Before The Mourning

To me I was living a normal life. I was raised the only child of a single working mom in rural Iowa. My grandmother was just five minutes away and helped out as much as possible. My mom’s work hours started out pretty rough for a few years but after paying her dues she established a 9-5 life. I went to school where I played on every sports team there was. At recess and in gym class I was always the first girl chosen. I was picked on for a lot of things in school, that however was not one of them. Tennis was my passion. In high school I decided to join the speech club as well. After all, if anyone knew how to talk it was me. My mom and I attended church together every Sunday since I was five or six. We quoted scriptures and prayed together.

Before I started middle school we had neighbor kids, mostly boys with one exception. Growing up in a rural neighborhood and on a dead end street at that most evenings involved playing ball or a snowball fight in the street depending on the season.  By the time I got to the seventh grade they had all moved away and I had senior citizens for neighbors. They all baked for me at Christmas time.    

Our lives were kept private. I didn’t speak unless spoken to. Dinner was usually something quick or out of a box. Due to the condition of the house people including grandma, didn’t come over; we went to them. Family gatherings were small. Sometimes it was just the three of us; once in a while we went to the farm as we called it where we had extended family.

Mother daughter conversations consisted of getting chewed out for the bad grades on my latest report card or not playing tennis good enough. Family dinner was spent in front of the television. While I was a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl the other girls in church were not and my mom would tell me she had a girl not a boy.  We made a few trips to the mall an hour away where she bought me clothes I didn’t want to wear.  Most of my evenings and weekends were spent at home with mom.  When I was allowed out of the house I got a phone call every 15 minutes. However, to me all of this was just normal.  The thought never occurred to me another family lived life differently.

Even after leaving the house and going to Minnesota after graduation in 1995 I was still naively unaware that’s there’s a real world out there. 

On February 10, 1997 my seemingly normal life came to an abrupt end when my mom didn’t show up for work and later that morning was found dead by the police.

My grandma and I were left with a totally different life. I lost my mom and she lost her second child. It was not until then I realized the life I had lived up until that point was anything but normal. Grandma had no idea all that had gone on and I was stuck to explain mom would’ve killed me if I told her. 

Grandma questioned God and didn’t understand how a loving God could take two of her children. I didn’t understand how a loving mom could leave her child in that position so I on the other hand questioned my mom. While grandma had lots of questions about God, she never rejected Him either. She was open to trying to understand and asked on a few occasions that I pray for her. I did have to explain that while I’m sure my mom’s heart was in the right place, she unfortunately was miserable and tried to cover it up by quoting scripture without having a full understanding of what the verse meant. I didn’t realize that and I lived with her. Grandma and I spent the next three and half years sharing things that neither of us had any idea had happened. We both laughed, we both cried, but most importantly we both healed. 

The day I most dreaded came June 10, 2000. The day we lost my mom I knew grandma wasn’t going to live forever, however the day arrived sooner than I was ready. I cried out to God many times to keep her safe until I was sure of her salvation. I spent all day June 9 in the hospital with her. I asked her twice separately earlier in the day if Jesus lives in her heart and both times she said yes. 

The last, but by far the best memory I have of my grandma will be that night in the hospital feeding her ice cream with a smile on her face that swallowed her ears. I once again asked her in that moment if Jesus lives in her heart and she said yes. I told God it was going to be hard, but He could take her. She died the next morning before I could get there.  I had no idea just how hard it was going to be.   

I cried to the point I thought I would drown in my tears. I lost my job. I had plenty of times when I wanted to die. I made some terrible personal and financial decisions. My love of sports became a love for TV and I reached 350 pounds. I ended up declaring bankruptcy.  I slept for days in a row and then was up for days in a row. I got and lost a few more jobs. I was treated by a professional counselor and a medical doctor. After having a major panic attack I knew it was time for a change. 

I stayed with an old friend of my mom’s in Iowa while I saved some money and prayed about what to do next. In the summer of 2005 God took me to of all places Las Vegas, Nevada. Christian girl in sin city didn’t settle well with a lot of people and I was proud of myself for going despite the opposition I got. 

Things started out rough in Vegas, and I continued to struggle holding down a good job. I stuck it out long enough to meet the people who would become the family I never had. It’s absolutely fitting I met them Christmas Day. With the exception of the Child born unto us that day, they will always be the best Christmas gift I ever got.

As time went on things improved in Vegas. I became a massage therapist, got a job which I would end up staying at for 10 years through three states. I made a few friends, found a love for endurance sports which is not a sport I ever thought I’d find myself participating in, and dropped a good 175 pounds. With all of these good things happening my depression lessened. 

After a few moves with my new family, and a series of events that can only be explained by God I find myself at home in Ocala, Florida with the family just an hour and a half away. For the first time in my more than 40 years of life I have a good job that I’ve been at for a few years now, and my own place that I earned. I went from being the pizza queen (my own words) to cooking real meals for myself that I love.  Whoever thought I’d be good in the kitchen. To be honest, I surprised myself. My house certainly isn’t perfect, but it’s cleaner and more organized than it’s ever been and I have the pride and satisfaction of saying I did it myself. My finances have greatly improved. I found myself a church family that I love.

My downward spiral of depression started right at 20 years ago. For many years I had little to no memory of my life during that time especially when I was in Minnesota. It’s hard for me to look back on my life and not say holy cow did that really happen and was I really like that? Yes it did and yes I was. It’s said that when a person is suffering from depression it’s like being under water.  When someone is underwater they are unaware of things. That rings truer now than ever before. I’m just now, little by little recalling things that happened during that time. However, I am now fully aware of for just how many years I was a child trapped in an adult body with no understanding of the real world. If I can be so blunt, I have a much greater understanding of the pain in the butt I’m sure I was and what I must have put my friends especially in Minnesota through. 

It’s a hymn we all know whether we’ve been to church or not. After all these years I understand why it’s called Amazing Grace. If it weren’t for that Amazing Grace I wouldn’t be here today to write this down.

This isn’t just my story of grief and depression. It would be awfully depressing if that’s all it was. It’s my story of victory. It’s my story of rebuilding my life from scratch 20 years into adulthood. Before I could learn to live a new life, I had to unlearn an old one. My story is deep, at times it’s gut wrenching, but it’s brutally honest. Now that it’s over I wouldn’t trade it for anything.The words to another old hymn say “then as death gives way to victory.” This is my journey of finding victory over death. I can’t promise you it’s going to be easy. In fact, I can pretty much assure you it won’t be. However, what I can guarantee you is that as surely as God is faithful and because of His Amazing Grace there is joy through the mourning.