O CHRISTMAS TREE

I've been dreading this day.  This is the day I usually get the tree out of the box and begin my annual decorating of the house for Christmas.  Once my Thanksgiving guests are gone, I know it is time to prepare my house for "The most wonderful time of the year."  However, as you can imagine, the spirit of Christmas seems to have flown from my house.  I feel rather like Ebenezer Scrooge this year.  So, borrowing from Dickens, "Bah! Humbug!"
       I really can't get into the mood for Christmas.  My sadness cloud returned Friday and it has settled in, just as the fog did this morning.  Other houses in town are lit from foundation to peak, but I'm thinking that our house may remain dark this year.  The kids asked if I was going to put a tree up and I said yes.  However, today, I'm rethinking this. 
       Our tree looks the same every year.  It is a memory tree.  We have ornaments representing different times of our lives, beginning with our first Christmas together eighteen years ago.  One ornament is made from the napkins from our wedding reception.  Others remind us of wonderful family trips.  Then there is Andrew's baby ornament--his first Christmas.  There are football ornaments--at least one for each of the boys.  Then there is Amanda as a Bulldog cheerleader.  There are also tractor ornaments--a green one for Billy and a red one for Andrew.  One of our newest additions is a grandparents ornament.  Oh, so many memories. 
       On Friday, our family did decorate a tree.  Bill and I found a little tree to put in the container we've kept flowers in this summer and fall at Andrew's grave.  Clint, Ashley, and Amanda placed the solar powered Christmas lights around this little tree and we took it to the cemetery.  We discovered that the city plows the roads in and around the cemetery, so it was easier to traverse the snow to visit my son than originally thought.  When we arrived, we realized someone had already been there.  Whoever it was had gently swept away the snow on Andrew's stone. Together, we decorated our youngest's grave for the Christmas season.  That little tree covered in snow and in Christmas lights really is beautiful, but I'm sure if someone is walking around the cemetery around dusk, he or she may be a bit startled to see flashing lights coming from the direction of Andrew's grave.
        So, on the Friday after Thanksgiving, we did all the decorating that I really wanted to do.  And with the help of those little solar Christmas lights, all who are around Andrew will be able to enjoy the glow of his little Christmas tree. 

O Christmas Tree! O Christmas Tree!
How richly God has decked thee!
O Christmas Tree! O Christmas Tree!
How richly God has decked thee!
Thou bidst us true and faithful be,
And trust in God unchangingly.
O Christmas Tree! O Christmas Tree!
How richly God has decked thee! !" 

~Andrew's Mom

MADE WITH LOVE

My mother always told me she had a great mother-in-law.  She was wonderful, according to all who knew her, but I, her granddaughter, never had the privilege of meeting her.  I, too, have a wonderful mother-in-law and, unlike me, my son was lucky to know her, love her, and be loved by her. 
       Do you know my mother-in-law?  She is the way all grandmothers should be.  Marilyn has a smile that can light up a room.  She is always available for a quick visit or a wonderful meal.  My mother-in-law maybe short in stature, but tall in her ability to love.   She has been grieving the loss of our sweet Andrew right along with us.  In her grief, she created an Andrew legacy for our family.  She created this with her talent and her tears.
       Andrew never could keep his room clean.  After his death, I realized why.  The boy had too many articles of clothing for the small amount of storage space that I gave him.  He had so many t-shirts that I filled up three garbage sacks of them.  I had them in the back of my car, ready to take them to St. Vincent's, when my mother-in-law asked me for them.  She wanted to take all of his t-shirts and make a quilt for each of the kids.  If there were enough leftover, she would make one for Bill and me too.  If there were enough?
       So, during this summer and into the fall, Grandma lovingly created quilt squares out of his t-shirts.  She organized them by mascots--Bulldogs, Cardinals, Cougars, Griz, Mariners, Seahawks, Packers.  She organized them by activities--football, football camp, basketball, basketball camp, t-ball, theater activities, pep band.  She wanted each quilt to be special to each sibling.  We also found a crimson fabric on which I had a lot of memories embroidered onto it--Andrew David Groom--February 9, 1994-June 7, 2010--Bulldog Football, Bulldog Basketball, Bulldog Golf--Bulldog Born, Bulldog Bred.  All of this was accomplished among so many activities, including a two and a half week "vacation" in the hospital as she recovered from knee replacement surgery.  A dear friend machine quilted each, in a very speedy manner, so Grandma could finish the quilts by Thanksgiving.  It was her plan to give them to Andrew's brothers and sister on this first major holiday without him.
       So today, after our meal, Grandma and Grandpa Groom gave Billy & Jessie, Amanda, Clint & Ashley, plus Bill & me our Andrew t-shirt quilt.  They are each beautiful and unique, just like our Andrew.  What a wonderful way for a loving grandmother to honor a much loved grandson!



Amanda





Billy, Jessie, and Hendrix





Clint & Ashley



THE FIRST SNOWFALL

The snow had begun in the gloaming,
And busily all the night
Had been heaping field and highway
With a silence deep and white.

Every pine and fir and hemlock
Wore ermine too dear for an earl,
And the poorest twig on the elm-tree
Was ridged inch deep with pearl.

From sheds new-roofed with Carrara
Came Chanticleer's muffled crow,
The stiff rails were softened to swan's-down,
And still fluttered down the snow.

I stood and watched by the window
The noiseless work of the sky,
And the sudden flurries of snow-birds,
Like brown leaves whirling by.

I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn
Where a little headstone stood;
How the flakes were folding it gently,
As did robins the babes in the wood.

Up spoke our own little Mabel,
Saying, 'Father, who makes it snow?'
And I told of the good All-father
Who cares for us here below.

Again I looked at the snowfall,
And thought of the leaden sky
That arched o'er our first great sorrow,
When that mound was heaped so high.

I remembered the gradual patience
That fell from that cloud like snow,
Flake by flake, healing and hiding
The scar of our deep-plunged woe.

And again to the child I whispered,
'The snow that husheth all,
Darling, the merciful Father
Alone can make it fall! '

Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her;
And she, kissing back, could not know
That my kiss was given to her sister,
Folded close under deepening snow.

This poem is entitled "The First Snowfall" by James Russell Lowell.  I've taught it over twenty times in the past twenty-seven years, but when I taught it this year, it had a certain bitter sweetness attached to it.

I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn
Where a little headstone stood;
How the flakes were folding it gently,
As did robins the babes in the wood.

The words in this stanza have echoed in my heart since the snow began falling Sunday afternoon.  I've been visiting Andrew a couple times a week this fall.  Every time I've gone, I would gently sweep the leaves and needles from his headstone.  I like to keep it clean.  Now, it is under twelve inches of snow.  The hill isn't easily accessible in this weather.  How can I leave him up there all alone? 

       As we prepare to join together as a family this weekend, I have this empty feeling in my heart.  My son, the one child who I carried for nine months, the one child who I cared for during his sixteen years, will be on a hill covered in a blanket of snow.  My mind knows it really isn't him, but my heart still feels pain because he is there, alone.

Again I looked at the snowfall,
And thought of the leaden sky
That arched o'er our first great sorrow,
When that mound was heaped so high.

I remembered the gradual patience
That fell from that cloud like snow,
Flake by flake, healing and hiding
The scar of our deep-plunged woe.

I thought I was healing pretty well, but these past few weeks have re-opened the sorrow in my heart..."flake by flake, healing and hiding the scar of our deep-plunged woe."  Lowell knew the pain of burying a child...there really is nothing to compare it to.

And again to the child I whispered,
'The snow that husheth all,
Darling, the merciful Father
Alone can make it fall! '

Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her;
And she, kissing back, could not know
That my kiss was given to her sister,
Folded close under deepening snow.

My son is now residing with our Heavenly Father, but on this first major holiday since his death, I really wish he was here with us rather than being "folded close under deepening snow."

~Andrew's Mom

THAT FOR WHICH I AM THANKFUL

I started to get ready to go to church this morning and had a bit of a panic attack.  Thinking about all the songs and words of praise I would hear this morning, celebrating all for which we are thankful, became more than I could handle.  Tears were on the edge, so I decided I couldn't do it.  How can I, when I am so sad because my son is no longer with me, be thankful for anything?  But I am thankful.  Therefore, instead of singing and praising with others, I will list all for which I am thankful.

• I am thankful for a loving God and the fact that he loved me so much he sent his son to die for my sins.
• I am thankful for God's grace, for without it my life would be full of despair.
• I am thankful I live in a country where I am free.
• I am thankful for all who keep my country free.
• I am thank for a husband who loves me unconditionally.
• I am thankful for three step-children and their families who have allowed me to a part of their lives.
• I am thankful for five beautiful, healthy grandchildren.
• I am thankful for parents and in-laws who instilled a Godly life in our lives.
• I am thankful for my entire extended family, and especially for siblings and siblings-in-law who love me just as I am.
• I am thankful for a wonderful career, where I work with committed professionals who have hearts for children and who are my friends.
• I am thankful for students--past and present-- whom I love, not just as my students but as the people they become.
• I am thankful for my friends.
• I am thankful for a warm home, while it is snowy and cold outside.
• I am thankful for a full freezer.
• I am thankful I live in a beautiful place, where God graces us with four beautiful seasons.

Seems like I have a lot to be thankful for.  And I do and  I am.  That still doesn't take away the sadness I feel today.  However, there are many other things for which I am thankful.

• I am thankful for coaches who love my son almost as much as I do.
• I am thankful for those same coaches who help us remember my Bulldog, whether it is a 55 decal on a helmet or an ADG #40 on basketball shoes.
• I am thankful for teammates and friends of my son who always say hello or wave to me, letting me still be a part of their lives.
• I am thankful for a community who have given in Andrew's name, allowing football players to be warm on cold Friday nights, basketball players to shine in new uniforms, or a young person to experience God's love at Young Life Camp.

I do have a lot to be thankful for.  However, above all, when I visit that beautiful spot on a hill overlooking the valley, I am thankful for my son whom I had for sixteen precious years, and who knew Jesus with whom he now resides with in heaven. 

MY SISTER MARIE

 When I was about eight or nine years old I had a crush on Donny Osmond.  I even wrote him a letter telling him how great it would be if he visited Dayton.  That was back in the days of "Puppy Love" and "Go Away Little Girl."  Then when he teamed up with his younger sister, Marie, I loved the Donny and Marie Show. It would be great to have Marie as my sister-in-law. I was heartbroken (not too badly though) when Donny married his wife and I knew Marie would never be my sister-in-law.  However, this afternoon I realized that Marie and I are sisters, sisters as moms who have lost their sons to suicide.

       As I sat down to watch Oprah this afternoon, I knew it would be emotional, but I wasn't expecting the emotions I feel right now.  Right now I feel a little relieved.  The words that Marie spoke, are the words I needed to hear.  She is feeling the same way I am right now.  Her son took his life eight months ago and mine took his five months ago.  However, her words could have been coming from me. "Your life changes."  "If you stay with the 'what ifs' you will have no life."  "It never gets easier.  God gives you respites, but it never gets easier."  Amen sister. 

       She also said that she will never know just why her son took his life; her words rang so true.  I'll never know why Andrew made the choice he did, but I've come to peace with the fact that I don't want to know.  Will it bring him back?  Will it make my life any easier?  Will it make me love him any less?  No, no, and no.

       Dear Abby also had something to share with me tonight.  "More than 30,000 people take their lives annually.  According to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, more than 80 percent of us will lose someone to suicide during our lives.  This is why the organization sponsors National Survivors of Suicide Day every year on the Saturday before Thanksgiving.  It's a day when surviving parents, children, siblings, spouses, and friends gather and take comfort in being with others who know what it means to lose a loved one to suicide."

       I won't be able to gather with Marie on November 20, but my prayers will be with her.  I don't need a national day to be comforted by others who know what it means to lose a love one to suicide.  All of you who knew and loved Andrew are survivors too.  And your love, support and prayers for me and my family comforts us daily.  My life will never be the same without Andrew, but my life was made better by the fact that he was in my life for sixteen precious years. 

~Andrew's Mom

       

YOUR JOB IN HEAVEN

       I've been thinking about Andrew a lot today.  It has been five months since he left us and I still miss him as much today as I did that day.  His friends and classmates have had a great week and I'm sorry he isn't here to share these successes with them.  The Bulldog football team played with so much heart Tuesday night as they defeated T-O-R and Tri-Cities Prep to take the number four spot in the league.  The Bulldog volleyball team won the district title, earning themselves a ticket to the state tournament.  His best friend Seth received a fourth place medal at the State Cross Country meet.  I know Andrew was watching over them all, but I so wish he could have been here to witness it.  However, I am hearing this little voice in my head saying, "But Mom, I'm busy with my new job...the job I have here in Heaven."
       There was nothing Andrew liked better than helping people.  He wasn't thrilled when I volunteered him for different jobs, but he always did them with a glad heart.  One year, he rode the Columbia County Transportation Bus to and from school.  Dear Donna Laughery was his driver and I knew he was always taken care of when he was with her.  Andrew never told me, but I learned that on some days, when he didn't have anything to do after school, he would ride around with Donna.  On more than one occasion he would help some of the Senior Saints of our community by carrying in their groceries, as he and Donna dropped them off at their homes. 
       Some of his best memories of times with his grandparents involved helping of some sort.  He enjoyed going with Grandpa David to deliver Senior Center meals.  That also included a lunch with Grandma and Grandpa after the deliveries had been completed.  And then there were those days when he spent time with Grandma and Grandpa Bud.  He enjoyed doing whatever they were doing.  Some of the flowers that graced his memorial service were peonies that he had helped Grandpa plant.
        Because of this part of his nature, I know God put him on the greeting committee in Heaven.  His speciality is greeting people from our Valley.  Since he left us, he's greeted some neighbors such as Eldon, Ray, and Jeannie.  Just this week, he was there as Meri and Steve arrived.  These two people he knew from our time at the theater, the year he was in third grade.  Andrew was so much help that year and he really loved working at the theater.
       I wish he wouldn't have been so busy these past five months, but that is a part of the circle of life.  However, it is his other committee work that I like to think of even more.  It brings a smile to my face everytime I think of him escorting the babies of people we love to earth.  I got to spend some cuddle time with his first escortee--Lily--not very long ago.  To hold her--knowing that Andrew was the angel who brought her to this earth--brought such joy to my heart.  And now he's just waiting for the call to tell him that Katy is ready to join Jamie, Curtis, and the kids. 
       So what do you think your job in Heaven will be?  I want to teach, but in Heaven I'll never have to grade another essay or write another test.  I'll just get to teach the things I love.  I know God is allowing Andrew to use his gifts as he does his job, whatever that might be.  But as his TSE instructor said, "I hope God let's him drive."  Me too--whatever job he has I hope he is driving around in Heaven.

~Andrew's Mom