My August Rush

   Well, hello old friend. It's been a long time since I last brought my thoughts to paper (so to speak). It takes a lot of emotional reflection to compose what I feel inside, but what a helpful outlet this blog has been when I've needed it. 

   It's August again - and with it, a milestone no parent wants. An entire decade. How's that even possible - and yet it seems a million years since I last heard your voice or touched your face. So much has changed. So much has happened. And you should be here for it all...

   What's happened for the Lewis's is that we recently moved. We'd decided it was finally time to a couple years ago, but we had to wait on the land to open up where we wanted to go. It seems it was worth the wait (except for interest rates), and I definitely feel God's hand was on the entire process. The move went smoothly. God led me right to our GREAT realtor (now friend), sold our house in first weekend, got over asking price and had a "perfect" inspection! We now have an amazing builder and couldn't be more pleased. We had a little snafu with the land we originally purchased but it worked out in our favor and the new lot ended up being the exact size we had budgeted for. Totally a God thing.

   Moving didn't come without a lot of tears and emotion. I found new nuggets from Sydni's life and upbringing, mostly on paper, and pondered over memories of precious things of hers. She was definitely organized! I'm amazed at how many biblical notes she took, either in Sunday School, on mission trips or during church activities. It's apparent how much she loved the Lord and sought to follow Christ. She was also a great writer and artist! I cherish her drawings. The writings are difficult for me - makes my stomach knot up. Idk. We'll try reading them another day.

   I let go of some things. We had already re-homed her American Girl dolls and desk, and decided it was time to let go of her "big girl" twin canopy bed that had been preserved in the attic along with her dressers. It was hard of course. I didn't like seeing them there, stacked against the wall, waiting to be picked up. So much love - so much pain. I managed to purge a lot but there's still so much left. I'd saved so many treasures from when she was a baby on up - with the thought she'd love to see or have those things someday when she started her own family. I think my Grammie instilled that in me. She was always diligent to write on backs of every picture she had, who was in the photo, what the moment represented, and the date. Every little gift she gave was dated as well, and always included a bible verse and her love. xo

   I'm relieved to be away from our home we shared with Sydni. I feel I have more choice over how I grieve going forward. It hasn't made me think of her less, but I don't have to breathe, in the space and sorrow of what happened. I don't know if I'll ever be "happy" we left, but at least for now, my emotion is relief - or maybe I still find it hard to use that word happy? Happy = forgotten.

   The emotions of sadness have shifted over the last year or so. I don't "live" in the grief anymore, but the peaks of grief can be strong and debilitating when they come. There weren't as many highs and lows before, I just was the grief. I try and flee the waves of strong emotions when they hit. I feel I'm in a kind of survival mode. I can't continue the way I was. It's unsustainable. I forget how many stages of grief they say there are, but I'd say there's a million - and counting...

   Overall, I'd give us a grade of good. We're doing good - and that's better than okay. Landon will start his sophomore year at A&M, Lyn's still pluggin' away at work and I'm busy with house stuff. I'm looking forward to finding ways to sprinkle some Sydni-ness into our new place. I'll definitely be writing scriptures above doorways and may tuck a few mementos in the walls. She'll be a part of us to my last breath, here, and beyond.

My heart aches. My tears fall. I miss her always. I love her so......

Ah, SydniDrew, it's been so long since I've written you. I don't even know where to start. Landon is going to college - A&M even _ just like you'd planned to! He doesn't say it, but he misses you. Dad is good. He's ready to retire and relax a bit. He struggles at times and could use some whispers "I love you" if it's possible. I'm hanging in there. We've moved and living in the camper. Eww lol  

Kelcy, Catherine & Fallon just had babies! Unreal right? A lot of your friends are married now too. I wish you were here. I wish I could share those experiences with you.

How's Heaven been? Meet any new, cool people lately? Lot and Moses have gotta be top picks for me! I bet you've charmed the socks off 'em all.....you're just that special. I'm so blessed to be your mom. Don't forget me.

xoxo, Mom

I Love You So

I love you so...

   Don't you just love that? A friend sent this phrase to me in a text, and I was immediately taken with how it made me feel. Usually we say "I love you so much," but this seems so much BIGGER, fuller, more meaningful and intimate without "much" tacked on the end. I love it.

I love her. I love her so...

   3 years. 1095 days since we last saw her, heard her voice, touched her skin. I will never call this an "anniversary" or "angelversary" I don't think. There's nothing about this day I want to celebrate.

   Lyn and I probably think about Sydni more than most do about their living children. Every minute detail of everyday life includes the thought "what if she were here," from grocery shopping to singing in the car, and every possible moment in between. There's such an emptiness. Sometimes I feel like I have to prove to her how much I love her, and how much we miss her.

   This summer has been better than the rest. Landon did a camp at school that made for a change in the rhythm of the summer days that brought me here, and was very helpful to me emotionally.

   It may be easier to say where I'm not than where I am. I'm not falling apart or curled up in my bed this day. I'm so sad, I'm forever sad, but as I compare my emotions to the last 2 collisions with this day, the grief it seems has somewhat lessened, changed, perhaps morphing ever slowly into something more permanent. It upsets me. It's like I'm grieving my grief. The tears that fall aren't as frequent anymore. I no longer need to cry everyday or a thousand times a day, but I cry, the long drawn out sobs more often replaced with less frequent, gut punching, unbreathable, wrenching silent cries. My body aches for her.

   When I lay my head down at night still seems to be the hardest, in the darkness with my thoughts and examinations of self and events. It's when I struggle most and when I still can't believe this happened to us, that she's gone, and that I had NO idea that her life was so fragile. It's when I most dissect our lives together, our relationship, our last months..days..moments. How could I love someone so completely, and not know their world was spinning out of control?

   Trips to the cemetery have slowed. It's strange how much more real it feels when we go there. I think somewhere in my mind, unconsciously, and yet expectedly, I envision this as a bad break-up or separation from someone you loved. They are far away and you don't talk anymore, but they're out there, somewhere, and just maybe, you'll get a call or text, you'll bump into them or they'll knock on your door, and all will be right with the world again. My head and my heart just don't get it.

   Language continues to be sensitive, always reactive, careful to never convey too much happiness. I use the words "okay" and sometimes "good" to describe us when asked how we are or how we're doing, but never "great." When describing my day, I might say "better" but never "best." Milestones and accomplishments forever hyphenated with sorrow. Nothing will ever be as happy as it could be, without her.

   Blogging has been very therapeutic for me, maybe lifesaving, altho I'm not sure how much longer I'll continue writing. With it I've been able to share my truth and some of my family's. It's kept me plugged in to society, where I often times feel I don't fit. This has never been about dishonoring our precious and beautiful Sydni, but to give a perspective and transparency to the pain of losing a child, and the aftermath of suicide. It will be a lifetime of absence of a gift from God.

I've been gentle with my words today. There are more moments than I could possibly jot down, that my heart feels completely shattered. The real of it all is I'm dying inside today.

Take care of one another. Do your best. Forgive quickly. Love out loud. No silence.



My SydniDrew <3 How are you??? It's been awhile and I've missed writing these notes to you!!! Let's see, since I last wrote, your dad broke his leg, and your bubba had his appendix removed. I KNOW!! Scary stuff huh?? They are good now and dad is on the mend. Landon went to youth camp and LOVED it! He got braces...and GLASSES!!! (he's so cute!) Gosh I miss you. I'm sure you have Jesus wrapped around your finger and squeezing him tight with the best hugs only you can give <3 Did I mention I miss you??? I can't help but hope these letters reach you. Surely God likes technology lol (;  I am okay Sytni <3  It's gonna take me a while longer, but I'm okay. I think more than anything ever, if I could just get a text or something from you... Your sweet friends still keep in touch (: I think you'd be as amazed as I am! Like there's a lot!!!! Such great character.
Guess I'll go for now. Don't forget us, but don't worry either.

Hoping you know...I love you so.

Who Am I?

   
   As many of you know church has been difficult for us this past year or so. We have gone a couple times in the last 2 months and are trying to re-engage our spiritual lives. The music is hard, the lessons and sermons can be difficult, and even the praises/prayer requests of a Sunday School class or sitting next to a family that's "all there" can make you question why we would put ourselves thru it. To remember that God has always been and remains FOR us is where I am trying to get back to. I don't have to understand the "whys" of this life, I just need to have faith that He will heal my brokenness. 
SS topic for this past week was about spiritual maturity and where we see ourselves. Someone said that you might be spiritually immature if you're not steadfast in faith when dealing with hardship, tragedy, the possibility of losing a child, that our hope shouldn't be reliant on whether a child lives or dies, but on God's will. I agree with that, but I contend that spiritual maturity is not a plateau that you arrive and stay. Maybe it can change and evolve with the ebb and flow of life's trials, depending on circumstances, and give way to further growth. You will never reach full spiritual maturity until we are united with Christ. Our journeys as Christians are not all the same. It's what makes our testimonies unique, one from another. Spiritual maturity is a journey. Grief is a journey. Parenting is a journey. LIFE is a journey, and it's full of growth and setbacks; struggles and triumph; pain and joy; hope and sorrow. Maybe the idea is to come out stronger than before, changed.

   I've discovered a new platform for healing and expressing how I feel in my grief journey. It's videos. So many thoughts I form in my head daily, a tangled mess of emotions and awareness I want to convey. They seem to hit me at the most in opportune times like when I'm driving or laying in bed, working, and when I'm least able to jot them down, and all sounding so much better there than when I attempt to write, but videos can tell their own story, of emotions, and a life with the the most precious gift we could ask for. It moves some of the focus from Sydni's death, to looking at and remembering our beautiful lives together. The pictures make me both happy and profoundly sad. The music speaks for me. I try to tell a story as I merge split seconds in time with the words and sounds that communicate my emotions. It's my way of remembering her, sharing her, and conveying the endless emotions of the greatest loss I've known.

   My latest struggle has been trying to discover where I fit in now. It is still very difficult to be around parents of girls or to hear about milestones of older kids, but to be honest, I never know what is going to make me sad in a conversation, so how can I expect others to know. It's been a little over 2 years now, people's lives have moved forward, and so have ours, as little as that movement may seem to us. I want to be with people. I want to have friends. I want to be liked and not pitied. I want to be a friend. I don't have my girl with me anymore and I want to have girl time, but it's hard. I smile and try, but I'm not healed. I'm not sure if/when that will happen. It's probably hard to be my friend. I'm still very sensitive; sad; withdrawn at times; intimidated by crowds, situations; worried over who I'll see or what will make me retreat; acutely thankful for the smaller things in life, but not thankful for a lot of things I think I should see as blessings; having trouble being happy for other's happiness aka selfish; aka still a mess.
I'm not sure who I am anymore, and I kinda don't remember who I was before August 8, 2013. Heck, I was asked the other night how old Sydni would be and I couldn't remember! Who doesn't know how old their children are? I was floored when I realized she would be 19. NINETEEN! How did she get that old and why did I not remember this? She's had birthdays! It's because she's forever 16, 11 days shy of her 17th birthday, still attending BHHS and graduating this next year. She plans to attend A&M, drives a little sports car (sometimes too fast) and you're sure to see her cruising down 3180 headed to a friend's house. We led a typical, imperfect life here at the Lewis home, and now it's gone.
I think about her all day everyday, probably more than most parents think about their living children, and I don't even know how old she would be...

   Things I've accomplished. I bought my first new decorative things for my house (some wall stuff) since Sydni died. I sang for the first time in church a few weeks ago. I am going to the gym (4 weeks so far) which I'm proud of...but there's a catch lol. I'm going at 5am so to avoid as much emotion as possible. Not sure how long that early morning gig will last but I am trying! I'm trying to live life. I'm trying to gain more of a hold on my footing. I am trying...

My beautiful SydniDrew, I'm sorry its been awhile since I last wrote to you here. It's harder to write, but maybe that's because we are growing strength. Landon is in the playoffs again for TIFI football and overall has had the best year yet since you left. He's in SIXTH grade now! And growing up. He didn't go to Homecoming this year. He's not nearly as social as you were at his age, but he's becoming such a wonderful young man <3 You'd be so proud of him! Dad is okay but he struggles and misses you just as much as me. We are both going to the gym and I'm getting up at 4:30am!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?? ME! lOl  Kimmie still sends me good morning texts almost daily and Michael is there for dad too. So grateful for their friendships <3. I still wish for you, think of you, most of my time. How can I ever give up? I'm your mom! We are going to GriefShare at church and have met some really nice people. Bro Danny loves and misses you too! He talks about you a lot <3
How is Heaven? Busy? Do you walk or float? Are there seasons? Do you sleep? Eat? Have a house? What does God look like? I'm sad not to be able to share with you what each of us is experiencing. I can't wait to see you... I miss all of you...
X's & O's Sydni. You are my forever person💞

God Makes No Mistakes

"God makes no mistakes." I like this phrase for many reasons. 

I have heard so many times that "God has a plan", that "our loved ones are in a better place," that "things happen for a reason." These phrases speak to the death of my beautiful daughter to me, but not of her life. To hear "God makes no mistakes" allows for the possibility, the fact that I WAS supposed to be her mom, that she WAS supposed to be our daughter and sister. But even bigger than that...that our life with her, her life specifically, wasn't a mistake. That in LIFE and in death, it was as it was meant to be. It may be as simple as how it's written, but for me, it is a balance of her life as well as her death, a balance of feelings that I can deal with.

 

Mothers Day. Number two without Sydni, and it was again difficult. I think any holiday or hilite in a grieving family's life, seemingly big or small, is exasperated/expounded by the fact that we now have the technology of social media. It's so difficult to avoid what you feel about daily or life events because it slaps you from every direction thanks to smart phones and apps. On the flip side, it provides a way to keep in touch with friends and society, as well it serves as a forum in which to keep your child's memory publicly alive as long as you can. I am beginning to feel some discomfort in posting pics and feelings I might be having on a given day, not by anyone, just me. Perhaps it's the intellect that sees first that it's time to let it go, without the rest of your being being able to catch up. The fact is that life has moved on, even if we haven't been able to keep up the pace.

What does suicide look like? 

I have observed so many teens over these 2 years, watching strangers from a distance, talking to her friends and different kids I've met, but always wondering, wasn't Sydni just like you?? 

I wish I had answers or great advice to give people about what it looks like before your child takes their life....but I don't! Is it the awkward kid who sits silently at his/her desk? Is it the the "nerd" whose intellect keeps him from connecting with most? Is it the outgoing, always bubbly person who hides their pain?? 

Lyn pointed out that all three families that have lost children to suicide in the past 2 years came from stable, religious, two parent (meaning no divorce) homes, and all were first borns. Do we place too many expectations on those firsts? Do they feel more pressure to succeed and please? I am a first born and I know that there was a lot of responsibility that was given to me because. Is it that we as parents don't really know what we're doing that first time around, and sometimes even the second?? I wish kids could understand that most of us really do do the best we know how, and that we make mistakes just like everyone. I wish Sydni could've understood that I gave everything I had to be the best I could be, for her...and for Landon.

I am a perfectionist by nature, always wanting everything to be just right for everyone around me, but it comes with a price. I in no way think that "I" am perfect, quite the opposite, which is the problem! I'm not sure if I was born a perfectionist, or if my own childhood experiences drew me to the control that is required and demanded by such a personality type. I know that it plays a large role in my relationships...and my parenting. I never wanted Sydni to know too much of my "dark side" and the bad things I had done as a young adult, the rebel I was, the pain and anger I tried to "party" my way thru. Would things have turned out differently if I had shared more with her? ...as parents, we didn't drink, we didn't drug or cuss, we raised our children in the church. We made a home as "perfect" as we knew how for her. Was that where we went wrong? They were conscious and deliberate decisions. She was the beginning of what Lyn and I had always desired..a commitment to each other and to our children. 

I was mean sometimes, disappointed sometimes, hurt sometimes...all feelings I brought with me from my own upbringing and experiences. Was it too much? Does it justify the means? I LOVED YOU WITH EVERYTHING INSIDE ME! Do you hear that? Didn't you feel that? Didn't you KNOW that?? These words make me sob. I love you Sydni. I tried Sydni. And I secretly think that if I write long enough and yearn hard enough, that you will somehow come back for me. Perhaps I've gone mad, or maybe I'm doing all I can do to stay alive. It is a strange place to be and describe, the place between the rational and ???, between the insane madness and unbelievable truth of reality. I pray you never know how it feels. 

Grief is like being in the belly of a whale, the darkness there so completely isolating and suffocating, your future unknown. How alone Jonah must have felt. He needed God to rescue him, just as I do now. I have seen the Power of God. I've seen Him speak life into existence and I've seen Him take it back. I have experienced the blessings of Christ, but it is SO difficult for me to see the mercy and grace He has for me. I feel...condemned. 

As we ended our counseling session a few months ago I thought we might be nearing the end of our need for therapy. It was a bit awkward, with less to say than any other time we had gone in all these months. I sensed silently that maybe we had finally come to the place where we didn't need it anymore. But just as sure as you think you might have a grip on grief and life and how to "live" again, you find out you're wrong.

The last several months have marked some of their own lows, trying to complete Sydni's headstone, having to see and hear once again upcoming graduations, college preparations, the despair of losing another student to suicide, just to name a few. I almost immediately got texts and messages from friends of Sydni's after the death of another BH student, distraught and reliving the horror, confusion and pain they had already experienced twice less than two years ago. I know that I too felt many of those same emotions, without even knowing the young man who had decided to...  . How can I fill in that blank or finish that sentence when I have no understanding of the COMPLETE loss of hope these kids find themselves in? I feel in some way that I have failed yet again (insert failed perfectionism here :/ ), to emotionally connect and convey to young people that this is NOT the answer, and that you are leaving those that love you behind to endure a living death sentence! Then I think, how crazy of me to think that I could ever write or show anything that might change someone's mind and keep them from doing what they, in desperation, feel they need to do...I had hoped though.

How to describe where we are in this truly endless process... As I sit here and ponder what I would write next, I have no new take on it, but I think I've written this before. The feelings of despair and loss are ever present in our daily lives. Will it ever profoundly change? Will we ever stop thinking about her daily, hourly, minute by minute? I often ask myself how much longer before I feel better? Like really better? Like my old self, a part of the world, a sense of normal where being with a friend or group gathering isn't awkward, where seeing a mom hug her daughter doesn't send me reeling, where someone casually talking about their child's accomplishments doesn't make me want to run and cry. Maybe it comes in such minute steps that you don't see it as "aha" moments. 

I can say that at 2 years, we are NOT where we were when this started or a year ago. 

I think that the vividness of memories, as I've described before as fading, has to diminish with time. I think that it is the only way in which those left behind can continue on. It is unwanted but necessary for survival.

The hardest thing to do is to fuse all these emotions, facts, variables, Biblical truths, and questions into one straight line, a complete sentence that brings peace.

We find ourselves literally clinging to the simplest of distractions, sports practices and games, school functions, the occasional vacations we call "escapes" that we have indulged ourselves with, because there is no longer a big picture to life, not like before. I call this "short term happiness." We no longer have long term goals and dreams that parents patiently ready themselves for, make sacrifices for, and rely on during the "down" times of this life. We are now just surviving the day by day. Yes, we have Landon, and thank God for that!, but our dreams and goals as parents, began with Sydni. Even some of the dreams we had for Landon involved her; how Sydni would pave the way for her brother and nurture him, talk to him, as only a sibling can; where they might go to college; how close they might live to us or one another; how they would hopefully have kids and be close and take care of each other once we were gone. 

After the dust settles, the fact is that your child WILL be forgotten. They will never have children of their own. There will eventually be nothing left of them to carry on. 

I had a strange thought the other day that brought me to tears. It wasn't one of those "who would she be" or "what would she do with her life" thoughts, but...what would she look like in 10 years?  I saw one of Sydni's friends sub'ing at Landon's school this past May, and I thought how much she had grown and matured. I won't ever get to see what might have been...Like I will never know what she would look like as an adult, as a mother. She wasn't even through growing!  She would/will be 19 on the 19th :( I know I've said it before, but moments like this are so overwhelming for me. What she did was SO final, and sometimes the finality of that catches me infinitely aware.
Death of a child, no matter the manner, is so unique, so unfulfilling for the family. What do you think of as you carry your baby nine months but the dreams and promise they hold. That is shattered in the wake of their death.

I know that I will see, and be with Sydni again. That scares me and makes me happy at the same time. It scares me because I don't know exactly what that looks like. I don't know for sure what our meeting in Heaven will look like, or what our forever lives will be like. I am only human, and my earthly expectations and desires are limited. It's about faith.
I was always the scared one! Roller coasters, bungee jumping, parasailing, even a ferris wheel! I so SO admired Sydni's courage and adventurous side to try new things and be so fearless. She would always ride any ride, or jump off anything. I just wish she would've been more afraid to die... How do you not be afraid to die??? 

 

My SydniDrew, I miss you so much! I finally watched Fault in Our Stars and I wished you were with me, cuddling in my bed with me while we watched it together. So many phrases in that movie I could relate to, but one quote, "pain demands to be felt" speaks to me and I suppose to you so profoundly. I'm sorry I didn't see. What you did was so very final.

I don't know that I will blog again for a while, so Happy 19th Birthday! Wow! 19 :/ Who would you be now? We as adults think 19 is so young, and it is! but you would've grown so much too. It is weird not having any current pictures to post for you big day. That is hard for me. 

How could I EVER describe in words or text what you mean to me????????? There are not enough letters or punctuation in ANY language that could touch what I want to say that I feel. 

Heaven is probably so awesome that you are just...idk...doin your Sydni thang! 

I do know you MUST keep everyone smiling with your great personality and kind heart. I wish you would visit me in my dreams. 

We are okay! Don't worry bout us! Just be there when we get there, okay?? Kinda like meeting us at the airport :) You can make a sign if you want to!! ...with a BIG pink heart💗so we'll know it's you faster! :)))))

I went to dinner with Sarah. She's doing great! Kelcy went abroad. I know, shocker!!! Lol   ALL your friends are good and keeping in touch💞 I have appreciated it so much!!

Bubba is playing football. Senior year in TIFI and is doing good. Dad is a rock. Puts up with me still...and misses you as much as I do. 

Why do I write these to you? 

I just miss talking to you. Touching you. Smelling you. ...........I miss you. 

I guess I write these because thru my tears I am crying out right now...this is not real life :( ... just as I did on the day you left. 

It is real life, but it isn't at the same time......

Miss you. Love you. ...wish you were here :/

The Cable Box

   Type, erase. Type, walk away. I can't count how many times I jot down thoughts and then decide against publishing them or just delete them. I wish I had an audio recorder in my head to truly share the ongoing YouTube like soundtracks that play each day. It's a jumbled mess of emotions that jump from one scene to the next depending on my mood, "memory of the moment," or location.  I think, what more can I share, but then I remember why I write these, and honestly, it's for my healing as much as anything else. It's a release, regardless of it redundancy, just somewhere and some way to relieve my brain and heart of "swelling" from pain and sorrow. My "goal" if you will, in sharing these chronicles instead of just journaling them, would be to help someone, if that's possible. 

   So many events, both big and small have happened since my last blog; we went on vacation for Christmas, I was honored to go to a mother/daughter tea, and blessed by a friend who named her baby after SydniDrew (middle name only). I'd be lying if I said that each one of these "bigger" events wasn't hard, but those are sometimes the ones you can plan for, expecting the sadness that will be, but being able to also prepare and give thought to the opportunity and love and even joy that they bring. Most of the time, it's the small, unexpected trials that bring you to your knees...the ones you don't see coming.

   Who knew? Who knew that a simple cable box could evoke so much emotion in a person, but it did. We upgraded our Dish system and I had to turn in Sydni's cable box, still sitting there on her dresser, plugged in and waiting...waiting all these 19 months for her to come home. It stabbed my heart like a dagger to pull the plug from the wall. It was just another painful reminder of something I have yet to obviously FULLY grasp...that she won't be coming home again. 

    Heaven is reserved, for our grandparents and eventually our parents. We imagine ourselves reuniting with them someday when we become those elderly people, but Heaven is not somewhere we envision our children will be before us. Christian parents encourage and teach about Christ's sacrifice and our redemption at the cross, but Heaven is in the far off future, save for the 2nd Coming, a place you prepare for, but never anticipate, until after a long, full life.

   There are moments of clarity for me, times when I can see thru the fog of grief, but always ever mindful of my role and duty to SydniDrew and all that her life and love mean to me. I never want to dishonor or belittle the magnitude of what she brought to us. I never want anyone to think that I have forgotten or feel no more pain, and I'm trying to understand how to be happy, even just smile, while being thoughtful to her memory at the same time. It seems simple enough, but it is not. I was her mom. I am her mom. I loved her then as I do this very day, completely and fully. I miss her now as much as I did that very day she left, but I am here, and I grow tired, exhausted trying to remain where I was and want to be, and where I am now. I don't know what she would want for me, for us. I can assume a posture that she would want us to be happy and fulfilled in this life, but it of course doesn't always feel that way. That's what suicide brings to the table. It takes away the ability to say that it was not in their control, and that they would be with you if they could, that they would want you to carry on in happiness and peace without them. If that were true why would they leave? It has left me feeling hated and unloved, guilty and punished, unworthy and lost. I realize that some of my questions and thoughts are not intellectual or logical. Some are based purely on emotion. Is the act of attempted or successful suicide logical? 

   My relationship with God has suffered. At first it was where I wanted and needed to be, but as time has gone on, I find church a place of judgement, never by the people there, but by God himself. I'm angry with Him. He could've stopped it. Why would He put us through this? I hear people talk about "God's will" or how God delivered them from disease or a situation and how good He is. Well that's not how I feel. I don't feel any relief, any "good" that has come from losing my daughter. It hasn't enhanced my life in any way that is visible to me. I know God and believe. He knows my heart and I hope He forgives me, even when I fail Him.

   It's been nineteen of the longest and most painful months of my existence. I continue to search for balance; of love and loss, of confusion and clarity, of anger and peace, of guilt and forgiveness, of life without her. Her, my precious firstborn whom I long to call out by name, to hear, to see, to feel and smell. I am another day closer to you, my beautiful and loved SydniDrew <3

Guess what?! :) I love you! 

We are all okay here. I know it's been awhile since I have written, but it's just hard to find new ways to say how much I love and miss you :/ 

PresleyDrew was born and Landon and I got to hold her for like a long time!!! Landon was so gentle with her! How awesome is it that you have a baby named after you?? I don't have anybody named after me! lol well except when brother used to say his name was Landon Becky Lewis! Remember that?? 

I got to go to a sorority tea with Kelcy and Ms Terri too. It was really nice and I had a great time with them. I got to see a dorm room and the Baylor campus. I think you would've LOVED college life!! And I would have loved coming for visits, bugging you and meeting your friends, and prolly cleaning your room for you ;) I miss you and your friends being here. ((crying for real right now))...I miss you like I can't even describe...I'm sorry I wasn't a better mom. I'm sorry I was upset with you. I can't change anything now. You took that away when you left. I pray for you to come back, I see a shadow or something and my heart flutters. You are so loved. Your dad is going to A&M for fire school tomorrow, so watch out for him. He is really sad and anxious about going there. He thought he would be spending some daddy/daughter time with you and treating you like the princess he knows you are <3

Well guess I'll go for now. If you wanna talk you know where I am. Come see me in my dreams....tell me all about your new life. 

I love you, my forever love. 

Merry Christmas Darling

   I don't write as much anymore, mostly because it feels repetitive to talk about the same emotions and struggles over and over, but I have been in Sydni's room, and as always, I come out worse for wear and feeling compelled to write, however redundant. We are heading back to Colorado for our 2nd annual Christmas "escape." I continue to call our excursions that because I would never want anyone to think that we are happy or having too much fun without our precious first born, but we'll address that further down the page. 
Anyway, the reason for going in Sydni's room was primarily to retrieve our ski stuff for the trip, but with the holidays and just missing her, I wanted a big dose of her. I don't go in there often, but when I do it's usually for a purpose, not just to be closer to her, hurts too much still...
Boxes of clothes have been sitting, stacked for months in the middle of her room, bed that we put in there for Landon, now in his own room. Bed frames and mattresses lined up against her walls, along with the boxes make it difficult to get into the attic spaces in there, let alone a space where one can sit and just be. I decided to peek thru the boxes, and without hesitation found myself literally face diving inside her shoes and boots, desperate to catch the smallest aroma of her scent, in hopes of somehow re-engaging in her presence. I was overcome with sorrow, the finality of it all so extremely palpable in that moment. I know that I know she won't be back, but there is a very real, unconscious part of me that believes otherwise.
So what am I to do with all her clothes, her things, her room? At first I thought I knew. I boxed up, cleaned out, and then just as quickly, I stopped. I couldn't give her stuff to just anyone! They needed to be worthy of someone so amazing. How can I paint over the walls, take down pictures, remove all signs of the last tangible place she inhabited? This part of the grief comes in waves...paint, don't paint, give away, hold on to; visit her room, stay out; move, don't move...So many ever-changing feelings. Which steps/decisions are the right ones? Some decisions we won't be able to take back. It will be as permanent as her death. When does this pain lessen? When will it be "better?"

Every drawer I open, every cabinet, closet, crevice of this house still contains a life with Sydni in it. It's SUCH a double edged sword! I wouldn't want that stuff not to be there, but I don't want that stuff to be there, adding to the loss we feel.

   I put up a tree and hung lights for the first time this Christmas. Lyn and I both feel an obligation to Landon to try to continue to edge toward a more normal life for him. We bought a new tree and new lights in the spirit of avoidance. We purchased a few ornaments for each of us..and Sydni too <3  I wasn't going to hang any of our normal ornaments, but Landon insisted, so I conceded, but with the stipulation that he help. He agreed and helped hang the ornaments, his and Sydni's, and seemed to enjoy it. 

Put lights on the house, but no yard decor. Didn't have that much spirit. As I was hanging the strands on the eaves, one of the bulbs broke and it happened to land right in the middle of the house. I decided we would leave that bulb out in honor of Sydni. There will always be a light missing from our home.
Here's the thing. As soon as we got the lights hung and the tree up I started wondering what people would think. Would they think we had "moved on," were over it now, were better? Our grief counselor asked me about this very thing. I had said to her that when I move too far from the grief (insert long pause), when I move too far from her, I have to dive back in. She pointed out that moving away from grief doesn't mean moving away from Sydni. WOW moment...but I'm not ready. I feel I'm not worthy of happiness. I don't deserve to enjoy life or holidays because I feel such great responsibility for her death. If I post pics of the tree or the house lights, I need to make sure that everyone knows that we left a light out, so they know we are still so sad, as if that needs to be implied, and yet I'm compelled. I left the light out for the right reason, but I have this need for all to know I'm not okay. If we go on a vacation, then I need to justify it as an escape, which it truly is, but making sure it's clear we are not in it to have "the time of our lives" or anything. It's not for sympathy, it's for clarity. I want everyone to know I'm still living in my Hell, my sentence for the life I didn't save. I don't know how to release the guilt, but I WILL one day...just a little more time.
   I describe where I am as "different," not better or moved forward, just different. The grief is still there, still constant, it's just not the same as it was when it happened. But then to specify how it's different becomes difficult. I don't cry as much, I don't hold my head as low, I don't fear the public as much, I laugh and am even happy at times, idk. Maybe it is something better identified by others outside ourselves, how we seem, rather than from within, but what I do know is I am forever changed.
Our family has pretty much been reduced to just Lyn, Landon and I. Grief has a way of exposing our past hurts and our own inadequacies and amplifying them. I don't feel as tolerant or gracious toward certain disappointments. I'm not angry, just resigned, and I don't feel the fight left in me to try to care whether they becomes resolved. Having said that, perhaps I should be thankful for the struggles of my past. Perhaps these prepared me to weather this storm. If I really look at it, I have lived my whole life with questions, and I feel certain I will die in much the same way. 
It's 11:11. .....
   I would continue to ask for prayers. My faith is there, but my flesh is weak. It hurts to go to church for so many reasons. I know that Christ loves me and died for me, and that I need Him. He IS the way. It's questions and anger, and of course guilt that keep me from receiving all that He has for me I am sure. I often believe I wasn't a good enough Christian parent to Sydni, but I know we have a duty, an "opportunity" (per Bro Danny) for Landon to experience the love, support and knowledge that comes with a church family. 
My specific prayer would be that we could find a way to get past our obstacles, our triggers of sadness, and hear and receive the blessings that God and our church have for us.

   Please know that these blogs serve a purpose for me. They enable me to freely convey my sorrowful emotions and bring about awareness, but they are not my only emotions. Writing and sharing the pain is my avenue to bring meaning to Sydni's death, her beautiful life, and the tremendous love we have for her. It gives me a purpose, and purpose=hope <3 The blogs are all I have to offer at this time to possibly help parents continue an open dialogue with their kids about depression, teen pressures, suicide, or just to connect with one another. I hope it would also serves as a reminder to someone in distress about the devastation left behind, and to understand the permanence of a momentary action. It is so real.

   I hope everyone has a Blessed Christmas. CHERISH the moments, not the gifts. Take more pictures than you should. (I suggest video too) Let those you love know it. Hug and kiss and hug some more! Christ was born this day so that you and I, and my beautiful Sydni could live for eternity. 

SydniDrew <3 Oh how I miss you. I wish I could express the full emotion of how those words really feel. Oh how I love you. I wish I could hold you and show you how precious your life was to us. It is hard without you, as I guess it always will remain. Your friends are trickling home from college, senior pictures are being taken, and acceptance letters received. It continues to be a struggle to wonder what might have been or what you would be doing. Landon needs his sister. Dad needs his baby girl. I need my daughter, my best friend, my Sydni. We leave for Colorado Friday. You would love the snow. I would love snuggling with you and drinking hot chocolate. Landon would love throwing snowballs at you, and dad would love listening to you tell him to make Landon stop. (this made me smile big when I reread!) What a life we had, the Lewis4. It wasn't perfect, but wasn't it good enough?! 

 

Change comes. Love remains.

   Life after a year looks better for us, at least from the outside looking in. I am able to go thru most days without exposing others to my unsolicited crying spells. I can respond to "how are you doing?" with an "I'm okay." I can smile, joke, maybe even laugh a bit, but it's always there. The sadness lurks just underneath the surface of my face, the emptiness still lives in my heart. It's difficult to talk about just everyday stuff when my world still feels so upside down. Is this my life? Is this as good as it gets? I still feel anxious a lot, nervous a lot, depressed and sad a lot. Will I ever be happy again? 

   It is still hard, hard to hear about other's teens and their accomplishments, hard to see teens just..being teens! I feel as if I'm living in an alternate universe, a parallel life to the one I used to know, but I can't get there anymore. I can see, right over there, the road of what was and what should be, but there's no getting to it. Now there stands an invisible wall, between where I am and where I want. The path we're on now, it's not so clear, not so bright and cheery, not at all what we had planned all these years. 

   Sydni's room sits, boxes still littering the once vibrant space of the beautiful soul that lived there. Thank you notes sit untouched. It would almost be embarrassing to send them at this point, and I don't think I am yet emotionally ready to do them anyway. Her gravestone sits, waiting for us to adorn it. We don't yet have her things back from investigators either. I think we are just in survival mode, trying our best to move forward and find a way to give Landon some happiness while waiting out the storm of sorrow that continues to engulf us.

   Landon is struggling again this year with football. He wanted to play at the first of the season, but as time goes on he doesn't want to go. We are trying to steer him toward sticking it out, not quitting, and trying to work through the sadness this sport brings him now. I want to thank all the TIFI coaches and parents for putting up with us this year. Landon sometimes doesn't make it to practice despite our best efforts to get him there, and sometimes sits out of practices because he just can't do it. Even so, he's been given the opportunity to play in the games and it is MUCH appreciated. Everyone has been more than generous with us. He loved football before Sydni died, so it's hard to know if we should let him stop playing or not. We don't want to promote "quitting" either, as we've already lost someone that meant everything to us. I have no idea what the right thing to do is. I'm certain some would say press on, while others would say let him stop if it makes him sad, so what's the perfect answer, because perfect is what I need. We want only the best for him, just like we did Sydni. Part of me wishes I knew what it was I did wrong to cause Sydni to die...and part of me would be terrified to know.

   Parenting is never easy, it shouldn't be, but normally we are afforded mistakes along the way. We do the best we can, make the best decisions possible for our kids based on what we were taught, or not taught, and what feels right as we know it in our hearts and in our minds. If we get it right, great, and if we don't, we can try again, differently next time if need be. But now, now I feel I have no room for error. Now I see that every decision I make may cost a person, my only other child, their life. Every squabble, every conflict, the smallest of disagreements triggers my consuming guilt. If I thought that parenting was difficult before, it is monstrous in comparison now. The more I need, want, am drawn to parent differently, the worse I feel about myself and the more I doubt myself as a parent. Parenting differently means that I did something/everything wrong and therefore I have to correct my mistakes. Parenting differently means that I didn't do it right before, with her, and that is overwhelming to me.

   It IS different then a year ago, I just don't know if it's any better. The longer I spend without her, the less I anticipate her return, but there are just no words to describe what life has been or will be without her. I continue to think of her constantly, nearly every waking moment of every day, and I continue to miss her in the same way. I long to hear her say I love you again, I long to smell her, touch her soft skin. What I would give for even one minute, sixty seconds with her. It would make a world of difference for me, but it won't happen. So I will love her, with all that I am for as long as forever will be...

Hey, how have you been? We are okay. Landon had his birthday and thinks being 11 is kind of a big deal :) The grief counselor said he needed to stop sleeping with us so he's back in his room..for now. We let Maci go up there with him cuz he says it's lonely upstairs without you here. Dad is alright. He is struggling some and we are worrying a lot about how to take care of Landon. I know you are really happy in Heaven, but I have to tell you you kinda messed us up down here. I'm not doing so well sometimes. A few of your friends still keep in touch and everybody seems to be doing good. I think you would've LOVED college life, but I think I would've bugged you too much ;) 

I'm sorry I wasn't a better mom to you. I did try for you, the best I knew how. 

I love you and miss you like crazy. 

There'll never be another love like you SydniDrew <3