How to deal with the sudden death of a sibling: December 2012

I cannot believe I haven't posted in over a year. I go back and read my past entries from time-to-time and none of it seems familiar, like it was written by a total stranger. That just goes to show what type of fog you're put in when you suffer a sudden tragic loss. About a year after Stephen died, I started the job I currently hold and, thinking back, I don't even remember my first year there. That was only 4 years ago. I remember being there, and classrooms I worked in but I don't remember what I did with my time between those classes: whom I spoke to or socialized with, arriving and leaving...all of that is a complete blur. I feel like I was in shock--correction: I know I was in shock. I was in so much pain that God didn't allow me to feel or know what was going on. I was on auto-pilot. God was in complete control. But I know what I do remember: stress, anxiety, worry, uncertainty about the future, and certainty that I would never see my brother again on this earth.

I do remember the blog entry I wrote about casting my cares upon the Lord. When we were awaiting the trial against the drunk driver who took my brother's life, I remember it being such a draining time in my life. I remember obsessing and waiting and court never coming. I knew that I couldn't live with life in the balance like that. I knew whatever was going to happen was in God's hands and there was nothing I could do to control the outcome. I remember praying to God to take that concern and worry from me and immediately, it was gone. I have never before, nor since, felt a prayer be immediately answered. But once was all I needed to prove to me what I had always believed: God is real. God is in control. God wants what is best for us. God wants us to be happy. God did that for me. Little ol' me. And He did it with such a quickness because He knew my heart. He knew it was best and that He had given me all I could handle and all I had to do was cry out to Him and he lifted that weight. He has given my family a new "normal." He has allowed my mother to live every day free from debilitating grief. He has given my father and step-mother the ability to make huge differences in people's lives.

I want to talk about what my dad Mike and step-mom Linda have chosen to do with their grief after losing Stephen. I am so proud of them and all they have done to make people aware of what alcohol and drunk driving does to families and victims. Stephen was a victim of a drunk driver. We had an amazing advocate from Mother's Against Drunk Driving (MADD) named Wendy. She was able to act on behalf of my family in South Carolina, since none of us lived there. She put together a roadside memorial, went with us to court, made us aware that there is a Victims' Bill of Rights (which we had no prior knowledge of), among many other things.

Dad and Linda chose to become Certified Victim Advocates, so that they could help others who had been through the same thing we had. Since 2009, they have gone to court and provided support with victims and families 30 times, participated in 40 DUI Deployments, visited 25 schools, given 4 military presentations, presented at 36 Victim Impact Panels in Glendale, AZ to a mandated audience of about 200 DUI offenders at each presentation. They have also volunteered their time to provide support in other ways, such as Candlelight Vigils, Walk Like MADD events, facilitating support groups, which all totals about 25 different events. In 2010, they traveled to Washington, D.C. for MADD's 30-year anniversary and trained during that time to learn to conduct a program for MADD called "Power of Parents." They also visited Congressional and Senate members from Arizona to push for passage of some laws that would help prevent drunk driving. In 2012, they went to Texas for Advanced Victim Advocate Training. I am so proud of them and all they have done to help make it so people don't go through what we went through.

Here are some pictures of my Dad and Linda in action: In Washington, D.C.