In the past 14 days I have been to FL, MO, IL, IN, KY, OH, MO, and back to KY.  I have been in cars, rental cars, airplanes, Ubers, and shuttles. I have been on vacation, traveling for work, attending a funeral, joining in a bridal shower, assisting in surgery recovery and coordinating communication following a traffic accident for my nephew.  I have missed regional softball competitions, prom, dramatic monologues and paper presentations given by my dad, a 50^th birthday party, and a torn bicep diagnosis awarded to my dad. I have been a silent observer of people in dire need and people experiencing great joy. I have watched people hurting, families of people hurting, minimum wage workers barely making it but still polite and happy, high paid workers that appear to hate their job, new brides and the soon to be extended families filled with excitement, people invested in life and people just checking boxes. I have been in the company of a diverse population- both ethnically and socio-economically.  I have seen patient care of insured and uninsured- and the differences. I have laughed, I have cried, I have learned, and I have felt exhaustion to my bones. Trust me, this one paragraph can’t do the last 14 days justice.

All the stories that people shared or that I overheard have become a running dialogue in my head, topped off by my own observations. Hang with me as I brain dump just a few stories and thoughts:

• Child excited to get a rubber ball toy while on vacation because they have always wanted one and never gotten it. Parents are counting the change to make it happen.
• Housekeeper in Destin that cleans an entire tower of a complex every Saturday that is happy to accept any leftover items because it helps her get by.
• High School girls on vacation that manage 3 name brand outfits a day while on vacation.
• Passenger on an airplane drunk and lude on an 8 am flight.
• People dropping all plans on a Friday and Saturday to show up for a family experiencing the loss of a child.
• A family and friends trying to understand why and finding a calling to share God’s Grace and raise mental health awareness.
• A daughter in law to be bonding with a wonderfully warm and welcoming mother in law.
• A bride being honored by friends old and new while glowing in her decision to unite with her groom all while putting God first in their relationship.
• My expired driver license being overlooked by air, rental car, and state patrol just to enable me to attend the funeral.
• Hospital workers that complain about the cost of the cafeteria and how different workers (identified by race and age during the conversation) follow different rules for charging the workers.
• While I complain about the $20 parking pass that is only good for 5 exits from the garage, the lady in the elevator shares that she has been parking at the hospital for 19 weeks to be with her husband in the ICU and there is no discount for her either.
• The rooms you pass in the hospital that nobody ever visits! 
• The rooms you pass that are over full constantly and you wonder how the patient rests.
• The care staff that go above and beyond and the care staff that have no idea how to care for your type of surgical follow-up.
• The nutrition staff that is invested in helping you find something that sounds good when you don’t feel like eating at all.
• A doctor or specialist for everything! Pain doctor, surgeon, hospitalist, fellows, PT, OT, Dietary, orthopedic equipment fitters, social workers, case managers, CNA, nurses, and the list goes on. Some work 12-hour shifts, some work 4, some work weekends, others only work at night. If a patient isn’t confused from anesthesia, they are confused by who exactly to listen to when they tell their story to this many people and the answers are different.
• Groups of workers comparing notes and making sure that they all work at the same pace. There are transport teams in hospitals where all they do is move patients and the group was fussing at one of their own for transporting too many on a shift and raising expectations for them all.
• Nurses that transport even though it’s “not their job” just to make sure you are comfortable and settled before shift change.
• The frustration when your cell won’t work in parts of the hospital, but somebody asks to borrow yours because they don’t have one and need to clue in family to an emergency.
• Skilled care staff that takes the time to speak to the custodial staff and ask about their weekend.
• Skilled care staff that speak with disrespect and demean custodial staff in front of patients.
• Coworkers that cover for you and give you the space to have 14 days like this without complaint.
• Just the words life flight can bring you to your knees.
• One thought…always hit the deer!
• One minute being told all clear, lucky, bruises, stitches, and the next being told the patient isn’t waking up after surgery.
• Seeing a picture of a flipped truck and a life flight and thinking, selfishly, he has to be ok because you can’t imagine this walk for your family again.
• Talking to the accident victim and hearing him say he is driving home from the hospital- don’t worry that was a joke. But oh…the relief.
• Learning how to order and install medical devices that you never thought about needing- thanks AMAZON.
• Pulling in your garage and having a husband that has kept your own house going and picks you up mentally and physically for a new day.

What a list! I told you it would be a brain dump. What do all these observations and stories have in common. How do I see any thread here? First, the fact that I was aware of the conversations and attentive enough to note several of these things is new.  Prior to Jack’s accident, I would have caught about half of these things.  My travels and experiences would have been all about me. My eyes and ears are now open. I make a point to speak, make eye contact, and act with kindness because that is what he would have done and that is what #loveBIG is all about. It is easy when reviewing most of these bullet points to be judgmental- that was good, that was bad, why would they do that…etc. What I see when I read this list is the opportunity to #loveBIG in simple ways to make a difference for those walking these different journeys.  I was shown a great deal of kindness and given exceptions that allowed me to get through these 14 days. I hope that I was able to demonstrate #loveBIG to those I encountered. 

It is Easter weekend. This was the last holiday that we spent with Jack. This is the start of the journey into the days leading up to his accident. We are still uncovering what the #loveBIG Foundation will be and do.  I think one of the simplest responsibilities we have is to merely show compassion, listen, and #loveBIG in our actions and speech.  We often see Be Kind or join in Random Acts of Kindness and I do not belittle these efforts, I value them, but… it’s too easy to only do it when it is convenient, or we are in a good place. The past 14 days I was in good places and bad and I had to be very intentional to #loveBIG in all transactions no matter the diverse population or socio-economic background. I have made a commitment to #loveBIG every day and ask that you do the same no matter what you encounter in your next 14 days.

Recently as we were updating some things in our home something was nagging at me. You know the feeling that something doesn’t feel right, but when you run through everything in your head you can’t put your finger on it. As we got to the end of the updates and began re-hanging pictures it smacked me in the face. I had new pictures of my girls to hang. Hairstyles changed, face shape a bit more mature, and clothing styles fresh. Jack Paris is frozen in time. His picture won’t change. No updates coming. It didn’t seem right to update the girls and not his. I really had no option, unless I wanted to leave the older pictures of the girls so I chalked it up to another thing to get used to and forced myself to move on.

Not a week later, I was asked for a picture of him so that a group of women that had not gotten to meet him could put a face and a name together. I love getting to share his pictures and stories and quickly grabbed my phone. When I landed on my camera roll, it was painful to have to scroll and scroll to get to his pictures. You see, in the past 22 months I have continued to take pictures. Actually, I have taken even more as I now know to cherish every moment and want it captured even if I’m having a bad hair day.

How can I capture what the 20 year Jack would have looked like? Interestingly, there are websites that offer age progression photos of your lost loved one. While I can’t imagine doing this, I certainly understand the desire and relate to the overwhelming need to know. I shared with a few my struggle, including those in my grief group, and I always received a head nod and confirmation that this is a part of it.

Then this week I had the opportunity to share about the #loveBIG Foundation with a community group. This was my first speaking opportunity and, although I never struggle for words, I decided to prepare a “speech” just in case I stumbled. It didn’t take long for me to go off script. Of course the best way to introduce the Foundation is to explain the heart and actions of Jack. I do love to talk of my boy, but soon I found I was also excited to share what we accomplished last year, our goals for the future, and my heartfelt desire to help the Jacks of the world. Knowing we have already been able to help some and the possibilities of what is to come.

It dawned on me as I was driving home and reviewing what I could have done better or what should be changed that these are my new pictures of Jack. I will find his face in the face of the youth that we are able to help through #loveBIG. I don’t know that I will go as far as to hang pictures in my house of those faces- perhaps so- but as we have #loveBIG events and I add pictures to my phone those will be the most recent pictures of Jack. Hopefully, there will be so many events and opportunities that the scroll will not take too long. I will always cherish the pics I do have of my blue eyed, blonde headed boy with the priceless smile (thank you Knight, Whale, and Chalothorn Orthodontics for great work!), but I am prepared to invest in the foundation work and identify new faces for my walls.

Happy Birthday Jack Paris! This is your second birthday that we will celebrate without the ability to hug you, tease you, make you wear a funny hat at dinner, or endure a wait staff rendition of Happy Birthday.  The choice we must make is how to address your birthday. Last year, we gathered at Buffalo Wild Wings as we knew you would have chosen and invited your friends to join us. Ms. Kim and Sarah Beth brought a cake.  We took pics and shared stories. It was fun, hard, and something we all “just got through”. We were so thankful to have so many join us that night; adults that worked so hard to help you in school and in life, your friends that showed up for you consistently including in death, the girl you dreamed of marrying, and of course your Grands.  You know Gpa is not a fan of BWW, but he would do anything to honor you. More than once they ate places they didn’t care for just to spend time with you.

So much has happened this year that was sparked by your unconditional love of others.  #loveBIG Foundation took off and we are making progress with name recognition, fund raising, and providing assistance.  How do we spend January 18^th this year? Do we have a foundation event? A birthday meal? Stay In? Go Out? Who do we invite? The same friends that showed up for us last year or those that we have gotten to know this year through Jack stories?

You see, we randomly have kids we don’t know stop us and share stories of how you “saved them”. Those are their words.  Often their stories include how mad they were at you and how they wouldn’t talk to you because you shared their secrets with adults you trusted to step in, but now- in hindsight- they are thankful and could really go for a great big Jack hug right now. Couldn’t we all! We have adults in the community share a time you helped them.  Maybe we should spend the day just “helping”- holding doors, smiling, carrying groceries, changing tires, sharing food, listening, telling people to “cheer up buttercup”, raising the flag at Safe Harbor, taking fast food to hungry friends, driving people to work or school, fixing broken equipment or volunteering to cut grass at Bluegrass Challenge Academy. You see these are a few things we heard you did without thinking twice.

We were blinded by what you didn’t do. You didn’t invest in school. You didn’t finish projects, as our garage still attests too. You didn’t stick with a sport or activity. You didn’t clean your room, do your laundry, or follow the rules about dogs on beds and drinks in rooms.  You didn’t answer texts from your Grands or sisters. You didn’t know your work schedule beyond the next day. You didn’t follow the speed limit. You didn’t quit hanging with our idea of a bad crowd just because we worried what others would think. You didn’t stop smoking, vaping, and various other activities that we weren’t supposed to know about. You didn’t make plans beyond, I’m 18, graduated, and I have all this new found freedom. The frustration your dad and I had with how to address these behaviors and other rule breaking can’t be summarized in a blog post.   We did everything we could to figure out your brain, your thought process, and your choices. While going through this journey, we thought we were the only parents with this struggle. Other kids might not do their homework or might break curfew, but we didn’t think anybody in our community was walking our path.

We were wrong. The most inquires we have received about the foundation surround these types of parenting frustrations. Many don’t need financial help, they need to know how to raise a teenager that is struggling with the same issues that you did. They need the same resources we needed- it takes a village after all. They thought they were the only parents experiencing these concerns because nobody in the community talks about life with the Jack’s of the world. Aren’t we all supposed to have picture perfect kids that achieve all while being an athlete and homecoming king? Every story shared with me by a desperate parent that wants a resource or advice, breaks my heart and reminds me of where we were. Why do we not all have real conversations and support each other in this crazy journey? It is hard because if you talk about these frustrations you worry your kid won’t be included or invited or loved.  You worry that their siblings will be held accountable for the behavior of their brother or sister. You worry about the stink eye in Kroger. I don’t have the answer for these parents, but I listen, share the resources I used, and go back to the stories that we have heard since your accident. All the stuff we didn’t see or know.  All the things you were doing right. Many times I have said, if only I had known. I want to give the frustrated parents reaching out to me a picture into what they might not be seeing. I also challenge them to find a group that will be a resource to listen and help. A group like the birthday club we had join us last year. I go back to all the people that showed up last year for your birthday because those people also showed up for you in life.  When your dad and I were at our wits end, these people could take over loving you or pick us up off the floor.  So for your birthday we are going to make sure to thank that village of people and gift them our appreciation, gratitude, and show them the meaning of #loveBIG.  Happy Birthday Bud!

Exciting things have been happening at the #loveBIG Foundation. The foundation has sent kids to camp, funded youth football players, provided shelving for a youth library, funded a park bench at a local park, and connected youth with job opportunities. This is remarkable progress for a foundation in its infancy!  In order to introduce the foundation and continue our momentum, we knew we needed to work some events and create recognition.  Our daughter, Olivia, was interested in an internship for the fall semester and approached us about working for the foundation. Her pitch was that she would gain business experience, help us launch, and feel connected to her brother.  Well, why not use our intern to arrange for some event exposure? This seemed liked a win win for all. She wasted no time and soon had us booked for a booth at a local festival.  She poured into the preparations; coordinated signs, lists, marketing items, and volunteers. The big day came and I was responsible for manning the booth.  I had some help from fellow board member, Kimberly Hudson. Good thing I did! The first booth visitors posed a reasonable question, what is the #loveBIG Foundation? Those that know me, know that I am never speechless. There is a first for everything. I couldn’t form sentences, couldn’t provide a succinct message. Kimberly jumped in and was able to share our story, mission and create excitement that generated volunteer leads and shirt sales. I just stood, blinking, embarrassed and ready to make the decision that I belonged behind the scenes for the first time in my life. I have never walked away from a stage or an opportunity to voice an important, heart-felt message but that night I clearly did. As the night went on, I spoke to a few when Kimberly was occupied.  I used our board that we had assembled to introduce the foundation and essentially read or asked them to read the About Us section. By the end of the night, I was exhausted. I couldn’t fathom why, because I really had not done much but push things around the booth and visit with friends. Back in the office on Monday, Olivia was able to add to our volunteer list and database and process shirt orders. I was back in my element. Pushing paper and checking boxes. I didn’t really think more about this experience.  I bragged about my intern and moved on. Not long after, the intern came through again. Another event opportunity! Gift wrapping for a Christmas vendor fair.  Perfect! The possibility to gather shirt orders and donations for additional funding while also spreading the word about the foundation and garnering additional recognition of our mission.  Our avid supporters showed up by providing gift wrap, boxes, tape, bows, and time commitments to work in the booth. The interns friends spent many a night crafting ornaments and Christmas decorations in the hopes of exchanging them for donations to the foundation.

Unfortunately, the days leading up to the event were consumed with tragedy; from shootings in churches and college hang outs, to the tragic loss of my cousins daughter and her husband of 2 hours in a helicopter crash. I was paralyzed with grief for our country and the families effected by these horrific events. Since Jack’s death, every story of loss and tragedy now consumes me even if it isn’t personal.  It’s like a scab that almost heals and a new story is on the news or, if close to home, delivered by text or FB and I can’t help but scratch until the sore is raw again and the scab torn away. I pushed through the week by working and preparing for the event. The day arrived and as I am headed to the event with the car loaded from top to bottom it dawns on me that Kimberly won’t be there to address inquiries or randomly grab people in the crowd to tell them about the foundation. Yes, she really did that! Panic, tears, fear… I can’t breath. Siri…call Kimberly Hudson. I inquire as to her commitments for the day and finally she asks- what do you need? I explain, I’ve had a bad week. The world is in a mess and my family experienced another horrific loss and … and… it all comes tumbling out.  Y’all I talk fast normally, but I think I set a record.  I can’t fix the world or say the magical thing to help my family or tell people about the foundation. There it was. I couldn’t take it back.  She knew.

I kept going, of course, not letting her get a word in edgewise. I want to help the Jack’s of the world and I want people to know that the Jack’s of the world can help others like he did and so don’t give up on them. Jack’s story can’t be told standing at a booth for 5 minutes. It’s messy and sorted and long and all I have left of him and I can’t compact it into an elevator speech.  I don’t want people to give money because they pity me or my family. I don’t want people to hear a sentence mission statement and think that captures what we are trying to accomplish. Research shows that people have a 9 second attention span. Jack’s was less than that. How can I possibly put #loveBIG into 9 seconds and do it justice, but I don’t want people to feel like they have to listen to me and give because I am the grieving mom.

As I stopped for air, Kimberly began first aid. “…You aren’t asking for money for you or your family. You are asking for money and volunteers to help youth. You are speaking up for the Jack’s. People will stand and listen because you will talk from your heart because you can tell Jack’s messy story and what Jack was able to do for others with no resources or foundation behind him…” I had been telling those close to me that I was super sensitive to world events and loss and as Kimberly washed the scab and placed a bandaid  she reminded me that I can turn that sensitivity and loss into passion for #loveBIG Foundation. I can’t fix random gun events or helicopter crashes. I can’t go back and keep my son from falling asleep behind the wheel, but I can use the #loveBIG Foundation to share my heart and Jack’s heart and; hopefully, motivate others to #loveBIG.

I managed to work the event every hour we were open. It wasn’t comfortable, but my mantra…it’s for the youth… it’s for the Jack’s… enabled me to have conversations that were genuine and raw and possibly uncomfortable for those hearing the story, but I had a home for all that passion and I hope we will be a place were others with this type of passion can volunteer and express why we should #loveBIG. Thanks Kimberly Hudson for the triage!

This weekend we attended a beautiful wedding for our niece, Paris Hoover. The girls were excited to be included in decorating, singing, and having the opportunity to dress-up and witness a remarkable outdoor ceremony. There were the usual last minute concerns…would everything get done? That is when the triggers began. Jack Paris would have hauled chairs, moved tables, offered to drive the signs, blown up the balloons and then shared his high pitched helium filled voice. I giggled to myself and kept going. As the girls primped and prepared, I imagined the AXE filling the hotel room and your mischievous giggle knowing we would all smell of AXE. During the ceremony. where Christ was highlighted as the foundation and center of this new union, I glimpsed a lovebig tattoo on the wrist of the bride. You see she works with kids that struggle with learning and she purposefully pieced together your dysgraphic script and tattooed it on her wrist so her school kids would ask her about it and she could share your story.

Next we witnessed a guest grab a doughnut before the reception doors where open off the dessert table and again, I imagined you would have joined her and had a good laugh. Then the buffet…a taco bar. You would have demolished that buffet and the wedding would have been deemed “Gucci”. We all spoke of these Jackisms and giggled together. The family knew you well. Then my giggle was stifled and tears rolled as the bride danced with her dad to You’ve Got a Friend in Me from Toy Story. Your favorite movie. Then…the groom danced with his mother. I’ll never get to do that. Then… the dancing started and one of your songs came on. You know the loud, crazy, ones I complained about and I had to step out. The day was all about Paris and Austin and their new journey and these glimpses were minute in comparison. I was able to enjoy the day and cherish the moment with the family, but you are still part of this family and I will not apologize for moments that included you- sad or happy. So what does all this have to do with the foundation? Well, as I was standing on the porch escaping that loud song, it dawned on me that I had no right to wallow in the lack of a mother/son dance or a DJ at your wedding. The people you were showing up for every day may not have a mother in their lives (several didn’t) or the monetary ability for a wedding. The right clothes for a wedding are not part of their wardrobe. Instead of what I will never experience with you, I need to show up and experience in the lives of those that you reached out to and it certainly isn’t dictated by a wedding day. Christ was the center of this wedding which is based on the permanent union between Christ and the church. Marriage is the pattern established by God when He willed Christ and the church to become one body. The foundation is our opportunity to carry out our charge of making Christ and the church (not a building, but the people) one body. Jack Paris I would have lost you in all this and that’s ok because you don’t have to get the thought pattern or understand the academic connections because you lived this way because you knew God. Most importantly what you knew about God was that no life situation, bad choice, or brokenness was too great to break the union. May #loveBIG see several wedding days in the coming years.

To educate and advocate for youth… that simple. There are no restrictions. Many think this is a mistake. We should draw lines in the sand for who will be helped. We understand this sentiment. It would make it crystal clear and, likely, open up our ability as a foundation to apply for certain grants that want to verify structure exists. We could never be accused of playing favorites for recipients of money or volunteer time. The board would not have to discuss each application because the rules would predefine who can receive. But you see… the #loveBIG foundation was born out of the heart and actions of Jack Paris and he wasn’t much for coloring inside the lines. Structure was good for him because of his ADHD, but too much structure …too many boxes tampered his spirit. He didn’t judge based on color, money, location, or any of the preconceived notions we are all accustomed to because he was constantly judged and it was a horrible feeling. Perhaps somebody that asked for a ride came from a middle class family that had the means to provide transportation, but he didn’t deny that request based on lack of need. Maybe that person needed a ride because they needed somebody to listen to them or spend time with them. Maybe a kid was bumming money for fast food because they hadn’t eaten and didn’t want to go home to eat or maybe they really had no food or money and needed to eat. Jack didn’t differentiate the request; he offered the meal and joined in for the conversation and the food. He loved food! Perhaps we are naïve and we can’t run a foundation like this, but we can certainly try. We told Jack time and again, just try. It is our turn. We are going to try. Try to meet people where they are. Maybe they do have teachers or parents willing to help fill out job applications, Jack certainly did. However, maybe having somebody else listen, help, and offer a fresh perspective would prove most beneficial for that youth in that moment. Tonight I asked Nathan why we hear stories a year after the accident of Jack showing up for dinner and Netflix with a random family around town when we would have loved for him to join us for dinner and Netflix. Nathan reminded me that sometimes our youth need affirmation from somebody that doesn’t have to love them unconditionally, but choses too. Maybe the parents that are charged with building structure for their youth can’t be the ear or encourager at a moment in time when it is needed because we have to be the parents and not the friends/mentors. It is our turn to be the friends/mentors. Jack had a tribe. Yes, he gave freely, but he also took freely. He knew his tribe would show up. So many stories to be shared, but this one seems to culminate one of our simplest goals. During a rough patch his senior year, Jack had a mentor that told him to try to make 3 good choices a day. Maybe they were small… go to school, take out the trash, don’t yell at your sister. Maybe they were big… finishing a class to graduate, don’t get a speeding ticket, be kind to all. For a long time, Jack texted that mentor his 3 choices every day for accountability. Jack knew that this tribe member would forgive him if he didn’t hit 3 and would praise and celebrate when he did hit 3. We had no idea this was happening until after his accident, but what we knew immediately was that we wanted to be that tribe/mentor for the Jack’s of the world. We wanted to show up for lots of 3’s when nobody else was. So yes, #loveBIG is to educate and advocate for youth like Jack did, but also like Jack’s tribe did. From a list of 3 to a meal to a ride…we will pass it forward.

During my work day, the phone rang and the screen flashed one of my favorite peeps name and so, work can wait…what’s up my friend? It is very rare that I get a call from said friend during the day as she is a teacher. What followed knocked me to my knees.  You see my friend’s daughter had placed an SOS call to her mom at work because said daughters’ phone rang and her screen flashed Jack Paris as the caller.  Now my initial, irrational thought, was…why didn’t he call me? Crazy right? So after weaving the pieces together, the best we can determine is that his old number (ATT assured me they burned the number permanently) is somehow on a telemarketer randomize list and in a freak incident dialed the child of one of our dearest friends.  I’m a little jealous that she got the call.  It got me thinking…what would I tell my boy if he randomly called to check it?

 

“I LOVE YOU SON!! You were an amazing son and we are so proud of you. We are fine, but we sure miss you.  Thank you for being the hands and feet of Christ when you walked on this earth and opening our eyes and heart so we can go #loveBIG.  We started this foundation in your honor, but all you need to know is that we are going to be difference makers like you! ”

[rēfrā′ming]

changing the conceptual and/or emotional viewpoint in relation to which a situation is experienced and placing it in a different frame that fits the “facts” of a concrete situation equally well, thereby changing its entire meaning.

We know to our core that we must reframe this loss: the loss of our child…loss of a brother…loss of a nephew…loss of a grandchild…loss of a friend… loss of a student…loss of a friend…loss of a difference maker. We have done our best to reframe our counting, but we must stretch beyond that to fill this incredible void. We can’t continue to wallow in this tragedy as we know that is not what Jack Paris would want.  We know better, but flounder to determine what to do with our energy and love.  Our What If’s begin to take over our thoughts. What If we could honor Jack by following his example of showing up for people? What if we could somehow share the money and time he was willing to share? It sounds so big to us…a foundation is what this is called according to the community leaders that understand our inquiries. Too intimidating, we need time to work through this grief, so the idea goes in a box for another day.  As we put one foot in front of another, we are approached by others that knew Jack and are trying to love us through this and they bring forth this foundation idea. We acknowledge, say we have thought about it, put it back in the box.  Then smack, three different people- unknown to each other- reach out in the same week, literally unboxing this foundation idea. This loss is reframed and the #loveBIG Foundation is born.

February  13^th – nine months.  We count the family events you miss, the weekends we aren’t traveling together, the holidays, the firsts you never saw, the news we never shared with you, the hugs that hang in the air… and the list goes on. We count. We will never stop counting.  In an effort to honor what we think would be your wishes to move forward and find joy, we reframed our counting early in our grief.  We counted 13 things we are thankful for on the 13^th of each month, the date of your death that pounds us in the face every month. We counted 13 pictures of you living to the fullest and posted those on the 13^th of each month. We counted 13 acts of kindness at Christmas in your honor.  Reframing helped, but the void is still there. As we searched to fill the void, we kept circling back to the stories of you sharing yourself with others. Counting those stories helped us find our joy. Frankly, it brought some guilt too as we could trace the timing of the stories to instances where we were so frustrated with you.  We saw that you were late for obligations because you were just talking with a friend- couldn’t you catch up with them tomorrow? Little did we know that talking them into continuing to live this life could not be put off because we were going to be late. You were out of gas when we had just filled your tank- where was all your gas going? We know now that you were granting rides to work, home, and school to those that did not have a car or family to step up.  Sure, there were times where you were rebelling and not doing what we asked for no good reason other than being 18. You made mistakes…broke rules… but now we count beyond the mess ups and count the times you showed up.  We started asking …what if? What if we tried to show up every day in your honor instead of just on the 13^th? What if we could make a point to relate to those that you met eye to eye to hear and support without judging on their living accommodations, clothes, or grammar.     What if we could continue to help those that you helped without a blink of the eye?  What if …

Monday afternoon. I really wanted my hair colored before you arrived. I couldn’t fathom bad roots showing in the birth pictures. I didn’t have to worry. You see I didn’t get pictures because you were in so big a hurry the camera was still in the car! You arrived like a cork screw football pass at 6:25. The doctor said he had never seen it. What an entry into the world! You never stopped being in a hurry. The first years were a test.  How much crying could I take and how fast could you accomplish the physical goals of walking, running, jumping, and generally taking risks. You couldn’t be contained by a seat, a carpet square, or a bed. Soon we were faced with the ADHD and ODD diagnosis- we were certain you would be the next Michael Phelps or Steve Jobs. They fought these “labels” and persevered. Through elementary school you fooled us all by “reading” your way to AR reward after AR reward… how smart you were to make it to 7^th grade before we had any idea you were dyslexic and challenged by learning processing disorders.  You couldn’t get those points/rewards by reading so you were using your other resources- pictures, common sense fitting into the story- survival instinct. Now you have these labels and we still need you to fit into a box for the school district and …well, what society says you should be and do.  But you don’t fit. You know it. You start looking to fit…which again challenges us. Sneaking out of the house, rule breaking, driving fast, stealing, lying …we pushed you to be part of something- a team, a group and then you wouldn’t feel different. Silly us, the team- the group…they broke the rules too and you followed. All we could see was the rule breaking, the jogger pants, the music full of cuss words and lude behavior… what do we do to make you fit in the box? Months of therapy and advice- hard work by you and us…compromises on both sides. Military school, you might want to join the military so why not? The regimen and accountability are good for you so, yes, the military is good. But…once again, your ADHD prevents that life choice. You see this as the military not wanting you either. 18. High School complete. We are learning to live together and figure this out… and then a curve in the road- literally. Now we see… you created a new box. You helped so many fit in this flexible box of yours. The ones that have shared that you talked them into living, or not cutting, or not running way. You smiled and spoke when nobody else did that day. It didn’t matter that the person you smiled and spoke too wasn’t wearing the right clothes, listening to the right music, or fitting in the rigid box. Now we find the marked Bible. The notes of verses- Job…Deuteronomy…Isaiah- in your barely legible script. You lived a full life in your 18 years here with us- social battles, emotional battles, academic battles…driving fast, taking risks, loving hard.  You messed up, you challenged, you wore us out. Now we see… you loved unconditionally. You shared money you didn’t have. You gave time. You listened. You did so much right. You are teaching me lessons 8 months after that wicked curve took your life and so today I celebrate your birth.

Jack Paris- 01/18/1999-05/13/2017
#loveBIG
#noonelovedharder