A Gust of Wind

Fall in Colorado has been absolutely breathtaking. Most days the weather has been the perfect balance: cool mornings in 40s, sunshine and 70s by the afternoon.

As typical, it's been very dry too--I can't remember the last time we've had a good rain. But snow has fallen in the mountains, however, and the white peaks shine brightly along the front range.

 

And the trees. Man, I have never seen such vibrant colors. I just can't get over how bold the reds are, how bright the yellows, and how deep the purples have been.

Molly and I collected a rainbow one morning before school on our walk. 

We've been living it up in this beautiful season. We visited a pumpkin patch, one of my favorite things to do! The field of orange pumpkins, the snowy mountains behind them--it was the most picturesque pumpkin patch I've ever been in.

We went up into the mountains last weekend and took a ride on the Georgetown Train Loop near Idaho Springs. What a treat that was! We couldn't have asked for a nicer day.

And in between, we've been ooohhh-ing and awwww-ing over the trees. Pulling over to take photos, stopping on our walks to admire the splendor of God's creativity in color.

But this week, it is apparent this season is coming to an end. After another 75 degrees and sunny day on Monday, yesterday the wind changed directions. The sky was dark and cloudy. I watched the tree branches sway and bend in the strong wind, and heard the crackling of leaves blowing down the road on my walk. Blankets of leaves lay in people's yards today. Piles, beautiful piles!, but piles nonetheless of leaves are in the street gutters.

This unbelievably amazing season is ending. And it's more than a little sad.

Soon, the darker, colder months of winter will set in. There seems to be an urgency to enjoy and make the most of each nice day while they last.



Fall is a hard season for me. One of my favorite seasons, but a hard one. As many of you may remember, it was this week we learned Drew's cancer was back. The day after Halloween, we had a meeting with the oncology doctor to discuss the fateful scan which had showed 3 new spots of cancer. We were told that in light of this new information, and despite all he had endured since January in treatment, Drew would probably die. And possibly, soon.

I'll never forget that meeting. The silence in between statements. The awful churning of my gut. The single tears falling down my hot cheeks as I asked more questions. The shattering of our hearts.

The room was quiet. It felt dark, the air heavy. Time seemed to stand still as Josh and I sat with the doctor in shock and horror.


But then the door burst open, and Drew rushed in full of noise and energy. He had been hanging out with the receptionist (one of his many friends at Mayo) while we had our meeting. But she had to get back to work, and so she was returning her sidekick to us. He ran right over to me on his tippy toes, like his excitement was actually lifting him up.

He showed me the picture he'd drew, "Look mom, look!!". His bald head was covered in peach fuzz--baby hairs starting to fill back in. His little two-year-old fingers pointing to his picture, his eyes bright and flashing that sparkle that let you know he was feeling great.

How can this be?? I remember thinking as he was in my lap. This can't be true, it just can't. My sweet little boy, so full of life, was going to die...


That day five years ago was much like yesterday. Everything was going so well, and we were truly experiencing real joy on our journey through pediatric cancer. And then, on Oct 30th, the sunny sky filled in with dark clouds. The wind changed direction, and seemed to blow off all of the beauty we had been reveling in in one big gust.

It was certainly more than a little sad. There was definitely a new sense of urgency to enjoy each good day with our Drew.

We'd have just over 11 weeks with him after that day, before Jesus welcomed him into Heaven...

But there is good news. Yes, the wonderful fall we've had is coming to an end and winter will set in. Although we'll surely have hard days, if we are open to it, we'll have some good days too. And soon enough, it'll be spring again. The days will be longer, the sun will shine bright, and the trees will have new buds on their branches.

My Drew is gone for now, and that's hard. So hard. It's been almost 5 years since I've heard his voice, or seen his face. But if I'm open to it, I can still feel his sparkle, even if I can't see it in his bright blue eyes right now.

His warmth can still surround me, even if he's not sitting in my lap, showing me his pictures. And some day by the amazing grace of God, we'll be together again, my son and I. Never to part.

I've begun a big project this school year, something I've thought about doing but had yet to get started. I felt God pushing me this year though, saying it's time. So with Molly back IN school and Josh back at the office, I'm making time to bring our cancer journey with Drew, and the lessons we learned about joy along the way, into a book.

I don't know how it will turn out, or what will happen to it once it's finished. I only know through experience that when God leads you somewhere, you follow. That if He begins a work in us, He'll finish it. That His truth doesn't return to Heaven empty handed.

So while I haven't been writing on here much, I've been writing each week since August, making my way through my memories of 2016 with the help of journals, photos, and conversations with people who were a part of our story.

I'm trying to just make steady progress--add to the book each week. Some sections of the story have been hard to get through. Memories trigger emotions I haven't felt for a while as we've moved forward with our life. But I trust it's good. It will be good for me, and whoever may read it someday.

And in the process, even though it awakens my heart who cries out again for the little boy we have lost for a time, my writing afternoons have become a comfort, too. A weekly time where I get to go back, and hang out with my Drew again. He's back to life for a few hours.  

And even though it hurts, and I miss him so much again, I feel filled when I'm done. I smile even with a pile of used Kleenex on the floor beside me. Satisfied and comforted that I'm getting these details out before I forget. And thankful that through this work, others may get to know the most amazing little boy.

A little boy who was like a gust of wind himself--quick and brief, but oh, so powerful.  His joy, trust, and endurance we all could learn something from.

Getting Through Hard Things

In June, after we'd gotten back from Disney World, Molly and I rode our bikes down to the post office to get our mail. We stopped at a park on the way back home.  As I stood there watching Molly climb up the tower and go down the slide, I was in a bit of a daze.  Vacations take a lot out of you--one of the items on my list titled "Way more fun as the kid, not so much as the Mom", along with Christmas and swimming lessons--and a week in Disney pretty much wipes you out. 

As I was standing there, someone approached the park with 3 dogs on leashes. As they walked through the field of tall grass, all of a sudden the dogs were lost, and instead, 12 legs were up in the air, moving around wilding. The dogs had all dropped together to roll around in the tall, wet, grass. 

The owner tried to move them along, pulling them on the leashes.  And they went along for a few steps, but then all of a sudden again, they all 3 hit the ground and began rolling around. It was pretty funny to watch! The dancing feet in the air and wiggling bodies. I teased their owner that he'd never get out of the grass and back home!  He explained that on hot days like today would be, they love the cool, wet grass to roll around in.

Eventually he moved them on, and as they walked off on their way, instead of feeling dazed, I somehow now felt more energetic, and had a smile on my face.  Molly had seen the scene too, and we talked about it on the ride home. Wishing we were those dogs right about then, as we biked up the hill in the sun to our house--we could use a good roll in wet, cool, grass!

I found myself thinking back on those crazy dogs later in the day too, as I moved laundry through and unpacked suitcases. Smiling to myself about those 12 feet in the air and wondering how much a roll in the grass tickles...

We caught some sort of bug that caused tonsillitis through our travels in early summer, and spent a week recovering after we got home from Iowa at the end of June. During that week, Molly went with me grocery shopping. Which, I'm seeing that no matter how old your child is, it's still harder with them along.  And since I was still half sick, I wasn't in a great mood on the way home when we passed the golf course we drive by everyday.

Just as we were going by, a golfer must have missed his put and was obviously upset, taking out his frustration with his club as he whacked the ground. Molly and I both saw it together and laughed. Molly saying, "I guess he's having a bad day too!".  

Now I know, I know, we shouldn't take pleasure in another's misfortune. But that afternoon, it was just the thing to break our bad mood. Remind us that we aren't the only one in the world having a bad day, and give us a laugh. 

And so as the summer rolled on, Molly and I have been trying to notice things like these each day.  While we are going about our lives, wherever we are, we try to find things that make us smile, bring us joy, make us feel better.  We point it out when it happens, "that's my thing of the day!". And its amazing how many days we find them. How often little things that so easily go unnoticed jump out at you when you're looking for them.

There is a field by Molly's school that once the snow had melted this spring, I watched fill in with weeds. By the time school was winding down the weeds were getting pretty tall, and I commented on how they ought to mow it, it would look so much nicer. 

But this summer, that same field of weeds, is now an ocean of purple flowers! Almost at the same time when we drove past the school recently we both said, "whoa--look!  That field is now purple!"

We pulled over to get a better look, and take it all in. Stopping to smell the flowers--literally! And it made us smile.

Now that we're looking, on a different trip, Molly pointed out a tree growing out of the top of an old grain bin. We both thought that was pretty unusual, something funny to see. You don't see that everyday! It looks like a tall skinny pineapple Molly said.

And that was our "thing" of that day.

A volunteer pumpkin vine which grew from the remains of our smushy pumpkins we didn't remove soon enough last fall has been something I'm really enjoying each day.  You all know how much I loved my garden in Austin, Minnesota, but since our moves I haven't had another one. I was kind of sad about that again this spring, as I was green with garden-envy, seeing other people's plants sprout up in my neighborhood.  Then one day I saw this tiny pumpkin plant. God gave me something to tend after all! What a gift.

I'm watching it get longer and longer, and have nice big yellow flowers.  No pumpkins yet, but everyday I check!

Now I know I've wrote about the little things of life before.  It is something I point to as how we got through 2016, when Drew was in treatment.  Choosing joy, finding reasons to be thankful, appreciating the little things--is nothing new from me. But I need routine reminders, and maybe you do too.  Teaching the practice to my daughter this summer, has reinforced the habit in me, and reminded me just how important it is to slow down and look around.

Because it's through these small things that we see God's love for us. He cares about our everyday struggles, and he can fulfill us in ways we don't expect, if we are just open to them.  Once we slow down, and are intentional about seeing all the gifts He brings into our lives, we will be filled with joy.  And that joy leads to gratitude.  Which will then strengthen our trust in a God who loves us and cares for us in the everyday things, and who surely will be with us and see us through the big things in life too.

And big things continue to come.  While the summer has really been a good one for us, and 2021 as a whole is much better than last year, tragedies happen everyday that threaten to take away our joy. 

A close friend experienced a huge, unexpected, tragedy in their family at the beginning of this month.  One that turned their whole world upside down and will change the course of their lives, or at least the course they thought their lives would follow, forever.  My heart breaks for my friend and her boys. For the shock and sorrow they are enduring.  For the many challenges and struggles they will now face. For the weight of grief to be carried for a lifetime that I know all too well.

I found myself more mad about this tragedy than I expected. Why do these kind of things have to happen to people, just trying their best in life?  Why should children have to deal with the loss of someone they love so dearly and need so much in their life? It's just not fair, and feels so wrong...

Somehow I didn't feel this way about our own tragedy as much.  I had other hard feelings to be sure, but not a lot of anger. Maybe when it was our loss, I felt like I had to stay focused. For Molly, but also for myself.  Giving into feeling sorry for myself or letting anger take up space in my broken heart didn't seem productive. 

But when it's someone else, a dear friend, I guess I can get angry for them. Turning to God with hard questions--Why aren't you doing anything about this? Why do you watch as people die, and families are thrown into grief and pain? Don't You care?  My mind added up all the families I know who are struggling with very real problems.  People--children--enduring physical, and also emotional pain every day, with no end seemingly in sight. It shouldn't be this way, I thought as tears have rolled down my hot cheeks a number of times this month.

And I feel like God let me sit like that for a little while. Didn't reprimand me, try to explain to me, or talk me out of being mad. He just patiently let me be angry, and seemed to listen with the caring heart of the Good Father. 

And when I was ready, He ever so gently reminded me of the Truth.

He does care, very, very much.  It kills him as much as it does us, even more so!, to see his children suffer. No, this wasn't the way it was suppose to be, not His plan for creation. And He did do something about it. For God so loved the world that He sent His only Son to SAVE us all from all this ugliness, grief, and pain. The answer to all our prayers is "yes" in Jesus, who paid the ultimate price to redeem us from this pit of despair. 

It's good news! Yes this world is terrible and unfair, but it will all be made right, some day. Families will be reunited, bodies will be healed, pain and sorrow won't ever be a thing again. We just have to wait. Have faith in Him. 

And you know how we know all of this?  How we can see that it's all true and that we can rely on Him?  In the little things. Every day He shows us His love, encourages us in subtle but powerful ways. He gives us pumpkin vines, fields of purple from weeds, and 12 dog feet dancing in the air to remind us that He loves us so much, and cares about our colds and bad moods. So how much more does he care about the big things? The really hard stuff?  Even more so.  

That's why the everyday matters. Why the enemy tries so hard to keep us distracted and cynical of the little things in life.  Because each and every smile we get from the small gifts God gives us adds up to a joy deep in our hearts that goes beyond circumstances. So when circumstances take a turn for the worst, when the going gets tough as they say, we still hold on to and believe in the love and joy we find all around us.  It causes gratitude, that leads to trust and gives us hope.  And that trust and hope will carry us over the mountains in our lives.

If I ever need more reinforcement on this, I just have to look back on the life of my Drew. A life marked with joy and filled with trust.  Was it because he felt great all the time?  That he got to do everything he wanted to do? Certainly not.  He was at the center of some of the worst circumstances I hope to ever be a part of. Some of the things I watched being done to him, the results of treatment on and in his body, still make me sick to think about. My poor baby boy...

But he had a God-given ability to find the joy, wherever he was. To cheer others up, when he was the one who was down. He fully enjoyed the little things, and made the most of each of his days.

  

He will inspire me for the rest of my life. 

So here's to the little things, that are really big things. To joy and hope, even in tragedy. To friendship that holds each other up, as we take turns being pushed down. Until the day when all is made right, 
and justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream 💗

And also...

 A set of pictures came up in my Facebook memories this week. Molly and Drew, reading a book together, my caption explaining that after breakfast, I found them like this in Molly's room. 

The joy, the love, between big sister and little brother jumped right out of the photos and into my heart. 

  

Those feelings coming from the photos, the memory of that morning, woke my heart up from it's peaceful rest lately. Quickly though, I felt the familiar heartache I seem to have gotten a break from. 

If only I could jump back there, to that moment. What I wouldn't give for just one more morning, with my two babies, having breakfast and reading together.  Just us, together, filling rooms with love and joy. 

As I went on with my day, my mind kept going back to those photos, those moments.  I opened up the photos again, and studied the things in the background--Molly's alarm clock on her nightstand, the bin of books under it.  

                                                   

Those clocks--they managed our life back that!  Telling them (Drew too!) when it was okay to be up for the day, or when naptime was over. 

Those books in bin, I remember readying when my babies still fit in my lap. When one wasn't too big or too old, and the other was still alive... 

Thinking about those photos as the tears fell, I decided it's not *just* that I miss my Drew (although that's enough to cry about for a lifetime).  No, I also look at those photos and the others and my heart longs for that chapter, that season of my life.  An "average" mother of two small kids, just trying to get through the day in a town I loved, with friends and activities I enjoyed.

 In these photos, I study not just the face of the son that I haven't seen for over 4 years, but also the face of my dear little Molly.  Only four years old, just a baby herself. 

I know all she had to deal with that year must have been so overwhelming, but she hardly ever showed it.  Poor sweet girl, I just want jump back into these photos and hold you, tell you how much you are loved and not taken for granted...

I sit here, closing my eyes, and I am right back at 1405 10th Street NW, in the wonderful community of Austin, Minnesota.

 I know just who I'd see each place I'd go.  I can visualize the walk we used to take most days after Josh got home from work, both of us pushing a stroller.  I remember just what activities, what events, would be coming up to get excited about in each season in our Minnesota town.  

Austin will always hold a special place in our hearts, and is where I consider home. And this week, maybe I feel a little homesick. 

But wait, I'm happy here in Colorado!  Really, we all are. I would think it's kind of obvious. We love the weather, the scenery, the outdoor activities. We are finally getting connected with people in this community following the pandemic restrictions in place when we moved here almost a year ago. At church, at the gym, in our neighborhood--I am excited, hopeful, about the new activities we are participating in and the friendships we are making.

If I'm missing a season from the past, grieving for a place and time I'll never get back, does that mean I'm not happy in the present? No, I've learned that I can be both.  Longing for what was and also excited about what is.

I have new gym instructors and buddies that I look forward to seeing at each class, but they don't take the place of my peeps in Chicago or Minnesota, they just add to the group.

The CBS class I've been a part of here in Colorado have been so wonderful. I can love them all, and also love all the other women I've been blessed to know through CBS in the past.

I can welcome new friendships and also keep my old friendships going strong that I've had for years.  In fact, this whole "and also" theme, was shared with me by a new friend here!  Giving me another way to say what I've been writing about for years now.  I can be two things at once, and they both are just as real and true.

The longing in my heart for that little girl in the photos, being the best big sister to her sick little brother, is another "and also". I can miss my little Molly, and also really be relishing my big Molly today!  

How old she looks lately almost takes my breath away. 

She's grown up a lot in the last year I think. And it's an absolute joy, I am loving this older kid stage! Seeing her mature not just physically, but emotionally is such an amazing process. She surprises me and makes me proud almost every day with her insights, strength, and intelligence.

But it's okay that at the same time, my heart yearns to have an afternoon with 4 year old Molly again...

Our family of 3 has grown even closer through the pandemic and our moves in the last 2 years.  It hasn't always been pretty, but now we share family jokes, have weekly traditions, and developed a real knowledge and enjoyment of each other, and it feels so good.

But with that said, my heart still aches for the one not here.  My head wonders how different it would be with Drewy back in the mix.  It kills me I'll have to wait a lifetime to find out... 

Again, I can be in love with our family right now, and also grieve for the one that was only together for less than 3 years.

 

Yes, I know it's all true and genuine. I can cherish the the different aspects of this season of my life and the things about this new community that are pretty neat, and also miss past communities I've lived in, and past seasons of my life--without taking away from either one.

Our work with Warrior Wagons is another area I see this "and also" quite often. 

Drew's little red wagons keep me busy these days!  Between managing our 3 busy branches, keeping up our social media, fielding the amazing donations we are blessed to receive from various groups, and virtual presentations I've been excited to give--I have full days! 

I can feel the momentum building behind our organization.  New possibilities for growth, gaining support and exposure, and making plans to do some things better.  It's all pretty exciting! 

As things keep falling into our laps, I continue to be in awe of God's provision.  How He truly does have a plan for everything--including Warrior Wagons.  Watching it unfold, being a part of the movement, is so fulfilling.  Seeing good come from the tragedy, beauty come from the ashes, is so encouraging, satisfying, and healing.

But as I pass Drew's urn and folded blanket as I file donation stubs--reality hits me too. 

 Oh, my heart knows I'd give it all up in a moment just to have another moment with my Drew. I would walk away from it all, if no other family had to experience the overwhelming loss of a child. I wish we didn't have to do what we're doing, I wish no family had to come behind us on that difficult road and need a Warrior Wagon.  

My satisfied smile turns, as a tear falls down my face. What an awful, tragic world it is that innocent children get cancer and die every day. This isn't how it's suppose to be.

Once again, it's all valid and genuine. I can be encouraged and excited about all that's happening with Warrior Wagons, and also be totally heartbroken by the "why" behind it all. 

I haven't been writing a lot this spring--mostly because our family has been in and out a lot!  We went back to Iowa for St Patrick's Day weekend in Emmetsburg, and then again for Easter in Ames two weeks later. It was a lot of driving, but worth it for the wonderful time with family.  

We took our time coming back during Molly's spring break week and visited the Omaha Zoo together!  I wasn't the best day--rainy and 44 degrees--but we still had a great time.

 

I was able to help my sister-in-law celebrate her 40th birthday with her friends in Kansas City over a long weekend most recently, which was so fun!

It's been a busy, but fun spring. 

And in the middle of all this, on April 1st, we celebrated the day our Drew was born. 

We didn't have an extravagant celebration, didn't make the biggest deal of it this year.  But our current family of 3 celebrated the 4th member not with us by having cupcakes and ice cream. Which this year, felt just right.

So once again, in giving myself permission to be sad and also happy, I feel so much better. Not guilty or confused, ashamed or fake, but at peace. Being aware of and sensitive to the whole host of genuine feelings found in my heart.  

When I sit down to write lately, it feels like the same things, themes, keep coming out.  I've said since the beginning I write these for myself as much as for anyone else.  This is a place where I sort out my feelings and share the reality of losing a child, or at least what it looks like in our lives. So maybe the reality lately is that grief is an ongoing, repetitive process. 

If my stories or themes seem to repeat themselves, its because I often have to remind myself the truths I've learned. Give myself the same pep talks as I need them. Because it's not like one day you just decide that "and also" really is true, and then you never have to revisit it again--but you need to remind yourself of it on a regular basis.

Maybe further down the road, after a few more years, I won't need as many reminders.  I will have gotten the messages and themes and truths engrained in my head so that I won't need to keep telling myself the same things over and over.  

But for now, every so often, I still have to re-coach myself on the things I know to be true.  And this week, that it's okay to be happy and move forward in life and also grieve for what was.