Dear Kindred Mama,
February 23, 2022
Well, here we are again. This time last year our girl was alive but the clock was ticking down. I've thought a lot about our Jaylynn this past week, especially as her 22nd birthday passed us by. The grief was largely dormant for many previous months, but as I'm staring down February 28th at approximately 1 am, the grief has stirred awake, understandably so. It's like I'm preparing to watch a sad movie again, knowing the part I hate still hasn't changed, yet holding this inner tension that it's worth watching again, worth contemplating, worth holding the weight of the truth that this upcoming date holds.
I've felt compelled to spill out in words the feelings and thoughts stirred up as I revisit this stormy darkness from a year ago. And I hope as I do perhaps the sun will peak through the clouds and warm us both in some healing way. What words do I have? I've written letters to her with my thoughts. Sometimes I'm mad at her, and sometimes I'm remembering the good times. I've rehearsed all the steps taken, the pitstops in her life I witnessed, the sharp course changes, and the ending. The gut-wrenching ending of a frozen body laying on the ground. The precious body of the daughter we both loved, frostbitten and awaiting her final resting place.
I know how the 'what if's' torment. I know the mapping out of each alternate turn and think of the hundreds of different destinations that could have been her life's journey. And I know all about the guilt. I struggle with a different guilt than you, and a different reason for enduring chronic stress, but I still get it. I have guilt about how taking in Jaylynn challenged the best version of me, the healthier me, the gracious me, the NOT carrying TOO much me, to survive during those years I was raising her. This force that had to be reckoned with that was Jaylynn. This inescapable force of joy, and make believe fun, and stubborn, sometimes seemingly unyielding negativity and resistance; This force of tenderness and affection, the generosity and 'I wanna make them proud' rivaled with 'I will fight them at almost every turn'; the vulnerability and heartfelt words, the hard-hearted, 'I'm gonna act tough no matter what'. It was all her. Paul and I struggled now and then with our decision to take on this force but we never felt right about saying no. We never wanted her to feel the sting of our rejection. So we matched this force with the best we had, even as we took on the added strain and disadvantage our choice caused some of our other children, because we loved her so.
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Dear Kindred Mama,
February 28, 2022
As an adoptive mother we sometimes get to play the role of hero and we sometimes get to play the role of villain. There's generally a whole lot of finger pointing coming from biological families who prefer the assignment of villain. And there are all kinds of opinions from those on the sidelines watching the plays and replays, that feel entitled to their assessment of how they could have done better, or what should have been done differently. Meanwhile, in the trenches of everyday parenting at the intensity needed to match the force that was Jaylynn, we didn't have the luxury of passive reflection. We were trying to maintain our ideals of the life we wanted for our pre-Jaylynn family, and hold it all together with 4, then 5, then 6, then 7, then 8 kids.
Jaylynn was, it seemed, at the top of the pyramid, and I felt if she came tumbling down, we'd all fall into a fractured heap together. Her mannerisms and attitude were mimicked by the younger kids so I couldn't let her fly under the radar. For the good of all my other kids, she gobbled up the majority of my attention, efforts, and patience. It was a stressful balancing act when having little ones and homeschooling, with no family support nearby. I emotionally felt I was in the Circus net many times a day. I told you many times on the phone how hard it was to raise her. It was draining many days correcting, directing, and managing her inexhaustible stubbornness. And Yes!, there were so many times we felt rewarded by the creative fun and joy she created with the kids she grew to love so dearly, each with their own special bond. Overall though, the return on our parenting investment was as slow as Jaylynn was growing. Like the growing of a tree, where you cannot notice change unless a good deal of time has gone by, it took the slow passing of time for Paul and me and those in our tribe, to notice positive changes from our costly efforts and investments. Year after year, the positive changes are something you noticed as well. Until you didn't. Until suddenly, we both didn't.
I went to bed last night and thought, 'the horrors begin in a little over an hour'. I woke up without an alarm at precisely the time the investigator believes she took her last breath. I told Paul the time and flatly stated, 'She's free now'. But Kindred Mama, I know how hard it is for us to be free when the death of so many dreams for our girl’s good on earth are buried with her. It's a weight to carry with us on our journey. A weight we will never get to put down. But I don't wish that weight to be heavier than you can bear; not heavier from unnecessary burdens. You may grapple with the harshest voices of guilt, shame, and finger pointing coming from within your own mind and directed at you with vicious tenacity. You know, the labels that try to stick on you. Drug addict. For many years you lived through times of chaos, recovery, betrayal, sickness, emotional and mental anguish, uncertainty, dependence on others, and the big ol' 'more than you can handle' mess that led from crisis to crisis. But these damned labels are so narrow, so harshly condemning and they lie. They lie by default because they leave out so much truth. So much truth about who you were and what you did.
Few people understand the overwhelming challenges you faced. Only God understands the dark places you've been in mentally and emotionally. God alone knows what it is like to be in your exact position where the timing and circumstances collided making it futile to fight to keep custody of your own children, because the instability in your life at that time was incompatible with their best. So you've had to walk through the tragedy of losing connection and control in the eventual raising of the kids you birthed. That is brutal. But it doesn't erase...Mother. It doesn't erase all the good you did for your kids; the hundreds of hugs, the bedtime stories, the efforts to make a good and safe life for them. God knows the big picture and while some may take pride in how well they've done in life, they haven't walked in your shoes and had pits to dig out of that took all your inner fortitude not to just want to give up and die. He saw all the good and it's not lost on Him.
And I suppose this is where our stories as mothers intersect. Jaylynn turned 18 and you were a completely different person by this time. Perhaps not having to raise the girls for a number of years contributed to allowing you the space and time to get your footing on solid ground, and start living a life where you enjoyed some healthy relationships, stability, rewarding work, and a halting of the crisis to crisis storyline. Perhaps it was the serendipitous good fortune of meeting the right person at the right time. Perhaps it was God's help. But you set out with optimism to help Jaylynn launch into adulthood. I had little to no contact with you during these years. I know there were ups and lots of downs. There were false starts, and determined talk of plans to make changes. But Jaylynn seemed to be drifting more and more into depression, alcohol abuse, and stagnation where she just wouldn't or couldn't get herself moving in any direction but down. I remember you told me a few years in that 'she had put you through Hell'. Undoubtedly, you also have a treasure trove of happy memories and good times throughout those years as well that you wouldn't trade for the world.
The end of this earthly story is no happy ending. The girl we loved so much. The girl we wanted the best for. The girl we worked so hard to help. That girl had her own will, chose her own way and wrestled with her own demons. And we know the ending. I do wonder if her ending was God's mercy saving her from more suffering, and the suffering she could have caused others. 5 hours of misery beats decades of misery. Then I wonder if her death was as simple as bad timing, a poor choice, and the perfect collision of unfortunate circumstances that mark many tragedies. And that she was otherwise destined to turn herself around a few more years down the road.
Kindred Mama, all we have is the moment we are in and a chance to plan and prepare for the best future possible. While I agree that there are times we can recognize hurtful or selfish choices we have made and say sorry or make amends for any hurt we've caused. Beyond that, this focus can be an unproductive rut to get stuck in where we repeatedly beat ourselves up with our own internal punishing squad. There is absolutely no good thing that will come from beating yourself up over past regrets. It's gone and done. What’s best is to change the NOW for the better each day. You lost Jaylynn, but you still have 2 adult kids, a beautiful granddaughter, and a chance to make the most out of the years ahead. To continue to fight like hell not to relapse and to get your shit together real quick if you do or did. Because the rest of the story can continue to be different. The rest of the story could be the best years of your life. 👊💪💖
I want to wrap up my thoughts with a story that Jesus told in Luke 18:10-14
“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
Unlike the self-righteous finger pointers that are quite upstanding in their own eyes and tend to distinguish their goodness in relation to those below them that are 'bad' or just not doing life right like they are, you are in the superior position of already knowing you need mercy. Mercy for the future. Mercy for the now. Whether realized or not, the very best humans on earth need that mercy! You are light years ahead of the finger pointers, who in their pride think they can judge you or look down on you. And as far as your inner voices of regret, or negativity, you gotta pull out your STFU to those thoughts as often as they come up. All God needs is a humble heart asking for help, and he's right there! He is drawn to that and he'll have your back to help you get from point A to point B.
As I end the day Jaylynn left us a year ago, I encourage you, kindred mama, to keep living, to keep your chin up, to drop the worthless guilt and shame from the past, and to LIVE. You are still here and you are needed. God still has important work for you, the best of which is to throw off the weights you were not meant to carry. The grief of losing a child is weight enough. "Give your burdens to the Lord, and he will take care of you." Psalm 55:22 Jesus keeps HOPE ALIVE! https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=4Q9itF7tx0o
From the other mother of the same beloved daughter,
Kayloni
Jaylynn's Obituary: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1G05xMCxYq7GesijfMrNLlOk0Kq1wDEx3hy9n3m-ORA0/edit
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