Bittersweet Celebration

July 23, 2023 (Two weeks after the accident)

Today is bittersweet. Scott and I celebrate our anniversary today, but it’s been two weeks since our world stopped turning. Every day has been difficult as we try to figure out exactly what life looks like without Ayden and Keeton’s presence. And I have to admit, it looks a bit scary without them because I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to be a mama to two children in heaven. What Ayden and Keeton need from me now is completely different from what they needed from me prior to July 9th. Every decision I made from the time of their itty bitty existence until July 9th revolved around what they needed. After all, that's what a parent is supposed to do. Their schedule dictated my schedule. Practices, games, and events they were involved in took precedent. What they needed was far more important than what I needed. As soon as they started daycare and school, my name became Ayden's Mom or Keeton's Mom. My identity became wrapped up in who I was to them, so without them here, I am completely lost now. Yes, I am still their mom. Nothing will ever change that, but my days are very empty because I don't have their lives chartering my course. I feel as if my purpose left with them. They still "need" me, but they don't need me to make sure their daily needs are met. It's as if I am on a journey with no map, no directions, and no GPS. I don't know where I am going, so I don't know when I will get there. Not to mention, the reactions and looks I get now as soon as people realize that I am Ayden and Keeton's mom. 

However, I know that in this journey, my trust in God and what He is doing is increasing exponentially. If I truly believe the Bible, then I have to stand on Proverbs 3:5-6. And not just stand on it, but claim it and trust it to be the truth. I have to trust God to guide my steps and submit to Him. I may not know what life holds for me right now, but I do know that God never fails. God didn’t fail me on July 9th. He didn’t fail Ayden and Keeton. He didn't make a mistake. And He didn’t take them from me. God did not steal their lives away. He welcomed them into their eternal heavenly home. The accident that claimed their lives was a moment in time. It doesn’t define who the boys were, who they are now, the lives they lived, or the legacy they left. Romans 8:28 reminds us that God turns all things to good for those who love Him and have been called according to His purpose. 

Now, I know there are people who question, “what good can come out of the tragic passing of two little boys?” People who accept Jesus as Lord and Savior because they want to experience the same love and joy Ayden and Keeton found in God the good. People who step out in faith after learning that Ayden responded to his calling at 10-years-old and began preparing for his calling immediately is the good. People who decide to be more intentional about encouraging others because they knew that Keeton made sure he made everyone smile or laugh is the good. People who sow into the Ayden and Keeton's Hope Children’s Home is the good. I can go on and on, but it’s quicker for me to say that God is up to something, and it’s all good.

Don’t get me wrong, the grief and pain is very overwhelming at times. The specialty pizza sitting in the freezer we bought for Ayden to make sure he could enjoy one of his favorite foods without suffering stomach issues later caused me to cry for 30 minutes. The ripstick skateboard left under the edge of the front porch waiting for a very active 11-year-old to ride it up and down the walkway knocked the breath from my lungs. The pitch back that helped Keeton use up all that energy rests in the backyard waiting for a ball to bounce back. The swings are hanging empty, seemingly abandoned, and gently blowing in the breeze. Finding two Legos in the clothes basket made me abandon the laundry for the day. Realizing in the middle of the store that my normal grocery list is no longer applicable caused me to have to go back to the car for a regroup. However, in each of the moments where the grief overwhelms me, an unexplainable peace flows in at the name of Jesus. In case you are wondering, Ayden’s pizza is still in the freezer, Keeton’s ripstick is still under the porch, the pitch back had to be moved to cut grass, but it is still close to where Keeton left it, the swings are still empty, the laundry did get finished, and my loving husband completed the shopping. So while we still grieve on our anniversary because of the void we have and all the things we didn't get to do as a family, we still celebrate our adventures as a family this last year and the amazing things God has in store for us. As scary as the unknown is, we still hold onto the good that’s happening and will happen. We rejoice in knowing that the God of the mountain is the God of the valley. The God of laughter is the God of tears. The God of our healing is the God of our grief journey.