Better (Kara)

December 22, 2017

So many things change over the course of our lives.  I can quite easily sit here and focus on how my life has changed for the worse.  Believe me, I do that more often than I care to admit. But just as our lives are worse, our lives are better too. Today I can focus on the positive.  I resist typing that because I hate when people say things like, “It happened for a reason.”  That somehow lessens the devastation of the situation.  It wraps it up all nice and neat with a little bow on top, and that just isn’t reality.  

In reality, you can potentially become a better person through loss. But I would give every bit of wisdom, personal growth and even strengthening of my faith just to have Drew back.  Just to see my kids with their dad.  I would give anything to have spent Sunday night celebrating my 23rd wedding anniversary with Drew. Instead I spent the day fighting off the memories of our special Christmas time wedding.

When I dig deep, look around, pray, and reflect, I see it.  I’m a better person because I lost Drew.  How I wish I knew then what I know now.  We all know about hindsight… but it’s true. I would have been a better wife to Drew. I would have asked for more forgiveness and been more forgiving.  I would have been more understanding and slower to anger.  I would have helped him when he needed me most instead of worrying about all the meaningless things I used to worry about.  

I never considered myself a particularly self-centered person, but losing Drew has taught me that I was living a life that, in some ways, was very selfish. I can now see how this little life I am living is just that...little.  I am a different person today.  I am trying to live a better, more purposeful, faith led life. It’s not about a perfectly decorated house at Christmas or all the right gifts under the tree.  In the grand scheme of things what does any of that even matter? I am trying to reevaluate and determine what really does matter in this life.

I am learning that life isn't about happiness. I’m not exactly sure what it is about.  But I know it isn’t just about me anymore. I think we have all convinced ourselves that we have the right to be happy.  We are somehow owed that.  We spend our entire lives seeking happiness. The more we have, the more we want. Our society is obsessed with living our best life and feeling good about ourselves. Certainly we need to have goals and feel good about who we are, but that is just one part of the whole.  As I have written before, happiness is tiny. When we spend our time focusing on what we want and what we think we deserve, this becomes the biggest part of the whole, rather than one small piece. We have it all mixed up. I don’t know why it took losing Drew for me to see this.  

Two weeks ago, the kids and I attended a Donate Life Remembrance Ceremony honoring Organ, Eye, and Tissue donors.  Drew donated his corneas.  On his drivers license he indicated that he wished to be a donor.  The night he died I got a call asking me for my consent. It was unreal. How could a call like that be possible? How could I begin to give consent to something I didn't even believe was true.  But guess what, it happens all the time.  Hundreds of phone calls just like mine.

I don't think that Drew and I ever really talked about being donors.  For us, it was just kind of a given, but it didn't seem real when we checked the box each time we renewed our licenses. We chose to just put it out of our minds because it was so beyond reality. It’s not like you don't notice the red heart staring back at you every time you grab your license.  You just conveniently choose not to acknowledge it.  

It’s so interesting to me, the power of the mind.  We convince ourselves of things all the time. We choose to think about what we choose to think about.  It is a very deliberate choice.  Until someone called me on the night my husband died, I had never given organ donation much thought.

At the ceremony we heard from donor recipients as well as family members whose loved ones were donors.  I just had no idea.  No idea what a gift being a donor truly is for all who are involved.  I paid no attention to the fact that people do this every day.  Organ donation is a part of life, but until it touched my own life, I chose not to think about it.

Christmas 2015 was our first Christmas without Drew.  Surviving a year of firsts is one of the worst things about losing someone.  Not only because of the pure loss, but because you know that for every year from that point on, those events will continue over and over again.  We have learned that if we come up with a plan it helps.  It’s what we did with everything.  It’s how we survived.  But coming up with a plan for Christmas was particularly difficult. I absolutely would not let myself picture Christmas morning without Drew.   

We finally decided we would go to my sister’s on Christmas Eve and do something different. We didn't want to continue our many family traditions when the person who loved them most wasn’t going to be part of them.  That morning I tried to keep it like a “normal” day so I went to work out, pretending it wasn’t Christmas Eve.  As I backed out of the driveway I noticed, from the corner of my eye, what looked like some sort of package on our front steps.  I left and came back, and never gave it another thought.  It was early so the kids were still in bed.

When I got home Reese was awake and said, “There’s something at the door?!”  Then I remembered I had seen something earlier.  I told her to grab it and bring it in. It was right about that same time that Max, an 8th grader at the time, said something like, “Umm Mom, like there's a TON of stuff out there. There's huge boxes and a bench and …” he went on and on!!!  By that time all 3 kids were up, the front door was wide open and one after the other they brought Christmas presents into the house.  There were presents for each one of us, even our dog, Lilly.   The presents were personal and tailored to our individual interests. Each one carefully wrapped with a sticker that indicated to whom the gift was intended and that it was from Christmas Commandos.

We were all so excited and “happy” which was something that our Christmas had desperately been missing.  Presents were passed around, and in typical Clark fashion; everyone started opening all at once!  For a fleeting moment it felt “just like Christmas morning”... We were actually enjoying Christmas...even without Andy.  It was ever so brief, but it was one of those moments I’ve talked about before.  One of those tiny moments that keep you afloat when you feel you are drowning.  I held onto that moment for as long as I could and have recalled it too many times to count.  So have my kids.  

I remember thinking I had heard of Christmas Commandos before.  But like so many other things in my old life, I had chosen not to take the time to think much about it or involve myself.  I assumed it was for families in need, but that’s all I knew. When we were the recipients I almost felt guilty, like we didn't deserve it when there were so many other families out there who were truly in need. Then I found the angel statue. A ceramic angel with a letter attached that simply acknowledged our sadness and reminded us that we were loved and supported by our community.  It was then that I realized these gifts had nothing to do with NEED.  This was all about LOSS.  It was about Andy.  It made us feel like he wasn't forgotten and neither were we.

Christmas Commandos is a gift to our community and a well kept secret.  What began in the basement of one woman’s home, with just 4 or 5 families, has continued to grow and evolve over 20 years.  Each year they bless hundreds of families who have experienced the loss of a loved one or a tragedy that year.  

Until it happened to us, we had no idea it even existed.  

The kids and I knew we wanted to be part of this amazing group of volunteers.  We now know that loss is something that countless people deal with day in and day out.  We know how it feels, especially at Christmas. We remember what it meant to us.  So last year when our hearts were breaking and we were missing Drew, we got involved.  This time we were experiencing the joy of Christmas Commandos from an entirely different perspective.  We were able to be a small part of blessing other families who had lost their loved one.

December 25, 2017 will be our third Christmas without Drew and now our entire family, extended family and many friends are involved with Christmas Commandos!  It will be part of our lives forever.  Christmas isn’t what it used to be.  It is so much bigger than just us, now.  

When I lost Drew I cried so hard and so often.  All I wanted to do was close my swollen, puffy eyes forever.  There are still those days and those moments. They don’t go away.

But because Drew died, my eyes are open.  There are so many things I wish I didn’t have to see, but Drew has made me see them. Maybe that is the greatest gift he ever gave any of us. It’s like he is saying, “Alright you guys, now you get it. It’s not about us. Do you see what’s out there?  Do you see the big picture? Now get off your sorry asses and BE BETTER!”

I wish he were here with us to know all that we know now.  I wish he could be part of how we are different.  Drew would have loved to know what we now know about Donate Life.  He would love Christmas Commandos more than anyone.  He had the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever known.  He was older than me, he was the ringleader of our friends, he was the first to do so many things. He taught us the ways of the world (which probably wasn’t always a good thing) and how to have a damn good time.  It only makes sense that he is leading us now.

It’s just not about me anymore.  It’s not about the “things” I have or the car or the house or the clothes.  None of that matters when we have seen how little they have to do with anyone but ourselves.  We are so much more than this human world wants us to be.  It is a challenge. But honestly, everything is challenging if you're doing it right. If you're pushing yourself and trying to “Be Better,” it isn’t necessarily easy or comfortable.  More importantly, no one said it would be.  Maybe it isn’t Donate Life or Christmas Commandos. I truly believe we are all called to certain things over the course of our lives. The most powerful knowledge comes from real life experiences which all of us have. That knowledge might come out of the worst thing in your life or the very best.  No matter what, that knowledge creates opportunity.  

I think it’s time we “get off our sorry asses…”