No school-aged kids to teach

School. Here we are again.

August snuck up on me and then ran before I realized it was happening. At the time of writing this we are halfway through the 1st week of the local school districts’ return. Parents bought the backpacks and notebooks and conveniently sharpened Ticonderoga pencils. Then they pleaded and bribed and forced their kids to board that big “National School Bus Glossy Yellow” bus (apparently that’s what they named the color- I looked it up). Meanwhile I sat wishing with every piece of my broken heart that I was teaching my KGR’s.

I loved helping my children learn and finding unique ways to show them new concepts! I introduced multiplication to Kathryn in 1st grade during Easter season. We got a whole bunch of massive Easter eggs and filled them with a preplanned and counted amount of candy. She had to figure out the problem before getting the next clue to the next location of the next egg. “If there is one smartie in each egg and there are ___ eggs, how many rolls of smarties will you have before you finish?” etc. I likely asked a bonus question about the actual number of candies in each roll too. It’s fun for me to geek out and help them have a blast doing it too. I also thought about my Kaleb who was reading during kindergarten that last year. Kristian would be passed where they both were if he were still here, and I would just be starting to teach my Kasper.

The brick wall of emotion slammed into me. Kathryn would be starting 6th grade- middle school. Kaleb would be in 4th and somehow one of the older kids in my children’s ministry room. Kristian would be right on his heels in 3rd and Kasper would officially no longer be “a little” and starting Kindergarten….The longing for this other world takes my breath away.

This past weekend I erupted in grief. Then, on Monday, I needed to do it again. And some on Tuesday morning too. “Shouldn’t this day get easier?” I celebrated another teacher’s coming retirement by helping to make a fun “last first day of school” t-shirt. Why don’t I get to celebrate this milestone with my mom? Some of those within my child loss circle realized that I was about to get hit (because they were too). Others, even those who are familiar with grief, would ask questions similar to “Was there a trigger?” completely unaware.

This very question is the reason that I need to keep writing this blog. I had no framework for the pain of grief before it grabbed a hold of me and slammed into me over and over and over. And I definitely didn’t understand the pain of child loss (which can be so different than other grief). Simply put, you can’t understand what you don’t know, and neither could I, but now I know, I want to share in the best way I can. If you’d like to understand what you don’t know, the closest you can come is by learning what is on the heart of a griever. And although all grief is different, it will lead you closer to those things that we all hope you’ll never fully understand. If you are in my “club”, to you I say sorry and hopefully my words help you to not feel quite as lonely.

I’ll wait right here while you reread that last confusing paragraph.

This is a text that I sent on Monday (the first day of school): “It’s totally okay. We exist in an alternate reality. We would never want you to miss where you’re at to be fully present with us.” The translation is that as much as I don’t want to feel alone, I also don’t want ANYONE to miss the moments that they are in now to prioritize me/us. Time is our most valuable resource. And hopefully what our tragedy (and others’) have shown you all, is that we can never know when the last time will be the last time. Life is fragile. Love where you’re at. Live where you’re at. That is the greatest honor you can give my grieving soul in the name of our KGRs. Be present in all those little moments. “Teach me to number my days” ~Ps 90:12

After you’ve allowed the moment to wash over you, if you still have a spare second, please feel free to shoot me a remembrance text, because we do often feel lonely over here. Praise God that we’re never alone!

This year my heart was especially stuck on “What would they look like?” “What would they be like?” As time progresses it gets harder to imagine how the time would’ve grown our babies. Every picture I saw posted and every child I ran into I thought things like “He’s the same age as my Kaleb”, “she falls right in between Kasper and Kristian” or “gosh, that’s what a 6th grader looks like? I can’t even contemplate a developing Kathryn”. For a while I tried to find a free app that might age them to where they’d be today. I’m not sure what I hoped that would accomplish- more accurate longing? Upon failing at that task, I realized that imagining them here today where they “should” be made things harder for me. They were never going to be 11, 9, 8, and 5. As tears fall down my face at that realization, I simultaneously understand that they are larger in their death then they ever could’ve been in their life. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for continuing to help grow them in memory as they were! Imagining my babies as they were on 2/10/22 and sharing Jesus through their story will help us picture them as they truly are now- larger than (this) life!

I know that I have shared in the past, but it bears repeating. On grief days, dates, and seasons what truly helps is doing things in their honor. I think next year my twins will be old enough that I can run away to the beach on that 1st day of school in honor of the freedom that comes in heaven and also in homeschooling. My mom would absolutely love this idea!

We’re cheering you all on from over here as you navigate this school year in the ways that you are called to do- remember that no matter where you are, and in which way you choose to educate your children, God’s purposes for you and them are beautiful! Empower them to be His light as you move forward into the unknown, and remember to “Keep Going, really!” Kathyrn, Kaleb, Kristian, and Kasper are cheering you on from the BEST seats

Signed

~A longing mama