BLAME

       Blame is a very powerful word.  Blame has been thrown around a lot lately, especially in light of the shootings in Tuscon. Blame is one of those words that can be used as a verb or as a noun.  As a verb, it means to hold responsible; find fault with; censure.  As a noun, it is an act of attributing fault; censure; reproof.  Blame...blame...blame...
      From some this week, I have heard that the tone of the political rhetoric in our country is to blame for what happened last Saturday.  For others it is the extreme ends of both the left and the right in our country.  But think about it.  Who is really to blame for the shootings in Tuscon last Saturday?  It was the young man who thought about this, who planned it, and who pulled the trigger.  He is the one to blame for that heinous act that took six lives.
     On Facebook tonight I saw this posting:
To everyone who is calling for stricter gun laws in light of the tragedy in Tucson, may I offer this little tidbit: If guns kill people, then pencils misspell words, cars drive drunk, and spoons make people fat. Remember: HOLD THE PERSON ACCOUNTABLE FOR THEIR ACTIONS, not the means they chose to utilize!!!
I agree with this.  We must not blame all the negative things in our society for the action of one disturbed young man.  However, there are some things in all of our lives for which we need to take responsibility.
       When you speak to your neighbors, do you focus on the negative things in our world or do you try to talk about what is positive in our world?  When dealing with your children, are you allowing them to be the best they can be or are you trying to make them into someone they are not?  Are you supportive of them or hypercritical of them?  Or do you ignore your children, selecting your activities and plans over spending time with them?  Do you do things for others just because it is the right thing to do or because you hope to get something out of it?  Do you appreciate the fact we live in a country where we can worship God in a manner of our choosing or are you critical of others because they don't do it the way you think they should?  Do you cherish the fact that we can be critical of our political leaders without worrying about the government imprisoning you?  Are you proud of who you are, where you live, or what you do with your life?
       Blame has been a phantom shadowing me since June 7th.  My son did something for which I know I must put the responsibility on him, but it doesn't make me stop blaming myself too.  Another sweet soul took his life during this past week.  His family and friends were also told not to blame themselves for his action.  However, it isn't that easy.  The parents of the young man who shot and killed people in Tuscon will be taking some of his blame on their shoulders too.  The neighbor who took Christina Taylor Green to the "Congress on your Corner" is blaming herself.  The mother of a sixteen year old who took his life is blaming herself.  It's what we do. 
       Remember what The Bible said about trying to blame others for the wrongs done to us or that are in our world.  Think about Christ, as He hung on the cross, just about to leave this earthly world.

“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing. Luke 23:34.

We must allow people to be responsible for their actions.  We must not blame the media, pundants, or society in general for unexplained actions of people who are in fragile mental states of mind.  However, we must encourage and love those who feel it necessary to shoulder some of the blame for the actions of loved ones.  In the end, we really just need to love each other for we are all a part of the family of God.

      

~Andrew's Mom

EAU DE ANDREW

       Odors are very powerful emotional stimuli, explains Bruce Turetsky, a University of Pennsylvania associate psychiatry professor. In fact, he says, different scents may "have a greater ability to bring up an emotional memory in you than seeing a picture or hearing a voice." 

 

       I'm a big believer in the power of smells.  My mind immediately goes to another place and time when I smell a specific odor.  The girls locker room of the Dayton High School gym has the exact same smell as it did the first time I walked into it as a freshman in the fall of 1974.  A whiff of musk cologne and I am transported back to the summer of 1980 when I traveled through Europe with a group of fellow students, one of whom bathed in that particular cologne.  Cinnamon rolls always take me back to school lunches:  chili and cinnamon rolls. 

       For a week now I've had the cold/crud that has been visiting the valley since the middle of December.  My sense of smell has been non-existent until this afternoon.  I worked two days this week, but at the end of yesterday I gave up.  I needed sleep without the hack of my friend the cough, so I took pills and cough syrup last night and slept until 10 AM today.  Once I finally got around to it, I took a nice hot shower.  Oh joy!  I could breath again without coughing after a deep breath.  I felt human again.  So, I decided I would change sheets and start living life again.  I walked into Andrew's room to get clean sheets and WHAM!  It hit me.  Andrew's room no longer smelled like Andrew. 

       Now, for those who don't have boys living in their homes, boys smell different than girls.  Andrew had good hygiene, it was just that he was a boy.  His smell was the smell of his body wash (thank God it was an Old Spice brand and not Axe!).  It was the smell of his socks after practice.  It was the whiff of gas after he had been on his four-wheeler or mowing a lawn.  All of his activity added up to a smell that was definitely "Eau de Andrew."  But when I walked into his room today, that smell was barely there.  I stood in the middle of his room for a minute and really concentrated.  There!  I smell it!!  It's still here, but barely. 

       Friday will mark the seventh month since that June day that changed my life.  There are many things around my house that makes me feel like Andrew is still a part of our lives.  There are pictures in each room.  There are shadow boxes with jerseys, dance pictures with dried boutonnieres, pictures, hats, and golf balls in them.  His letterman's jacket still hangs in the closet.  His basketballs still fill the muck bucket in the back room.  His spirit still fills my heart.  Panic overcame me for a moment this afternoon when my senses weren't overwhelmed by his essence in his room.  I think I am afraid the day will come and I won't feel him as near to me as I feel him right now.  But that really won't happen.  How can I think that I will ever forget that soul whose body was a part of my body for nine months and a part of my life for sixteen years?

       As I've said before, my mind knows he is a great place, but my heart wishes he was with us instead.  I wish I would have known the depth of his pain.  I wish I wouldn't have been so busy with my life. I just wish I could have a re-do.  But I know I can't, so I continue to live my life.  I will try to work on the list I've created for my 2011 resolutions.  And I will continue to go into Andrew's room, hoping for a whiff that brings back a strong memory of the boy I love so much.

2010--IN MEMORIAM

       A lot of people I know died in 2010.  From my childhood: Art Linklater ("Kids Say the Darnest Things"), Barbara Billingsley (The Beaver's mom), Fess Parker (Davy Crockett & Daniel Boone) and Tom Bosley (Mr. C) all left us.  From the world of sports: Sparky Anderson, Don Meredith, and Merlin Olson are gone.  And of course--"My, Oh My"--Dave Niehaus's voice has been silenced.    Even Rocky & Bullwinkle and Archie's creators died this year.  For me, each of these people had a place in my life; however, it is the passing of Andrew David Groom that saddens me the most this New Year's Eve.
       At this time last year, if someone would have told me how my life would be changed by one event from June 7, 2010, I would never have believed it.  Not my child.  Not Andrew.  If I've learned one thing from his death, I've learned that one can never tell your loved ones how much you love them enough.  Hug your kid.  Tell him or her that you love them, no matter how old he or she may be.  Don't have doubts as to whether he knew that you loved him. 
       There is a song that one may hear on the local country radio station.  The chorus goes something like this...

"Be a best friend, tell the truth, and overuse 'I Love You'

Go to work, do your best, don't outsmart your common sense,
Never let your praying knees get lazy
And love like crazy."

       I think that will be my list of New Year's Resolutions. 

• Be a best friend--to new ones and old ones;
• Tell the truth--even when it hurts, but tell it with kindness;
• Overuse I love you;
• Go to work-even though it reminds of you of what has been lost;
• Do your best--even when all you want to do is nothing;
• Don't outsmart my common sense--it's God's voice speaking;
• Never let my praying knees get lazy--God is always with me and He is listening;
• Love like crazy--mainly because you know you are loved, even when you feel all alone.

Bill and I spent some time with Andrew today.  We swept the snow from his stone and rearranged all the things the storm had moved from the memorial we have created for our son.  So as 2010 ended, we spent one more moment with Andrew.  We feel his presence and miss him so much as we begin a new year without him.
       So I'll end this last entry of 2010 with a thought that I wrote in many thank you letters.  Even though I feel profound sorrow at the passing of Andrew, I also feel profound joy at being called to be his mother.  What a gift he was to us.

Here's to a Blessed 2011--Cheers
~Andrew's Mom

CHRISTMAS IN HEAVEN

       It's Christmas Eve and my house is quiet.  It looks like Christmas, but it just doesn't feel right.  There are a few presents under the tree.  There are Christmas cookies on the counter.  There are Christmas cards hanging in the arch.  What is missing is my sixteen year old son sleeping in his bed.  I'm sitting here--still wondering after six months--how can he really be gone?  How could he not have known how much we loved him?  How could this have happened?
       Our friends have been so wonderful this Christmas season.  We have witnessed God's love in acts of kindness as they help us deal with our first Christmas without Andrew.  Some have given us words of comfort; some have given us things to honor and remember him.

Christmas in Heaven

'Tis Christmas in Heaven,

What a beautiful sight,

and I want you to know that everything is all right.

I've met all our dear ones who preceded us here.

The reunion was lovely,

An event full of cheer.

I think of my family that I left behind,

and I pray that your Christmas is as blessed as mine.

Please shed no more tears for my soul is at rest.

Just love one another and live life to its best.

Yes, it's Christmas in Heaven so I've heard them say...

Yet, Christmas in Heaven happens every day.

Merry Christmas from Heaven

I still hear the songs, I still see the lights,

I still feel your love on cold wintery nights.

I still share your hopes and all of your cares,

I'll even remind you to please say your prayers.

I just want to tell you, you still make me proud,

You stand head and shoulders above all the crowd.

Keep trying each moment, to stay in His Grace.

I came here before you to help set your place.

You don't have to be perfect all the time,

He forgives you the slip, if you continue the climb.

To my family and friends,

Please be thankful today,

I'm still close beside you,

In a new special way.

I love you all dearly,

Now don't shed a tear,

Cause I'm spending my Christmas with Jesus this year.

My faith and my brain tell me this is all true.  But for my heart, I wonder how many more pieces it can break into. 

Dear Jesus--please give my boy a hug for me today.  Kiss him gently on the forehead and tell him how much I love him, today and always. Then give him a whack on the back of the head and remind him I have many things to say to him when we meet again.

~Andrew's Mom

OUR 2010 CHRISTMAS CARD

      During this week I will mail the last of this year's family Christmas card.  It is the first card since 1994 that Andrew hasn't been a part of it.  I almost didn't do a card, but I went back to the statement that has ruled my life this fall--what is your new "normal"?  My new normal, as I have been reminded as our family moves on, is a life and now, a Christmas card photo without Andrew. 
      Honestly, most of the time I still can't believe he is gone.  As we put the bathroom back together after its recent facelift, I finally cleaned out his side of the medicine cabinet.  I finally tossed his body wash from the shower.  But still I feel his presence so much I think I can reach out and hug him.
       So even though I am having a really tough time going through December without my son, December is going on anyway.  Therefore, we did do a 2010 Christmas card.  It is a beautiful card, thanks to dear Tracy who took precious pictures of the kids as they spent a fun snowy, rainy day at Gigi and Papa's.  And even though I know that I am still a part of this family, the part that I added to the equation isn't in the picture this year.  He resides in our hearts and in Heaven, but I really wish he was in our 2010 Christmas card.

Merry Christmas

~Andrew's Mom

HE DIDN'T SAY GOOD-BYE

       Six months ago my life changed forever.  The day was June 7th and it was a typical last week of school Monday.  My seniors had graduated the previous Friday , so my week looked pretty easy.  My mind was on my things so I didn't notice my son.  On that last day, when I left for school, he was in the shower.  I yelled at him, "I'll pick you up at 3:30 p.m."  All he said was, "O.K." He didn't say good-bye.
       Let's go back to the Friday before his death.  It was graduation Friday for me, so I was very preoccupied with finishing all the little touches that go into making a graduation a success.  We went out to dinner before we left for Waitsburg and I tried to talk Andrew into coming with us.  But he didn't want to, so he told us he would just walk home.  As he walked away I watched him.  I said to myself, "He looks so sad."  I play that picture over in my head--sadness personified.
       I've read all types of books during the past six months on suicide and death.  They have given me an insight into death, but these books haven't taken away the pain that I feel so acutely today.  I miss him so much.  I've spent the day in the house, the house where he spent his last minutes.  I've tried to do a few things today, but I can't.  I wonder if this was the type of sadness he was feeling.  People who have suffered with depression tell me about the deepness of the pit of dispair.  My pit is pretty deep today.  The difference between Andrew's pit and my pit is that I see away out of it.  He didn't.
       Today, Andrew is not feeling that darkness.  His life is in the presence of ultimate light--God and his precious Son.  Therefore, I am remembering the light that was in my life for sixteen years.  I see the smile on his face. I see joy in his heart.  I see the love he had for his friends and family. 

Be of good courage,

And He shall strengthen your heart,

All you who hope in the Lord.

~Psalm 31:24

I do have hope in the Lord; however, I really wish he would have said, "Good-bye."

~Andrew's Mom

REAL MEN WEAR PINK

       Tonight the Bulldogs played their first basketball game of this 2010-2011 season. The team wore new uniforms tonight, thanks to the kindness of people who gave donations in Andrew's name.  Both the JV and the varisty boys won.  All of this happened without Andrew; however, there were pieces of him in the gym. 
       A #40 jersey hangs over the locker room door, a reminder of a teammate who is no longer with the team physically, but whose spirit takes the floor every time those boys leave that locker room.  On the side of the boys' basketball shoes is a sticker that also serves as a reminder of a missing piece of the team--ADG 40.  These are reminders the team chose to do to remember Andrew.
       Bill and I also wanted to give each varsity basketball player something to remember Andrew.  In Andrew's closet hang beautiful dress shirts with matching ties that, still tied, hang on his gun rack.  However, some of those shirts were worn only once or twice.  Andrew liked his black shirt with his pink tie the best.  I would iron all of his shirts, have them hanging in his closet, ready to be worn on home game days.  However, Andrew would continue to go back to his favorite black shirt and pink tie.  And on the home game days when he didn't wear the pink tie, he would allow some of his teammates to borrow his favorite tie.  After Andrew's death, I thought that I might give his shirts and ties away; but, they still hang in his room to this day.  Jacob asked to borrow his pink tie for Homecoming and for a moment I almost told him just to keep it.  I was happy when he returned it, so I decided I wanted each of his teammates to have their own pink ties.
       On the day Roy selected the varsity team, we asked him to give each varsity player a box.  As he passed out the boxes, we asked him to read the following:

Dear Varsity Bulldog Basketball Team~

Once you had a teammate who loved being a Bulldog.  One of his proudest moments came last year when he came home to tell us that he had made the varsity team.  Tonight you have the same joy—knowing that you will represent Dayton High School as our varsity team.  Many nights we would grumble after a game because we felt he hadn’t played enough.  His answer to us was always the same—“My job is to help the team, whether it is on the floor for many quarters or whether it is supporting the team from the bench.  Roy, Mr. Strong, and Mingsy know what is best and how best I can help this team.” He just wanted to play basketball and he was proud to be your teammate.

Once you had a teammate who had a pink tie.  It was the first tie he bought when he became a Bulldog basketball player.  He loved wearing that pink tie with his black shirt.  He also shared that tie with some of you, so you could experience wearing that pink tie.

Tonight we give each of you your own pink tie.  Wear it or place it in a drawer.  Please do with it as you wish.  However, remember that once you had a teammate named Andrew who loved playing basketball with you. 

Bulldog Born.  Bulldog Bred.

Tonight, when we walked into the gym, we saw handsome young men, wearing black shirts and pink ties.  These same handsome young men played a tough, physical game, winning the first of what, we hope, will be many games this season.  After the game, each varsity player came to shake Bill's hand, give me a wonderful sweaty hug, and tell us thanks for coming to the game.  In return, we want to tell them thanks. Thanks for honoring our son in so many ways, but especially, for wearing pink ties.

~Andrew's Mom