Thanksgiving has come and gone. And I had (and continue to have) so much to be grateful for. I went to Tennesse and spent a wonderful, and wonderfully long, weekend with my family. It was, as always, great to be "home." I think the place where our family resides always holds an aspect of home, regardless of how long we've been gone. I don't know what time and the future holds as far as where I'll live. But TN will always be one of my homes. It was truly a delightful time - seeing all the kiddos, doing a lot of laughing and smiling. Yes, I missed Nate. But I know he's better than fine. That comforts me when, in my frailty, I wish he were still here.
I will admit, now that I'm a few days into December, the month is catching me off-guard. I know what's coming. The first anniversary. I already am thinking of and missing him more than usual. I haven't set up my Christmas tree yet but know I will soon. I don't know if it will be solely blue and silver or if it will incorporate ornaments of the past as well... guess I'll find out as I'm doing it! :)
I'm reminded once again of a couple of things - grief sucks; God is sufficient. There is a line I recently heard, well, *really* heard in a Relient K song. It says, "The beauty of grace is that it makes life not fair." It was a kind reminder of something I've clung to over the past 18 months. I know I've said it before. I don't care. I'll say it again, to remind me and anyone else who needs the reminder - Life's not fair. And I am so glad because I've been given so much more than I deserve. So, as I approach Christmas and the anniversary of Nathan's passing, I'll celebrate life's unfairness. I have a God who cared enough about stupid me that His son became a lowly baby in order to live an innocent life, die a tragic death, and conquer that death so that I have Hope. I got to be married for a long time (though certainly not long enough) to a good man, good provider, good Christian, good friend. And it was all encompassed in one person! I know what it is to be loved. That's a pretty huge and definitely undeserved blessing. And it's one I'll never take for granted. Nor will I ever settle for less. Because I know love is real, it can last, and I am capable, however undeserving, of being loved. And I know how to love. I want to make sure I remember and practice that every day for as long as I live.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Death is strange
It's amazing how death affects us all different ways, at different times, directly or otherwise. Last week, I faced death again in two ways. A woman at work unexpectedly lost her daughter, who was the mother of five, including a one-month-old. Someone close to me dealt with the anniversary of his father's death. Neither of these has anything to do with me, or with Nathan. Yet it affected me. It forced me to think (ugh!) and deal with emotions. For those of you who don't know me, I'm not a huge fan of thinking. Emotions, I'm ok with. But thinking is highly overrated.
I asked a good friend why I keep reacting the way I do when someone at work passes away or copes with a loss in their life. I honestly didn't understand. I mean, I'm a pretty compassionate person. My heart hurts for those who suffer. I empathize. But I don't cry every time I watch the news. And yet, at work, it is so impactful. My friend, who has brilliant insight, pointed out that my own journey with Nate's cancer and subsequent death started at work. She's right. That's where I was when the word "tumor" first came into my life. I didn't realize how work still affects me. Even just being here sometimes. I cannot run away from everything that will ever trigger an emotion - otherwise, I'm avoiding Life, avoiding Healing, avoiding Hope, and surrendering to an unhealthy grief. But I do find it strange that I couldn't pinpoint that. I can handle talking about Nate, telling people about his disease, our life together, our journey through his illness, his death, my life since then. But I think oftentimes we are too close to have insight into our own lives and conditions.
The person coping with the anniversary of his father's death prompted me to ask him questions. And understand my own coping. Yes, I still talk to Nate. Not all the time. Not even every day. But I do. And I won't apologize. (No, he doesn't talk back.) Sometimes I ask him questions, what's he's doing, seeing, experiencing. I'll ask his opinion on what's going on in my life. But I'm left to ponder those questions alone. I'll not get an answer. And that's ok.
That's when I remind myself that I, through God, am enough. I can make decisions. I can deal with consequences. I am strong enough. A lot of that is because I was privileged enough to be married to a smart guy with a good, practical head on his shoulders. Turns out, he rubbed off (a little bit.) :) But I also know he thought I was a smart woman who would be ok. I love that he looked out for and took care of me. I hope someday I again have someone who wants to take on that burden permanently. I hope I get to take on the burden of taking care of someone else. But I'm ok. The best compliment Nate ever paid me (and anyone else probably ever will) was telling me I am a rose with roots of steel. Yeah, I'm ok.
I asked a good friend why I keep reacting the way I do when someone at work passes away or copes with a loss in their life. I honestly didn't understand. I mean, I'm a pretty compassionate person. My heart hurts for those who suffer. I empathize. But I don't cry every time I watch the news. And yet, at work, it is so impactful. My friend, who has brilliant insight, pointed out that my own journey with Nate's cancer and subsequent death started at work. She's right. That's where I was when the word "tumor" first came into my life. I didn't realize how work still affects me. Even just being here sometimes. I cannot run away from everything that will ever trigger an emotion - otherwise, I'm avoiding Life, avoiding Healing, avoiding Hope, and surrendering to an unhealthy grief. But I do find it strange that I couldn't pinpoint that. I can handle talking about Nate, telling people about his disease, our life together, our journey through his illness, his death, my life since then. But I think oftentimes we are too close to have insight into our own lives and conditions.
The person coping with the anniversary of his father's death prompted me to ask him questions. And understand my own coping. Yes, I still talk to Nate. Not all the time. Not even every day. But I do. And I won't apologize. (No, he doesn't talk back.) Sometimes I ask him questions, what's he's doing, seeing, experiencing. I'll ask his opinion on what's going on in my life. But I'm left to ponder those questions alone. I'll not get an answer. And that's ok.
That's when I remind myself that I, through God, am enough. I can make decisions. I can deal with consequences. I am strong enough. A lot of that is because I was privileged enough to be married to a smart guy with a good, practical head on his shoulders. Turns out, he rubbed off (a little bit.) :) But I also know he thought I was a smart woman who would be ok. I love that he looked out for and took care of me. I hope someday I again have someone who wants to take on that burden permanently. I hope I get to take on the burden of taking care of someone else. But I'm ok. The best compliment Nate ever paid me (and anyone else probably ever will) was telling me I am a rose with roots of steel. Yeah, I'm ok.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Cancer
As I am sure you're all aware, October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. Pink is everywhere, as are ribbon-shaped items all in conjunction with bringing this disease to the forefront of consciousness. Some people are offended by this because they feel all cancer should be paid equal heed. I can only speak for me. Personally, I have no objection to there being different months, organizations, fundraisers, etc for various cancers. The truth of the matter is, some cancers are more preventable or controlled by behavioral factors. Some are more common. Some have higher success rates of beating with early detection. Breast cancer is the most frequently found cancer for women, aside from skin cancer. It is also the second-most deadly cancer for women. However, it also currently has an 89% 5-year survival rate. So, why shouldn't early detection be promoted to help rid something that is not preventable, but is detectable and, in many circumstances, treatable?
I support the leukemia-lymphoma society. I'm all for the colo-rectal cancer calendar. But I'm not going to get worked up because our nation has decided to focus for a month on breast cancer when my husband died of cholangiocarcinoma. Yes, I would like his disease to get more attention. Yes, I would like there to be more research and funding poured into it. But it is much more rare, which means that funding would help fewer people. It's diagnosed 2,000 - 3,000 times a year in the U.S., as opposed to over 190,000 expected cases of breast cancer this year. For cholangiocarcinoma that can be operated on, the 5-year survival rate is 20-40%. Unfortunately, the majority of diagnoses occur beyond the point of surgery being possible. Without surgery, the rate is less than 10%. If the two cancers must be compared, I'm all for saving lives through awareness and early detection. I would love for there to have been something that could have saved Nathan's life. But that was not to be. I refuse to become bitter or angry because his cancer didn't get enough attention. And, knowing Nate, he would not have wished someone else had to suffer or die so he could live. He didn't bring this disease upon himself. But he bore his final burden as a warrior.
I support the leukemia-lymphoma society. I'm all for the colo-rectal cancer calendar. But I'm not going to get worked up because our nation has decided to focus for a month on breast cancer when my husband died of cholangiocarcinoma. Yes, I would like his disease to get more attention. Yes, I would like there to be more research and funding poured into it. But it is much more rare, which means that funding would help fewer people. It's diagnosed 2,000 - 3,000 times a year in the U.S., as opposed to over 190,000 expected cases of breast cancer this year. For cholangiocarcinoma that can be operated on, the 5-year survival rate is 20-40%. Unfortunately, the majority of diagnoses occur beyond the point of surgery being possible. Without surgery, the rate is less than 10%. If the two cancers must be compared, I'm all for saving lives through awareness and early detection. I would love for there to have been something that could have saved Nathan's life. But that was not to be. I refuse to become bitter or angry because his cancer didn't get enough attention. And, knowing Nate, he would not have wished someone else had to suffer or die so he could live. He didn't bring this disease upon himself. But he bore his final burden as a warrior.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Amazing Grace
October 1, 2009
A lot has happened since my last entry. The first thing that comes to mind is September 20th. This was the first month that the 20th came and went without notice or recognition that it was the date of the month on which Nathan slipped away. I realized it the morning of the 21st. For a split second, I had guilt. I know beyond doubt that was an attack from the enemy. But it was rapidly replaced with the Lord’s peace and relief. He reminded me I am not shackled to guilt nor is my identity in death. Rather, it is a sign I am moving forward. The most striking thing about this was the recollection of a conversation I had with another widow about six months before in which I distinctly remember asking “Will I ever see the 20th of a month without pain and sorrow?” She assured time and Christ would create a salve on that wound, providing it comfort and taking away death’s sting. I had a hard time believing her at the time. She was right, I am thrilled to report.
I have come to another realization that I’m not thrilled with myself about. This is strictly self-study and criticism. This is not to be taken as me critiquing anyone else. That’s not my place. I am the last to judge anyone. I have realized that as a Christian, it is extremely easy for me to become complacent and lazy in my pursuit of Christ and of holiness. I rely too heavily on what I already know and believe to seek and to question. I am so grateful beyond description for my salvation. But I have become very lackadaisical and unenthusiastic in pursuing a deeper knowledge and closer relationship with an Almighty God and Perfect Father. This realization has come very slowly (as previously mentioned, I’m a little slow on the uptake.) I have had amazing conversations with someone who was raised very differently from me and who is getting to know who God is and what He is about so as to make a decision regarding faith and belief. This person has my utmost respect in his questions and pursuit of knowledge. Whereas I have “always” believed, he is searching with an adult heart. I am beginning to understand better the phrase “faith of a child.” I believe it is easier to trust in and believe in God when one is not jaded by experience and time. However, God can capture hearts at any time in life if hearts are open.But I digress. This person recently made a very astute observation. We were discussing the opening lyrics to the hymn “Amazing Grace.” “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.” We got to that part and he turned to me and said, “That’s what I am – a wretch.” How he has such a deep understanding of the frail human condition is remarkably astute. I sometimes forget I’m just a wretch. But the conversation progressed and I told him, “we are all wretches. That’s how God finds us all. But it’s not how He leaves us. We’re all wretches, some of us are just forgiven and washed in the blood.”Tonight, this conversation came back with resonance and penetrated my heart deeper. God took his words and mine and is mining me deeper with them. We are wretched. Nothing we can ever do will change that fact. But God does not feed us a bowlful and turn away, leaving us dirty and hungry, asking, “Please sir. Can I have some more?” like Oliver. No. God looks at the dirty wretch, the Oliver, the prodigal child and scoops us in His arms. Dirty, smelly, gross, grimy. But the cool thing is that God hasn’t waited just for our outstretched arms. He pursues us. He scans the horizon, screaming our name, begging and calling us to come home and be forgiven. He runs to meet the wretch. He puts nice clothes on icky bodies. He puts rings on dingy hands and kisses filthy cheeks and heads. Just like a Daddy. He brings us into to the best chair, warms us by the fire, cleans us with warm soapy water to wash away the stench and make us feel as treasured as we are. He cleans us, not for His sake but for our own. He holds us close as we sink into His deep chest wrapped tightly in His arms. He feeds us warm food and gives us deep blankets on a soft bed to rest. He makes Oliver the prince. He makes the wretch an heir. His love is not conditional. His love comes first. Our response to His love should be obedience. My response to His love and grace and compassion and mercy should be an unbridled pursuit to know Him better. As God opens my eyes and heart through conversations and musings of one who does not know Him, I am convicted to seek and know Him more. As this person recently reminded me when he found this passage in Matthew he liked, it is the sick that need the doctor, not the well. I pray God continues to remind me that I’m still sick, just healed by continual doses of Godly medicine.
A lot has happened since my last entry. The first thing that comes to mind is September 20th. This was the first month that the 20th came and went without notice or recognition that it was the date of the month on which Nathan slipped away. I realized it the morning of the 21st. For a split second, I had guilt. I know beyond doubt that was an attack from the enemy. But it was rapidly replaced with the Lord’s peace and relief. He reminded me I am not shackled to guilt nor is my identity in death. Rather, it is a sign I am moving forward. The most striking thing about this was the recollection of a conversation I had with another widow about six months before in which I distinctly remember asking “Will I ever see the 20th of a month without pain and sorrow?” She assured time and Christ would create a salve on that wound, providing it comfort and taking away death’s sting. I had a hard time believing her at the time. She was right, I am thrilled to report.
I have come to another realization that I’m not thrilled with myself about. This is strictly self-study and criticism. This is not to be taken as me critiquing anyone else. That’s not my place. I am the last to judge anyone. I have realized that as a Christian, it is extremely easy for me to become complacent and lazy in my pursuit of Christ and of holiness. I rely too heavily on what I already know and believe to seek and to question. I am so grateful beyond description for my salvation. But I have become very lackadaisical and unenthusiastic in pursuing a deeper knowledge and closer relationship with an Almighty God and Perfect Father. This realization has come very slowly (as previously mentioned, I’m a little slow on the uptake.) I have had amazing conversations with someone who was raised very differently from me and who is getting to know who God is and what He is about so as to make a decision regarding faith and belief. This person has my utmost respect in his questions and pursuit of knowledge. Whereas I have “always” believed, he is searching with an adult heart. I am beginning to understand better the phrase “faith of a child.” I believe it is easier to trust in and believe in God when one is not jaded by experience and time. However, God can capture hearts at any time in life if hearts are open.But I digress. This person recently made a very astute observation. We were discussing the opening lyrics to the hymn “Amazing Grace.” “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.” We got to that part and he turned to me and said, “That’s what I am – a wretch.” How he has such a deep understanding of the frail human condition is remarkably astute. I sometimes forget I’m just a wretch. But the conversation progressed and I told him, “we are all wretches. That’s how God finds us all. But it’s not how He leaves us. We’re all wretches, some of us are just forgiven and washed in the blood.”Tonight, this conversation came back with resonance and penetrated my heart deeper. God took his words and mine and is mining me deeper with them. We are wretched. Nothing we can ever do will change that fact. But God does not feed us a bowlful and turn away, leaving us dirty and hungry, asking, “Please sir. Can I have some more?” like Oliver. No. God looks at the dirty wretch, the Oliver, the prodigal child and scoops us in His arms. Dirty, smelly, gross, grimy. But the cool thing is that God hasn’t waited just for our outstretched arms. He pursues us. He scans the horizon, screaming our name, begging and calling us to come home and be forgiven. He runs to meet the wretch. He puts nice clothes on icky bodies. He puts rings on dingy hands and kisses filthy cheeks and heads. Just like a Daddy. He brings us into to the best chair, warms us by the fire, cleans us with warm soapy water to wash away the stench and make us feel as treasured as we are. He cleans us, not for His sake but for our own. He holds us close as we sink into His deep chest wrapped tightly in His arms. He feeds us warm food and gives us deep blankets on a soft bed to rest. He makes Oliver the prince. He makes the wretch an heir. His love is not conditional. His love comes first. Our response to His love should be obedience. My response to His love and grace and compassion and mercy should be an unbridled pursuit to know Him better. As God opens my eyes and heart through conversations and musings of one who does not know Him, I am convicted to seek and know Him more. As this person recently reminded me when he found this passage in Matthew he liked, it is the sick that need the doctor, not the well. I pray God continues to remind me that I’m still sick, just healed by continual doses of Godly medicine.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Two postings...
Tuesday August 11, 2009. So, the first of the firsts has come and gone. Guess what? I survived it too. God is still God and Life is still good. Saturday was a challenging day. But not horrible. Friday I kept thinking of what I would be doing if the turn of events hadn’t changed the way they had. Prepping dinner, planning to take him out, figuring out what movie to see, etc. None of those happened. I had some quiet, reflective moments Saturday. I even teared up a time or two. But the day was, overall, fine. The tears didn’t fall until Sunday. I was getting ready for my trip (I’m writing this entry at 30,000 feet.) I was emptying the memory card from my camera onto the computer and going through old photos. Needless to say, many were of Nate. I was struck by something - a conversation I had with my mother a couple of days before. Some friends were over at mom & dad’s for dinner Friday night and they noticed the photos in the hall. They were particularly struck by the photo of Nathan & me. I think because of how happy we look and the genuine spark and twinkle of life in Nate’s eyes and smile. Mom told them the picture was taken a mere 6 weeks before we learned of his illness, diagnosis, and prognosis. During my conversation with mom, we came to the conclusion of what a blessing the timing was because of the light in his eyes. We somehow doubted it would have been there if he knew he would die soon. I seriously doubt the genuine peace and happiness on my own countenance would have remained. Anywho, I was looking through the photos on my memory card. The pictures of Nate were post-illness. The tears poured as I saw his sweet face, smile, and yes – the same genuine spark of life and joy and peace and contentment was there in his eyes. Just like always. I called Mom to tell her she was wrong. There were pictures of him still playing with his nephews and being silly. And then, my heart just broke. The youngest of the nephews, who was barely more than a year when they came to visit us in Kansas City, was sitting on Uncle Nate’s lap, just grinning as big a smile as he could. The smile on those two faces, and knowing that my nephew won’t have memories to cling to of his uncle just wrecked me.
I’m getting very excited about my trip to the beach. This is the first time I’ll have been to the ocean in about five years. Waaayyyyy too long for my taste. I’m looking forward to the company as well. I don’t believe I’ve ever been on vacation with just my mother (at least, not as an adult.) I think our time together will be amazing, since she is one of my dearest friends. But I know there will be challenging moments as well. As silly as it may sound, I’m still not used to flying or going on trips alone. I usually look for a seat in between two people or at least, by one. I rarely go for the open row. (I know someone will sit next to me eventually anyway; at least this way I get to kind of pick.) I know I will be very aware of not being at Nathan’s side, sitting on the beach. But I keep reminding myself that God will still be at my side, as He always has been and always will be. Empty chairs are never truly empty. And, in some way, yes – I’m bringing Nate to the beach too.
August 26,2009. He time at the beach with my mother was wonderful. It was such a blessing. We spent a lot of time in the water, a lot of time lying happily on the beach. We spent time in the pool, taking relaxing naps, going to the movies, and of course shopping! It wasn’t the activities that made the trip wonderful, though. It was the company and the respite I personally have always found at the ocean. One night we were walking along the beach after dinner. The waves were creeping up higher on the shore, erasing the footprints, bird tracks, sand castles, and holes from the day. I just stood there and watched as the sand turned into a pristine canvas for the next day’s activities. Truly a blank slate. Then a very comforting phrase came to mind, “His mercies are new every morning.” That phrase has never come so alive and been so real and glaringly obvious to me as it was at that moment. That’s how God’s love and mercy is. It erases the mess of the day, making it new and clean and perfect again. I will never understand why I continue to fall short, why I continue to make a mess of my life, and why I have a Father who forgives me anew every day, without fail, no matter how big of a mess I make. But I know He does. Everytime. As far as the east is from the west. With an ocean in the middle.
My birthday was a challenge, but God’s grace was there. It wasn’t easy. But I never have to have another “first” birthday again. There was definitely sorrow. There was also joy. This trip was the right thing at the right time with the right company.
I’m getting very excited about my trip to the beach. This is the first time I’ll have been to the ocean in about five years. Waaayyyyy too long for my taste. I’m looking forward to the company as well. I don’t believe I’ve ever been on vacation with just my mother (at least, not as an adult.) I think our time together will be amazing, since she is one of my dearest friends. But I know there will be challenging moments as well. As silly as it may sound, I’m still not used to flying or going on trips alone. I usually look for a seat in between two people or at least, by one. I rarely go for the open row. (I know someone will sit next to me eventually anyway; at least this way I get to kind of pick.) I know I will be very aware of not being at Nathan’s side, sitting on the beach. But I keep reminding myself that God will still be at my side, as He always has been and always will be. Empty chairs are never truly empty. And, in some way, yes – I’m bringing Nate to the beach too.
August 26,2009. He time at the beach with my mother was wonderful. It was such a blessing. We spent a lot of time in the water, a lot of time lying happily on the beach. We spent time in the pool, taking relaxing naps, going to the movies, and of course shopping! It wasn’t the activities that made the trip wonderful, though. It was the company and the respite I personally have always found at the ocean. One night we were walking along the beach after dinner. The waves were creeping up higher on the shore, erasing the footprints, bird tracks, sand castles, and holes from the day. I just stood there and watched as the sand turned into a pristine canvas for the next day’s activities. Truly a blank slate. Then a very comforting phrase came to mind, “His mercies are new every morning.” That phrase has never come so alive and been so real and glaringly obvious to me as it was at that moment. That’s how God’s love and mercy is. It erases the mess of the day, making it new and clean and perfect again. I will never understand why I continue to fall short, why I continue to make a mess of my life, and why I have a Father who forgives me anew every day, without fail, no matter how big of a mess I make. But I know He does. Everytime. As far as the east is from the west. With an ocean in the middle.
My birthday was a challenge, but God’s grace was there. It wasn’t easy. But I never have to have another “first” birthday again. There was definitely sorrow. There was also joy. This trip was the right thing at the right time with the right company.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Two Firsts in Eight Days
I don't even know how to say the phrase. Tomorrow "is" Nathan's birthday. "would be" his birthday. "would have been"... I don't know what the right terminology is. Anyways, August 8th is the day Nathan was born. I don't know what I'll do nor do I know how I'll feel. I know it will be difficult. I know it won't feel normal or even right. I'm trying to find positives in it though. After all, God shared Nathan with this world for 35 years. That's pretty cool. I'm focusing on the adventures Nate has in his new life and knowing I don't have to worry about him anymore, with his suffering from cancer or just get older in general. I know he's fine. I know he's happy. But man, is tomorrow gonna suck!
The second "first" I'll face over the next eight days will be my birthday. My first without Nate. My first since the diagnosis. And my last birthday? Not great. That was the day everything started to tank. That was the beginning of my world being upended. It was supposed to be a milestone. It was, but not as we planned. So, I'm not sure what to think of it. I don't feel like I'm about to be 31. I don't feel like I ever turned 30. (Heck, I still act like I'm 12 but that's another issue.) According to the calendar, 31 is almost here, though. I've always loved birthdays & looked forward to them. I'm not sure what to think of this one. I want to be excited. But part of me is dreading it and part of me is despising it. Only time will tell.
But God still has beautiful things planned for my life (thanks for the reminder, Bryce!)
So, I'm heading to the beach next week with my mother. I've been yearning for the sun, the salty air, and the calm that comes with the constancy of the pounding of waves. It's been five years since I've been to an ocean. I thought the week between Nathan's birthday and my own would be the perfect time to seek solace and respite. That, I AM looking forward to. Couldn't ask for a better companion. My plan is to sit on the beach and just BREATHE.
The second "first" I'll face over the next eight days will be my birthday. My first without Nate. My first since the diagnosis. And my last birthday? Not great. That was the day everything started to tank. That was the beginning of my world being upended. It was supposed to be a milestone. It was, but not as we planned. So, I'm not sure what to think of it. I don't feel like I'm about to be 31. I don't feel like I ever turned 30. (Heck, I still act like I'm 12 but that's another issue.) According to the calendar, 31 is almost here, though. I've always loved birthdays & looked forward to them. I'm not sure what to think of this one. I want to be excited. But part of me is dreading it and part of me is despising it. Only time will tell.
But God still has beautiful things planned for my life (thanks for the reminder, Bryce!)
So, I'm heading to the beach next week with my mother. I've been yearning for the sun, the salty air, and the calm that comes with the constancy of the pounding of waves. It's been five years since I've been to an ocean. I thought the week between Nathan's birthday and my own would be the perfect time to seek solace and respite. That, I AM looking forward to. Couldn't ask for a better companion. My plan is to sit on the beach and just BREATHE.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Blog Title Source
For those of you that may not have followed the original caring bridge site, I decided to post a snippet of the journal entry that led to the "dontsavetheperfume" title for this blog full of ramblings. This is an excerpt from an entry originally written in mid-November.
I feel compelled to share a couple of things I've been thinking about lately. Just some realizations I've had that I wish I'd had years ago. Anywho... (1) Don't save perfume / cologne for a special occasion or social funtion filled with people I don't actually care about and won't see again. Rather, realize that every day with a loved one is special and worthy of perfume. After all, he's the one I want to impress. (2) Don't dress up for work and look like a slob on the weekends. Not to say I don't still stay in PJs for a while Saturday morning. But as I have the opportunity to wear jeans and T-shirts more often, I find myself wanting to wear some of Nathan's favorite things he enjoys seeing me in, whether dressy or casual.
It seems trite, but I want to continue to give Nate, as John Eldridge says, a beauty to pursue. I know Nathan loves me unconditionally. I know he loves my heart, my soul, my personality, and thinks I'm beautiful inside and out. I know he feels loved by and cared for by me. But I want to walk into a room and have him think I'm pretty in that outfit. Or that I smell nice when we hug or I sit down next to him. These are trivial things I've neglected worrying about in the last several years. After all, we're married, we're not going anywhere, etc. But why should I stop trying to be worthy of the pursuit, just because he's caught me? :)
I feel compelled to share a couple of things I've been thinking about lately. Just some realizations I've had that I wish I'd had years ago. Anywho... (1) Don't save perfume / cologne for a special occasion or social funtion filled with people I don't actually care about and won't see again. Rather, realize that every day with a loved one is special and worthy of perfume. After all, he's the one I want to impress. (2) Don't dress up for work and look like a slob on the weekends. Not to say I don't still stay in PJs for a while Saturday morning. But as I have the opportunity to wear jeans and T-shirts more often, I find myself wanting to wear some of Nathan's favorite things he enjoys seeing me in, whether dressy or casual.
It seems trite, but I want to continue to give Nate, as John Eldridge says, a beauty to pursue. I know Nathan loves me unconditionally. I know he loves my heart, my soul, my personality, and thinks I'm beautiful inside and out. I know he feels loved by and cared for by me. But I want to walk into a room and have him think I'm pretty in that outfit. Or that I smell nice when we hug or I sit down next to him. These are trivial things I've neglected worrying about in the last several years. After all, we're married, we're not going anywhere, etc. But why should I stop trying to be worthy of the pursuit, just because he's caught me? :)
Sunday, July 26, 2009
July 20, 2009
Thank you for all the expressions of concern based on my last entry. I have had no whiplash, just minor things like headaches. Here it is the 20th of the month again. I must admit, I’m anxious to know if I’ll encounter the 20th of a month again without thinking of Nathan’s passing. I know I’ll certainly never not think of him on December 20th. And it’s not as though I’m consciously looking at the calendar with anticipation of the next 20th. At the same time, it doesn’t sneak up on me. I just wonder how down the road looks. A month or two ago, though, God gave me a paradigm shift. Birthdays and anniversaries typically connote happy occasions. I no longer think of the 20th of the month as the day of a death. Rather, today, I whispered, “Happy 7-month birthday, Nate.” After all, he was reborn, right? So I have started wishing him a happy new birthday. It may seem silly. That’s ok with me. It makes it easier to bear. It takes the sting out of the 20th of the month, though certainly doesn’t reduce the impact or pain.
I asked my mother, who lost her mom many years ago if dates like this get less noticeable in time. I mean, will I start looking at things in longer spans, like years, instead of simply months? I suppose I will. I started off evaluating hours since his passing. That eventually drifted into days, then weeks. It’s only been seven months. I still find it hard to believe. So quick, yet so long. It’s funny how time acts like that. One event, one moment can feel simultaneously as if it occurred only yesterday and like a lifetime ago. Maybe that’s how a day to God is like a thousand years. Maybe that’s a little glimpse into His sense of time. Singular moments that are wildly opposite in character and sensation.
I spoke to a friend today. I told him that sometimes, I get a little envious (not in a wishing-my-life-away kind of way) of Nate in heaven. My friend made a statement I never thought of before and that I’ll never forget. “It could have just as easily been you. But God has something beautiful for you here on this side of heaven.” I’ve known God still has purpose for me. And I’ve known He has not and will not abandon me. I’ve known there is still joy in this life. But I never thought about my future in the terms he spoke today. I never contemplated that I could have left Nate here. I don’t know why God’s plan is unfolding the way it is or why Nathan’s time on this side didn’t last longer. But yes, God has something beautiful here. God wanted Nathan at His side sooner rather than later. But this side of heaven is beautiful and was initially meant to be paradise. God does still have something beautiful in His plan on this side, even in store for little old me.
I asked my mother, who lost her mom many years ago if dates like this get less noticeable in time. I mean, will I start looking at things in longer spans, like years, instead of simply months? I suppose I will. I started off evaluating hours since his passing. That eventually drifted into days, then weeks. It’s only been seven months. I still find it hard to believe. So quick, yet so long. It’s funny how time acts like that. One event, one moment can feel simultaneously as if it occurred only yesterday and like a lifetime ago. Maybe that’s how a day to God is like a thousand years. Maybe that’s a little glimpse into His sense of time. Singular moments that are wildly opposite in character and sensation.
I spoke to a friend today. I told him that sometimes, I get a little envious (not in a wishing-my-life-away kind of way) of Nate in heaven. My friend made a statement I never thought of before and that I’ll never forget. “It could have just as easily been you. But God has something beautiful for you here on this side of heaven.” I’ve known God still has purpose for me. And I’ve known He has not and will not abandon me. I’ve known there is still joy in this life. But I never thought about my future in the terms he spoke today. I never contemplated that I could have left Nate here. I don’t know why God’s plan is unfolding the way it is or why Nathan’s time on this side didn’t last longer. But yes, God has something beautiful here. God wanted Nathan at His side sooner rather than later. But this side of heaven is beautiful and was initially meant to be paradise. God does still have something beautiful in His plan on this side, even in store for little old me.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
An adventure I could have done without - but God still used.
July 16, 2009. Life certainly has a way of keeping me on my toes. Driving home last night (the 15th) at almost ten o'clock, I came upon some road construction. It was a surprise to come to a complete stop from driving the posted interstate speed, but I had plenty of room in front of me. As I was sitting stopped on the highway, the following thought ran through my silly little head – “Boy, if someone wasn’t paying attention, this could be bad.” Yep, you guessed it. About thirty seconds after that silly little thought, I heard a very loud crash; two seconds later, I heard a second crash. The second crash was accompanied by the jarring sensation of my car being slammed into. I collected myself quickly and once I realized I was physically ok, I got out to check on the other people in the other two cars.
After consulting with the driver of the second car, I returned to mine to get my cell phone and call emergency personnel. By the time I turned back around, the first car, the instigator of the wreck was gone. But he/she was kind enough to leave their front bumper on the road – complete with license plate We’ll see if anything comes of that. Long story short, (too late!) the tow truck driver drove me home, my car is in the shop & will likely take a week to get fixed, the claim is filed with my insurance company, I have a rental car, and I’m hoping they find the person who started this lovely chain of events so my insurance isn’t liable.
So, that’s the “what happened.” Here’s the “how I reacted / felt.” My first thought was, of course, “this sucks!” (pardon my thought-language.) I couldn’t believe how alone I felt. Who was I going to call? How do I get to work tomorrow? How do I get home tonight? How do I deal with all this? Who’s responsible for this? In that first moment, I felt completely by myself. I knew I wasn’t and I was quickly reminded (thanks, God!) I called two people here in Kansas City that are very dear in my life. Then I called my folks to give them a quick FYI with assurance I was fine and would call with details later. I hated that the car Nathan got me as a way of taking care of me after he passed, got wrecked. That broke my heart. Then one of my dear friends reminded me that the car *did* take care of me. I was safe; the car did what it was supposed to. It didn’t crumble like ash. It didn’t explode or disintegrate or act like a house of cards. I was protected and safe.
I was reassured by the presence of the very kind emergency personnel, tow drivers, and roadside assistants. Then God used it. He didn’t “show up” since He was there first. But He started moving in a way I could feel and understand. He started showing me the “why.” I got the opportunity to witness to the tow truck driver on the way to my house.
The tow driver asked typical questions which somehow lead to Nathan, his battle with cancer, death, and my subsequent journey. This man’s aunt, who is devoutly religious, was recently diagnosed with cancer. This, coupled with the recent death of his good friend and other circumstances of his past, have lead him to question the realness and validity of God. (It wasn’t a very long drive, but he was extremely open.) God just used the conversation so powerfully. I don’t know what this man’s faith ever was or is. But I’m prayerful God will use last night’s accident to touch the heart of this tow truck driver.
Last night, sleep was not easy in coming. Too much “fight-or-flight” in the bloodstream. Very little pain last night. But, the soreness is creeping upon me, the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion are on me full force. I will sleep like a champ tonight. God will continue to watch over me. As Mom and Dad were praying with me last night on the phone, Dad reminded me God sees us through. I remarked, “I know. But I’m starting to get tired of ‘through.’ I’d be ok with boring for a *little* while…”
After consulting with the driver of the second car, I returned to mine to get my cell phone and call emergency personnel. By the time I turned back around, the first car, the instigator of the wreck was gone. But he/she was kind enough to leave their front bumper on the road – complete with license plate We’ll see if anything comes of that. Long story short, (too late!) the tow truck driver drove me home, my car is in the shop & will likely take a week to get fixed, the claim is filed with my insurance company, I have a rental car, and I’m hoping they find the person who started this lovely chain of events so my insurance isn’t liable.
So, that’s the “what happened.” Here’s the “how I reacted / felt.” My first thought was, of course, “this sucks!” (pardon my thought-language.) I couldn’t believe how alone I felt. Who was I going to call? How do I get to work tomorrow? How do I get home tonight? How do I deal with all this? Who’s responsible for this? In that first moment, I felt completely by myself. I knew I wasn’t and I was quickly reminded (thanks, God!) I called two people here in Kansas City that are very dear in my life. Then I called my folks to give them a quick FYI with assurance I was fine and would call with details later. I hated that the car Nathan got me as a way of taking care of me after he passed, got wrecked. That broke my heart. Then one of my dear friends reminded me that the car *did* take care of me. I was safe; the car did what it was supposed to. It didn’t crumble like ash. It didn’t explode or disintegrate or act like a house of cards. I was protected and safe.
I was reassured by the presence of the very kind emergency personnel, tow drivers, and roadside assistants. Then God used it. He didn’t “show up” since He was there first. But He started moving in a way I could feel and understand. He started showing me the “why.” I got the opportunity to witness to the tow truck driver on the way to my house.
The tow driver asked typical questions which somehow lead to Nathan, his battle with cancer, death, and my subsequent journey. This man’s aunt, who is devoutly religious, was recently diagnosed with cancer. This, coupled with the recent death of his good friend and other circumstances of his past, have lead him to question the realness and validity of God. (It wasn’t a very long drive, but he was extremely open.) God just used the conversation so powerfully. I don’t know what this man’s faith ever was or is. But I’m prayerful God will use last night’s accident to touch the heart of this tow truck driver.
Last night, sleep was not easy in coming. Too much “fight-or-flight” in the bloodstream. Very little pain last night. But, the soreness is creeping upon me, the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion are on me full force. I will sleep like a champ tonight. God will continue to watch over me. As Mom and Dad were praying with me last night on the phone, Dad reminded me God sees us through. I remarked, “I know. But I’m starting to get tired of ‘through.’ I’d be ok with boring for a *little* while…”
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Fighting the Fight.
I heard someone speak at one of the Relays recently about “the fight.” This person had fought breast cancer and come out, with God’s strength, a survivor. She told of a relative who lost a similar battle with breast cancer because of fear. Fear of the side effects; fear to fight. The survivor encouraged everyone to never give up, always fight the cancer. It was a hard thing to hear. Please don’t misunderstand, I am all for fighting the battles that exist to fight. I am a huge proponent of early detection and would NEVER encourage anyone to not seek every option. There are some cancers that have tremendous resources available; treatment options are abundant, outcomes are hopeful. The more common cancers that see both survivors and succumbers will absolutely have more funding and research. I will never bemoan that there was not more information or more options for Nathan’s condition, though I would give everything to have him back by my side, happy and healthy.
But with cancer, there is not always a fight to be had. Sometimes, there is not battle to wage. Sometimes, we cannot rage against the dying of the light. However, that does not mean we go gentle into that good night. It means our fight, our battle, looks a bit different. As I mentioned earlier, one night while still at the hospital, after the diagnosis and prognosis, Nathan asked if I thought he was giving up by not trying treatment, not trying to fight. He has always had in him a warrior’s heart. It’s how God shaped and molded him and I love that. For such a man to ask if he is being perceived as surrendering must have heartbroken him. No, I did not think he was giving up. There was just no fight to be had against the cancer. That doesn’t mean he gave up and went gently. He still fought. But his fight was not against that which attacked his body. His fight during his illness was still physical, though. He fought to get well enough to get out of the house. He fought to stay ambulatory and mobile. He fought to stay out of the confines of one room in the house. He fought to stay mentally sharp and acute, which he did. He fought to stay awake. No, he did not rage nor did he go gently. He went as he should – a compassionate man more concerned that as long as there was breath in his body, there was kingdom work to be done. A good man who puts others’ needs ahead of his own. A man that knew God can use the strangest and oddest of circumstances to still affect the hearts of others, even when we aren’t awake. A warrior heart sailing on the seas to the next grand adventure.
I know the woman at the Relay meant only to encourage people. And I heard from other kind, well-intending people immediately after the prognosis tell me “if I were told I was terminal, I would try anything and everything to fight it.” Nathan and I would both have said the exact same thing before our journey through this. But I caution – until you have walked someone’s path (and who of us can do that?) please be careful in absolute statements. There isn’t always a fight against the cancer to be had. A terminal diagnosis is devastating. That doesn’t always mean you can rage against the dying of the light. But not fighting is NOT the same as surrender.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
July 3rd
I apologize for my too-long silence. The second Relay for Life, the one at which I spoke, went very well. It was certainly a difficult thing but extremely worthwhile. I hope to participate in the Relay for years to come, in some capacity or another.
I told my family early on after Nathan’s death that I wanted to come home for the Fourth of July, like normal. But, unlike normal, I did not think I would be ready to do the big family get-togethers, barbeques, fireworks things we typically did. I just thought it would be too hard. I was right. I’ve had a couple of tough weeks lately, what with the six-month anniversary of Nathan’s passing and this holiday coming up. The Fourth last year kind of turned into a marker. The last time we went home. The last time we went anywhere. Merely weeks before our lives were upended. So we have gone to a place in Mentone, AL for some quiet R&R as the immediate family. It’s absolutely what I needed. I’m free here to breathe, read, cry, laugh, reminisce, play with nephews, and even play my first round of (dreadfully terrible) golf.
Tomorrow is our Independence Day. I cannot help but be mutually saddened and excited. I am sad because Nate really enjoyed this holiday. We went back to Tennessee to see my side of the family every year at this time, despite the typically extreme heat and humidity of the South he disliked. He always looked forward to our time in Tennessee. Sad because the last time Nate was in Tennessee was for the Fourth last year. Sad because that’s when the amazing pictures of the family, and us as a couple were taken. Sad because we spent longer here last year for that holiday than we ever had, for reasons unbeknownst to us at the time. Sad because I just miss him so much.
So why in the world am I excited? Because I know that Nathan is experiencing freedom and Independence unlike anything we can know this side of heaven. Because he is walking in freedom with the ultimate Freedom Fighter and Life-giver himself, in what we were always meant to be. And because, if heaven is truly perfect and paradise, I know Nate is shooting the breeze with figures from the military history that he loves. He’s analyzing and strategizing. He’s worshipping side by side with men he’s long admired from ages past. C.S. Lewis and leaders of the first church; generals and privates alike from wars gone by. And he’s also learning in the freedom of heaven his impact and influence he has had on others that have gone before him, come after him, or still remain here on earth. And he’s getting to participate in something more than himself. He himself gets to be the strategist God designed him to be. He gets to be the military man he wasn’t able to be here. He gets to prepare for the Final Battle, The War in the Heavenlies, to be unlike anything seen or imagined here. And the best part? He gets to go to war knowing the outcome in advance – perfect victory, perfect freedom.
So, while I miss him tremendously and have had some rough days as of late, I know without a doubt Nathan is better than fine. He’s where he belongs and was meant to be. God not only still has purpose for him, He has even more purpose for Nate. For a long time, I thought Nathan had just finished the work God had for him here. That’s true. But I am beginning to understand it’s more than that. It’s that God has a whole lot more for him there. I have to be ok with that. And day by day, with the grace of God, I’m learning.
I told my family early on after Nathan’s death that I wanted to come home for the Fourth of July, like normal. But, unlike normal, I did not think I would be ready to do the big family get-togethers, barbeques, fireworks things we typically did. I just thought it would be too hard. I was right. I’ve had a couple of tough weeks lately, what with the six-month anniversary of Nathan’s passing and this holiday coming up. The Fourth last year kind of turned into a marker. The last time we went home. The last time we went anywhere. Merely weeks before our lives were upended. So we have gone to a place in Mentone, AL for some quiet R&R as the immediate family. It’s absolutely what I needed. I’m free here to breathe, read, cry, laugh, reminisce, play with nephews, and even play my first round of (dreadfully terrible) golf.
Tomorrow is our Independence Day. I cannot help but be mutually saddened and excited. I am sad because Nate really enjoyed this holiday. We went back to Tennessee to see my side of the family every year at this time, despite the typically extreme heat and humidity of the South he disliked. He always looked forward to our time in Tennessee. Sad because the last time Nate was in Tennessee was for the Fourth last year. Sad because that’s when the amazing pictures of the family, and us as a couple were taken. Sad because we spent longer here last year for that holiday than we ever had, for reasons unbeknownst to us at the time. Sad because I just miss him so much.
So why in the world am I excited? Because I know that Nathan is experiencing freedom and Independence unlike anything we can know this side of heaven. Because he is walking in freedom with the ultimate Freedom Fighter and Life-giver himself, in what we were always meant to be. And because, if heaven is truly perfect and paradise, I know Nate is shooting the breeze with figures from the military history that he loves. He’s analyzing and strategizing. He’s worshipping side by side with men he’s long admired from ages past. C.S. Lewis and leaders of the first church; generals and privates alike from wars gone by. And he’s also learning in the freedom of heaven his impact and influence he has had on others that have gone before him, come after him, or still remain here on earth. And he’s getting to participate in something more than himself. He himself gets to be the strategist God designed him to be. He gets to be the military man he wasn’t able to be here. He gets to prepare for the Final Battle, The War in the Heavenlies, to be unlike anything seen or imagined here. And the best part? He gets to go to war knowing the outcome in advance – perfect victory, perfect freedom.
So, while I miss him tremendously and have had some rough days as of late, I know without a doubt Nathan is better than fine. He’s where he belongs and was meant to be. God not only still has purpose for him, He has even more purpose for Nate. For a long time, I thought Nathan had just finished the work God had for him here. That’s true. But I am beginning to understand it’s more than that. It’s that God has a whole lot more for him there. I have to be ok with that. And day by day, with the grace of God, I’m learning.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Turnabout's fair play
Ok, I’m going to time-travel a little bit and relay a story from a month ago I keep meaning to tell but keep forgetting to. My fantastic dad had a milestone birthday in May. Seeing as how I have vacation days to take but no one around here to take them with on a regular basis, I thought my family and friends in Tennessee was a pretty good reason to take a day off. (Not bemoaning my circumstances; just explaining.) I have to back up for one moment and tell the best birthday present I ever got.
Nathan & I moved to Kansas City in January of 2001. I was getting homesick for my family by July. My birthday is in August. We found an apartment and everything was fine. Towards the middle or end of July, Nathan said we ought to look into buying a couch. I was fine with that, so we went shopping. He really wanted a sleeper sofa for some reason. That was fine. I didn’t understand, but I didn’t object. We found a couple but they were going to take up to eight weeks to be delivered. I didn’t care, but Nathan said that was too long. Let me interject – I was oblivious. I am kind of dense and don’t put two and two together very well sometimes. So, we finally find a satisfactory, affordable, sleeper-sofa that can be delivered in a timeframe that satisfies Nate. All’s well.
My birthday rolls around and he has bought me a gift certificate for a facial at a spa. I was pretty excited. I go & have my facial. Then I was supposed to go get my driver’s license. (It expired on my birthday.) I called him & asked if he wanted me to swing by and pick him up on my way to the DMV and then we could just leave from there to go to lunch. He said no, just do the DMV then come back. I had no reason to object or suspect anything. So I went to the DMV, got the license, then got back to the apartment. I didn’t see Nathan’s car in the parking lot, so I was a little confused. I open the door and he’s standing in the hall with the camera in his hands ready to take my picture. I was incredibly confused until I looked over to my left and saw my mom & dad standing in our kitchen! He surprised me by having my parents fly in for my birthday. He borrowed a van from some relatives to tote them around. He picked them up from the airport while I was getting my facial. I was given my family as a present. Needless to say, I was speechless. I was so giddy it was ridiculous. After I got over the shock, I suggest we ALL go to lunch. Dad said, “why don’t you open your present first?” I said, “No, I’ll open it when we get back.” He said, “I really think you should open it now.” I agreed. They told me it was in the guest room. I open the door and my brother & sister-in-law are standing there! Now the sleeper-sofa and larger vehicle finally make sense to me. I was given even more family as a present. So, that was the best gift I ever got.
Back to the present (well, May of 2009 at least.) I told Mom a few months ago I’d like to come home for Dad’s birthday. Then we decided to see if we could pull it off as a surprise. I bought my ticket in February and tried to keep my mouth shut. It wasn’t easy and I made a couple of slip-ups. But Dad didn’t notice or pick up on it. (I come by my obliviousness honestly, at least!) J I was trying to think of a way to make it so he wouldn’t have a clue. I suggested Mom take Dad out to breakfast for his birthday and pick me up at the airport afterwards. My flight was scheduled to land around 8:30 so Mom said, “Why don’t we pick you up on the way TO breakfast?” This did make more sense. But there’s no restaurant out by the airport that Mom would take Dad to. So we decided to get even sneakier. We had someone else pick me up and take me to the restaurant Mom would take Dad to – keep him off-guard as long as possible.
Dad tells Mom the Monday of his birthday week that he has a meeting on Friday, his birthday with a couple of guys. We were afraid we would have to spill the beans. But Mom kept her cool and told Dad she wanted to take him to breakfast on his birthday before all the craziness ensued and would he schedule it for mid-morning and at least let her do that. He, of course, agreed. So, the plan was back on. Friday morning rolls around. The plane lands. And I called Dad as I was disembarking to “wish him a happy birthday before he gets too busy throughout the day and what with the party that night and all…” I tell him about the weather we’re having in Kansas City. All the typical stuff. I throw in a little “I hope your present gets there today. I’m really bad at timing the mail. You’ll have to let me know when you get it…” I was feeling very excited and proud of myself. I knew I was going to pull it off!
I get picked up and we arrive at the restaurant. I wander around the dining area, rolling luggage in tow, looking for Mom and Dad. They weren’t there yet. So my ride and I crouch behind some souvenirs and trinkets in the gift shop watching the door. They arrived shortly thereafter. Mom knows we’re here and tells Dad she needs to run to the restroom. Dad offers to go get a table but Mom asks him to wait. Mom leaves. Dad is standing not two feet away looking through stuff. I straighten up, walk around the display corner, and just stand there for a moment. Dad turns and sees me. For a moment, he has the look on his face of “I’m trying to reconcile my worlds. That looks like my daughter but I’m pretty sure I’m in Nashville and I’m pretty sure she’s not here.” His jaw dropped as a huge smile came. I wished him a happy birthday again and gave him a huge hug. It was one of the few times I’ve seen my father rendered speechless. Throughout breakfast, he had this absolutely precious stunned by happy smile. I can relate. I had that same look on my face throughout lunch about 8 years earlier. I got to give my dad his family as a present.
Turnabout’s fair play. :)
Nathan & I moved to Kansas City in January of 2001. I was getting homesick for my family by July. My birthday is in August. We found an apartment and everything was fine. Towards the middle or end of July, Nathan said we ought to look into buying a couch. I was fine with that, so we went shopping. He really wanted a sleeper sofa for some reason. That was fine. I didn’t understand, but I didn’t object. We found a couple but they were going to take up to eight weeks to be delivered. I didn’t care, but Nathan said that was too long. Let me interject – I was oblivious. I am kind of dense and don’t put two and two together very well sometimes. So, we finally find a satisfactory, affordable, sleeper-sofa that can be delivered in a timeframe that satisfies Nate. All’s well.
My birthday rolls around and he has bought me a gift certificate for a facial at a spa. I was pretty excited. I go & have my facial. Then I was supposed to go get my driver’s license. (It expired on my birthday.) I called him & asked if he wanted me to swing by and pick him up on my way to the DMV and then we could just leave from there to go to lunch. He said no, just do the DMV then come back. I had no reason to object or suspect anything. So I went to the DMV, got the license, then got back to the apartment. I didn’t see Nathan’s car in the parking lot, so I was a little confused. I open the door and he’s standing in the hall with the camera in his hands ready to take my picture. I was incredibly confused until I looked over to my left and saw my mom & dad standing in our kitchen! He surprised me by having my parents fly in for my birthday. He borrowed a van from some relatives to tote them around. He picked them up from the airport while I was getting my facial. I was given my family as a present. Needless to say, I was speechless. I was so giddy it was ridiculous. After I got over the shock, I suggest we ALL go to lunch. Dad said, “why don’t you open your present first?” I said, “No, I’ll open it when we get back.” He said, “I really think you should open it now.” I agreed. They told me it was in the guest room. I open the door and my brother & sister-in-law are standing there! Now the sleeper-sofa and larger vehicle finally make sense to me. I was given even more family as a present. So, that was the best gift I ever got.
Back to the present (well, May of 2009 at least.) I told Mom a few months ago I’d like to come home for Dad’s birthday. Then we decided to see if we could pull it off as a surprise. I bought my ticket in February and tried to keep my mouth shut. It wasn’t easy and I made a couple of slip-ups. But Dad didn’t notice or pick up on it. (I come by my obliviousness honestly, at least!) J I was trying to think of a way to make it so he wouldn’t have a clue. I suggested Mom take Dad out to breakfast for his birthday and pick me up at the airport afterwards. My flight was scheduled to land around 8:30 so Mom said, “Why don’t we pick you up on the way TO breakfast?” This did make more sense. But there’s no restaurant out by the airport that Mom would take Dad to. So we decided to get even sneakier. We had someone else pick me up and take me to the restaurant Mom would take Dad to – keep him off-guard as long as possible.
Dad tells Mom the Monday of his birthday week that he has a meeting on Friday, his birthday with a couple of guys. We were afraid we would have to spill the beans. But Mom kept her cool and told Dad she wanted to take him to breakfast on his birthday before all the craziness ensued and would he schedule it for mid-morning and at least let her do that. He, of course, agreed. So, the plan was back on. Friday morning rolls around. The plane lands. And I called Dad as I was disembarking to “wish him a happy birthday before he gets too busy throughout the day and what with the party that night and all…” I tell him about the weather we’re having in Kansas City. All the typical stuff. I throw in a little “I hope your present gets there today. I’m really bad at timing the mail. You’ll have to let me know when you get it…” I was feeling very excited and proud of myself. I knew I was going to pull it off!
I get picked up and we arrive at the restaurant. I wander around the dining area, rolling luggage in tow, looking for Mom and Dad. They weren’t there yet. So my ride and I crouch behind some souvenirs and trinkets in the gift shop watching the door. They arrived shortly thereafter. Mom knows we’re here and tells Dad she needs to run to the restroom. Dad offers to go get a table but Mom asks him to wait. Mom leaves. Dad is standing not two feet away looking through stuff. I straighten up, walk around the display corner, and just stand there for a moment. Dad turns and sees me. For a moment, he has the look on his face of “I’m trying to reconcile my worlds. That looks like my daughter but I’m pretty sure I’m in Nashville and I’m pretty sure she’s not here.” His jaw dropped as a huge smile came. I wished him a happy birthday again and gave him a huge hug. It was one of the few times I’ve seen my father rendered speechless. Throughout breakfast, he had this absolutely precious stunned by happy smile. I can relate. I had that same look on my face throughout lunch about 8 years earlier. I got to give my dad his family as a present.
Turnabout’s fair play. :)
Relay for Life (take 1)
This weekend was, as usual, blessed and ordained by God. Friday night, I joined with six other women from my employer, along with others from the greater Kansas City area in the fight against cancer. I participated in my first (but hopefully not last or only) Relay for Life. This is one of the flagship fundraising events for the American Cancer Society. It's an all-night, 12-hour walk, with the goal being to have a member of each team walking on the track at all times. The seven of us set up camp, had tons of food, played games, and walked our little heinies off. There were numerous other teams there as well. None of us from our team had ever participated in this event before. I think I speak for all of us and say it was a powerful, impactful, and moving experience we all hope to do again. We each probably walked at least 3 or 4 hours. And we are so grateful to have participated.
Yes, I was a very sleepy girl by the time I got back home at 6 o'clock Saturday morning. I was awake for more than 24 hours, with the exception of a 20-minute nap about 3 o'clock in the morning. The event included a very moving luminary ceremony in which candles in paper bags line the track and are lit. Each bag and candle has the name of someone that is or has battled cancer being honored, supported, or memorialized, a visible tribute by loved ones. Other moving moments included hearing the stories of survivors and those that have fought cancer.
These events occur throughout the country and year. I am nervous but honored as I have been asked to speak at another Relay for Life event this coming Friday night. I will share the story of Nathan and me, from my perspective as a caregiver. It was very humbling to be asked. I covet your prayers that God will be able to use this opportunity He's presented me. I don't want to get in His way.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Graduation weekend
Well, I'm all graduated. I don't yet have my degree (I still have one little ole class to take or clep test to pass.) Mom and Dad came in first thing Friday morning. We spent the day running around getting things for the party and just being together. Mom & I went to a concert together Friday night & had a wonderful time. (Don't worry - there was a basketball game on to occupy Dad.)
Saturday morning we got up & drove to the convention center, I registered, then Mom & Dad left to go find their seats. It was nice to see some former classmates & professors. It was also a bit strange and lonesome standing there, alone with my thoughts in a crowd of people celebrating. I missed Nate very much. Then the procession started - with a fife and drum corp. Nathan & I both very much loved fifes & drums. So, as the pipes are playing, I'm standing in line getting misty-eyed, knowing how Nate would have loved this. I pulled myself together enough to walk in and take my seat. The commencement exercises were lovely; the speakers were excellent. But the keynote speaker sent me over the edge at one point.
She was talking about her father, who passed away four years ago, and the time he was in the hospital as his time approached. Though she was struggling to see him in his condition, he was encouraging her and giving her strength. He called her to crawl up on the bed and lay her head on his shoulder. That brought back such a flood of memories for me of my time with Nate - curling up next to him in his bed at the hospital; falling asleep that last night while sitting in my chair pushed against his bed with my head resting on his shoulder. That made me lose it. The tears start to flow. But this is still before the walk across the stage. I fought to compose myself so I wouldn't cry too hard. I didn't mind the tears falling. I did not, however, want the mascara to run so much that I looked like Alice Cooper as my name was called and I crossed the stage in front of all those people. I managed to get through the rest of the ceremony without major incidence (i.e. tripping on the stupid gown or anything.)
I met up with my parents, as well as Nathan's grandmother & step-grandfather afterwards. I thought it was so precious that they came to the ceremony. We visited for a bit, then headed out. Once in the car, the waterworks started and this time, I didn't care. Mascara or no, I let the tears fall as they may. I touched the rings on my chain, reached back & clung to Mom's hand, and just cried for a moment. I know Nathan was with me. I know Nathan is proud of me. I know Nathan loves me. The day was certainly more sweet than bitter, but I missed getting to see his bright blue eyes smiling at me. I also couldn't help but think of my grandfather (Mom's dad) to whom education was so critically important. I know he was proud of me, too.It was nice to have people dropping in and out over a couple of hours to say hi and wish me well that afternoon. Then the three of us went out for a celebratory dinner, which was fabulous. We walked around the Plaza for a bit, then came home and crashed. Sunday after church, Dad & I hit the driving range for a bit. It was such a pleasure this weekend to have a great visit with both of them together & get some very cool one-on-one time with each of them enjoying different activities. In some regards, I am very much my father's daughter. In other ways, I am every bit my mother. And in some things, I am a quirky nut with traits no one takes the blame, I mean credit, for. I like that.
Overall, it was an excellent weekend that ended too soon.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Graduation Approaches
My parents are coming in to town this weekend, which I'm very excited about. It's always good to have them here. The reason they're coming is exciting too, I suppose. I graduate with my Bachelor's degree on Saturday. It's been a LONG time coming. I did the traditional thing of going to college and living on campus straight out of high school. I loved it and fully expected to graduate in four years. But, as He so often does, God had different plans. I met this really cute guy at the end of my first semester in college. Half-way through my second semester, I was engaged. After completing my sophomore year, I was married and put education on temporary hiatus. It's a decision I have never regretted for a moment.
Nathan always encouraged and supported me in completing my degree. He was a huge driving factor in me finishing this. When the opportunity presented itself in the form of tuition reimbursement through my employer to continue my studies, he simply said, "Why wouldn't you?" So, I (being the cheapskate that I am and making no apologies for it) have taken the scenic route to my degree. I took only as many classes as I could get reimbursed for. Several years later (after which time, most people have letters and titles such as MD or Esquire) I am getting my Bachelor's. C'es la vie. I'm still finishing and I guess I am proud of myself.
But there's definitely a bittersweet element to it. As thrilled as I am that my parents will be here to celebrate it with me, I will absolutely notice who isn't. It will be glaringly obvious who I don't get to hug. I know without question or doubt that Nathan is so proud of me and very much with me in spirit (I always keep him with me, by the way; not just on special occasions.) But it's just not the same. It was one more thing he made me promise I'd finish. And I am keeping that promise. I know he would have made me walk at the graduation ceremony. I really didn't want to. I especially didn't want to, thinking there'd be no one in the audience to care when my name was called. But I know that's not true. The University of Phoenix requested a photo and word or phrase describing each graduate (i.e. "I Am …"). I thought long and hard about a word that I hoped could encompass me, my journey through my education, and my walk over the past nine months. Nate liked good words. Hopefully, he would think this fits: I Am Perseverance.
Nathan always encouraged and supported me in completing my degree. He was a huge driving factor in me finishing this. When the opportunity presented itself in the form of tuition reimbursement through my employer to continue my studies, he simply said, "Why wouldn't you?" So, I (being the cheapskate that I am and making no apologies for it) have taken the scenic route to my degree. I took only as many classes as I could get reimbursed for. Several years later (after which time, most people have letters and titles such as MD or Esquire) I am getting my Bachelor's. C'es la vie. I'm still finishing and I guess I am proud of myself.
But there's definitely a bittersweet element to it. As thrilled as I am that my parents will be here to celebrate it with me, I will absolutely notice who isn't. It will be glaringly obvious who I don't get to hug. I know without question or doubt that Nathan is so proud of me and very much with me in spirit (I always keep him with me, by the way; not just on special occasions.) But it's just not the same. It was one more thing he made me promise I'd finish. And I am keeping that promise. I know he would have made me walk at the graduation ceremony. I really didn't want to. I especially didn't want to, thinking there'd be no one in the audience to care when my name was called. But I know that's not true. The University of Phoenix requested a photo and word or phrase describing each graduate (i.e. "I Am …"). I thought long and hard about a word that I hoped could encompass me, my journey through my education, and my walk over the past nine months. Nate liked good words. Hopefully, he would think this fits: I Am Perseverance.
Friday, May 22, 2009
No Complaints
Here it is Friday morning. The sun is shining (but it's not too hot.) The birds are singing (ok; they're a little annoying first thing in the morning.) I have all my senses and faculties (some work better and/or more frequently than others.) And I know I am well-loved - by God, by family, by friends. I'm blessed to have opportunities to pour and invest back into the lives of those that love me, whom I also love.
As Memorial Day approaches, I realize how little I have to complain about. Not only because of the precious facts previously mentioned. But because I live in a country where I am free to worship One True God. My opportunities here are almost limitless, thanks to those who serve this country. All politics aside, there is no where else I'd rather live. I am not outcast or tossed aside because I am a woman or a widow. God blessed me with an awesome hubby and has proven His faithfulness to continue to provide for me and meet my every need. No matter what may come, I know I am not abandoned or unacknowledged by Him. What an amazing realization to lean into and rest on! My faith is simple and I guess I'm a little slow on the uptake sometimes. But when God reminds me of little things like that, I get pretty excited. Maybe I should realize and recognize all the He is to me and for me 24/7. But He has a way of surprising and reminding me. Sometimes I feel like a little kid who just found out another reason her Daddy is superman. :) Maybe that's what He meant by faith of a child.
As Memorial Day approaches, I realize how little I have to complain about. Not only because of the precious facts previously mentioned. But because I live in a country where I am free to worship One True God. My opportunities here are almost limitless, thanks to those who serve this country. All politics aside, there is no where else I'd rather live. I am not outcast or tossed aside because I am a woman or a widow. God blessed me with an awesome hubby and has proven His faithfulness to continue to provide for me and meet my every need. No matter what may come, I know I am not abandoned or unacknowledged by Him. What an amazing realization to lean into and rest on! My faith is simple and I guess I'm a little slow on the uptake sometimes. But when God reminds me of little things like that, I get pretty excited. Maybe I should realize and recognize all the He is to me and for me 24/7. But He has a way of surprising and reminding me. Sometimes I feel like a little kid who just found out another reason her Daddy is superman. :) Maybe that's what He meant by faith of a child.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Anniversary Update
Well, here it is Monday. That means I made it through Saturday. And you know what? It was not as painful as I feared. I definitely did some crying. But I tried to be very deliberate in my day. Before I put feet on the ground to get out of bed, I read the Bible (this is not my standard practice, but I wish it were.) I just wanted to start off the day with God and with worship because I knew it wouldn't be an ordinary day. Of course, if I had any sense I would realize that every day with God is not ordinary. But alas, I have no sense. So I did something unusual which shouldn't be. (And yes, I'm fully aware I am rambling along without making any sense. See above.) Anywho. I took my shower and it was there that it hit me full force. I should be making chicken cordon bleu tonight for our anniversary. I started sobbing. Then, after a few minutes of a good cry in the shower, I quit. I purposed in my mind I was not going to focus on what I did not and could not have. But rather, reflect on the blessings I was granted in the past with my life with Nathan and trust in the goodness and blessings God holds in His hands for my future.
I left to get some work on my hair done. I put my name on the list to get my hair done. I was about half an hour early from when the salon opened. So, I went and grabbed breakfast at McDonald's. As silly as it sounds, I had brought my wedding album along. There I sat in McDonald's, eating breakfast, reading the program and looking at each picture. I could not help but be aware of how much has changed in eleven years. Not just the loss of Nathan, though that was certainly a large part of it. And not just physically, though I definitely look different at 30 than I did at 19. But how much I've grown, changed, and loved. I am (hopefully) a little wiser now than then. I am more sure of not only who I am but whose I am.
Ask anyone and they will likely answer that life did not turn out as they expected. For some, it is better. For others worse. For almost all, it's different. My life is not at all what I expected. But, as I have said before (and will say again) God is still God and life is still good. I took a long walk on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, just enjoying the glorious beauty surrounding me. Then I went home and curled up to watch my favorite movie. Yes, tears were shed. But a smile was on my face as well on Saturday. Love still abides and abounds in my heart. Come what may, I will never regret my life or begrudge what has been lost. I am very aware that I was given, even temporarily, more than many ever are blessed with.
I left to get some work on my hair done. I put my name on the list to get my hair done. I was about half an hour early from when the salon opened. So, I went and grabbed breakfast at McDonald's. As silly as it sounds, I had brought my wedding album along. There I sat in McDonald's, eating breakfast, reading the program and looking at each picture. I could not help but be aware of how much has changed in eleven years. Not just the loss of Nathan, though that was certainly a large part of it. And not just physically, though I definitely look different at 30 than I did at 19. But how much I've grown, changed, and loved. I am (hopefully) a little wiser now than then. I am more sure of not only who I am but whose I am.
Ask anyone and they will likely answer that life did not turn out as they expected. For some, it is better. For others worse. For almost all, it's different. My life is not at all what I expected. But, as I have said before (and will say again) God is still God and life is still good. I took a long walk on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, just enjoying the glorious beauty surrounding me. Then I went home and curled up to watch my favorite movie. Yes, tears were shed. But a smile was on my face as well on Saturday. Love still abides and abounds in my heart. Come what may, I will never regret my life or begrudge what has been lost. I am very aware that I was given, even temporarily, more than many ever are blessed with.
Friday, May 15, 2009
A Difficult Week
The week of May 10th, I knew, would be difficult. First came Mother’s Day. I expected it to be worse than it was. I thought last Mother’s Day would be my last without at least a bun on the horizon if not in the oven. God knew different. I do not know why Mother’s Day wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be. Maybe it’s because I did not spend the day with mothers (mine, his, or friends with children.) Maybe it’s because I knew it was a blessing that I was not a single mother or pregnant alone. But probably, no definitely, because God’s grace is sufficient.
Tuesday, we had a quarterly employee meeting at work. As I sat there, listening to wonderful inspirational stories of others, my mood began to darken with the sky as the clouds rolled in. The more time passed, the cloudier my countenance got. I was dreading the evening. There was a memorial picnic hosted by the Hospice organization that had cared for Nathan (and me.) I knew I should go. I knew it would be good for me and probably conducive to my healing. I knew I would enjoy seeing the nurses, chaplains, social workers, and aides that I had grown so attached to and missed seeing over the past few months, assuming they were there. I also knew it would be a difficult thing to attend alone. What if the people I knew weren’t there? I was so afraid it would emphasize my loneliness. But I went. They were all there. All the ones Nathan and I held so dear. It was refreshing and comforting to see them. And it was an excellent reminder to me of the far-reaching impact Nathan had and continues to have. I was repeatedly introduced to people I did not know who worked for Crossroads. The introduction was pretty consistent – “You remember the guy we always talked about, Nathan Green? “ “Oh, yeah!” “This is his wife.” I was so proud to hear those words again. One of the chaplains, in speaking of Nate, said, “It’s not often I get ministered to. He did.” In introducing me to another chaplain and telling them about Nathan, he said, “To say this young man was extraordinary would be a gross understatement!” I could not help but smile. It was such a balm to see how much his life, his faith, his spirit, his personality, his heart, the way he cared for and provided for me, and the way he chose to take his final curtain call still be so influential. They did a balloon release at the end of the picnic, with people writing names or notes tied to the balloons. I chose an orange balloon, Nate’s favorite color. My note was simple. “My Sweet Nate, I miss and love you so much. You are forever in my heart and I am forever yours. Always, Chris.” I don’t mind sharing the note – after all, the balloon will lose it’s helium and someone I’m sure will find and read it. I was married to Nathan too long not to become a bit of a pragmatist. But the sight of all those colorful balloons lifting into the gray, cloudy sky missing and honoring loved ones that have gone before was just precious. And whether they make it to heaven or not, I know the sentiments and words are known by the cloud of witnesses.
Saturday, May 16, 2009 would have been the 11th wedding anniversary for Nathan and me. I’m writing this Thursday night. I do not know how I’ll react on Saturday. I don’t know what I’ll feel. I know whatever it is will be acceptable. I don’t know what I’ll do. But I know what I won’t do – I won’t spend the day alone locked away in my house. I can’t. I’m so conflicted. It feels like it won’t be special because the marriage that day was meant to celebrate no longer exists. But the love still does. And the marriage wasn’t dissolved by anyone’s choice. I certainly know I won’t ignore the day or pretend it isn’t significant. But how does one celebrate a marriage one is no longer in? I suppose I’ll know the answers on Sunday. I know God’ll be in the midst of it. He has a tendency to do that. And I’m so glad. I cling to the reminder that He will NEVER leave or forsake me. So, to say it has been and will continue to be a difficult week would be putting it mildly. To date, it’s been one of the more difficult ones I have had in the past five months. But I survived Mother’s Day better than anticipated. I made it through a stormy, cloudy Tuesday (and I do not mean the weather.) And I know I will somehow make it all the way through Saturday and wake up to a glorious Sunday, a little stronger, a little wiser, and maybe a little sadder in the short term. But joy comes in the morning. That’s what I’m counting on. The joy of the Lord. It’s my strength, my peace, my shelter, my strong tower, my hiding place, my comfort. I’m constantly impressed that the nature of God is truly everything I need and more.
Tuesday, we had a quarterly employee meeting at work. As I sat there, listening to wonderful inspirational stories of others, my mood began to darken with the sky as the clouds rolled in. The more time passed, the cloudier my countenance got. I was dreading the evening. There was a memorial picnic hosted by the Hospice organization that had cared for Nathan (and me.) I knew I should go. I knew it would be good for me and probably conducive to my healing. I knew I would enjoy seeing the nurses, chaplains, social workers, and aides that I had grown so attached to and missed seeing over the past few months, assuming they were there. I also knew it would be a difficult thing to attend alone. What if the people I knew weren’t there? I was so afraid it would emphasize my loneliness. But I went. They were all there. All the ones Nathan and I held so dear. It was refreshing and comforting to see them. And it was an excellent reminder to me of the far-reaching impact Nathan had and continues to have. I was repeatedly introduced to people I did not know who worked for Crossroads. The introduction was pretty consistent – “You remember the guy we always talked about, Nathan Green? “ “Oh, yeah!” “This is his wife.” I was so proud to hear those words again. One of the chaplains, in speaking of Nate, said, “It’s not often I get ministered to. He did.” In introducing me to another chaplain and telling them about Nathan, he said, “To say this young man was extraordinary would be a gross understatement!” I could not help but smile. It was such a balm to see how much his life, his faith, his spirit, his personality, his heart, the way he cared for and provided for me, and the way he chose to take his final curtain call still be so influential. They did a balloon release at the end of the picnic, with people writing names or notes tied to the balloons. I chose an orange balloon, Nate’s favorite color. My note was simple. “My Sweet Nate, I miss and love you so much. You are forever in my heart and I am forever yours. Always, Chris.” I don’t mind sharing the note – after all, the balloon will lose it’s helium and someone I’m sure will find and read it. I was married to Nathan too long not to become a bit of a pragmatist. But the sight of all those colorful balloons lifting into the gray, cloudy sky missing and honoring loved ones that have gone before was just precious. And whether they make it to heaven or not, I know the sentiments and words are known by the cloud of witnesses.
Saturday, May 16, 2009 would have been the 11th wedding anniversary for Nathan and me. I’m writing this Thursday night. I do not know how I’ll react on Saturday. I don’t know what I’ll feel. I know whatever it is will be acceptable. I don’t know what I’ll do. But I know what I won’t do – I won’t spend the day alone locked away in my house. I can’t. I’m so conflicted. It feels like it won’t be special because the marriage that day was meant to celebrate no longer exists. But the love still does. And the marriage wasn’t dissolved by anyone’s choice. I certainly know I won’t ignore the day or pretend it isn’t significant. But how does one celebrate a marriage one is no longer in? I suppose I’ll know the answers on Sunday. I know God’ll be in the midst of it. He has a tendency to do that. And I’m so glad. I cling to the reminder that He will NEVER leave or forsake me. So, to say it has been and will continue to be a difficult week would be putting it mildly. To date, it’s been one of the more difficult ones I have had in the past five months. But I survived Mother’s Day better than anticipated. I made it through a stormy, cloudy Tuesday (and I do not mean the weather.) And I know I will somehow make it all the way through Saturday and wake up to a glorious Sunday, a little stronger, a little wiser, and maybe a little sadder in the short term. But joy comes in the morning. That’s what I’m counting on. The joy of the Lord. It’s my strength, my peace, my shelter, my strong tower, my hiding place, my comfort. I’m constantly impressed that the nature of God is truly everything I need and more.
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