Our Family Tree

Last year I wrote a blog about how I just couldn't put up our family ornaments - couldn't go into the small room where they were kept.
Too many memories....just too hard.

This year I wasn't sure it would be any different.

Early November I started thinking about how I was going to decorate our Christmas tree.
So many ideas crossed my mind, but none of them seemed right.

There was a time last Christmas when one of my children asked, "Where are the other ornaments from when we were growing up?"
My explanation was understood, accepted and that was that.

This year I wondered,
what about 'those' ornaments?
Could I get them out?
Could I do it?

About that time the thought came to mind,
"We are family."

I didn't jump right up and go downstairs.
I thought about it.
I pondered the idea for a while.
Then, one day
I went downstairs and opened the door.
I got out a few boxes that were right inside the small room.
I glanced at the ornament totes, and walked away.

There was no 'blast from the past' ready to knock me down with heartbreak.
It was different this year.

A few days later  I picked up an ornament tote, and brought it upstairs.

I carefully lifted the lid, not sure what my reaction would be to seeing
the family ornaments.
There they were - old friends.
They had waited patiently as I went through trying, tearful years.
They knew I'd be back for them.
 Silent, sweet, memories of joy from years past
 came from each ornament.

Yes, there were tears.
But, I did it.

As I put each ornament on our tree,
I saw our lives unfold

My family....the Baby's First Christmas ornaments....
the preschool cut-out of a drummer boy colored with red crayon -
the Christmas tree with buttons, an ornament that Caleb made in elementary school,
the school pictures glued on little wreaths.
There were cheerleader ornaments, football ornaments, baseball players -
then - the Marine Corps and college ornaments......

When the last ornament was put in place,
I stood back, smiling through tears.

It was like Caleb was telling me, "Mom, the ornaments are the story of our family.
We will always be family.
I will always be part of the story."

All those years -
ornament after ornament,
we were building our story.

I wanted to complete the tree with a special topper -
not a star, or an angel or a bow.
I wanted something meaningful.
Something unique...special, just for us.

One day, while I was shopping in a Hallmark shop, there it was.
A wooden plaque that says,
"Family. Count your blessings."

It was perfect for our tree.

Our Christmas tree
truly is our family tree.

And that, my friends, is the rest of the story.



                                                             

green pastures: And On This Is Thanksgiving

green pastures: And On This Is Thanksgiving

And On This Is Thanksgiving

I'm thankful.
I am.
I may have streams of tears rolling down my face thinking about the holidays,
but I am thankful.

One thing I've learned through this journey so far, is that you never know how you are going to be from one minute to the next.
I've learned that if I have the energy right now, I better utilize it - it may not be there later.
One minute I'm thinking I'm doing very well thank you, and the next - I'm crying.

I was just fine earlier today.
Went for a walk.
Ran some errands.
Started decorating, cleaning (or making bigger messes) and thinking about Thanksgiving -
since it is the closest holiday.

I was talking to someone about Thanksgiving and was asked what we do as a family.
I started out smiling.
We have a 'normal' meal with turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes....you get the picture.
It's nothing extraordinary.
We share what we are thankful for (I remember the year I was joking and said, 'Facebook.' I will never live that down - I really was joking.)
We sit and pray together,
and eat and visit.

We may not all be able to be together for holidays, but even so, if one is missing that one is still a part of our family and we include him/her in our prayer, and in our stories (it's good stuff I tell you....we tell funny stories and laugh.)

The one who made us laugh the most, though,  won't be with us.
That's where the tears started.
I was telling a Caleb story and it just happened.
I know people may think, "That's why I don't want to mention your loved one. I don't want to make you feel bad by remembering, and make you cry."
To those people I say, "It's ok. Ignore my tears...they are cleansing and it doesn't mean you've made me feel bad by making me remember. I remember 24/7. I love talking about my loved one. Ask away, and understand that the tears are just part of my heart and the love I have for him."

Thanksgiving will never be the same. There will always be that empty place where Caleb should be. We may not all be together for holidays, but we can still call and chat and share our love....
If only we could call Caleb - that would help so much.

We will never get over missing him.
Never.

He was the one who'd walk through the kitchen when I was getting things ready, and grab a piece of food - or a slice of raw potato if I was peeling and slicing them for mashed potatoes.
He'd laugh and go on his way.
He loved Thanksgiving turkey and all the dressings.
He loved being together with family -
we loved being with him.

I'll never forget the Thanksgiving he shot a turkey and brought it home.
 That year we had two turkeys - I'm sure I will tell that story every year for as long as I'm here.
He was always full of adventure.
Ah, Caleb.

Even though it's hard I can say -

I'm thankful.
I'm thankful for the time we had Caleb in our lives.
I'm thankful for my husband and children....we've shared a life of love and laughter - even through the tough times.
I'm thankful for each blessing in my life - each person God has brought across my path.
I'm thankful for this country where we still have the freedom to live free.
I'm thankful for life - now and everlasting because of Jesus and because God just loves us so much.
I'm thankful for Griz, Caleb's dog who is such a part of our family - special Griz who makes us laugh and lets us know he loves us unconditionally.

There's a turkey in my freezer waiting to be thawed....there is dressing waiting to be fixed,
and you know -
I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving...
to family time.
And -
Caleb will be part of our meal, of our Thanksgiving,
because he will always be a part of us.

We'll tell stories...we'll laugh because of the Caleb stories that always brighten our lives.
There will always be room for Caleb - always.



Caleb, we are thankful, so thankful for you.
We love you ~
Your family

Fall

Some days invisible smiles appear along the way.

I breathe in the fresh autumn air.
The beauty of Fall is alive with vibrant colors.
Crisp leaves crackle as they dance beneath my feet.

A bird utters a melody as he flutters past my head, joining the many going south.

It's like an embrace from heaven, and
I am refreshed.

Golds, reds, and oranges splash trees with color, and shimmer
in the light of morning sun.
I think of how colors in heaven will be...
hues we've never seen.
I can't imagine.

A fresh, sweet fragrance fills the air,
a wisp that tickles my nose from a nearby tree.
I inhale, wanting the smell to last.
I know in heaven, smells will be sweeter forever.

The mums in my yard whisper peace to my soul...
yellow, lavender and white, as
I brush past the softness of their delicate petals.

I relax in my porch,
watching as birds hop here and there...
the naughty squirrel has left his trail where he chiseled away at my pumpkin.

The leaves on the bush near the porch show such a splendid array of heaven's workmanship.

Oh Caleb. How can there be any doubt in such beauty?
I rejoice in my sorrow.
I know that you are surrounded with such splendor and beauty,
such eternal love and joy,
beyond anything I can comprehend.

It warms my heart and brings joy to my soul.
I can smile and know that one day....
everything will be all right.

It's the now, my sweet son -
it's the now that is hard.
But, I welcome days like this, where
a gush of heaven's splendor washes over me,
and for a brief moment,
everything is breathtaking and wonderful
because I know the beauty I see, the wonder that takes my breath away
is a gift from my Father
who loves us so much.

I can sense your love with the presence,
with the glimpse of heaven's illumination.
It is forever.
In the midst of these tears,
I have a witness before me -
in this is the promise of a bright, and beautiful eternity
with you.
In this there is comfort.

Till then.......

My heart carries on, in love, with hope ~

Selah.

Triggers

There are triggers and there are triggers.
Definition #1- A small device that releases a spring or catch and so sets off a mechanism, especially in order to fire a gun.
I'm not talking about that one today (maybe another day.)
Definition #2  ~ An event that is the cause of a particular action, process, or situation

This morning I was walking Griz.

What a beautiful morning.
Gentle, cool breeze.
Sunshine.
A clear, blue Colorado sky.
Early morning traffic passes in hushed hums
as people travel to work or school.
I'm lost in the lyrics  on Pandora.
Fresh, sweetness of the morning -
Helping to lift my heart -
necessary to start my day.

Griz stops to sniff a pole.
I think if he could talk, he could probably tell me who all had stopped there.
He finishes his visit, and we continue on.
We pass the wonderful, huge American flag that I love.
I'm always filled with gratitude looking up, thinking of all it represents.

Then,
without warning
a  roaring  siren blasts my ears.

I am breathless.
I feel nauseous.

Caleb.

More emergency vehicles rush past me.
More sirens.

Caleb.

I wasn't there.
I don't know what all transpired with those vehicles in Riverside that day.
But, emergency vehicles trigger unseen memories of that terrible day.

I continue to listen to music, concentrating hard on the lyrics,
but the nausea is still there.
Another emergency vehicle passes with sirens blaring.

I quicken my steps.

The sirens echo in my mind.
Quiet, deep sobs wrack my being.

The lyrics I hear -
"....I'm not afraid.
Show me your glory...."

This week I got to visit with one of Caleb's high school classmates who came to visit from Wisconsin.
We shared some about glory...
God's glory.
Where He is in glory....
where Caleb and her dad live now.

I'm in a Bible study where we are studying the life of Paul.
This week the topic was on death.
Hard but hopeful.
One thing mentioned -
our hope is in a glorious future ingathering.
We will be together again.

In the darkness of the valleys
I reach up
to glory.

Triggers are real.
They happen whenever they happen.

Maybe one day they won't ring in my ears and make me nauseous.

But, for now -
I am home
where there is
peaceful silence

I rest.

Glory resides in my heart
and that gives me hope.

Yes, even in the hard times,
there is glorious hope.

Sometimes I need a waterfall

Being real is not always so easy when we are supposed to be "happy people." Time is supposed to take care of everything. Let it go and move on, so to speak, and everything will be all right.

Sorry, but I am called to be real in this walk and this morning has been difficult. Sometimes there is such deep longing to see Caleb, I can hardly stand it. It’s like if I don’t see or hear from him I’m going to explode…like I just can’t bear the pain of being apart.

There is no place to go to make these times disappear. It’s just how it is.
I get up and Griz is staring at me. Good. I have purpose. I can take care of Caleb’s dog…and he is a fine one. I’m sad but he makes me smile.

The sadness is overwhelming this morning and I don’t feel like doing anything…don’t have the energy.

But! I get dressed and take Griz for a walk. Feed him when we get back, and tell him he’s going to get groomed today (he gets a bath and mani/pedi from my friend in Bethune.)

Fall is in the air. It's cold, cloudy and windy.
I love Fall, but it's another season.
Hard to explain, but even if I'm not conscious of it, it seems subconsciously I'm getting ready for another first...another season of change.

As we drive down the road, I see sunflower fields about ready for harvest.
Yup, Fall is in the air.

By now tears are streaming down my face. The songs I hear speak to my heart. ‘Grace Wins’ and ‘Flawless’ songs about mercy and grace. Pure and given freely. I lean into my Father’s love. He understands.

So many times I try to remain strong and keep on going. I go and go….go to functions, Bible Study, visiting, keeping busy… Then I reach the end of ‘me’ and I have no choice but to stop – this morning is a testimony of that.

There are days when the brokenness surfaces and I can’t go any further.

While Griz is getting groomed, I sit in silence and wait.

I look at my devotion on my phone app. Sometimes it’s truly helpful – sometimes not so much. Today it’s from Romans 12:12 ~ "Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer."

I do have hope. I do. Even when it’s so hard to keep on going with a ‘happy’ face…there is joy in my heart because of hope.

Patient in affliction. ~ I want to run away from this reality. Run backwards in time to a better place when Caleb was with us and life was ‘normal.’ It can be draining to face each day and smile. It takes a lot of energy to be ‘normal’ these days. Standing strong takes a lot and by the end of the day I am so ready for bed. Being patient in affliction is something I’m learning….His grace is sufficient for each day. I have enough manna to get through one day. This morning when I got out bed, and started the day, I hadn’t reached for the manna. I was spent before the day even started.
 

So, with all the strength I can muster I reach for that manna that says,  "Be joyful in hope, be patient in affliction…faithful in prayer."
I sit on my Father’s lap and share my heart with him. He never pushes me away. He knows – some days are extremely difficult to face. Sometimes people are hurtful – not on purpose, but it happens. The busyness of life can cause us to be preoccupied and insensitive.

When I sit before him, I rest. I find grace for patience for another day.

I've been on this journey for a short time and forever.

A person recently asked me how long it’s been since Caleb’s been gone, and I said, “Two and a half (pause)  - minutes.” I smiled and said, “Years, but it seems like minutes sometimes.”

I want to see his face so badly. Want to be in the same room with him. Be able to hug him and listen to him laugh. ~ No. You don’t get over that.

It’s like my heart is squeezed together with the longing and my throat is so tight I can’t find the words. There are days like this. It’s how it is.

But, I hang on to the hope, being patient with all that is in me. I talk to my Father and somehow peace comes – there is that balm of Gilead that supernaturally gives me strength for another day, a minute at a time.

I have to rest in Him. I have to stay close to Him always. There is no other way that I could make it on this journey.

There is soothing grace that enters my soul. It's like a waterfall.
It still hurts like crazy.
But, I have hope. His Word is true.
I have manna
for today.

I stand under the waterfall of love and grace.

Selah.


"Waterfall"
by Chris Tomlin

Deep As The Grand Canyon

Random.
I wasn't sure I could use it.
Random is used in so many ways.
The definition - "Unknown, unidentified or out of place."
Oh yes. It fits -
I'm feeling kind of random right now.
I'm in a random spot in life.

It's a tough morning.
Some days I wake up with that huge canyon where my heart has been ripped apart - sometimes the canyon seems deeper and wider than other times.
There's this enormous chasm, a Caleb chasm, that huge hole that only he can fill.

It's how it is.
It doesn't matter how much time goes by.
Some days are just hard, and I don't seem to fit anywhere.

So -

I go to my Father.
I curl up on the couch and sink into his love.
The pain would be unbearable if it wasn't for him.
I talk to him, and just tell him how it is.
I can hardly stand being away from Caleb.
I miss his smile, his laugh, the way he could make me laugh till I'd cry.
I miss his stories, his wisdom, his hilarious sense of humor, his honesty,
his heart for God, his love for life and how everything is always an adventure.
I miss being able to talk to him face to face...to be able to talk on the phone or text.
I miss him more and more as time goes by.
I tell my Father it is the most painful thing I've ever experienced.
I tell him I don't understand...
I don't understand how people think you can just get over it - move on -
just have fun - let it go.
I tell my Father these things.
I have no secrets from him.
He knows my every thought.

I open my devotional.
The topic is trusting God.
The last paragraph reads, "Trust Me to take care of your loved ones. They are safe with me. My Presence never leaves them - just as I never leave you." (Jesus Calling by Sarah Young)
My heart lifts as my Father brings to remembrance the words that have meant more and more to me as time has passed. ~ He never left Caleb. He has always been with him. Caleb is safe with him.
All my children are safe with him. I am safe with him.
It helps - it hurts, but it helps.

On this random day it is an effort to go for a walk,
but Griz looks at me with those big googly eyes, so expectantly.
I can't disappoint my buddy.
So, I grab his leash, and click on Pandora as we walk out the door.
Christmas music soothes my soul.
Christmas reminds me of the sweet special times we have as a family - especially when Caleb could be home.
Christmas music lightens my heart, and brings hope close.
Random? Maybe so, but I like it.

When I get home
I get a message from my daughter reminding me of the church service.
I watch an excellent message from the book of  Esther
and think about how she must've felt out of place in her life, too.
I'm thinking about the message, and about feeling so 'random.'

As I follow along a message scrolls across the bottom of the  TV screen.
"Where you are is not random. It is an assignment."

I read it again.
WHERE YOU ARE IS NOT RANDOM. IT IS AN ASSIGNMENT.
There it is!
There is no denying it.
 ~ It is a message for me.

Tears stream down my face as I think about my God.
and how I kept saying it was all so random.

He knows.
He really does.

I reread the first part of my blog and
looked up the definition for canyon even though I already know what a 'canyon' is.
It read, "A deep gorge, typically one with a river flowing through it."

Again.
A message for me.

I may have this deep hurt, this deep, huge canyon, this gorge in my torn heart, but there is a river of life flowing through it.

There is a longing for Caleb, and sometimes it is there all day.
But, no one will know, because even though
it's tough, and there is no other way to put it....
God has given me grace for the day, an extra boost, and extra
taste of hope.

Thank you Father.

Sometimes He really does write messages on the wall for me.
How can I possibly doubt?

Note to self:

No matter how deep the canyon in your heart, there is a river of life flowing through it.
Where you are is not random. It is an assignment.

I can do this.

 

Clatter Clutter And The Stuff Of Life

Stuff.
I've got it, and these days it's been screaming at me.
I'm not a hoarder - not like the ones on TV; but
for some reason, in this season
I don't want to feel hemmed in, at all.

Things.
I've cleaned out drawers time and time again
over the  past two years.
Since I recently misplaced a set of keys, I've been on a hunt, looking everywhere.
That means I clean out drawers - again.

Yesterday I pulled out phone books from 2012,
a calendar from 2012....
This morning I went through a desk drawer that I've cleaned out
before - notes to myself from 2012.

I don't know why I didn't see those things before yesterday,
but there they were.

It was a weird, sad feeling.
2012 Caleb was here at home, laughing and cooking, and sharing his wonderful self with us.
2012 I had notes to remember things about Caleb coming home...Christmas lists, menus....
2012 there were calls from Caleb.
2012 - the last year of normal as we knew it.
Yes, time literally stopped in 2012.

Today I invited silence into my day.
I hadn't noticed how clutter had been feeding my mind.
TV - just for the background noise.
Music - all kinds, from Christian to Christmas, to Taylor Swift and even Garth Brooks which is so not me.
In every room, or vehicle, there was music or voices...
Today I needed to de-clutter my mind.
Being informed is all right, but for now, the sadness of all that is going on
in our world is overwhelming.
The media feeds on spinning the worst in its interpretation.
I had to step away.
The music, and other sounds were good, but there is a time for silence.

I've been on a de-clutter mission in my home, which could take a while.
Just down-sizing, going through 'stuff.'
Lately, 'stuff' has been making me tired.
I'm tempted to put everything in a huge dumpster.

Is it part of this grief journey?
So many people I know on this same journey are
re-doing, down-sizing, de-cluttering....
Is it cleansing to our souls because it is something we can control
in this life that threw tragedy at us - spinning our worlds totally off balance and upside down?
I don't know, it's just something I've noticed.
Is it a type of cleansing to be able to get rid of or change the 'stuff' of our lives
because things can be so difficult on this heartbreaking journey where we miss our loved ones daily?
I don't know.
It does help somehow, for a little while.

I know the silence is soothing right now.
I need it.
Bagging things up, painting walls, getting rid of 'stuff'
is therapeutic to my soul.

It's a new turn.
I don't know where it's all going, but it's how it is.

One of Caleb's  friends was in Cambodia and sent us a postcard that said, "Live Simply."
So many of Caleb's friends know the meaning.
You can have stuff, just don't let stuff have you - is the message I get.
It makes it easier to get rid of when you move.
I'm not moving to a different house, or city,
but my life is moving,
and some of this 'stuff' doesn't fit anymore.

Funny how life is.
As hard as the journey is, there is good.
I know I've said this before, but Caleb would tell me, "Get rid of useless stuff."
It's happening my son.

In the silence, in the stillness of now I find peace.
It helps- even if there is still 'stuff' waiting.

~~~~~

I'm in this world but for a while.
I'm only traveling through.
I take my suitcase, my broken self
and  walk this line until that day when...
I will journey to those gates.
I came with nothing holding me,
I'll leave my baggage here.

So, while I'm here,
I will to travel light.
I'm learning as I go-
Let go of useless things,
and hold tight to eternal sights.

I know the treasures,
the priceless things of life.
The light of this life,
The love of my family,
The joy of those I love.
Those are most precious,
And will last forevermore.

Selah.

(Diane Homm, 7/21/2015)

Caleb's Class Reunion Thank You

Class of 2005 - Thank you.

When I got the phone call and was told Caleb's family was invited to the reunion, that you wanted
Caleb to be represented...
I cried, and want you to know how that touched my heart.

I knew it would be hard to go, but I knew I would.
I'd be there for Caleb, for you.
I wanted to hear about your lives, and wanted to hear those
Caleb stories!

What a fun class! It was great to see all of you, and hear all about where life has taken you.

You were always a fun, high-spirited class.
You knew how not to take things too seriously,
yours was a class not afraid to think outside the box (it's a compliment.)
I had the privilege of knowing you all in the classroom, and out of school as well.
Not many people can say that (except Andy's mom.)
Actually, we never knew what you were going to do next!
You all have turned out just fine (we knew you would - even though we may have lost some sleep over it through the years.)

I've got to tell you, I had a good cry before I got out of my vehicle at the park where you all were meeting.
The memories of not-so-long-ago, of your class in kindergarten, elementary school, middle school, at high school graduation -
were fresh in my mind.
Many memories of you and Caleb.
How could it be ten years, and Caleb not be here?

As I neared the pavilion those deep, heart-wrenching sobs escaped, and I took a deep breath.
I wasn't dreading being there with you, it was just thinking of Caleb, and how he should be the one going to his reunion.
I can imagine how much more lively the reunion would've been with him there with you all, laughing and sharing your memories.

Thank you for the warm hugs.
You all made me feel so welcome.

It was so special of you to present me with the shadow box your class is planning for Caleb.
And the flowers and card - so sweet.

You all were so transparent with me, talking to me about how you miss Caleb.
Your tears joined with mine. Your hearts for your friend touched my heart, too.
Thank you for allowing me to speak to you about Caleb.
Thank you for telling those hilarious stories - oh the memories you all have
of Caleb.
I'm always finding out new things about the adventures Caleb had, the things he said that impacted lives.
The stories you shared are treasures to my heart, and I want you to know I look forward to hearing them again, and again.
Thank you for writing in the composition book I brought - "About Caleb."
Your thoughts, your messages, your stories meant a lot to me, and sending messages to Caleb - well, I think he knows.
Andy, thank you for the poem you wrote for Caleb.

The food was delicious - Caleb would agree. :-)
I love that your reunion was simple, and wonderful - - so like your class.
Getting together was what was important.
Having your reunion during the Summer Celebration at the park was a great idea.
I didn't get to watch you play volleyball, but I'm glad I was there to watch Andy Babb And The Big Beautiful Band perform!
Andy, you and Caleb....yes, I remember well. The Paradise buddies. You two together, living just a few houses apart...oh the fun, and orneriness. I'd always say, 'If Caleb doesn't think of something, Andy will.'

Andy, I love your music, and was so blessed to be able to see you.
Randy J, thank you for the invitation to dance.
Yes, I was reluctant at first, but then I could see Caleb smiling, "Go on, Mom. You know it'll be fun."
Thank you for getting me out of my comfort zone. It was so fun dancing with you - along with Jesse.
I know you didn't know, but the night before, at a wedding, there was a couple swing dancing, and I thought it looked so fun.
Randy J - you swung me around and were such a good swing dance instructor ~ a highlight of my day, and a memory I will cherish.
It didn't matter that there were all those people around - nope. It was just fun.
And, Andy - thank you for the song you dedicated to Caleb - the lyrics are very fitting.
Jindy, thank you for everything you did to make the reunion special - and making it happen.
And Justin - Thank you for the phone call. I know that was not an easy call to make. You and Caleb went through a lot together, and I know Caleb means a lot to you.
Everybody - thank you for being there.

You all touched my life in a way that will stay with me for a long, long time.
I love you, and appreciate what you did for me, for our family, for Caleb.

You hold a special place in my heart always, Class of 2005.
What great memories Caleb has of growing up with you!
I know he is in your hearts.

We will see him again in heaven.
♥
Until then, keep it real.
As I shared with you,
I know he would tell you to live your lives to the fullest,
not to settle for mediocrity, to laugh, to trust in God, and to embrace the time
you have.


The song Andy dedicated to Caleb ~
Live Life My Own Way, by Andy Babb And The Big Beautiful Band

                                                        

To Be Able To Rewind

I went to the cemetery this morning to pick up the flowers from Memorial Day.
Crazy as it may seem, I still drive through the rows of headstones in a daze.
This is my life?
I walk to the spot where Caleb's name is posted.....
I feel like I am in a dream.
How is it that my son's name is out here?
I look at the flowers, at the flags, at the motorcycle I have placed there myself.
It all seems so unreal.

I feel sick to my stomach as I pick up the flowers and flags.
I want to scream.
I want to run...put everything on rewind,
back to the days when I could hear his voice, his laughter.
Back to when I could see him, hug him and watch him eat a whole
kiwi, yes skin and all.
I would grimace.
He would laugh. "There are lots of vitamins in these," he would say with a big smile.

Back to when he'd leave to go running, and come back sweaty and smiling (yes, always a smile.)
Back to when I'd catch him drinking out of the milk carton.
Back to the days when we'd all sit around and listen to his adventure stories that always ended with us all laughing.

I'm not strong today, God.
I'm just not.
Even though I go through the day looking "normal," doing the "normal" things
like grocery shopping, going to the post office, visiting with people I see,
it is not a "normal" day.
Oh, some days are a little easier than others.
This was not one of them.

 

I read a story today about a ninety-seven year old Gold Star mom (Gold Star families have had a family member killed while serving in the military.)
Her son was in the Vietnam war. August 23, 1968 a huge explosion hit the pit where her son was. He rescued a fellow soldier and was gravely injured by shrapnel.
"There are no words in the English language to express the loss of a child. Part of you goes with him....I've never felt bitter, but there's a real big empty spot in my heart," she said.

Some of her son's buddies from Vietnam - including the one whose life he saved, keep in touch with her.  "...there are no words can express what they mean to me. They are part of my family." They provide stitches to the hole in her heart that hasn't closed in almost 47 years.
(taken from an article in the Amarillo Globe-News, "Son's Comrades Ease A Mother's Loss" by Jon Mark Beilue. June 5, 2015)

 

Reality -words from that mother pierced my heart.
Time makes no difference to the heart of a mother.
Her love is strong forever.

 

It is a tough journey.

No other way to put it.
I can identify with what this lady shared about her son's buddies.
Caleb's military brothers bring so much support and joy to me and my family.
We are grateful to them for keeping in touch.
It means a lot.

There is grace - always grace.
That grace from God that gives me the ability to continue on day by day.

Through the tears, I stop.
I remember.
I know
there are blessings around me.
~My children who bless me so much, who bring so much joy to my heart.
~My husband who knows that simple hugs mean so much.
~My neighbors who visit and bring a smile to my face.
~The pastor who seems to know just the right time to visit (Yes, he
did happen to stop by today.)
~The friends who call just to say hi, at just the right moment.
~The butterflies that dance around the colorful flowers in my yard.
~The birds that sing melody after melody, reminding me of how my Creator cares
about even the birds (and how much more He cares for me.)

He knows.
He understands.
There is always comfort, peace and hope
even when I don't feel so strong,
even through the tears, and the sadness.

My help is from You, Lord.
You carry me just as I am.
You take my weaknesses, my brokenness,
all on your shoulders.

No, it isn't always easy.
But,
there is hope for this journey.

Selah.

(Song/Shoulders by King & Country)

A Letter To My Son Caleb/ Date May 28, 2015

 Dear Caleb,

I'm sitting at my desk, looking up at our family picture. I remember the night we had those pictures taken and how blessed I felt to have all my children together before you deployed to Iraq.
Oh Caleb. tears stream down my face as I think of you. I miss you more than words can express. My heart is torn and yet so proud. What an honor to be your mom.
I know you'd guffaw that, because in your eyes, you were always, "just Caleb." You never wanted any recognition for yourself, and were always there for others. You gave and lived and laughed more than anyone I know.
Because of your life, my son, my life is so different now.

I want to tell you about the last two weeks.
We went to California for the Recon Challenge. It is always wonderful to be there with your Recon brothers. I always think of you as I watch them do the over-the-top maneuvers while carrying the names of the fallen. I think of you and Mark doing the Challenge and coming in second place - right after you got back from Afghanistan - crazy amazing. Chris and Zach carried your name this year. I'm thinking you already know that. I love spending time with these guys - they always have some "Caleb" stories and of course, I love that. They continue to honor you Caleb. They love you and are so kind to us. ~ Awesome men - like you.
When we got home from the Challenge, I did laundry, re-packed and flew out to Washington D.C. for a TAPS conference and for Memorial Day. TAPS is a really good organization for families of the fallen. I spent time with other Gold Star moms, and got to spend time with Gold Star wives and their little children as well. Oh, Caleb....it broke my heart to see all those little children with no daddies. So many amazing (I know, I should find another word besides amazing....haha.) wives raising and caring for the little lives left in their care. TAPS is good for us - we can talk about you all we want. There are pictures of you and so many others. It is so helpful.

Memorial Day in DC was as it should be. It honored all those who sacrificed their lives, which now includes you.
Guess what - you'll never guess. I rode with Rolling Thunder. Ha! I know, you're saying like Collen said - "Weird....cool, but weird." Imagine your mom on the back of a Harley - it was a trike - ok, so you can imagine that - I know..it's still weird - - but cool. I thought of you while I rode with one of 900,000 bikers who rode from the Pentagon to the Vietnam Memorial Wall. Oh Caleb - there are so many true Americans, Patriots. I heard later from Brian, that one of your and Brian's buddies rode with your name that day. That was so awesome to hear. You are so remembered my dear son.

I had dinner with Brian - met his mom. I find these Recon moms are a lot alike. It was like we were old friends. You might agree with Brian who thought that was a scary thought.
I had breakfast with Kathy and the 'littles'. You'd have so much fun with Chris and Kathy's little children! Maybe you did meet them when you all were in California. I hadn't thought about that. I just know little children love you.
 
While in DC we visited the Pentagon and Arlington Cemetery. At the Pentagon, Secretary of Defense Carter told us "Welcome home....this belongs to you."  I thought of you - it belongs to you - to all of you who gave all.
At Arlington Cemetery - well you can imagine....it is overwhelming and humbling that so many sacrificed their lives for the freedom I have as an American.

Caleb, you didn't live in a conventional box - because of your life, I have been forced out of the box as well. There is no complacency in life. There is no time. You taught me that. Watching your life unfold was amazing. Thank you for not allowing me to be complacent -ever. Yes, I'm serious.
 
I'm fixing steaks tonight - you loved having steak - almost cooked, "with the moo." Salad too - gotta have the healthy stuff.

There are so many honoring your life, and thinking of you - it makes me cry.
You are an amazing man my son. I stand tall. We all do. Dad, your brothers and sister, and I - we stand tall because of you. Because you are our son, brother. You have made such a difference in this life - your life goes on touching and changing lives, including ours.

I met with a lady at TAPS and we were talking about the Bible verse that says, "If a child honors his parents his life will be long on this earth." She shed a different light on that verse and I want to share that with you. It bothered me because you did honor your parents, and you are gone from here. The lady said, maybe we need to look at it in a different way. Your life is long on this earth because your life continues to give, inspire, motivate and challenge others. I like that.
Caleb, I know you know this mom. You know I'm sitting here crying. You also know I cry because I love you and I miss you so much. Time will never change that.
I cry in gratitude because of the fine son you are.
I cry with hope because I know one day I will be able to hug you again, see your face again.

Then, you can take me on a tour of heaven and show me things you've been doing there.
I love you so much my warrior son.
I love you.
~ Mom

And So It Goes

I thought I was doing pretty well, actually.
It's been two years now.
I have hard days, but overall I keep busy, stay pretty "up" for the most part- even though there are tears intermingled.
Recently, I've been told so many things by well-meaning people.....

"What do you mean still being in a state of grief? Doe this grief make you happy? Why do you grieve? Get on with your life. (In other words - be happy like I am. I get over things immediately and am a puffed up Cheeto!)
"You need to choose the alternative to grief."
"You really need to get on with your life...you're stuck in a rut and need to get out and get on with it."
"Move on. Get rid of the pictures (connotation here:  "Act like Caleb never existed.")
"You post too many things about your son. It's just not right."
"About your blog. Write something different."

Whew.
Talk about getting an earful.
So much advice from those who don't have children or have not had to plan a funeral their child.

Right now I feel sick.
Well-meaning (or not) people are making me tired.

"Be tough. Don't listen to them."
That is true.
I should (be tough, and not listen.)
Somehow I am continually blindsided by people who say hurtful things. These are not people I'd expect hurt to come from - that's why it hurts so much, I guess.

A few simple explanations for the well-intentioned:
Grief is not a choice.
(Oh yeah, there is this one - 'You choose to grieve. Grief is not of God,' they say.) On that comment, I know Jesus is acquainted with our sorrows. He wept at the tomb of his friend, Lazarus. He was filled with compassion.
Grief is a natural response to loss. It is the emotional suffering one feels when something or someone the individual loves is taken away.
Believe it or not, it is gut-wrenching to be separated from your child for the rest of your life. It just is...even if you know you are going to see that child again in heaven.
No, grief does not make me happy (hellooo.) I've read that grief is in proportion to the love you have for the person. I love my son (and all my children) with my whole heart and would have gladly given my life for him (them.)
As for an alternative to grief -
Hmmm...let's see. The alternative to grief would be, not having had the experience in the first place.
If my son was here I wouldn't be experiencing that grief.

There is no time limit on grief, contrary to the popular belief by those who have not experienced it...those who think that after one year life returns to what it was before - to 'normal.' Sorry guys - that's not true, and life won't be back to 'normal' ever again. Grief? I hear (from those in authority-those who are a few years ahead in this journey) we learn to live with it...that it lessens a bit in time, but is always there, and can reappear at any unannounced moment.


My life has changed - period. I am not stuck in a rut, waiting for someone to rescue me from my 'sorry' life. I am making my way day by day, with God's strength (that is something I know, whether anyone believes it or not.) He guides and gives me peace (peace that, I admit leaves when these comments come my way.)

I seem to be the topic of some people's expert opinions, "Oh, we should fix her." Sorry - my life is not governed by your judgment of me. My life is not according to what you think it should be and where it should be going.

If you'd like to be helpful (that's a hard one) just accept me. Walk beside me. Know that I do have a Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and He loves me with all my faults, and He actually sends me messages everyday! These messages actually help me through every single moment.
He tells me I am not condemned. I am not criticized by him, but he does encourage and walk with me.
He makes me smile through my tears because his joy is my strength.
He loves me unconditionally.
His grace is sufficient for each day.
He guides my steps and makes me lie down in green pastures (not literally.)
He leads me beside still waters, and restores my soul (which is my mind- will, intellect and emotions - smile here please.)

There are days I don't have a lot of energy, but I do what I can. Yes, even on those tough days.
 And I may not be doing what you think I should be doing, but I'll let you in on a secret - you don't know what I do all day because you are not an active participant in my life day in and day out (a bit of laughter accepted here.)
I am thankful I am not where I used to be.

I am a child of the most High God, and knowing that helps me through each day.
Because I am a child of my Heavenly Father, I know heaven will be my home one day (even though I am not perfect - funny I know, but that's right.)
Because I know I am going to heaven, I know I am going to see Caleb again.
Because I know I am going to see Caleb again, I can smile through the tears.
In all of these difficult days, I have hope - because Christ is my Lord and Savior.
So - all in all....through all the 'stuff' of people, and this life
I can stop now, and breathe.
Who matters?
My God.
He is faithful, and will see me through - broken and made whole because of what Jesus did, not because of anything I can do.

Oh, and about my son. I will keep his memory alive the rest of my days. I will talk about him, write about him, have pictures of him, and think about him. No question about it.
And  just so you know, it is normal. I've talked to the experts.

As for my blog....well here it is (drum roll, whistling and clapping will be acceptable here.) Thank you. Thank you very much.


 It's forward on this journey, now...

“We were promised sufferings. They were part of the program. We were even told, 'Blessed are they that mourn,' and I accept it. I've got nothing that I hadn't bargained for. Of course it is different when the thing happens to oneself, not to others, and in reality, not imagination.”
― C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

Chasing the Sun

There are dark nights, nights with no moon, no stars.
Times where tears fall, and pillows bring no comfort.
Times, when the clock ticks, the chime of the hour repeats hour after hour.

In those times I talk to God, I recite many psalms.
Eventually, slumber falls.

I wake, sometimes before dawn.
There are times when,
the minute my eyes open
I have to get out of bed.

There is an urgency as
I get dressed.
I have to go.....
I have to.

I grab my keys, hurry to my vehicle,
back out of the driveway and drive
east, on the country road and wide open spaces.

I drive in a sense of desperation,
my eyes peeled on the horizon.
I have to be there when it appears.
It's like my life depends on it.

When the bright beginning of a new day peeks over the horizon,
I gasp at the beauty.
I usually pull over and park, but
sometimes I keep driving, as if by driving toward it, I can get closer.
As if I can somehow reach out and touch a bit of eternity.

The brilliant, blinding, beautiful sunrise -
My Maker showing me a glimpse of His splendor.
reminding me of promises of peace, hope, joy.

One more day.
I can do it because He is with me.

Yes, that's how it is.
I have to chase the sun.
I have to experience the miracle of the day.

Whether I actually get in my vehicle and chase the sunrise,
or just go for a walk, and look up as sunlight smiles down on me,
I have to have His presence in my life.
like manna for my day.

The sun.
The Son.

A glimpse of the beauty around me, reminding me that He is
majestic, eternal, and full of life and light -
He knows where I'm at on this journey of life,
and He loves me.
He understands, and cares.

Ah, the smile of the sun.

Almost like I can hear my Father's voice.

"Ah, little darling," I hear Him say,  "Here comes the sun."
~Selah.

A Picture Worth Ten Thousand Words

I see your smile and the day brightens,
like sunlight through a window.

What a surprise when I scrolled down the page.
Seeing your beautiful face took my breath away.
My son, my wonderful son.

Seeing your smile, brought a smile to my face,
and it was as if.....
as if you were just gone somewhere for training,
or on deployment,
and you posted a picture with your buddy/brother to say,
"Hey, here I am! I'm doing well."

Refreshing and uplifting.
Your smile, the twinkle in your eyes,
the certainty of joy, and peace.
You were in your element,
loving life.

It brought peace and joy to my heart.

 I sat and enjoyed the presence of your smile,
the spirit of all you are,
right there in the image
that is you.

I scrolled down some more.
Shock.
The room began to spin.
I felt sick.
Another photo - with headlines
"Skydiving Training Accident."

It was like a bad dream.
How could it be?
There was the familiar aerial image -
the flag covering the body,
military brothers close by.

But, it happened two years ago.
Why would it be posted now?
It didn't make sense,
yet I knew what I was seeing.

I read the news report.
The date was yesterday morning.
There must be some mistake.
How could it be yesterday, when is was clearly a sad, familiar picture?

I continued reading.
The man was in the Navy.
That was not my son.
No, he was someone else's son.
In the same place,
doing the same thing,
when a malfunctioning parachute
ended his time here on this earth.

My heart broke for the family of this young man.
They would have gotten the knock at the door.
They would've heard the same words we
heard that early morning at one thirty, about Caleb.
"There has been an accident.
There was a problem with your son's parachute.
I'm afraid there was a malfunction...."

My world came crashing in once again -
At the same time I thought of the family, and the  young Navy Seal.

So close....
two elite groups of men train in similar places - Recon Marines and Navy Seals.
Different.
Yet, brothers.

There was some criticism out there about the photo.
It broke my broken heart.
Yes, it was terrible.
That was someone's son.

I know.

I saw almost the very same picture -
the flag covering the body, not that long ago.
It was hard.
It hurt a lot to know that was my son.
And yet,
from my perspective -

There was honor.
Not shame.

The American flag covered  his body.
What better way to protect, to respect,
to silence those who don't understand.
Nothing else would have sufficed.
The way it should be for any patriot who sacrificed his life.

There was honor in his life.
There was honor in that picture.

He gave his life for that flag.
He knew what that flag stood for.
He believed in what it meant.
He knew the history, the many thousands of
lives that were sacrificed for the
liberty that flag represents.

No, I didn't see it as shameful.
There are many things in this world that are shameful.
Many things that should not be shown, and yet are exploited
and nothing is said.

My perspective -

There was honor beneath that flag.
I salute my son.
I salute the young Navy Seal.

I go to sleep tonight
with a heavy heart for the family who is beginning this hard journey.
Yet, I am granted once more a glimpse of greatness.
I can see the smile on my son's face.
I see
the image of my son who could stand in peace and confidence, with a smile
because he stood for liberty, and freedom.

There is no shame in that.

March 6, 2013 - I Remember

It's been 739 days
since the last time Caleb and I chatted - his birthday, February 25, 2013.

Two years today, 730 days ago, we paid tribute to his life.
Somehow it doesn't seem like it's been two years.

It still seems like a dream.

I wake up and for a second it's like old times when we were all together.
Then, the next second, it hits again -
The rip-your-heart-out, gut-wrenching feeling...nothing is the same.
Missing Caleb so much.

Days like this, I swallow the big lump in my throat.
Tears come.
Memories.....

What I remember about two years ago -
Early in the morning, before the
'busy' started, I took Griz for a walk.
We walked to the funeral home so Griz could say farewell  to his buddy,
his master.
I stood before the flag draped casket, guarded by two Marines at all times.
Griz sat.
I put my head on the casket, covering the flag with tears.
"Thank you."
That was all I could say.
"Thank you Caleb. I love you."
"Thank you.
Thank you for being a wonderful son.
Thank you for caring about us.
Thank you for being so generous.
Thank you for the laughter.
Thank you for making us laugh.
Thank you for being in our lives.
Thank you for being so strong and brave.
Thank you for being my son....
Thank you for loving us, for loving God.
Thank you....."

All the while, Griz sat by the head of the casket.
Like he knew.
He sat at attention for Caleb.
I wish I had a picture of that.
But, it is forever in my heart.

From February 27 to March 6 there was a steady stream of visitors, phone calls,
food, flowers.
This day was just as busy.
As we were getting ready for the service, the doorbell continued to ring.

Two hours before the service we were to meet....at the funeral home?
I think so....
We followed the funeral car and honor guard to the high school where the service would be held..

When we got to the school,
students stood, lining the halls.
I will never forget.
I don't know who they all were,
but I am filled with gratitude for those who stood for
a few hours in silence, waiting for us to arrive.

It was like a dream, walking behind the flag draped casket....
a reminder of my son's sacrifice.
I'd seen this sad scene over and over in the news, in movies,
but this was not a movie - it was not someone else's life.
This was real life - my life.

I remember being back in the commons area before the service, after the casket was set in the gym.
I remember, crowds of people
coming in every door.
People coming from every direction with words of comfort - so heartfelt and sweet,
but it was too much at that time.
We needed a time away from the public.
The school secretary locked the door leading to the commons area,
so we could just 'be' for a few minutes before the service started.

I looked around, and Marines surrounded us.
What a comfort.
These were Caleb's brothers.

As we lined up,
Mark, Caleb's Recon brother, was right beside me.
The Marines walked in and sat with us.
I remember - I was firm on that.
They would sit with us.
They are family.

While waiting to walk in,
the words that poured from my heart at that time -
The joy of the Lord is my strength.
The joy of the Lord is my strength.
Over and over...it would be His strength that would get me through.

I remember Pastor Viergutz praying.
I think Psalm 23 was recited...anyway, I remember it was in my thoughts (that was the psalm my husband recited to me many times during those days and nights. He'd finish and I'd ask him to read it again and again.)

When we got to the door of the gym and I looked inside
at the flag draped casket, the flowers, the hundreds of people.
My knees turned to jello,
but just as quick, the Lord strengthened me.
My arm in Mark's, there was strength from him, from my husband, from so many prayers being said on our behalf.

The gym was filled with people standing in silence,
there to honor my son.

That was what it was about.
Honoring Caleb's life.

When we were planning the service,
we wanted  people to know Caleb.
If there was anyone there who didn't really know him,
we wanted them to leave with a knowing
about this wonderful son who lived life with purpose,
and wanted nothing less for others.

Since March 2013,
many people have told me they left the service feeling like they knew Caleb.
His life touched theirs.
He impacted and changed their lives.

I miss my son so much, and this is a difficult day,
but knowing his life lives on in all the lives he touched,
helps so much.

Yes, in the midst of the sorrow there is joy.
In a stream of tears there is a smile.

Thank you Caleb.
♥

Enduring Right On

Ok, I'm going to write this one and actually post it.
I promise.
I've written since November when I last posted a blog,
but all that writing is in my archives.
Not this one.....
You've got my word (words.)

Days go by.
Some are a little easier than others, but they all have heartbreak.
A couple of days ago I woke up with that ripping apart that was so intense
it was like it had all just happened.
It was like the earth opened up.
I cried out to God. "I can't do this."
He knows that.
Together we made it through the day.
Oh no one knew how my morning had been.
No one ever really knows - unless you're my husband,
and I know when I wake up in tears it makes him sad, too.

I don't know why it seems that I should just be over it, as one well-meaning woman said.
"Well, it's been well over a year...I'd think you'd be over it by now."
No lady.
That's not how it works.
When I said it was a rough day,
the response was, "Well, God will take care of it," and off she went.
Yes, lady, God will take care of it.
God has carried me through these hard times.
"You should just be praising God because you know where Caleb is."
I do praise God that I know I will see my son again.
But that doesn't mean it's easy being here without his smiley self in our lives.

I'm not mad at the lady.
She doesn't know.
There is no way, she could - she has all her children.
Bless her heart.

I just know where my walk is, and that is all I can handle - and actually, I can't handle that!
Not without my heavenly Father who give me strength and peace.

I don't know where this road is going.
I just follow it minute by minute.
Nothing is as it was.
Absolutely nothing.
I can't explain it, but that's where it is.
I know there is a purpose and a plan and a hope for tomorrow,
but I don't know a lot right now.
I don't know when I'll know more,
but I'll let you know.
It's not like I don't do anything -
it's that I'm getting acquainted with a whole new way of existence and
it does not conform to the twenty-four hour day we live in.
That's the best I can do for explaining.
It's as I said, a minute by minute walk - and it's unpredictable.

Today I thought I could talk about a memorial situation.
I started talking to some people and did all right for a little bit.
Then, I ended up in tears.
It just happened - they just started flowing.

Hearing Caleb's name in the same sentence as memorial
broke my heart all over again.
I left the building, got in my vehicle and started down the street.

A block later I had to pull over.
Sobbing rocked my soul.
My sweet boy....
My fun-loving son....

This is simply a most difficult road.

Not too long ago, I cried out to God
(I actually do that on a daily basis.)
There are times I get encouragement from that still small voice.
Not that time.
He was silent for a while -
like for weeks.
I kept on - hard day after hard day.
Then, one night I was watching football with my husband.
I heard that still small voice -
"Endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ (2 Timothy 2:3.)
I sighed.
It's hard all right.
But, when He put it in those words, I took a deep breath.
Those words were for me.
I could do it.
I could follow His lead.


Soldiers (Marines, Sailors, etc.) don't get entangled with the things of civilian life.
They follow the orders of their commanding officers.
They are trained for difficult situations so they can defend, protect, and stand.
They have to stay focused and continue training everyday.
They endure hardness.
It's not easy.
If it gets too easy, they will get soft, and they can't afford that.
They push themselves.
I know Caleb did.
He pushed beyond his own limits.
What an example.
My son.
He endured hardness as a good soldier of Christ.

Because of Christ, because of Caleb, because of all who have gone before,
I can.

No, it's not easy.
Some days, like today, I break down and cry.
My Commander Most High knows that, and understands.
Together we will make it.
I enlisted, and I'm in this for the long haul.
No, I had no idea this journey would mean my son would leave this world.
But, that doesn't change the plan.
Caleb got promoted to the highest of places - heaven .

I will continue
marching on -
tears and all...
enduring.

And
On that day -
I have no doubt,  he will be at the gates
waiting to greet me.