Prayers

People praying for us at Joey's Maui memorial service in June 2008

I just found this picture. I forgot I had it. It touched me so much to see all these people surrounding us in prayer. I can't make out all the faces in the crowd, but I recognize some of them very well. My mother and I are near the center of the picture with leis on our necks. Joe is out of the picture, on stage, and to the left of me are my daughter and her husband. Rachel and her family are next to the stage on the right.  It is mostly a sea of unidentified loved ones gathering on our behalf, supporting and loving us, and holding us up to God. 

The first thought I had is that two of the precious people in the picture have gone to Heaven themselves since this was taken. I also see one of Joey's closest friends with his head bowed for us, and next to him another  "brother from another mother" . I see my daughter's best friend near us with her beautiful blonde hair. And though I am not certain who the boy is whose head is bowed on the stage, I am so moved by his obvious concern for us. 

These prayers were needed. I was broken, and for the first two years, I seemed to get more and more broken with each new day. As my new reality sunk in, I sunk down. It seemed the pit of grief had no bottom. I had no strength.  My skin hurt, my chest ached, my brain was high-jacked by anguish and sorrow. I cried every day and at every mention of Joey's name. The prayers were needed. 

It takes faith to live through the loss of a child. I didn't have enough of it when I started this journey, but I have grown into it. My peace has grown as God has comforted me a hundred different ways. I know God better now than when I started down this road, and I also know I only touch the surface of who He is. I am glad there is One bigger than me who can hold me, help me, and heal me. I am in His hands. 

These are some of the people who put me there. 

Overflowing thanks to all who have prayed for us.

 Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

Hebrews 4:16

Lessons on Memorial Services

The fifth anniversary of our son's death is in a few months, and I feel its approach with a sense of impending doom. I am bracing myself months in advance, which I guess means the doom is already here. It's almost as if I am standing before a firing squad that is loading its weapons to take aim and the shot is coming. That is strangely violent imagery, to be sure. But for anyone who's lived through the death of a child, they would likely agree that it's a pretty accurate picture of the dread involved with anniversaries.

Even though I have been through four previous anniversaries, I am sometimes still filled with incredulity.  Could it really be five years? Did all this really happen?  Strangely enough, I, at times, have had to look at  pictures from those days just to convince myself.  A few days ago, in one such moment, I revisited the pictures of my son's memorial service. I haven't been able to look at those particular pictures since they were taken. The reason for that? Some of the people had smiles on their faces and it crushed me that they could smile in the midst of my devastation. Mind you, I also had a smile on my face in many of the pictures. But mine was fake as silicone, plastered on under the imaginary caption of, "Isn't she strong and together!". Actually I was coming apart at the seams; no, at the molecules. I was like a cartoon character that gets hit by a bat, then cracks from top to bottom and in the next frame crumbles into a pile of rubble.

The smiles got to me. The first time I saw the pictures, they told me that people didn't really understand; that our loss wasn't that big a deal. And so with fear and revulsion I put them away and decided not to look at them ever again. The other day, almost five years later, I gathered my fortitude, and I opened those pictures. I saw something I didn't expect, something I hadn't seen before. Sad eyes, drawn expressions, serious unexpected sorrow in the faces of our friends.  Yes, there were some smiles, but mostly just polite social smiles. This time I saw that there was shock on people's faces, and sorrow and urgency and compassion. I sobbed... and I felt relief, and deep comfort. I could see something that I wasn't able to see the first time I looked at those pictures, when I was out of my mind crazy with loss. It made me want to thank everyone who came to stand by our sides...all over again. And if you are one of those reading this... from my heart... Thank. You. Again.

The world of grief is a strange country where the social rules change. Smiles are not the most valuable currency. Hugs are.  The best gift you can give?  To tell the bereaved parent that their child was beautiful or funny or special, and made a difference in your life--then name a specific way or memory. The second best gift? Simply showing up. It matters for a long time, and your absence hurts. The most precious words that can be spoken?  "I will miss him/her and never forget them. They are a part of my life forever." When all else fails, this works, too:  "I am so sorry for your loss." or "I am hurting for you and cannot put it into words."

I still need to hear those words five years later. I will never tire of them. It is an awful pressure feeling that time moves on and therefore so must I. A grieving parent can never move on from the loss of their child...it violates the core of parenthood and feels like abandonment. So instead you carry them with you wherever you go, like a backpack full of gold. It is a heavy load, but so precious.

This old 30's movie theater in Hollywood is the home of my son's church,  Ecclesia Church,  and the place where we held one of his memorial services.  It was originally called the Hollywood Pacific Theater and was the home of the Academy Awards for many years. 

These letters are original, inlaid into the terrazo floor and they stand for Hollywood Pacific. 

Using black tape, this is what our friends made of those letters.

The sad faces of our friends. 

I am not sure who even took these pictures. They just ended up in our possession.

Three brothers with whom my son grew up.

Dear friends for many years. 

I held Joe's and Rachel's hands. Human touch is so important at a memorial. 

The serious crowd, full of my son's friends and many unfamiliar faces, still  means so much to us. 

Hugs... 

...never underestimate their power.

Sometimes words just can't do justice to a moment.

The eyes say it all. 

Group hugs give strength.

Mayor Rudy Giuliani made a wise statement after 9/11, and I have come to understand its meaning in a personal way.  Upon being questioned after attending every single memorial service for those who had died, he said, "You can miss a wedding, but you cannot miss a funeral". It is so much more important to be there at the saddest moments in someone's life, than in the happy ones. 

Oh, the lessons I've learned. 

Romans 12:15
Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.

Fallen Heroes Memorial Ride

Today is the one year anniversary of the loss of 31 troops in a Chinook helicopter in Afghanistan last August. There were Navy Seals on board, plus support crew, and even a military-trained dog, and all lost their lives  as their helo was shot down by Taliban. It was the single largest loss of troops since the war began after 9/11.

And heartbreaking.

This one was particularly personal. These were my kids' friends.

On Saturday, I attended a memorial motorcycle ride to honor the fallen heroes of August 6, 2011. There were at least a thousand motorcycles that took part in the 23 mile, police-escorted ride to the oceanfront. I didn't ride, but my husband and daughter did.  I just loved being part of the crowd.

Daughter and Daddy.

At least half the thrill of an event like this is seeing who else shows up.

I will share some of my favorite shirts and vests. They each tell a story.

The Patriot Guard are the people you see on CNN who ride in military funerals to protect the bereaved families from extremists and pseudo-religious protesters. 

I expected to see the soldiers who lost their friends, and the widows and the children of the fallen and people like me. I didn't expect to see so many different ages, races, creeds, and motorcycles in one place! It was awesome! There were at least a thousand motorcycles there. Let your Harley roar!

There were a number of Christian motorcycle clubs. Not your typical Sunday pew sitters.

The Vision Riders. Loved it.

This one is a flag with all the  names of the fallen written on the stripes. 

This guy is a veteran of other memorial rides. 

This one specifically honors Kevin Houston, one of the fallen. The Navy Seal motto is "Long Live the Brotherhood", the words on the shirt.

Here a veteran proudly displays his service to his country.

This one specifically honors the SEALs who gave their lives. Absolute heroes.  

This was one of my favorites. Such colorful embroidery. The words say, "Never forgotten"

This gal was a vet, and  though most of the women rode on back of bikes, there was a good crowd of cute biker chicks who rode their own bikes. 

This was another favorite.  A Jewish motorcycle club called 'Guns and Moses"! 

The fallen were honored by two members of the Boston Police Department Bagpipe Column. They were dressed in full regalia to play their bagpipes for the exit of the  entire stream of riders. The Navy SEALs have forged a bond with first responders in NYC and in Boston. They have shared the burden of the losses of 9/11. These guys were pretty cool.

They played the entire time as the two mile long motorcycle caravan left. There are few things as stirring as listening to "Amazing Grace" on bagpipes. The 31 flags in the ground next to them represent the fallen. 

The Navy color guard lined the exit of the shopping center. Before the ride began, they were washing naval officers'cars in the parking lot. Making good use of their time. 

My daughter JoAnne and her friend Julie rode side by side the whole 23 miles.
Both of their husbands lost dear friends last year. 

JoAnne rode with her dad. Look at the long line of motorcycles behind them. The police blocked every intersection for 23 miles so they could pass through. My husband loved being able to run the red lights with impunity for the first time in his life. 

One of the last to leave, this patriotic woman was part of the color guard. She has the names of each of the fallen Navy SEALs attached to her vest. 

Along with many others who have given all. 

Joe and JoAnne head out for the ride, with their buddies by their sides. It was such a memorable day, being there, watching the crowd. I was part of a grateful nation paying homage.

The proceeds from the event will help these families as they forge a new life without their beloved and heroic husbands and fathers. 

"Long Live the Brotherhood"

Joey's 4th Anniversary

We all gathered at the farmhouse for dinner.
 It's been four years since Joey went to Heaven, but this annual ritual is as important and necessary as it's ever been.
My big, tall, handsome grandson,  Chase,  twirls the soccer ball as he awaits the arrival of family and friends.

We had a downpour while waiting, and everything looked wet and fresh and beautiful outdoors. 

The pond is full of turtles and fish, and often times the kids are in it too, but not this day.

Rachel, our daughter-in-love,  arrived and took a peek outdoors as it rained. 

Rachel has been with us faithfully on every anniversary and we love her as our own. 

Our dear friends and Maui pastors, Craig and Kathy, made the long journey to be with us. Such a precious gift to have them here. We were with these dear friends on the night we learned that Joey had died. 

Jaime and Aidan (with board shorts and a towel on his arm) are discussing the advisability of him jumping in the pond at this moment. 

Everyone is glad to be together. On the right is my blue cabinet that holds many of Joey's precious things. 

JoAnne and Rachel look on as Joe thanks our friend Christian for bringing catered dinner to our house. Christian was out in the deluge picking everything up for us. He also brought lots of beautiful flowers. Though I love to cook, this is not a day when I choose to be preoccupied in the kitchen. 

Drew and Sean chatting...unfortunately I caught Sean in motion. But please notice the Joey tattoo on his bicep. Birds are one of our symbols for Joey. We all have a tattoo in Joey's memory.

Delicious Italian catered dinner all set up on the kitchen counter, next to a pitcher of fruity sangria.

I set the table, Thanksgiving style, with river rocks and candles down the center. Joey was a nature boy, so it seemed fitting. 

We all sat down together to eat. Aidan is being a little silly with his spaghetti noodles.

Everyone but Kathy, the photographer, made it into this shot. 

 

With such a large group, it's hard to get us all in at once. This one misses Clare and Kathy.

After dinner, we watched the video from Joey's memorial service. It's never easy to get through, but we want to keep his memory alive, especially for our grandchildren who were so young when he went to Heaven. 

Lots of tears. Missing our beloved son, brother, uncle and friend. 

As our evening ended, we tried to hang on to this moment with a snapshot. Bad lighting in back, so we try again.

Here I am peeking from behind Jaime; Kathy took this shot, so she is missing. 

 

Sean steps out and takes this one so both Kathy and I can be in the same shot. So in three photos, we were able to get everyone. Notice Joey's sailing picture in the background on the wall to the left. So nice to have him with us in these shots. We didn't notice till we looked afterwards, so it made us smile.
The veil between heaven and earth is a thin one.
We love you, Joey, and can't wait to see you again.
~xox~

An added gift to my week was being able to meet my dear friend Chris. Her daughter Sarah went to Heaven a few months before Joey, and they were the same age. Chris and I both experienced the sudden death of our children. She is from Ohio, and a fellow blogger. Before this moment,  I had only ever known her through my computer. She and her husband were in Virginia for a cool motorcycle vacation, and I jumped at the chance to meet her.  She has been an integral part of my bereaved mother's fellowship, and a huge comfort to my heart these past three years. She has a steady faith in God and her beautiful poetry and pictures always speak to my heart. Her blog can be found here at  True North.  

The next few days were spent playing together. Joe and Craig took the canoe out to a Back Bay lake. Kathy hilariously captioned this one, "What could go wrong?"

We also took the pontoon boat out several times, just to be on the water and take in the natural beauty. Nature is a great salve on a broken heart.

But finally, our gathering came to an end. Here is another in our large file of pictures of Rachel being dropped off at the airport. Rachel's love and presence have been a huge comfort to us, over and over again. What an amazing girl our son loved.

 With Rachel gone, we set off for a few days on a road trip to NYC with Craig and Kathy.
Maui people love road trips. They don't get to do that there. In this sunset shot of Joe and Craig, we are on the Lewes-Cape May Ferry that runs between DE and NJ.

Two hours later at the Lobster House in Cape May, NJ

 Maine lobster is a particular East Coast thrill. Lobster is Craig's favorite food group. He's even got the bib to prove it.



 In the beautiful Victorian seaside town of Cape May, we stayed at the Congress House hotel. It's a gorgeous historic hotel, a reminder of a bygone era.

On our first day in NYC, we visited the new 9/11 memorial site. It is a poignant and moving place. This tree is the pear tree that was the lone survivor of the explosion and fire. And even though it was shrivelled to a root ball, it came back.  It is a resurrection tree. I bought a necklace cast from a petal on this tree. It has a peridot at its center--my son's birthstone.

 Here Kathy points to Todd Beamer's name on the memorial plates. The names are not raised lettering, but actually cut out of the bronze. They are a symbol of absence. 

Inside St. Paul's church, there was a memorial to the police officers who were first responders. These are patches from police departments all over the country. The entire church is now a memorial to the first responders and workers who dug out the site after the tragedy. They continue to have Sunday services in this room. 

Craig and Kathy stand outside the church doors. The church served as a base of operations for rescue and cleanup in the two years after 9/11. The congregation provided food and shelter to all the World Trade Center workers. What a blessing this congregation was to the people of NYC. 

We took a bike ride through Central Park. We are standing in front of the Angel of Bethesda fountain. The angel is so beautiful. The Bible story of the pool of Bethesda says the angel would come to those in the pool with healing in her wings. 

The Angel of Bethesda Fountain, NYC

 

Sitting together at the lake. We've been best friends with these dear people since we were all newlyweds, 37 years ago. We had our children together; our daughters are best friends; they helped lay our son to rest. 

Truly precious friends. 

More Central Park beauty--another set of twin towers.

When we got tired we took a nap in the park. This was our view looking up. We need to look up more.

 Central Park vagabonds.

 After the park, we made a run through the Metropolitan Museum of Art. This is one of my favorite pieces there. It depicts the angel of death stopping a young artist as he paints. It so reminds me of my artistic son, cut short in the midst of his most fruitful years.

We had an enormous gourmet breakfast at Norma's, the iconic luxury breakfast restaurant in Midtown Manhattan . That is my breakfast of eggs benedict with asparagus and fingerling potatoes. We were holding hands, about to give thanks as I snapped this shot. We all cleaned our plates. 

 After breakfast, we ran over to Times Square Church founded by Dave Wilkerson, famous for his work with the street gangs of NYC. He lead many of them to Christ. This multi-cultural church is grandly housed in a lovely old Broadway theatre.  The choir totally rocks it and it's a treat to watch and listen.  I cried listening to this worship music.

We ended our fabulous trip with a Central Park carriage ride. The park has another kind of beauty after dark, and we loved having one more roll through the verdant spaces. 

The amazing Times Square. There's nothing like it in the world.

Finally time to go, we are packed up and leaving our hotel. We were sad to drop Craig and Kathy at the airport, and bring our poignant visit to an end. We are so very thankful for friends and family.  They walk our dark valley with us and bring great comfort to our hearts.

We are blessed.