My Attempt to Express the Unexpressable......

I'm feeling the need to write right now. My husband and I just watched the movie, "the Curious Case of Benjamin Button." It was a good movie, we didn't appreciate some of the material in it, but overall, it gave a new perspective to life.... the beauty of the simplest things, that hardly anyone ever notices, but they walk by them each and every day.

This main character, Benjamin Button had the curious case of reverse aging. I was expecting him to look younger and younger but in the height... I was wrong... Sorry to spoil anyone's "first time watching this movie" but they actually had him become (literally) a little boy with dementia, to a toddler that was forgetting how to speak, to an infant. As the love of his life, who was very old at this point, was rocking him, they looked at each other deeply for a moment, and then she watched him close his eyes for the last time as if he just fell asleep....

I immediately threw my hands over my face and burst into tears. I'm crying again, just writing this, reliving that moment. My heart is aching so much right now, as if I had just lost her yesterday. It's been almost 4 years since she left, and today I sit, still having moments of being suffocated by this pain. I began imagining if she would've died like that....
in my arms....   while I was rocking her to sleep.

Would that have been better? Made things easier? Knowing that she will die soon?
I can't answer these questions. I'm getting a head ache just thinking about it all.

After the movie was over, Josh and I just sat there on the couch as I cried my eyes out. We began reminising about her. I remember when I first saw her smile. It wasn't with her mouth though. It was with her eyes. It was the weirdest thing, and I have yet to find another infant to do what she did. She'd look at us and then her eyes would light up and they would smile....
and then of course, later, came the big smiles; eyes, mouth, cheeks, arms and legs. Her blue eyes.....

Oh, I miss her so much. I wish I had the words to express what I'm feeling right now. I would just love to cradle her in my arms once more. I want my job back.... not that I could do it better, but because I love her and always will.

I really need to go to bed.


Oh, Lord Jesus

Bradley and Tracee's Story

Brad's the one behind me (the little girl in the front with the dress)

My cousin Brad was one of my favorites and closest cousins out of 18 of us. He was 2 years older than me, but that didn't seem to matter when he, my twin brothers, and I would play throughout our childhood. Both our families were extremely close. Us kids would stay at each other's houses, creating mischief, making home videos.

I remember my dad had a special love for Bradley cause when he'd be over at our house, my brothers would be off in their twin world, and where would Brad be?..... beside Dad in the garage, asking all these questions that a son would ask a father. "Why are you doing that?" "What's this for?"  Brad had a very healthy relationship with his parents, but regardless of that, Dad appreciated Brad in that way.

Brad's sister Toni

Brad was known, in my perspective, for imagination, building things, and blowing things up. He was your typical boy, through and through.

He didn't sweat the small stuff, and had a pretty good outlook on life. He was a great wrestler. I remember going to a few of his matches and he was always at the top.

I remember watching him be baptized. I thought it was interesting and very cool that he had the guts to get up there and get wet in front of everybody... :) of course, I knew what it was about, but of course as a shy little girl, that was a big deal for me. He truly did have a heart for God though.

He was always respectful and thought of others. Though he had a rough side, he could turn into a teddy bear in a minute.

I remember one of his friends in high school committed suicide. After that loss, he promised his mother he'd never do that to her. He understood the grief from the outside of such an event and saw how selfish it was to do something so permanent.  

Last Cratty Family Photo

 After September 11, 2001 Brad enlisted in the United States Air Force. Although it didn't surprise me that he did that, it still made me very sad because I was scared for him with the chaos in Iraq and I knew I wouldn't see him very much at all. Things were changing. I got married and got busy with my own life, my brothers were graduating and going their way, and Brad was off in the Air Force. No more childhood play.

 After a tour of duty in Iraq and Kuwait, he married the love of his life, Tracee. He met her through the military. Very little family met her because they were both based in Alaska. We were able to see pictures though, and she was beautiful. In the pictures, I could tell he loved her.

 Brad's favorite super hero was Superman. And that's how a lot of the family saw him,… as Superman. But like Superman has his kryptonite, so did Brad.
I guess being based out away from family with little to do, leaves a young man or woman freedom to explore. Brad unfortunately ran into a gambling problem. This gambling problem created a little financial issues for him and his new wife. But there was something bigger that was happening that was the catalyst of this moment I’m about to explain. After coming back from Iraq, but especially Kuwait, Tracee spoke later that his behavior changed. He became more aggressive, not towards her, but she would find him hitting himself. There were times she had to “talk him down” from hurting himself. It was reported that in Kuwait at that time, the alarm went off constantly making all the troops around put their gas masks on. This snowball helps explain a little of what happened "that day". A doctor’s assumption, going on all the facts about Brad, is that he may have easily had PTSD. (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) Leaving Tracee with her own PTSD.

Take my story with a grain of salt, I'm telling it to the best of my ability, with my Aunt Carmen’s help.
That day September 13, 2004, at their apartment at the base in Alaska, Brad and Tracee got into an argument. From what I heard their argument was about their finances, a common marital argument.
Aunt Carmen’s words-
 “Then after arguing, he was apparently trying to burn himself with an iron, and she tried to "talk him down" again and she said if you hurt yourself, I will hurt myself.. and so forth... so she grabbed the iron from him.  She also at some point had the hand gun and they took the bullets out and locked up the gun afterward, to stop the situation.  
They were watching the ball game and he went up stairs and said "You'll never know how much I love you" and she thought he was coming back down, that was the last thing he said.  Then she heard the gunshot…”
 She ran upstairs as fast as she could, knowing it came from the bedroom. When she got to the door, she found it locked. She literally, busted down that door to find her husband had shot himself in the head with his gun.
I was at home, when I got the call from Mom that Bradley was dead. My face went numb and I was in shock. "No, not Bradley!" I thought. A boy that I had so many memories with is gone? My mom told me to be careful, and to stay as calm as I could, but to find a way to get to Aunt Carmen and Uncle John's house. I was 7 months pregnant and I knew I needed to stay calm, but the tears I could not help. I could barely see the road because of my crying but I made it. I pulled into the driveway, nervous as to what I was going to find. Not very many people were there yet. Brad had one sibling, an older sister Toni, who lived in a different state because her husband was also in the military, so she hadn't arrived yet. 
I walked up to the door, took a deep breath and walked in. In the entrance room, I found Aunt Carmen, knelt on the floor, hunched over a basket of half folded laundry, sobbing and wailing as only a mother can, crying out, "He promised he wouldn't do this to me! He promised!" Someone was with her already as she cried but I can't remember who it was. I remember hugging her, but it was useless to try and console her with any words. As people flowed in, she was retelling and retelling the story of what happened.
“ It was 2 guys and a lady that came to the door in uniform and I just remember telling them they had to be at the wrong house and must be mistaken.  They stayed with me until others got there but wouldn't leave until John got home and they told him the same thing they told me, that Bradley had been killed by an apparently self inflicted gunshot wound to the head.   They were very nervous too, I could tell, it had to be a hard job for them.”  - Aunt Carmen
   Stories were relayed from family member to member about what happened. People flooded in with food and condolences. I don't even remember seeing my Uncle John, but I'm sure where ever he was, he was just as broken. Tracee was so traumatized by all this to the point that she needed serious help. By accident, she ended up in a ward where she was not supposed to be, and she found a way to call her parents to take her home. And they did.
I just could not believe what had just happened. Bradley was just not capable of such a thing..... was he?

It took a whole week to be able to get his body back home for all of us to have his funeral. I couldn't look at his body. I was terrified I would see evidence of the shot.
I remember seeing Tracee for the first and last time. They came in from Oklahoma. She was sitting at a table, with her parents surrounding her. Her head was down and her hands nervously sat in her lap. I saw the bruising and scrapes on her arms from when she busted the door down. The evidence of that was heartbreaking. She had constant tears in her eyes. I remember saying "hi" to her and introducing myself, saying I was so sorry, and she politely responded by smiling with the nod of her head towards me. Then she looked away, and back down. I walked away watching her as she sat there with a countenance in fear and despair as if people were attacking her with their words. It was as if you could've shattered her with a slight nudge.
The funeral was so beautiful in it's own way. An old youth pastor of his spoke and gave a wonderful message of Brad's heart and his salvation.
Days after the funeral, I remember various outside people remarking about Brad being in hell now for what he did. That would enrage us, and we began defending Brad's faith. And because of our zeal for knowing his salvation, they would desist.
6 weeks later, on October 26^th, the day before Brad’s birthday, I got another call from mom about Tracee. Tracee could not take it anymore. Tracee had rented a motel room, wrote  letters explaining herself and her wishes, and shot herself with a gun, just like Brad’s. She wanted to be cremated and buried with Brad. I can only imagine her agony. Her agony of what her last words were to him? Her memories of hearing the gunshot... of seeing his body. Did she have regrets? Did she have guilt? Did she know that she had a family over here that loved her for being Brad's wife? And that we would never blame her? I can't even begin to fully understand her grief. It doesn't make it ok, but it does make you appreciate how fragile one's life is and their burdens that they carry.... some are so heavy.
I remember the family got together again, to honor both Brad and Tracee's life, as we buried Tracee's body along with his. It made us look at each other in a different way. You can never tell from the outside who is carrying the guilt that will eventually kill them, if they don't give it up. Or who needs help with the trama that they harbor in their heads, if they don’t allow themselves to heal.
I will answer the question, "Do people go to heaven if they commit suicide?" It depends........
Were they saved? Did they believe that Jesus is the Son of God? Did they believe that Jesus died for our sins, and resurrect so we could live with Him? If yes, they will go to heaven.
In John 10:27-29, it reads, "My sheep hear My voice; and I know them, and they follow Me; and I give eternal life to them, and they shall never perish; and no one shall snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father's hand."
This is the beauty of once saved... always saved. But can a Christian be suicidal? I believe so. I used to not believe it until Brad because I used to think, surely, if someone has the hope of Jesus, that they will never feel forsaken. Have you ever felt forsaken? Have you ever asked God, "Why me??" "Why did you let this happen to me?" Have you ever wanted to just be done with the world? I believe these too, are questions and thoughts that ran through Brad's mind. I know that I have had times in my own life where I felt God must have turned His back on me. But to feel despair is to turn your back on God. In the Gospels, Jesus talks about the unforgivable sin. Do you know what that is? Never believing that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God. Certain people have said to me that they used to be a christian, but now they don't believe anymore. I'm sorry, one of 2 things are happening. Either they never were a Christian, or they will return to their King some day. Everyone falls short, everyone sins. When Jesus says, "no one shall snatch them out of My hand." I believe that means that once you are saved, there, in His hand, you will remain. Brad's choice was a permanent mistake, he was deceived and oppressed by satan,  but when he accepted Jesus in his life when he was young, his sins were forgiven past, present, and future. Brad is protected by the Blood of Jesus.   Aunt Carmen told me recently that evidence showed that Bradley was on his knees......

Toni's youngest child, her son, was born after Bradley died. She named him Ilias Bradley.

Sarah's 4th Birthday Celebration

 Yesterday, we celebrated Sarah's (would have been) 4th Birthday. I started the day with a headache, but thanks to drugs, the edge was taken off. I was tired, but felt good about the family time we all got in the day before. As I did my daily cleaning, I thought of all the things I needed to get done to make it on time to the party. We were to meet at 4:30 at the "New Altoona Cemetery". After lunch, I had the kids color their cards for Sarah.

 I started baking the cupcakes for everyone at the cemetery. As I was stirring the batter, I thought, 'There should be a little blond hair, blue eyed girl standing with her nose just over the counter surface, waiting with extreme anticipation of when she can lick the battered spoon." Why I make myself go through such things as making cupcakes for her birthday, even though it does sound extremely weird. ..... it's very therapeutic. Doing things for Sarah's memory has always been something I look for. It's hard, I cried,... a lot... but they are for my little girl's friends, and that's worth it. I put a blue candy I made on each cupcake symbolizing her nickname, "blueberry" (because her humangioma made her nose blue)

I got everything ready and as soon as Josh got home from work, we left for the store. We always have the kids get their cards folded up nice and small and put into a helium balloon of their choice in color and let them go when the time comes to "give to Sarah" They always seem to enjoy that part. We also, of course, get another one for them to keep. We ran into some family there and the balloon lady said that a bunch had already come in.

When we all got to the cemetery and we weren't expecting anyone else, we went ahead and sang the traditional, "Happy Birthday to You" song.

After the song was done, everyone let their balloons go. The wind carried some of them into trees, but they let loose instead of Evey's. Third times a charm, it finally went free to go as high as the wind allowed.

After that, we got the delicious cupcakes out and for the first time, we ate there in fellowship..... at the cemetery.. but it wasn't as weird as I thought it would be. The kids ate their cakes and ran around as if this was their playground.

All of them huddled, wrestled, made a human train, and it didn't phase their sweet souls of where they really were. Or is it supposed to be celebrated ground?

And then, of course, there is always at least one kid that starts asking all the questions. Sweet Larinda, (who is one week younger than Sarah) was so curious and confused as to why Sarah wasn't here?Why she had not seen Sarah yet? I delight in the questions, cause what a beautiful door that she opened to allow her parents to explain further the reality of heaven.

 Here's some honest kid pics. :)





 We all left at the same time, going our separate ways to eat dinner. When we got home, my spirit finally dampened. I became very tired, my headache was trying to come back, I was irritable, and my body felt like it weighed a ton. My husband served me in a most special way that night. First, he cleaned the main area of the house.... that always helps any stress on my plate. Then, he put the kids to bed, so I didn't have to get up. I talked with him about how I felt like I was going crazy. So fast I was headed down into this deep depression, and it was effecting everything. My head and body felt so heavy. My breathing was even labored. I was uncontrollably crying, not JUST about Sarah, but about life and it's trials that we've faced thus far. For a moment I felt despair, which is a scary place to be. Not one I'd encourage. When Josh was free, he sat beside me on the couch that I couldn't move from and swooped me into his arms. He said nothing, and just held me like a father holds his child. My tears soaked the chest of his t-shirt. I felt so vulnerable, as if I could've been sliced through with the dullest of knives. I closed my eyes, and finally calmed down. Once again, I felt my Father's arms around me hushing me into a lullaby... I fell asleep. We both woke an hour or so later, to go to bed, and we both woke in the morning feeling refreshed. After all, it was only 8:30pm when we fell asleep. (crazy)
I do feel better this morning, a little exhausted from all the emotions, but rested. It's amazing that it's been 4 years since I've first held her in my arms.

I love you Sarah.