The Daily Hailey

Church is a bit challenging right now, so we’ve been home. We’ll be back before long, I’m sure of it. Its just kind of hard to psych myself up for it, and I’m not 1000% ready. My mental energy quits pretty early in the day, so I don’t have a lot to spare. Anyways.

Today, the kids and I watched Brady’s memorial service back. They requested it this morning, so once babies were down for naps, we set it up and watched it in the living room.

Goodness that was SUCH a beautiful service. An exhausting day, but really with virtually no complaints beyond Brady not being there with us in person.

Watching it back was different for everyone. One kid only came for a portion of it. One kid wept brutally at one point. One kid paced. One kid fidgeted. One kid watched unceasingly. And then there was me, who has watched it back a number of times already and could crochet while listening to the bulk of it. Not the video, of course. At the end of the video, Past Dennis commented on the fact that it was an eighteen minute video, and a couple of children asked in unison if it actually was that long. It was, I told them. We all agreed it did not feel that long. Could’ve kept going for another eighteen minutes, am I right? Yes, I am.

My handsome man. SO many people love you and miss you terribly. Mostly me. But also others.

*Sigh* I wish you were reclined in your chair next to me while we watched.

In Brady’s last few days of life, our family spent a lot of time in our room with him. He lay in his bed and we would all sit around the room and chat, or just be quiet. Reminisce. Listen to music. We spent time in all kinds of ways. Brady barely responded, but he would still lift an arm to hug someone back, or squeeze a hand, and he would offer the occasional “ya” or “no.” A lot of things we witnessed didn’t make much sense, but if you’ve been in that position, you know how precious those days were. People came through along the way and joined us, or we’d leave and they’d have their chance to just sit with Brady. It meant a LOT to have our closest people come over and show there love while meeting us truly right where we were at, even if that meant in our bedroom as Bradys health declined.

On one particular occasion, just a couple of days before he passed, we were all sitting in our room, visiting. I was sitting on the edge of the bed beside Brady, and then the five older kids and my mom were also there. As we talked, Brady started lifting his arm up. Any sound of movement from him quieted a room, with everyone nearby anticipated his next need. A few different times, Brady had reached into the air, seemingly looking for something and trying to grasp something that none of us could see. It seemed like this was the inevitable outcome, but we waited, and as Brady reached, he kept brushing my chest. Dekker snickered, and we all giggled a little, but no one wanted to really disrupt him from whatever it was he was doing.

Until he flat out grabbed a whole handful worth of my boob!

The room BURST out laughing!!! Every last one of us positively howled. I took a selfie. No one could believe what was happening! What he thought he was grabbing! Do we stop him?! No one saw that coming! My mom and I agreed that the man absolutely earned one final boob grab, to which one of my kids responded “Wait. He’s done that to you before?” 🤔😬 No. Not ever.

He finally released his hostage, we all got over ourselves, and the day went on.

Later on, Tom came to spend some father son time with Brady, and after a little while, I went in to check on everything and see how Tom was feeling. We got to talking, and I told him the story from that morning. And as I’m telling it, Brady pipes up. Unprompted. He smirked, chuckled, and just say “ya.”

🤣

That man knew with 100% certainty what he was doing!!!!! Which made the whole thing even that much funnier 🤣

So. If you’ve heard me say that Brady kept us laughing up until his last days of life, that particular story is why 💜

For good measure, here is Cher’s version.

I really miss laughing with you, Brady. And at you. But mostly with you. MAN did we laugh a lot. I love you 💜

Our little foster bestie has come for the weekend, which we are SO excited for!! Things are always a little extra wild when we visit, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything!

Everyone was running all over the house, plus another bonus we had for just half an hour while they waited to be picked up for something else, and out of nowhere, foster bestie raced over to me from the basement and asked “Where daddy Brady go?”

Left me blubbering to explain to the transport person in my doorway that my husband passed recently.

“Daddy Brady is in heaven with Jesus. He doesn’t live here anymore. He lives with Jesus.”
“Oh ya! Wiff JESUS!”

And off they went, back downstairs, to join the fray.

Those moments are the ones that take my breath away more than most. When I have to say it out loud to a kid, or to someone new, and I have to react and respond appropriately, however that looks, but my feelings are different each time.

Grief stinks. Also love.

It is so strange not to share milestones with Brady. I have no idea what people can know after they’ve passed, if anything. Growing up, we were taught to believe heaven was restrictive to a degree, but really there are so many different schools of thought regarding what people are able to see/know/feel once they’re in heaven, seeing Jesus. I DO believe Brady knows how loved he is, and I like to think he knows his family is taken care of and actively seeking Jesus through their grief. But, details wise, I really don’t know. I doubt he witnesses all the goings on around here.

So, while I can’t share this directly with Munchie’s daddy, I can share with you, friends.

Munchie Mix took steps today. The first of many, I imagine.

Who wouldn’t want to walk to Laela when she’s being so sweet and inviting? I get it. She’s the one that got the Morsel walking, too.

Happy successes feel different without Brady. However, multiple people have texted me out of the blue this morning with warm encouragements, scriptures, and softness. We are not without support and love. We are NOT without faith in God.

We are without Brady, however.

Happy steps, Munchie 💜 Mama is SO proud of you!

We went to Kinasao today to help our dear Dahlsjos put us Christmas lights for the upcoming twinkle tour the camp is putting on. Cher kept the babies and I took the five. Which was right, because it was COLD! To be clear, I took the five, but at one point, I only took the four, because one of the five took all of us!!!

Whats that all about, am I right?! Yikes he is growing SO fast!

My first order of business was a walk down to the water. Just to gather my thoughts and try to accept the fact that Brady will never come back to this beautiful oasis of ours. It was such an us spot, and now, it is different. It is still us, but he is not here with us. A very different us. It just feels surreal.

We worked for a good handful of hours, and got to have lunch inside the retreat centre by the fireplace, which was a relief for all of our hands and toes.

The work day was set to end around 4pm, but by 3:30 I was toast. There was simply no energy left whatsoever. So I slacked in Stacy and Kelly’s truck for a little while they finished their final display for the day. While I waited and defrosted, Dekker texted me to go see the lights on top of the bathrooms. Little did I know he was the display on the roof of the bathrooms. And he positively insisted I come up and join him. I don’t like ladders, but he crouched on the edge of the roof and held my hands 💜 He is an excellent specimen of man, this one.

We drove home as it got darker and darker, and we made it in time to drop Laela off at youth. Now, we are home, and everyone is tucked. Except Dekker, because his portion of the youth night goes a little later. But WOW am I EVER ready for bed. 🥱

First, some crocheting. Creamsicle Christmas needs to be assembled, and thats going to take some time.

There is a weird thing I’m feeling that is reminding me of a couple of years ago, when the Morsel was still in our care. The Morsel was a medical baby, and there came a day when we had officially graduated out of feeding therapy. No more tubes. No more pumps. No more thickeners, even. Just, food and drink, good to go. And with that WIN came an odd sadness, because I had really grown to love the people in those departments. And while I was thrilled that the Morsel was safe to consume any and all necessary nutrients from actual food and actual drink, without any altering, I was very sad to not see those people anymore. We had great rapport, and had been through things together. I’m sure I’m not the only person who gets that.

Brady is free. Finally. He no longer needs doctors or surgeons or specialists of any kind. No more oncology or cancer treatments. No more home care. No more rehab. No more medications or supplies, even. And that is AMAZING, because we know EXACTLY where he is and there is great peace surrounding that.

But, I will admit. I miss some of those people.

I don’t miss Brady needing so much care to barely maintain any quality of life. I hated how he had to suffer, and I can truly say I am HAPPY for him to finally be free and seeing Jesus.

I don’t miss the scheduling conflicts or the constant search for childcare.

But I do wonder how our favorite home care nurses are doing. Or if his community OT ever tried to watch Stranger Things. I always loved running into Dana at the cancer centre, and making that one guy from his pod feel super uncomfortable with my dark humour. I liked when Bradys oncologist would tell us stories about things his kids did. The warmth from the therapists at City Hospital was unmatched, as were the laughs shared while picking up medical supplies at UROmed.

And now, I have no reason to go to those places anymore. Which is GREAT, but brings its own weird griefy feelings. Sometimes writing it out helps, so here I am, doing exactly that.

We all have different things going on in our lives. No one’s grief is the same, and lots of it won’t even be similar. But there are little offshoot grief things that not everyone sees.

Yes. I lost my husband. And my kids lost their dad. And that is a HARD time. That carries SO much grief. But there are constant reminders that just bulk that grief up day after day and make things harder. And today, I’m feeling the loss of those relationships.

Conveniently, the group of people in our corner is still gigantic, and I hope you all KNOW we do NOT take that for granted. I am in no way saying we are without support or friends or help. In so many ways, we have EVERYTHING we need plus so much more!! It is just another odd part of all the change we’re experiencing. The norm is no longer normal. Though, really, what was the norm? We haven’t had one in years. Maybe it just feels bad to start trying to find one. I’m not sure.

*sigh*

Grief be griefin’.

Crocheting has been part of my life for yeeeeears. This isn’t news, I know. I cringe now for projects I used to gift, but I know that a person improves only with practice, so I can let those go for the most part. But I kicked it into high gear since Brady had his first surgery.

Crocheting provides SO much rest to me. To my brain, by giving it rest. To my body, by busying my hands, keeping them from picking at my skin or nails. And to my heart, for making something beautiful in the process. I feel MORE restful crocheting while having a show in the background than if I was just laying in bed, watching tv. Its the perfect rest.

I very much wish Brady was still in my bed beside me at night. I would give just about anything to have him back, strong and well, doing life with me. But he was not living his life at the end. I would not wish him to be back in his later condition, especially considering where he is now 💜 He is free from ALL disease and ALL restrictions. Thanks be to God!

However, with my bed significantly emptier than it used to be, Brady’s side holds the latest crochet project. Right now, that has become snowflake blankets. The little hexagons are simple and pretty, and so far the outcomes have been worth the effort.

There is something so fulfilling about making something really beautiful in the midst of truly the most tragic time of ones life.

Creamsicle Christmas is coming your way ❄️

Its been three weeks.

Sleep is hard these days. Obviously. I fall asleep very late, sleep HARD, wake up hard and weird, and I live in perpetual exhaustion until I get to fall back to sleep again. Its not a nice cycle, but I do manage to get decent quality sleep. I feel like, even if I got twelve hours straight every night, I would still be this tired, and I think that makes sense. So I’m not being too hard on myself for it. Giving myself grace.

A couple of nights ago, I woke up with a huge startle. It sounded like something fell in my house somewhere. I’m sure we’ve all been there. I went over the possibilities in quick succession. Were the kids up and maybe something just fell over in the kitchen sink maybe? Nope. No one was up yet. It was 6am ish. Maybe a shampoo bottle fell in the tub? Nope, it wasn’t that kind of sound. Did the noise machine vibrate its way off the dresser? No, I don’t use that thing anymore. Weird. Curiouser and curiouser.

I couldn’t pin it down, and wrote it off as the wind. Our house is SO loud in the wind, but with the noise machine always going in our room, the sound wasn’t as bothersome. However, Brady liked the sound machine and I don’t, so I don’t use it anymore. And WOW something is SO darn loud. I have got to figure that out. But I very easily wrote off this startling wakeup call as a result of the wind.

Until later that morning when I noticed my smoke detector was on the floor, halfway across the room from where it usually lives up above my door.

🤦‍♀️

Thanks for nothing, adhesives. You did me dirty. And I could really use the sleep.

🥱

I never check my Facebook memories. Like. Never ever. But today, for whatever reason, I clicked on them. There was a very cute video of Wavy singing the duck song, and then there was this.

A very low quality picture, but an important one.

Today was the day ten years ago that Brady and I bought our Transit van. We brought my mom along to A. join the fray, and B. drive our minivan home, because we both wanted to go in the bus 🙂

We only had four kids at the time. If you’ve ever talked about the bus with me, you know how exactly how I felt, and how I feel.

I was embarrassed for the first week of owning it. And then I wasn’t anymore. We could take the kids, the stroller, a big fat diaper bag, whatever we wanted, and go to Costco for a GIANT shop, and not even bat an eye for space.

Then, we could bring the kids to Edmonton and go to Ikea, and pick up whatever we wanted, and not worry about space.

And then we started fostering, and got up to three placements at a time, at that point becoming a family of 10. And we didn’t have to worry about space.

And then we got a wheelchair, only a few months before we started spending summers at Kinasao. So we would load up ten people, plus a wheelchair, plus a weeks worth of our life in that van. Sometimes we worried about space at that point, but we never had to leave anything behind. It becomes a family joke when we have to start stacking things under seats and at kids feet. You know its really full then! Heck, we brought a kayak to camp in the van once. There is nothing that van can’t hold.

I have no regrets with that bus. Not one. Frankly, I’m going to be in a lot of trouble when it finally kicks 😬 Hopefully not anytime soon!! But this has been a purchase we made that seemed to stun a lot of people at first, and is now crucial to our life. I am SO glad we bought it.

Ugh. Brady, how will I ever buy another vehicle without you?

Its darker outside. I don’t hate it, though. I will soon, but I don’t yet. Except its way harder to get up in the mornings, WOW.

I’d say its darker outside, but its not necessarily darker inside. I don’t know how to explain it. Grief is so complicated.

I obviously ache for my husband. I have dearly loved being married to Brady. We both thought it would be harder being married, but were pleasantly surprised at how much we truly enjoyed it. The partnership. The camaraderie. Witness each others lives. Building our family. Making memories. I can’t believe he’s gone. Yet, every night I don’t have him beside me in our room, it is made more and more obvious to me.

But there are positives. Positives that come with the peace that only God can provide. I am honestly SO HAPPY for Brady to finally be free from the holds of the world. He has no more sorrow. No pain. No struggle. No more disability or illness or appointments or treatments or unpredictability of things that just hang him up and hold him back further and further. What a beautiful relief for him!!

The rest of us, however, still have those things. Our earthly bodies are still here, and our lives continue. It is odd that things just keep going whether he is with us or not. But thank God for God! Because HE is with us, and HE is our comfort and our strength!!

Thank you, Lord, for never leaving us hanging 💜 It is so clear that we are not alone.