down on him.

Settling in with an array of fried goodies on our laps, I look up to another goose bump moment.

For the first pitch, the catcher bent in front of us in a blue jersey with #23 printed in bold white – Austin’s number.  Every year he ever played, #23 was Austin’s jersey and even before he passed it was a special number for our family.  Since he’s been gone he uses it to send us hugs and this was just about one of the best ever.  It was all I could do to keep from bursting into tears.

Such a special moment!

The rest of the night continued to be a home run.  We felt Austin’s spirit with each swirling of dust and ping from the bat.  All of us shared memories and stories of baseball days and family trips to games. Things we loved (and missed) about him.  It truly was a celebration of Austin’s life.

Not a feeling we’re quite used to on this grief journey, but one I’m grateful for.

Happy 20th birthday in Heaven, Bub.  

Thanks for the hugs from above.

Five Birthdays Gone.

19...

I have no place card for this.  Nothing to compare it against, except for Austin's friends that we see now grown, in college, and starting new lives.

Austin would be 19 today. 

Seems unreal on every level.  That we'd have a college-age son now. 
That instead of celebrating, we can only spend the day remembering.
....and longing for what could've been.

He's been gone from this world nearly five years.  Five birthdays gone.

My momma-heart can so easily become broken again this time of year.  I can drown in the what if's and where-he'd-be-todays.  My faith has me clinging to what I know. 

And prayers have me held.  Beautiful friends who bless me with prayers.

As I finish this post, the post I've started and stopped for the past week, on this birthday, I wonder how I'm holding it together.  How I'm not crazy-mad.  Because my heart tells me I should be.  Beloved prayers, peace in knowing, and my faithful Heavenly Father are the only explanations for why I'm not.

For those of you just at the tip of this grief path, there's comfort here.  It does get better, even on a bittersweet difficult day like today.

The pain is always there, lingering, but not the raw, not the ugly pain from the beginning.  It does get easier, but just as the love for your child never ends, missing-them-pain remains.  What's different is that hearing Austin's name now brings a smile, instead of the wellspring of tears that used to come. 

 

I can now hear look at photos, hear "Austin stories," and recall those beloved memories with fondness and appreciation for the moments we shared. 

And with HOPE, I hold on...

until we meet on that beautiful shore someday.

I wrote this letter to Austin last year, for the milestone 18th birthday. 

So much of it still rings true - If you were here today...

Happy Birthday, sweet boy.  Love you BIG and miss you so.

If You Were Here...

To My Son, Austin -

If you were here today, I'd wish you a Happy Birthday and tear up thinking how quickly you grew up.  No more Momma's Little Blair Bear, but a young man.

If you were here today, I'd stand tiptoe to reach my arms around your neck and squeeze you back with one those famous Bear hugs you were known for.

If you were here today, I'd cook all your favorite foods from breakfast to dinner.  From cheesy eggs to special buttered toast all the way to shrimp and hot potato salad.  We finish it off with a strawberry cheesequake ice cream cake from DQ.

If you were here today, I'd take lots of pictures, even though you'd try to look away, and we'd comment how much you've changed.  I'd drag out the baby books and photo albums and we'd laugh about past memories.

If you were here today, Dad would have his talk with you about becoming a man.  It would be a collection of all the mini stories and lessons he'd of told you in previous years.

If you were here today, Noah would be your shadow, soaking up your company before you left for college.  Maybe you'd have a sleepover together in your room for old times, having a marathon Xbox challenge.

If you were here today, we'd pretend to surprise you with a party.  You would've asked to open your presents thirty seven times and I probably would've caved in on a few. 

If you were here today, you'd pace the floor checking the time, eventually taking your spot by the door to greet everyone as they arrived.

If you were here today, the house would be filled with your deep laughter and contagious smile.  Your eyes would be sparkling, loving being surrounded by family and friends.

If you were here today, I would be weepy, sad that my baby was all grown.  Already dreading sending you away to school but trying to forget that - just for today.  I'd try to be brave but you would've rested your head on my shoulders, knowing the pain I tried to hide, and wanting to take it away.

If you were here today, you'd have hugged me a dozen times, thanking me, reassuring me you won't forget to call, telling me you love me.

If you were here today, I'd kiss your cheek and look into those brown puppy dog eyes and tell you I love you.  And mean it with every fiber of my soul.

Happy 18th Birthday, sweet boy.  We all love and miss you so...

Remembering Austin's Birthdays...

In honor of Austin's 18th Birthday, I'm attaching links,

mostly to Austin's memorial blog, which covers every birthday 1-14,

as well as how we've celebrated his life since he's been gone.

1st Birthday

Our Blair Bear

2nd

Barney-rama

3rd

Lil Big Boy

4th

The Jeep

5th

Scooby Doo...and Tarzan too

6th

RiDQlously Sweet

7th

Backyard BBQ

8th

Old Fashioned Picnic

9th

Family First

10th

double digits

11th

2005...trials & transformations

12th

the year of 2 parties

13th

Big Sexy

14th

Our last

Happy Birthday in Heaven - 15th

It’s hard to imagine that you're not here with us on your special day.

We’re still trying to cope with why God took you away.

But some things just aren’t meant for us to understand.

So we’ll focus on our memories of you and know it is God’s plan.

You were so special and your life was such a gift to us each year.

We hope you know how much we truly loved you, dear.

Fifteen years ago, you came into our lives and filled each day with laughter and joy.

We are so proud to call you “Son” – you were a terrific boy!

So quickly you grew from a baby, to boy, to young man, growing taller each day.

We loved to watch you excel in school and to cheer you on in the sports you’d play.

We were honored to see you lend a helping hand, whenever you saw a need.

A caring big brother, mentor, fundraiser and junior firefighter – you did so many good deeds!

Life isn’t the same without you here; we miss you with every beat of our hearts.

It is hard not having you with us and being so far apart.

But we feel your presence daily and see you smiling down from Heaven above.

You continue to inspire, to touch so many, we all can feel your love.

Your life was a legacy,

and to keep your memory alive we will proudly share your story.

We know you’re spending this birthday in Heaven

and you deserve that honor and glory.

We hope God knows how special an angel he’s chosen in bringing you there.

Happy 15th Birthday, Austin. We love and miss you, “Blair Bear”.

Bittersweet 16

17th

Heart Hugs from Heaven

Happy 18th sweet boy...

we love and miss you with every breath.

Faithful Friday: Heavenly Birthday

On Sunday, July 8, my firstborn would've been celebrating his 18th birthday.  18 years.  All grown up. 

Yet, for us, Austin will eternally always be only 14.  We will never know how tall he may have been.  Or how his looks and voice would have changed.  For us, he'll always be that simply sweet, innocent age of fourteen.  That delicate time between being a child and a man.

It's a difficult time for this momma.  I so much want to be planning the biggest birthday party ever for my special guy.  My tear-stained eyes and heavy heart sometimes wonder if we're strong enough to get through the next few days.  How do you carry on when a piece of your soul is no longer with you?

When I said, “My foot is slipping, ”

your love, O Lord, supported me.  - Psalm 94:18

In search of what would've been Austin's birthday scripture, I landed at the verse above.  1994 was his birth year, and on Sunday, he would be 18.  Psalm 94:18.  Yes, that is how we have survived this.

The past three and a half years have been unimaginable.  The pain often unbearable.  But when I couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't cope, was in complete despair, the ONLY thing that got me through was God.  Even when I didn't want Him.  When I was mad at Him - for taking my firstborn.  He was there.  Each time I slipped, stumbled, fell...He was there.  On the days I couldn't do it.  He could.  And did.

Searching for Austin's birthday verse wasn't easy.  7.8.94  There isn't a Psalm 78:94.  Other variations took me to scripture that, well, didn't speak to me.  I added up the year 1994.  Instantly I remembered it was in fact Austin's favorite number, 23.  He'd discovered that years ago as we were both watching the movie 23, and then realized Noah wearing his jersey, the back displaying 23.  Goosebump moment.

And I thought, how fitting.  Probably the most known Psalm of the Bible.  Maybe the most known verses period.  I read through them again, memory skipping ahead of my eyes. 

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures,

he leads me beside quiet waters,

he restores my soul.

He guides me in paths of righteousness

for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk

through the valley of the shadow of death,[a]

I will fear no evil,

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff,

they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies.

You anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and love will follow me

all the days of my life,

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord

forever.

They landed to the last verse. 

So much comfort in this Psalm, especially in this last sentence.  Though the earthly arms of this momma long to reach up and hug Austin's neck on Sunday, to wish him a Happy 18th Birthday, my heart and soul are comforted with this knowledge.  And the 23 Psalm will now have an even deeper special meaning to me.

Happy Heavenly Birthday, sweet boy. 
Thank you for leading me to these scriptures today.

Keep smiling down on us.  Love you Big.

Happy Birthday in Heaven

It's hard to imagine my little guy would've been 17 today.  ...Harder still knowing he's not here to celebrate the special day with us.

Seems like only yesterday we were bringing that tiny bundle of joy home for the first time.  He was wrapped in a yellow afghan (even in July) because his Mamaw June had made it for him.  In the blink of an eye, we were celebrating his 1st birthday.  Austin continued to fill our life with happiness and love...all the way through to his last birthday with us, #14. 
(You can read about each birthday at his blog from any of these links)

Today, he would be a nearly grown young man.  Looking down on us, because he's surely be over 6 ft by now, I can imagine how handsome he would be.  Today would be filled with his favorites, as we'd celebrate a simple night together, just the four of us.  I'd make his favorite meal, which would include grilling kabobs and hot potato salad, complete with strawberry cheesecake Blizzard cake from DQ.  Tomorrow would be a large gathering with family and friends in our backyard, where Austin chose to have so many of his birthday parties.  ....if only.

This link will take you to a Birthday Slideshow through the years with our special boy.

Happy 17th Birthday in Heaven, Austin. We love and miss you...

Celebrating Austin

If Austin were here, today would kickoff "Birthday Fest" and start the week-long planning to celebrate his special day.  Next Friday, July 8, Austin would've turned 17.   Austin always chose to have his birthday parties at home, with a backyard full of family and friends.  We'd grill out, play yard games, and just have a great day-long adventure together.  Austin would be in the center of it all, grinning from ear to ear, and soaking up every family-filled moment.  This is a "milestone year" and a rough one to get through, as so many special moments we will now miss. 

Austin would've been a senior this year...he would've been driving by now...and this would've been his last year home as a "kid".  The "would've/could've moments" can spiral a parent right back to the level of grief they felt in those first moments of loss.  And although it would be easy to do, I choose to celebrate who Austin was, not who he'd be today.

Our time on this earth is never enough with those we love.  We often wish for just one more day, one more moment with them.  While I'd give anything to still have him here, I'm grateful for the 14 years God blessed me with.  Austin was a precious and loving spirit from the very beginning and I will forever share his story.  In honor of his birthday week, I'll be posting favorite memories and posts from his blog.  Please take a moment to share how Austin touched your life too...whether you knew him in this life or will know him in the next.  Those memories and stories are like gifts to me...each sentence a present to my soul.

 Austin's 1st Birthday