beyondthebridge

We got the “happy ending”.  Conor is back at college.  He is rejoining his Carleton “family” and will have a full load of classes and work on his physical rehab while practicing with CUT.  When I dropped him off earlier this week, HE WAS SO HAPPY!!!  He collected hugs, “you look great” remarks (and he does look like nothing ever happened), met with his advisor, and has been playing Settlers of Catan, socializing, etc. (let’s hope not too much of “etc”!).   Classes start tomorrow.  While I am sure he is experiencing many things, one thing that stands out is the envelopment of his community.  He is so fortunate to have awesome community.

We too have been penetrated to our core by the power, strength, humility, joy …  that comes from being enveloped by community.

I am SO conscious of all of these truly amazing, unmerited gifts that have come to us.  I am daily, sometimes hourly, reflecting on our good fortune–But i also daily, hourly, in my dreams and at many surprising moments remember the pain of the three families who lost their sons, the driver of the car, the driver of the truck.  It is holding these contrasts of “happy” vs. tragedy that has been setting upon me heavily since I returned from Conor’s Carleton drop off.

I am tired to my bones and my soul is deeply weary from the journey of the last 6 months.  I always knew that at some point the intensity of this time would “catch up” with me…now that Conor is back at school, some big work jobs are off my plate, and “routine” has arrived, my soul longs for rest.  It is SO true that we have had amazing support, witnessed goodness from strangers, had a son’s brain go from “looking for asparagus spears” to rejoining college…so I feel sheepish and almost guilty to say that the pain and grief and difficulty of the past 6 months is “knocking me off my game”.  But it is.

I am finding that while life is moving onward, I am now having more time to look backward.  There is a lot to integrate.  And one of the more difficult aspects of this journey is the holding of the miracle we got with the despair of the others.  I truly do not think Conor has “survivor’s guilt”.  But, I have “Mother’s survivor’s guilt”.  It is ABSOLUTELY not something that any others, such as the mothers of the boys who died, are giving me, it is internal, and I know that.

I have always been a person with some sense of “survivor’s guilt”.  I read Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger in high school, and it hit me so hard that 12 years later, buying a house in Seattle provoked such angst that I talked to my pastor about it!  We could have built ALOT of wells and provided clean water, cows, etc to many for the price of this house… I think it is GOOD to be aware of how GREAT we have it…I have lived and worked in Liberia, Kenya, Nicaragua, and been to poverty stricken America as well.  I totally relate to the U-2 lyrics of “where one is born should not dictate whether one lives or whether one dies”.  Holding onto the profound gratitude of unmerited GRACE and gifts while being acutely aware of suffering and deprivation has always been a dichotomy that stops me in my tracks.  Now it is all so close and personal in a different way.  Where one sits in a car DID dictate whether these remarkable human beings lived or died.

So, what do I do with this tension from this dichotomy?  I guess that really, the only way forward is to keep living with it and moving through each day, holding it.  And I do know one thing…empathy is so close to my sleeve right now.  Whenever I hear of parents who have had some tragic thing happen, or talk to patients who are suffering, it is not uncommon to have tears well up.  Tears are running freely and frequently.  Empathy, compassion, and caring are easy to come by these days.  I am not sure there is ever going to be a “resolution” to the juxtaposition of Happy Ending with the devastation of lives lost.  I am not sure I even need that.  In fact, the goal is NOT to quit thinking or feeling for all those who suffered such loss.  But, I do look forward to celebrating our Happy Ending without that twinge of guilt.  I am so fortunate to have the model of Christ, and the community I have to help with that.  It will be an ongoing process.

Well, today, Sept 9, 2014, I took the plunge.  I started a blog…

I am not a technology person, and it is “learn by doing”.  But, — so much is, isn’t it?  Or maybe it is doing, and we just hope we learn.

This blog is meant to allow reflections on the Mothering Journey that began Feb 28, 2014.  My oldest son, Conor, was in a tragic car accident where 5 college students were headed to the Minneapolis airport to catch a plane to reach an Ultimate Frisbee tournament.  The car hit ice, crossed lanes, and was broadsided by an ongoing semi.  It was no one’s “fault”.  No one was speeding, drinking, texting…it was ICE.   Three boys died instantly.  He was behind the driver, and he and the driver lived.  Conor sustained multiple injuries, including a very significant Traumatic Brian Injury (TBI).  The journey through the initial 6 months of his healing process was shared on a Caring Bridge Site for Conor Eckert.   There is plenty of reflecting on that site as the 6 months was filled with so much grief, goodness, pain, surprises, blessings, support, healing, miracles, giving…that I feel I have lived a lifetime in the last 6 months.  But, through the most intense of it, I discovered that writing the Caring Bridge blog was not just a communication tool to our immense and geographically diverse support group.  It was also a gift to me – to allow reflection, processing, and drawing attention to some amazing gifts that happened along the journey.

Now we are “beyond the bridge”.  Through 6 months, “Conor” has emerged/returned and his brain has had a  healing process –the speed and totality of which has been called “miraculous” —  even by those who say “I never use the word “miraculous” but given the injury you had to your frontal lobe [brain], that is what we are witnessing here.”  Today, I dropped him off to start his sophomore year at Carleton College.  6 months ago I wondered if he would ever be able to go back to college.  He is getting RE-started.  We got the “happy ending”.  And there is no “reason” our September is so different than the Septembers of the families of those 3 remarkable human beings who died other than the randomness of where the boys were sitting in the car.

He just turned 20, and has lost 3 dear dear teammates and friends.  The upfront, in your face inexplicable and cruel randomness of life is now a part of his story forever.  Yet, the miraculous rebirth of his brain, his bones knitting together, the life-changing ground swell of support are also part of his story–and of ours.  Our lives will never be the same.

So, now the “next step” in this journey starts.  One son at college.  One son now a senior in high school: Take Two.  A working mother with a wonderful and robust career, a supportive and loving husband of 27 years, amazing friends and family and community — all “Take two”. 

I start this blog to reflect on life “beyond Caring Bridge”.  Conor’s story is his own now to tell.  I see this blog as a way for this Mother to reflect on the intensity of the last 6 months — and how it integrates into life moving forward.  Inevitably, it will also pull in history, and “roles” beyond parenting – as we are all so many roles simultaneously.

So, I am starting.   New to blogging.  Open to the evolution.  Here we go.