The Small Notebook

August 1, 2016 / djuanadreed / Leave a comment

There are moments that make you smile and moments that make you cry when you are a grieving mother. It is how it is. Some weeks more tears come than smiles. Some weeks you can keep the tears at bay. In reflection, you can instantly feel guilty that you were okay that week.

I reached into my nightstand drawer to jot down a “To Do”. You know, one of those things that you remember and then forget unless you write it down. This time I was going to have something in front of me to make sure I did the “To Do” instead of losing it in the mix of my busy mind juggling days. Out I pulled a small notebook that I hadn’t looked inside of in a very long time. I had forgotten what was inside until I opened it. Well, that won’t do to write a note in, I thought. I dug some more, found something available to write on and jotted my ‘To Do’ down.

Later, when I went back into my bedroom, I saw the notebook still sitting on top of my nightstand. I opened it and smiled. I had forgotten I had done this. I had put this little notebook aside many years ago- stuffed in drawers and boxes and yet there it was-still in tact. A moment of smiles had just crossed my path. Now, do I want to read further?

It is a tiny journal I kept that I wrote to the kids in as they grew.

When they were tiny, I wrote on their calendars of all their milestones and then some. First smiles, first words, rolling over, standing up and when their first tooth appeared. I wrote notes to them telling them what they were like at that age. Later I moved over to writing it down somewhere else. This was one of those somewhere elses.

Inside a photo of me, young and smiling, was placed between the pages. Look at me! I thought. There aren’t as many pictures of me since I was always the one behind the camera. Wonderful memories emerged as I leafed through the notebook. Memories I didn’t remember as well- small intricate details of their accomplishments, fits they threw, where we went, what we did.

Bria was and still is such a character. She was my first live doll. My first project as a mother. We didn’t have a car. We were together all day every day. Braden was Bria’s first live doll. I would catch her trying to lift him up to hold him without my help or put her plastic doll’s bottle in his mouth. I was amazed that he instinctively knew the sound to make as he pushed a toy car across the floor. He slept and ate with a basketball and was trying to fix and take things apart at a very young age.

Then in May of 1996, I wrote: Riley is Here!

And the curves of my smile turned downward and a lump in my throat developed. I read through it. I smiled as the memories popped out from the pages. Remembering my sweet baby boy despite the lump and rapid heart beat happening at the same time. He was a joy from the start who was always smiling. He was an easy baby. He made our family complete.

Smiles, tears, anger, broken heart, the joy of having him in my life for 18 years, the pain that he is not here anymore….those are the emotions that come and go in moments. Facing the emotions are important to keep yourself healthy when you are grieving. Tears cleanse. Tears wipe us out. Smiles give us a break. Smiles give our hearts a jump start. Smiles can make us cry again.

All of the emotions are here to stay til the day that I die. I wouldn’t have any of them unless I loved him with all of my heart. That I do.

I Love You, Riley.

Grief sucks.

May 29, 2016May 29, 2016 / djuanadreed / Leave a comment

Grief sucks. A parent’s loss of a child doesn’t compare to any other loss. I’m telling you it’s true. Right now my pain is worse than ever. May has been hard. This is the second May since Riley died. It feels rougher than the last. Maybe I got better at not concentrating on my grief and it has hit harder. Maybe I got better at keeping myself distracted. Maybe my life has been fuller this past year with my own business, finishing a basement, a birth of a grand-daughter and more. Maybe I am more awake and less numb at the two-year mark of his birthday and his death.

I can’t get away from the grief in my life. It is in my face every time I sit still. If I only could not be still, but I have to be still sometimes. It’s the worst when I try to go to sleep. I lay there and my grief, my loss eats at me and gnaws on my heart. It hurts. It is miserable. I hate it.

In the mornings it can be just as bad when I open my eyes. Some days I have a project or a place to be that I can concentrate on and then, at some point…I have to be still again. And there it is, the black clouds creeping over me and parking themselves on top of me, covering me from the sunshine. Tears like rain fall.

I just want my boy back with his smile, his humor, to hear his voice say, “I love you, Mom”.

In the club of parents who have lost a child we did not ask to be a part of, but were thrown into without permission, we have lost parents who have given in to the pain. They have quit the club to join their children. It is sad. It makes me angry that they quit. Yet, I get it. The pain must stop then. This emotional pain is awful. I have never lived with physical pain that I couldn’t eventually relieve. The emotional pain of grief can be shoved to the side in the midst of a day, but it’s always there waiting for you and it’s not going anywhere.

My son should still be alive. I don’t know why it had to happen to him. Why did Riley have to try LSD that night? Why couldn’t circumstances have been different to keep him from trying it? I don’t know. It happened. There is no rewind.

I spoke a lot this month to adults and teens. Each time I tell his story, I relive how special he was, how much I miss and love him and also the details of how he died. It’s not easy. Knowing a person might be impacted by his story and make a different decision than Riley did keeps me sure that this is what I am supposed to be doing despite the pain.

Grief sucks. Life doesn’t have to suck. I feel that I have to live to tell his story. I have to carry this pain. I have to grieve because there is no way around it. Living means more than grieving. My job is to savor the moments like finding lady bugs on my apple tree leaves and enjoying the site despite also discovering the cedar rust at the same time. That’s life.

I am thankful for that hug that reaches into my soul and lets it rest for a minute. For the hour on a hammock in the dark, under the moon, staring at the stars and feeling a peace that Riley is safely tucked in the heavens. For the sweet grand baby in my arms. For that phone call from my son. For that message from my daughter. Living for dancing in the kitchen, tasting a new food, experiencing something randomly new. For learning something I didn’t know. For the smiles and belly laughs that come to me.

Riley savored new sights and experiences.

I am thankful to be able to hear Riley’s voice in that video, his thrill in the sight of a rainbow on the beach in Hawaii that felt so close that we could touch it. I am reminded to be thankful that there is something else around the corner that will challenge me to be better, do better, grow and thrive in some way. Those are the good things and the reason I am here.

Grief sucks. Life doesn’t have to suck. (Somebody remind me of this later.)

I Love You, Riley.

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Thanksgiving Traditions

December 1, 2015 / djuanadreed / Leave a comment

I kicked into gear the day before Thanksgiving. I grocery shopped, picked up the house, dusted, mopped, and cleaned out the refrigerator as if it was going to be magically loaded up with leftovers the next day. I baked a pie.

At the end of the day, as I washed the last of the dishes I had used, the memories of Thanksgivings gone by snuck up and flooded my mind. Part of those Thanksgivings isn’t on earth anymore. He was a part of what made each holiday special.

My eyes welled up with tears, my heart twisted up in knots and I cried with my hands still in the soapy water holding a dish in one hand and wash rag in the other. As if my hands couldn’t leave the water, I leaned my forehead on the edge of the sink and cried. I stood up with my hands still in the water and stared out the kitchen window into the dark trying to find composure. I didn’t find it. More rounds of tears came. I washed the snot from my nose on the sleeve of my shirt as I lifted my arm up with water dripping down it. I returned to washing the dishes in the sink and continued to cry.

Eventually the dishes were washed, the sink drained and my hands were dried.

Dishes were clean but my heart is not. My heart has been damaged with cracks that run to a gaping hole in me. There will be no more Thanksgivings with Riley. Thanksgivings will never be the same. I worked very hard at making traditions and memories for holidays for the kids as they grew up.

Here in Kentucky I was doing the tradition of preparing for Thanksgiving though there wouldn’t be a brood of family coming in the door. My memories are of cleaning and preparing for a house full of family- trying to keep in front of kids dropping their things in freshly cleaned rooms and adding to the dishes to wash, being up early to peel potatoes and put the turkey in the oven.

Riley coming through the kitchen asking what kind of pies would we have. He liked pumpkin pie. Yes, there would be a pumpkin pie, but Grandma was bringing it along with three other kinds of pies. Braden’s humor and goofiness on Thanksgivings was a staple. Bria dragging herself out of bed just in time to shower before family got there. A day off from swim practice or work meant sleep for her.

Per tradition, the morning of Thanksgiving we had cinnamon rolls. I talked to Braden on the phone on Thanksgiving morning this year as he was eating a cinnamon roll. I didn’t ask, but it seems he was keeping to tradition. I like that. That’s what the traditions that I made sure that we had are supposed to do. To be carried on as they grow older and have their own homes.

My mind flashed to the family gatherings of aunts and uncles, cousins, my Mom who has been gone almost 7 years now – missing her homemade rolls, her smile and loving open arms. I thought of Aunt Una who has been gone 6 years. Watching Aunt Una enjoy the taste and smell of the holidays was a treat.

Those Thanksgivings are gone. I mourn them. I mourn what I have had. I wish I wasn’t mourning. I don’t want to mourn. I don’t want the pain. I am mad that I have this grief that I cannot shed. I give myself permission to mourn though permission doesn’t stop the pain. It is here to stay.

I have not forgotten to be thankful. I am thankful for my cabin, Bert laying by my feet, new friends and the health and happiness of my family. I am thankful that I wake up every day, that I have work with new opportunities opening up before me that bring on personal challenges and growth. I am thankful that I had Riley for the years that I did. I am not without thanks.

I am without Riley. That I cannot be thankful for.

In my leap of faith to move to Kentucky, there has been much to be thankful for and yet I miss my kids. I ache to hold all three of them. The tears come from the realization that space keeps me from them. I cannot hold Riley ever again-the space between us is far too great and it’s just not fair!

This Thanksgiving I followed traditions without realizing it. I was able to create new traditions. The one personal Thanksgiving tradition I kept with tenacity, dedication, persistence, and single-mindedness was completed. I ate my pie for breakfast each morning until it was gone.

I Love You, Riley.

Always Be Yourself

May 18, 2015 / djuanadreed / 2 Comments

Riley and his best buddy.

Batman to the rescue with a little Star Wars help.

Riley’s ID badge for his NAU tour

Batman didn’t want his picture taken.

One of the things Riley is remembered for is encouraging others to accept themselves. That it is okay to be different. To love what makes you, You.

One of my favorite stories about Riley (and there are many) is that a friend of his was having a bad day. She was upset. He said, “You need a hug.” She said, “I am too big, you can’t pick me up.” He proved her wrong. He picked her up and he hugged her. He lifted her up in more ways than one with that hug.

Always Be Yourself! Be proud to be the Superhero that you are!

I Love You, Riley.

Mom’s Sugar Cookies

January 13, 2015January 13, 2015 / djuanadreed / Leave a comment

I was blessed with a wonderful mother. She was simple, selfless, sensitive and she loved with her whole heart. I am the oldest of five. We grew up with homemade dinner on the table every night. My Dad sat and she served him. No matter if she was sick or had a long day, she stood in the kitchen and made her family something to eat. I have very few memories of take out meals or visits to a restaurant. Mom put all five of us in the station wagon and went grocery shopping. I can’t imagine five kids in tow while trying to grocery shop. She sewed. She made me new clothes for dates, prom and even created my wedding dress, bridesmaid dresses, flower girl and train bearers’ dresses. She mowed the yards. Clean laundry hung from a clothesline out back. She taught Sunday School to three year olds. She was a good wife and mother.

We have our favorite foods she made. Even my kids talk about Grandma’s cooking to this day. For the life of me, I’m not so sure what it was about her food. She didn’t make fancy dishes…….I wonder if it was the love that was served in her meals that everyone ate up and remembers.

One of the traditions we had growing up was making sugar cookies with Mom. They were not too sweet, fluffy not hard, just right. We rolled the dough out with flour and a rolling pin. We used cookie cutters, pressed them into the dough and placed them on a cookie sheet. We ate the remnants of the dough. She told us not to, we still did it. We decorated the cookies with her homemade icing and then we ate them. She continued the sugar cookie tradition with her grandchildren. I can picture my children, nieces and nephews up on bar stools covered in flour making sugar cookies with Grandma like it was just yesterday.

My mom died six years ago today. The call from my Dad, the feeling of Mom suddenly gone still runs through me. It was unexpected. Mom was young. She went to sleep and did not wake up. The sting of the loss of my mother remains. I still think to tell her things today as if she is a phone call away. I was the first to give her grand kids and what an amazing grandmother she was. She did not spoil them with gifts, but she gave them knowledge like how to sew, and cook. Just as Dad taught my boys to build things and fix things. Mom taught by being an example of her faith and her trust in God in all situations. She was always there when I needed her. I can’t think of a time that she wasn’t while she was alive.

Mom had planned to make sugar cookies with her youngest granddaughter at the time the morning that she died. The dough was made and waiting in the refrigerator. With the loss of Riley so fresh, I had a serious desire to make her sugar cookies this year at Christmas. I found two teenagers to make them with me here in Kentucky. To have that feeling, that mess, that pride in the finished product of an iced sugar cookie just like Mom gave her kids and her grand kids made me feel closer to her and Riley. I also made sugar cookies and sent them to Bria and Braden so that they had Grandma memories close to them this year. It was a hard holiday for all of us-our first without Riley.

The pain I feel from the loss of my mother is as instinctive as you can imagine. It does not even compare to the pain I feel from the loss of Riley, my sweet baby boy, my son, my love. I am glad that Mom wasn’t around to experience losing Riley. It would have devastated her. Parents are supposed to die before us. Our children are not. Riley had many years of making sugar cookies with Grandma and I. A comforting thought for me is that he is with Grandma now.

I wish that I could tell Mom, “Thank you for all that you did for me and for my children.”

Mom was sweet and fluffy and just right just like her sugar cookies.

I love you, Mom. Give Riley a hug and a kiss for me. Hold him tight.

I love you, Riley.

My Name: Riley Reed Peterson

September 5, 2014 / djuanadreed / Leave a comment

I found this treasure in a box of pictures. It is a sort of handmade puzzle Riley made. I think he was a first grader. It is hand cut in different shapes with a question in each piece. Each question has Riley’s handwritten answer. It is a sort of who is Riley type of project. His answers are candid and true to who Riley was at age 6. What a great age! I see the twinkle in his eyes when I think of Riley at age 6.

My Name: Riley Reed Peterson. (I love that he wrote his whole name.) My Birthday: May 3rd. (Yep, the day he was born……. and died.) My favorite animal: a prona and a shark (He loved the water.) My favorite food: An ice cream sunday (Of course!) Where I was born: Scottsdale, AZ (He was 7 lbs 7 oz, 21″ long and born during a Phoenix Suns playoff game.) My favorite book: Wackey Wednesday and Capt. Underpants (Copies of those books are still on his bookshelf in his room.) What I like most about our school: the cafeteria and the playground. (For sure those are the best parts of school.) What I do well: Beat my grama at checkers. (I can see the pride on his face now.) My wish: That I was rich and I had a dirt bike and a million dirt bike stadiums. (He had big plans starting at a young age!)

I think Riley Reed Peterson who was born on May 3rd, who loved the water and to swim had outgrown his interest in sharks and piranha’s. (Note how much of a little boy that is to like dangerous water animals!) He favored elephants as a teen. He wasn’t a big fan of ice cream anymore though he never wavered from his love of pizza. In that hospital in Scottsdale, Riley took his time arriving into this world. Braden had come so quickly. When my water broke, Braden was delivered in minutes. I was prepared for Riley to be a replay of my quick delivery of his big brother. It was not at all. It took medication and waiting for Riley to arrive thus Greg had time to watch the Suns playoff game while we waited. He did eventually arrive in due time- Riley timing. Riley enjoyed reading Captain Underpants books at that age. Me too! At 17, he enjoyed books that made him go “Hmm” and contemplate deep questions that have no answers. I think Riley still thought the world was his playground. He traded playing checkers with Grandma for playing chess at Coffee Rush with whomever was up for the challenge. He often beat his opponents at chess too. Riley gave up his love for dirt bikes for an interest in cars, guitars, vinyl, and computers among many other things. I imagine that he is pretty ticked that he didn’t get to the rich part. I fully expected Riley to reach his goals he had set for himself. He dreamed big. I loved that about him. I don’t think anyone should put limits on their dreams- they happen.

Forever May 3rd will be a painful day for us. What once was a day to celebrate his life now will remind us of the end of his life. A curious 3 year old that drew on the back of my leather couch with an ink pen. A curious 7 yr old who almost was successful in peeing off the balcony of a top floor hotel room. A curious 12 year old that spent hours learning the ins and outs of computers. A curious 14 year old started the process of teaching himself how to play guitar. A curious 17 year old tried a drug labeled as acid that had promises of a psychedelic spiritual experience. That last bout of curiosity killed him. Curious isn’t bad. We learn from our curiosity and mistakes made. This is a lesson of curiosity that was a mistake. A fatal one. That is a puzzle piece of Riley’s life that has been written that I will never be able to fully accept.

I Love You, Riley Reed Peterson.