Those we love don't go away, they walk beside us every day.
Unseen, unheard, but always near; still loved, still missed and very dear.
~Anonymous~
On October 8, 2014, my 13 year old son Peyton hanged himself in his bedroom at his mother's house in Georgetown, Texas. At the time, I was 160 miles away in The Woodlands, Texas. I was just leaving work when I got the call from his mother. I was in the process of leaving work when his mother called. I had just finished sprinting through the rain to my truck when she called. After hanging up, I sat in the cab of the truck, screaming, yelling, pounding on the steering wheel and punching the roof. I had tears streaming down my face and snot running out of my nose. I begged God to take my life instead, to let Peyton live. Until my wife Lisa arrived to pick me up, I kept pleading for God to take me from the Earth if only Peyton could live.
For the next five days I sat buy his side in the PICU at Dell Children's Medical Center in Austin, and was at his side on October 13th when he passed. The entire time he was in the hospital, I continued to plead with God to take my life instead. I even went so far as to visit the chapel in the hospital, get down on my hands and knees, and beg for God to take me instead.
My faith had taught me that there was a heaven, and that it was a reward for those that had let Christ into their lives. Peyton had been baptized, and truly loved going to church, so I believed he was in a better place where everything was beautiful and nothing hurt. However, from the time he hanged himself until the time he passed , he never regained consciousness, and aside from one brief moment, he never made any movement that wasn't involuntary, so I truly wanted to know that he was okay. Upon returning home, I spent a lot of time at the prayer fountain at my church talking to Peyton. I did what most grieving parents did and asked for a sign that he was okay.
In the week between Peyton's passing and his funeral, I took advantage of the beautiful October weather that we Texans look forward to after our brutal summers. Whether it was sitting on the deck reading, fixing the fence, or taking our Corgi, Earl, for a walk, I noticed an abundance of butterflies and dragonflies. Neither one is unusual in Texas in October, so I thought nothing of it even though they seemed to be where ever I went. I also noted a spike in Earl's activity. Normally content to spend the evenings sprawled out on the cool tile floor of the kitchen, he would walk into the living room, look into a spot where no one was sitting and let out a cross between a howl and a growl, get very excited, and wiggle his tailless booty. When we would call out to him, it seemed to break his trance, and he looked around wondering why we were all staring at him.
None of these alone were unusual, but combined they seemed too much of a coincidence, especially when people began to ask me if I had dreams about where I talked to Peyton, or had seen signs that his spirit was still around. For example, both the butterfly and the dragonfly are both considered to be spiritual messengers. Even though there is no scientific proof that dogs can or can't see spirits, there are those that believe that they can. Maybe this is just my mind (and many others) seeing what it wants to see, or wishful thinking on our part as well. I began to read various articles, blogs and postings about signs from our loved ones. Then again, it is one of the many unexplained phenomena that that people argue the existence of. They talk about everything from physical signs such as coins and seashells, to music, numbers, and smells. The funny thing is, I never saw these signs when I was looking for them, but rather when I wasn't even thinking about Peyton.
Over the last three and a half years, I have seen these signs occasionally, but never really put much thought into it. My daughter and Emmy and I would see a cardinal or a dragonfly and say "It's Peyton", but never put much though into it until this past February.
Last year, for the first time since Peyton's death, I decided to take a chance and began looking to make a change in my working situation. I have been the assistant swim coach for several years, and decided that I wanted to be a head coach. It was a big move for me. The experts say that after a traumatic death like a suicide, no major decisions should be made. They say don't move, don't change jobs, don't do anything during that time that you may look back on and regret. This was a bold step for me. I was still battling depression and anxiety, not exactly ideal circumstances for a job hunter. I had several interviews, but nothing panned out, but rather than give up, I decided that I would try again this year.
Two new high schools (one in my district) were opening locally, and I thought that I might have a chance to start the program. After talking things over with my wife, I decided to put my name in for both jobs. I also talked to Peyton about it. Now some people would scratch their head wondering why I would talk to my deceased son for permission. Through the Peyton Heart Project, I go to schools in order to tell the students Peyton's story and explain to them about mental health issues, bullying, and suicide awareness and prevention. Should I become a head coach, I would have to drastically reduce my speaking engagements to fulfill my duties as a head coach. I wanted Peyton to know what I was doing and why, that I still intended to honor his memory and legacy, but it would have to be on a smaller scale.
Any one that has ever looked for a job knows that the waiting is the worst part. I spent hours working on updating and improving my resume, composing a cover letter, and dotting the "I's" and crossing the "T's" on the applications. Once the jobs were posted, I applied immediately, I emailed the principals and athletic directors, then sat back to wait. Nothing. I heard no response from anyone. One of the jobs was even posted three times, each time whittling down the teaching fields (of which I possess one). I don't know which is worse, the anxiety of waiting, or the depression that sets in at the end of each day when I don't hear anything. I make inquiries, I talk to people in the know, email the appropriate people to keep my name in mind. Nothing.
Some days are worse than others. On those days, I talk to Peyton and ask him if he wants me to keep pursuing these jobs. There are days when I wonder if he does, but it never fails that when I am at my lowest, Peyton sends me a sign. The first came when I was taking some uniforms to the swim team's equipment cage. I opened up the door, and there, sitting on the floor was a dime. Most of the time, I would have thought nothing of it, picked it up and pocketed it for Emmy to put in her piggy bank, but this was not one of those times. It had been a rough day, and I needed a sign, and there it was. A few days later, it was a quarter, and a few more after that, it was a nickel. All of these were found at the school. Silver money doesn't last on the floor very long. Any coin that can go into a vending machine gets snapped up quickly, but there it was in plain sight waiting for me.
The most telling sign from Peyton came last week in the form of a dragonfly. Emmy and I were at the park one afternoon. As she was burning off an excess of energy on the playground, I was sitting on one of the benches looking at job postings on my phone. It was discouraging because there seemed to be no openings locally that I was interested in. As I was scrolling, I was surprised by a dragonfly. I swatted at it and sent it flying away. After hitting it, I was struck by what it could have represented and apologized to it for my behavior. After Emmy finished playing and throwing rocks into the pond, we walked to the bike rack. I took my bike off the rack and as I waited for Emmy to get her helmet on, the same dragonfly (or his twin brother) landed on one of my tires. It sat patiently while I slowly reached out to it. Instead of flying off, it jumped off of the tire and onto my finger. It stayed there as I called Emmy over to look at it, and even with Emmy bouncing around, it didn't move. It was then that I was convinced that it was a visit from Peyton.
I know there are a lot of people thinking that I am full of crap, or that I am just seeing what I want to see. Maybe I am. There are those that will claim there is no life after death. Maybe they are right. Maybe I am just hoping for something that doesn't exist to ease my conscience and pain. Maybe I am looking in all the wrong places for solace. But what if I am right. Of course there are those that need no proof, just their faith to say there is life after death, but there are those that say that there is an afterlife, and even claim scientific evidence. When push comes to shove, I'll take what ever keeps my son alive in my heart.
*Author's Note: On Wednesday, May 2nd, I was having another bad day. I was feeling hopeless, especially as the school year winds down. On my way to my car, I had to maneuver around a car that was in my usual path. As I went around, there was a penny on the ground in front of me. It was old, tarnished and scratched up, but it was still a sign. When I got home, I took Earl for a walk. Along the way, I saw a cardinal sitting on a sign as we walked past, and further on, the same dragonfly seemed to follow us along the sidewalk, several butterflies were taking advantage of the spring bloom Say what you want, but I will take these as a sign.
If you have read this far, please take a few minutes to view the video I collaborated on with Project Caleb and The Peyton Heart Project. Thank you.
"A Day Without Peyton"
My faith had taught me that there was a heaven, and that it was a reward for those that had let Christ into their lives. Peyton had been baptized, and truly loved going to church, so I believed he was in a better place where everything was beautiful and nothing hurt. However, from the time he hanged himself until the time he passed , he never regained consciousness, and aside from one brief moment, he never made any movement that wasn't involuntary, so I truly wanted to know that he was okay. Upon returning home, I spent a lot of time at the prayer fountain at my church talking to Peyton. I did what most grieving parents did and asked for a sign that he was okay.
In the week between Peyton's passing and his funeral, I took advantage of the beautiful October weather that we Texans look forward to after our brutal summers. Whether it was sitting on the deck reading, fixing the fence, or taking our Corgi, Earl, for a walk, I noticed an abundance of butterflies and dragonflies. Neither one is unusual in Texas in October, so I thought nothing of it even though they seemed to be where ever I went. I also noted a spike in Earl's activity. Normally content to spend the evenings sprawled out on the cool tile floor of the kitchen, he would walk into the living room, look into a spot where no one was sitting and let out a cross between a howl and a growl, get very excited, and wiggle his tailless booty. When we would call out to him, it seemed to break his trance, and he looked around wondering why we were all staring at him.
None of these alone were unusual, but combined they seemed too much of a coincidence, especially when people began to ask me if I had dreams about where I talked to Peyton, or had seen signs that his spirit was still around. For example, both the butterfly and the dragonfly are both considered to be spiritual messengers. Even though there is no scientific proof that dogs can or can't see spirits, there are those that believe that they can. Maybe this is just my mind (and many others) seeing what it wants to see, or wishful thinking on our part as well. I began to read various articles, blogs and postings about signs from our loved ones. Then again, it is one of the many unexplained phenomena that that people argue the existence of. They talk about everything from physical signs such as coins and seashells, to music, numbers, and smells. The funny thing is, I never saw these signs when I was looking for them, but rather when I wasn't even thinking about Peyton.
Over the last three and a half years, I have seen these signs occasionally, but never really put much thought into it. My daughter and Emmy and I would see a cardinal or a dragonfly and say "It's Peyton", but never put much though into it until this past February.
Last year, for the first time since Peyton's death, I decided to take a chance and began looking to make a change in my working situation. I have been the assistant swim coach for several years, and decided that I wanted to be a head coach. It was a big move for me. The experts say that after a traumatic death like a suicide, no major decisions should be made. They say don't move, don't change jobs, don't do anything during that time that you may look back on and regret. This was a bold step for me. I was still battling depression and anxiety, not exactly ideal circumstances for a job hunter. I had several interviews, but nothing panned out, but rather than give up, I decided that I would try again this year.
Two new high schools (one in my district) were opening locally, and I thought that I might have a chance to start the program. After talking things over with my wife, I decided to put my name in for both jobs. I also talked to Peyton about it. Now some people would scratch their head wondering why I would talk to my deceased son for permission. Through the Peyton Heart Project, I go to schools in order to tell the students Peyton's story and explain to them about mental health issues, bullying, and suicide awareness and prevention. Should I become a head coach, I would have to drastically reduce my speaking engagements to fulfill my duties as a head coach. I wanted Peyton to know what I was doing and why, that I still intended to honor his memory and legacy, but it would have to be on a smaller scale.
Any one that has ever looked for a job knows that the waiting is the worst part. I spent hours working on updating and improving my resume, composing a cover letter, and dotting the "I's" and crossing the "T's" on the applications. Once the jobs were posted, I applied immediately, I emailed the principals and athletic directors, then sat back to wait. Nothing. I heard no response from anyone. One of the jobs was even posted three times, each time whittling down the teaching fields (of which I possess one). I don't know which is worse, the anxiety of waiting, or the depression that sets in at the end of each day when I don't hear anything. I make inquiries, I talk to people in the know, email the appropriate people to keep my name in mind. Nothing.
Some days are worse than others. On those days, I talk to Peyton and ask him if he wants me to keep pursuing these jobs. There are days when I wonder if he does, but it never fails that when I am at my lowest, Peyton sends me a sign. The first came when I was taking some uniforms to the swim team's equipment cage. I opened up the door, and there, sitting on the floor was a dime. Most of the time, I would have thought nothing of it, picked it up and pocketed it for Emmy to put in her piggy bank, but this was not one of those times. It had been a rough day, and I needed a sign, and there it was. A few days later, it was a quarter, and a few more after that, it was a nickel. All of these were found at the school. Silver money doesn't last on the floor very long. Any coin that can go into a vending machine gets snapped up quickly, but there it was in plain sight waiting for me.
The most telling sign from Peyton came last week in the form of a dragonfly. Emmy and I were at the park one afternoon. As she was burning off an excess of energy on the playground, I was sitting on one of the benches looking at job postings on my phone. It was discouraging because there seemed to be no openings locally that I was interested in. As I was scrolling, I was surprised by a dragonfly. I swatted at it and sent it flying away. After hitting it, I was struck by what it could have represented and apologized to it for my behavior. After Emmy finished playing and throwing rocks into the pond, we walked to the bike rack. I took my bike off the rack and as I waited for Emmy to get her helmet on, the same dragonfly (or his twin brother) landed on one of my tires. It sat patiently while I slowly reached out to it. Instead of flying off, it jumped off of the tire and onto my finger. It stayed there as I called Emmy over to look at it, and even with Emmy bouncing around, it didn't move. It was then that I was convinced that it was a visit from Peyton.
I know there are a lot of people thinking that I am full of crap, or that I am just seeing what I want to see. Maybe I am. There are those that will claim there is no life after death. Maybe they are right. Maybe I am just hoping for something that doesn't exist to ease my conscience and pain. Maybe I am looking in all the wrong places for solace. But what if I am right. Of course there are those that need no proof, just their faith to say there is life after death, but there are those that say that there is an afterlife, and even claim scientific evidence. When push comes to shove, I'll take what ever keeps my son alive in my heart.
*Author's Note: On Wednesday, May 2nd, I was having another bad day. I was feeling hopeless, especially as the school year winds down. On my way to my car, I had to maneuver around a car that was in my usual path. As I went around, there was a penny on the ground in front of me. It was old, tarnished and scratched up, but it was still a sign. When I got home, I took Earl for a walk. Along the way, I saw a cardinal sitting on a sign as we walked past, and further on, the same dragonfly seemed to follow us along the sidewalk, several butterflies were taking advantage of the spring bloom Say what you want, but I will take these as a sign.
If you have read this far, please take a few minutes to view the video I collaborated on with Project Caleb and The Peyton Heart Project. Thank you.
"A Day Without Peyton"
I have had many signs from Jackson, I know he is sending them to me.... When it first happened, I shared it with my counselor... His response was that when we grief we develop a magical thinking...maybe... It has been nine years and I continue to find signs...I take them as gifts and I don't question them.💝
ReplyDeleteMy religion has taught me there is a Heaven. My faith teaches me that God forgives in all circumstances. Love enables to believe that those who have passed connect with us on their own schedule, because I become completely overwhelmed unexpectedly...my heart swelling with emotion...the same feeling of love that I felt every time I hugged my Dad when he was alive. He passed 2 years ago. Yes, he, too sends signs such as the time he set off my alarm clock as I was lying in bed mid-day asking for his advice. Loss is so very hard, but I rather feel this pain than to not. It's a reminder of how profound love is. To say, "I'm sorry for your loss," is inadequate. Instead, "Thank you so very much for your blog." I came across it accidentally this evening. I cry as I read it. Logically, I know so many people grieve, but it isn't socially acceptable to do it 1. publically or 2. beyond a timeline each person seems acceptable...if that makes sense.
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