Defined

"Grief is like a long valley,

a winding valley where any bend

may reveal a totally new landscape."

C.S. Lewis

We've all seen it circulating around Facebook, Pintrest, etc., countless times, probably on a daily basis: "You are not defined by your past." I tend to disagree. I think our past does, indeed, define who we are today...and tomorrow...and each day, thereafter. "The choices that we've made in the past don't define who we are today." Again, I disagree. Everything we did yesterday or ten years ago; everything we did or will do today, tomorrow, or ten years from now, defines us. It doesn't mean we're the same people, making the same mistakes over and over again. Whatever actions we take, positive or negative, define us...and they change us. And in many circumstances, at least for some of us, we are defined and redefined on a daily basis...sometimes even multiple times throughout the course of any given day. But I can't speak for you or your circumstances. I speak only for myself and how my life is constantly being defined, redefined, and changed by grief. Daily. 

I open my eyes each morning, and the first thought I'm greeted with is the reality of Brittany's absence. Defined...by the nightmare that is. I drive my son to school, passing Brittany's old Jr. High, painfully remembering all the times I dropped her off or picked her up, images of her laughing with her group of friends. Defined...by what was. Then there are days those same memories make me smile. Defined...by the sound of her laugh and how much I miss it. I drive past our old house and remember how excited she was to have her very first brand new bedroom in our newly built home. Sadness encroaches. Defined again...by days long past, yet seem like only yesterday. Sometimes, a smile may cross my face, as I slow down and gaze up into the window of the bedroom that was once hers. Defined...by nostalgia. I remember how she insisted on it being painted purple. Defined...by the comical memory of painting it...and us...purple. I remember the "For Sale" sign that was placed in our yard because of an unexpected move. Defined...by anger. And all this 'defining' I just described...that's just a fraction of what can happen to me at any time...on any day...all before noon. 

I have days when I stare at her pictures and simply can't wrap my brain around it all. Defined...by confusion. I still have days when I cry out to God, begging Him to explain it all to me. Defined...by why. Why her? So many of Brittany's friends are engaged or have already married and have children. Defined...by jealousy. I truly do not begrudge them in any way. I'm happy for them. But I cannot lie and say I don't feel robbed of the chance to ever see my husband walk my little girl down the aisle, all dressed in white. Her "Cinderella" moment. Defined...by what will never be: No shopping for wedding dresses. No wedding. No "little Brittany, golden-haired, blue-eyed grandchildren." Defined...by emptiness. Scrolling through the names and numbers on my phone and seeing hers. Defined...by silence. 

Friends...both hers and mine...who have quietly slipped out of my life. Defined...by loneliness and confusion. My predilection for reclusiveness. Defined...by safety. The fear of my ongoing grief, irrevocably harming personal and/or family relationships. Defined...by the anxiety of the unknown. My inability to control everything in my life. Defined...by helplessness. The seemingly ungratefulness of her organ recipients (51 months, and still not a simple "Thank You")...the lives she saved. Defined...by acrimony. The heart of my daughter, my heart, because I helped create it...our DNA...and the fact that it now beats in someone else. Defined...by my inability to let it go and accept the harrowing reality that it is no longer Brittany's...or mine. I have no claim. 

Of course the death of my baby girl changed me. Forever. No parent can deny that. For me though, the fact that Brittany is permanently absent from my daily life also defines me, and continues to redefine me, practically all the time. My mental and emotional characterization, my struggle to find out who I am in this world...sans Brittany, my very identity...they're all subconsciously reanalyzed, reassessed, revisited, and emended. Every. Single. Day. Perhaps it's just the nature of this nightmare that is. But that little, optimistic quote that, undoubtedly, makes its rounds somewhere in our daily lives? It doesn't apply to me...because my past does, in fact, define me. Because my past is also my present and future. They all include a world...my earthly life...without Brittany. 

But all this ongoing and exhausting defining and redefining of April Schuette? Well, it will finally be made perfect when Brittany and I are reunited in Heaven. That will be the final...and consummate definition of all. 

Philippians 1:6 "And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue His work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns."

(Have patience, God isn't finished yet).

I love you Brittany Erin <3