Don't Know If This is the "Treat" You Were Promised

Hello faithful readers of Jenny! I’m Kristin, known on these here interwebs as “kekis” and/or “The Rambler.” Since I have nothing better to do with my time than bore other people, I spout forth my nothings on two blogs. The first is Todd and Kristin, a usually light-hearted "look at our fun life" blog and the second is Fertile Ramblings, a "look at our personal hell" blog. Check in on them if you dare.

I wrote this blog entry last night and looking back on it, I think it might be a bit deep and preachy. Oh well, I'm posting it anyway! (For those east of the Mississippi, I posted this before midnight CDT!)

Don't remember when it was exactly, but I met Jenny through the world of blogging. We later became Facebook friends, and now I’m just waiting for her to visit me in Texas someday. It was a frigid 108 degrees here yesterday, so I wonder if Jenny might make it here after her run through Chicago!

When you compare the two of us, Jen and I might not seem to have much in common. I’m over ten years older than her, live in the South, and didn’t marry until I was older (nearing spinsterness!). I’m very independent and fairly adventurous while Jenny now has to learn how to be more than ever. I’m fair-skinned and can’t get tan like Jenny does - that’s for sure! And we won't talk about how she's thin (and can wear a two-piece), and I'm . . . well . . . not. However, once you scratch the surface and get to know us, you’ll learn we do have some definite commonalities. We’re both blonde, crazy in love with our dogs, love working with children, believe in God, and absolutely cherish our family and friends.

The one commonality that bonded Coin and I is a pretty sucky one. It’s called grief. Now, before I say anything else, I will say that I have NO CLUE what Jen has endured these past eleven months. Losing my husband is something that I cannot fathom, and I won’t pretend to act as if I know what it's like. With that being said, Jenny and I have both have experienced grief. The grief of dreams being stolen from us. The grief of everything you know changing and having to develop a new normal. The grief that makes you feel so damn alone even in a stadium full of people that know and love you. The grief that shakes you to core. The grief that makes you question your beliefs. The grief that makes you question everything you know. The grief of losing a baby.

I imagine that just about every single one of you reading this have experienced your own personal hell, your own grief of sorts. (If not, hold on because it'll come.) And while there is not another person in this world that has experienced it just like each of us have, we all have grief in common. Some of that pain is more raw and more painful than it may be to others. We’ve all been through it, though, in varying degrees.

So whether you were led to Jenny’s blog because of your own personal situation or some other reason, know that you really aren’t alone. You may feel alone in that stadium of people who say they love you, but you are not. I know that God is with you. He’s with me. Just hang with Him, and He will hang with you. And don’t forget that the blog community is on your side. We listen to you, share with you, laugh with you, cry with you, rejoice with you, pray with you, scream with you, lose with you, and love with you. While we can all worry about our privacy being invaded by exposing ourselves to the world, we have to depend on one another.

After one experiences a tragedy of any level, there is a process. The process of grief is as individual to each of us as one’s fingerprints. We all have fingerprints, though. We all recover. It’s not easy, but we all survive if we choose it. We all experience happiness – gosh, even joy again - if we choose it. I’ve always said, “You have to go through the bad times to know when you’re having the good times.” When I look back at the past few years of my life, some of it makes sense now. Did it suck in the throws of it all? Definitely. Did I think I could endure it? Definitely not. Did I survive? Yes.

I often rely on quotes to get me through my tough times. One special quote to me is from a book titled Luscious Lemon by Heather Swain. It is about a woman who experiences a miscarriage and what she learns from it. I won’t give any more of it away, but I will share a quote from the book that I’ve carried on my heart since I first read it. I think it applies to any difficult or tragic situation that one endures. "This isn't something you get over. It's just something you get through, and then you carry it around with you for the rest of your life. It's part of your story now. Part of your history. It'll always, always hurt. Just not quite as bad someday."

So when I am hurting or know someone who is hurting, I can say, “You will never get over it, but you WILL get through it.” The only way to the other side is to go through it.

See? Not only do Jen Coin and I have a common bond, we all do. We’re all in different places in our journey to the other side. Some have not started that journey while others are starting it, in the thick of it, coming through it, or on the other side of it. You never know the pain a person carries, so be kind to everyone. Learn from the strength and openness Jenny has shared with us all. Share your with someone who might need it.

Saturday will be eleven months since Jen lost Shawn. I can guarantee you that on August 18, 2008 she never dreamed she would survive to this point. But she has, and we can learn from her. Thanks, Jen, for sharing your journey through the deepest tragedy of your life with all of us and showing us how to live. Although I never met him, I know that Shawn is so amazingly proud of you, and he expects you to keep living. Don’t disappoint him. Plus, that damn cute dog of yours needs you. :)

Thanks for letting me guest blog, JCoin, and thanks to all of your readers for listening to (or putting up with) me. Come to Texas and sweat with me soon!