March 18th

I never dreamed 36 years ago that I would start March 18th with a visit to the cemetery. Jason's birthday is here again and with it comes the full range of emotions in our family. We miss him; we celebrate him; we grieve him; we love him; we long to see him; mostly, we remember him.
As a baby, Jason was a dream for two young parents who didn't have a clue. He never spit up, he was never sick until he was about eight months old, he was happy, he was an entertainer. He ate like a baby is supposed to eat. The only thing I ever worried about during his first years was that he got the hiccups every time he laughed out loud. I was afraid that he would always do that.
As a pre-schooler, he was a whirlwind of activity--his scars all came before he started to school. I could not get that boy to think before he moved.
As an elementary school kid, he was just fun. His teachers all laughed at the number of times he would volunteer me to make cookies. He had no inhibitions; he was always willing to step us and participate. One year his teacher (I think it was Mrs. Yates) brought gourmet foods to class and had a tasting party. Jason tasted every food--caviar, chocolate covered ants, whatever she brought. He got the super taster award at the end of the year. He played the lead in a musical where he sang solos and performed without fear. He was a great kid.
As a teenager Jason was busy, busy, busy. His horse show schedule combined with Ag, basketball, and school (which was not high on his priority list) kept him in constant motion. I was so fortunate to join him at THS during his sophomore year and share in the fun. He had great, loyal friendships and a sweet girlfriend who is now with him in heaven.
As an adult Jason experienced the range of ups and downs that everyone faces. He loved his time at Connors and OSU, maybe a little too much. He loved training and showing horses. When he married, I had no reservations, but it didn't last. That was something he just couldn't get over. He made several statements to me that made me think that he thought he had let us down. I hope I was able to convey to him that we recognized that marriage is difficult, and many, many people have a hard time staying married today.
What would he be doing today if he had lived? I have no idea. He would still be horsing around; I'm sure of that. It does me no good to think that way. What is he doing today? Something so wonderful that I couldn't describe it even if I could get a glimpse of his eternal life.
I went to the cemetery this morning and saw that the tulips that I planted there this time last year have come up. They haven't bloomed, but they look healthy and full and ready to bloom any day now. That felt like a little message from God to me. It said, "I'm here; your boy is with me; everything will be ok."

Remembering my Son

Tomorrow should have been Jason's 36th birthday. I miss him so. I don't want to torture myself by reading through my blog entries, but it does help to know that we are better. The grief is not as raw as it was when I was writing these entries. I copied my very first entry onto this post because it tells of Jason's birth--one of the happiest days of my life.

I called this blog Jason's Mom because the day I became his mom, my identity was clear. I had been Nate and Mabel's youngest, Linda, Phyllis and Nathan's baby sister, Tony's wife, but when I became Jason's mom, I became focused on my purpose in life. Later I would also bear the name of Allison's mom and Carson's mom, so I still have my purpose. I just don't have Jason. I have no idea why I am writing in this blog, but I am grieving and can't sleep. It is 2:21 A.M.; I've been lying here since 11:30--thinking, remembering, reading, but not sleeping, so now I will write. It is my therapy.
Jason was born March 18, 1975 in Shawnee, Oklahoma. The day of his birth was an event in our home town of Tecumseh. I had been in labor for awhile and wasn't progressing, so at 2:00 the doctor told me he would perform a c-section at 5:00. Word spread like wildfire, and my memory is clear of a sea of faces looking down the hall when I was being rolled into surgery. Honestly it was a little overwhelming. Too many people for what seemed a private event, but that would begin a life for a baby that grew into a man whose funeral was one of the largest our town has ever seen.
Jason died in a tragic one vehicle accident one week and two days ago in Gordon, Nebraska. We had almost a week of preparation before we could bury him because he was so far away when he died. Now the family has gone home, his brother and sister have gone back to Stillwater, his dad and I are trying to put our home back together, and I can't sleep.
Maybe if I write down some of my thoughts, I will find release from the sleeplessness. I may find it too hurtful and give it up. Who knows?

Serendipity

I haven't written in my blog in a while. I think I've lost my muse, but today I found it. I'm in Durango, Colorado skiing with Carson and four of his friends. What an honor to be included in this trip--I'm trying to roll with the flow let this group of 22 and 23 year olds enjoy themselves.
We skied down a couple of runs together this morning, and then I needed to go get my headband, so I told them to go on and I would see them later. I headed down the mountain by myself. Now this will be no surprise to anyone who has ever skied with me, I got on the wrong trail. I am the world's worst person to follow a trail map. I forget where we are supposed to go and seldom am the person who leads, but today since I was by myself, I was my own leader. I ended up on a lift that I hadn't ever seen before, but it turned out to be a great experience. The part of the mountain that I was on was empty this morning, so I was just skiing down the runs, minding my own business when a squirrel ran right out it front of me. I ran smack dab over his tail without a witness in sight. It was a serendipitous moment for both of us.
I'm reading the new book called, Heaven is for Real; many Christians doubt stories like this, and that's ok with me, but since I have a son in heaven, I'm hungry for information about this place. The little boy who visited heaven tries to describe the colors that he saw. I couldn't stop thinking about that today as I was worshiping the nature surrounding me. The sky was bluer than normal, the snow was pristine white, the evergreens were rich green, the people skiing are wearing the colorful coats, hats, etc. It was almost too much for me to take in. I'll use that as the excuse for getting on the wrong trails. Sadly, it wasn't only once. I spent about two hours this afternoon skiing blue runs (my 56 year old knees prefer easier greens) because I kept taking the wrong trails.
Tonight I'm exhausted. I've had my shower and am about to read a little and go to bed because the wonder of God's creation exhausted me. Now I have no idea if we will ski in heaven, but if we do, our knees won't hurt, we won't get cold, the snow will never be icy or slushy, and maybe my glorified body will have an internal GPS that will keep me on the right trails.