Free Agency

Dear Life,

When you think of free agency, what comes to mind?
As a Latter Day Saint, we have been taught this principle:

Agency, or the ability to choose, is one of God’s greatest gifts to His children.
Our eternal progression depends on how we use this gift. 
We must choose whether to follow Jesus Christ or follow Satan.

We teach our children right from wrong daily. 
Always tell the truth, don't steal, be kind, don't pull your sister's hair, etc. 
Our children learn there are consequences if they do not make good choices. 
Don't do your homework, you will get a bad grade and probably lose screen time. 
Give mom sass when asked to do something and you will probably gain extra chores. 

But we don't always teach our kids how to deal with the after effects of someone else's bad choice if it affects them directly. 
If someone drives under the influence and crashes into you, you have to deal with that, but it can make you angry. 
It wasn't your choice that put you there. 

I have been thinking a lot about my son, and the suffering he has faced for years because of the choices of another. 
How do we deal with this?
How do I teach him forgiveness, to move forward, when I am angry?
I mean I'm really angry. 
This person robbed my son of 4  years of his life. 
My boy's life will be altered forever. 
All because of someone else's agency. 

Then I think about God. 
He gave us the gift of agency. 
He probably wishes he could tap us on the shoulder when we are about to do something wrong and say " are you sure you want to do that?"
He loves us, and wants us to be happy. 
So why do bad things happen. 
Why does my son have to suffer. 
All I can think of is what I have been taught. 
As we teach our family the principles of the gospel, we can fall back on them to deal with difficult challenges. 
We can pray, often, read the words written in the scriptures, we can read talks from our leaders, we can forgive. 
We can love each other. 
And we can fight battles together. 

I wish my son never walked home that day long ago. 
I wish he would have been receptive to getting help earlier. 
All we can do now is be there for him, and rely on our God, and find comfort in His loving arms. 
We can learn to forgive, so that our son can forgive. 
We can take this awful experience and grow, get stronger, and become more refined. 


As victims, if we are faithful, we can take great comfort in knowing that God will compensate us for every injustice we experience. Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin stated: “The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. … Every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude.”

(The Healing Ointment of Forgiveness
By Elder Kevin R. Duncan
Of the Seventy
April 2016 Conference)

What would I say

Dear Life,

What would I say to the person that destroyed who my son used to be with one small act of violence?
Did you think about what you were doing that day 4 1/2 years ago?
How did you choose my son?
Why?
As you live your life, possibly still hurting others, my son still daily faces trauma because of you.
You are the reason he feels worthless.
You are the reason he feels like he is undeserving.
You are the reason 4 years of his life are gone. 
You are the reason he struggles every day to go to school,
To play basketball, to do anything every other kid can just do. 
You are the reason he doesn't believe in himself. 
  
I hate you. 

What would I say to my son?
You are a warrior. 
You are fighting a battle that seems unwinnable. 
Every day you conquer it a little more. 
You may think that you will never get better. 
To that I say look at you a year ago. 
Two years ago. 
You are struggling right now but you will get through it. 
Although I wish I could make it all go away, I can't. 
Instead I will stand by you, hold your hand, lift you up, wipe your tears. 
You are so much better than that person that hurt you. 
Your life matters. 
You are worth the battle. 

I love you. 

In one year...miracles have happened

Dear Life,

The emotions from last year to this year have changed drastically. 

Last year, our home was covered in a big dark cloud.

Kalani had been struggling for three years, as he was dealing with serious after affects from something he went through in seventh grade.  

He was unable to attend school for three years.

He became increasingly anxious, depressed, and unable to do daily things.

The most heartbreaking thing to watch was his inability to walk on the basketball court.  

His freshman year should have been exciting, his first year of high school basketball should have been fun.

We watched him deteriorate right before our eyes.  

Facebook and Instagram became a place of heartache for me.  

I saw everyone's posts of their children starting school, their shiny happy faces, the high school sports starting.

I watched my son doubled in half, not talking, covered in a blanket.

In unbelief, I listened to him tell me he was hearing voices that didn't exist; seeing people that weren't there.

I watched become someone else.

My heart broke in a million pieces as I watched my son become a shell of himself.

We attempted to watch the other freshman boys play basketball.

I cried in the bleachers as he couldn't even talk to them.

I would look at my son's pictures from when he was younger, and I would just wish we could go back to those times of innocence and joy.  

I missed hearing his shoes on the court, watching him play the game he loved.  

I was scared of this dark depression.

I was scared of this presence in our home that I couldn't see but he could actually see and hear.

I was scared I was going to lose him.

Through a whole year of help from his therapist, his coach, and the staff at his school, he climbed out of the darkness.

It didn't come free.  

He struggled, he cried, and he worked.  

He worked hard.  

Sometimes he went forward.  

Sometimes he went backwards.  

His coach reminded me often that it was a marathon, not a race.  

I had to cling to those words often.  

Every step backwards broke my heart again. 

He even told me a few times he wanted to quit basketball.  

I wondered if he would every play again.  

The love of his family and friends, the support from his coaches and teammates, (who have never once judged him, only supported him), the support from the school staff and his therapists brought him through this horrible year.

This month, I have witnessed a miracle.  

Excitement.

Happiness.

And today, Kalani went into school.

NO BIG DEAL.

He's just another sophomore.

Who ran a marathon.

PS:

So grateful that Kawika made the decision to attend the same school as his big brother!

Best Brother Status!

#ItTakesATeam

A Glimpse

Dear Life,

Kalani and I worked together to create a video that shorts a very small amount of what he has felt and been through in the past year.  He wants to be able to show other teens dealing with mental health issues, that their lives are worth getting help.  He is such a huge example to me!  He is not afraid to share his journey in the hopes of helping others.

Last year, Kalani was unable to go to basketball, unable to practice with his team, unable to even watch their games.  He was unable to go to school or leave the house.  He was trapped in fear, and anxiety and depression took a toll.  He gained over 30 pounds in three short meals, he wasn't sleeping and he was not acting like the same kid I was used to.  He was either angry or sad.  Every night he turned into a very angry person who couldn't be around anyone.  He couldn't sleep in his room, he slept in mine.  He started hearing voices, and seeing people that didn't exist.  He thought he was crazy and thought he had to go to the hospital.

As a family, we were determined to help him while he stayed at home.  We got him into a special outpatient program through the county, and he was assigned to a psychiatrist and therapist.  It took many many weeks for Kalani to trust his therapists.  He was given medication to help with the depression, anxiety, and voices he was hearing.  It was a very scary few months, and honestly, we never expected him to play basketball again.  We were so sad that our boy had to fight so hard to just live, and often times the voices told him to quit. He got so tired.

He had a major breakthrough three months ago.  He was able to talk about something that has plagued him for years.  He is still working through this, but he was able to complete a semester of school, a session of summer school, and summer basketball.  We are so proud of him and all of his hard work.  He still has work to do, but he's in a completely different place than he was last year.

He created this short video to show a little of what he has been through. Thank you for everyone who supports our family, for those that have been kind and supportive to our boy, and to those that share his journey in hopes of helping others.  #ItTakesATeam

The Marathon

Tears.

For months on end I cried every single day.  I fell asleep with tears on my face as I prayed and prayed for my son.

I dreaded waking up.

Our family was living a nightmare.

One of our children was living in a nightmare.

He was not sleeping, unable to go to school, even unable to play basketball.

He was paralyzed.

By fear. Anxiety. Depression. Voices. Only he could hear them. But they were horrible.

You're not good enough. You don't deserve anything. Quit. Die. Just STOP.

He withdrew from life.

He wasn't the same.

We didn't know how to get him back.

Dark.

Scary.

Sad.

Lost.

We did the only thing we knew how to do.

Love him.

We loved him every day, even when he pushed us away.

We fought for him, even when he gave up on himself.

And we found a team. A group of people in various positions, a high school coach, a school psychologist, a teacher, a therapist in a county program, and we all loved him.

No one gave up.

Even when he pushed us all away.

It took a full school year to find my boy.

He has some serious work left to do.

He has some deep scars from the battle.

But he also knows that he has people on his side; people he can trust.

People that care.

We smile more now.

We watch him play basketball again.

We see him find success at school.

We give our thanks to a Father in Heaven who heard our cries, and I'm sure He wept when we wept.

And then he helped put these amazing people in place to help him.

To guide him.

To find my boy in the broken shell he had become.

I think back at the last year and I wonder how we survived.

I remember not too long ago I was so weary I just wanted to lay down to sleep and not do it anymore.

But we kept pressing on. I know now that God was lifting us up, pushing us forward, putting angels on earth in place, so that our boy would make it.  

He still has many many things to work on.  But he will be ok.  As the coach says, it's a marathon.  A long, tough, steep marathon.  But a marathon worth running.  We see the light at the end of the tunnel.  And it's oh so very bright.

#ItTakesATeam