Joy in the sorrow. Started painting again.

 

A dull thud against the window.  Then another.  It's been a month now.  Beautiful songs.  He has come every day now, except the day of the memorial.

He is not aggressive; his crest on his head is not raised as he hits the window. He hangs on the lower part (the screen) or flies at the top part of the window with a light thud. He hits it two or three times and then sits in the tree and sings.  

This cardinal started visiting my studio window about 3 days before my son, Kyle, went to meet Jesus.  I think all the good thoughts: he's not suffering any longer, he's in a better place, he's happy . . .  But sometimes it doesn't help.

I've lived in this house for 20 years and have never had a bird come to my window.   He often shows up at my upstairs window in the mornings, when I wake up with a soaked pillow and can't get out of bed.  He sits in the tree by the window and sings.  He has also followed me in the yard while I water the plants.

I also had a rainbow dance on the hood of our truck as we were driving home.  The colors sparkled in the misty rain and lit up the hood.  Never seen that before in my life!  Breathtaking! 

People say it's Kyle. That he's sending me messages that he's okay.  They say he wants me to know he is with me. 

My biggest heartache came from feeling excluded in the plans for Kyle's memorial.  I wanted to share what an amazing kid he was: a little evangelist, a prayer warrior with gifts of healing when he prayed for people!  I wanted to share my pictures and my good memories.  I thought anyone and everyone would love to see my pictures and hear the stories.  I wanted to write at least one down for the minister to read. 

I did get to have some of my images in the slide show.  And a few framed pictures on the table.  That helped my broken heart.

In the middle of the tears, trying to let go, and trying not to be angry over every little thing, this past week, I heard Kyle clearly say. "Mama, it's Ok.  I know them all now. I remember all of them, and nothing is forgotten anymore.  I understand the hard ones, too."   I laughed and cried.  It doesn't matter if anyone else cares or knows, because Kyle does. Then I thought, I must be losing my mind!

I know he is in my heart and my memories. He always will be.  But I was taught that we are not to talk to the dead, not to ask them questions, nor seek their spirit.  It is sorcery and rebellion against God.  So, I struggled with it. Especially when I heard him speak to me.

My pastor's wife said that this was a gift from God for my healing.  It's not the same as using a medium to contact our relatives.  She said that Kyle might be sending the cardinal to comfort me, and that there are times God sends us dreams, angels, or loved ones to help us.  She said if I am not seeking counsel from Kyle, or putting him above the Lord, then it is Ok to talk to him or receive his messages.

So now I tell him things from time to time. I apologize for the poor choices I made over the years, relive a good memory, or laugh when I find another penny where there wasn't one before.  I thank the Lord for the time I had with him.  

Yesterday was Easter, Resurrection Sunday.  I painted for the first time in over a month.  Just a nothing painting.  No expectations, no deadlines, just a simple start to something that might help me get back to living.  

I plan to do some paintings of cardinals soon.  What a beautiful expression of life and energy and hope. Brings me joy every time I hear him singing or see him near my window.

Turning point

 

Trying to get out of the dark thoughts.  Not easy. The depression is overwhelming. If I don't fight it, it takes me under.

~ I have to let myself off the hook.  I did what I believed was best for Kyle, even when he hated me for it.  Like making him move out when he was 18 and didn't want to work or go to school.  (He went to live with his dad.) Or when I called the police on him once for having illegal substances in the house.  (Kyle had about 2 years of rebellion as a teenager, and then he got himself back on track. I was so proud of him for sticking to his promise to me that he would finish his program and stay clean.)  I was raised in a family of alcoholism and drugs. I had always told my boys if they brought that into our home, I would call the police.  So, I had to.  I wanted him to face the consequences.  "Tough love" they called it.  So hard to do.  He held that against me for a long time.

~ I have to forgive myself for all the "what ifs" and "should haves..."  Kyle was a good son, and he turned out to be a good man, a good husband, and a good father.   The Lord helped me raise him, and I did the best I could.

~ I have to let go of the hurts, perceived or real, intentional or not, and not hold onto the offenses. I have to forgive myself and others. Truly forgive and not keep running the events through my head.

~ I need to focus on the positives and throw out the negatives if I am going to get back to living.  

~ Kathryn was good for him.  He was happy.  She was a good wife and a good caregiver.  She walked through the darkest days with him and never left his side.  I am so thankful for her love and dedication to him.

~ Kyle and I shared a close bond. No one can take that from me.  I have many wonderful memories and treasured moments with him.

~ I will adjust, I will not stay in this destructive place. Sometimes I don't want to live, but I will find peace with it, even though I'm sure my heart will never be the same.

~ I know God does no wrong, Yet I feel wronged.  I must let go of that and "forgive" Him (in a sense). I can't see the whole picture. I must accept that this was best for Kyle.  Plus, I have hope that I will see him again.

Venting

 For the last two years, I have been scolded by several people, including my husband, for being too emotional, looking up the facts about my son's cancer, or saying anything about him going to heaven. As if that could stop God from doing a miracle.  I can know the facts and still believe for a miracle.

I did believe. I honestly thought there was a great ministry ahead for Kyle.  So many restored relationships and inner healings had happened.  I just knew he would have a marvelous testimony. I was sure God would heal him completely and restore the gifts he had as a child.

From the time he was 5 or so, he prayed for me many times. Mostly for back issues or headaches. and the pain would leave.  He prayed for others too.  And every night he had a list of people he prayed for. Both of my boys did.

One time he saw a woman working in Walmart grab her head in pain, and he asked her if he could pray for her. She nodded, and he put his hand on her head and prayed silently. The headache was gone! He was around 9 years old. He told me he could feel the energy flow, and a few times he felt the rejection from the person he prayed for. And then no healing would come.  That was the last time he prayed like that (that I knew of).  

After that, his father left, his Nana died, and his cousin and his best friend both moved away. All in a year or so.   I had no job and no money.  I had to go to work full-time.  Until then, I worked part-time and had never left my boys alone. So, in a sense, they lost me as well.  I tried to reach him, but he inverted and shut everyone out.   A few years later, in high school, he started turning things around.  He overcame many obstacles. But he was never the same.  

With the cancer came many deep discussions about those wounds we all carried.  So much resentment and anger had built up over the years.  So many good memories were lost and so many were twisted -- for both of us.  The kingdom of darkness spins a strong web.  We untangled it with the Lord's help.  Most of it.  It was healing for us and so good for me to have him back in my life and be a part of his long hard journey.

My Son

 

Had a memorial for my son, Kyle, yesterday.  Saddest days ever.  

He battled cancer for more than two years. He was a father of two and was no longer serving in the Air Force.   The ocular melanoma grew quickly. In a few weeks, his left eye was removed. Horrific, but no cancer had spread to his brain. The cancer metastasized in his abdomen near the kidney, which is very rare as it usually spreads to the liver or the lungs. Now it was uveal melanoma. The immunotherapy was successful and the tumor died. We celebrated when the tests and scans all came back clear.  He even took summer courses at the local college.

I think it was three PET scans that came back clear and they were going to stop treatments.  But the last test showed a spot on his liver.  Then it was two spots. More aggressive treatments were started. Then an ablation to burn off the smaller tumor.  This made the liver swell and the larger tumor grew and the smaller one did not die. 

No one talked openly about the severity of it.  I looked it up to learn that most people only live 5 to 7 months once it is in the liver.  It is fast-growing and aggressive.   Nothing worked.  No surgery was done as the swollen liver made it impossible to discern where the tumor started and ended. Two surgeons rejected the surgery.

He became very sick from the treatments, and by the time he got to a new cancer facility, it had spread to more than fifty percent of his liver.  He was no longer a candidate for clinical trials.

Again, no one was open or honest about the facts, not even the doctors.  During the last 9 months, we all tried to be strong for the kids.  We watched my son suffer terribly for the last two months as his kidneys shut down. Dialysis worked for a couple of weeks. He was able to hold some food down and had less pain.  Even his last week in the hospital they gave us false hope with more dialysis and new treatment plans for the liver.

 I treasure the precious time we shared. The times I stayed with him in the hospital while his wife took care of the kids, and the times they all stayed at our house.  He shared his strong faith, telling me it was going to be okay because he would get a miracle and get to stay here for his family, or he would get to be with Jesus and be completely healed.

Rivers of tears have been shed. Complete emotional meltdowns are less frequent. The strangest things can trigger it. My heart pounds, races, and aches. Sharp pains stab my chest sometimes.  Feels like I'm shattering apart. Physical collapses too.  I have had to lay down on the floor a couple of times and wait it out. Weak from not eating much. No appetite and it makes me feel sick to my stomach. 

Yet, I’m also thankful he is no longer suffering. I remind myself I will see him again and of all the wonderful things he is doing now. That helps me shake off the dark thoughts.

My grandson (7 years old)  comforts me.  I treasure his little hugs and tight squeezes.

 We mixed up everyone's images for the slide show. (I had too many pictures of Kyle when he was little.)  That way if some of the images didn’t get shown at the end it would be random.  Precious memories.

I spent hours going through my old photos and taking pictures of them to have them on my phone. Then I emailed them to myself so I could edit them before I put them on the jump drive. Then I took them to the funeral home. It was a wonderful way to keep busy and not feel useless.   Sometimes it didn’t stop the tears, but I relived beautiful memories.

Then there were the framed images to put on the table.  I am a professional artist. I also did custom framing for years. I put the images in expensive frames and custom-cut the glass, mats, and foam-core backing.  It turned out nice and not crowded. 

It all turned out amazing.  We honored him well.  Had military honors for him and had three of his pastors share. That was so good to my soul. 

Wish I would have written out at least one of my stories to share. Kyle was a prayer warrior by 6 years old.  He had gifts of healing for others.  He saw things in the spirit realm and drew pictures of the angels he saw. He was hit by a car at 7 years old and the bike was mangled up under the car and he was not hurt.  He was sitting on the side of the road in a daze.  “An angel caught me, Mama, it pulled me away from the car!” And his friend saw him “float” away from the car. (Those are just a few.)

So many wonderful things I want to share.  Maybe I'll write some and share them when I can put my thoughts together again. 

Pray for me, please.  My heart is in a million pieces.  Sometimes I can’t breathe.  I know he’s in a better place, and I know he is dancing with Jesus, and seeing all our loved ones, but I miss him so much.

Obituary information for Kyle Marvin Jenkins