Thanksgiving

I tried posting this last week, but Blogger and I weren't getting along.  So I am trying again.

Thanksgiving.  We made it through our second Thanksgiving without you here begging for the Witch bone.  This year wasn't nearly as hard as last year… the girls at work have been super excited about the holiday, spending time with family and of course the food.  It was easier to get excited about being off work and spending the day at home with J and K and your grandma.  We all ate dinner together, and of course ate way too much turkey.  I have been thinking about how 

Thankful I am for the seven years I got to be your mama.  You were my surprise baby, and you kept me on my toes.

I am thankful for the nights you slept in my bed, snuggling your hard head in my ribs or smacking me in the face.  I miss your bed head in the morning and your squeaky voice saying in a sing song way, “Good morning Mama.” 

I am thankful that you still wrote on the walls, the doors, the furniture and the scarecrow.  I still have all that “artwork” to remind me of you.

I am thankful for the dirty corner wall where you spent your time-outs, the nose and forward prints are your growth chart.

I am thankful for all your footie jammies, especially the ones I had to cut the feet out of so you didn't break your collarbone trying to wear them.

I am thankful for Austin and Mario, I snuggle them every night.

I am thankful for my last conversation with Thelma about your last days. Her theory is you came back that Saturday night, Jesus met you in the water and took you to heaven, but then He sent you back for the next day and a half.  You were here with me, you heard me say, “I love you baby.” You felt me kissing your hands and rubbing your arms and face.  You felt me brushing your hair and kissing your head and nose.  You heard your brother and sister at your bedside telling you they love you and encouraging you to wake up.

I am thankful that all of us know Jesus and have accepted him into our lives.  I am thankful that you are with Him and that one day we will all be together again. (The sooner the better.)

I love you bubberbutt!  I can’t wait until I can kiss your face again. 

PTSD

I haven't really talked about how J and K are doing since Luke’s accident.  I try to respect their privacy, especially since I am always telling them once you put it on the internet, it is out there Forever.  But I feel like I should talk about J for this post.  He was diagnosed with PTSD a little over a year ago.  He saw Luke drown in front of him, he tried to save his baby brother and failed.  He saw them sticking Luke with needles and putting tubes all over his little body. He saw them shocking him, he saw the CPR and the doctor’s and nurse’s faces while they worked.  He stood next to me while Luke took his final breathes.  That is a lot for an adult, I can’t imagine what it was like for a 9 year old boy.  From the time Luke was born, he was J’s best friend.  There was NEVER any jealousy on J’s part.  He took his role as big brother seriously.  He was Luke’s best friend, protector, cheerleader and co-conspirator.

After Luke died, I immediately put all three of us in therapy.  Due to insurance constraints, we have had a few therapists…. The most recent is Thelma.  She specializes in childhood trauma and is working on her Doctorate degree in Psychology.  She is the most patient, caring person I have ever met.  She has been good for J and me. 

That said, J and Thelma are doing hard work, talking about the day Luke drowned.  They have been working on that day for the last 2 months.  J finally had a breakthrough Friday and was able to name a feeling, an emotion about that day.  He has struggled with that for the last 15 months.  We are both SO proud of him!  On the dark side though….. This has been very, very hard on him.  He is not handling things well.  My once sweet, huggy, wouldn't hurt a fly child is struggling with anger towards himself, his dad, his sister and me about that day.

I have told him so many times it wasn't his fault, it should be ingrained in his head.  I have told him the same amount of times that his dad did not mean for Luke to get hurt and die, that he made a very bad decision.  J is mad at his sister for not going that weekend, not being there to save Luke.  He is mad at me for making them go with their dad that weekend.  He hasn't said he was mad at Luke, but I wouldn't be surprised if he was, that is a normal part of grief.  Luke left him here and is in Heaven with grandpa and papaw.  Crap, I am kinda jealous about that!

This weekend has been horrible.  There are so many triggers for his PTSD, it is like living in a minefield.  It has been one outburst after another.  He has spent more time in his room calming down than he has in the 3 years we have lived here.

I would appreciate any and all prayers for my kids…..  we have a long road ahead of us.

My Point of View

My Point of View

Written by Jonathan T. Zimmerman

I am Luke’s brother.  I was there when Luke drowned in the Wabash River.  I know exactly what happened and not what my dad thinks and he was there too.  My mom’s blog is all about Luke and how I told her how it happened.  I kinda forgot a few parts of it.  Like about the part where I was in 6 feet of water and if I wasn't in water, I would have had a concussion because I slipped on a rock and I floated to the bottom.  Which is where I found Luke.  So I tried to pick Luke up on my back, and if you have ever tried to pick up a kid in water, it is impossible, so I fell in again. And then, I finally got the strength to get out of the water and yell and cuss a little under my breath at my dad. (Sorry about that Mama.)  Anyways, I finally got out, ran up to my dad, he was busy playing games on his phone, I had to get his attention by getting out of the water, getting up as far as I could on the ramp, and yell at him.  It took about 30 seconds for him to realize what was going on.  And I yelled Thomas.  He finally went and got Luke out of the water. 

I told dad to give me his phone and I called 911.  They came, and then I called my mom.  When the fire trucks got there, it was weird.  I had never seen that many cars in the same place at the same time.  I could hear them pumping on Luke’s chest.  I once heard them yell he is not breathing, and a paramedic ran at him and had these little things and shocked him.  Then they put him in a fire truck and ran.  There wasn't enough ambulances because a trailer fell into the river. 

A policeman took me to the hospital, this was the third time I got to ride in a police car and I wasn't arrested!  At the hospital, I saw a whole bunch of tubes sticking out of Luke’s body. And I got free food.  I saw a whole lot of doctors.  They were shocking Luke.  They were saying clear.  I was outside the room with my dad.  I felt horrible.  Because it all happened so fast.  I didn't feel scared, just horrible.