Aug 2011 1st Annual Waylon Martensen: Endure the Race 5K

"'Waylon's Team"

Northwest Missouri State University

Track/Cross Country Team

August 4th, 2011

The Race is On!

 

The starting line.

The Kids Run

The First Annual Waylon Martensen 5K

August 4th, 2011

I can truly say, Waylon would be proud.  Honored.  Elated.

What a tribute for "Waylon".

A huge thanks goes out to those who helped make this a big success.

The 2nd Annual Waylon Martensen:  Endure the Race 5K

August 18th, 2012.

Everyday Triggers

Triggers are everywhere.

You see, Waylon wasn't just and an ordinary Kid.

He was "extraordinary".

His coach from NWMSU stated,

"He was a huge part of the team personality-wise,

There are some kids who are so full of fun and just really enjoying every moment,

and he was that kind of kid.

Everybody knew him,

everybody enjoyed him,"

Head Coach Scott Lorek.

I still read that letter.

It was a news release.  I have it in "Waylon's Book".

The part that catches my eye is this.

Head Coach Lorek said, "Martensen had not been traveling with the "Track Team", which is scheduled to compete this weekend.....

because of a shin injury..."

Lorek said, Martensen remained an integral part of the team,

and had begun training for the cross country season this fall." 2010.

I still question...

still look for answers.

Why?

I wish so much Waylon,

you would have been with "your team".

That you would have still traveled with them..

not come home for the weekend..

It was hard to go back to work in Columbia, Mo.

All I saw was you.

To work and after work,

I would see runners..

I would see you.

And cry..

they were everywhere.

Triggers.

Triggers and cues act as reminders of the trauma, and can cause anxiety and other associated emotions....

attribution of meaning, and containment of post-traumatic fear in the wake of death.

A trigger (trauma trigger) is a reminder of a traumatic event, although the trigger itself need not be frightening or traumatic.

Triggers can be quite diverse, appearing in the form of individual people, (friends), places, noises, images, smells, tastes, emotions, animals, films, scenes within films, dates of the year, tones of voice, body positions, time factors and bodily sensations.

They can be subtle and difficult to anticipate, and can sometimes exacerbate post-traumatic stress disorder, a condition in which trauma survivors cannot control the recurrence of emotional or physical symptoms, or of repressed memory.

For me,

the triggers were every where.

The first year,

I saw and felt you

everywhere.

A song, (I would even go out and buy a "Waylon CD", just so I could listen to a song over and over again, that I knew you liked)

  a movie your liked,

a runner,

a pair of "saucony"

running shoes.

The Office,

a Nisson Exterra

"cheesecake",

a friend of yours,

McDonald's drive through,

your clothes,

the smell of your clothes,

(yes, I smelled them, I tried to hang on to that for as long as I could...I knew someday....I would lose that.)

"your room"

the Buckle store,

(your Buckle card with your size and the jeans you liked,

Which I still carry.)

A picture,

a word,

church,

the school...

a Track...

everything....all I had to do was open my eyes in the morning...

and it started...

The green wrist bands we all wear.

The t-shirts...

Somehow, I guess over time....

the triggers are more bearable.

They are still there.

Triggers will always be there.

But now, I almost find myself looking for

"new Waylon triggers".

Like new clues I maybe didn't see before...

new pictures...

new songs I know you would like..

a new movie..

It's always going to be this way..

Because you were just that kind of kid Waylon..

and like your friend David Franz stated,

"You really are everywhere!"

David Franz.  Runner.  Friend. Teammate.

2012.

"He runs with Angels".  Forever imprinted.

Two years gone...

and never forgotten.

Thank you for your continued inspiration,

my friend.

Thank you God,

for those painful triggers...

may they always keep coming at us...

Endure the Race.

Waylon, Missing from the photos, 2012 Graduation.

Wyatt's Graduation

Rex, Cindy, Rachel, Brittany, Wyatt, Rozalyn,

Grandma and Grandpa Martensen

May 2012

Wyatt's Graduation.

California High School

California MO

2012.

I looked for you Waylon.

Just a sign.

Just a hint of you was all I needed..

And then I looked at "us".

You're there..

in our hearts,

on our minds..

our thoughts..

Always.

It is extemely difficult to see a

"family photo",

and not have you "with us".

It is why, I can't change my picture on facebook.

It's the last "one"

of all of us,

together.

Fall 2009

The fall before the "fall".

We are all there, Rex, Cindy, Rachel and her two children, Makenzy and Leyton,

Brittany and, at the time, her boyfriend Brad, (Who married Brittany 12-10-2011),

 Waylon, Wyatt,

and

Rozalyn.

Our "family unit".

Broken.

This spring has been the worst.

I know, you would think the first year was "the worst".

But, we were still in shock.

We were still waiting for Waylon,

"to come back home",

from school.

So this year,

this spring, 2012,

has hurt us all.

More than the first.

The stress and the anxiety at times,

is still unbearable.

We have been numb and disconnected...

detached,

separated...

alive, but not living....

going "through the motions",

As Rex said, "I'm faking it"...

in which he got a response from a friend..

"Fake it till you make it...."

sometimes, I guess that's all you can do.

We are all still hurting, so much.

But the hurt, is different somehow,

and I wish I could explain it.

I think our minds, are somehow,

coming to the realization,

this is it..

He is gone.

He is not coming home to us.

Our hearts, however,

refuse.

It is a deep internal struggle.

You don't want to let go of that

"hope".

That maybe your mind is

wrong.

It's still just a "bad dream",

but, you know, it's not...

and you struggle.

We "somehow made it through,"

year two.

I don't know what the next year will bring,

how we will "make it through".

we still take it a day at a time.

Sometimes, a hour by hour as situations arise,

"triggers"

or,

minute by minute.

I do feel sometimes, that,

our family unit is now,

"too broken".

Does it ever feel "the same" again?

(Interjection here, I have ran into a few women, who have openly shared with me their experience, with the loss of a child.  I am referring to a couple of mothers, now in their 70's and near 80's,

I can still see their pain, fell their hurt and anguish,

see their tears stream down their aged faces and wrinkles, and I know my answer.)

Do you ever take a family "photo"

without crying?

You all stand together,

and the thought you have on your mind is,

"Where's Waylon?"

You almost call out for him...

and then,

you remember...

The "Post" Language change

When I see a picture of Waylon, one like the one above, I think, "how" or "why", a person who is so physically fit and strong,

does not survive...

A young adult, just starting his life...

Just beginning...

I actually started this blog awhile back, but was unable to finish at the time.  When I  work on one of my posts, I want it to be authentic, real, honestly written and I have to be in a quiet place.  No distractions, no noise.......

Language change

There are certain words that I never struggled with, words that I was able to speak so freely and without even a hesitation, that is "pre-accident".  And then, there are words I couldn't even say, couldn't even let in my thought process without breaking down, "post-accident". 

I wanted to share this with you, because, to tell you the truth, I never even thought about it before.  I mean, it had never really crossed my mind.  And, why should it?  I had never experienced such a devastating loss as I did nearly two years ago.

I have been in the nursing field since I was 18.  (Really since I was 16, if you count the year or so that I worked in a nursing home, in the kitchen.  And yes, I saw things that scared me.  Almost scared me out of being a nurse.)  So, frankly speaking, I had witnessed death.  I had seen it first hand.  Over and over.  And I'm not saying it didn't bother me, because it did.  But, when you are a nurse you have to learn to be compassionate but you can not let your compassion for others, consume you, you have to hold it together.  Sometimes, you are in life and death situations, and if you let compassion lead you during a critical moment, instead of your keen nursing skills, you will fall.  Tears have to stay in, emotions during a moment of grief, and awareness of another's suffering and loss have to be held back.

In a way, you are jaded to this, in that moment.  I'm not saying it is a good thing, because as a family member of a loved one, that is dying, medical personnel may seem cold, distant and indifferent to what has occurred during your time of loss.

(Interjection here....when I walked into your hospital room that night Waylon....the first thing after looking quickly at you, was to look at your nurse....I met her eyes....I think I saw some fear...
and I had to quickly release myself from "being a nurse" to "being a mom"....I wanted to help fix you...
I wanted to ask more questions....
It was hard not to pressure them more for answers..
Then, I looked back at you,
I had No control over any of it,
I had to hand it all over....
to the nurse,
to the physician....
to
God.)

I want you to understand this is not what it appears.  I'm speaking for myself and all of my fellow comrades.  We do care, we do have compassion, and that is what makes it so hard.

So, I had pretty much heard all the medical lingo surrounding, "death".

Words like, morgue, mortuary, cemetery, burial, Casket, funeral service, grave, coffin, autopsy, post mortem, death, dead, killed, cremation, rigor mortis, depart, afterlife, Casualty, eternal rest, euthanasia, fatality, Time of death, the clock stopped and so on.......I am sure you are catching on.  These words had meaning, don't get me wrong, but  I would soon come to realize though, that,  after "the accident", these words would become my nightmare, my worst enemy....
they hurt, they stabbed me in the chest,
I would cringe at hearing them........
It was like being tormented, over and over...I hated it...
and it was my job.
I struggled over and over and over,
at work,
watching the news,
in conversation.........
seeing it in writing,  newspaper,
the radio.....
People would ask about....
"where Waylon was"
"his Monument,"
and ...
in general conversation........the words and statements that people would say.....not knowing.....what it meant to me....
I mean, you don't walk around with a sign on you that says....shhhh, "watch what you say
I'm grieving..."
when you go "back to work,"
you run into the general public...
not everybody knows...
sure, they may look at you and think...


"what's with her,"
"why the sad look all day long,"
"don't you ever smile,"
"do you need something for those allergies"
"you need a Pill"
"Wow"...



and all I could do was cringe back at these thoughts...

this is how it is...




At the time of the "accident"....I was employed at a "long term facility".  You may call it a "nursing home".  I enjoyed my position there.  It was a "nicer" facility, and I had involvement with the skilled part of the facility.  But, after the "accident", it all changed, I knew I would have a very difficult time with what I saw and dealt with every day. 

I did try to go back....
and it became very stressful for me....
the anxiety that filled me every day..
I made it as long as I could...
but stress is my enemy..
it robs me
drains me
and kills me a little every day...


It has been a very long and difficult road...
I am now back in a hospital...
Yes....it's hard...
I face the demons head on...

I have had the opportunity to "share Waylon" at work now...

Now, after 2 years....
I can usually say his name, without bursting into tears,

it's hard...
I cry with some of my patients...
some that I "get to bond with"
The ones I can tell that have also
experienced a "hurt"...
And, the ones willing to share with me,
even during their own illness.

It helps...
but it is very difficult...
I have to stay so focused at work

Or I wont make it my 12 hour shift...
(I have been fortunate, to have a group of nurses that
have helped me through some of this..)


If you are reading this..
and you know me...
thanks for sharing your story with me.
It helps...


But with every "bonding" moment I get
I suffer great pain...

I try not to cry...
but
some of my patients cry with me...

and "It helps".


This week.  Has been so painful.

Yesterday, was Waylon's birthday.
June 21st, 1990.
Waylon shares his birthday with his brother,
Wyatt..

Wyatt turned 19.


Happy Birthday to both of
"my boys".

Two of my daughters took me away this week.
We took a little float trip...
walked through downtown shops..
ate a "quaint" little eatery..

I know they were trying to help me.
Take me away from some stress..

But still.
You are always there with me Waylon.
Always,
in my heart,
on my mind....

You are still here,
with all of us.




So, do I have difficulty with words..
yes.
It hurts to say them.
Hurts to hear them.
Hurts to think of them.

I avoid them.
As much as I can.

Maybe, someday.
It will be easier.




This blog may be scattered and almost rambling.
But, that's how my thoughts are right now...
I have not been able to "blog" for awhile..
It takes times....
I want to be as honest  and forthcoming,
with all of this "process",
journey
road to healing..
whatever we call it.
So that maybe it will help others.

God bless the suffering,
the weak,
the sick,
the lost...
Help us God.

Thank you for reading.

Endure the Race.

Psalm 103: 20-21 When God gives you an Angel

Our little Angel

Waylon Michael Martensen
Born

06/21/1990

Bothwell Regional Health Center
Sedalia, MO
9:10 PM, Thursday,
Weight -7 pounds 12 ounces.

Psalm 103: 20-21

Praise the Lord, you his angels, you mighty ones who do his bidding, who obey his word.  Praise the Lord, all his heavenly hosts, you his servants who do his will.



The smell of a new born baby.  You cant wrap it up, bottle it or keep it forever....it lasts awhile, and then eventually goes away....but you never forget the smell...
You never forget the first time you hold your baby
the first time you count their little fingers
and toes
look into their eyes
touch their little nose
rub their little ears
hear their little cry..

You know, how blessed you are to be holding your little
baby, wrapped so tightly in that warm blanket..
You look at your little Angel,
and you vow to love and protect him forever..

2 Thessalonians 2:13

13 But we ought always to thank God for you, brothers loved by the lord, because from the beginning God chose you to be saved through the sanctifying work of the the Spirit, and through belief in the truth.

I think what we never see or truly understand, is the Love God has already endured for us..
the son he sent.
The sacrifice He made...


I know I am going "deep" here....
but you see, I am still trying to make sense of all this...
Even though, in the end, I know that only through my own death will my eyes really be opened...
When I myself go to heaven...

I've heard different things said, or written,
like;

"God gives us our children to raise, until he calls them home."

"We are never guaranteed to have them forever."

 "He only calls the best back home early."

"He gives and takes away."

So, am I supposed to understand it...Is it supposed to make it easier? 

When God gives you an Angel,
He is going to take him back?

Well, eventually, He calls us all back home...
I understand that...

But Waylon, at 19....I don't understand..

Am I mad at God....
for those of you who know me....
you have already heard me answer this question...

NO...
I am not mad at God....
I have never been mad at God....

God didn't do this....
It was the choice of someone else...

I do believe, that everything does happen for a reason....
so, I have to believe, that all of this....
is for a greater reason, even though,  I don't understand.

I do believe that God is in control of all things...
but that as humans, we make choices that have bad consequences.

Waylon's death was because of a "bad choice", that his friend made....

Since "the accident", Rex and I have said, in everything that we do for Waylon, we want to only bring honor to his name..
to keep his memory alive,
to remember him for who he was, and the "pure" life he tried to lead...

So, through my blog, or the Annual 5-K we have,
or the scholarship we have started to give yearly at the school in honor of Waylon, or the t-shirts or green bracelets you see....
it is really all for Waylon,
to keep his memory alive.
So that, he is never forgotten......

Waylon, we love you,
Always.

Waylon truly was an Angel here among us.