Blooming Farm Update

Welcome to my front porch.
On the doors, golden forsythia wreathes set off the yellow kalanchoe plants in the urns. The yellow is sunshine in a pot and healthier than prozac. Take a little walk with me to see what's in bloom. 

This forest goes on for acres behind the house. It will be a solid wall of green in a few weeks, but I am enjoying the lacy delicacy of the leaves right now.

A tapestry of brilliant reds, golds, greens and pinks. 

It's especially beautiful near sunset with all the dappled light shining through. 

The trees look like so many straight sticks right now, but soon we won't be able to see the sky through the leaves. 

The pond creatures are beginning to emerge, with turtles lining the banks to sun themselves. 

Near the bottom of the picture is the grandkids' swimming hole with a rope swing. It's like a big city pool, only much muddier and full of creatures!

These 4 weeping willow trees have all grown up from one fallen trunk. It's really beautiful and a nice symbol for our family. Even when something looks broken, new life can spring from it. I think of us all when I see it. 

This other willow tree by the shed is our Joey tree. It's got a missing branch, a gaping gash going all the way down one side. This tree is also thriving in spite of losing a big part of its self. 

The open field in front of our house is emerald. The marsh on the left is growing new cattails. 

But the show-offs right now are the bulbs. They have been grabbing the glory for several weeks. Oh my, these daffodils are gorgeous with the light behind them. 

I have a dozen pots of bulbs in the front, and another half dozen in the back of the house. I also have them at the entrance to our driveway and under the birdhouse. 

So beautiful--just overflowing. 

These saturated colors make me smile.

A princess. 

So beautiful  next to the steps and the rock walkway as the sun goes down.   

Peek-a-boo!

Out next to the barn, we have this old Coke machine that someone dumped in the forest  many years ago. (Grrr.) But we got a group of guys together and they dragged it out. It's all rusty and deteriorating and yet so gorgeous with the red tulips in it. The bucket on the ground next to it was found in a trash heap in the forest., too.  Flowers + recycled junk = beauty. 

The afternoon light on the tulips. 

And again from another angle, that also shows the cool side of the  house porch way beyond,  with all the rocking chairs, and the wishing well between the house and the barn. 

Glorious!

The screen porch is a new addition and I can't wait to furnish it. I am looking for comfy daybeds and a game table and shelves stuffed with snacks and board games and magazines and sparkling lights around the whole perimeter. This is my summer home.

Another view of the screen porch. So roomy!

The mosquitoes are quiet right now, but we will be ready for them when they descend. 

One more peek at the screen porch from the house porch with the wishing well in between. 

From a distance, on the right side of the barn and screen porch, you can see the garden too. I've got it all planted with flowers and veggies. Organic, too, but more about that later!

Back to the house. Our new black driveway is made up of recycled asphalt left over from one of the major road re-paves in our town. I love it next to our black and white trim and  the stone walkway. Country living means no concrete driveways.

The center of the circular driveway has a little island planted all in yellow. In the summer I am hoping for a beautiful display of hybrid roses, including one to climb up the little tower. This is one of my favorite spots for sitting and staring. 

Back to the front door across the way. We spend a lot of time doing this. Back and forth. 

And more daffodils. My camera can't resist them.

Signs

My friend, Karen Gerstenberger, recently released this incredible book. It's the story of her family's challenging journey through pediatric cancer, which eventually took the life of her precious daughter Katie. It is full of truth, wisdom, faith and hope, and I recommend it to anyone who is dealing with a long-term illness in their family, or with the death of a child. I have previously written about it here, and you can find other reviews and order the book here. 

I've been wanting to share my favorite part of the book since I first wrote about it, and finally have the time to do so. After Katie passed away, Karen experienced some phenomena that many bereaved people have reported experiencing in some form or another.  In her case, immediately after  Katie passed away, Karen felt a wind passing through Katie's room repeatedly, ruffling the pictures and posters on the walls, even though the air outside was moving in the opposite direction. She also describes another scene during which she was crying uncontrollably from  missing Katie so much, and a ball of sparkling light came down the hallway into her room and hovered in front of her bringing her comfort.  

I love that Karen shared these two stories. Though I would have been a profound skeptic before Joey died, and might have, upon hearing such a story, given a condescending smile and a wink to anyone else in the room, now I am not so foolish.  The new me is an open ear for all such stories, and I have come to call these common experiences "Signs". I have learned that many of us who have lost someone essential to our existence have experienced some customized version of our own signs-- reminders that despite their absence,  our loved ones are very alive and doing very well.

 I don't believe in ghosts, or restless spirits or any of the scary types of things you see in movies. The Bible says when people die, they move out of this world into the next one, so that is not what I am talking about here.  In our family's case, we have had repeated dreams of Joey that have brought us great comfort, even guidance on one occasion.  We have also experienced the appearance of cardinals over and over again in special moments, most recently last week when we went to visit Joey's best friend Kevin, and had a cardinal on a wire singing to us as we sat in the backyard on our first night at his house. At first I attributed these things to coincidence, but after the 10th or 20th time it happened, it was difficult to continue minimizing them. 

In the Bible, God gives lots and lots of signs, one of His most spectacular being a rainbow. So it's not particularly far-fetched that a loving God would comfort us with natural signs concerning our loved ones. I tend to think of it this way: the veil between earth and eternity is apparently a thin one. Moses and Elijah crossed it to visit Jesus on the mount of transfiguration. The veil was lifted so that others could see the invisible armies and chariots of God that were arranged on the hillsides in the midst of an Israelite battle. Stephen saw the throne of God and Jesus standing at God's right hand as he, Stephen, was being stoned to death.  There are numerous biblical accounts of people seeing Heaven, i.e., Daniel, Ezekiel, John. So yes, a thin veil. 

 Scripture also indicates that we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses--and those witnesses, made up of the angels of Heaven and those who have gone on before us, are witnessing the great cosmic spiritual drama being played out here on earth. So it's not a big stretch to imagine God, or our loved ones, seeing us here on earth, sensing our grief, and in certain moments, striking that veil in such a way as to send a burst of energy. And  that energy, on our side of the veil,  charges a cardinal or sends a dream or a wind or a ball of light into our room.  It reminds us that they and Heaven and eternity and God are not so far away as we think in our rootbound earthly way. 

So that's my theory. I don't see that it violates 

Scripture, though I will admit it is pure conjecture. How about you? Have you experienced a sign about your departed loved one? How do you explain it? What does it mean to you? Does it help you as it does me? Will you share it to give comfort, as Karen did? 

Glorious Flowers in Time Lapse Photography

Just in case you are having trouble believing in God right now, this will help.


The Life of flowers (Жизнь цветов) from VOROBYOFF PRODUCTION on Vimeo.

Matt 6:28-33
 See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 

Kindred Spirits

I love this lady. She is my delightful friend, Sharon. Her daughter Angie went to Heaven one month after Joey, and Sharon and I were connected in our grief by our dear mutual friend in Maui, Pastor Kit. He thought we might understand each other, perhaps as no one else could, and he proved to be right. Though we live miles apart in separate states, we have been corresponding every few days for over three years, and finding great comfort in simply sharing our days with each other. She flew out to see me last weekend, and we had a very sweet time together.

Angie

Sharon loves to cook, and one of her ways of finding comfort these past few years has been to cook her way through her days. She makes all kinds of delectable things and shares them with everyone who crosses her path, including us. She has sent us numerous care packages full of candy and treats for the holidays. I asked her if she would teach me how to make my favorite toffee and chocolate covered cherries while she was here, and she happily obliged.  She packed pounds of cherries and almonds in her suitcase, along with her jelly roll pan, and lugged them cross-country for me.

Here she is hand-dipping the cherries in chocolate. You can't imagine how good these are. If you are nice to me, I may make you some... yum!

All of these cherries are wrapped in white candy dough and then dipped. The juice of the cherries mixes with this white candy coating and emulsifies...i.e. melts together. When you bite into them, the most delicious juice fills your mouth and runs down your chin! You've never tasted anything like it.

An amazing creation!

Just one more look...you can see I am eating them almost as fast as I am making them!

Not only cherries! I also learned how to make homemade almond roca. It is magnificent. Or as my son in law says, it is "evil!". It is so good it devours your will power.

Sharon's other form of grief therapy is quilt-making. She brought me this beautiful fall-colored lap quilt with a fuzzy orange lining.  It is the 5th quilt she has made for us, and very much cherished along with the others. Sharon is a giver of the most generous type.

Sharon also brought five jars of homemade jam. She is probably the last woman in America who makes homemade jam, and I am lucky to know her. This stuff is good enough to drink! How do you spell love?

Pineapple habanero J-E-L-L-Y!

If you are a griever, I hope you have the comfort of a friend who completely understands. One who listens without judging, who weeps with you and for you, who might even fly miles to see you. Sharon and I are kindred spirits, brought together by our shared sorrow over our children. I like to think they have met in Heaven.  I need the sense of camaraderie provided by another mother who weeps. This difficult journey would be impossible without this beautiful friend who has walked the road with me.

2 Cor. 1:3-5

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.                                                                                                                                 

Labor of Love

Karen Gerstenberger

Karen is one of my most cherished friends. I have never actually met her, since she lives on the west coast while I live on the east coast, way across the country from one another, but our friendship surpasses the bounds of proximity. We were drawn together via the world of grief blogs, and her writing about her daughter's death so resonated with my own experience, that I became a follower of her blog. Not every bereaved mother can express the sorrow of my own heart, but Karen is one who can--eloquently and articulately. She has been an incredible support and safe place for me in the past three years and I am forever grateful for the Providence that brought us together.

She's spent the past couple of years working on a most emotionally challenging project: that of sharing the story of her family's journey with a child diagnosed with pediatric cancer. The book, her labor of love,  is called "Because of Katie", and I will link you to amazon so you can order it too. It is a tremendous resource for any family dealing with a child with chronic illness that requires hospitalization or significant life change. Karen wrote the book as a guidepost for those families and to sensitize the medical community to the trauma to both the patient and family of those whose lives have been turned upside-down by a diagnosis.

Karen systematically recounts her family's ten month journey through childhood cancer, from diagnosis, hospitalization, chemo,  and surgery, to  Katie's eventual death.  I could feel the intense stress of a family in crisis having to uproot and then relocate to a hospital; which then became, for all practical purposes, their new home --so much so that when and where to use the bathroom became a critical daily challenge. All that,  while simultaneously dealing with keeping the rest of life going--a home, a job, caring for a marriage, and the welfare and education of  the other child in the family. Underneath all that exists the ever-present harsh reality of a child who is terminally ill, who must cope with insensitive resident rounds, pain management, and the crushing fact of her own impending death.  Karen's honest reflections on her disappointments, heartaches, and fears would provide comfort and solidarity for any family dealing with the same. Her chapter on spiritual resources and quotes on faith from Katie's memorial are extremely helpful, and among my favorite parts of the book.  

Karen's suggestions for hospital personnel should make this required reading in medical and nursing school, and especially for hospital administrators who want to create the most healing environment. She has no axe to grind, only an insider's view of what works best. For the non-medical reader such as myself, this family's fierce dedication to their daughter was moving, and I wept my way through many of the chapters. Thanks to Karen's brisk and factual writing style, I  only had to lay the book down once to rest my heart.  These lessons cannot be learned anywhere but in the trenches, and so it is such a gift for Karen to re-walk that painful road to share them with us.

Beautiful Katie Gerstenberger

This beautiful creature is Katie, the heroine of Karen's book. She passed away a little over four years ago, but she has left behind a legacy of love, hope and insight for all of us.

We love and miss you, Katie.

I am sending all my love and comfort to her mama, Karen, and her whole precious family, and praying that this wonderful, helpful book gets into the hands of those who need it most.

Tomorrow I will share a story from the book that inspired me most of all...  

Rachel's Birthday

Rachel is truly one of the most beautiful creatures under God's big sky. We adore our daughter-in-love, our chosen family member, who though never a bride, is now, for all practical purposes, our son's widow. She is the silver lining in our story, and cherished by each and every person in our family. She has brought us all deep comfort by her presence, her love, and her courage. It's her 30th birthday and she is being surprised and celebrated by friends in California wine country this weekend. No one ever deserved it more.

We love you, Rachel. Thanks for travelling
the long and winding road with us.

May you be showered with the love
you so generously pour on all of us around you.

May all your dreams come true, precious girl,
and may God fill your heart with joy beyond words.

Psalm 30:5

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

Joy Comes in the Mourning

It started as a tiny, match-sized flame.
A tiny thought that underneath the heavy load of grief
it was okay.
It flickered in the wind
But it didn't go out.

It fed on truth and grew stronger.
There's a bigger picture, it said.
All will be well, it said.
He holds it all in His hands, it said.
Like a fire in a hearth
A place to warm my chilled hands and feet.

Will it be a bonfire someday?
Big enough to chase away the cold
and only strengthened by the wind?
I do not know.

For now it's enough.
I can sit next to it
and feel the peace spreading
inside, around my heart,
in my lungs,
breathing it in and out.
Warm. Safe. Quiet.
Not happiness...something better.

Joy. (Joey)

Things I Can't Do

My Birthday Dinner--Just Six of Us

I just had one of those weekends.

It was my birthday...and...

One of my son's dearest friends got married in California.

The son of his second mother...my dearest friend's son.

The ones who walked us through two memorial services and wept with us.

I so wanted to be there.

I had planned for months to be there.  

It felt like I should be there.

So many people I love all in one place.

But when the moment came,

 I just couldn't do it.

Couldn't force myself into it.

Hyperventilation, palpitations, throat constriction.

Happy occasions are dangerous now.

They rip the heart open, and create an emotional emergency, not unlike a medical one. 

Symptoms abound.

 I've worked so hard to paste my broken heart back together,

 to keep it beating,

and it's ever. so. fragile.

My birthday, without my son, is bad enough.

(bad, bad, bad.)

Being at a wedding with all his closest friends is more than I can bear.

Too many broken dreams all in one place.  

But I send my love, my gift, my prayers,

And thank them all

for their grace and compassion

in understanding

the weakness of a cripple.

Heb 4:15,16

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are - yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.

Another Year

Another year turns

Another twist in the heart

Another decision to trust the unknown

Another determined effort to go forward in spite of

Another year without you.

Blue Christmas Again

"It feels entirely impossible that I will live the rest of my life without my brother's physical presence. It feels like a horrible dream and a cruel joke." 

These are the words I read this morning from a precious friend on facebook. Another bereaved mother is inviting her community to a mass in her daughter's honor on Christmas Eve. Our new friends in Joplin, MO are suffering through their first terrible Christmas after the crushing tornado that killed so many. A precious Maui friend is experiencing her first lonely Christmas with her husband in Heaven, as many local Navy SEAL families here are facing their first tough Christmas morning without daddy.

My thoughts turn hourly toward many friends who are suffering loss this Christmas,  and one very precious family that is anticipating loss as they bravely wend their way through another Christmas with a terminal cancer prognosis. I worry about them all, and pray for them, and ask God to pour mercy on them. I have met so many broken-hearted people now, and know there is a whole, almost invisible, substrata of people for whom the Christmas holiday is truly excruciating. It's a fount of once sweet memories that has now become a painful reminder of deep, unrecoverable loss. Doug Coupland said, "Christmas makes everything twice as sad." There are no quick cures under the tree for these hurting people.

This is our fourth Christmas without Joey, and we are in an edgy, restless, unmanageable funk. You might think we would be used to it, but we are not. After 28 Christmases with our vibrant son, one who lit up our lives, we are not going to "get over" his absence anytime soon. It still cuts deeply and we are in a bit of a wilderness trying to be part of the holidays with our friends and church, but mostly longing to simply wander into a cave for a week or two and cry. It creates an unwieldy divide inside the soul.

Scripture calls death an enemy. The Bible  never glosses over death, or tries to minimize it in any way. It is the thief of everything that is good in this life--love, companionship, hopes and dreams--and the Bible tells the truth about it. But it also gives us hope that death will not be the end of the story. I cling to these words of Jesus:

John 10:27-29 “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand.”



And these from the Apostle Paul:

1 Peter 1:3-5 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you.



It's true that there is no quick cure for grief and loss, and it won't be fixed today or tomorrow. It does require a patient wait for the things God has prepared for us. But they are coming and that is our solid hope. I believe the reassurances about the world to come--a place where there will be no more death, sorrow, sickness or separation. My anchor is there. I lifted it out of the miry pit of this world, and sunk it into the solid rock of Heaven when my son left. My hope is there.
 
For now, we get through the days as we can. No small task, but we find our ways. My friend in CO bakes and quilts, my friends in OH preach, and my friend in WA writes and collects blankets for the children's hospital. We give as we can and no longer expect so much from this world. We weep with those who weep. We don't ride the wave of false joy that the television specials and commercials promote. We get in and out of stores as fast as we can. We don't relate to Jolly St. Nick or jolly anything else. Jolly is a thing of the past.
 
Rather, we endure like a runner in a marathon, for the trophy at the end of the race. We keep our "eyes on the prize" and ignore the distractions on the sidelines. We anticipate the party that will be had then--a true celebration, with true comfort and true joy. And best of all, the truth that makes it possible to survive this sorrowful world, we will all be together at the finish line.

Though it isn't easy, that, when all is stripped away, is somehow turning out to be enough.

“They that love beyond the world cannot be separated by it. Death cannot kill what never dies.” ~ William Penn

My Son's Handiwork

My son created this video as part of his ongoing ad campaign for Red  Bull in 2007. It's all for fun and I'll spoil it for you by telling you that Miguel del Toro is a fictitious character. I love the subliminal advertising with the pro surfers wearing Red Bull hats.  It's had over a half million hits on youtube.  He also did a Red Bull campaign with Shawn White, the Olympic  snowboarder. I posted about that during the last Winter Olympics.   

Just one more reason why I miss our kid so much.

Saying Goodbye to a Friend

John, Curt, Patti, Jeff

This is one of my favorite pictures of my friends, Curt and Patti. Curt went home to be with the Lord on December 4, after suffering through a brain tumor and treatment. He was a great man and a  pastor at our Maui Church. The following words are from a comment I wrote on his family's blog. We will miss you, Curt. All our love to Patti and the family.  

Fifteen years of sharing a men's group with Joe, week after week, year after year, Joe said Curt was a true friend and a support through thick and thin--one of the dearest friends of his life. One of my (Karen's) most cherished memories is of our son's Baldwin High graduation. Joey wore Maui casual: slippers and shorts under his gown, thinking he could outsmart the dress code of slacks, shoes, shirt and tie. Not a chance. They pulled him out of the line up and said, "NO slacks, no diploma". We were too far from Kihei to make it back in time. The traffic outside the stadium was snarled in a standstill. Nonetheless and without a moment's hesitation, Curt came to the rescue. Despite the fact that his own daughter was also graduating, he blasted out of the stadium, drove home, grabbed the necessary garb from his own closet and got it back to Baldwin High in the nick of time for our son to walk the processional with his classmates. I cannot see those graduation photos without seeing Curt, the man who made it possible.


Curt was a man of character, unselfishness, wisdom, strength, calm and determination. He seemed to intuitively know how to solve just about any problem--he'd seen it all. He was kind, friendly, and the best Sunday morning emcee I've ever seen. He knew how to take the cringe out an awkward moment and make everyone relax.


The last time I saw Curt, he was at the beginning of his cancer, in the hospital, post-surgery. Our trip to Maui coincided, and I was so glad we were able to see him. As we surrounded him in a circle of prayer and support, I saw one tear trickle down his cheek. That is my final and most poignant memory of him. I think he knew it was the beginning of the end of his life's journey, and though he was courageous, I think it was the realization that this was going to be his goodbye to all of us. We were so optimistic, and I only realize this now in hindsight. I am so glad I had that moment with that beautiful man. We will miss our dear friend, and know that Heaven is better for having him there--though we are poorer without him. Thank you, Curt, for being an amazing, good and faithful servant, and our friend.

Andrea Bocelli Sings "Time to Say Goodbye"

Lyrics translated:


When you are far away


I dream of the horizon

and words fail,

and, yes, I know

that you are with me;

you, my moon, are here with me,

my sun, you are here with me

with me, with me, with me.





Time to say goodbye. -- I'll go with you

to countries I never

saw and shared with you,

now, yes, I shall experience them.

I'll go with you

on ships across seas

which, I know,

no, no, exist no longer,

with you I shall experience them again.


I'll go with you.



I watched the "Andrea Bocelli in Central Park" PBS special tonight. Wept my way through this song--a mother's song. It filled me with sorrow, longing and hope for the world to come.
Hope this comforts some other mothers who are missing their beautiful children this Christmas, and for anyone missing someone essential...may God comfort each of you.

Suffering and Hope

What I encountered just last weekend:

 a young man's suicide while he was away at college,

a mother whose teen daughter was killed in an auto accident

at an uncontrolled traffic intersection,

a Missouri city ravaged by a freak tornado

and 116 random deaths,

our Maui pastor succumbing to brain cancer,

military widows and their children gathering together

at a hotel in West Virginia.

Every day, the bell tolls. Death, grief, loss.

It cannot be ignored.

It cannot be controlled.

It cannot be contained.

Resiliency.

 The ability to bounce back after trauma and loss.

The ability to scale a jagged mountain of shock, sadness, and sorrow,

 on your hands and knees,

and keep going

while knowing

there are yet more mountains

to be scaled.

I guess I can say now that I have it.

It requires endurance.

"I can do this for now."

It's based on hope.

"It won't always be this way." 

It relies on trust in the Truth Teller.

"If it were not so, He would have told me".

Rev 21:3-5

 I also heard a loud voice from the throne which said: "Behold, God's dwelling-place is with men, and he shall dwell among men, and they shall be his people, and God himself will be with them. He shall wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more; neither shall there be mourning nor wailing, nor pain, for the first things have passed away."
The One who is seated on the throne said:
 "Behold, I make all things new!"
And he added, "Write this:
'These words are faithful and true.'"

Thankful

Chase is back from Michigan.

Sean is back from deployment.

Reunited,  when so many are not.

All is as it should be.

Our cherished relatives have arrived.

Our wonderful nephew is here...

...with his beautiful family, and his parents, Don and Viv. (sorry, not pictured)

We also have the joy and honor of sharing the next few days with our dear daughter-in-love, Rachel, and her sweet Mama Layne.

Later today, a bunch of beloved friends will be arriving to share dinner with us.

We are all bound together by love and loyalty, faith and hope.

Crystal with her nephew, George, who is in Heaven with Joey. Our friend on the road of grief and joy.

For this comfort and these blessings, I give thanks.

God has been good to us. We are eating an enormous meal today, and know that's a privilege. We have enough to share with others, and know that's a responsibility. God has been compassionate toward us, and met every need.

His mercies have been new every morning of our past three years. We have cherished family, and new friends who have shared their love and lives with us.

We have new eyes and new dreams, and can see things we never noticed before. Our hearts have been tenderized. We have hope for the future, a different but better hope.  We know where our true home is--where our heart's desires will be found.

We know that life is brief, that we can bear sorrow and endure difficulty, and that is not the end of the story. We know there is a new world coming with no more tears.

I hope you all are comforted and encouraged by the goodness of God today.

Psalm 107:1 says, "Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good! For His mercy endures forever."