Past, Present, and Future

While technology has played a significant role in my career as an educator, there was a time I was a pretty decent Language Arts teacher.  I loved teaching writing, even with the state test looming on the horizon.  Even with the resistance of struggling, hesitant writers.  There's something about putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and telling a story, sharing a piece of your heart.

It seemed like many of my students struggled with verb tense--that whole past, present, and future thing.  They would start writing about something that had happened and shift tenses midway through the essay.  Sometimes it worked, but other times it simply muddled what could be a fantastic story.  Today marks three years since Paige's original diagnosis.  Three years.  Cancer cut short a phenomenal life.  Lately I'm struggling with verb tense myself.  Past.  Present.  Future.  What do these look like on this new road we are traveling?

Was.  It's a simple 3-letter word.  We use it all the time to tell about events that have previously taken place.  Things that have passed.  Things in the past.  I was out of groceries, so I went to the store.  He was the loudest kid in the class.  Never in a million years did I think I would be using that word to describe my daughter.  As of October 24, 2016, everything about her story, her spunk--her amazing life in general--became linked to that word.  She was a beautiful soul with a strong faith in God.  She was incredibly smart and determined to help kids in situations like hers.  She was simply amazing.

Is.  Another simple word used to talk about the present.  Someone's current situation.  She is watching television.  The moon is bright tonight.  My situation seems to change at the drop of a hat these days.  This momma's heart is broken.  She knows her sweet girl is with her Savior, but she is struggling on this day.  Enough said.

Will.  Of these 'simple' verbs, I think this one is the strongest.  The most determined.  It shares hopes and sets goals.  It tells of things to come.  God will heal our hearts.  We will continue to shine Paige's light and build her legacy.  Our family will be reunited one day.  What a glorious moment that will be!

These seemingly simple verbs are stronger than they appear.  I think I'm kind of the opposite in that I appear stronger than my heart feels--but that really doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things.  What matters is I know God is my strength and my hope.  He is guiding my steps, leading the way.  I always try to write what is on my heart, but I'm so incredibly thankful God is in my heart.

A New Chapter

January 1.  The beginning of a new year.  New hopes.  New goals.  It's also the beginning of a new chapter for our family.  While many lament the end of the holiday season, for us it couldn't come fast enough.  We forged ahead with a few traditions and flat-out skipped others.  There was simply no escaping the pain felt by Paige's absence.  No way to stay busy enough.  No way to sidestep the fact that a huge piece of this momma's heart is missing.

That's not to say we are in 'sad mode' all day, every day.  As we move forward, we try to work around those feelings of loss--make room for them, so to speak--rather than be consumed by them.  It's a matter of finding some kind of balance in this new, off-kilter world of ours.  

I know God is ultimately the author of our stories.  Each and every one.  He knows the beginning, the end, and everything in between.  Jeremiah 29:11 reminds us of the plans He has for us.  Plans that include hope and a future.  Each day we are given breath, we become co-authors to a certain extent.  The way we do life.  The way we follow His lead.  This is how the middle chapters of our stories are written.

2016 started out pretty great for our family.  Then it got rough.  Really rough.  Like punch you in the gut, bring you to your knees rough.  It's definitely time for a new chapter to begin.  For hope--and maybe even a little joy--to find its way back into our family.  Here's a look at how we're getting started:

* The room our sweet girl occupied for 15 years now belongs to her brother.  Jeremy, also known as my giant man-child, has grown inches in a matter of weeks.  Fresh paint, new furniture, and wall decor displaying his varied interests (bowling, Texans, Camaros, etc.) have transformed the room into a space Jeremy can now call his own.   

* Boyce returns to work next week after an almost 6-month leave of absence.  He has been with us from the moment we learned of Paige's relapse in July, and we wouldn't have had it any other way.  It was important to have him here those last months we had with Paige and just as important to have some much-needed time together to begin the healing process.  

* I begin a new adventure tomorrow morning.  I was asked to return to my former school district for the remainder of the school year.  It's a junior high position that will find me teaching robotics and technology education classes.  After many conversations, a visit to the school, and a whole lot of prayer, I agreed to give it a go.  I decided I'll never know if I'm ready to return to work unless I take a leap--so tomorrow morning around 7:30, this lady is leaping.  Add on teaching a college class as an adjunct instructor, and I'm sure to stay busy.  The crazy thing is, I have seen little hints of Paige in the way all of this came about.  Could it be that my girl is gently nudging--really, kind of shoving--me out into the world again?  It really just might. 

Our new chapter includes our sweet girl as well.  Paige's time on Earth may have come to an end, but her story has not.  There is still so much to tell, so much we have yet to share.  What she faced over the course of three battles.  What she was able to overcome.  This new chapter will find us continuing to shine Paige's light, building on her legacy, and doing everything in our power to share the story of a girl whose faith could move mountains.  I'd say the Lejeunes are ready and willing to learn how to shine in 2017.

...let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in Heaven.   Matthew 5:16

December's Double Whammy

December, aka "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year."  Not for our family.  Not this year.  This month has taken on the feeling of a one-two punch.  A double whammy.  She should be here.  Paige should be here.  Healthy.  Happy.  Never having to take on cancer once, let alone two and three times.  Don't get me wrong--I know she is healthy and happy now.  I know she is going to have the most amazing Christmas in Heaven.  I know I will see her again one day.   Still...she should be here.     

Whammy #1,  "The Obvious One"
She should be here.  Paige should be here helping me bake holiday goodies and watching our favorite Christmas movies.  Doing things we've come to know as traditions for the Lejeune Four.  She should be making sure her accident-prone mom doesn't drop the candle at Christmas Eve candlelight services.  Dragging me out of bed on Christmas morning.  Eating pigs-in-a-blanket for breakfast.  Opening gifts and then anxiously waiting for us to open gifts she picked out just for us.  Going to Grandma's house for lunch and then laughing as Dad, Grandpa, and Uncle Craig doze off watching television.  She should be here.

Whammy #2, "The (Even More) Heartbreaking One" 

Paige was admitted to the Bone Marrow Unit on December 10th last year.  One year ago today.  It was the beginning of 9 days of "conditioning"--chemo, radiation, and more chemo--that would prepare her body for transplant.  Transplant, where new 'baby marrow' cells would take up residence in Paige's bones.  New cells that would work to build a brand new immune system.  New cells that were supposed to save her life.

For three months prior to that admission, Paige's body endured extremely hard cycles of chemotherapy.  It beat her up like I'd never seen--but in true Paige form, she pushed through every struggle, every setback, confident she would come out okay on the other side of it all.  December 18th was the day.  Paige's new birthday, as it's called in the transplant world.  She was so excited at the prospect of having 2 birthdays each year and had even thought about doing a silly cake smash for the 1st BMT birthday.  That girl--always planning ahead.  Always ready to move forward.

Being hospitalized during the holidays is not the ideal situation, but we were truly blessed by some wonderful individuals and organizations who wanted to give our family the best Christmas possible.  As you can imagine, there were several occasions I had to ask Paige for a wish list.  She was always reluctant to ask for much and told us more than one time, "I'm just happy to be here."  The girl could have listed just about anything and everything, but she chose not to.  She was simply thankful for hope.  Thankful for another chance at a healthy life.  Doesn't that say it all?  She should be here.

***************

Our sweet girl suffers no more.  Forever healed, she is likely looking down at me thinking I need a swift kick in the pants for being sad.  But I am sad.  Some days I navigate the waters of grief pretty well, while other days find me struggling to get my head above water.  I miss her terribly.  My heart aches over what this world lost in that girl.  Over what I lost in that girl.  

How thankful I am for God's promise to be with us always.  No matter what, He is here.  He gives us the strength to keep putting one foot in front of the other.  One step at a time, one day at a time.  We will make it.  He will make sure of it.  God is good like that.

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.   
Psalm 34:18     

Hope for Healing Our Broken Hearts

Tomorrow marks six weeks since Paige went to be with Jesus.  Six weeks since I held her hand in mine.  Since I looked into those beautiful eyes.  Six weeks since my heart shattered into a bazillion pieces.

While the holiday hustle and bustle is in full swing, it feels like our family is living in a separate world.  A separate world that moves at a snail's pace.  Even when we try to keep busy, time seems to drag.  Working through the grief of losing my girl takes on a whole new level of hurt this time of year.  Like many kiddos, Paige loved Christmastime.  Decorating the tree.  Baking yummy goodies.  Checking out light displays.  Watching our favorite Christmas movies.  All of these things were special because of the time we spent together.

Paige will spend her first Christmas in Heaven fully healed and whole.  I know we will be reunited one day, but this day finds my heart hurting.  Broken.  Truly shattered.  Life goes on all around, while I'm slowly navigating each day feeling like Humpty Dumpty, wondering how I'm ever going to feel put back together again.

My brain tells me to keep moving forward, and I am--one day (sometimes one hour) at a time.  I have to.  For Boyce and Jeremy.  For Paige.  For myself.  It's my heart I have to wrestle on a daily basis, and it's basically become a tug-of-war contest.  Here's just a glimpse:

I fall apart.  Getting ready to leave town--which in past years was not a big deal--for the first time as 3 instead of 4 proved to be quite taxing on the emotions.  Boyce and Jeremy got their things together, and I was just fine.  However, when I started laying out my own things, it hit me hard.  I'm usually the last one to pack, but we were missing a piece of the puzzle.  A beautiful, much-missed piece.  
I'm (temporarily) back together.  After a good cry, I finished packing.  We even managed to fit everything into one big suitcase, which was pretty impressive.  Turns out I needed that trip more than I realized.  We flew to Ohio to be part of an incredible event that honored our sweet girl.  Her face was everywhere--banners, shirts, a live-streamed broadcast.  We strengthened our bond with the incredible family that flew us up there.  We explored a beautiful metropark with winding roads, amazing fall foliage, and altogether peaceful surroundings.  It was definitely a weekend of healing.

I fall apart.  We're smack dab in the middle of the holiday season, and it's time to do a little Christmas decorating around the house--even if we aren't totally feeling it.  Boyce and I try to do 'normal' things with Jeremy as much as we possibly can, so it was important to us to get through it.  Going through bins of Christmas decor, I came across one containing decorations from our room on the Bone Marrow Unit last year.  Decorations we kept because Paige wanted to use them again one day.  Decorations that took my breath away and began the onslaught of tears.
I'm (temporarily) back together.  Just two days later, we returned to TCH to help spread Christmas cheer to the families calling the Bone Marrow Unit home this year.  The Chandler's Tree Farm organization blessed us last year, and it truly did our hearts good to give back this year.  What I thought might prove to be too difficult turned out to be more like a family reunion.  We visited with several friends--from patients to doctors to nurses.  It was yet another step in the healing process.

I fall apart.  When Paige relapsed again in July, we happened to be inpatient when the TCH Marketing Department visited the Hematology/Oncology floor.  They were looking to create some new materials for the Cancer Center and asked for permission to photograph our sweet girl.  A few days ago I received a phone call asking if we were still good with them using Paige's pictures, to which I answered, "Absolutely!"  Today I opened an envelope they sent that contained a CD and several of the printed photos.  They were pictures of Paige I had never seen before.  They were simply beautiful.  And I wept.  And wept.  
I'm (temporarily) back together.  Not yet.  But I will be.  Paige will make sure of it.

Our family is hurting.  I don't know that the hurt will ever fully go away, but I do believe it will sting a little less as time goes by.  I'm so thankful for the goofy, amazing young man we are blessed to call our son--who definitely keeps Boyce and me from totally sinking some days.  It's important we make sure he knows it's okay to keep going.  He's only 13, and we want him to go on to have a happy life.  Jeremy is already a great kid, but this whole experience will only serve to make him stronger in character and in faith.  I can only hope it will do the same for us.

My Guardian Angel

I miss my girl.  I miss her voice.  Her laugh.  Her smile.  I miss running my hands through that beautiful curly hair.  I miss watching our favorite shows together.  I miss nagging her about water intake.  I miss praying with her.  I miss everything about her.  Absolutely everything.

My sweet girl is no longer in pain.  I know it.  She is at peace.  I believe it.  She has eternal life with Jesus.  God promised it.  I trust His word even though I struggle to see the purpose in this particular plan.  He will reveal it in His time.

For now, we deal with the "firsts."  The first night home.  The first trip out of town.  The first holiday season.  I struggle like crazy with those stinking "On This Day" reminders on social media.  They're simply proof Paige was right; I sure did take a ton of pictures of that girl.  Each time one pops up, it tugs--actually, it yanks with great force--at my heart.  I take a moment to catch my breath and then take in every ounce of that beautiful smile.

Grief--and working through it--puts you on a very long, very rough road.  Losing a child doesn't just hurt.  It is devastating.  Elizabeth Stone likened having a child to forever having "your heart go walking around outside your body."  There is such truth in that statement.  I carried that precious baby for nine months--actually a bit longer--and knew everything about her routine during that time.  Elbows in my ribs--all day, every day.  Hiccups at 7 pm on the dot--every single night.  She even "craved" Sonic slushes several days a week; of course, I obliged.  I had to take care of my girl.  Fast forward to cancer diagnosis.  After diagnosis.  After diagnosis.  Medications, appointments--you name it, I was part of it.  Wiping her tears, holding her hand, cheering her on, and just plain being in awe of that girl.  Paige and I joked about being joined at the hip--and for almost three years, we truly were.  We drove each other crazier than we ever thought we could, yet at the same time grew closer than we ever dreamed possible.  Each day I'm trying to remind myself that she's still here with me, just in a different capacity.  That heart that walked around outside my body is now watching over our family.

Kinda great having such a cool guardian angel.

Behold, I send an angel before you to guard you on the way...   Exodus 23:20

A New Chapter Begins...

Our family began a new chapter this week.  Yet to be titled, it's a work in progress as we try to navigate this new road, this uncharted territory that finds just three of us in a place where there once were four.  Paige will always be with us, of course--on our minds and in our hearts.  In pictures of that beautiful face with the unforgettable smile.  In audio recordings of a beautiful voice at her silliest.  In videos showing crazy dance moves.  It's the whole "not being able to reach out and hug her" thing that's so stinking hard.

A little less than two weeks ago, Paige received her healing.  Her peace.  Her miracle.  As badly as I wanted that healing here--as hard as we all prayed for just that--it simply wasn't part of God's purpose for her life.  We will never know (on this side of Heaven) just how many lives our sweet girl touched in her 16 years.  What I do know is that her light will continue to shine.  Boyce, Jeremy, and I will make sure of that.  We have some pretty big shoes to fill, but Team Paige will carry on with a purpose.

I'm not done writing about our family's journey of faith as we enter this new season of our lives.  I am, however, altering the name of the blog--changing it from Pray for Paige to Team Paige.  Seems like a good place to start.  The blog address will stay the same for now, and older posts will still be accessible.  Gotta keep sharing our girl's story.  She deserves nothing less.

In the meantime, the boys and I will follow Paige's lead in living out Romans 12:12 - Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.  I do hope you'll join us.

See You in a Little Bit, Sweet Girl

October 24, 2016.  Heaven gained its newest angel as our sweet Paige went to be with Jesus.  She finally received the healing and peace she'd been wanting and needing for so very long.  I'm so very blessed to have spent 16 years with that amazing young lady.  Brave.  Strong.  Determined.  Selfless in prayer for others.  Joy in the face of adversity.  Steadfast in faith.  I want to be like her when I grow up.

I miss my sidekick something crazy.  After all, we were joined at the hip for almost 3 years.  Next to my husband, the girl was my best friend.  I talked with her quite often about how something good--or lots of "something goods"--would come from her struggles.  We will continue to share her story and make sure her light continues to shine.  She deserves nothing less.  

I'll see you in a little bit, my love.