On the Side of Giving

I was never an audio book person until my husband died.

I spent hours outside walking, riding bike, running, and hours in the car driving kids to practice, waiting for pickup, killing time before the start of a game.

I found that idle time was best spent walking and listening to something and I’ve burned through many wonderful audio books as a result. There have been some great novels, but most things I listen to tend to be nonfiction, and many are memoirs. I especially like when the author is the reader of their own audio book.

It brought an extra layer of intrigue and enjoyment to listens like:

Green Lights. Spare. I’m Glad My Mom Died. Friends Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing.

I’m currently listening to “Look For Me There” by Luke Russert.

I found it after my recent travels to Scotland and Egypt, but it touches so poignantly on topics I know well. Loss, career change, letting go of expectations, travel, and the beauty of living in the moment right in front of you.

There’s a difficult chapter that deals with the loss of a close friend, Corey C. Griffin, that says:

 “If you’re not giving, you’re taking.” 

That hit me. Struck a chord. 

I’ve had a few thank-you notes from the first scholarships given out in Adam’s name and haven’t been able to bring myself to open them.

I’ve got an inaugural golf tournament coming to benefit a memorial fund in my husband’s name and sometimes all it takes is the enormity of a sentence like that to make my eyes swim with tears and remind me how drastically off course my life has moved. How far from who I was and what I thought I should or would be doing - to today. 

My goals have narrowed to raise strong kids who know they are loved and to give back because if you’re not giving, you’re taking. I’d rather be known as a giver when my day comes.

I’ve struggled with the guilt of needing so much help since Adam died. It is humbling to be in your forties and think life is going well and then to find when your whole world gets leveled in one day, that there are so many people who come alongside you to help you on this difficult path. I need help all the time. I’ve learned to ask for it and accept it even when I don’t want to. I cannot lift things that need to be moved on my own. I cannot get three children to every sporting event that is always scheduled one on top of the other. I need more people. I need more drivers. I need more hands.

It can feel like I take a lot of the time because I need the help.

But creating the Lt. Adam Gustafson Memorial Fund was something I started early because the process was hard. Not necessarily difficult to create a nonprofit, but emotionally heavy at times, because at the end of the day it is still so very hard to believe that I had to create a fund to keep Adam’s memory alive. He should still be here. It is stunning that he has been gone for two full years.

I finally read the thank-yous from students who benefited from our first scholarships and as tears slid down my face, I only thought about how we need to do more next year. I pray Adam’s memorial fund is known for giving and that someday the scales of my life when balanced on what I gave and what I took from this world somehow tip on the side of giving. 

There’s work to do.