Thursday, April 30, 2009
The Former Leader of the Free World
Today I shook hands with former President George W. Bush. We even had a "moment" where we talked about Midland. His wife and I graduated from the same high school.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Cliches
Growing up, my parents shielded my brothers and I from death. When I was 8, four cousins died in a truck/car accident but my parents thought we were too young (I was the oldest) to go to the funeral. When my dad's father died, we were living in Venezuela and it was too expensive for all of us to travel back to the States so my dad went alone. My most vivid memory of this time is seeing my dad open a suitcase full of Christmas presents for Customs. My great-grandfather died at the end of my first year of college and, since my brothers were still in school, my parents left me in charge and went alone to Kansas for the funeral.
The first funeral I attended was for my husband's boss who died of lung cancer. I was almost 27 years old.
In the thirty years since then I have attended my fair share of funerals - grandparents, my brother, my father, a student, a co-worker, and several close friends. I know grief is hard and long and unpredictable. I know that when you lose someone you truly love, the missing of that person never completely disappears. There is both healing and pain in that.
I believe in grace and salvation and eternal life and am certain I will be reunited with all those whom I have loved and lost.
My son has never really recovered from my father's death. The two of them had been watching TV together and as my son left the room, my dad gasped and suffered a stroke. For far too many years, my son believed that if he had stayed with my dad, his grandfather wouldn't have died. It has been hard to watch my son struggle with this.
Watching my daughter grieve over the death of her boyfriend is one of the most difficult things I've done. In two days it will be three weeks since he died. Grief is grimy. I shower twice a day and am constantly washing my hands and brushing my death, attempting to clear away the gray film of grief and of helplessness. I cannot take her pain away. All I can do is watch, pray and be available. She must find her way through her pain. I know she will do it and I know it will take time. It is still hard.
The first funeral I attended was for my husband's boss who died of lung cancer. I was almost 27 years old.
In the thirty years since then I have attended my fair share of funerals - grandparents, my brother, my father, a student, a co-worker, and several close friends. I know grief is hard and long and unpredictable. I know that when you lose someone you truly love, the missing of that person never completely disappears. There is both healing and pain in that.
I believe in grace and salvation and eternal life and am certain I will be reunited with all those whom I have loved and lost.
My son has never really recovered from my father's death. The two of them had been watching TV together and as my son left the room, my dad gasped and suffered a stroke. For far too many years, my son believed that if he had stayed with my dad, his grandfather wouldn't have died. It has been hard to watch my son struggle with this.
Watching my daughter grieve over the death of her boyfriend is one of the most difficult things I've done. In two days it will be three weeks since he died. Grief is grimy. I shower twice a day and am constantly washing my hands and brushing my death, attempting to clear away the gray film of grief and of helplessness. I cannot take her pain away. All I can do is watch, pray and be available. She must find her way through her pain. I know she will do it and I know it will take time. It is still hard.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
A slow return
Viewing - done
Funeral - done
Out-of-town guest leaving - in process
Throwing out excess food - done
Making to-do list for upcoming week - done
I know that the only way to return from deep grief is to pray and slowly return to a routine and schedule. My daughter is going to work tomorrow. The baby will be in day care. Tomorrow night I will sleep in my own bed. As much as we would like for time to stand still while the grief is so raw, it doesn't and that is a blessing. As much as my daughter grieves over her baby growing up without her father, it is a blessing that the baby will grow up and learn new things that will help my daughter find a way to see the future.
This is a sad time. An end to something that was never complete. And a beginning of something that was never dreamed.
Funeral - done
Out-of-town guest leaving - in process
Throwing out excess food - done
Making to-do list for upcoming week - done
I know that the only way to return from deep grief is to pray and slowly return to a routine and schedule. My daughter is going to work tomorrow. The baby will be in day care. Tomorrow night I will sleep in my own bed. As much as we would like for time to stand still while the grief is so raw, it doesn't and that is a blessing. As much as my daughter grieves over her baby growing up without her father, it is a blessing that the baby will grow up and learn new things that will help my daughter find a way to see the future.
This is a sad time. An end to something that was never complete. And a beginning of something that was never dreamed.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Random thoughts
Yesterday was hard. Today is too.
For years I've kept a list of things that are hard for mothers to do. Stuff like having children in the hospital and sending them to kindergarten were early entries. Then my brother died so I added having a child die to the list. Then my children became drivers and I have very strong opinions about riding in the car with someone you birthed. That was added to the list. Then watching kids find their way and make poor decisions and trying not to say something found their way to the list.
Now I have a new item. Watching your child grieve over the death of her boyfriend and the father of her child. This is hard. I know that as much help and support I and others can give my daughter, she still must walk this path alone with God's help. Her grief is hers.
Right now I'm remembering passages from Anne Lamott's books. "Right, left. Breathe" is one that helps. Then another about hoping a child can find grace in the midst of hardship. I pray that my daughter can find this.
For years I've kept a list of things that are hard for mothers to do. Stuff like having children in the hospital and sending them to kindergarten were early entries. Then my brother died so I added having a child die to the list. Then my children became drivers and I have very strong opinions about riding in the car with someone you birthed. That was added to the list. Then watching kids find their way and make poor decisions and trying not to say something found their way to the list.
Now I have a new item. Watching your child grieve over the death of her boyfriend and the father of her child. This is hard. I know that as much help and support I and others can give my daughter, she still must walk this path alone with God's help. Her grief is hers.
Right now I'm remembering passages from Anne Lamott's books. "Right, left. Breathe" is one that helps. Then another about hoping a child can find grace in the midst of hardship. I pray that my daughter can find this.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Tragedy
My daughter's boyfriend and the father of my beautiful granddaughter died this morning. He was the cause of a horrific car wreck and was killed upon impact. The baby turns 1 tomorrow. Please pray for my daughter.
Friday, April 3, 2009
This afternoon
She is coming to see me at work.
Then I get to take her home with me where we will play, read and splash in the bath.
On Saturday I will have her most of the day (I wish all of my daughter's friends would get married and ask her to be a bridesmaid!).
Cannot wait!
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
4/1/09
As a follow-up to yesterday's post about my brother, I thought I'd share a few of his jokes.
When we lived in Venezuela, David received a bow and a set of steel-tipped arrows (wouldn't happen today) for his 10th birthday. He and my younger brother went out to the open field behind the houses to try them out. A few minutes later my dad went to check on the "boys" and found...David shooting the arrows up in the sky and ordering my younger brother to try to catch them as they came down.
Both of my brothers were high school track stars. (My younger brother was a college track star until he fell in love and dropped out.) David ran cross-country in the fall and would take his practice runs on the less-populated country roads. He ran on the edge of the road (no shoulders, just ditches on either side of the road) and when a car would pass him, he would jump and fall down in the ditch. Most of the time, the car stopped and then backed up to check on the "body." David waited until the car was almost to him and then he jumped up and ran off in the opposite direction.
David's older two kids are the same ages as my younger two. My nephew is three weeks younger than my son and my niece is six months older than my daughter. For Halloween when my niece was almost 18 months old, she showed up outside my parents front door, completely naked and in a pair of her dad's cowboy boots - "puss in boots"!
David's younger son was born in Michigan and in January. To introduce the new fellow to the family, David send a video of the kids and him sledding. The two older kids were in the front and David appeared to be holding the new baby and sitting on the back of the sled. As they came down the hill, they hit a bump and, all of a sudden, the baby is flying in the air and lands in the snow. When we saw that, we all gasped. Then David picked up the baby and unwrapped the blanket to show us it was just a doll. His grin reached from ear-to-ear.
When we lived in Venezuela, David received a bow and a set of steel-tipped arrows (wouldn't happen today) for his 10th birthday. He and my younger brother went out to the open field behind the houses to try them out. A few minutes later my dad went to check on the "boys" and found...David shooting the arrows up in the sky and ordering my younger brother to try to catch them as they came down.
Both of my brothers were high school track stars. (My younger brother was a college track star until he fell in love and dropped out.) David ran cross-country in the fall and would take his practice runs on the less-populated country roads. He ran on the edge of the road (no shoulders, just ditches on either side of the road) and when a car would pass him, he would jump and fall down in the ditch. Most of the time, the car stopped and then backed up to check on the "body." David waited until the car was almost to him and then he jumped up and ran off in the opposite direction.
David's older two kids are the same ages as my younger two. My nephew is three weeks younger than my son and my niece is six months older than my daughter. For Halloween when my niece was almost 18 months old, she showed up outside my parents front door, completely naked and in a pair of her dad's cowboy boots - "puss in boots"!
David's younger son was born in Michigan and in January. To introduce the new fellow to the family, David send a video of the kids and him sledding. The two older kids were in the front and David appeared to be holding the new baby and sitting on the back of the sled. As they came down the hill, they hit a bump and, all of a sudden, the baby is flying in the air and lands in the snow. When we saw that, we all gasped. Then David picked up the baby and unwrapped the blanket to show us it was just a doll. His grin reached from ear-to-ear.
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