Numbers

I’m not really a numbers person. I was #12 as a student-athlete in volleyball, so I guess you could say that is my favorite number. I think I prefer even numbers over odd ones. The first number I remember learning how to write was the #5 in kindergarten because the teacher explained that the top horizontal line was its “hat”. Carter’s favorite number was 5. He was born on 2-15-05, so maybe that was part of it. Anytime I see a post where I’m asked to pick a number (for instance, to sponsor a child for a gift or for a school need), I always pick #5 as my #kindnessforCarter good deed in his honor and memory.

Tonight (well, to be more precise…this morning) I woke up and stumbled into the kitchen to munch on some ice. It’s a very weird third-trimester pregnancy craving that I am experiencing which I find to be hilarious. I’m like a raging inferno on the inside- between the endless heartburn and night sweats it’s like a conflagration that spreads across every nerve ending and all I want to do is crunch on ice and strip naked and walk around the house with every fan on and the temperature set to 67 degrees. Thank God for darkness and for window blinds. As I chomped my way through a glass of ice chips and tried to tune into the mainstream media’s news recap of the day (which probably just added to my heartburn- good God, I’ll be so glad when this election is over), I happened to glance over at the stove and saw some numbers that stopped me in my tracks. The time was 4:33. Anytime I see that, I think of my sweet Carterbug, because that was the time he came into the world and changed my life forever.

Then it hit me…today is October 10th. He ended his life on the 10th of July, so today marks 39 months without him. I’m getting induced to have baby Carsen at 39 weeks. I turn 39 in December. My baby shower is today, on the 10th of the month. My baby shower with Carlen also fell on the 10th of the month. She was born one week early on 4-15-19, but her due date was 4-22. Carter was born one week early and his due date also fell on an even number: 2-22. There were 18 months between Carter and Caroline, and there’ll be 18 months between Carlen and Carsen. There are so many similarities between Carter and Carlen in particular that started literally from the day they were born, which makes me wonder how Carsen will fit into our family narrative and how much his life will remind me of his brother in heaven. For my new followers on here, I was scheduled for a hysterectomy the week we lost Carter to suicide. That morning, I was supposed to have my pre-op appointment after taking Carter to a summer camp. That appt. was cancelled and the surgery was postponed. A year later I became pregnant with Carlen, and now I’m about to give birth to a little boy who will complete our family. These babies literally wouldn’t exist if Carter were still with us, so of course I look for any and all signs of him through them. Their stories will forever and always be connected to his life and death.

Speaking of his death, he passed away on a date that was significant because of the numbers…07-10-17. If you look at that date, the numbers read the same frontwards and backwards. With words, we call those instances palindromes. Think of “racecar” or the name “Hannah”. I’m not sure what you call it when numbers are involved but it got me thinking. Did Carter choose the date of his suicide based on the numbers? He was brilliant, and we know that he had analyzed and planned his death based on the subsequent SLED investigation. It wasn’t a random, spur-of-the-moment flash of impulsivity. He didn’t leave us a note, so we’ll never actually know, but that’s part of what makes death by suicide so very devastating for those left behind because we literally question any and all details trying to make sense out of the senseless.

I shared in my last post about the process of going through Carter’s keepsakes in his room…poring over details in notebooks and school folders, searching for clues in doodles and sketches, thumbing through binders and papers trying to see something that would give me a sense of the inner turmoil he faced but kept hidden from us for a period of 4-6 weeks that summer. I found some things that broke my heart and hinted at his pain but no definitive answers, which is OK. It really is, because if he had left a note and told me that he hated me, was upset about something that I had said, cursed and told me to f*ck off, etc. I literally would not be able to live with myself. So it’s better that I don’t know. He has sent me signs and affirmations from heaven that have brought me immense peace over the past 3 years, so I just remind myself of those things when the guilt bears down and the burden gets heavier than normal.

So tonight I have pondered numbers and their significance and wondered if maybe Carter took his life at 4:33 on 7-10-17. I don’t think he would have done so at a random time. Everything he did was with intent and purpose. He was a planner like myself, shied away from spontaneity, and was detail-oriented. The last time I spoke with him was around midnight. His sister and I discovered him at 7:30. I never asked for the coroner’s report of when his estimated time of death was. There’s just some things I cannot bring myself to know. I already “know” too much because of the fact I saw him. His sister and I bear that burden and share the horror of living with it. It’s not a coincidence that she is back on the couch asleep right now instead of being in her room upstairs. She transitioned back up there over a month ago and has had zero issues to our knowledge, but last night she had a nightmare and told her Daddy she wanted to sleep on the couch. She probably doesn’t even realize that the 10th of another month has dawned…just like I don’t realize it most of the time, but it never fails that our bodies remind us. My mother’s heart and subconscious won’t let me sleep and I’m drawn to him, and her mind is burdened, too. He was her best friend. She saw a literal nightmare 3 years ago even though he had taken measures to protect her as best he could. I wish so badly that I could help her, but I can’t even help myself most of the time. I just write to process my grief. Caroline just stays busy like the Energizer Bunny and it has been really good for us to have Carlen in the house because so much of our days is consumed by her. We can count on her to bring us endless smiles and laughter even on our darkest days of grief.

And to think that in just two short weeks we’ll be bringing home another baby, this time a little boy who will be the epitome of sweet innocence and God’s grace. We are amazed at the goodness of the Lord. At Carlen’s baby dedication at church (us Baptists don’t believe in infant christenings or baptisms but do try to symbolize our faith through dedications modeled after Hannah’s prayer in the Old Testament concerning her son, Samuel), we had a dear couple sing a song that was sent to us a few days after we lost Carter. I didn’t listen to a lot of songs sent to me that week. I was so overwhelmed. I didn’t want to read Bible verses. I didn’t want to open links to articles. I didn’t want to talk to people. I didn’t want music. I just wanted my boy and since I couldn’t have him, literally nothing else mattered except listening to the grandfather clock chime in our living room and focusing on breathing through another hour. When I say that I literally counted time by the hour and just concentrated on hearing those chimes to get me through that first week, I’m being completely honest. It was all I knew to do because thinking of living my entire existence without him here was too incomprehensible. But one morning, I opened a FB message from a friend who had sent me a song and I listened to it, and it was perfect. Our friends sang it at Carlen’s dedication per my request (we normally don’t have songs during those times), and there was hardly a dry eye in the sanctuary. I was reminded of it again today and thought I’d share the lyrics in this post.

He Sees What We Don’t

“There are times in this life
When fear is so heavy,
And burdens weigh on your mind.
You are weak in the knee
And no strength can you find;
But, just hold on,
Help’s right on time.
My Jesus, He’s always on time.

And though you may see a valley,
He sees the mountain
You’ll be standing on.
When all you can see
Are the tears falling down.
I’m so glad He sees what we don’t.

I’ve seen God’s children walk through
the darkest of midnights.
I’ve witnessed faith put to the test.
I have watched as the storm blew in
with the thunder, but in each trial,
He knows what’s best.

And I am so glad He knows what’s best.

And though you may see your valley
He sees the mountain you’ll be standing on.
When all you can see are the
tears flowing down.
I’m so glad He sees what we don’t.

He knows the end from the beginning.
He looks ahead past the HURT and the pain.
To a place where the peace
passes all understanding.
He sees the sun through the rain.”

I’m thankful for the blessings He continually bestows and the fact that even though I have so many unanswered questions, my Lord sees what I don’t and He has my boy sheltered under His wings where there is nothing but peace and joy. He loves him more than I ever could because I’m only human. He’s God. He created him and He loved him before I ever knew him. I have put all of my faith, hope, and trust in knowing that one day I’ll be reunited with my Savior and my son and can say goodbye to this old world of sorrow. Until then, I’ll do my best to count my blessings and enjoy the time I get to spend with my children earth-side and husband who help bring light and laughter to my days.

Our days are numbered, friends. We don’t know how much time we have left. We don’t know the time on a clock when we’ll draw our last breath here. We don’t know the date when our loved ones will leave us. Treat each day like the treasure it is and make those seconds and minutes count for good as best you can. Let go of things you cannot change, pass on the negativity and toxicity of our culture as much as possible, and soak up the goodness of the Lord. I have seen and tasted of His mercy. He is indeed wonderful and a good, good Father to me. Not just today but everyday.

10-10-2020: That’s a good date to make today a good day. The month and day add up to the year. They are all even numbers. They make sense and are orderly (0,1,2).

In the craziness and absurdity of this year, purpose in your heart that today is going to mark a new beginning if you have been struggling. A new chapter. The year isn’t over as much as we wish at times that it would be. There are plenty of days to start over, make a fresh beginning, turn over a new leaf, whatever expression you want to use to “reset” your mind, body, and soul. Remind yourself that you can do hard things. Take each day one at a time, and if that’s too much, count the hours and minutes.

Those numbers are important. Each minute you’re here is an opportunity for the Lord to work through you and in your life. Allow His presence to speak peace and guide you. Much love and blessings to you all. Thank you for taking the time to share in my journey.

This is a quote that is on the wall in the new baby’s nursery. I find it fitting for today’s post.