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? :)

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.

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…”

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.

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.