Tuesday, November 16, 2010

I Hear Voices!

It used to hold a stigma if you uttered, I hear voices. It wasn't just an awesome country song by Chris Young. The video of this song is awesome, so here's the link - I hope this works. I am not great with some of the technical aspects of blogging. Anyway, on the way home from work, this song came on the radio, and my mind immediately seized on the topic, and set off warp factor 1, Mr Sulu! (Yes, I am a "trekkie" and I came out of the nerd closet years ago!)
I got to thinking about the term "hearing voices". Like I said, it used to hold a negative connotation, that of a psychotic break, usually schizophrenic. (The plus side of growing up in a home with schizophrenics, is you are familiar with symptoms.) I remember being afraid I was either crazy of missing something, because as a hearing impaired individual, I was always listening so hard for voices.
If you have significant hearing loss, you are always on alert, lest you miss someone talking to you, especially at school, where not hearing a teacher has consequences! I struggled a lot of years because I didn't have hearing aids. I probably would have qualified for assistance and hearing aids, as well as other assistance as a child, were I not the daughter of a spousal-abusing schizophrenic that isolated his family. I never received training in lip reading, but apparently over the years a developed a fair amount of this skill.
As a teen, my mother introduced me to the world she grew up in. She was granddaughter of a locally famous, or should I say infamous, spiritualist minister. He was credited with her surviving polio, using methods that weren't yet prevalent at the time, as well as spiritualist dogma like the laying on of hands, "measuring", and spirit/psychic healing. I remember my first visit to the Spiritualist Church in Fort Wayne at the corner of Spring St and Wells St. I remember Reverend Bernice coming up to me after and saying, "You hear voices, don't you?" She put a hand on my shoulder and told me it was okay and I shouldn't be afraid. She told me that the dead can't hurt me, only the living can. It calmed my fears as she reassured me that I was NOT crazy.
Ironically enough, going to church at a Wesleyan church years later, those fears came back with a vengeance. The doctrine implies that if we hear voices, it's probably demons.
In the country song, the lyrics expound on the voices being memories of loved ones giving us words to live by. I know there are times I can just hear Momma or Daddy telling me something important, and when I recall it, I hear it in their voices. All this is leading to a point, I promise.
Anyway, I got to thinking, what if all of it is true? What if God speaks to us in voices we are familiar with, so as to get our attention? Maybe "psychic" messages warning of imminent danger are actually messages from a loving Father God who wants to protect us? What if he speaks to us to reassure us using the voices of those we love so we draw near? Who are we to define God's voice? I also think that Lucifer would use voices to entice us to sin. I think that hearing voices might not be a bad thing, if we consider what they say prayerfully. I would be reluctant not to consider this.
After all, I keep coming back to the joke of the man waiting out a flood. He keeps saying that God will save him. First he sends away someone in a rowboat, followed by a power boat and lastly a helicopter. When he drowns, he asks God why he didn't save him. God replies that He sent two boats and helicopter, what more was He supposed to do? While this makes me laugh, I wonder if I sometimes am the guy on the roof ignoring messages from God or his provisions for me. Then, I get the mental image of God smacking me on the head and saying, "What were you thinking? Didn't you hear ME?"
Maybe today, we should spend some time listening to the still small voice, whether we define it as conscience, God, spirit guides, or insanity. After all, God calls us to be STILL and know He is God. If we never have the quiet, still time, how are able to hear Him when he speaks?
So today, I hope you hear voices, and I mean that in a good way!

Monday, May 10, 2010

Embracing my Inner Helen Reddy

My daughter seems surprised that I know all the words to "I am Woman" by Helen Reddy. I just wish I had found that part of my soul that knows how to stand up for our rights earlier. I know everything in our lives happens for a reason. Sometimes it's beyond our control. Sometimes there are consequences to choices. I know that only I can give someone the power to intimidate me.
All the trauma involved in Julia & I surviving her arrival was so overwhelming, that at the time it shook my self confidence. I questioned my own abilities as mother because she was so frail after she was born. It didn't help that an in-law was there waiting to underwhelm my confidence. I foolishly assumed she knew whereof she spoke. Had I been informed that she had the same mental illness that afflicted my brother, I might have questioned more, and relied more on my own knowledge. It's like I forgot that I had a respectable intellect and for several years had raised other people's children at their behest. I provided daycare for young children, and they and their parents had faith in my abilities.
Why in God's name, did I assume these sister-in-laws knew more than me? I have always been open to learning. My IQ was just 1 point shy of mensa in 1966, when it was tested. Since then, I have tested anywhere from 140's to 170's, a decent average. I was raised by a mother that always made me feel cherished. With her as role model, I should never have doubted myself.
My in-laws are gifted at tearing down self-esteem. After all, they managed to convince Ralph he was DISABLED, and made excuses for his behaviors instead of holding him accountable for his actions. Repercussions for their ill-advised raising are being felt to this day. One of his distant relatives said he had grown up more since we were married than he had his first 29 years. We had only been married a few years then. Don't think I am unaware of Ralph's developmental limitations, but he is capable of so much more than his environment fostered.
I wonder how much more he would have gained if he had had Ken's counsel a few more years. He had such patience with Ralph. Ken was my daddy, where Paul Hile was my FATHER, very different personalities and approaches to parenting. I was so lucky growing up with two dads. I wish I had appreciated it more when they were still here.
Juli and I are still recovering from the pain inflicted by Ralph's family. By the time Juli came along as the last Carter grandchild, his mother probably thought we wouldn't be capable of parenting. She acted as if she were trying to correct Juli in our place, to the point where it damaged Juli's ability to be close like she was with my mother. Juli still loves and respects her Grandmother Carter, but too many wedges have been driven between them by the family. His sisters blame me because Juli has sought pro's against them. Her own words, "Mom, I could always tell they didn't like or respect you. "
It didn't help that when I was struggling with caring for Momma, and trying to manage two households, their idea of help was to call in welfare and to remind Juli that if she didn't put away her toys, welfare would take her away. One of them told her not to cry when she was six and my mother, the light of her life, died, or else mommy might go nutso (or equivalent thereof). Juli was so afraid, she didn't cry for a year.
I take comfort that they will have to answer for their actions someday, as will we all when we stand before the Lord. I know I am far from innocent. I have apologized to Juli for not being stronger. I still fight feelings of intimidation. I haven't forgotten Mike holding a knife at my throat during one of his psychotic breaks. I also haven't forgotten that Ralph is the only one of his Carter siblings that DOESN'T have a firearm of some type in the house. We sold or gave away all of them. We acknowledge our problems and feel wiser not owning guns. I find it questionable that someone who is schizophrenic can not only own a gun, but bluster about it to intimidate me.
I know Julia is an adult now at 18. But I still try to live by example to her. I was so worried about not marrying a violent man like my dad, I never considered checking out my husband's family and their mental status. It was difficult growing up with Dad & Mike being schizophrenic. Perhaps I should have known that at least two out of three sister-in-laws were schizophrenic? I love Ralph now, as much as when I married him, but in spite of his human failings, not because of what he does or doesn't do. He has struggled against his development in learning to be a good husband and father. It would have helped had he not been raised as the center of his universe and been taught accountability. He doesn't realize that they did this because they did not believe in him and all that he could be capable of. I realize those were different times. I still think they are accountable for his training.

"I am woman, hear me roar, in numbers too big to ignore, I know too much to go back and pretend. Because
I've heard it all before and I've been down there on the floor, NO ONE'S EVER GONNA' KEEP ME DOWN AGAIN!
Oh, yes, I am wise, but it's wisdom born of pain. Oh, yes, I've paid the price, but look how much I've gained. If I have to, I can do anything. I AM STRONG. I AM INVINCIBLE, I AM WOMAN....
You can bend but never break me, 'cause it only serves to make me, more determined to achieve my final goal, I'll come back even stronger, not a novice any longer, 'cause you've deepened the conviction in my soul.
Oh, yes, I am wise, but it's wisdom born of pain. Oh, yes, I've paid the price, but look how much I've gained. If I have to, I can do anything. I AM STRONG. I AM INVINCIBLE, I AM WOMAN...."

There is another verse, but you get the point. I am embracing my inner Helen Reddy!

Sunday, April 18, 2010

"Sunshine Go Away Today"

Yes, I know it's a sixties protest song(actually 1971), but it fits today. The song by Jonathon Edwards can be viewed at youtube.com. I'll post the link and lyrics at the end.
I feel the need to protest my in-laws. Not all of them, just the two who think they rule the world, or at least us. I mean the roller coaster from the dark side they've had us on lately is inhuman. First, we were invited to Grandma's shindig, then we were told not to come, then we were, then the grand Command performance where we were ordered to Grandma's apartment and told we could come, wish her a Happy Birthday, eat exactly one plate of food, excuse ourselves and leave. That was bad enough. But today showed that they have not a shred of human kindness or MANNERS!
Larry Lee offered to give us a ride to the party, but with Juli due to have surgery Friday, we seriously gave thought to only having Ralph go. After agonizing over it, we decided to attend, but keep our presence limited in focus. We tried in every way not to bring unwelcome attention to our presence. Turns out, we weren't the problem. While we were eating our ONE plate of food each, the senior surviving sister, bent over to speak to Ralph, just to tell him to relay a message to Julia, that she was not to take pictures, ESPECIALLY of the kids! Juli is NOT a pedophile, or a STALKER! She merely wanted photos to remember her ONLY living Grandma by, especially since she's 90 and won't be around forever! To be singled out and treated like this was bad enough.
Juli has Hidradenitis Suppurativa, is having her third surgery for this on this coming Friday, and was just sitting quietly unobtrusively as possible. This psycho ostracized her after telling us not to cause anything! Juli will be lucky to live a full life. The longer of average recorded histories is 40-50 years, with many HS sufferers perishing younger due to vulnerability to several cancers. That is best case scenario for a disease that usually doesn't start till after puberty in late teens. Juli has suffered from this since age 8, an extraordinarily young age. She has reached stage 3 of 4 well before she turned 18 last fall. Not a promising start. (look for a link to this as well)
I just lost my only, my older brother on Good Friday. It has hit us financially as well, since I am the only survivor of our nuclear family. I have younger step-siblings, siblings-in-love, I call them. They have truly shown me what family should be, disfunctional though it may be. They are there when the chips are down.
I am at a loss on how to deal with this family. Juli plans to change her last name. Not just because she is a writer, but legally because the last name Carter has only meant pain to her, all her life long. I can't say as I blame her. When people choose pettiness, hatred and being venomous over love, some times you just have to walk away to survive. I lost my Mike for the better part of 35 years due to drugs. I think I prefer that to being sober and being treated with hatred, unadulterated, and childish tantrums.
So, Carter family, while we would never keep Ralph from you (God knows why, but he still loves you all??!), stick a fork in me, I am SO DONE.
You will never hurt my baby again, God as my witness! If anyone wants to GROW UP, and get past this, you will be welcome in our hearts and home.
Oh, and as for Julia's other aunt...the restraining orders wouldn't have been necessary if you had respected our boundaries as a family and allowed us to parent Julia. You had no right to inspect her school records and the idiots that allowed you unlimited access I hope are unemployed. You violated laws and privacy to go places you had no right. I offered to apply for the TRO, but Juli said that she was an adult, and it was her decision that you had no business throwing a tantrum at her doctor's office that upset her doctor so, that it was notated in her permanent medical record. She ended up switching doctors because she was so embarrassed and angered by this violation.
I have set the record straight. I hope that someday I can look at you without seeing my daughter's tear-streaked face, but I doubt it. I am a Mother after all. I am her mother, and you need to back off. If I had had the courage to tell you this 18 years ago, maybe Julia would be stronger. Still she is much more loving than you have ever been or ever will be. I am so proud of her.
So, as the song says, "you can't even run your own life, I'll be d@mned if you'll run mine!"

Lyrics: Sunshine Go Away
Sunshine go away today
I don't feel much like dancing
Some man's gone, he's tried to run my life
Don't know what he's asking

He tells me I'd better get in line
Can't hear what he's saying
When I grow up I'm going to make it mine
But these aren't dues I been paying

(Chorus)
How much does it cost, I'll buy it
The time is all we've lost, I'll try it
But he can't even run his own life
I'll be damned if he'll run mine, Sunshine

Sunshine go away today
I don't feel much like dancing
Some man's gone he's tried to run my life
Don't know what he's asking

Working starts to make me wonder where
The fruits of what I do are going
He says in love and war all is fair
But he's got cards he ain't showing

(Chorus)

Sunshine come on back another day
I promise you I'll be singing
This old world, she's gonna turn around
Brand new bells'll be ringing

Links: Sunshine Go Away: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_4Vu-P9qVoc
Hidradenitis Suppurativa: http://www.hs-support.uni.cc/hidradenitis-suppurativa-faq/

Thursday, January 21, 2010

They're All Just Songs About Me

Anyone who has known me for any length of time knows that I am a music addict. I'm sure there are people who listen to a wider variety of music than me, but pretty much from the time I get up til I crash, I have music on. Music is a placeholder, a book mark of a moment in time.

I have very few memories left of my Grandma Streby, as she passed when I was six. It's been almost twelve years, the memories are yellowed and faded. However, a few memories are as clear as day. One of those memories is Grandma's choice in music. Patsy Cline. Everything in Grandma's life could be summed up in a Patsy song. I remember early on listening to old school country with Grandma, Patsy's 'Walking After Midnight'. This is one of the most played songs in my iTunes because it was Grandma's song.

Afternoons, when I was in elementary school, were spent with Aunt Carla. We'd run errands, do homework, crafts, cook, and listen to Garth Brooks. I will always associate Garth Brooks with Aunt Carla. Always. Garth Brooks and 'Austin' by Blake Shelton. The songs that played on the radio when we rode around in that old F-150.

My Daddy and I have always had a really rocky relationship. There was always lots of fighting and things said and done that I'd rather forget. I do remember every time we fought when I was in middle school ended with me sobbing and singing along with Billy Currington's 'Walk A Little Straighter'.

Sugarland's 'Want To' will always take me back to 7th and 8th grade and my long lasting, horrifically mortifying crush on James Fehring. 'Hot Blooded' will always take me back to bad days freshman year, linking arms with Emily and skipping through the hallways as we belted out the eighties anthem at the top of our lungs. 'Me and Charlie Walkin' will always, always, always make me think of David.

The summer after I got my license, Tyler and I went to go see Maid Of Honor at the Rave. We were coming home at like eleven at night. The windows were down, Tyler's feet were out the window as my hand pounded on the steering wheel and we blasted AAR's "Move Along" at an ear splitting decibel.

Or starting Driver's Ed the same week Kenny Chesney's "Never Wanted Nothing More" premiered on the radio. Nights spent dancing to 'Stronger' by Britney Spears with Mallorie as our Mommas laughed. Driving to therapy and 'Bleed It Out' by Linkin Park drowning out the world.

One more memory and then I'm done. My angel girl, my cousin, Maryah and 'Everywhere' by Tim McGraw. I rewrote the lyrics to fit us and I'd walk around, holding her and singing it softly (and horribly offkey) til she fell asleep.

They're all just songs about me,
And who I am....
-Trace Adkins

That's why I am a music addict,
-Julia

Songs for an Epiphany

We all have them, those songs that make us think of our defining moments. Some of those songs may have even inspired us or spurred us on. I was driving home today listening to the radio, when Miley Cyrus' crossover hit, "The Climb", began to play, and ended just as I pulled into the driveway.
Some songs are related to our youth. I remember "Mairzy Doats" as my momma sang it to me when I was a little girl. I also adored a 45 rpm record I had of "the Smokey The Bear song". There were children's shows on Sunday morning. One involved a double decker bus that led to an underground clubhouse set somewhere in England, I am sure. I remember one of the older girls, sat in a rocking chair singing to a smaller child a song about "Granny's Rocking Chair" and how you could travel anywhere in said chair.
I remember dark cold mornings waiting for the school bus and the long ride, listening to the bus' radio. We were lucky to be among the first on, and able to choose seats beneath the speakers. I loved the songs of my teens, and sang lustily to "Little Willie" and "Bohemian Rhapsody".
I remember sad songs, such as "Sad Songs", or "Daddy Don't You Walk So Fast". I daydreamed to "Love me, Love me, Love" and "Music Box Dancer" and "Heaven on the 7th Floor".
Then, there were the songs we fell in love to. For Ralph & I, it was Donny Osmond's "Sacred Emotion". Corny, yes I know. I also got stirred up a lot listening to the reggae version of "This Magic Moment" that was used in the movie "Cocktail".
I have to devote a separate paragraph to the Beatles. Their music was so much a part of my life's memories and defining moments. I remember listening to them on Spring Break trips to Kentucky riding in the pickup camper with my older brother. I loved "Hey Jude" and "Paperback Writer". The collected works of the Beatles are so numerous that there is virtually at least one Beatles song defining moment in most of baby boomers lives. I would like to know your Beatles moment & song.
I know for many, Michael Jackson offers similar associations as the Beatles as defining their memories. For others, it may be country or Christian music. For example, my daughter's early years were spent loving Dolly Parton's "Coat of Many Colors" and she adored Mary Kate & Ashley's kids songs and Kid Songs' kid songs.
I know everyone has a story and every story has background music. I have songs that play in my head for every memory I revisit. I even have songs that evoke thought of certain people. For my late friend, Anita, the song "Stronger" by Britney Spears makes memories rush back.
I am certain that "The Climb" will define a moment for somebody. There is a place for comments, please, leave a comment with your defining moment & the song intrinsic to it.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

"I'm Just In A Mood" - by Julia Carter

“I’m just in a mood…” is probably the most overused phrase in my life. I have Bipolar Disorder and it basically puts my moods all over the map. Sometimes I’m hyper and crazy and say or do things that scare the living shit out of people. Other times I’m depressed and hardly say two sentences all day (which also scares the shit out of people). Sometimes I’m normal - and that’s alright.

I’m just so SICK of justifying how I feel. I’m depressed. I didn’t chose to be depressed. I’m sorry I am and I wish I didn’t have to be. I can’t chose to stop it and I didn’t chose to start it. I’m manic. I didn’t ask for my brain to speed up and I can’t get it to slow down. You’re just gonna have to deal with it til the storm ends. If not, there’s the door. You can walk out of my life just like everyone else has.

If I’m quiet or mad or hyper. Just hang on, it’ll pass. I promise. It comes in spurts and sometimes the moods last for awhile, but I’m still me. I’m out of my mind for a moment, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.

I didn’t ask to have Bipolar Disorder, so please don’t judge me for it.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

The Gift of Bipolar...

I get a more than a little irritated at the way television and other media portray bipolar disorder, aka manic depression. I know that medication makes a huge difference, but I think that there is a part of this condition that is not a curse but a gift.

I have been afflicted by this gift most of my adult life, but never thought of it as a condition until it was diagnosed as such. I had been through the depressive phases as a teen and just thought it was typical teen angst. I was told during my freshman year of college, that I needed to suck it up and my momma needed to "take me off the tit". Nice language from the assistant dean, with a degree in psychology, huh? I was always accused of being moody. I just thought I was a 'night owl' and never realized it was hypomania. In fact, I never thought there was anything wrong with me. I always thought my racing thoughts as being gifted, part of what gave me the ability to read over 1k words per minute with 100% comprehension. I just figured it was sort of like my mildly eidetic memory (not perfect, polluted by tons of ridiculous minutiae). Who knew?

I firmly aver that were I not diagnosed, I would be merrily tripping through life in blessed ignorance. I remember a time when my Avon district manager (the 1st during the ten years I sold) said she had to replay my messages several times to catch everything I said. She theorized I talked so fast, because I was trying to keep up with my mind which was going 90 miles per hour.

The way I see it, what psychology calls bipolar disorder is just a mind that does not know it is supposed to calm down and allow the body to rest. It is like a brain with no OFF switch. This alone would not be problematic, except the human body requires rest to recharge. Without this critical down time, the body weakens, tires, and the mind begins to experience errors in judgment. Exhaustion seems to be what triggers the depressive phases. The perfect metaphor is a dog 'worrying' a bone. He gnaws and gnaws at it, unable to leave it alone. Most of my depressive states occurred when I had some sort of sad experience or fnancial worry. When I would try to go to sleep, my mind would seize this worry or sadness and become so consumed with it till it overwhelmed all my waking and sleeping moments. Kind of like a record being stuck on an endless loop repeating the same phrase over and over. It was probably some one with bipolar disorder that came up with brainwashing and torture techniques by emulating what their own mind did to them.

After the crash and resulting downtime, comes the building euphoria, known as mania or hypomania, depending on extent of behavior. For me, it would be feeling too wide awake to sleep when I was younger, and 4 am shopping trips to wal-mart in more recent days. Being a little manic is such an exuberant state. It can be such a rush.

It is completely understandable why bipolars go off meds. It is difficult to find the med that best offers you the balance to have down time to rest without being depressed and the energy to enjoy life without being practically catatonic. My 1st year medicated, I basically lost that year. I was almost catatonic, to the point that I didn't care about anything or anyone. At least it seemed that way. My doctor tried steadily decreasing doses of the most popular med at that time, but even at half the lowest dose, I was still basically nonfunctional. I cringe every time I see this med being advertised on tv. My system was way too sensitive for classic meds. I ended up with a mild antidepressant that has the benefit of being thought to help my diabetic neuropathy. I am probably slightly manic much of the time, but I never was extremely manic. I can enjoy life on an intellectual basis at least. My diabetes still tends to be a drag physically.

I title this blog the gift of bipoolar because of a book I read early in my marriage because of Ralph having two types of dyslexia. It focused on what you CAN do, not what you can't. I feel this way about being bipolar.

I embrace the life I have, because, all I am, who am, is because of all I experience. This wisdom was courtesy of Star Trek, we are the sum total of our experiences. Change one experience, one obstacle, and you change your entire person.

I am at peace with who I am, and I choose to be me!

My Heart Will Go On...


(This post is dedicated to Aiden Anthony Rossi, who left this world far to early, and his mom & dad, Kasey & Brandon, our hearts go out to you...)

An Open Letter to Kasey & Brandon (& anyone who has ever lost a child born too soon)

I titled this post, "My Heart will go on..", yes, the song from Titanic. I am including the lyrics at the end of this post. When you read them, this will make sense.

Kasey, you were born on or around Father's Day. It stands out vividly in my mind because when Ralph & I went out on our second date, we took your aunt Carla over to visit you. You were beautiful right from the beginning of your life and still are. That was the day Uncle Ralph asked me to marry him (he didn't waste time). We were in love and in a hurry to get our lives together started. I got pregnant early on. Somewhere along the line, something went wrong. I figured to be close to 20 weeks when we finally saw the doctor. The test said I was definitely pregnant, but the doctor couldn't hear the heartbeat so he sent us for an ultrasound. The placenta had remained, but the fetus was no longer there. We lost the pregnancy without even being aware it was happening. I had to have a d & c, but we had no baby to say goodbye to. Well meaning relatives offered all the usual words that were supposed to comfort us. Each word felt like a knife through the heart. All I knew, was that the baby I had felt moving and had fallen in love with was gone. I grieved, and felt broken to my soul. I didn't want comfort, I wanted my baby back.
People offered tons of advice, even suggesting we maybe shouldn't have kids. (could you even dream of a world without Julia?!?!) It was a really painful time because it seemed like everyone else in the world was having babies. There was a baby boom where Uncle Ralph & I worked. I remember finding out a coworker & friend was having a baby and she was single. She wasn't even sure the father wanted to be involved. It just seemed so unfair. I was so certain I would never get over the loss. I would start to function and when I least expected it, the grief would hit me again. After only a couple of months trying, I was pregnant again, but I was so afraid. I remember sitting and looking at the test and crying and being so afraid it wouldn't last. I had so many problems carrying Julia because of my obesity and the complications of that pregnancy. I had placenta previa where the placenta attaches at or over the cervix. I nearly lost her and was put on bedrest in hopes as the placenta grew, it would grow upwards. It did, but then I was hit with gestational diabetes, and toxemia/preeclampsia. She was premature, either 4, 6, or 8 weeks depending on which doctor you asked. You obviously know she survived. Still, I remember looking at her after she was born, wondering if I was dreaming or she was really mine and here, even though she was the only girl born that week.
Her arrival, made the loss that went before bittersweet. As much as we wanted that baby, had it survived, we wouldn't have had her. I will always miss that little baby that I always thought of as a boy (Ralph & I would have named it after him). I don't know why we had to go through the pain of that loss, and I won't this side of Heaven. I just trust that God had a reason. It still hurts after all these years. I won't lie and say it doesn't. My heart has gone on, it had to for Juli's sake and my own. There are times through the years the subject of the baby that would have been comes up. I think of him as an angel that watches over Juli.
No one can tell you how you will get through the pain, but you will. Your mom is a survivor and she raised all of you to be survivors too. She can be a great comfort to you having been through the same thing. I know my mom helped me survive, because she knew, she had been there.
My heart goes out to you and Brandon. I have walked this path too. Each of us walks the path through grief in our own way. Don't let anyone diminish your grief
in any way. Ignore anyone, even if they mean well, that start a phrase with, it was probably for the best, or it wasn't meant to be. No matter how short a life is, it always matters. Aiden may have been here too briefly, but he was beautiful and had meaning and purpose. God took this precious angel home too early by our wishes. I pray His comfort over you. When we are curled up in our deepest grief, we are that little child resting in God's hand as He carries us through our grief to what lies ahead. May you find peace. Know that God loves Aiden so much, and He's holding him for you, until the time we all are together in Heaven.

I promised the lyrics to you:

(if the link doesn't show up when I publish, they are on videos on youtube, the video I used was 'myheart will go on lyrics posted by dalekGASP, beautiful, I tried 3 times to embed)