Borrowed Time

 

When we are kids, we wonder how time seems to pass so slowly. We ask our parents why can't we do that one special thing sooner. We ask them how much longer until our birthday. We tick down the hours with such diligence as we play with our friends with the hopes that by doing so it would go by quicker.  Without fail, our parents would say, "don't wish your time away - when you get older, your time will seem to go by way faster".  That concept never made sense to me as kid. Yet, I say the same thing to my kids. I said the same thing to my kids. I say the same thing to my kid. Read that again. The grammar is correct. You read that right. 

Everyday that we wake up, we are on borrowed time. We borrow the special time with our children, with our significant other, with our beloved pets. We borrow our time with work, with financial stability and with our health. It is never our time. It is borrowed. Some say it is God giving us this time to cherish. If that's the case, then I have some serious questions. 

I can't remember what I had for breakfast, or even if I had breakfast, lunch or dinner in any given day.  But I sure can remember every moment leading up to Bryanna's final breaths as I laid in her hospital bed and they looped Katy Perry's Fireworks and took her off Echmo. I remember picking of Evey and Liam. I remember what each kiddo said to me and Mike when we told them that their 9 year old sister, their best friend died that day - October 24th, 2016. 

I remember every painful second of December 15th as well. It was only ten days until Christmas morning - Evey's favorite holiday. My borrowed time was taken back. It was cut short. I remember every single minute of that day. I remember panicking because I couldn't see her rescue medication in my hand. I remember holding Evey's nose, putting my mouth over hers and breathing for her. I tried to breathe life back into my girl. I remember my best friend doing chest compressions while talking to 911.  I remember Liam running to his room in the loft and calling 911 on his alexa device. I remember Socks trying to get to Evey but so scared. I remember every painstaking second of that day. 

I remember the exact moment that both Jenn and I knew we lost her. The moment that the light went out of her eyes. With Bryanna, she simply was. It was peaceful. She was given a significant amount of medication to mitigate any pain she would feel caused by her cancer, her failing liver, her failing kidneys, her failed lungs and her failed heart. She just simply slipped away to her Cotton Candy Clouds while listening to her favorite song. In my arms. I held her. I held her and hugged her and loved her until I panicked. She was no longer warm. It happened too fast - her doctors assured me it was normal.  No, it absolutely was not normal. Holding your 9 year old girl who is dying from cancer was indeed, not normal. 

But it was different with Evey. I knew the exact moment her soul left her body. I felt it in my soul. I didn't want to believe it. I kept breathing life into her lungs as long as I could while we continued chest compressions until EMS arrived. I remember the moment I sat on the back of my couch with the officer who had responded to one of the early days of her elopment. She found a box turtle that day. She had to save it, got turned around and ended up 2 miles from home. Now, we were sitting on the back of my couch watching the lucas machine pumping blood through Evey's body, EMS pumping meds, fluids multiple lines and calmly talking it through as they tried to get her back. I watched the officers on my stairs. I watched them take her out my sliding glass door on a stretch and into the ambulance. Still not giving up. I remember the moment that I asked the ambulance driver why we weren't meeting a medivac chopper and she said "Because there is no heartbeat".  I remember seeing Liam outside with his village. I remember the entire ER staff looking at me when we came in because they knew. They were waiting. The patient advocate was waiting. I remember having to give her a final hug. I remember my friends gathered outside her hospital room door, watching with so much love in their eyes. I remember all of that. I remember every painstaking detail. 

Borrowed time is a cruel concept. Why do some people get a longer life with their family?  How do some families get to see their kids off to college, get married and have kids?  What have I done in my life to get so little borrowed time?

I remember the exact moment in court when Mike, their dad and my ex-husband of 10 years blamed me for both Bryanna and Evey's death. I remember the exact moment that he also said that Liam would end up the same because of me. He took precious time away from my kids to blame me for something that was not my fault. He took time I had with the kids away to hurt me more. Intentionally. During my borrowed time.

All I ever wanted to be is a mom. I'm not perfect but I think that I do a pretty good job. My kids, each and every one of them and I have all been very close. Life seems cruel, and painfully unfair at times. 
But that borrowed time brought me the most profound love, compassion and three beautiful souls that called and still call me mom. I am so very grateful for each and every second of my time with my kids. I only wish I had more time with my girls.  

Liam and I are navigating this painfully slow road of finding our new normal. We have to figure out how to make more noise in a house that is now oddly quite. I have to find a way to eat because Evey was my foodie, liam perfers his safe foods. I have to find a way to no longer have my girl talking to me and telling me something super amazing while I cook dinner. I have to find away to not desperately want the insanely strong hip bumps from my girl who definately was taller than me. I have to find away to wear my shirts that Evey used to borrow. I have to find away to deal with the fact that I have nothing that smells like my girl anymore. Her shoes still remain where she put them in the shoes cabinet. Her room is lovingly now taken over by Liam and his pets...intentionally. Instead of having my two girls talking about dances, boys, best friends and the animals they love, I have pictures. I only have memories now.

My borrowed time hurts. But I am so thankful for that time.  I desperately beg all the gods to please give me more borrowed time with Liam. I need him to grow up and have more than this. I need him to become an adult - to tell me about his jobs, girlfriends, pets - maybe even his own home one day. 

I know we are on borrowed time. I hope for your sake you get all that time you want and need with the people that you love. I hope that you get more than me. Because faking being okay every day is exhuasting. Not being okay everyday is exhuasting. Having only memories of our borrowed time is...

 I said I love you to all my kids all the time. Last night Liam said, 'you say it a lot' to which I replied, 'isn't it better to know how loved you are than to not know at all?'.  He quitely processed that. A few minutes later he said "Mom, I love you".

Hug your kids. Tell them you love them. You can't control the time that you borrow - but you can control the quality of that time.  Use your borrowed time wisely. When it's gone, there is no getting it back. 

The Purple Bicycle

 Do you ever wonder what happens when a child finds the one thing that they love more than anything? They use it again, and again and again. When Evey was 14, I found the cutest bike on Amazon marketplace for Evey. It was 25.00. We all got packed into my car, went to the ATM and carefully navigated the driveway to this unknown person's house.  If you know me, you know that the safety of my kids puts me in a position to never go to people's house that I don't know. In this day and age, it seems like the smart thing to do. Then again, with online market places and unbeatable deals through social media, it's also a bit behind the times.  I told the kids to stay close and not explore without me there. We got out of the car and walked to the side of the house that the could-be-serial-killer told us to go to. A lady was just leaving seemingly in good spirits from that same side. It seemed safe...ish. As we approach the side of the house, we see a sprawling backyard with so many items saved from likely the dump. Liam was apprehensive but Evey's eyes lit up. This was her paradise. This, my friends, was where she was meant to be in that moment. If you knew Evey, you would know that she LOVED to find previously loved items and gift them to someone else - not just anyone, but someone who she knew would absolutetly love that particular item.  I reigned her in so we could focus on this bike.  It was a shiney purple bike with a wide seat. Something you would see in a movie with the character peddaling around ocean streets with a whimsical straw hat on and flowers and french bread in her basket. It was perfect. This purple bike was meant to be Evey's bike. While I paid for it, Liam lucked out and got to pick out some treasure for himself - "on the house" said the limping old man whose entire life was clearly in this backyard with the mission to repurpose each loved item.  After a few minutes, Liam emerged with a very dusty toy car that he found on some shelf in one of the many open sheds filled to the rim with loved and cherished items. He had stars in his eyes that day. Evey was estatic - it was the first bike that she got to pick out. It had the perfect spot for a basket on the back of the bike, which she promptly hooked up with bungie ropes. 

This purple bicycle gave her the confidence to ride a bike without three wheels. The bigger seat made her feel secure so she no longer felt that she needed a seat back. We equipped it with the best wicker basket we had at the time. You may be wondering what did she put in it. Well, no, she did not put bread or flowers. She put two things. Her ever growing collection of squishies and Snow, her grey hen, that loved doing everything with her. Whether Snow liked it or not, Evey was going to get her used to her bike so that they could enjoy the neighborhood together. Snow quickly adapted and got comfy inside this basket as Evey rode her purple bike.  

Skipping ahead to 6 months later, I had to make the hard decision to uproot my kids and leave our home that we tried to share with my husband who we had only wed a year ago. The abuse was escalating, the drawings depicting her sadness increasing, and the trauma from the marriage had taken it's toll on us.  With the help of my close friend, we left while he was out of town (a story for another time), and I made sure to not just pack what would fit in my car, but Snow and her purple bicycle. 

Fast forward a few months as we settled into our new neighborhood - Evey became known as the girl with the purple bicycle. The girl with the purple bicycle walking her dog. The girl with the purple bicycle with her bearded dragon hitching a ride in her purse. This purple bicycle became her source of strength. She "walked" her 100 lb English Creme Golden Retriever Socks while she rode her bike. Socks was so intune to her that he never strayed far from her side. Neighbors knew Evey from that purple bicycle.  The purple bicycle that was so loved and used that one day Evey came home crying because as she was riding it, the front wheel decided to come off. Just rolled right off. If she wasn't so upsest, it would have been really funny.  She wasn't upset that she crashed because her tire literally came off,  but rather because she was afraid that her purple bicycle would have to be retired.  Thanks to some neighbors who were handy with bikes, we got that tire and bumper back on and her routine of riding her bike every day resumed. I made sure she had a nice basket on the front, a light on the front and reflector and light on the back. She was ready to rock it on the dark evenings on the way home from the park, or walking Socks. 

The purple bicycle became a source of stress relief for her. When Evey was feeling stressed, angy (or mad as she called it), upset or confused, she would ask to ride her bike. Riding her bike gave her an opportunity to think. Thinking was not easy for Evey. Thinking and processing the world took a lot of work for my girl. But not when she was on her purple bicycle. The world made sense on the purple bicycle. When life would feel to overwhelming, she would ask to go for a bike ride. She would do two loops around the neighborhood and then come back feeling calm. 

Evey didn't like walking because she had really severe pots. Her heart rate would soar just walking a little bit, but it was much easier when she was on her bike. That purple bike went to the park, to the neighbor's house, to the dog park, to the laundry mat, to the pool. It went wherever Evey's heart took her.  That purple bicycle saw more dips and grooves of our roads than most feet do. Evey knew every turn, every rocky part of the road, every dip and was able to skillfully navigate without falling, even though she had poor balance. The pride she had in herself when she was on that purple bicycle was so significant that words couldn't possibly do it justice.  This from a girl who never thought she would ride a bike. 

The joy that the purple bicycle brought one young girl extends beyond one heart and into the heart of the entire neighborhood. 

Now the purple bicycle sits. It has not been moved since the last time that Evey asked to go for a bike ride. The day before she died. The day before the worst day of my life happened for a second time. 
The purple bicycle was a symbol of strength, perseverance and courage for an amazing young teenager. A teenager that struggled with anxiety, depression, ARFID, Epilepsy, Autism, Sensory Processing Disorder and Pots. It was a symbol of community as neighbors dropped off tokens of their love for my girl and her purple bicycle the day she died. 

Now, the purple bicycle sits.  It is stuck in a loop of love and hope, dust and perserverance. It sits there with the reminder of the memories made. The memories that only Evey could make as she brought this once used but now treasured rolling machine of courage come to life.  I don't know what will happen to her purple bicycle - but I do know that for now it sits where she put it. Evey made sure that it was in a specific spot in front of our home standing upright so that it was well loved and well taken care of. 

The purple bicycle - filled with love, hope, perserverance and bravery collects raindrops, pollen and the occasional bug.  It is a reminder that even the hardest things can be done and can bring smiles to more than one strong, brave young teenager.  The purple bicycle brought a community together - a community that rallied around one girl and her favorite purple bicycle.