14 Years Feels Like A Lifetime

14 years.

Wait, what?!?

Has it really been 14 years since that heart-stopping, gut-turning, life-altering phone call came through? Has it really been 14 years since I was just a naive 10th grader without a clue of what true pain meant; until this stormy Monday night? I was only 16. My world had consisted of what my weekend plans were going to be, if my looser-of-a-boyfriend was ever going to call me back, what the note from my friend passed between science and study hall said, where I could park at school so no one would see me exiting out of the passenger side of the truck because my door handle from the inside wouldn't work. No, no I had no idea what it meant to have big-girl problems. But Monday, March 13th I grew up; a lot, and quickly.

We had driven to the hospital not knowing the worst was yet to come. My mom and I were still hopeful. Praying and pleading that my dad would be ok when we got there. Unfortunately we were put into one of those tiny rooms that no one wants to ever set foot in. The room that's just big enough for immediate family. The room with walls so bare all you can do is look at the ground or the ceiling and you don't dare look at each other because if you do, you will see it. You will see in each others eyes what the other is thinking, and that it will confirm that you are thinking the same thing. Then it happened. The heartless nurse waltzed in and announced exactly what we were praying and pleading we wouldn't have to hear.
All I could think and say was "He's in Heaven now. He's in Heaven now. He's in Heaven now. He's in Heaven now." And then I sat in the hall of the hospital and bawled my eyeballs out.

Where do you go from there? Sometimes it seems so surreal that I went thru such tragic loss. And sometimes it feels like yesterday. It's amazing the details you remember when you go through something like that, but yet the memory of what everyday life around him was like has faded. His voice is fading, his laugh is fading. Yet some memories are so real I can close my eyes and almost be in that moment with him. At the house he grew up in on West Virginia soil- making colby-jack toasted bread in the toaster oven and walking out to the pond listening to old mountaineer stories. Sitting out on the front porch and watching the trains go by, heading into "town" for dinner at one of the only two restaurants. Helping with the family reunions that he so dearly loved, being so proud to watch him stand up and talk about family like there was nothing else in the world. Being handed a roll of quarters to play games in the arcade at the reunion resort and being told not to spend it all at once. Having him ask me "Hey wanna go for a ride?"(in his truck) and somehow always ending up at the Steak and Shake drive-thru for a strawberry milkshake, and having him offer a nickel for my thoughts on the way home. Going to school late at night with him to prep the donuts and orange juice to sell in the morning. And probably one of my favorites; going to his office to eat lunch with him (or to use his TV when he was out ;) and finding notes from him in my lunch that I had left in his fridge.

There are more memories; specific ones like above. But honestly the everyday memory is gone. And that's ok. We are human. We are not made to remember everything. Life goes on and we make new memories, but we hold fast to those big ones, specific ones that never escape our mind bank. As I was saying to my friend recently, just because their memory fades, doesn't mean we love them any less. It doesn't mean we miss them any less. I miss my dad just as much now as I did that dark and stormy Monday-night-before-pi-day (as a math teacher, it was one of his favorite day's at school).

I hate that I can't imagine what it would be like to have him here right this second. To sit on the couch with me and tell me it's going to be ok. I don't know what it would be like to see him interact with my children, other then the fact I know there would be a lot of giggling going on! But dwelling on that too long doesn't do any one any good. I've learned to be thankful to having even known him and the joy he brought to others. Just because I don't spend everyday of my life sad and angry doesn't mean I don't love him or miss him any less then I already do. It's just that I've decided to choose the other path. The one where I know he's in Heaven. I know he's praising God, and what better place to be?!? My humanly desire is to have him here with me and my family, with my children and one day their children, but my soul is thankful that he knew and believed in the One who is mighty to save! Thankful that one day we will meet again. I know it's easy for people to use this whole idea as a "way out" of their sadness, but I truly believe it. I can still hear his deep voice singing "It Is Well With My Soul". What an amazing song and story; Horatio Spafford wrote it while passing over the same spot where his four daughters died in a voyage to Europe. He had also lost two 4 year old sons (at different times in life) to scarlet fever. If he can get through that, then I can get through my past trials and help my friends through their current one.

14 years feels like a lifetime; and technically it is. There's my life before I lost my dad, and my life after. I've now lived more then half my life without him. But life must go on. We can't daily grieve for the lost because we still have the living. I still need to be a wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend.

Thank you dad for your humor, your compassion and your love. You are greatly missed, everyday.

Please hug on David for me, say hi to Zeke for me, and please make sure to meet sweet Jubilee. Her big eyes will make you melt!

Love your daughter,

Susan

Jubilee Hope - Couldn't Be A More Perfect Name

No doubt this weekend has been a first for us. It has brought us closer (in our marriage and also in our walk with Christ) in ways I cannot describe. To see your best friends go through the unimaginable will bring you back to reality and what's important in life quicker then the crack of a lightning bolt. 

It's been an amazing and eye opening experience to be alongside our friends as their 3-month-old daughter fought the good fight. No parent should have to bury their child, especially at such a young and fragile age. No parent should endure multiple 911 calls, ambulance rides, CPR sessions and flat lining with their infant. But alas, my friends did. They have endured the pain of their daughter's disorder day in and day out for the last 6 weeks. Everyday started with the question if this would be her last. Everyday they prayed for her, loved on her, talked to her, smiled at her, sang to her, kissed on her and told her in more ways then just their voice that they loved her more then words could describe. There is no doubt she knew God's love for her through her parent's actions. There is no doubt that Jesus has used her story to bring people all over the country (even us) closer to Christ. There is no doubt that this baby girl was born with greater purpose then we could ever imagine and will ever understand. 

This weekend we were blessed to be with our friends across the country as they celebrated the short but highly impactful life of their 3-month-old daughter. 

I distinctly remember the day they told us they were expecting their third child. We were hanging out on the court after class at the gym. So giddy and excited to share the good news we were smiling from ear to ear knowing they had wanted this child so badly. But your life can change in the blink of an eye. Having no idea they were both carriers of a genetic disorder, the news of their daughter’s future was devastating. 

But the story doesn't end there. There are many ways they could have reacted; there are many ways they could have handled their new lifestyle. After the initial shock and mental/emotional processing, they decided to give their child joy. Instead of being bitter, upset, angry and revengeful, they chose to spend their limited days thanking God for her and the opportunity to spend as much time with their daughter as possible. 

Our friends have inspired us, and many others, in ways that can only come from God. We are so thankful to call them friends. It's amazing to see God's plan unfold in areas you would least expect it. He knew exactly what He was doing when we chose to live much further from the base then any of the friends we already had at our new location; He knew Kristen and Nate would be there. He knew Kristen and I would meet at a spouses’ function and hit it off as friends right away. He knew our families would become close as we went camping and riding over the summers together. And He knew they would be enduring what every parent shouldn't, and that Gabriel and I would be there every step of the way for them. 

These last 6 weeks I have constantly been wishing I could take their pain from them; that I could even take their place for them. Not that I want to loose a child, but that I want to not see them suffer. Oh, what I would do to ease their pain. But this is God's plan, and thankfully they have embraced that truth and have been able to get through it with what only God's love and comfort can do. To watch our friends endure the pain that God did as His Son was crucified on the cross, is indescribable. But that's also exactly what makes it so amazing, that we are reminded that God has gone through this suffering as well. That He understands their pain and that He is here to comfort them and guide them along the way. 

Thank you Jesus for working in my friends' life. Thank You for loving them in ways they might not even see or completely understand. Thank You for allowing us to be with them this weekend and be able to witness what an impact they and their daughter have had on their community. Thank You for giving them the strength and courage to get through this and to tell others, especially their daughters that You are the reason they can hold their head high and continue on. Thank You for dying on the cross so Jubilee could go to Heaven and be with You for eternity. Thank You for giving our friends the understanding that she is no longer suffering but is forever praising Your name, and that one day they will be able to join with her in the heavenly chorus!  

Now go and hug your loved ones tight and tell them you love them, because believe me, you never know when your last chance to do so will be!

"Christ alone, cornerstone. 

Weak make strong in the Savior's love.
Through the storm, He is Lord, Lord of all!"