Gilda's

Tonight I attended my first Parent Grief group at Gilda's. It meets on Wednesdays, obviously. Anyway, we usually go on Thursday nights to the Pediatric Oncology Parent Group. Ethan would attend the Tween group.

The major difference in the groups, besides the obvious, is that not all the deaths are from cancer. It was interesting to hear different stories and hear how people are at different stages in their grieving. I left feeling extremely blessed that we had time with Ethan, that we were present at his passing, and that we have completely accepted his death. I will go again but I'm not sure for how long.

Halloween is going to be difficult. I found myself thinking today that I don't have to carve a pumpkin for the first time in 21 years! It's good and bad. Joe and I would take turns taking the kids trick or treating each year. Ethan usually picked who he wanted to go at the last minute and the other one stayed home. Last year, he went with a friend.

I'm mystified by my emotions lately though - I know, it's grief - one minute I'm fine and the next minute I'm stuck in some memory. I still feel completely at peace with Ethan's death, I just seem to be going down memory lane A LOT!

One of my favorite pictures of him is the Halloween we were in isolation at the hospital and Ethan wanted to be the Incredible Hulk. I took a picture of him on Halloween night in his hospital bed, all dressed up for trick or treating! Because we were in isolation, we left his jack-o-lantern bucket by the door and people dropped treats in it as they went by. We also carved a foamboard pumpkin - can't have real ones when you're in isolation - it's sitting on our porch this year but that year we set it outside our hospital door with a flashing light inside so that "everyone will know it's Halloween" (Ethan's 7 year old words).

So this year we begin our new normal of Halloween without young children living with us. It's okay. We knew one day it was going to happen, we just didn't think "one day" was so soon. Another lesson for us to learn that we do not control our lives, we should plan for one day but not expect it to come. We should rely on God for everything and give him thanks for all - even the tough things. He took an incredibly difficult time in our lives and turned it into the most precious time. For that and many other things, we give thanks and praise.

Yesterday for some reason was a tough day. Not the pit in your stomach, I can't get out of bed day. But I just couldn't get Ethan's last day out of my mind. I know it had a lot to do with taking my annual CPR class and hearing about the warning signs of the end of life. In a heartbeat, I was back in the hospital room, hearing Ethan's shallow breathing, looking at his unseeing eyes, holding his hand, and telling him quietly and gently that Jesus loved him so much more than I did and it was okay to go to Him. That Ethan C. and Ethan M. and Gramma and so many others were waiting for him. That we would be okay...it was time to think about Ethan and not about us.
I remember lying with him and smelling his hair, trying to imprint it on my mind. I remember Jesus holding both of us. Most of all I remember the incredulous joy when Ethan breathed his last breath. I felt I was going to burst, the room was spinning, I was so happy. My son was going to heaven. What more could I ask for!
Now today I am reminded of that joy and that my life needs to be dedicated to God...I need to continue to live as if each day is my last. I need to be joyful - and I am - for the most part.

"O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens. From the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise because of your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger." Psalm 8:1 & 2