Authenticity

July is here, and with just one day in so far, it’s everything that I knew and feared it would be. Others who have unfortunately walked in my shoes have reached out to me recently. One even commented, “I am sorry that coming to you is the toughest of all the firsts.” She is so right…it’s not even here yet and I feel it. July 10th, 2017 is when Carter made the decision to end his life, and by doing so, he took what pain he was feeling and transferred part of it to me. I’ve had to live with it for nearly a full year now, and as we get closer and closer to the anniversary of his passing, the only word that comes to my mind for what I feel is torment. I’m tormented by what his thoughts must have been, by what I saw that morning, by the memories we were making that week, how we aren’t making any of those again this year, and by the “what-ifs” that are always present in my mind. What if I had gone in to kiss him goodnight and checked in on him before going to bed myself? What if I had gotten up earlier that morning-would I have been able to save him? What if I hadn’t gone jogging with Caroline and JoJo the night before? What if we had continued doing family devotions before bedtime and praying?

I posted a picture on FB yesterday with a French caption that states, “Tu me manques” which translates to “a part of me is now missing” and that is probably the most accurate statement regarding loss that I have seen. Screw “Time heals all wounds.” Screw “God needed another angel” (bull). Screw “Everything happens for a reason” (just shut UP already). NO, NO, NO. A part of me is missing and always will be. It hurts beyond comprehension. There’s really no way to express it. There’s no word for it. You just have to feel it to get it, and Lord knows, I wouldn’t want anyone to feel this pain.

Joseph made the comment in the car last night that Carter is still making an impact by touching hearts and lives and that he had often thought of all the great things Carter would do in life as he got older. He said that it is starting to dawn on him now that just because Carter’s not physically here to do those things, it doesn’t mean that he won’t still achieve greatness.  He feels in his heart that I’m going to be his voice and that greatness will come through me telling his story. I don’t think he even realized the magnitude of what he said and how that affected me. I just swallowed hard past a lump that had suddenly formed in my throat. How am I going to be able to live up to that expectation? Carter was absolutely extraordinary, and I know that his legacy will require SOMEONE to speak for him. The fact that it appears to be me is both an honor that I will gladly take on but also one that is scary and daunting. I want to do a good job. I want to make him proud of me. I want to live my life and tell about his life in a way that points people to Jesus, gives them hope, and encourages kindness and love to all men. That’s what Carter would have done and how he would have lived as he grew up, because that was how he lived for 12 years and nearly 5 months.

At this point I must be honest and share that in telling his story and sharing his life with you, I already feel a little pressure. That’s a feeling that I wasn’t expecting, but it’s here. Pressure to do great things, pressure to please people, pressure to have a good testimony, pressure to make my words matter, pressure to be relatable so that people will want to continue to read what I write, and pressure to be REAL. The last one is what I am struggling with because nobody wants to be real anymore, and it feels like I am going against the grain a little bit by attempting it.

Personally I am wary of people who always have it together. I want to smack them and say, “What the hell is wrong with you?” Nobody is that perfect, and it makes me a little ill when they portray themselves to be what we all know is not sustainable. I have actually unfollowed IG accounts because of stories and feeds that were so syrupy sweet it made my teeth hurt. No, thanks. It’s not that I am envious of those people…I just don’t think that it is healthy to be inundated with phoniness. Furthermore, I have no desire to “keep up with the Joneses” which can often result from what is seen on social media. The Joneses are probably drowning in debt, cheating on their spouses, trying to drink their problems away, and screaming at their kids. You just don’t get to see any of that because they choose to crop it out.

So, today, I vow to be as authentic as possible with my feelings, my account of Carter’s life and death, and how I’m processing it all. This blog will be my means to do that, because there’s no real platform on social media. Social media is where everyone is happy, beautiful, filtered, and living their best life.

Hardly anyone wants to be authentic. Why? Because it’s not always attractive. It’s definitely not all wrapped in a pretty package with a coordinated bow. There’s no pre-printed label that has been downloaded from Pinterest with adorable calligraphy. Rather, authenticity is more like a hexagon that has been wrapped in cheap dollar-store gift wrap that’s thin as tissue paper. Sharp corners manage to burst forth while clear tape tries its best to hold them all together. There’s no actual gift tag. It’s just a Sharpie being used to write somewhat haphazardly the names of the recipient and giver. The bow is rather pitiful, too…all smushed and a little droopy. It once was shiny and sparkly. Now it’s just kinda sad. The package overall is ugly on the outside, but its beauty is found within. You just have to look past the surface.

That’s my vision for this blog. To be real and authentic. To show the beautiful, to show the damaged parts, to show hope, to show despair, and to show that even in the hard times, God is still good. That’s the beauty found within- past all the hurt, bitterness, and torment is faith, hope, and love. My faith tells me that I will see my boy again. I have hope in the promises found in God’s Word. It’s because of Jesus’s love for me that I can face tomorrow.

His Word says that there is nothing new under the sun, and how true it is. We are also more alike than we are different. On one hand, my feelings are the same as others who have walked this road, but on the other hand, they’re unique to me because I am the only mother to Carter and God only made one like him. So as you read this blog, perhaps you can relate to much of what I am saying, and if not, then maybe you can use it to help someone else. Hurting people are everywhere. Everyone needs to be shown love and kindness. We all need each other to make it in this crazy, dark world we find ourselves in. If me living out all the darkness and ugly (suicide loss) while shining light on the beautiful and good (my Lord and Carter) can help someone, then I’m willing to do so, but only if I can do so openly and honestly.

So, July is here and it’s awful. But Carter was mine and it’s up to me to tell the world about him and how wonderful he was, so that is a beautiful thing.

And the what-ifs are horrendous. Hearing worn-out cliches grates on my ever-last nerve. But knowing that people are praying for me and uttering words in those intercessory prayers that I can’t even utter myself is such a comfort and encouragement.

I have a lot of tears, especially at night when the house is quiet and my thoughts are sometimes more than I can bear. Yet, during many of my days, I share a ton of smiles and laughter with family and friends who are doing their best to love us through the pain.

Please, if you have read this far, please continue to pray us through the coming week. I’ll be blogging a lot because I’m feeling a lot, and most of it is scary and hard to process. But I promise to look for the rose among the thorns and share it as well. Authenticity is not always easy, but it IS necessary and I’ll do my best to be true to myself and my boy as I go through one of the hardest weeks on this grief journey so far. Thank you for holding my hand and traveling with me.

And to my sweet Carterbug- this one thing I know and can promise you: