Dinner and chores

Last night around the dinner table, we were brainstorming possible “menus” and divvying up supper-related chores. The game plan was to think ahead about what we’ll have for dinner in the coming week and assign chores so that everyone knows what to expect – and what’s expected of them. I couldn’t resist these kid-isms that came up during the conversation from my oldest:

He was making suggestions for the menu: “Italian day, breakfast supper day, Mexican day, Crockpot day, grease day …”  We asked what was grease day? Fried food? He said, “You know, like lamb chops and stuff.” My husband clued in more quickly than I did: “Ohhh, you mean Greece day – Greek food.”

Then, we went around the table for volunteers for the various chores. I suggested that we start with the little one and go in reverse age order for the first round. The oldest said, “Yeah – least to greatest.” 🙂

One month

It has been exactly a month since my ”big-little” brother died. It is as heavy on my heart as if it happened this weekend. I’m reminded of when a newborn baby turns one month old, and you realize that the past 31 days have been a semi-conscious blur of functioning somewhere between grogginess and sleepwalking.

On some levels, we’ve made great strides toward healing and trying to discover what a new sense of “normal” is supposed to be like. Talking the boys through some of their thought processes has helped me a lot, because it brings to perspective their childlike faith and reminds me not to over-think things.

At other times, I function one hour at a time, because everything around me reminds me of him, and I feel suffocated with grief.

Hanging out in Heaven

Hanging out in Heaven

Yesterday, my middle one made a very insightful remark as we were looking at some pictures of my brother: “This must be really tough for you.” Pretty intuitive for an 8-year-old, eh?

He also drew a picture for me (linked above). It’s a picture of Uncle Nathan meeting Moses and some angels. We’ve decided that God probably doesn’t have any computers that he needs help with, so Uncle Nathan is likely enjoying some time hanging out with famous people from the Bible. (And eating lots of Granny Fanny’s banana pudding!!)

overhead press

The guys were helping to take out the trash earlier this week, and the middle one paused on his way to the front door. He lifted a trash bag by the tied handle and with a grunt befitting an athlete in the weight room, overhead-pressed it as high as he could reach. His strong little arm quivering from the weight of the bag, he exclaimed with a proud grin: “Look! I’m Uncle Nathan picking up the boys!”

I’m so glad that they have happy memories to share. It helps to heal my aching heart to hear them share funny stories – like when Uncle Nathan would take turns holding their clasped hands and performing overhead presses in Nana & Granddad’s kitchen, to the amusement of all of us. They would clamor for turn after turn, and he got quite a workout lifting those boys with one arm apiece!

Nathan could always be counted on to praise physical achievement. When I was doing an exercise study for the university, I would call and report my newest “max” record, and he was genuinely interested and enthusiastic. When I reached my highest leg press of 735 lbs, he didn’t flinch when I said that someday, I’d like to be able to do 1,000 lbs. He had confidence in me and made me feel like I could really do it.

plum tuckered out, physically & emotionally

Right now, to be perfectly frank, I’m dealing with some angry feelings toward my brother. I guess it’s the same way you might feel about someone who was in a car accident and died b/c they weren’t wearing a seatbelt. The accident wasn’t their fault, but it was perhaps preventable, in a way. You’ll never really know. That’s how I feel right now – that if he’d been more careful, it wouldn’t have happened this way. Logically, I know it’s pointless to rehash the coulda-shoulda-woulda scenarios, but that’s what’s weighing on my heart right now.

It was also pretty difficult to go through and pack his belongings this weekend. Besides being sore & tired from lugging boxes, it was emotionally draining. I just stood in his closet for a few minutes by myself and smelled all his shirts. I turned on his iPod and listened to his music.

I want to hear him laugh and then set his elbow on my head and call me his “little-big sister.”

I want what I can’t have.

“D’oh” moment

There might not be anything more humbling than to be teaching a Bible study or leading a discussion on spiritual matters and have a truth from God’s word smack you upside the head in mid-sentence. That happened to me last night at our women’s group. We’ve just started a new series on prayer … actually, we were supposed to start three weeks ago, but my life has been a wee bit topsy-turvy in that timeframe. Anyway, we started the intro session last night, and one of the author’s (Stormie Omartian) comments caught my attention like a stray Lego under bare feet in the middle of the night.

Stormie Omartian wrote (my paraphrase) that those of us who are in Christ can be assured that our prayers, though seemingly unanswered at the time, are paving the way for God to work in our lives down the road. She used the word “manifested” to describe how God’s answers to our prayers may not be obvious right away.

I sure needed to hear that.

"D'oh" moment

There might not be anything more humbling than to be teaching a Bible study or leading a discussion on spiritual matters and have a truth from God’s word smack you upside the head in mid-sentence. That happened to me last night at our women’s group. We’ve just started a new series on prayer … actually, we were supposed to start three weeks ago, but my life has been a wee bit topsy-turvy in that timeframe. Anyway, we started the intro session last night, and one of the author’s (Stormie Omartian) comments caught my attention like a stray Lego under bare feet in the middle of the night.

Stormie Omartian wrote (my paraphrase) that those of us who are in Christ can be assured that our prayers, though seemingly unanswered at the time, are paving the way for God to work in our lives down the road. She used the word “manifested” to describe how God’s answers to our prayers may not be obvious right away.

I sure needed to hear that.

seeing through the lens

When will I stop seeing everything through the lens of my brother’s death?

My tradition whenever I travel out-of-state is to buy souvenir t-shirts for the boys of either the major university in town or the major sports team. I was in St. Louis for a conference the past few days, so I picked up three Cardinals t-shirts for my boys. The next day, I went back to the store and bought two more for my nephews.

We experienced turbulence on the plane on the return flight, and I thought of dying and seeing him waiting to greet me at Heaven’s gate.

I had a meeting today with the chiefs of risk management and campus police to review our department’s emergency preparedness plan, and as we talked through the recommended plan of action should someone with a gun ever enter our building … I wondered what he must have felt when he was shot.

I couldn’t figure out how to get to the draft email message that I had saved on my Blackberry, and after several failed attempts of scrolling through menus and feeling increasingly inept, I wanted so badly to call and ask him.

Speaking of said Blackberry, I know he would hound me relentlessly for getting a pink one.  😉

People I meet ask how many kids I have, and although I say three, my heart feels five.

Someone will say, “Hi, how’s it going?” and all I can think to respond is, “Right now, I’m ok.”

flying in the heavens

I have always felt a sense of closeness to God when I fly. I have a habit of praying just as the plane begins takeoff, asking God to surround the plane with angels, under the wings, too. It’s so beautiful to look out the window and find yourself smothered in clouds! I can’t think of many ways to feel nearer to God. Today feels different, somehow, because I have a deeper appreciation for life, in general. I miss Nathan so much.

What is grief?

Plenty of folks with more credentials than me have written a book or two or twenty on the definition and stages of grief. In fact, Random House Dictionary defines “grief” as:

  1. “keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret
  2. a cause or occasion of keen distress or sorrow.”

The “mental suffering” aspect is a poignant choice of words, and certainly regret, distress and sorrow are huge components. One thing I’ve realized the past couple of weeks (actually, tonight will be two weeks exactly) is that grief is a lot more than sadness. I’ve lost loved ones before, and I’ve known school acquaintances who’ve died, but this is the first time that the impact of someone’s death means radical and permanent change in my life.

The myriad of conflicting feelings can be crushing at times. As I struggle to make sense of (or at least come to terms with) my emotions, I’m trying to look at them through the lens of Scripture. (The following excerpts are from the NIV translation.)

Grief is ironic. Joyful times will come in the future, but they may still have a twinge of pain … like when my nephews graduate from kindergarten, lose their first tooth, shoot their first basketball goal, go on their first date, attend prom, graduate from high school, pack for college, get married, have kids … joyful times, all, yet painful that he will not be here for these milestones.

Proverbs 14: 13 – “Even in laughter the heart may ache, and joy may end in grief.”

Grief is emotionally draining. I haven’t cried in several days. I’m still very sad, and no, I’m not a robot; I just think I’m mentally exhausted. Tears will come, and those are cleansing times.

Psalm 119: 28 – “My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word.”

Grief is physically overwhelming. There’s the kind of tired you feel when you’ve had a long day at the office and just want to kick back and veg for a while in the evening. Then there’s the tired you feel when you’ve been up five times during the night with a nursing infant and still have to get up and go to work when the alarm sounds. This period in my life feels more like the latter.

Jeremiah 8: 18 – “O my Comforter in sorrow, my heart is faint within me.”

Grief is for sharing. If we are watchful, I believe God will bring opportunities into our lives to reach out to other people who are experiencing similar pain. We may only be a step or two ahead of them in the journey, but we can pull them along … just as we sometimes need to be pulled along by those who’ve gone before us.

2 Corinthians 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.”

Grief is a reminder to draw close to God. Quite frankly, when life is hunky-dory, it’s easy to forget to give God the glory. When circumstances suck and we can’t make sense of it all, we turn to God. Praise Him for not turning us away for being so flighty and childish!

Lamentations 3: 32-33 – “Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men.”

Grief is part of life. Death and taxes, so the cliché goes. Grief can help us to have a healthy perspective on life and how better to appreciate it.

Ecclesiastes 7: 2-4 – “ It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, because a sad face is good for the heart. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of pleasure.”

Grief is a precursor to joy. If we’ve never known hardship, it’s more difficult to thank God for our abundance. If we don’t experience loss, we may not appreciate all that we still have.

Psalm 30: 11-12 – “You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever.”

Grief is not eternal. We are not citizens of this world. Those who live forever in Christ will have no more sorrow, no regrets, no pain. There is hope and a promise awaiting us.

Isaiah 60: 20 – “Your sun will never set again, and your moon will wane no more; the LORD will be your everlasting light, and your days of sorrow will end.”