LIFE'S NOT THE BREATH YOU TAKE

But life's not the breath you take, the breathing in and out
That gets you through the day, ain't what it's all about
You just might miss the point trying to win the race
Life's not the breaths you take but the moments that take your breath away

I love almost every song George Strait sings; however, lately I seem to be living one particular song.  I am getting my breathe taken away in unexpected times and in unexpected ways. 
       I was working at school the other day, just sitting at my desk grading some papers.  Suddenly, on my computer screen was a picture of Andrew and his friend, Samura.  They were outside her home before they left for the Sadie Hawkins dance.  He came across so larger than life on that screen.  He was smiling.  His eyes were smiling.  He felt so real to me.  I literally lost my breathe for a moment.  Then I remembered that he was gone.  It took me a moment or two before I could move.  I suddenly lost all motivation for reading another paper.

       This afternoon I stopped by my sister-in-law's salon.  On the counter was this list of people.  It was a pretty wide list--three columns wide and a full page of names.  Suddenly I realized it was a list of all the people who had died in Columbia County during the past year--May 2010 to May 2011.  Towards the top of the page, in the first column, there he was. Andrew David Groom--16.  I literally froze for a moment and lost my breath, as if someone had kicked me in the stomach.  There it was in black and white. My son's name on a list of the dead of Columbia County.

       For the next two weeks, I think I will be breathing in and out, just getting through the day.   Life's not the breaths you take, but the moments that take your breath away. 

~Andrew's Mom

I SAW GOD TODAY

This is a very busy time of year for me. I work 8-10 hours at school and then I work in my sleep for who knows how long?  I remember aspects of my dreams, but I feel the anxiety of whatever I dreamt about for hours after.  Last night's highlight--I forgot to get the scholarship information to the principal for the graduation ceremony.  My heart is still beating a little fast right now.
       Last night was the first night of "Senior Exit Interviews."  At my school we have academic advisory.  For four years, teachers work with a specific group of students on their goals--academic, citizenship, and career--plus we try to help them see what may be in their future.  Last night I met with the first half of my kids for the final time.  I was not prepared for the level of emotion I felt during each conference.  As I sat there listening to them talk about their final grades, their Senior Projects, and where they stood for the next two weeks, I felt extreme pride for the young men and women they have grown into.  And all of a sudden, they are so grown up!
       This class has a very special place in my heart.  For many, they knew Andrew as a small boy.  They attended Judy's Day Care with him.  They played soccer, t-ball, and basketball with him.  They also shared my grief last June, as their teacher wasn't with them in the classroom for the last week of school.  They did everything I wanted them to do and more, even though I wasn't with them.  This year they have shown kindness and love towards me as we have traveled through this very special year for them.  They were aware of my tenderness and for the most part, they protected me from so much.  Whether they know it or not, they have shown God's love to me all year long.  Now believe me, I know they have complained about me at times this year and I have had my moments with them as well.  However, in the end, it really has been a great senior year for them and for me.
       During one of our exit interviews, I sat across the table from a mom and a daughter whose love for each other is palpable.  When you are with them, you know they really love each other.  As I watched them talk about the end of this young lady's high school career, I realized that this seemed pretty normal.  However, the three of us share a life today that we would never have imagined a year ago.  Not much about our lives are normal these days.  Important people in our lives are no longer with us, because of their choice, not ours.  As I looked at the joy in the daughter's face and the pride on the mother's face, I thought this is God's grace.  Just as God has allowed Bill and me to go on and live our lives, God is allowing this mother and daughter to live their lives and celebrate this special accomplishment.  Sadness still is our companion, yet God takes His arms and wraps us in His love, letting us remember the good things in our lives rather than dwelling on what we have lost.
       As I shared one more time with each student and his/her family, I thought how can anyone doubt God's existence when one looks on the faces of these young people who have just accomplished one goal, looking towards the future with such hope.  I saw God today.

~Andrew's Mom

THE SOUNDS OF SILENCE

       We all know how our senses can act as memory makers.  Sights, smells, touch, taste...those things can bring memories flooding back to our minds.  I've already written about Andrew's smell and how I try to get a whiff of it whenever I walk into his room.  However, the sense that has been around me this weekend is the sense of sound.
      One of Andrew's friends sent me a message this week, sharing how he has been thinking about him a lot.  He shared one particular memory that has been on my mind since I read it.

 "I miss hearing his shoes squeak as he would run through the door trying to beat the tardy bell."

       Yep, that's my boy.  Always running in at the last minute.  Being early was one thing Bill and I could not instill in him.  Another dear friend sent me a message saying she missed seeing him running to catch the bus. 
       But let's go back to the sound.  Andrew found these really great shoes last year.  He loved those shoes, but one day he got them wet and from that moment on, they squeaked.  No matter what we did to them, they squeaked.  Andrew would put the shoes away for awhile because the squeak bothered him, but he said those shoes felt so great he would just be squeaky until he couldn't take it any longer--then the shoes would go back into the closet.
       After Hendrix left yesterday our house was very quiet.  I noticed it immediately.  It was such a lonely sound.  My heart broke a little more as I stood in the middle of my house hearing the silence.
       Four weeks from today will mark the first anniversary of Andrew's death.  I remember the silence in the house as Bill and I walked in, looking for him.  I think about the sound of my phone calls breaking the silence that had taken over our house that day.  I reflect on my life without Andrew as I stand by his grave on the hill overlooking town.  The sounds of silence.
       I had a dream about him last night.  I came home and found him still sleeping.  Oh how I wish that was true.  I was so elated when I touched his shoulder and he woke up.  He looked so handsome. I even smelt him.  However, there were no sounds to this dream.  The sounds of silence.
~Andrew's Mom

WHAT TO SAY?

This weekend has been difficult for me.  It started Friday afternoon when Hendrix gave me a "Grandmother--Mother's Day" card.  I read the words aloud to her and by the middle of the poem I was in tears.  I knew I was dreading this weekend, my first Mother's Day in seventeen years without my son, but I didn't know how tender I had become.  I had lots of fun things scheduled to do this weekend, but I immediately knew some of them would have to happen without me.  The tears are back and they come with little warning--this is not a good thing when you are in public.
     So I spent Friday evening working on my message for the WHS Class of 2011's Baccalaureate service.  But what do I say to them? 
     It has been a year of extreme highs (lots of success on the athletic fields and in the classroom) and extreme lows (controversies, deaths, general teenage stress).  I want the message to be one of faith and hope. 
      So please pray that the words they need to hear are the words I write.  Pray for strength for me as I share my heart and for them as they hear the words.  Pray for open ears and open hearts.  Please pray for me and for the WHS Class of 2011.

~Andrew's Mom

THE TIES THAT BIND

Hendrix was at her wisest this weekend.  I think she can see my thoughts on my face.  We were driving back from school on Friday and I hear this small, "You miss him."  It was such a quiet statement I almost missed it.  I looked in the rear view mirror and said, "What did you say?"  She quietly replied, "You miss Andrew, don't you?"  A lump instantly formed in my throat and I said, "Yes, honey, I do.  Every minute of every day I miss him."  The kids in my life are so busy--track, baseball, softball, and this weekend, prom.  Just a year ago Andrew went to prom.  This year, everyone went and he wasn't there.
       Friday Hendrix and I went over to watch the W-P softball team play Dayton.  As we were going to the field, I saw some of the baseball boys getting ready for practice.  I saw Wyatt first and whipped around to talk to him.  Bill and I had seen him driving to school earlier in the day.  Yes, it was the first day for him.  He had just got his license the day before.  Then Garett and Hayden pulled in.  Colton popped out from behind the fence.  It did my heart good to see the boys.  I hadn't seen them much since basketball ended.  I miss them.
       Saturday saw Hendrix and me making another trip to the fields, this time to watch the W-P baseball team play Dayton.  As we passed the football field, Hendrix asked when football would start.  I told her as soon as our summer vacation was over, it would be time for football.  "Since we don't have Andrew anymore, who will we watch?"   I reminded her about the boys we had just visited with the day before.  "We will watch Hayden, Colton, Garett, Wyatt, Kroft, Joey, and the rest of the boys."  "Oh," she said.  "Okay, I want football to come soon." 
       I thought about her thinking process the rest of the day.  She doesn't see Andrew as a member of a group, but as her uncle who is gone.  I still see Andrew with the boys.  When I see them, I look for him.  I think about the evening of the Spring Sports banquet, last June 1.  After the dinner, Roy and Clayton had a meeting with the boys about summer basketball plans.  At the end of the meeting, Colton turned to Andrew and extended his hand, helping him up off the floor where he had been sitting.  I think of that image so often.  Andrew must have felt alone, yet all he had to do was to look around and one of the boys would have extended a helping hand to him.  So many would have, if we would have only known.
       The ties that are pictured at the beginning of this entry are in his room, hanging in the same spot where he left them after basketball season ended.  Notice that many of them are still tied.  Notice his beloved pink tie--now my beloved pink tie.  Whether the boys know it or not, they have a tie that binds them to Bill and to me.  They will always be a part of our lives.  We will support them in all ways, at all times.  It is a tie to Andrew that we are not quiet ready to let go of.  I'm not sure if we every will be.

~Andrew's Mom