• 27Aug

    Ahhh . . the release of pressure.

    Cartwheels of relief . . . running lightly across the sand . . . playing with the kids . . . splashing in the cold water . . . a warm shower  . . . a clean house  . . . a rainy day perfect for slowing down . . . tired children all taking naps . . . I GET A NAP!! . . . a simple supper . . . a Veggie Tale movie . . . a quiet night.

    As Dobson says,

    “Thank You, God, for what we have … which we know we cannot keep.”

  • 26Aug

    Happy Birthday Janet!!

    We had a girls day out to celebrate for you.  =)  It was nice to relax, get away from the incessant demands that little ones put on your time, and take a few minutes to remember the days of my youth.  Hah! Like I am so old. . . =)

    Anyway, thanks for your love, support, and prayers.  Hope your special day is as special as you are!!

    Love from all of us here.

  • 25Aug
    Categories: Grieving Comments: 2

    I hang up the phone.  It hurts to remember and a wail is torn from my throat as I realize anew that I am/was helpless to protect the one I love.  There was so much we didn’t know . . .

    I remember the peace we felt going in to the surgery, I see the way God hid bits and pieces of information from us, I marvel at the many choices that got us to that point, and I wonder, “and who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time as this? Esther 4:14” Somehow I must hang on tight to God’s sovereignty and trust His love for me.

    (Excerpts from Psalm 102)

    Hear my prayer, O Lord, and let my cry come unto thee.

    Hide not thy face from me in the day when I am in trouble; incline thine ear unto me: in the day when I call answer me speedily.

    For my days are consumed like smoke, and my bones are burned as an hearth.

    My heart is smitten, and withered like grass; so that I forget to eat my bread.

    By reason of the voice of my groaning my bones cleave to my skin.

    My days are like a shadow that declineth; and I am withered like grass.

    But thou, O Lord, shalt endure for ever; and thy remembrance unto all generations.

    He will regard the prayer of the destitute, and not despise their prayer.

    This shall be written for the generation to come: and the people which shall be created shall praise the Lord.


  • 24Aug

    I have bad memories, too.  I have one picture of Dan, Benjamin, and I that I have a hard time looking at.  I don’t even really remember all the details other than that I know we were fighting and grouching at each other right up until the picture was taken.

    I remember the both of us getting frustrated with each other, as I was pregnant with Benjamin (7) and walking made me feel sea sick, and he was swamped with schoolwork, job, and the responsibilities of a new and growing family.

    I remember the first time we had a major fight and he made me cry.  And another major fight where I again ended up in tears only this time the only way I could get them to stop was with a hug from Dan.

    =) It’s easier to remember the major fights when we only had about one a  year.  =) 

    For the most part I look back on our disagreements and smile.  What’s a relationship with out fights anyway?  If  you don’t fight, then you don’t get to make up.  If you don’t love enough to fight, then you don’t love enough.  Most people fight to protect their vulnerabilities.  If you aren’t vulnerable to your spouse, then he doesn’t know enough about you, and from my point of view I think you are missing something- a LOT of something.  Of course, there are rules to fighting fair . . .

    Anyway, I try to remind myself occasionally that Dan wasn’t perfect.  Looking at my past life and refusing to see the flaws only makes it more difficult to face the future.  I must face the future.  I have a cloud of witnesses pushing me forward, children looking up to me, and the world waiting breathlessly to see if I will stumble. 


    You are my strength when I am weak.

    You are the treasure that I seek.

    You are my all in all.

    When I fall down you pick me up.

    When I am dry you fill my cup.

    You are my all in all.


  • 19Aug
    Categories: Grieving Comments: 3

    He kissed me.


    Not a hurried kiss as he ran out the door, or even a passionate kiss hungering for something more, but rather a kiss full of love, care, admiration and concern.


    I can feel his heat as he pulls me close, his eyes so full of love, his hands gentle on my waist.  My fingers curl around his neck and into his hair.  I love to play with his hair.  He just looks at me, smiling softly.  He thinks I’m wonderful.  He thinks I’m desirable.  I can see it in his face.  He leans closer and his forehead touches mine, and then his lips cover mine, gently, protectively.  His cheek is rough; his hair is freshly washed, his lips firm and enticing. 

    I step closer, wanting more,

              but he’s gone . . .

  • 18Aug

    Caleb has managed to get his first tooth, go from a prone to an upright position by himself, and start crawling all in one weekend.  I love watching the changes, but today I just want to cry.  He’s getting so big.  And that cheeky grin of his . . .  Why isn’t his daddy here to see this?


    I can see us, heading home from somewhere.  I’ve got the baby, Dan has the next one up, there’s a diaper bag somewhere as well as various other children hanging on to our legs, free hands, and each other.  Dan and I are flirting, still free to make suggestive comments as the kids aren’t old enough to understand them yet, and making plans for a movie night.  The lawn needs mowed, dishes need cleaned up, laundry gotten off the line, kids put to bed, but we are content to chatter away, telling each other about the events of our day.  If we work while we talk we can get the important stuff done without even realizing that we are working.  The rest of it can wait.  Time together is more important.

    Now I stare silently at that empty place at the table, the kids are all clamoring for attention and I’m only one person.  That list is still there only now it all falls to me and there is nothing to distract me.  I’ve lost my excuse for putting it off until tomorrow.  Movie nights are pointless and empty.  Flirting is difficult to do by yourself and that extra set of arms and legs for the kids to hang on is gone, meaning that all of them are trying to hang on me.  It makes me think of that passage in Ecclesiastes where it talks about two being better than one.  The weight of this burden was so much easier to bear with another pair of shoulders helping to carry the load.  I miss those shoulders.  What I wouldn’t give to have those arms wrapped around me again, that solid chest to cry on, that cheek resting on my hair, that love surrounding me and letting me know that it will be o.k.  Will I ever be whole again?

  • 17Aug
    Categories: Grieving Comments: 2

    It’s been almost 10 months already.  I feel like I’m back at month 6 or 7.  I did some grieving while building the house, but for the most part it all got shoved into a back corner so that I could concentrate on the here and now.  Now things are slowing down, but I find myself reluctant to pick up where I left off.  It seems I am quite well versed in avoidance tactics and that I am trying to use them on a regular basis.  A friend of mine says, “I don’t like pain.  It hurts me.”  I find that I agree. 

  • 16Aug

    I’ve noticed myself reacting to the kids lately, in much the same way I watched Dan react to them.  I don’t know if it’s just part of the “rubbing off on each other” kind of thing (I’m doubting that one), or if I’m unconsciously trying to take Dan’s place.  Logically I know that’s impossible and that I shouldn’t even try, but I ache so for their loss. 

    Thinking again about how I had to tell the kids about Dan’s death almost drove me to my knees again today (good place to be, really).  It was just all so sudden.  He was here.  He was fine.  He was healthy.  And POW! He was gone.  I feel like we didn’t get to say goodbye properly (the memorial services were such a blur) and closure is missing somehow.  Maybe putting his ashes in our “Danny Garden” will help. 

  • 11Aug

    I started getting some stuff ready for the girls for school this year.  Some of the excitement is back.  I love “planning”.  Plotting a course for the year (whether we keep to it or not), deciding what I want them to learn this year, how I want to go about teaching it, Playing With All That Paper!! . . .  I would guess that not everyone would be able to relate, but I love this!

    I know some people question my desire to home school, but I love teaching my kids new stuff.  I like helping them hone new skills, and for the most part I feel comfortable playing teacher.  Dan was very much in favor of home schooling and wanted to help.  I was hoping he would handle the science department and DEFINITELY the chemistry since I managed to flunk that class quite well.  Guess I will have to do it for a little while . . .  Maybe I will be able to pass this time. =)

  • 09Aug

    I face a choice.  I fear that it is not a choice of right and wrong, but rather better and best.  Unfortunately I am not totally sure what it best.  Or maybe I do know, but am unwilling to accept the answer just yet.  I find myself fighting the temptation to give in to pride and say, “I can be different from everyone else.  I’ve been trained better.  I am doing a good job now.” 

    Then reality strikes and I am humbled by how needy I am and just how much I act like a normal human being.

    I wish Dan would tell me what to do, or at least let me talk it out.