Olympic Training Center

It's not RIGHT! It's not FAIR! This is an olympic site in Western Canada...and James was supposed to be begging me to finagle a way to get to the 2010 winter olympics here in Western Canada (Vancouver instead of Calgary) for next year...

Unlike when he and I saw some of the Olympic stuff in Lake Placid NY (1980 games) a few years ago, the Centre here in Calgary (1988 games) still has the plaza with flags and the torch/flame holder. Plus it has a big stage area facing the ski jump and bobsled/luge hills that we assume was used for medal presentations.

I am VERY aware that James would NOT have been experienced enough to compete in the 2010 olympics...and that he would have been VERY unlikely to have actually made it to the olympics in ice dance at all...

but this was a reminder of a dream that can not possibly be fulfilled now that he is gone...


Seeing the flags and flame plaza...and seeing the medal stage...I could also "see" James in the excited crowd of spectators, enjoying being part of the extravaganza and getting a little teary-eyed with patriotism whenever the stars & stripes was honored and our national anthem played...


(I'm guessing that anything olympic related (especially winter olympics) will be bittersweet for many years to come...)

a BEAUTIFUL day...

I need to share the following story with you. Again, as many times during this past year, it is a story of God reaching out to me in HIS timing and with HIS grace. This entry is based on an email I sent a close friend on Easter morning (in green print), with two quoted sections from an email she sent me later in the day (in blue) and my later-written summary of what was happening for me during my own church service (again in green).

What was most AMAZING to me in this exchange, was God's TIMING in speaking to both of our hearts! I'll explain more below.

It's been an emotionally exhausting week...but today is EASTER--the reminder of new life and new beginnings. Even the weather here in Phoenix was a reminder of Easter---yesterday was dark and gray all day with RAIN throughout the day. We realized this was the first RAIN we have been in since leaving Ohio in December---snow just slides right down off our door, but rain soaked the whole exterior of the RV...and "melted" the marker-made welcome sign the kids put on our door back in Colorado! It was a day of WAITING---all the kids here were waiting with hope that the easter egg hunt could eventually happen IF it would just stop raining long enough! (It did---they all had great fun---YAY!) Nettie was with us...and was waiting to help hide the eggs---one more evidence of being "grown up"...she had great fun this first year of stepping up into the role of hider rather than finder. I was waiting for the gray to leave and the blue skies and sun to return---which really didn't happen yesterday. The sun peeped through a few times...but waited until this morning to be a glorious blue skied, sunny day with all the little birds twittering and cooing to greet the new day.

(In this next section---I'm trusting that readers fully understand I am NOT calling myself God nor calling James Jesus...yet there is truly comfort in seeing ourselves as part of a "Second Easter" story. As Randy has said---because of the timing of James' death and of when Easter is this year, Easter will always be inextricably entwined with our memories of James.)

This past week I have been reminded over and over that both MARY and PAPA HIMSELF experienced the feelings we have gone through...the pain of knowing their son suffered...and the pain of being separated from their son. I mean they both KNOW these feelings I go through...It helps to think of Jesus' earthly mother and his heavenly father both grieving these things, even while knowing Easter was a CHOICE they all made , in Mary's case out of following God and with Papa and Jesus because of how much they love each one of us.

Now this is where timing is really cool---when my friend was sensing this in Ohio, I was just then waking up in Phoenix. Notice that I woke up with a sense of peace---an immediate answer to my friend's prayers!

This morning, in the service, I was listening to our pastor speak and out of the blue, I felt like someone had taken their strong hand and shoved me in the chest. At the same instant, I had a sense of being back in the hospital, waiting with you re: James. That was all. No clear understanding, but I felt it was a call to pray for you all.

I woke up early this morning, thinking "HE is risen so that "he" is now risen"...and yes, there is comfort in that thought as well. I was restlessly wandering the trailer when I got up, even while enjoying the sunlight and the birds singing (and the silence of family still sleeping!) I thought of reading the Bible, but decided to pull out a favorite book instead. Here are some bits that again jumped out at me as being so much part of this Easter Day: "The God who is--the I am who I am--cannot act apart from love." And in a later passage when the main character commented he was so sorry that Jesus had to die, God replied "...we aren't sorry at all. It was worth it."

Those words are such a comfort to me---Papa acted with LOVE even through James' death...and I'm continuing to ask Him to make James' death "worth it."

And then, later in the morning...came the hard part:

I was doing okay about it being Easter but not being overwhelmed by grieving James...until we walked into the sanctuary at church. I started getting choked up, remembering so many happy Easter mornings in the past, surrounded by our large group of kids, looking so fancy in the special clothes I forced them into just for this day. (Yes, it is the ONE time a year I still reserve the right to help pick my kids' clothes AND force them to stand still for family photos!) It just didn't feel right with only Jakob and Anna sitting with us. (Nettie arrived a little later than this.)

Then a 30 something young man entered the seating area, dressed in a beautiful Hawaiian shirt...and I totally LOST it. So often, while I put dress shirts on the other boys, James insisted on a new, bright colored Hawaiian shirt for Easter. He would have loved this one: white background with coral and yellow blossoms all over it. I cried and cried and cried...at least by now the worship music was cranked up so I didn't worry about what others might be thinking of me.

Soon, I had a strong sense that God was reminding me that "James is dressed even more beautifully than this today." So...I cried some more, but with a feeling of peace at the same time. This truly was the best Easter JAMES has ever celebrated! (Even though it didn't feel so good to me...)


But then, a second time, God gave my friend the same basic "vision" that I was having at the same basic time I was having it! We were celebrating together the beauty of God's love without even knowing at the time that our thoughts were entwined! Isn't that AWESOME?!

Then, as we were driving home, again without thinking of him, I had a very strong "vision" of James - absolutely beautiful!!! He was vibrant & in his bright blue/turquoisy Hawaiian shirt. Only everything about the sight of him was "bigger" than life. He was outstandingly healthy, and I remember thinking that I could almost picture the free-flowing shirt bottom as colorful wings of a brilliant butterfly that could fly away free, or that would give him "angel-type" wings. He was happy faced & very alert.

I have no idea what that was about, but it gave me great joy, and a grateful heart. If I were going to put a meaning on it, I probably would say it was, "The best is yet to come".

Yes, Easter was tough this year. But I see some of the progress I have made in the past year. I am learning that the floods of grieving will not actually hurt me, especially if I can relax and let the waves of tears and sobbing wash over me. Calm eventually comes again on the other side. I guess I can truly say Easter was indeed a BEAUTIFUL day, even if my splotchy red face might have indicated otherwise!

the gift of listening

Yesterday, I was given a gift.

No...it wasn't the coffee that spilled behind me at church, keeping three of us busy mopping it up with napkins as it slowly ran under the seats and down the slanted floor in the auditorium.

No...it wasn't the opportunity to help clean-up nor the embarrassed thanks of the woman sitting behind me (whose coffee it was that spilled).

No...it wasn't even the friendly smile she gave me after the service was over.

All of those things contributed to opening conversation between that woman and myself. But in and of themselves, those things weren't really the gift. The gift was Jonna's openness, continued questions, and willingness to LISTEN.

She listened while I talked of missing James. She showed concern (but not discomfort or fear) when tears rolled down my cheeks as I talked. She invited further conversation about James. She listened as I told her a little more about his last few days, about the apparent seizures, about the "angel" (in the form of a Jehovah's Witness who came to my door) that God sent with encouragement and information about post-seizure suicidal impulses. She listened to all this and more. And, she cried with me. She shared how this information was encouragement to her as well. (Her husband has struggled with despair and epilepsy for years.)

Yes, it was a help to me to know that something we have learned through this hard journey could be of encouragement to another. But the most important help...and gift...was

She LISTENED to me...

no more grey skies...

For years I've hated the oh-so-often grey skies in Ohio. Even in the summer, there is rarely BLUE sky, but rather brightly lit hazy grey/white sky with blue peeping through here and there.

In the weeks after James died, God gave me a wonderful gift. Each day was warm and sunny and they sky was BLUE. So many days, I took Jakob and Anna out--to the park, to a playground, on an outing. Anything, so I could sit on a bench, soak up the sun, and enjoy the bright day. I felt God a little closer at those times.

In weeks and months that followed, I could cope okay if it was at least bright outside. But those dreaded grey days that I've disliked for years became a heavy weight. My grief and pain over the loss of James was so hard to carry. Add the grey...and it became unbearable. All I wanted to do on those days was sit on the couch, curl up in a blanket, and stare out the window at the trees silhouetted against dismal skies. Days like that seemed to fill the house, and the world around, and even my heart, with grey fog...

Then, in December, we fled Ohio and made it to Denver for the holidays. The sky, oh, LOOK at the sky! It's BLUE, clear blue, with few clouds and a bright SUN! Some days the mountains fade behind mist and clouds...but here on the high plains it stays clear.

Even Anna notices. The other day was slightly hazy. (You know, like a GOOD day in Ohio?!) She commented with disdain that it was just like Ohio---a dark, grey day.

For now, while we are still missing James so deeply...BLUE has become a good color, a life giving color. I think we will stay awhile here where the sky brings hope!

...the past tense...

Yesterday, I caught up with an old friend. We haven't been in contact for the past few years. She has known us since Jakob was a toddler and Anna was just born. She gave me her latest news and asked for an update on us and our kids. I sent her a newsy novel---who is where and how old and what we are all doing. She had read about James' death and sent her condolences... I included James in the update--he had changed alot since she last saw him as an elementary kid years ago.

But...when I was done, I cried.

I've done lots of talking with friends and with new acquaintances about who James was. I've scrapbooked lots of pages celebrating the many roles he played. But all of that still felt much more in the present tense. Putting updates in writing made it so clear...my other kids are moving forward. There is a future to look towards and wonder about for each of them. But...writing about James was all in the past tense. There it was in black and white...no more future.

When I was done writing...I cried.

We could have laughed...

I've been reading a book called Planet Ocean. It is a quirky look at life on earth from the beginnings of time. The writing is full of puns, imaginative dreams, and story telling with a running theme of FISH and humans. The illustrations are wonderfully inventive--mixing images of ancient sea creatures or dinosaurs with today's life or illustrating puns in imaginative ways. (Two paleontologists and dinosaurs dancing to the fossil record, playing on the little record player!) Sounds like a good read, doesn't it?

But...I had started it earlier in the day, got busy with other things, and later laid down to take a short nap. BAM! I was crying hard, missing James... What? What triggered the tears THIS time??

I realized this was a book I would have shared with him--showing him the best bits, groaning and laughing together about the puns and the mixed-up images. I shared a few bits with Jakob...but it just wasn't the same.

I miss you, James...

No space for James...

We picked up our brand-spankin-new RV today. I absolutely KNOW in my head that this is the right model for us. It has a beautiful big window in the back--in our bedroom, but visible through a glass door from the living area. This helps make the RV feel so much bigger than most models. Plus, Jakob and Anna have a cozy room up front, with plenty of drawers, doors (to shelves), and cubby-holes (for toys and treasures).

So...why does it still feel WRONG? Eventually, I figured out the reason... There is no space for James. There is a sofa-bed for guests...but no bed set aside for him, no place to store his books or clothes, the table only seats four, the frig is tiny, there is no space for cockatiels, and on and on it goes.

I KNOW we never would have bought this RV at this time if James was still with us. I KNOW it is the right model for us now. I KNOW these things...but it still feels wrong.

There is no space for James...