Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Fledglings

If you've been following my "Nest Watch", you may know that Mourning Dove parents share the childcare duties. The mother sits on the nest from dusk till dawn, and the father sits on the nest during the day. For the past two days, our birdy daddy has been increasingly absent. Hmmm. I'm not judging, but yeah, I noticed.

They are so sweet and adorable. They still have down-covered heads, but as you can see, their feathers are defined and growing with each day. Daddy Bird's absence has given me more photo ops, but frankly, I'm concerned. With Hurricane Earl approaching our shores, I'm anticipating stormy weather this weekend. If daddy isn't going to protect them when the wind and rains come, who is? I'm saying my prayers for our little babies cuz now I'm attached.

If anyone has any knowledge about a safe way to protect these hatchlings without disturbing the parent/child bond, I'd love to hear from you. They will be 2 weeks old on Saturday.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Babies!

We got another peek!
Mom and Dad are both gone, likely catching worms and seedy things to make bird milk for their babies.

So we nosed in with our camera, careful not to touch.
The babies seem completely unruffled by our intrusion.

They haven't been to survival school yet, so they don't know that they are supposed to be afraid of us.

They are getting little feathers, a process called "fledging". One more week and they will be "full fledged". Baby birds grow up fast.
Two more weeks after that, they are supposed to be out of the nest.
Seems awfully soon for something so little and vulnerable.
Stay, little birds, and I will take care of you.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Mourning Doves


Thank you, Robin, for correctly identifying our porch birds, especially from those small photos on my blog. It always impresses me when people can do that! I've done my internet research and found out some interesting facts about mourning doves, so I am sharing them with you here. Most of the information is from the Cornell University website called "NestWatch".

1. They are monogamous and mate for life. (For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer...just like Joe and I.)

2. The father sits on the nest during the day, and the mother through the night. So it's usually the father that we see during the day. One parent bird is always with the hatchlings. Sounds extremely nurturing and sensible. I especially like that the fathers do 50% of the childcare.

3. They are a common species and live all over our continent (so you probably have one or two around your own front porch. Hang a few baskets and see what happens.)

4. Their flight is fast and bullet straight. But they eat seed off the ground which makes them vulnerable to cats and other predators. Wisely, they prefer to build their nests off the ground.

5. Their soft drawn out coos sound like laments, hence their name. It sounds like "woo-OO-oo-oo".

6. The chicks are cared for by their parents in the nest for 25-27 days. So we figure they will be here for about three more weeks.

7. The chicks will fledge (get their flying feathers ) 15 days after hatching. Perhaps one more week till that happens. They are soft little balls of gray down right now.

8. Their nests are flimsy platforms of twigs and sticks, and they lay two eggs at a time. I had seen a loose nest in the basket, but figured it was from early summer and the birds were long gone. Not so. They re-used their own previously built nest. Recyclers.

9. They have two or three nests a season. That explains the late summer nest, and also them being here all summer long. And they may be back next year. Once they find a spot, they stick to it. Next time, I'll be paying attention.

10. Due to its frequent breeding, and wide range across the continent, "Zenaida Macroura" is not considered an endangered species. Oh good. I can relax.

Luke 12:6
Are not five sparrows sold for two pence? and not one of them is forgotten in the sight of God.

Monday, August 23, 2010

On Our Front Porch

Do you see that eye peeking out through the leaves?
That bird has been sitting in our geranium plant swinging on the front porch all summer long.
We thought he just had found the perfect little home and welcomed him by ignoring him.
Can anyone identify this beautiful grey bird with a slender black beak?

About 10 days ago I noticed that his eyes would widen as I got closer.
He seemed to go on high alert.


As I was absentmindedly watering the plant, the bird fluttered off in a big show of feathers and noise. It occurred to me to pull the plant down from its hook and take a look.
Duh. Call me a city slicker. Slow on the uptake.

Lo and behold, he's not a he, he's a mama! Of the first order.
Sitting on her eggs. Protecting them from the likes of us and our watering hoses.

Close-up of said eggs. As close as I dared anyway.
Notice the water spots.
Fortunately, eggs are nice and waterproof.

10 days later, today to be exact--babies!! Grey chunks of fluff!

Snuggling next to empty eggs. Beautiful little hatchlings, the same color as mama.
On our front porch. In our geranium basket.
My goodness, life is surprising!
A little thing like this can make your whole day.

Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?
Matthew 6:26

Thursday, August 19, 2010



Isaiah 25:8
He will swallow up death forever.
The Sovereign LORD will wipe away the tears
from all faces.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Mourning Another Birthday

Joseph Neal Johnson 8/17/79-5/22/08

I miss you, beautiful son.

Miss your presence here with us.

Miss your warmth and humor, your enthusiasm for life, your insight and interested mind.

I miss getting hugged by you. Tall tender hugs. No one hugs me like that anymore.

I loved being your mother. I felt so proud of you. I loved your vibrance--that red hair and those deep brown eyes and the radiant, ever-ready smile.

I miss the closeness we all felt with you, and the way you enjoyed being with us.

I miss traveling with you, meeting up at the airport someplace, and exploring the world through your lively commentary and alert eyes.

I miss my cultural guide, and your efforts to keep me properly informed.

You, my son with an opinion on everything, also listened.

I loved our talks.

Playing music with your dad, or talking investment schemes. Laughing with your sisters and brother-in-laws. Entertaining your beloved nieces and nephews. Surfing, eating, traveling with Rachel. Rushing at life with Kevin and JR and Theo and Josh and so many others. And music.

Your life was rich with the sound of melodies

rising up.

Your voice --a song.

Cut short.

I can hardly wait to open the door one day and find you standing there.

Radiant and alive.

I miss you so, beautiful son.

For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.
John 3:16

Monday, August 02, 2010

Pushing Forward


So much, since the moment my son died, has been a push forward. Push forward to make the arrangements, push forward to do a memorial service, push forward to pack up his house and the precious pieces of his life, push forward to get up the next day. Push forward to pack again, this time moving your own life cross-country. Push forward to unpack, resettle, begin again. Push forward while your feet are in concrete, your heart has stopped, and your life looks like a disaster film.

Pushing forward is what we do when we HAVE to do. Push forward is for painful but unavoidable things. It's not like running forward. That is reserved for pleasure, for the beautiful and the delightful things in life. Pushing forward is a discipline and an obedience. I can see how people weary of pushing forward and just let go. I get that. It's grim and tiring and relentless and sometimes seems pointless. What's it all for? We're all going to die anyway. (A newly acquired insight--I'm not sure how I missed that before.)

I have found new solace in a reminder from Rick Warren's book The Purpose-Driven Life. He gives a quick summary of life by simply saying, "life is a test, a trust and a temporary assignment". Easy to say, easy to remember, easy to mentally grab when I'm at a loss for direction. Basic. Helpful. Anchoring. Comforting.

The "test" part is easy enough to see. For me, right now, the test is whether or not I will trust the God who has declared His love for me, even though I walk a dark valley. Or will I only trust Him on the sunny days, when the cupboards are full and the car doesn't break down? In my heart and in my will, after the loss of Joey, I've re-made a decision to trust His good character. I believe Him when He says all things will ultimately work together for good. I've released my expectations of what He has to do for me in this life. I'm counting on Him showing me someday, detail by detail, how He wove my sad story into a bigger, more beautiful story of redemption. I'm trusting Him to turn my water into wine.

The "trust" part of my purpose-driven life is a little more complicated. It means I've been entrusted to do something good with the bad in my life. I can trust God to do good with bad, but can He trust me? Can the people around me trust me? Will I show them a way through suffering and loss that's honest but also hopeful? Will my life story kill their faith and joy, or will it build it? Will I leave them unsure, unstable and doubting, or will my story reassure them that their faith in God can carry them through whatever losses and trials life brings them? That's where I live right now. I still have more questions than answers, but I know what I'm wishing for. I'm reaching for hope, for the sake of my grandchildren, and my daughters, and anyone else who may be watching me. That is the engine that gets me out of bed when the clock strikes 7 am and I start another day of living by faith in the midst of crucial, unyielding disappointment.

The fact that life is a temporary assignment helps. That's the most comforting part of Warren's three-part equation. I couldn't live with an eternity of loss and grief, but I can live with a season of it. God was indeed merciful to make the average human lifespan short enough that we could get to the end of it, make the cross over, and then, after all that, find everything we'd ever been longing for on the other side of it. (Need I mention that this only inspires gratitude when it's not your child whose lifespan is short?)

I am thankful for the statistical brevity of my own numbered days. I feel I can make the journey. However difficult my days are here, I am certain there's something so very good waiting for me on the other side, and that gives me strength to bear the burdens of this life. In this moment, my work is unfinished. There are tasks and lessons and people with which I have been entrusted. I don't have a big, impressive plan, (wish I did) but I do want to sort it out and live the truth and give it my best. I do want to finish well.

And so, I push forward.


Philippians 3:14
I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

Friday, July 30, 2010

Mid-Summer Grandchild Update

It's a hot, hot summer, but the kids are managing to have fun anyway. Kids are like that.
All except this one.
He cut his Achilles tendon on a piece of broken glass while taking out the trash. Bad trash. Bad cut.
He earned himself a night in the hospital, and 3 months in a cast.
Hockey, his 5-day a week habit, is disappointingly off the agenda till the Fall.
So is swimming, surfing, and a full shower.

He's got a great attitude about it though.
Helped along, I think, by the X-box that was waiting for him at home.

Unless he has to pose for too many pictures. That makes him grumpy.

But he pulls it together for one more shot.


Back at the ranch, the rest of the kids are adept at finding swimming pools to cool down in.
This high-flying jump was after summer (read "sweaty") soccer practice.

And then there's the blessed miracle of water parks. We've got to kiss the feet of the fine folks who invented these things. Hours of cool fun in the too hot sun.

Smiling faces...

Cool refreshment...

Happy kids!
We are finding ways to get through our long, hot summer and look forward to the beautiful Fall season in Virginia. That's the very best time of year here. Still, it's so good to be near our grandchildren, no matter the temperature or the season. They truly make our life worth living.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

SUDEP in the New York Times

SUDEP, Sudden Unexplained Death in Epilepsy, was the syndrome that caused our son's death. We had never heard of this risk till our son was already gone. Not one neurologist in 16 years of treatment had ever mentioned it to us. There is a movement afoot to educate families with epileptic members of the risk. I was very happy to see that this article appeared in the NY Times. The story, unfortunately, is always the same, and ours parallels the Wulchin's almost exactly.

Unmasking Silent Killer in Epilepsy
The New York Times
By ALIYAH BARUCHIN
Published: July 26, 2010

On July 9, 2009, Steve Wulchin went to wake his 19-year-old son, Eric, in their home in Boulder, Colo. Eric had been given a diagnosis of epilepsy three years earlier, but other than that, his father said, "there was nothing out of the ordinary." His seizures had been well controlled; he had not had one in six months.

Yet that morning, Mr. Wulchin found Eric lying on the floor. CPR and paramedics were too late; Eric had died at about 2:30 a.m.

The cause of Eric's death was ultimately listed as Sudep, for sudden unexplained death in epilepsy. The syndrome accounts for up to 18 percent of all deaths in people with epilepsy, by most estimates; those with poorly controlled seizures have an almost 1 in 10 chance of dying over the course of a decade.

Yet many patients and their families never hear about Sudep until someone dies. Mr. Wulchin said none of Eric's four neurologists ever mentioned it to the family.

"The message we got back was, 'There's no reason why he can't live a long and normal life,' " he said. "It never occurred to me that this was a possibility."

Now, physicians, researchers, advocates and relatives like Mr. Wulchin, a technology executive, are trying to raise awareness about Sudep. One of their goals is to establish registries of deaths and autopsy results, building databases to support future research.

Sudep most often affects young adults, typically ages 20 to 40, with a history of the convulsive seizures once known as "grand mal." Others at risk include those with difficult-to-control seizures, or seizures at night; people who take a large number of anti-epileptic medications or take them irregularly; African-Americans with epilepsy; and people with epilepsy whose I.Q. is under 70.

Many victims die in their sleep, and their bodies are often found face down. That prone position suggests that they may have had a neural, respiratory or cardiac crisis - or some combination - that left them momentarily unable, like SIDS babies, to rescue themselves from suffocating.

"After a seizure, the person is in a dramatically reduced state of awareness, and even their reflexes are reduced," said Dr. Orrin Devinsky, director of the Comprehensive Epilepsy Center at New York University.

For most people, he went on, "once your airway's obstructed, you roll over. For people with epilepsy, they don't."

Epilepsy, wrapped for centuries in secrecy and stigma, has gained wide attention in recent years. Not so with Sudep; even neurologists who specialize in epilepsy sometimes feel that mentioning it to patients who aren't at high risk may impose too much of a burden.

"Whenever I speak to a group of colleagues about telling all their patients, it's controversial," said Dr. Elizabeth Donner, a neurologist at the Hospital for Sick Children in Toronto and co-founder of the advocacy group Sudep Aware. "People worry about having a negative impact on the quality of life of people with epilepsy if we tell them about this."

Mr. Wulchin and other advocates say this attitude needs to change, even in the absence of a concrete way to predict or prevent a sudden death.

"People go off and have babies knowing very well that SIDS could strike," he said. "People have surgery and they get the standard warning that there could be adverse reactions to the anesthesia to the point of a fatality. We deal with these kinds of ambiguities all the time."

Dr. Donner agrees. "People with epilepsy have the right to know that Sudep exists, and they have the right to be responsibly counseled about how to reduce the risk," she said. "And actually, that doesn't have to be a painful conversation."

Dr. Devinsky, at N.Y.U., says he often directs at-risk patients to Britain, which has been at the forefront of Sudep awareness. There, devices like mattress alarms and structured pillows are sold to protect against death in sleep.

But just as research into epilepsy has been hindered by stigma, experts and advocates say the silence about Sudep is making it difficult to explore causes and treatments.

"I think this needs to be part of our conversation," said Gardiner Lapham of Washington, D.C., a board member of the advocacy group Citizens United for Research in Epilepsy, whose son, Henry, died in 2008, at age 4. "The more people talk about it, the more people are going to be interested in getting to the causes of why this is occurring, and ultimately identifying ways to prevent it."

Last year, researchers at Baylor Medical College in Houston, led by Dr. Jeffrey Noebels, discovered that a genetic mutation linked to a type of irregular heart rhythm called Long QT syndrome could also lead to seizures - suggesting that Sudep may result from electrical disruptions occurring in the brain and heart together. And this spring, the team isolated a mutation on a different gene that may cause seizure activity in the brain to direct extra impulses through the vagus nerve to the heart, making it slow and, in some cases, stop beating.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Greg Laurie's Grief


Pastor Greg Laurie lost his son, Christopher, (on the right in the photo) two months after we lost Joey. Today is the anniversary of that day and the words below are taken from his facebook page today. He speaks for every bereaved parent in his words and so I wanted to share them.

We have been deeply comforted by him many times in the past two years. I am so sorry for his loss, yet so grateful that we've walked this road together. I don't know him personally, though I have heard him speak a couple of times at the Harvest Crusade in Honolulu. He is wildly popular, with 40,000 friends on facebook, and a gifted evangelist, drawing huge stadium crowds every summer, all over the country. He is the aging Billy Graham's heir apparent, and in the real world they are very good friends. I do know that he has been an anchor for us in the two years since Joey went to Heaven. He has always been an anointed preacher/teacher, but now even more so because he has increased credibility through his suffering. I highly recommend his blog and facebook page and that of his wife, Cathe Laurie. They always have inspiring things to say.

So with that introduction, I share these honest, heartfelt words from a grieving father with you.

"At first, people would approach with often clumsy attempts at offering sympathy. Other times, they would say just the right thing.

But after two years,very few people say anything at all. Only a handful. Perhaps they don’t know what to say.

Many will ask how a grieving person is doing. Are they over it yet? May I answer for all people who have lost loved ones, especially children?

No. We never will be “over it,” so please don’t ask that, if you please.

Some well-meaning but misguided Christians might say, “Don’t be sad. They are in heaven!” You must have never lost a loved if you say something like that. We know they are in heaven, and frankly, we want them here with us on Earth. So, we are sad.

When the apostle Paul’s friend and fellow worker Epaphroditus fell gravely ill, Paul wrote in a letter: “Indeed he was ill, and almost died. But God had mercy on him, and not on him only but also on me, to spare me sorrow upon sorrow” (Philippians 2:27 NIV).

So even Paul, who certainly had a strong faith and his theology straight, could hardly bear the thought of being separated from a close friend by death.

Are we getting through it?

The answer to that question is yes. Some days are better than others.

The most random things can trigger vivid memories that we did not even know were stored in the vaults of our imaginations. But like little home movies, they play out, and it both comforts and saddens.
But the thing we cannot do is forget. Nor do we want to, even if remembering causes pain.

Yes, our pain is deep, but know this: God is deeper still. He has kept His promises to me and my family. He has been there for us each step of the way, though it has been so very hard.

So we do not sorrow as those who have no hope. But we do sorrow. And we will continue to shed many tears. That’s because our love continues on for that person that has left us."

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Our New Sidewalk

I just love a central sidewalk leading to the front door. Mostly because I hate weaving on the skinny edge of a driveway, trying to avoid the dirty cars brushing up on my clothing as I squeeze my way past to get to the door. So in the past couple of weeks, we hired our neighbor Zach and his friend Jake to create this curvy and functional brick pathway for us.

Isn't it just beautiful! We couldn't be happier with their fine work.

Here's the dynamic duo after a hard day's labor in the blazing hot sun.
To say the least, this is not for the weak or wimpy.

Zach also mows our lawn every week and he is in such great demand in the neighborhood, he seems omnipresent sometimes. I'll tell you why. He's honest, reliable, bright, polite, respectful, and has an incredible work ethic. He is 16 and is as hard-working as most grown men.

His dad and mom have a lot to do with that too. He's been raised well and he is just like them. Truly wonderful, generous, salt-of-the-earth people. His dad has been going through chemo and radiation for the past year to rid himself of a brain tumor, and this family has shown tremendous faith and courage in the battle of their lives. I am kind of in awe of them all, as you can tell. I am also very happy to report that Zach's dad's treatment has been effective and the tumors are shrinking.
We are so blessed to have these amazing people as neighbors.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Words to Live By

My son was a gifted writer. He wrote a very long and extremely entertaining blog along with Rachel about their one year Northern Hemisphere van trip. He wrote an occasional magazine or news article critiquing music or politics. But mostly he wrote bits and pieces. He wrote a smattering of journal entries, lyrics to his music, some poetry, and lots of witty, even hilarious emails and blackberry chats on whatever pertained to the docket of the day.

His writing is mostly funny, but now it's become poignant. His list of what he was thankful for on his last Thanksgiving, an April Fool's Day gag in which he told us that he was going to sail around the world, his emails on his last day of his earthly life--all of them are packed with new meaning for us now. In one email he told a friend that his mother (me) always believed him and that it made him feel good. It made me feel all warm inside to simply read those feelings that I hadn't known. In most of his snippets he is expressing affection to friends or family. He poured out a lot of love on people through his words and that is a gift that keeps on giving as we re-visit those words.

So I'm starting a new project. I am gathering up his words and putting them in a scrapbook. I plan to include pictures of the people, places and things about which he wrote. That way, on those days when the missing is so intense, we can pull it out and "hear" him speak to us again.


Proverbs 12:18
Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.

Thursday, July 08, 2010

I Corinthians 4:18

So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.

For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.


Philippians 3:20

For our citizenship is in heaven,

from which also we eagerly wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ...





Monday, July 05, 2010

The Light Show

Seems like half a million people showed up at the beach to watch the fireworks. Here we are, part of the teeming masses waiting expectantly.

I never tire of fireworks. They are always exciting!

They put on a pretty good show down at the beach. Nothing like the one on tv with the Boston Pops, but this one was live!

And the light show in the streets below as people left.
Oh, how wonderful to NOT be in that traffic jam.
A beach hotel on the 4th--priceless!

Sunday, July 04, 2010

Beach Beefcake!

Our hotel has this very cool rooftop pool.
Lots of entertainment value.
Grandson and friends on bikini patrol.
(Not Papa--he's occupied on his droid)


I couldn't resist these 4 guys showing off their (ahem) national pride...

...and the rear view, too!


Son-in-law and a mai-tai in a rare state of utter relaxation...


...and gorgeous cross-fit daughter having fun in the sun.
As I said, lots of entertainment value.

Happy 4th of July!

We are staying at the beach for the 4th of July and I woke this morning to the sounds of a worship band playing. I looked over my 14th floor balcony and was surprised to see this large group of people gathered for the worship service below me. The music was good and Joe and I sipped our tea on the balcony and enjoyed the vibe. I was touched when they sang "God Bless America" and surprised to hear the crowd join in. I thought,
"freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom of assembly"--all in one little package below me.
What a perfect 4th of July morning, and the fireworks are still to come!

Last year we visited Philadelphia and saw many of the symbols of our American Revolution. Here Joe stands next to the flag that united the colonies to sign the Declaration of Independence. What wisdom and foresight our forefathers displayed. I am forever humble and grateful for the privilege of being born an American.

In a museum dedicated to Benjamin Franklin, his words shine on the walls and still ring true. I would love for Congress to heed his words. I think I speak for most Americans when I say it's often a place where there is way too much talk, and a disappointing lack of action.

Nonetheless, we love our country and its history and its symbols. This is Independence Hall, the place where our founders signed the Declaration of Independence, starting the greatest experiment in democracy that the world has ever known. It's imperfect and unfinished, but it's still the best thing going on the planet. I am in awe of those who conceived the dream of creating a free society, and for the good our country does for the entire world.

This symbol outside an art museum in Philadelphia says it all for me. Despite its flaws and weaknesses, its divisions and unsettled wars, I deeply love my country.
God bless America.

I hope you all enjoy your 4th of July celebration. I can't wait to sit on the beach tonight, and look up at the sparkling explosions in the night sky, and see the reflections of the falling stardust on the ocean below...and ponder again the wonder of the place we call the Land of the Free.
Pictures tomorrow.




Those who expect to reap the blessings of freedom, must, like men, undergo the fatigue of supporting it.
Thomas Paine

Saturday, July 03, 2010

At the Oceanfront

We just arrived and we were starving. Here's the view, peaking out from our cozy lunch spot.
Crab salad...sashimi...yum....

After lunch, we visited giant Mr. Neptune. Isn't he handsome?
Behind those beach cabanas? People. Lots of them.
See what I mean? Still, it's gorgeous. Our hotel is gorgeous, the view is amazing, and we are having a wonderful 4th of July weekend all together.
Just what I needed.