tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13149876689991638192024-03-03T00:43:28.159-06:00Drawing from DrewContinuing to draw strength, wisdom, and hope from our DrewHeidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.comBlogger103125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-15765591997953227482023-10-18T16:04:00.000-05:002023-10-18T16:04:13.401-05:00See You Later<div class="separator">The sign out front of the house is somehow the hardest part.
You’d think it would be the least of the things involved with moving that gets
to you. But that sign up is a constant reminder that this is real, it’s
happening.</div><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSINhkAPGXaFWI5rGH3R1qUTDHSBM-wHeDhv6P4qxvnLAbQoW-MWLEfpGVr3kQY_9B4y6TWk-TpmTpuuHWZN5MxQ4X5vMBU87RMJiPFjCKQFcj6VYv6ktrL7XfEvS8RYWtz7gwSsx1Q1D8rfWc-3Pu2q48qW_f4BIgRm694bsZBxnp_Kjn84LeJ686/s2016/393663104_1056762538674767_2068517395810544535_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSINhkAPGXaFWI5rGH3R1qUTDHSBM-wHeDhv6P4qxvnLAbQoW-MWLEfpGVr3kQY_9B4y6TWk-TpmTpuuHWZN5MxQ4X5vMBU87RMJiPFjCKQFcj6VYv6ktrL7XfEvS8RYWtz7gwSsx1Q1D8rfWc-3Pu2q48qW_f4BIgRm694bsZBxnp_Kjn84LeJ686/s320/393663104_1056762538674767_2068517395810544535_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">For the third time in five years, we have a sign in our
yard. Our Colorado chapter is coming to an end, and another is about to begin in
our family’s journey. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We could feel that the time was coming. Josh had gotten some
hints that we should be preparing ourselves for the next opportunity. And in early
September, he got official word. The next role for him within Hormel would be as
a Plant Manager! An exciting step up for him. The plant he’d be at? Corn Nuts! In Fresno, California. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNuEUkHPZDVd6b-ycFQ1x65BbwBHPhddaotPFSyv8v3K6_rcX6uvBvWN5cX7QGjbaQ_Q0Jx2jG07l_2_5qkI4BswcziHZoempWhJ2hei_tSo5-s8IhyU6k34wW4RMAdiwayAhE71SFjpNhXeEMOGKLykGrzbaDTzZbowoN12rYVW3SJ5ShmcT3Qwho/s2048/393838725_704000701621947_3809826625336231897_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNuEUkHPZDVd6b-ycFQ1x65BbwBHPhddaotPFSyv8v3K6_rcX6uvBvWN5cX7QGjbaQ_Q0Jx2jG07l_2_5qkI4BswcziHZoempWhJ2hei_tSo5-s8IhyU6k34wW4RMAdiwayAhE71SFjpNhXeEMOGKLykGrzbaDTzZbowoN12rYVW3SJ5ShmcT3Qwho/s320/393838725_704000701621947_3809826625336231897_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirMjUjpAS4UmXtdkru69QVEiLHuLMM_lAxGnmIGfPUHJxFvTBDIZ7BCIn_fH2aZpGydCfUTxa3W3g8tcKGDy_PLFX-gAqMauu_rlMpVZuc3sFbHm5c9WlWxFzxjJK6D4gKYofTLVkrLjL5RxT0Eq18_PVilvTzi3fWSQ1G5FXj6EuBSKeVnDEWstqz/s2016/393849580_1875037223031462_2229117526185768744_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirMjUjpAS4UmXtdkru69QVEiLHuLMM_lAxGnmIGfPUHJxFvTBDIZ7BCIn_fH2aZpGydCfUTxa3W3g8tcKGDy_PLFX-gAqMauu_rlMpVZuc3sFbHm5c9WlWxFzxjJK6D4gKYofTLVkrLjL5RxT0Eq18_PVilvTzi3fWSQ1G5FXj6EuBSKeVnDEWstqz/s320/393849580_1875037223031462_2229117526185768744_n.jpg" width="240" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjgjw3FUXGvs_Gy6uYRANgfDu_4BdlBx440G0udkPwtCptJxEFFk_7JDwMNQ4cf9ko5oli3TyWei308GuA3hWqTFRKO_IO4lBH3k5o5NhJtDB6tKpA7bzH7xMY13j2xtXPxQJG0YYX1dZg8uj6mM5r3mroprxRYorpfOZSWgl2WzGa1Dhz2m3rfaL4/s2016/394135648_304918522268914_608109967318736372_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjgjw3FUXGvs_Gy6uYRANgfDu_4BdlBx440G0udkPwtCptJxEFFk_7JDwMNQ4cf9ko5oli3TyWei308GuA3hWqTFRKO_IO4lBH3k5o5NhJtDB6tKpA7bzH7xMY13j2xtXPxQJG0YYX1dZg8uj6mM5r3mroprxRYorpfOZSWgl2WzGa1Dhz2m3rfaL4/s320/394135648_304918522268914_608109967318736372_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We are so happy for him! And proud of the career he is building. I know he'll do awesome leading Corn Nuts, and it'll be fun to cheer him on. </p><p class="MsoNormal">Colorado wasn’t going to be our forever home; we knew we’d probably have only a few years here. And where we’d go next was kind of a fun guessing game.
We knew California was a possibility, and when Josh learned that was it, we
took a little bit to get used to the idea--at least I did. It’s a long way from
Iowa and Minnesota! And I had some concerns. But we did a little research,
watched some YouTube videos as any normal person in 2023 would. And what we found was really encouraging. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Honestly, it sounded a lot like Colorado! Lots of outdoor
things to do and see. Hiking, National Parks, and beautiful weather to enjoy. Fresno
is a very ag-centered community in the central valley, something a Midwest family
could fit in to it seems. The housing is actually more affordable than most places
in California, even a little better market than our high prices in Colorado! I
found great school options for Molly—which was one of my biggest concerns. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The more things came together, the more I couldn’t deny that
God was leading us to our next home in California. So many specific prayers were
answered that gave me peace about our family moving the rest of the way across
the country. I felt God reassuring me—do you not trust me? Don’t you think I’ll
take care of you, that I can protect you wherever you go? You don’t have to be afraid.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My heart joined my head and got on board for a Becker California adventure.
<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The last weekend of September I went out to Fresno to join Josh
to house hunt. I watched out the window almost the whole time as the mountains changed to desert, and finally green patches of fields checkered the ground as we made our final decent. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgzRqEF72U1_I4kn9kSizkjCQSBjt3Ntur-R-guu0YK7EAQLvh90Hgw5BBOnDuilsLFWAg4An89XFUJgTqtNK_YtCvlAIYGYv3BrjeuUJLOw_NltKX06MkfHJ9Djx6MFKclCmK2kZCl7JUwRvNTEe4uyPy6ViUdiOfenYLjmMgp57LpwZx3YaHiSNR/s2016/393846377_1281581899190990_8185413216835432196_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgzRqEF72U1_I4kn9kSizkjCQSBjt3Ntur-R-guu0YK7EAQLvh90Hgw5BBOnDuilsLFWAg4An89XFUJgTqtNK_YtCvlAIYGYv3BrjeuUJLOw_NltKX06MkfHJ9Djx6MFKclCmK2kZCl7JUwRvNTEe4uyPy6ViUdiOfenYLjmMgp57LpwZx3YaHiSNR/s320/393846377_1281581899190990_8185413216835432196_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">I got on the escalator and couldn't believe my eyes as what, maybe who, was waiting to greet me in Fresno:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi4mdlBFIGDsLQOLrynNgeNhAx41iFMgx7vWbZWjxjgobEXiRMym8nfMg5W8moidvo32j7rl6K3VVzbCQYrAq4K-cIdtC4x_cOWQgEas8NYzgPwDuR_JORXxOJddDxJDyWq8RhFPzKHIAXUCrrlbqcWRN1Obhe98slljsOapIyoC_S1o3H4LxzZARd/s2016/393629719_2386706085050278_6205545998519134246_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi4mdlBFIGDsLQOLrynNgeNhAx41iFMgx7vWbZWjxjgobEXiRMym8nfMg5W8moidvo32j7rl6K3VVzbCQYrAq4K-cIdtC4x_cOWQgEas8NYzgPwDuR_JORXxOJddDxJDyWq8RhFPzKHIAXUCrrlbqcWRN1Obhe98slljsOapIyoC_S1o3H4LxzZARd/s320/393629719_2386706085050278_6205545998519134246_n.jpg" width="240" /></a> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtzOiM9VKgiE9KQbIBpoH1s8Qbep85dIZ5gwWFokL5Swy9gWQaN-at6Tub_tGslT0ziXleuhrDeHngXw3R_wveVuTwbm7K_gE1eSJ_bo9OY8D0SW_5mGkYMzliJhaJX7HNHQ8wGfXe5qREU2-zp22-7iTzyLwxqMyrkL2iweKfgzoVysf1L8XEWous/s2016/393994821_3335755280049630_2229579934122988423_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtzOiM9VKgiE9KQbIBpoH1s8Qbep85dIZ5gwWFokL5Swy9gWQaN-at6Tub_tGslT0ziXleuhrDeHngXw3R_wveVuTwbm7K_gE1eSJ_bo9OY8D0SW_5mGkYMzliJhaJX7HNHQ8wGfXe5qREU2-zp22-7iTzyLwxqMyrkL2iweKfgzoVysf1L8XEWous/s320/393994821_3335755280049630_2229579934122988423_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><p class="MsoNormal">I couldn't deny the sign from my Drewy 💚💛</p><p class="MsoNormal">Josh had already been in Fresno for a week at the plant and was able
to start the house hunting process early. By the time I got there we were already negotiating
a contract for a new build near the neighboring town/Fresno suburb of Clovis. <o:p></o:p></p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmIt476wQf-T17TaRk50OGGpIRz9wde_YX55mzIJR6CCl3nUyQbboZQ4ImKz59-MioPZC9EBF6gs-hduCF17AVi4DiWMDbRg7IJL8c_xNplL14UXa_zJ1cxAe_5zl5xbb5Awcj-ZF4NiKaAUaKgfJ8IfxJPYb-BX_SjsE0st9dEOR37UU0gP-9C2Hs/s2016/393675579_1508930119871264_8328467948336265840_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmIt476wQf-T17TaRk50OGGpIRz9wde_YX55mzIJR6CCl3nUyQbboZQ4ImKz59-MioPZC9EBF6gs-hduCF17AVi4DiWMDbRg7IJL8c_xNplL14UXa_zJ1cxAe_5zl5xbb5Awcj-ZF4NiKaAUaKgfJ8IfxJPYb-BX_SjsE0st9dEOR37UU0gP-9C2Hs/s320/393675579_1508930119871264_8328467948336265840_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<p class="MsoNormal">We found just what we were looking for in this new build, which is the last new home in the subdivision to be finished! I’ll have a dining
room again, and a big closet <span style="font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji",sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol-ext; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji";">😊</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVJ13xjwAfU8ycAghh8rpGfZ_TnLV5ptE776_U_iWJfibM1unecwFGQV4tosk8BeBq0o1_bZ2q5sKzVnfEfJh1NkJuie_KOkbCcXS_LrQi7rNBixrRypvejbt76noWueLa1_4fxf70NfbLmsCvOHatBH-H1Qf5eMql-WsIqp-HBs_DBR9RtK6WRNoh/s2016/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVJ13xjwAfU8ycAghh8rpGfZ_TnLV5ptE776_U_iWJfibM1unecwFGQV4tosk8BeBq0o1_bZ2q5sKzVnfEfJh1NkJuie_KOkbCcXS_LrQi7rNBixrRypvejbt76noWueLa1_4fxf70NfbLmsCvOHatBH-H1Qf5eMql-WsIqp-HBs_DBR9RtK6WRNoh/s320/1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />I left that weekend really feeling like we'll do okay there, in California. Fresno will be more similar to our home in the Chicago Suburbs, with everything you could ever want within 20 minutes. But it will also have a lot of what we love about Colorado--scenery and weather. I'm not sure how my first winter without snow will go, or if I'll ever get used to palm tree sunsets, but I'll <i>try</i> to enjoy it 😉<div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxnvtYgzueHt2zJb3qjz4tAA3z42-4VnG2Lgl4tmSF0eLT2SyrVzmj8JrUpDU3f6FUa0ePfgRDeAY4RquXTzqGfthYt_FvmudR2sYOUWPPVgdKpFazhg_YL0kBUaApMPEB0jSKsHk22QS5hC8ZGW5wCpcZo_4NwpQdiVUje9nRVRwIZKe9CyxU3y6/s2016/393403365_877412250429849_4982164527967796999_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxnvtYgzueHt2zJb3qjz4tAA3z42-4VnG2Lgl4tmSF0eLT2SyrVzmj8JrUpDU3f6FUa0ePfgRDeAY4RquXTzqGfthYt_FvmudR2sYOUWPPVgdKpFazhg_YL0kBUaApMPEB0jSKsHk22QS5hC8ZGW5wCpcZo_4NwpQdiVUje9nRVRwIZKe9CyxU3y6/s320/393403365_877412250429849_4982164527967796999_n.jpg" width="320" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEienWqRyyCiNwWijtrsIN2B8hEj4fQ__wVbwzcqPtJMQSUs7YwHU8OilBLyDw21xjLy-2SM9obGc2-vczocjbPTcY-nkenFv459a4pZlX2HMj8658RZTPwNs8iVy1EiJS6rV5J_IG7tIyC3z9wzNH9yZqBoLnKDeqNZxfpcf9A5Fr0Yu6134KPY5WZt/s2016/393864788_2236061356589712_6021694550615754986_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEienWqRyyCiNwWijtrsIN2B8hEj4fQ__wVbwzcqPtJMQSUs7YwHU8OilBLyDw21xjLy-2SM9obGc2-vczocjbPTcY-nkenFv459a4pZlX2HMj8658RZTPwNs8iVy1EiJS6rV5J_IG7tIyC3z9wzNH9yZqBoLnKDeqNZxfpcf9A5Fr0Yu6134KPY5WZt/s320/393864788_2236061356589712_6021694550615754986_n.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<p class="MsoNormal">Back on the Colorado side, our house went on the market on
October 5<sup>th</sup>. We had six showings in the first four days, and two offers.
We’ve moved forward with one of them, and the inspection was this week. The final
steps are being taken, and I’m so relieved and thankful that the selling side
worked out so well. More answered prayers!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhipFQ2FCwPbYDyEFxyVonl7wUZf-Tx6f8deJIxnp82yPKe13TNfRrSc8Bx_rybru44Cv2KCUkwbhh8mZpWscbuk_Yx4tBcc-UyiKh_L9EhrS7j1REP1eIxuIv7EivDdu7NBbf-1BXzyIT9kepDwJisOVGVbYi2KHUWR0f9TCxUOsZXLRkRhPuWJhUU/s1890/393370758_963899634707109_3462597379240652227_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1459" data-original-width="1890" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhipFQ2FCwPbYDyEFxyVonl7wUZf-Tx6f8deJIxnp82yPKe13TNfRrSc8Bx_rybru44Cv2KCUkwbhh8mZpWscbuk_Yx4tBcc-UyiKh_L9EhrS7j1REP1eIxuIv7EivDdu7NBbf-1BXzyIT9kepDwJisOVGVbYi2KHUWR0f9TCxUOsZXLRkRhPuWJhUU/s320/393370758_963899634707109_3462597379240652227_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So now, much of the work is done. The big decisions made, the major
stuff figured out. Next month the moving crew will come and pack up our life.
In what's becoming somewhat routine for us, I’ll supervise as almost everything we own is
boxed up, wrapped up, and moved onto a single truck. It’ll pull off, and I’ll know,
there’s nothing to do but follow it. We just have the hard part left, the actual
hard part. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Saying goodbye.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This will be a hard move for us. We’ve absolutely loved Colorado.
The weather as been almost life changing—who knew summers could actually be pleasant,
and winters not brutal? I never thought of myself as outdoorsy in the least,
but in Colorado, I’ve really embraced the opportunity to take in all the
sights, sounds, smells, and experiences of living on the front range. <o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGfKCs-SpCArocK4LyT3QSLlSuAld-CZxbJTH4uxAiTyKUk7i6XvjqgmrlO7qY9nAr6H0i788CF-ZWvXdKiFsI0feMXmWOryPnTChCBF0fXzIhDXRGFcf-HTRUOL1kyRV9R7xhIgZn4kMHscol1GL_zQdqVHQopEL-0jiZYwq7aNbEe4wBt0rePGF/s2016/393851875_879400900479227_7263165258008474824_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGfKCs-SpCArocK4LyT3QSLlSuAld-CZxbJTH4uxAiTyKUk7i6XvjqgmrlO7qY9nAr6H0i788CF-ZWvXdKiFsI0feMXmWOryPnTChCBF0fXzIhDXRGFcf-HTRUOL1kyRV9R7xhIgZn4kMHscol1GL_zQdqVHQopEL-0jiZYwq7aNbEe4wBt0rePGF/s320/393851875_879400900479227_7263165258008474824_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5AQjdsEu8FjAgzBz_KqPi-J6ygzR_pZIDyDqKVN2V5D_RUZ69WjmUVSVQA-haGIc7fS51axD7qOzna6F5Z6hHkk4X6N94sLlOATHEC67vJ5B_SaN-ZnRmuZgtrGbFjTxO9c5YdpjORNpipaxzLHmIkvyNCeKimO68WAaBJizdjH2OGeTbkCVLSUox/s1824/393955102_1104891307170982_4641724628040609455_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="1368" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5AQjdsEu8FjAgzBz_KqPi-J6ygzR_pZIDyDqKVN2V5D_RUZ69WjmUVSVQA-haGIc7fS51axD7qOzna6F5Z6hHkk4X6N94sLlOATHEC67vJ5B_SaN-ZnRmuZgtrGbFjTxO9c5YdpjORNpipaxzLHmIkvyNCeKimO68WAaBJizdjH2OGeTbkCVLSUox/s320/393955102_1104891307170982_4641724628040609455_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHY0SNvCdfpQwL0pPydncxoDxynMYd6vMtixadLHULvayPGm0axOCA1tjGycq6weHzOfNEvpR7y1c7p9Z3MqYYsDJH7NMVfxjdbDinzzxelF-_D37rF1VD3S-lfcf7I5tq1dT06Hl8bEj5drUloQv58IqoctcbB-ZiZCfAV5kgbdi3mmTUwHCC6uI5/s2016/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHY0SNvCdfpQwL0pPydncxoDxynMYd6vMtixadLHULvayPGm0axOCA1tjGycq6weHzOfNEvpR7y1c7p9Z3MqYYsDJH7NMVfxjdbDinzzxelF-_D37rF1VD3S-lfcf7I5tq1dT06Hl8bEj5drUloQv58IqoctcbB-ZiZCfAV5kgbdi3mmTUwHCC6uI5/s320/2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal">Molly and I even went to a rodeo this summer in Estes Park! We felt very Colorado Cowgirl, if only for a night.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhliwap5Oh-ByzvcuA8IVT8_DxUDoj4kwgK0PrueB1VKoyxbgIfCvMlEJ0Xhc7NcXO7M4dg_N80LiEFugpcN4DUrX8lAdcOLAR5ndx5kw2cQJUeORqXwxQZNgc89k2ulKy1wOEPLtLG3YA1PIBTwKROBpR-YlGqtd5Xm5PReRNUKHIPu7MR_7miOzHU/s2160/MGP_RoofTopRodeo_071023_10489inches.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="2160" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhliwap5Oh-ByzvcuA8IVT8_DxUDoj4kwgK0PrueB1VKoyxbgIfCvMlEJ0Xhc7NcXO7M4dg_N80LiEFugpcN4DUrX8lAdcOLAR5ndx5kw2cQJUeORqXwxQZNgc89k2ulKy1wOEPLtLG3YA1PIBTwKROBpR-YlGqtd5Xm5PReRNUKHIPu7MR_7miOzHU/s320/MGP_RoofTopRodeo_071023_10489inches.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifyvE2PWdt5LBGwQLvkccSnqInV1FNSRKmyyJFryjUPt4MV1ILzoSExDGYQfghvP9G0j_qWlhZGnsqv9x7I9Ru0N0iiKJ4n3Mvuhx9ddmTWhUalvY-LhtmKkMEZbjnuR-h4xBzwo1_Zy32FknetxMrLzjAZ1wUfZgNg5P8vYRCE2o-n8Ck_8w0hUCl/s2160/MGP_RoofTopRodeo_070523_06709inches.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="2160" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifyvE2PWdt5LBGwQLvkccSnqInV1FNSRKmyyJFryjUPt4MV1ILzoSExDGYQfghvP9G0j_qWlhZGnsqv9x7I9Ru0N0iiKJ4n3Mvuhx9ddmTWhUalvY-LhtmKkMEZbjnuR-h4xBzwo1_Zy32FknetxMrLzjAZ1wUfZgNg5P8vYRCE2o-n8Ck_8w0hUCl/s320/MGP_RoofTopRodeo_070523_06709inches.JPG" width="320" /></a></div></div><p class="MsoNormal">For the first time, we’ve had family close by. Molly’s been
able to have sleepovers with her second cousins, and I’ve been able to be a
part of my cousin’s everyday life. We’ve really connected with the friends we’ve
made here. Molly has a BFF that will be so hard to leave. I have a BFF that
will be hard to leave! We’ve shared so much life in just three years with them,
it’s hard to believe it’s only been three years in some ways. These will be friendships
we have for life.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEp6EF9gXBOJ6sveuNK_IouA66IoJ8eFFCDkfZlf8yE2Ufti1TuSh6DbcSS8449rHPndMVxzcNVUMg5NToAVVsYaJ-zrTG9o14iHvCd7kQ-srJeiG1UF4kMIXayMMXQo5Ptw4VIUMBhLVElzWYgiukYTyNuweQW4Gdxp4nLeTu760Rjdo6uN_6unTk/s2016/387493957_714071407256560_8379114195496741417_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEp6EF9gXBOJ6sveuNK_IouA66IoJ8eFFCDkfZlf8yE2Ufti1TuSh6DbcSS8449rHPndMVxzcNVUMg5NToAVVsYaJ-zrTG9o14iHvCd7kQ-srJeiG1UF4kMIXayMMXQo5Ptw4VIUMBhLVElzWYgiukYTyNuweQW4Gdxp4nLeTu760Rjdo6uN_6unTk/s320/387493957_714071407256560_8379114195496741417_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDTWju26A8fwxgpbQQniol0O378AeBU2ILxqkhmHow8He6fkqaImUV2uPkY8KRMuCxBJHCovAvMdlbCJGBZ0slSw69UOXjZI1NyMrvmkIkZSIiICfX-Q1GQ39phQus9AD86S2ie2d97QyOsjEksv3lsTY9LHpk30yrl42_rDobNi5Vdah0mz4yBbeH/s1824/387536801_6776714699083949_4185868410786631553_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="1368" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDTWju26A8fwxgpbQQniol0O378AeBU2ILxqkhmHow8He6fkqaImUV2uPkY8KRMuCxBJHCovAvMdlbCJGBZ0slSw69UOXjZI1NyMrvmkIkZSIiICfX-Q1GQ39phQus9AD86S2ie2d97QyOsjEksv3lsTY9LHpk30yrl42_rDobNi5Vdah0mz4yBbeH/s320/387536801_6776714699083949_4185868410786631553_n.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMggUpTd-GATZWm4-mRMjOO-lhWA6Vz43fOxT4_spWOn6gINSQMwEiDQFRqIbaRXsAgcys614K6kR1AAkKRv_OV53_RWBzKr5TKjqmTkQFSWSAW4DyYl3p4sGnNWSQt0hExiJuPqM0RFaMMBlgcbU0bXmnCottIgVoDYb5ZsZUJik5lBkntYIv5JBF/s1824/393971377_311580698256705_6413023235690879813_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="1368" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMggUpTd-GATZWm4-mRMjOO-lhWA6Vz43fOxT4_spWOn6gINSQMwEiDQFRqIbaRXsAgcys614K6kR1AAkKRv_OV53_RWBzKr5TKjqmTkQFSWSAW4DyYl3p4sGnNWSQt0hExiJuPqM0RFaMMBlgcbU0bXmnCottIgVoDYb5ZsZUJik5lBkntYIv5JBF/s320/393971377_311580698256705_6413023235690879813_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal">We’ve become a part of this community and they’ve been so
kind and welcoming. We will miss our neighbors, the post lady, and my friends
at Papa Murphy’s where I get a pizza most Fridays! My CBS ladies, Josh’s work
group, and of course my gym buddies. So many wonderful people that we are blessed
to have had in our lives.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOGpbrimyO056zT5q2_sdPj-vrnRnUSrGFn_1Gb4UjYrE7ayzzYu4MqWac3hNgJztio70vHfKU-c6iLH4cpNnyvRocaxCjT9CugFSO5WwUqBMakjjwAHEhucLCEr66hq5fWZuTdczN8Vf4F4eINM4FyM35-0Z5NLFykjoeVbHz-t9_LUSjxkAZpwhL/s1080/393932403_1310347836510910_8322351131366536276_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="769" data-original-width="1080" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOGpbrimyO056zT5q2_sdPj-vrnRnUSrGFn_1Gb4UjYrE7ayzzYu4MqWac3hNgJztio70vHfKU-c6iLH4cpNnyvRocaxCjT9CugFSO5WwUqBMakjjwAHEhucLCEr66hq5fWZuTdczN8Vf4F4eINM4FyM35-0Z5NLFykjoeVbHz-t9_LUSjxkAZpwhL/s320/393932403_1310347836510910_8322351131366536276_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">It’s a bittersweet time right now. We can be talking about how
far it is to the beach from our new house, as we get ready to leave for a “last”
and trying to hold it together. It’s another “and also” situation. We are excited
for California, <i>and also</i> so sad to leave Colorado. Both can be true at once; one not making the other any less real or valid.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Saying goodbye is never easy, which is why I refuse to do
it. As you all know, in our world, it’s just “see you later”. See you later in this life, see you for forever in the next.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As we begin to take things down from the walls and purge stuff
that doesn’t need to make an 831 mile move, the house is already starting to seem
less like home. It sounds different, feels different. With the sign in the yard
and talking about the move each day, the transition has already begun. Which,
in a way, helps. Even though you desperately want to hold on to the familiar
and the comfortable, the subtle changes, the baby steps, help make the big
steps more manageable. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And I know that’s how it will go in California. Once we get
our photos on the walls there, when our couch is in the living room and we have
our first meal at our dining room table, it’ll begin to feel more like home. Each
piece we put into its place—school, church, gym, favorite pizza spot—California
will feel more familiar, more comfortable. I'll continue to run Warrior Wagons from yet another time zone away and can finish the edits on my book from the new home office. We’ll still miss our Colorado life and friends, just as we still miss our Chicago friends, and our Minnesota ones too.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And unfortunately, we have practice in missing. We know what
it feels like to long for a time, a season, that you’ll never have back. And
maybe that helps us too. After saying “see you later” to Drew, our perspective
has changed. This world as it is now is not our home, ultimately. We all are on a journey
through this life that will have its ups and downs. It’s celebrations and it’s
tragedies. Only through God’s power and strength do we make it through.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">No one knows what tomorrow will bring, how much time any of
us have. The only thing we can do is to be grateful for each gift we are given
and make the most of each day. And each day we have the choice to see the
beauty in this world and grasp the joy, despite all the hardships. Which is why
I couldn’t say no to a big opportunity like this one. I know we’ll gain wisdom
and perspective from California and have the chance to share our story and the
faithfulness of God through it all. Isn’t that what life is all about, what the
point is?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>We're going to close our eyes, hold on tight, and enjoy the ride. Just like a little boy taught me 7 years ago right about now...</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYodD5cKene88o1L_x4SGbyiMzVA6hdYLZ70Bra6sMrAxgDxCmIv0525wnunSLMUupCXaEs70mQuInBQ0uFYJJXVOCxMn7TXIJsD2Dfcm23wvfpSJENtlKxCvC1fWlH7QEcmDgQOGwBR0NFMDUbidDTjB4DdluVRZwGtTQcLY8ndbbpnUClu42VROk/s800/lastdayatourpark2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="592" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYodD5cKene88o1L_x4SGbyiMzVA6hdYLZ70Bra6sMrAxgDxCmIv0525wnunSLMUupCXaEs70mQuInBQ0uFYJJXVOCxMn7TXIJsD2Dfcm23wvfpSJENtlKxCvC1fWlH7QEcmDgQOGwBR0NFMDUbidDTjB4DdluVRZwGtTQcLY8ndbbpnUClu42VROk/s320/lastdayatourpark2.jpg" width="237" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkG0ClUIc9Pm_53AOni5amlaDn9ZXK0DZkD4g0WChRlMhCe_IVFwNBYmNBqz23YsLqX5gOxopH20jpadOcZJzqbhP_KTV1YNe0MBmES9qkocwf18eSZxMgLvRlTOl7GTeeVE8JPQkYPzI7nZWNRzJU4YXwq3_QUx2PnwF3Vq6aZ7ynbZcZPlEpoaJ-/s800/lastdayatourpark3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="592" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkG0ClUIc9Pm_53AOni5amlaDn9ZXK0DZkD4g0WChRlMhCe_IVFwNBYmNBqz23YsLqX5gOxopH20jpadOcZJzqbhP_KTV1YNe0MBmES9qkocwf18eSZxMgLvRlTOl7GTeeVE8JPQkYPzI7nZWNRzJU4YXwq3_QUx2PnwF3Vq6aZ7ynbZcZPlEpoaJ-/s320/lastdayatourpark3.jpg" width="237" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-aonu0E9HuyNKdhd8jf1N-EHM4LbkBvbYssRyM6Vgte2grrVPltB-vCG2kMARwC5cXtc1ub0ekbe5DaSJci5SP7YjcwFS4wx98JAZnkJSSlFLvp_OPJFSh_q7_C40kLJOZH9eoUv6S6xgcbknza-LWb4mhnqauHMZiov00cwottf44JL0nqlnhIwD/s800/lastdayatpark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="592" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-aonu0E9HuyNKdhd8jf1N-EHM4LbkBvbYssRyM6Vgte2grrVPltB-vCG2kMARwC5cXtc1ub0ekbe5DaSJci5SP7YjcwFS4wx98JAZnkJSSlFLvp_OPJFSh_q7_C40kLJOZH9eoUv6S6xgcbknza-LWb4mhnqauHMZiov00cwottf44JL0nqlnhIwD/s320/lastdayatpark.jpg" width="237" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">So that’s where we are at. We are living in our final weeks
in a home we’ve loved, trying to be present and soak it all up. All the while looking
forward with hope and excitement to our next adventure. It, also, won’t be our
forever home, so we plan to live it up and do all the California things. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Next month we’ll follow the moving truck over the mountains,
into the sunset, wiping a few tears I’m sure as we say, see you later, Colorado. You'll always have a piece of our heart 💖</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMWyhyphenhyphenW4EMbKTYdfq_8BSZbUopVBI076ejiX4EoWUhW0PlkXSwvPWzq9wyHWGCO_U6kYjrn7s2qG90l1doC0etWvOSsSpx_6EkJQ_YERVwXWR45kd9GwgYNeR25yNOIG2kuzU4XbWuswhB3TTMBRysWU3n8PGiV1EKnKGXeZDIxTb7jT9Ph20W-iFX/s2016/393509717_1762030977581024_7188034081702158532_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMWyhyphenhyphenW4EMbKTYdfq_8BSZbUopVBI076ejiX4EoWUhW0PlkXSwvPWzq9wyHWGCO_U6kYjrn7s2qG90l1doC0etWvOSsSpx_6EkJQ_YERVwXWR45kd9GwgYNeR25yNOIG2kuzU4XbWuswhB3TTMBRysWU3n8PGiV1EKnKGXeZDIxTb7jT9Ph20W-iFX/s320/393509717_1762030977581024_7188034081702158532_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div></div>Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-41472463280533735282023-08-21T17:03:00.003-05:002023-08-21T17:35:08.928-05:00In the Blink of an Eye<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd1Ykj1JZwtv_TOrGTrFxcNawCRTYkSL_VN5qpT9ykEVDsLMWBM2f98dFDQWdg-QuKJ3Ta9-_Am4XIVkvWqJIxVxPN_PIw4nVkN8BMy3x8Ji4p6DfzRVZVrhsujg67fV1nPP24lQx2qg8RaXtU6qaDEH-02JPNuRlo_boVYoytXAoo_vY9Gn9gsME5/s1802/368334748_299721536082729_8828704023702235754_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1802" data-original-width="1352" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd1Ykj1JZwtv_TOrGTrFxcNawCRTYkSL_VN5qpT9ykEVDsLMWBM2f98dFDQWdg-QuKJ3Ta9-_Am4XIVkvWqJIxVxPN_PIw4nVkN8BMy3x8Ji4p6DfzRVZVrhsujg67fV1nPP24lQx2qg8RaXtU6qaDEH-02JPNuRlo_boVYoytXAoo_vY9Gn9gsME5/s320/368334748_299721536082729_8828704023702235754_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>I turned down the long drive and surveyed the situation. A new school means a new drop off lane to navigate and attempt to get through without delay. Molly had her new sage-green backpack in her lap, ready to put on when we got to the front of the line. The outfit she'd picked out looked nice, and so did the hairstyle she asked me to do for her before we left. As we got closer to the front doors, I gave her the standard mom lines that we say as much to ourselves as to them. </p><p>"Okay well, have a good day! Don't be nervous, you got this. Have fun, and I can't wait to hear all about it when I pick you up."</p><p>"Thanks, love you!"</p><p>And she got out. She didn't look back as she headed in to her first day of Middle School. My heart tightened as I pulled away and headed up the long drive out. </p><p>First day of school. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVeQfWpdczECCO4Y3sU67hc5y7C1KfPY8ZNm_5fQBLBbt9Db99DT_2XNoUyQcO85K5mUV900U4IJnfFyCs86WMGiBJ72wcmogxelOwRsgEuXefOjx9RyTmDTTugaql05KnXFdAN0aNX51rxbHYn2rOfqIXSCyGFx18OQ7sVGyHuqCwn6NodeQqZztS/s1961/7.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1961" data-original-width="1471" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVeQfWpdczECCO4Y3sU67hc5y7C1KfPY8ZNm_5fQBLBbt9Db99DT_2XNoUyQcO85K5mUV900U4IJnfFyCs86WMGiBJ72wcmogxelOwRsgEuXefOjx9RyTmDTTugaql05KnXFdAN0aNX51rxbHYn2rOfqIXSCyGFx18OQ7sVGyHuqCwn6NodeQqZztS/s320/7.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha9J__uv8RV91ObsCzuQqIASpRhfBsms8olSV5xLVp4fNCnNPtnG3PwiKnWJTD5tbPIiaWMQt3PX90oEomLfrOkoZysG1EFnCMIMt3C6zKUlhuY9Ch7SjqLQocd1FBIoIawJ5b3gfXrbH3e0WBZm4OptrdWvkOJbdQsVBKofsGq9USxOQT7qmKAlZB/s1846/8.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1846" data-original-width="1319" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha9J__uv8RV91ObsCzuQqIASpRhfBsms8olSV5xLVp4fNCnNPtnG3PwiKnWJTD5tbPIiaWMQt3PX90oEomLfrOkoZysG1EFnCMIMt3C6zKUlhuY9Ch7SjqLQocd1FBIoIawJ5b3gfXrbH3e0WBZm4OptrdWvkOJbdQsVBKofsGq9USxOQT7qmKAlZB/s320/8.jpg" width="229" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><p>Many moms struggle this week as they realize just how fast time really does go. At first, you don't believe it, at least I didn't. When you're knee deep in babies and toddlers, you feel like the days crawl by. But there are events along the way that remind you just how fast it's actually going. And the first day of a new grade is an undeniable signpost that they really are growing up. </p><p>During certain seasons, they seem to age years overnight. I feel like this pre-teen age that Molly is in now is one of those seasons. Physically, she's now the same size as me--shoes and clothes. And emotionally, mentally, I'm amazed at how perceptive she is, how mature she's become. I catch myself looking at her wondering where my little girl went. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinC_fd7f63lPXavshIrQtxRP6p-_USNyR73L9XDSIkuzCus464-9t7irGfDDo7b-hTSDjW2ZPBXxOvYGGpkXkedcx9VkeT1tsrp9kxXvlpAUxbVyTPxRq91CjFhpui-Hl_NK25_cfoTdOlfxpfZtZ5AV3BCE_dECRhnqthvM_IJtzT5n_0eXIWTDWE/s2016/9.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinC_fd7f63lPXavshIrQtxRP6p-_USNyR73L9XDSIkuzCus464-9t7irGfDDo7b-hTSDjW2ZPBXxOvYGGpkXkedcx9VkeT1tsrp9kxXvlpAUxbVyTPxRq91CjFhpui-Hl_NK25_cfoTdOlfxpfZtZ5AV3BCE_dECRhnqthvM_IJtzT5n_0eXIWTDWE/s320/9.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>We've gotten so close, our little family. And with me being home, Molly and I especially. I'm going to miss my not-so-little sidekick this school year.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAWt0Mxqw7gUTb5CHDTlSx9rbrMJIvbf_zTzmBpI8SJvv2_1I3SCKk1nb1cCIDHh4Tje8bPlK-uYI7ycg1Hf694JwuvjDZ-RTyfP2KKuUKYsy61h6cC3h8jgTch5G05B1aNsDZCFoLUnAfEnPOj7ZNtonQ_GaaTn-f6DTKB_Phj_Yq-Sbip6yg3PT6/s2048/358047424_1392743088250045_3365986656117004879_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAWt0Mxqw7gUTb5CHDTlSx9rbrMJIvbf_zTzmBpI8SJvv2_1I3SCKk1nb1cCIDHh4Tje8bPlK-uYI7ycg1Hf694JwuvjDZ-RTyfP2KKuUKYsy61h6cC3h8jgTch5G05B1aNsDZCFoLUnAfEnPOj7ZNtonQ_GaaTn-f6DTKB_Phj_Yq-Sbip6yg3PT6/s320/358047424_1392743088250045_3365986656117004879_n.jpg" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilSbVCNvw4c5XPem9yjnOBANAW8EafncK39UqB_ycJ6PYILc9w97j-bONaXuwHmmBSUh9-stJUfvqJEfIy8M8UK4iVwSdDXVu6QTnlXKi9-cSKU16V7PkthsYzir6unu4EdBoqymaw_-jlr_S1AiAM7gXxDZgEBeSRmGpkk3ltlhd_4R1HaXbQEOZJ/s1824/368566975_128026160380944_8524845529133009246_n%20(1).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="1368" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilSbVCNvw4c5XPem9yjnOBANAW8EafncK39UqB_ycJ6PYILc9w97j-bONaXuwHmmBSUh9-stJUfvqJEfIy8M8UK4iVwSdDXVu6QTnlXKi9-cSKU16V7PkthsYzir6unu4EdBoqymaw_-jlr_S1AiAM7gXxDZgEBeSRmGpkk3ltlhd_4R1HaXbQEOZJ/s320/368566975_128026160380944_8524845529133009246_n%20(1).jpg" width="240" /></a><br /></div><p>And I think that's why us moms struggle with this week. It reminds us that the sand is falling through the hourglass on our time with our children. They won't be ours forever. Babies don't keep, as they say, and neither do children. They become teenagers in the blink of an eye, and I assume, adults in the next blink. Someday, we're going to have to watch them go, and just be a supporting role in their lives. </p><p><br /></p><p>And at the same time this season, my heart never stops aching for the one that's not going back to school, not growing up. </p><p>I took Molly shoe shopping before her first day. I watched her carefully select the color she wanted, and her face light up with a smile as she looked at them on her feet. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLdcBYo-xi3MslYDNBJ3wVHkQ4maSS2Af9L14PMSqcNsDgCsU7chAPPUIhhXCccdQbs-LT_8SBuIhaXcSsfQCPSItx8qqGdh0dZ98zgoUYbjIYKkGVqvGgbFSnpdgQLNNn7yujJrKyOSk-Ry7QW2044OcTh9ONTLniRpjvrtRnfc0kgPeSMGAnMoUx/s2016/10.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLdcBYo-xi3MslYDNBJ3wVHkQ4maSS2Af9L14PMSqcNsDgCsU7chAPPUIhhXCccdQbs-LT_8SBuIhaXcSsfQCPSItx8qqGdh0dZ98zgoUYbjIYKkGVqvGgbFSnpdgQLNNn7yujJrKyOSk-Ry7QW2044OcTh9ONTLniRpjvrtRnfc0kgPeSMGAnMoUx/s320/10.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>I loved seeing her excited and happy. </p><p>I looked over at the family next to us trying on shoes. Their son had an almost identical look on his face as his mom tied the laces. Is he about 9, like Drew would be? My heart sunk. </p><p>What shoes would Drew have wanted to get for his first day of 4th grade? Would he be all about Converse, too, or maybe another brand? I wonder how big his feet would be by now. On his way to size 13 like his dad, I'm sure.</p><p>All last week I asked myself these and similar questions. Would he have cared what his first day outfit was, or would have just put on whatever was top in his drawer? How would my mornings look if I was dropping off kids at two different schools? </p><p>As I drove home on that first morning of school with tears streaming down my cheeks, I wished I had got the chance to know the answers to these questions as they rang through my head again. </p><p><br /></p><p>Drew never went to school. He didn't have any teachers that got to know him, but anesthesiologists. I never packed him a lunch, but I filled many, many feeding tube bags with formula. The only backpack he ever wore constantly was one that carried his feeding pump around. The closest thing to "classmates" Drew had were kids in the same stage of treatment on the peds floor. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtwQXNNIJHOmayd2miZfj1bDH361gotLfcVBob5Cd5vOSJJ5JfdKhDEa6IdTlovLrsWqU3cmL2wSin6aRUgFpQtEWAWgDZkyxqQbTz6Wm9ugwDk5mNUVSXv5aLJwRjLAIViqbZuOORXKux8uN3ac7LPlyGLViRmHOeQO6iFzPfSPp-7i9RJS37MaH-/s960/firsttimeinbackpack.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtwQXNNIJHOmayd2miZfj1bDH361gotLfcVBob5Cd5vOSJJ5JfdKhDEa6IdTlovLrsWqU3cmL2wSin6aRUgFpQtEWAWgDZkyxqQbTz6Wm9ugwDk5mNUVSXv5aLJwRjLAIViqbZuOORXKux8uN3ac7LPlyGLViRmHOeQO6iFzPfSPp-7i9RJS37MaH-/s320/firsttimeinbackpack.jpg" width="176" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwIwZ5nztCkaYLJTlvk_QScUug8KUvvVEomhJfIrZpo_oR9wBwJpxuBReFMg7weu_MHtNDxne4aA9WFO5uwfy52VuoHlsyNV0VHbGH8pgihsueuAA5n5QDRBXikxkknZ2wi_R86rLy7bNy2oz_5ItLeytO_fxK8SKjcMrERGrxjDphzmvqxQQeFXJI/s720/paintingwithtara.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwIwZ5nztCkaYLJTlvk_QScUug8KUvvVEomhJfIrZpo_oR9wBwJpxuBReFMg7weu_MHtNDxne4aA9WFO5uwfy52VuoHlsyNV0VHbGH8pgihsueuAA5n5QDRBXikxkknZ2wi_R86rLy7bNy2oz_5ItLeytO_fxK8SKjcMrERGrxjDphzmvqxQQeFXJI/s320/paintingwithtara.jpg" width="235" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmK4PjQ7GfF47G_2L-s-1nBx4Nqz09gHmmWQbMGE2cCryec58IzySPdNZE2hLbp-RAQlaDamVdSOF35aHFHp6HK-armmBkCDZqGywq2nEn5X7q-H3JTguhaPJxeBBXuvHrw69SeuUE-yPtCAIhBxv4e5xC9IEd1TUi7iYvXFIAK0Wg7LWgEj06VbQM/s800/radiation2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmK4PjQ7GfF47G_2L-s-1nBx4Nqz09gHmmWQbMGE2cCryec58IzySPdNZE2hLbp-RAQlaDamVdSOF35aHFHp6HK-armmBkCDZqGywq2nEn5X7q-H3JTguhaPJxeBBXuvHrw69SeuUE-yPtCAIhBxv4e5xC9IEd1TUi7iYvXFIAK0Wg7LWgEj06VbQM/s320/radiation2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>I'm sorry you never got to do any of this, Drewy. I'm sorry you didn't get to pick out new shoes, organize your school supplies, go to a Meet the Teacher night. Sorry you spent so much of your short life feeling awful, watching the world go by without you...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEGtuIqLG-OQwTVugD6IQY0hkueoSt39TaiGuULHpBnV8bJJ-rmU18fNsjIXDhqUO5dsjDrZS02oc5uMoSEeiEwavSKqslthS7V1qQCJf2T_MbyRgOZsZNJvztYZCoVh8e4Z6T4qTwSmuK272FGddFRUZ756bGbKbu6fDlsWTxmdPG2eqsGdg-m5Qi/s960/diagnosis%20week3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEGtuIqLG-OQwTVugD6IQY0hkueoSt39TaiGuULHpBnV8bJJ-rmU18fNsjIXDhqUO5dsjDrZS02oc5uMoSEeiEwavSKqslthS7V1qQCJf2T_MbyRgOZsZNJvztYZCoVh8e4Z6T4qTwSmuK272FGddFRUZ756bGbKbu6fDlsWTxmdPG2eqsGdg-m5Qi/s320/diagnosis%20week3.jpg" width="176" /></a> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzbVcdZ-Ul8Nq3sFHLZRR7joPkRiyNpvc6fez08XLgj10EBK0Lnc6XfYYAAV6PjSg7KBdpE57nYdumnVDwuUHPdK7WQMlnB6LFxWZlPXOB_NE9yU_xS8ykNUZ2Y9A8yxmmlpk8q6P757U2dR79Lj3jK_nnTYYbpKvs-mXqOz8N3jjlOvjSH6dQDxoY/s960/saddrew.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="935" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzbVcdZ-Ul8Nq3sFHLZRR7joPkRiyNpvc6fez08XLgj10EBK0Lnc6XfYYAAV6PjSg7KBdpE57nYdumnVDwuUHPdK7WQMlnB6LFxWZlPXOB_NE9yU_xS8ykNUZ2Y9A8yxmmlpk8q6P757U2dR79Lj3jK_nnTYYbpKvs-mXqOz8N3jjlOvjSH6dQDxoY/s320/saddrew.jpg" width="312" /></a></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8rA3zMFVKCxs8m4Rruxth8NvMhjlH0l7OWcwhMtvaiO02FFAqP6-epJVmxSe1yzKoKQs-q-arg03Q9pMyTEaNYxv5dLwXz-6vWQBZyRjiSiPISrqzz0mNIhUY3Aq-ArgUmvgP5MykCP15Y9FI8sD5SOEsINS9XRc9H8bstjCmOJMZynXxcn0FkGhc/s960/windows1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8rA3zMFVKCxs8m4Rruxth8NvMhjlH0l7OWcwhMtvaiO02FFAqP6-epJVmxSe1yzKoKQs-q-arg03Q9pMyTEaNYxv5dLwXz-6vWQBZyRjiSiPISrqzz0mNIhUY3Aq-ArgUmvgP5MykCP15Y9FI8sD5SOEsINS9XRc9H8bstjCmOJMZynXxcn0FkGhc/s320/windows1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><p>By the time I got home, I realized it wasn't just Drew I felt sorry for, I was also sorry for myself. <i>I </i>wanted to do these things with him, too. Why does everyone else get to see their children grow up, while I had to give one back? </p><p>Anger isn't an emotion I have felt a lot in my grief. For whatever reason, I don't usually feel resentful or bitter. I think my faith plays a big role in that. But this week, I'm a little mad that my son isn't starting school too. That I don't have a picture of smiling siblings together on my step from the first day, like all the other moms. I'm upset I can't just be sentimental like everyone else, but instead have this heavy burden of grief on top of it. I know there are moms reading this who have lost a child that know exactly what I'm talking about.</p><p><br /></p><p>Before the first day of school, we had a wonderful summer packed with time with friends and family, hikes in the mountains, vacation to Las Vegas, house projects, movie nights, good food, and new experiences. Last week, we made a list of all we'd done this summer. We smiled and laughed as we recalled the memories made together. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYYLsQR3Y3e61F_l9JmVRen5MXUaG8Wy0FNG3kfP5nyP2ju41LtwjHmNIXN8zoxzYyh8qwjDM-PCB39QdAxfCs0X8IGIXz-XGgvXw72ioE5qNAgna2wUjy14D8Rwh0XUGU3TUDt3ZebQlaTx3uB0GNFpOjn_QPwMUwIWtdyTqlknNxcWFLNNFvp2Ur/s1824/366251621_1534984473942763_2953939799520150287_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="1368" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYYLsQR3Y3e61F_l9JmVRen5MXUaG8Wy0FNG3kfP5nyP2ju41LtwjHmNIXN8zoxzYyh8qwjDM-PCB39QdAxfCs0X8IGIXz-XGgvXw72ioE5qNAgna2wUjy14D8Rwh0XUGU3TUDt3ZebQlaTx3uB0GNFpOjn_QPwMUwIWtdyTqlknNxcWFLNNFvp2Ur/s320/366251621_1534984473942763_2953939799520150287_n.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvdhj58EdFCMkrDfRlW9jn_fOo1jV62On--RsL2HWvrh1UG8tEE30lmZpf6Rv_c41D4i1J8dN8FQ8pmoY_TMHOaOnpcf5Ziz2ZXn9Yg5byxWGhJFCtDAjKuSRaBqUTrjEHD3Aut8ZOzKnhWZbSPbAtWfLiBG3L1hizTtZowd9eiaa53cVFmO9oPkO/s2016/366260005_2724065254398672_5063135748594304514_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvdhj58EdFCMkrDfRlW9jn_fOo1jV62On--RsL2HWvrh1UG8tEE30lmZpf6Rv_c41D4i1J8dN8FQ8pmoY_TMHOaOnpcf5Ziz2ZXn9Yg5byxWGhJFCtDAjKuSRaBqUTrjEHD3Aut8ZOzKnhWZbSPbAtWfLiBG3L1hizTtZowd9eiaa53cVFmO9oPkO/s320/366260005_2724065254398672_5063135748594304514_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivWU7mzjmuCjVKtZjGRadou0publgg3ono4oMj-EZ6WQYHL-ZoVuVneenIXm7Wap-J00evsr1KhBsProihzL1IepNqgxoQOIBYXkNg7BbFgyz8l7g2nq8cQ38s1YqlyRWn6OPt5PhY8wOJsE4ggrhgPYk5YNxqq5v2ZTM8m-KO5HWB1PiOg5SPla04/s1824/366331116_679725227508332_2466699315175957076_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="1368" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivWU7mzjmuCjVKtZjGRadou0publgg3ono4oMj-EZ6WQYHL-ZoVuVneenIXm7Wap-J00evsr1KhBsProihzL1IepNqgxoQOIBYXkNg7BbFgyz8l7g2nq8cQ38s1YqlyRWn6OPt5PhY8wOJsE4ggrhgPYk5YNxqq5v2ZTM8m-KO5HWB1PiOg5SPla04/s320/366331116_679725227508332_2466699315175957076_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh80_V9qDyQbtxNmoJvPtnJvHqpM2rWZxf7p-gUaXMuzSk7_WEbl6Aaz2ZqV6Kp8kiBPR-rJR1jd0Li3-xX4OYI1HobesIGlAj8CL4yNLjnlsNvXPEfhQVu3vOIczKS5neITlV3qGEKDPJERiIfMzklbwbl7NpE6YW1Ftlvv9PApNw6NnOfkLu2eg3-/s2016/367666068_1179204923482790_6851920749969960854_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh80_V9qDyQbtxNmoJvPtnJvHqpM2rWZxf7p-gUaXMuzSk7_WEbl6Aaz2ZqV6Kp8kiBPR-rJR1jd0Li3-xX4OYI1HobesIGlAj8CL4yNLjnlsNvXPEfhQVu3vOIczKS5neITlV3qGEKDPJERiIfMzklbwbl7NpE6YW1Ftlvv9PApNw6NnOfkLu2eg3-/s320/367666068_1179204923482790_6851920749969960854_n.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzjhPEQWRgS0yk2moRO_pwd9FhUYq32xwJdp0ClVh8ca_u07umJUkU-drW84ov_BH4X_7KFlDum7Rgweh4y2lYqPsS34a90TFzaeiLr4JXlY0rAIOKGDQIwiQimwg724RIeV0wJJ71foEeJgDHK5_r2AhzuCCTIooBe0C5nMO1wGvuGd_vIj3Vu2rp/s1824/368349842_816998546796814_334801130184749995_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="1368" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzjhPEQWRgS0yk2moRO_pwd9FhUYq32xwJdp0ClVh8ca_u07umJUkU-drW84ov_BH4X_7KFlDum7Rgweh4y2lYqPsS34a90TFzaeiLr4JXlY0rAIOKGDQIwiQimwg724RIeV0wJJ71foEeJgDHK5_r2AhzuCCTIooBe0C5nMO1wGvuGd_vIj3Vu2rp/s320/368349842_816998546796814_334801130184749995_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqgBDn2uW1UEkECbLuLtiwrqoKyjvOmExbhAHj5LD03BNTYEQQx3k-Bo48acxqe_ProRbECUQSXijG4XnQj5CCWDx1Fjw1OG99pTfid9dz1kC3-zZOi4NROdWX1D8udYzNuPLIc3eTobEhiw9TK8z6O2kz9nMU6Z_BvFuj2buiBLE7gY_GAN59g6MA/s2016/368716751_1082708636467898_5015909374718328655_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqgBDn2uW1UEkECbLuLtiwrqoKyjvOmExbhAHj5LD03BNTYEQQx3k-Bo48acxqe_ProRbECUQSXijG4XnQj5CCWDx1Fjw1OG99pTfid9dz1kC3-zZOi4NROdWX1D8udYzNuPLIc3eTobEhiw9TK8z6O2kz9nMU6Z_BvFuj2buiBLE7gY_GAN59g6MA/s320/368716751_1082708636467898_5015909374718328655_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidPPkQpI6E6iSSP5IMEIedyIymQ-PhteQ02XsKNaMdKGdx7PJYv8ZRGOU927_6CWhBZ7MpgVomXz9mALc4hpIEfESE9AJ2yrOtJvDXEEvEfK2ToxAUL7Ge6b-sv8bqb75dxwVJL04hlPvQRxXu5VlMw7V-pkddlct8PRxcPXoaj_A5cNXutZGj-SMv/s1975/369642788_676114204061641_6114807961868327170_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1975" data-original-width="1482" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidPPkQpI6E6iSSP5IMEIedyIymQ-PhteQ02XsKNaMdKGdx7PJYv8ZRGOU927_6CWhBZ7MpgVomXz9mALc4hpIEfESE9AJ2yrOtJvDXEEvEfK2ToxAUL7Ge6b-sv8bqb75dxwVJL04hlPvQRxXu5VlMw7V-pkddlct8PRxcPXoaj_A5cNXutZGj-SMv/s320/369642788_676114204061641_6114807961868327170_n.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx-i6XCjV4x9Cf1jnkG2GGs1oDS5MvYXtRCvb21YLvK6YlreHtbASIL3E2QK4bPv_aufTWkJdZ8XlmdgtIi9qC0Z7pbpctaQntsKE3vo7vPGmosrdtj1LxLftBDa2EDnOvl8x7VDEvV4atMxEiwilXVSs96q6pAwKMgqOU3aPZsht1YRU2WPAlq05G/s2016/367666068_187135514276991_2315458438215699117_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx-i6XCjV4x9Cf1jnkG2GGs1oDS5MvYXtRCvb21YLvK6YlreHtbASIL3E2QK4bPv_aufTWkJdZ8XlmdgtIi9qC0Z7pbpctaQntsKE3vo7vPGmosrdtj1LxLftBDa2EDnOvl8x7VDEvV4atMxEiwilXVSs96q6pAwKMgqOU3aPZsht1YRU2WPAlq05G/s320/367666068_187135514276991_2315458438215699117_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p>But as always, the great joy wasn't without a little sorrow. The pleasure, without a little pain. Would Drew have been able to make the hike to Delicate Arch? How wonderful if ALL the Grove cousins could be together. I'm sure Drew would have loved the Rodeo in Estes Park! Could he have helped Molly cook a meal once a week for us all? </p><p>That empty chair at the table, the empty seat in the car, haunts us every time.</p><p>One of the things Molly and I did this summer was go through a study on the book Heaven, by Randy Alcorn. It's a really interesting and informative book on what the Bible actually says about Heaven. Based on Jesus's teachings and stories from both the Old and New Testament, it gives a lot of detail on what we know about the Present Heaven, and the Eternal Heaven on the New Earth. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirPkF9952K_oLJr3ALQLGZ84zx_2QP_968AS6ae5ydQDqrj32jnMocSzckm-QBaZidWOAnESCDAcGjt52AKhYvDTwPQ4bfVdWuFCGRewKPbS6o99GD1my0KLluPWiPpKUMhQBs97w95mVVh5g-MxDzpMuFBS-0-1XqGct4DwFqdfEAwIdV4ZKnOn1k/s2016/6.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirPkF9952K_oLJr3ALQLGZ84zx_2QP_968AS6ae5ydQDqrj32jnMocSzckm-QBaZidWOAnESCDAcGjt52AKhYvDTwPQ4bfVdWuFCGRewKPbS6o99GD1my0KLluPWiPpKUMhQBs97w95mVVh5g-MxDzpMuFBS-0-1XqGct4DwFqdfEAwIdV4ZKnOn1k/s320/6.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>All summer we explored various concepts and realities of what awaits believers both right after we die, and in the age to come. One idea discussed was that we will continue to be learners on the New Earth. God made us naturally curious, with a thirst for knowledge. He put into us the drive to explore and to discover. We can reasonably expect we'll have those same urges in Heaven, and they will forever be satisfied. </p><p>So, if learning is a trait God created and encourages, education must be as well. Molly and I talked through this one morning and decided it wasn't a stretch to think that there will be schools on the New Earth, and who would attend them? Maybe the children who never attended one before. All the sons and daughters who never had a first day of kindergarten on this side of Heaven. It would fit in with the idea of redemption. That this opportunity will be redeemed.</p><p>I reminded myself of this hope that first morning of school. It's a hope not just for Drew, but for me. Maybe I will get to take my son to school after all. To be proud of him when he gets a good grade on a test, to cheer him on as he makes his first basket on a rec basketball team. To see him grow from a little boy into a young man in the blink of an eye. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOUj2FuTZljnRKgZM8xJuXisi3dIgNKwaHLQBrqpYiEuVKs5BWQl57D5iLjR8s0FodIOZakHDs5wWQRLXeYgYfYlO2w_YE51anLIkzVbtHDogGuiIbCf_WZLY48rlsOKWN39OBVOsVQzuNFty9GFDC1pDTUw5rBvhhqb4dSeNEb26ikmpufWzXVNHa/s720/Drewwithrandy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOUj2FuTZljnRKgZM8xJuXisi3dIgNKwaHLQBrqpYiEuVKs5BWQl57D5iLjR8s0FodIOZakHDs5wWQRLXeYgYfYlO2w_YE51anLIkzVbtHDogGuiIbCf_WZLY48rlsOKWN39OBVOsVQzuNFty9GFDC1pDTUw5rBvhhqb4dSeNEb26ikmpufWzXVNHa/s320/Drewwithrandy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>It would be a dream come true. I think there will be a lot of those in Heaven. </p><p><br /></p><p>I remember back in Minnesota hearing the perspective of a mom who was in the last stages of parenting. Her youngest was going to college in the fall, and she was asked how she was doing with that. Her response was encouraging. Her daughter was a confident, independent young woman who will do just fine. This was the goal all parents are working towards since their kids are born: to make them functioning, successful adults. She was happy for her daughter and satisfied that her and her husband had fulfilled their role as her parents.</p><p>It's a perspective we all can find encouragement from, especially this time of year. If we keep the end game in mind, as this mom did, we all can meet our sentimental feelings on the first days of school with determination as well. We have a job to do, and each year, we are getting closer and closer to completing it. But maybe that's what scares us, too. We can see it happening. They need us less and less. They don't look back when they get out of the car anymore. And that hurts our mom hearts. </p><p>When I think of the progress of getting Molly ready for the world, I am filled with gratitude and optimism. I know we still have time, and a way to go on multiple fronts, but I can see it. By the grace of God, we are on the right track. She is already a strong, confident girl who has a lot of compassion too. I can't wait to see what God will do in her life, from a supporting role. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxEh_cMPKtS2-1IkjFdiSh4MzgYIoNe2SvVP8yWlV9NSLGllMPoVLG8aYeDo-SY_hr150U0iMYFmbgxjcgt1Lo8QBlZ5pAbmFKoRPSm6BFN2Q7eyt_RrLxJYpNGRkYSbZHOrJBJAdznms6M9CP7RGK_tENRvK2CSt-PWvGwvse5FrhpMFjstB7x4R2/s2016/2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxEh_cMPKtS2-1IkjFdiSh4MzgYIoNe2SvVP8yWlV9NSLGllMPoVLG8aYeDo-SY_hr150U0iMYFmbgxjcgt1Lo8QBlZ5pAbmFKoRPSm6BFN2Q7eyt_RrLxJYpNGRkYSbZHOrJBJAdznms6M9CP7RGK_tENRvK2CSt-PWvGwvse5FrhpMFjstB7x4R2/s320/2.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0--JSXUE2krp2G2nVrVJ-b5rAEkFrs4ghnt7gTyJ7qq9UnDeiJ_g_TRY41uZtJ51MeYsWnGtBNyLNoA0MqttHBniTGk3xQ9enaHntlr2v_mcsb23lu---pXfUY9oHUWDuKvl7dAEQhHmeqMtSpKKjmY86NgWsTYUJT93C0Ql5UKnEcmonCNGOeg7t/s1177/3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1177" data-original-width="662" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0--JSXUE2krp2G2nVrVJ-b5rAEkFrs4ghnt7gTyJ7qq9UnDeiJ_g_TRY41uZtJ51MeYsWnGtBNyLNoA0MqttHBniTGk3xQ9enaHntlr2v_mcsb23lu---pXfUY9oHUWDuKvl7dAEQhHmeqMtSpKKjmY86NgWsTYUJT93C0Ql5UKnEcmonCNGOeg7t/s320/3.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRt3kJMYmjZENcw94Vlvd2tgkgdgGv9kSPUao8IaSF6W9A-gW5Pla3_KxWWX9EJH7v3hNEO5oeYy1-ADi9Cus8No_NWXiMJCwLs_isFmlg72mopaGI_ysnQzWKPzqLa2gFJcYVuexIbsfMrtd8TTfZmOVg91IdFNE-cY5TZ7Hc7xnmbWZYCNS-bOs2/s2016/1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRt3kJMYmjZENcw94Vlvd2tgkgdgGv9kSPUao8IaSF6W9A-gW5Pla3_KxWWX9EJH7v3hNEO5oeYy1-ADi9Cus8No_NWXiMJCwLs_isFmlg72mopaGI_ysnQzWKPzqLa2gFJcYVuexIbsfMrtd8TTfZmOVg91IdFNE-cY5TZ7Hc7xnmbWZYCNS-bOs2/s320/1.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWC9AMEdUnHMizWp99U8nBDPNNPeXlHzWDfS9fCULOLNqMB4zo0BnfC719c2U9HOwDj4P4ePfy5rUCEMlJSkoCCGqPa1Pa3PqpaHS4dwpLmRWNrrKTECGOWvCRWXIf6oBLN0HKuI4w1mCXJ3LB3WxbvjTDVihsPHo0w3T_14xwbAfILdaNTJB3sVX5/s2016/5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWC9AMEdUnHMizWp99U8nBDPNNPeXlHzWDfS9fCULOLNqMB4zo0BnfC719c2U9HOwDj4P4ePfy5rUCEMlJSkoCCGqPa1Pa3PqpaHS4dwpLmRWNrrKTECGOWvCRWXIf6oBLN0HKuI4w1mCXJ3LB3WxbvjTDVihsPHo0w3T_14xwbAfILdaNTJB3sVX5/s320/5.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /> </div><p>And you know what? I guess I could say the same about my Drew, and even go a step further. If our job was to get him ready for the world, make him confident, independent, and successful, I guess we did that, didn't we? He handled so much more than most of us will ever have to with strength and love. He brought others joy and taught them about life without even trying. And when it was time for him to go, he wasn't afraid, he didn't look back. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfA-ANl8amwFF9OeEo-lBUoIs80VD4w4AkOECgwr4nMp-ZRf8KGCz_gXTVQuJ-ilZ626jLmK3wE8oBh0tOrRdF-3kY1zEQlEJ9msi2lEJ86NCspSssiC82_1eei2Hz2tdUcHJW_97K7W7cM8A2Lgiy4Oh3z_n3L3Zn5ZcjtfR6x-glY9bi6JIhvj0a/s960/Drew'sbirthday.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfA-ANl8amwFF9OeEo-lBUoIs80VD4w4AkOECgwr4nMp-ZRf8KGCz_gXTVQuJ-ilZ626jLmK3wE8oBh0tOrRdF-3kY1zEQlEJ9msi2lEJ86NCspSssiC82_1eei2Hz2tdUcHJW_97K7W7cM8A2Lgiy4Oh3z_n3L3Zn5ZcjtfR6x-glY9bi6JIhvj0a/s320/Drew'sbirthday.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigmkgAWLQKZ1RKsavLf-tK2tTAERxlPrMGXJZ3sewIai1NYOFKpDvZmcicUUAQdL64v9AyjJc236h-MUVgLQqkkMXskRW-oYoPmD3tE75g25lU1F9W9RfwynqFQ2VfILtj8E50XFDRc_MqeWIfAkKnXC3s7UM91Hb86llcTrGoOnjBUT-HiwOa6VQe/s5312/mollyanddrew.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2988" data-original-width="5312" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigmkgAWLQKZ1RKsavLf-tK2tTAERxlPrMGXJZ3sewIai1NYOFKpDvZmcicUUAQdL64v9AyjJc236h-MUVgLQqkkMXskRW-oYoPmD3tE75g25lU1F9W9RfwynqFQ2VfILtj8E50XFDRc_MqeWIfAkKnXC3s7UM91Hb86llcTrGoOnjBUT-HiwOa6VQe/s320/mollyanddrew.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAG4SN0CrNFF2ZZN1ADmhOqcQTDrMTNcmIo49K5nnXYGs6U8kzeJGM8JpxNKWC4bpL9CbpyPesncJyQKwt4xGEemguzM7BSdgUiCXWLFkvo0CX5DLmy5Io4HWpJerNIVzo7sgXOHYoKlysn0xX05bo-linIU8g5d2U3Oz3Qy3_LX7LP4cmNeLfdqZw/s960/smiles.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAG4SN0CrNFF2ZZN1ADmhOqcQTDrMTNcmIo49K5nnXYGs6U8kzeJGM8JpxNKWC4bpL9CbpyPesncJyQKwt4xGEemguzM7BSdgUiCXWLFkvo0CX5DLmy5Io4HWpJerNIVzo7sgXOHYoKlysn0xX05bo-linIU8g5d2U3Oz3Qy3_LX7LP4cmNeLfdqZw/s320/smiles.jpg" width="176" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1SvgpRbw_DedLuc3oHbPRszVqbSJSFfIp8j-m1JBzUh23BkMdbbv1ZUJvlAD_mIDRL92tIfvHtHdFIZuQld05HqjIgoRHm7CeUjvSl2HAF16g98zPoPl2UOZDlM0lejKBGLHJhO4qWw1AxRa6B6xC2c7Ogp7Ut6oU7We9t8Nnul7vVmf2XZDCLqAF/s960/choose%20courage.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1SvgpRbw_DedLuc3oHbPRszVqbSJSFfIp8j-m1JBzUh23BkMdbbv1ZUJvlAD_mIDRL92tIfvHtHdFIZuQld05HqjIgoRHm7CeUjvSl2HAF16g98zPoPl2UOZDlM0lejKBGLHJhO4qWw1AxRa6B6xC2c7Ogp7Ut6oU7We9t8Nnul7vVmf2XZDCLqAF/s320/choose%20courage.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIaZpULSrHJ9OE0uM2NLmHhkW3M27V9B0mLOhr9A-qpLsZep_3_ApM23Tb1CSRU6aYOz_XdV9WLJncIfg0bQjwfGbciBX0EidypmaRoGHQNte5XUIc-KgmZzcBEG78RI36t1nVPKRYOX6QxQyH7ubbOBZDsJT5kTScK_Kp690_LJ8eDF1TgEP_hW6/s960/13012870_10103210002301620_3301593973303549180_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIaZpULSrHJ9OE0uM2NLmHhkW3M27V9B0mLOhr9A-qpLsZep_3_ApM23Tb1CSRU6aYOz_XdV9WLJncIfg0bQjwfGbciBX0EidypmaRoGHQNte5XUIc-KgmZzcBEG78RI36t1nVPKRYOX6QxQyH7ubbOBZDsJT5kTScK_Kp690_LJ8eDF1TgEP_hW6/s320/13012870_10103210002301620_3301593973303549180_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>So, I guess I can sit here, on this first full week of school, with peace. Even though I'm a little sad, there is comfort. Yes, Molly's growing up and needing me less, but that just means we're doing our job. I can savor these days, make the most of them, and have no regrets when it is time for her to start her own life. </p><p>And I can have peace, along with hope, that the firsts I'm missing with my Drew will be redeemed someday, that they aren't lost forever. We accomplished the job God had for us as parents in preparing Drew for the next life, beyond this one. </p><p>I dry my tears and head out the door to pick up Molly with the expectation that keeps me going every day: we will get to be with our Drew again, in just a blink of an eye 💖</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge8xUL2brehB4bo0eZ9uEwAW-GlRVJHBTIMn75rMX2YHK3Nzob6x8roPmeVcT3Ag3906JzsCjqhZI0qWijeVGbvvpjwdXK8kTl_TBtZLRGUMVONAYMa9xycCykFYBW8pVCt4kkOlPS_9_XL4r2KT9QEFsvi6JQmfsgkjp1tNpTqskK42aDD9i8beXA/s960/16602570_10103998269228380_3300498040612631028_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge8xUL2brehB4bo0eZ9uEwAW-GlRVJHBTIMn75rMX2YHK3Nzob6x8roPmeVcT3Ag3906JzsCjqhZI0qWijeVGbvvpjwdXK8kTl_TBtZLRGUMVONAYMa9xycCykFYBW8pVCt4kkOlPS_9_XL4r2KT9QEFsvi6JQmfsgkjp1tNpTqskK42aDD9i8beXA/s320/16602570_10103998269228380_3300498040612631028_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p>Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-6096018812217259502023-01-13T14:44:00.000-06:002023-01-13T14:44:06.711-06:00Timing<p>Well, after 16 months of work--some weeks more intensely than others--I finished the first draft of the book. I printed two copies, one to work with and one as a keepsake.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6EdP0befHwCyue2vYOAfEv_fUe9yeVLfBy1j3Gj5jXDGfYzNo54dbja8638wser7y-jIFba8TTC42rFyHmG9Q790eIq4ondeeYZ5UN8kHyGG8_jRhNqnJS8FU27kHZzMmYAevc56JktUOKcKBbYf2ThoCoKFDzMYkM6lT-hXrUoAFHqabS5UKyA/s2016/Grasping%20Joy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6EdP0befHwCyue2vYOAfEv_fUe9yeVLfBy1j3Gj5jXDGfYzNo54dbja8638wser7y-jIFba8TTC42rFyHmG9Q790eIq4ondeeYZ5UN8kHyGG8_jRhNqnJS8FU27kHZzMmYAevc56JktUOKcKBbYf2ThoCoKFDzMYkM6lT-hXrUoAFHqabS5UKyA/s320/Grasping%20Joy.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>There is a possibility that it'll change, but I really like the title. Josh actually suggested it when we were discussing how Choosing Joy or Finding Joy seemed too overused and cliche. But the book really is about joy and how to experience it during difficult seasons as illustrated through our cancer journey with Drew.</p><p>"How about Grasping Joy? You have to really hold on to it in tough times." </p><p>That's it! And as someone pointed out, it can also mean that we really came to understand joy that year, grasped the concept. The book kind of explains joy or teaches it through the story.</p><p>Perfect!</p><p>There's still plenty of work until it's actually done. At 276 typed pages and 146,269 words, there will be some thinning out to do first! Multiple rounds of editing. But at least I'm through the story. I poured over each CaringBridge post and personal journal entry from Drew's last year of life. I went through photos trying to gather details for certain moments in time--the pattern of the pillowcase, the look on Drew's face. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHIm7Qa-XwgfbWGj6CokKN5hj5dkdsbJZs53fzj1ggvyvAaiywfRJF6ZWOAJ3XnOr2zlgDQky1xvqwptq_U5etG1bdAXRcIDs-7ZEr1hPxsSOgTVg-R45jT-ZzjXM4Piv2rNWnikctOZprwhtG4Wt3qlpE2B7CoH10NNRHDdH2vcAicQL1u6fyVQ/s2016/Details.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHIm7Qa-XwgfbWGj6CokKN5hj5dkdsbJZs53fzj1ggvyvAaiywfRJF6ZWOAJ3XnOr2zlgDQky1xvqwptq_U5etG1bdAXRcIDs-7ZEr1hPxsSOgTVg-R45jT-ZzjXM4Piv2rNWnikctOZprwhtG4Wt3qlpE2B7CoH10NNRHDdH2vcAicQL1u6fyVQ/s320/Details.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>On the blog here I use a lot of photos to help tell my stories, but in a book, I have to create the pictures in the reader's minds. Bring them on the journey with us through good descriptions. Something I found very challenging at first but started to get more comfortable with.</p><p>I got the first draft done the week before Christmas break. I gave myself that deadline so I could put it away, rest from the emotional work over the holidays and through the first of the year. The books I've read on how to write a book say to leave it for at least six weeks, so when you come back to start editing, you have fresh eyes and a new perspective. So that's what I'm doing!</p><p>Thank you to everyone who encouraged me along the way. My friends who listened to me as I processed the part of the story I was working on. Who gave me sympathy again and again as I sat with my grief. I really couldn't have gotten through to the end without people cheering me on and reminding me of why I was putting myself through this again. In a way, we all finished this big first step!</p><p><br /></p><p>As I was bringing the story to a close in December, reliving the last joy-filled moments our family of four shared together in Disney World, God was working in the present. We've been praying about and working to secure a fourth branch of Warrior Wagons ever since COVID. But we kept hitting road blocks. The hospital we thought was our next one, fell through this fall. It was disappointing and left Josh and I frustrated. </p><p>I started praying--if not that hospital, then where? If not that family to coordinate, then who? We kept ourselves open to other opportunities, while I kept writing. And then in November, someone approached us about getting Warrior Wagons in their hospital. She had heard about Warrior Wagons from someone at a nurse's conference and wanted to find out what it would take to bring them to her patients. </p><p>We set up a meeting with the child life department, and details were worked out quickly. When it's meant to be, it's amazing how fast things can come together! I sent the first round of supplies to our new coordinator, and the first Warrior Wagons were given out at the hospital the week of Christmas. God answered our prayer of a new branch to Warrior Wagons in 2022, with just a couple weeks to spare!</p><p>So, on the same week I wrote the last line of the book, another chapter of the story was unfolding around me. The timing wasn't lost on me. I sat in awe of how God knows just what to give us when we need it most. On that week, as my son died again in my writing and I sat looking out my window totally broken a second time, God provided a reason for hope. For joy, once again. I was shown the good still coming from my Drew's life. Seeing some of the purpose in His plan as I read the first application that came through.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs1w8FSEUmqJ4YIbXdxdH61hdj9VX1q5c4RUboGtVl0ig3qyYG_HSqTuODX49EAbUlzYqklFCm0sslQxQH2GEdTyy8To15daDt4lXdULk6wsfvY3lwUZxctO1aqqjJp4ryRVoiYSD4wJcUC8eGXoNORQAV_MvkSm1rIAt9hx4bx8hSxyc0OtYYUg/s960/Finn,%20Masoni.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs1w8FSEUmqJ4YIbXdxdH61hdj9VX1q5c4RUboGtVl0ig3qyYG_HSqTuODX49EAbUlzYqklFCm0sslQxQH2GEdTyy8To15daDt4lXdULk6wsfvY3lwUZxctO1aqqjJp4ryRVoiYSD4wJcUC8eGXoNORQAV_MvkSm1rIAt9hx4bx8hSxyc0OtYYUg/s320/Finn,%20Masoni.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>Drew's Glory Day is coming up. Next Thursday, January 19th, will be six years. Six years since the journey I just chronicled came to an end. Remembering the time just before his death, when we went on his Make-A-Wish Disney trip is just as painful as the week Drew died. The weeks were so close together, and in such contrast. The best week of our life followed by what I hope will be our hardest. </p><p>Disney week was such a gift. It was the climax of our journey to real joy on this Earth. The happiness and love we shared was larger than life, went beyond our circumstances. Drew's sparkle seemed to fill the whole park. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV8CGkp8btpON4Gt80qMxpBS6h-SM-QigiiHEcyGc14xqXbEgywU8gNcS9L_T1Zdfbs0nfpm2tHLPksc1ffClN2I_uwmL25OW89p7RcLWNbjR0QUN9NFl8OVQWTvYR_1P60RLlk1sqY3NrEe_2ze1PY7WNR3waCvxEgLMUt-WSeDz5TIaeQ0gW5g/s1944/Mom&Drew.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV8CGkp8btpON4Gt80qMxpBS6h-SM-QigiiHEcyGc14xqXbEgywU8gNcS9L_T1Zdfbs0nfpm2tHLPksc1ffClN2I_uwmL25OW89p7RcLWNbjR0QUN9NFl8OVQWTvYR_1P60RLlk1sqY3NrEe_2ze1PY7WNR3waCvxEgLMUt-WSeDz5TIaeQ0gW5g/s320/Mom&Drew.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj19ofEYp3KbpNZuZqMDpTYRJYjgis4w9wUlO1KEWZJptBVxF_EI0kPQHh4G5waWz9O1xRU6YlGKm-sxciWYlg4xRlsusgZuxBmrT1L54u35dBp2u6J1fW8nevCfHhsmxmblBvJe-GW71pzT5LtnDLd4y5UmkPWPnCluKLdFKuDGiHTFRwvbghKfg/s2016/Disney%20love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj19ofEYp3KbpNZuZqMDpTYRJYjgis4w9wUlO1KEWZJptBVxF_EI0kPQHh4G5waWz9O1xRU6YlGKm-sxciWYlg4xRlsusgZuxBmrT1L54u35dBp2u6J1fW8nevCfHhsmxmblBvJe-GW71pzT5LtnDLd4y5UmkPWPnCluKLdFKuDGiHTFRwvbghKfg/s320/Disney%20love.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEmy0Grt2Ph7W65Nh7stkhE07r6Tn2OHJ4aMwJqFkHxJMEdBKCzCrbTRtjN0jHvnoR4MVUUkr69amWHr18De1SaaT2RDpty0-W3bdVIMWtwsrfgt1akRQnjtVPtWMLj6sfcSxWrvsNLRR82HaylvZHjmQL2cE0XfsvIq71eXVECjNAD4i7kH-T_w/s2016/Giggles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEmy0Grt2Ph7W65Nh7stkhE07r6Tn2OHJ4aMwJqFkHxJMEdBKCzCrbTRtjN0jHvnoR4MVUUkr69amWHr18De1SaaT2RDpty0-W3bdVIMWtwsrfgt1akRQnjtVPtWMLj6sfcSxWrvsNLRR82HaylvZHjmQL2cE0XfsvIq71eXVECjNAD4i7kH-T_w/s320/Giggles.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>But its incredibly bittersweet to know that his sparkle would go dim just over a week later. He'd be gone, our little boy would leave us for Heaven, and we'd begin our own journey--with grief. </p><p>And it has been another epic journey, our journey with grief. Transitions, stages, realizations, and acceptance. Sharing the path we found forward after such a tragedy could be the subject of another whole book. When I look back to where we began, those early weeks after Drew was set free, I can see how far we've come along that path. I'm sure you can see it too, as you've followed along. </p><p>Another Warrior joined Drew in Heaven a few weeks ago. As I exchange messages with his mom, and with our own death anniversary approaching, I'm reminded just how tragic this ending to the cancer journey is. How unfair, how awful it is that any mother has to give her child back to God. My heart goes out to her, because I'll never forget what it feels like. It tears your heart out, it really does. A part of you dies with your baby, you're a different person after you leave the hospital for the final time without your child. </p><p>Over the last six years, though, I've come to really like the person I've become. Which doesn't mean I have to like how I got here, of course not. But that I recognize and appreciate what God has done through our devastating loss. How much he's grown us, the places He's led us, and the work He's given us to do. </p><p>On break from the book, as we mark another year without our son, God is showing me the big picture. Reminding me that He really does work all things together, revealing to me the ways He is still using our pain for something bigger. And that really is a comfort, exactly right now.</p><p><br /></p><p>Because boy, I still miss my Drew. The phrases he used, the way he teased and joked around... </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtLqrivqmWNXNMzjjoEiz7BfUDanz2ld1E1i83e8SfAD1Q8bmrhF93OYKXLmuFquKkk1zHITjczncaHBVJZgSpiUpqZDbv9CtOCnTYiMsDiOLcd0U0WOoc0iFsJh7Q43ElBDVl3UvVcVHVyse4N6S3XDmi8QTbOk9CQw-UX4qOmRmec_30dizK6A/s320/4-20b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="320" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtLqrivqmWNXNMzjjoEiz7BfUDanz2ld1E1i83e8SfAD1Q8bmrhF93OYKXLmuFquKkk1zHITjczncaHBVJZgSpiUpqZDbv9CtOCnTYiMsDiOLcd0U0WOoc0iFsJh7Q43ElBDVl3UvVcVHVyse4N6S3XDmi8QTbOk9CQw-UX4qOmRmec_30dizK6A/s1600/4-20b.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfsggMbK_uddzyH1RcApqiHMi4xpoSSFivinEIYdKbt-YpcDDIyijydop9blPnDueqjheutez3Vhc5xCmrzXwKRJb3YafuvNmyEixdnPd0AxBrpTSpRCIlSdxqU1XlTLa4KJpZXz1LXbEcM6JEP_CS1p502Pa5pqJxD5lyVnV6X-Z0nKmlsbPXJw/s720/blue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfsggMbK_uddzyH1RcApqiHMi4xpoSSFivinEIYdKbt-YpcDDIyijydop9blPnDueqjheutez3Vhc5xCmrzXwKRJb3YafuvNmyEixdnPd0AxBrpTSpRCIlSdxqU1XlTLa4KJpZXz1LXbEcM6JEP_CS1p502Pa5pqJxD5lyVnV6X-Z0nKmlsbPXJw/s320/blue.jpg" width="235" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="text-align: left;">Drew was SO full of life, up until his very last day. He pushed through, kept going, even when it got hard. He had grit, a buzz word as of late. But if anyone had grit, it was our Drewy. </p></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhjvXo1z4hwMrKk2OPjSbz4KbJd9OgMegWEY295bTFDY4m1KMR56tmwf4liS_3r6WYe6Kb3zGagd5UJkxwaxTcjnsNzE5QFdRBq79Hxta0JjjFVxfAPflvKz1KZkr9t40NexLL57gWbrupkJyQwtdz36xuhs298rgMLMXPawyPqxE8gS589TBxAw/s800/dadlove.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="503" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhjvXo1z4hwMrKk2OPjSbz4KbJd9OgMegWEY295bTFDY4m1KMR56tmwf4liS_3r6WYe6Kb3zGagd5UJkxwaxTcjnsNzE5QFdRBq79Hxta0JjjFVxfAPflvKz1KZkr9t40NexLL57gWbrupkJyQwtdz36xuhs298rgMLMXPawyPqxE8gS589TBxAw/s320/dadlove.jpg" width="201" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMMWlRjbCxDxqU5ItGVNeUd4dvwOKmt-ADwH-lK1bwKADYxTbvj9C9e8AvVHzDl9q5ZuilNRHPxGHW_7PEVCBv06hm7E0Ml0xyRYNmkipQlOcClVtBbaBFC5pMwk8r3YVAsOQWofssbuLv5SJ86SZxpb4xLQwNFSumlFm0hv9Om2vTGHCSkLDI_w/s720/mandd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMMWlRjbCxDxqU5ItGVNeUd4dvwOKmt-ADwH-lK1bwKADYxTbvj9C9e8AvVHzDl9q5ZuilNRHPxGHW_7PEVCBv06hm7E0Ml0xyRYNmkipQlOcClVtBbaBFC5pMwk8r3YVAsOQWofssbuLv5SJ86SZxpb4xLQwNFSumlFm0hv9Om2vTGHCSkLDI_w/s320/mandd.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">How poised and wise he was, at just two. He had a joy that cheered everyone up around him. </span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0u-vWDWBOF1Zy9QTUJtDUB8JnsTIuUkqkTwcoL4VWgd5BlcuZgUhX7e23yt-56Nv4stGsfI4suOiD3AjHpxns9HhhS8zwAj434o8KPn6rstZB6-TWn1QH3ugc6r7vXVA4ixZxKnlP5atqjkjjs0vBIbUawgXYY7UokY8eRrczkz6Y_b1g696i0Q/s960/snuggles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0u-vWDWBOF1Zy9QTUJtDUB8JnsTIuUkqkTwcoL4VWgd5BlcuZgUhX7e23yt-56Nv4stGsfI4suOiD3AjHpxns9HhhS8zwAj434o8KPn6rstZB6-TWn1QH3ugc6r7vXVA4ixZxKnlP5atqjkjjs0vBIbUawgXYY7UokY8eRrczkz6Y_b1g696i0Q/s320/snuggles.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Gosh, I just wish I could jump back into these photos. Kiss his sweet face, feel his weight in my arms again. Breath in and <i>smell</i> him again...oh I hate that I've lost that smell. I will spend the rest of my life longing for my baby boy, my precious son. </p><p>He was in my dreams recently. I don't dream about him often, but just last week we were together. I was trying to give him a bath, but he kept standing up. I told him to sit down over and over. He was smiling and being ornery. Baths were always a part of our days, especially in the hospital. A special time that was always the same, no matter where we were. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-cY8_tQFvpS64GTrdH2wiHPgISOBv2WsTQUCC1jnF7jFwQvf8EHC_LmRdWhY_s6qeQK6eLwZJDLZ3QB42Za2ZzoV3hqZX6ndxgvEdmCMqw1fbXj0qqlKBMmqMUO4UkDMOzWprFQL2df1mysRvGQ70sIthr9Mz7dO9LJjcGy8EIk3nGmJCoCi4HQ/s800/liveinthemoment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="774" data-original-width="800" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-cY8_tQFvpS64GTrdH2wiHPgISOBv2WsTQUCC1jnF7jFwQvf8EHC_LmRdWhY_s6qeQK6eLwZJDLZ3QB42Za2ZzoV3hqZX6ndxgvEdmCMqw1fbXj0qqlKBMmqMUO4UkDMOzWprFQL2df1mysRvGQ70sIthr9Mz7dO9LJjcGy8EIk3nGmJCoCi4HQ/s320/liveinthemoment.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>In my dream I carried him on my hip and we walked out of the bathroom after we were done with the bath. And then...then I woke up. And before I opened my eyes, I felt a wave of sadness that the dream was over, that he was gone again. It's always hard to get up on mornings when I've dreamt about my Drew.</p><p>But you know? I'm far enough along in my journey of grief to recognize his energy, his joy, in the present. There's been enough time, I've grown enough to allow the memories I recorded in the book and the dreams I have of him to not just make me sad but brighten my day. I can bring his sparkle into my life again, share it with the world, which brings me great joy.</p><p><br /></p><p>I don't know what will happen with the book once I really am done with all I can do. I have a couple of people who have offered to edit for me. Which I'm thankful for! But from there, I am praying God will keep leading me into the next step. Go ahead of me and set up my path. Put up signposts and markers, arrange connections with people to guide me into publishing.</p><p>I've now spent over a year writing about how He did just that in 2016. The truths, promises, and lessons I learned as we went through cancer with our son are fresh in my mind as I move forward with this project that is very daunting in its own way. But I won't let the enemy discourage me. No, I can't make anything happen on my own. The book will never be good enough if it's all up to me. But with the Lord's help and His hand of favor, nothing is impossible. </p><p>We prove that, by where we are today. Six years from when we sat beside our son as he took his last breaths, and we looked up to God because we knew we couldn't move forward on our own without Him. Since then, He kept His promise of never leaving us. Of helping us through. And then He continues to add to the story we thought had ended on January 19th of 2016.</p><p><br /></p><p>On this Glory Day especially, I'm thankful you're done with your earthly journey, my Drew. It was hard, and sad. I just spent 16 months crying about all that happened to you, all the times you hurt and I couldn't make you feel better. A lot was asked of you, there was a lot you had to endure without understanding why. </p><p>I will try to keep moving along on my own journey, even if I don't understand each step. Let God use me as He did you. Trust His timing that is always perfect. Not too early, never too late.</p><p>I will bring you with me Drewy, watch for your presence in this world. Always looking forward to the day I hold you in my arms again sweet boy, give you a baths, kiss your face, and smell your smell 💖</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN58Pf47nrG4B1g1lXjgWGUz6vX43e783U14zIIPWNsOQbYcImigjkC6weKw7E0StQ8DCvG5uSyHYn7-wwmsujcdB692fQZYJD6JlpsXAbPGLXefT5yOe6ww9FaC7QV3UlzfX9UGXPiaNFr_N_gbTuArFWz-8fvLLHOQQWYI8YZvFkBWBKnAFk8Q/s720/19141440_10104371223430170_1168125271_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="641" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN58Pf47nrG4B1g1lXjgWGUz6vX43e783U14zIIPWNsOQbYcImigjkC6weKw7E0StQ8DCvG5uSyHYn7-wwmsujcdB692fQZYJD6JlpsXAbPGLXefT5yOe6ww9FaC7QV3UlzfX9UGXPiaNFr_N_gbTuArFWz-8fvLLHOQQWYI8YZvFkBWBKnAFk8Q/s320/19141440_10104371223430170_1168125271_n.jpg" width="285" /></a></div>Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-13887503262237309602022-09-12T18:30:00.000-05:002022-09-12T18:30:04.419-05:00The End of the Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>It's November 1st, 2016.</p><p>I've been diligently writing Drew's story since school started last year, and I've made it this far, to this day. </p><p><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvCIv4h7I5LM85mPhRKH3ZI8AKJbae0u0CCfg7fIoOo_jtztvnxqSwUqPQJ2ZAf4AefXQXjA79_IjcwGNDkzo-xx0I8Bk9O2oaK6VY4AOBLhdwHq8pv7H54PPExH52JW3HPZwF_CfKZAQkLpmw8KIbidEYN__tPPWRf_qN1HQ0RR_68qXCtukuHA/s320/book%20writing.jpg" width="239" /></p><p>I am ten months into the story that has included some tough weeks. Weeks where I couldn't hardly continue, remembering the specific suffering my Drew endured along his journey with childhood cancer. </p><p>I saw those weeks coming--the bowl obstruction, when stem cells collected, infection during transplant, and when Drew got C-diff, to call out a few. They were trying weeks six years ago and were still hard this year to go back through and record the details. </p><p>It's not like I'd forgotten the three days he was hooked up to a six-foot suction tube from the wall to rest his digestive tract during cycle 3, or the way the bone marrow stimulant shots made his bones ache before each stem cell collection attempt, or just how many lines he had running drugs into his body at certain times. But those details were just tucked away, left where they had been placed six years ago. </p><p> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix7eIvh2bYOj3x_6tN1gJ-9Ac0Le74WRAj4VmwBcCqqYf6V1A7MYcnbZC-54_mhzOjnNvj7WDcVKAoVKWuRlg3-VJPQkm1KtYAFpnfuHOL4J0SlwmJFo6ihR3jllSEVV5i5k23tGbH49s7Eq69JPDnM_f4EbQtt7QgY33fuNRdTIpVuPA-yOOuYA/s960/postop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix7eIvh2bYOj3x_6tN1gJ-9Ac0Le74WRAj4VmwBcCqqYf6V1A7MYcnbZC-54_mhzOjnNvj7WDcVKAoVKWuRlg3-VJPQkm1KtYAFpnfuHOL4J0SlwmJFo6ihR3jllSEVV5i5k23tGbH49s7Eq69JPDnM_f4EbQtt7QgY33fuNRdTIpVuPA-yOOuYA/s320/postop.jpg" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzKTxhJV0gJ9pg09SKNAjg8XdLG8WZHfc8Rh_SUduQaqszl0XuqOp5HjPaZ0pm9_0JVS99Na3y2hq-7lvpNsX5yB-EL5czm6kEyBxK6l1r9pBXSTNASdRNGh8cfmBzZfvnHFvObTs-z8UnlRcmywVtJW4ZvFMxgZNqKKGPUGuKX0ZzC8YTOme6Mw/s1033/owies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1033" data-original-width="672" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzKTxhJV0gJ9pg09SKNAjg8XdLG8WZHfc8Rh_SUduQaqszl0XuqOp5HjPaZ0pm9_0JVS99Na3y2hq-7lvpNsX5yB-EL5czm6kEyBxK6l1r9pBXSTNASdRNGh8cfmBzZfvnHFvObTs-z8UnlRcmywVtJW4ZvFMxgZNqKKGPUGuKX0ZzC8YTOme6Mw/s320/owies.jpg" width="208" /></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY0qruoMYcAbNF9-ADftk5qP-TfpgcltyPpIkFKWG4Xgo5MX1STvoHtj0J1sRzzEFsNfSJ6XT1wzQlOufiOxAsB26Z1IEc9BX9NrdDT8xEq-KjpAOw18yq04G6y3sh3a-Dl6DR14mP0--i4riehgQoTUsUGaPqo1j6i5rnDxA6hjF2jQ7R0MJl6w/s960/pole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY0qruoMYcAbNF9-ADftk5qP-TfpgcltyPpIkFKWG4Xgo5MX1STvoHtj0J1sRzzEFsNfSJ6XT1wzQlOufiOxAsB26Z1IEc9BX9NrdDT8xEq-KjpAOw18yq04G6y3sh3a-Dl6DR14mP0--i4riehgQoTUsUGaPqo1j6i5rnDxA6hjF2jQ7R0MJl6w/s320/pole.jpg" width="176" /></a></div><p>And it hasn't been only the particularly difficult weeks that have been hard to revisit, but remembering the general feelings found in the parent's experience of childhood cancer. The exhaustion from countless nights of administering medications and changing bedding and little boy jammies after night-time pukes; the homesickness and missing the rest of your family during long hospital stays; and worst of all--the helpless feeling of wishing you could take the place of your child and give them a break from the sick and the pain.</p><p>Feelings that become so familiar and constant, you almost forget how heavy they are as you move along on your child's journey with them.</p><p><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="935" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaZgp_li4-mn6ymI0LntL-3n1VJ2BgipOKjPkCtMsp6sSM1zABH5jc1HgJ2c_ZZf9yzFwsqeus2B46jk-alILk61g2dEzifBhvns075wfrFq8SPwr7rZPe9vSSFnRpsZF4OBoUdShSeJkN8dZbhXH5v1H9JE9HSW8FsM1OEK3YcjdQp0VQo950FA/s320/saddrew.jpg" width="312" /> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrOJE0aryiOhSi3eT_YKaRKClcYtN5gZXh18ipQgKGOA_k0JEw_m_KCuMzTkadnstTsplav10Cgx3iGMYf7c-UIc4LYg4x7S1axFH_uZciU5UmUVdetBDTQ_RXrwKiSVOrFBM8_EaqBU908xH0xO0poX5mngbJIHqrzMvXAv7CO55m0jX92d-VtA/s720/holding%20hands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrOJE0aryiOhSi3eT_YKaRKClcYtN5gZXh18ipQgKGOA_k0JEw_m_KCuMzTkadnstTsplav10Cgx3iGMYf7c-UIc4LYg4x7S1axFH_uZciU5UmUVdetBDTQ_RXrwKiSVOrFBM8_EaqBU908xH0xO0poX5mngbJIHqrzMvXAv7CO55m0jX92d-VtA/s320/holding%20hands.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>But as I dig into the CaringBridge updates and my personal journal entries each week to move the story along, I have been amazed at God's grace shining through. The small but meaningful moments when God showed up during those times when I thought Drew or I, would break. The miraculous ways we were used for something much bigger than we knew as we just kept our head down and marched on. And the undeniable joy God taught us to find in each day.<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcL5B_5t_MZbjMquP5zFceOUGEdPkcOFDP4t48ZC3aZ0WsFSwpb2tpnKm-ZDLzBnQm3gxBFqq-T568rLwDkT419U2FQ-j5GbTuDeYanRgjyIB_hdwbq6I6kRN-pcJ5lnto60EvHdrpgnQ74C1JFhxoPt1WrnxcCiKyAGpzb0Pl0fFIwmibq6nQ6A/s5312/walkingthehalls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5312" data-original-width="2988" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcL5B_5t_MZbjMquP5zFceOUGEdPkcOFDP4t48ZC3aZ0WsFSwpb2tpnKm-ZDLzBnQm3gxBFqq-T568rLwDkT419U2FQ-j5GbTuDeYanRgjyIB_hdwbq6I6kRN-pcJ5lnto60EvHdrpgnQ74C1JFhxoPt1WrnxcCiKyAGpzb0Pl0fFIwmibq6nQ6A/s320/walkingthehalls.jpg" width="180" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjp_UmarIFGPkdrax3SCh6uBV6hE-IHnhc-V5OB0iRGPtdrG3wb5tJoy3djuDIYCReEjxA-gxdSg_2kcFIotjMRz5szf1_BfnV6VPX2bPM9pHjW-WMJ_eYS5971aLtGU6AR2UCZox5iJcG3kknM8HSSOElQNAYUss2sS1mD7IZyHz85WVfvCXDgQ/s1936/Josh%20and%20Drew.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1936" data-original-width="1458" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjp_UmarIFGPkdrax3SCh6uBV6hE-IHnhc-V5OB0iRGPtdrG3wb5tJoy3djuDIYCReEjxA-gxdSg_2kcFIotjMRz5szf1_BfnV6VPX2bPM9pHjW-WMJ_eYS5971aLtGU6AR2UCZox5iJcG3kknM8HSSOElQNAYUss2sS1mD7IZyHz85WVfvCXDgQ/s320/Josh%20and%20Drew.jpg" width="241" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_RFJ6j1BPjcnlmdyzwXT2DSwdgIY9vcd6V8dgb0dFNQv0aiUkd3P8tWZ4nBK58FtF5InMFKawfEWcp_8zBr3RxB2XZWVCWyNlX1ouKoTNZqcx1OAhBR2cIlDxohWUxex1kLEso6GVnLxvVTsdFgDKN8bcenTDh_8LWtByNxMNO8hARR_oqADxIA/s720/m&d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="540" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_RFJ6j1BPjcnlmdyzwXT2DSwdgIY9vcd6V8dgb0dFNQv0aiUkd3P8tWZ4nBK58FtF5InMFKawfEWcp_8zBr3RxB2XZWVCWyNlX1ouKoTNZqcx1OAhBR2cIlDxohWUxex1kLEso6GVnLxvVTsdFgDKN8bcenTDh_8LWtByNxMNO8hARR_oqADxIA/s320/m&d.jpg" width="240" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><div>The good weeks have been hard to write too, to be totally honest. Recalling the celebrations of successful surgery, transplant days, and ringing the radiation bell hurt in a different way, and maybe in a worse way. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih3sxij4WizuomI8m2hoT0NfEExnua0cJLnMGP8ntKmQwuZdG5VTmMhIgQSvcAlGvD9HPReyNbJJP3tUMwtuwJkJakiE3UD-hQPq49kZfWnFXbpGP0JYimSmjgJm9SVn14wPj9o7e4It5fVFG8Otoo7zgbrExAySFuAAc4ZtO71oUsmgoTj1e7MA/s720/surgery%20day%20preop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih3sxij4WizuomI8m2hoT0NfEExnua0cJLnMGP8ntKmQwuZdG5VTmMhIgQSvcAlGvD9HPReyNbJJP3tUMwtuwJkJakiE3UD-hQPq49kZfWnFXbpGP0JYimSmjgJm9SVn14wPj9o7e4It5fVFG8Otoo7zgbrExAySFuAAc4ZtO71oUsmgoTj1e7MA/s320/surgery%20day%20preop.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM-CEb6bpzCNzOe1QCBpn7ogyIujk4PqqF_9tnEuQWzhNUGYUSqHVGbAm0vGNPILSKJWP-9YrXHGxrTnfNNkP1c5T9K_urLoDkxcyc-YtGg-HNwAlYi_694KvZ0-z81nGvLm3wa6zmD0wQ9lMtjybrRvhD5wdzMWRMtPI8CayG96r2AI22A3ZeaQ/s720/nurses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM-CEb6bpzCNzOe1QCBpn7ogyIujk4PqqF_9tnEuQWzhNUGYUSqHVGbAm0vGNPILSKJWP-9YrXHGxrTnfNNkP1c5T9K_urLoDkxcyc-YtGg-HNwAlYi_694KvZ0-z81nGvLm3wa6zmD0wQ9lMtjybrRvhD5wdzMWRMtPI8CayG96r2AI22A3ZeaQ/s320/nurses.jpg" width="235" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiACLM8u5Pw_V2OiPaSbGuCbFyKt8szqUeOEzvA-P8ZueuAqNPC76qx6tS2ovldNQG-7Pd-HbQpaOV3r9kq3g_5dFXelfXvvnOqd-GNIXW9LMnwP6vigLGx6BhMFoPKWOrlye0RoKFgVS-Rav1nqU8Von-FC6781HbiqfifHEPABU6Zfj2prFYbNQ/s800/radiation4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="683" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiACLM8u5Pw_V2OiPaSbGuCbFyKt8szqUeOEzvA-P8ZueuAqNPC76qx6tS2ovldNQG-7Pd-HbQpaOV3r9kq3g_5dFXelfXvvnOqd-GNIXW9LMnwP6vigLGx6BhMFoPKWOrlye0RoKFgVS-Rav1nqU8Von-FC6781HbiqfifHEPABU6Zfj2prFYbNQ/s320/radiation4.jpg" width="273" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Watching the hope build, the relief wash over our family after crossing each milestone, is more than bittersweet in hindsight. A twisting of the proverbial knife, knowing how the story ends. I'm grateful for those triumphant days but wish so bad it hurts that it had led up to a victory on this side of Heaven.<p><br /></p><p>And that's where I am today, where I pick up the story. On the day we met with the Oncology team on the day after Halloween to discuss the 2 new spots of Neuroblastoma. They showed up on the last scan before we were supposed to begin immunotherapy. We learned that day that Drew would not survive this disease, his prognosis had changed to terminal. It was actually the beginning of what would be the end. </p><p>Most of you know how the tragedy unfolds. How in just over 11 weeks, Drew would leave us and this world behind for a better place. Cancer would end his life, but his soul--his sparkle as we explained to Molly--would finally be free of the weight he'd carried in his body for most of his short life. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsco72Bez4DZ37rk2Ql0McQl-pfz2vSNJBfQIwGWOhu2cmJT4OkLmu2JKzMN-AIU9iGE9TyznBNl3zY3fntxSfKSeq335KvaqEKCNnOHUo6LhaBI439oTbUMp6selzVDiyWq3fLuhzNGhmRmAlG_ctoWCjDZ9SpLXfSi5Qk2RaxoYWaZr1UlSNVQ/s960/FinalER.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsco72Bez4DZ37rk2Ql0McQl-pfz2vSNJBfQIwGWOhu2cmJT4OkLmu2JKzMN-AIU9iGE9TyznBNl3zY3fntxSfKSeq335KvaqEKCNnOHUo6LhaBI439oTbUMp6selzVDiyWq3fLuhzNGhmRmAlG_ctoWCjDZ9SpLXfSi5Qk2RaxoYWaZr1UlSNVQ/s320/FinalER.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHoHhSBTvRdXEg-pCt8nrVpb_u-JsHqsPoafDiFvBh0DCJvHUzMJYaJxbgyWC6Zi_uSXRWicfbaAYHJd9-xD6Qe1hMltnxo86RSCet4LaH2gVpB50dcOGHg9ELRmFvBVHK09hAVyIIGqnICQm-Nmu6KDdbElI4YOaeu_ChBN3dR04pVGUlER0UMw/s1440/Molly%20At%20Service.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHoHhSBTvRdXEg-pCt8nrVpb_u-JsHqsPoafDiFvBh0DCJvHUzMJYaJxbgyWC6Zi_uSXRWicfbaAYHJd9-xD6Qe1hMltnxo86RSCet4LaH2gVpB50dcOGHg9ELRmFvBVHK09hAVyIIGqnICQm-Nmu6KDdbElI4YOaeu_ChBN3dR04pVGUlER0UMw/s320/Molly%20At%20Service.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>As I brace to bring the book, Drew's story, to a close, I'm fantasizing about ending it my own way. Rewriting it so that my boy lives and is here today instead of taking his last breath before he even turned three. </p><p>It might follow this rough outline:</p><p>The scan that everyone anticipated to be clean, was indeed free of disease. Drew and our family had yet another celebration on the heels of ringing the bell after radiation before beginning five cycles of immunotherapy.</p><p>Each round was difficult, as warned. There were some long nights, some scary moments. But God was with us, as always, and gave us strength to prevail. We learned some more lessons on gratitude, trust, and joy which added to our faith.</p><p>Drew continued to grow up in his last phase of treatment. He graduated to a big boy bed, finally moving out of the crib. We cheered him on as he learned to use the potty for good--ushering me in to a diaper-free season the more traditional way. </p><p>What had become Drew's signature bald head filled in with thick, darker hair. It only took him a week to transition back to table food after removing his feeding tube, and the physical transformation was striking from just six months earlier when he was in the heart of treatment.</p><p>He was fitted for hearing aids and that lifelong journey began. There was a sharp learning curve, but all of us got used to Drew's new hardware quickly. Although it was hard to fine tune so-to-speak, make adjustments to them with a two year old's input. </p><p>Finally, we finished immunotherapy, and plans were put together to go on our Make-A-Wish trip. The last hospital stay was complete, the last pill was taken. Drew successfully completed cancer treatment for the very dangerous stage 4, high risk, neuroblastoma making him a survivor just before his third birthday. A birthday we celebrated in Disney World, where wishes really do come true.</p><p>Today he is a living reminder of God's faithfulness and mercy. Drew's sparkle still fills our home, and his favorite thing to do is cheer people up, make people smile. He has all the energy of a little boy, but now in a big kid body. Gratitude fills my heart every morning when I wake up with my family, my two ducklings. They are in 5th and 3rd grade, and we continued to live each day to the fullest, not taking a moment together for granted. </p><p><br /></p><p>I wish I could write that out, and somehow it would be true. Like I could alter the past and create a new reality with my keyboard. I think my narrative sounds pretty good, pretty realistic. Not without hardship, and honoring God. </p><p>But it's just a fantasy. Wishful thinking. The real story is much more dreadful, more heartbreaking. </p><p>Looking back, much like at the time, the biggest emotion I feel at this turning point in our story is disappointment. We were so, so disappointed that after all we had been through, after all the prayers and hope, it wasn't going to work. The cancer would take over Drew's body, and put out the light in our family that we loved so dearly. </p><p>I've wrote before about asking why. How I decided there was never going to be an answer to why that satisfies this mother's heart. To me, there always could have been a better way. Some other plan that would have accomplished as much but would have allowed me to keep my son. </p><p>This way is just not fair. Not fair to my Drew, who endured, cooperated, and trusted us the whole way. I've had to pause on my writing days to cry for what happened to him. All those hard weeks that he didn't deserve--no one does--and remembering his smile through it all. His drive to just be a little boy, despite what was going on around him and to him. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyNP5ZRI0WKSBCxcaRcAy7PLDyUOIJmHkELGq6rrtYDlMtYEVoLbPqrouvwPoA1LYw3E1vio1EES5CAyR-0zoYAxGCTo5sQNiFRCvmpiJa1BtEcRpGoVFq0ksKOSwOYkj5kot7deVHtTD1ZI--2jfenBqDHTlPEU3X1gNZgsDesrSMXigSSRSj5g/s720/sparkle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyNP5ZRI0WKSBCxcaRcAy7PLDyUOIJmHkELGq6rrtYDlMtYEVoLbPqrouvwPoA1LYw3E1vio1EES5CAyR-0zoYAxGCTo5sQNiFRCvmpiJa1BtEcRpGoVFq0ksKOSwOYkj5kot7deVHtTD1ZI--2jfenBqDHTlPEU3X1gNZgsDesrSMXigSSRSj5g/s320/sparkle.jpg" width="235" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1J8uHtX1RJWH87FS0VmkEb2rWhHFoMBh6TTkULRxkWlnXOtiAkaKwb6BEKZSiJR3UaICCXrtIa5Zf3LguIXIgw9I1RaE4Si5atlFoCn0_teioc3451b2g4_NhjPcQ3ltP0FG7ubaLpUG7y_x8Bn-hPKxIh9iYSJ38Vlci7RXsmPsngXlEeOxYpQ/s720/carsandtrucks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="626" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1J8uHtX1RJWH87FS0VmkEb2rWhHFoMBh6TTkULRxkWlnXOtiAkaKwb6BEKZSiJR3UaICCXrtIa5Zf3LguIXIgw9I1RaE4Si5atlFoCn0_teioc3451b2g4_NhjPcQ3ltP0FG7ubaLpUG7y_x8Bn-hPKxIh9iYSJ38Vlci7RXsmPsngXlEeOxYpQ/s320/carsandtrucks.jpg" width="278" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJtoAPS0d21A_PjEbHV4iUZ7JsJrLNj9s4G2fxmAas_lFToQgRUNywxxKQ7hs4SDvkvnpNvq_3YuBtykSXF45YxPrkQ-3kNyhyNg7Z-2JQl759j7_LYe8_jUAaUR0K9nRFBmomlbTsb4IOC6ttdbWet-QOR32juevq8frZSzoXvl824fL0m5CIA/s800/liveinthemoment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="774" data-original-width="800" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJtoAPS0d21A_PjEbHV4iUZ7JsJrLNj9s4G2fxmAas_lFToQgRUNywxxKQ7hs4SDvkvnpNvq_3YuBtykSXF45YxPrkQ-3kNyhyNg7Z-2JQl759j7_LYe8_jUAaUR0K9nRFBmomlbTsb4IOC6ttdbWet-QOR32juevq8frZSzoXvl824fL0m5CIA/s320/liveinthemoment.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>God has reasons for why he allowed Drew's story to end as it did. I just have to keep trusting that someday, I'll understand. </p><p>I know in my heart that Drew understands. For a while now I've had a strong feeling that Drew knows all that came of his suffering, maybe even all that is still to come, and he'd do it all again. The pain wasn't too much, the ending wasn't too disappointing. The cost wasn't too high for what it brought to the world, for what it fulfills in the Master's plan. Time and time again as I've sat and cried this year for what my Drew silently endured, I've been given that peace, that reassurance that it's okay. Drew's okay with his story, from beginning to end. And if that's true, then I guess I can be okay with it, too.</p><p>No, I don't have my son here as a living reminder of God's faithfulness as I would in my wishful account. But is living today in Drew's memory just as powerful a reminder of His faithfulness? Is the shocking and sorrowful ending the Lord wrote more effective at displaying His goodness and love? Would it be as impactful of a memoir to write if we had lived happily ever after?</p><p><br /></p><p>There is another place we see God's faithfulness and provision in this reality--through Warrior Wagons. An organization ran in Drew's memory, that brings joy and hope to families on similar journeys. We may have begun the program if Drew had successfully completed treatment, but certainly not when we did and with as much energy out of the gate. Warrior Wagons was born from Drew's death, and today we've shared his legacy with over 300 families at 3 different hospitals.</p><p>When I switch between writing the book to Warrior Wagon work each week, I'm thankful for the reminder that Drew's story really hasn't ended after all. His life continues to cheer up and make people smile to this day. We have to look a little harder for his sparkle in the world, but it's still here.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOJqa7V20vUYSylHBb3eA5YBGwdGiGMHxeMOlPpDIiZeGM8ugNiKba2GmrbZJlHo5LadpCrgVOpmY4LiK-J7386dXBrCZgM20m6EH43D-CeUS5gT0muK-BixOEYWjjx6tLifhmgcRAG4H1roHdFJSmhEW9kZkvPvQ_Zery4SKFHQHuJQGpc6F7bg/s960/Brody-Mayo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="708" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOJqa7V20vUYSylHBb3eA5YBGwdGiGMHxeMOlPpDIiZeGM8ugNiKba2GmrbZJlHo5LadpCrgVOpmY4LiK-J7386dXBrCZgM20m6EH43D-CeUS5gT0muK-BixOEYWjjx6tLifhmgcRAG4H1roHdFJSmhEW9kZkvPvQ_Zery4SKFHQHuJQGpc6F7bg/s320/Brody-Mayo.jpg" width="236" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMIK2N301MipLw3EpzWml_cvIvWLJsyzQitkh3v_ySDXEf7k-JOJnS_-tqjEpP3jpMC8jojheRaBaTpNXCpXlmHNj9jZMCU_dRJZCosnNBt6EspnCqjTIHCJvp2xp8tKCniohsWZ07igdU7MDoPOVrkd3IAY2A2inZdqF9j0tBSGjSLlrNn5pEqA/s944/Vada,%20Mayo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="944" data-original-width="850" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMIK2N301MipLw3EpzWml_cvIvWLJsyzQitkh3v_ySDXEf7k-JOJnS_-tqjEpP3jpMC8jojheRaBaTpNXCpXlmHNj9jZMCU_dRJZCosnNBt6EspnCqjTIHCJvp2xp8tKCniohsWZ07igdU7MDoPOVrkd3IAY2A2inZdqF9j0tBSGjSLlrNn5pEqA/s320/Vada,%20Mayo.jpg" width="288" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUj64vWEzKsDPzR7BqaaIW7RCcF_jW-fFkFJrnS6f3TDWCGb-KSa4CFZ21RkRlP5LF0c4Y8ErjAZO-L4kIWskQjzLxknnrwsdbWYFD_wA8geOorud6hWjtCLnUGwwtdjh2oeNC0WdDDkgWdGYFCekOGouDoaH_nt6e_RT3_moccY2ygiTTG5yF_g/s695/Dominic%20Priester.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="695" data-original-width="582" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUj64vWEzKsDPzR7BqaaIW7RCcF_jW-fFkFJrnS6f3TDWCGb-KSa4CFZ21RkRlP5LF0c4Y8ErjAZO-L4kIWskQjzLxknnrwsdbWYFD_wA8geOorud6hWjtCLnUGwwtdjh2oeNC0WdDDkgWdGYFCekOGouDoaH_nt6e_RT3_moccY2ygiTTG5yF_g/s320/Dominic%20Priester.PNG" width="268" /></a></div></div><p>Yes, there is goodness in God's ending of the story, my head knows there is. My heart realizes it, too. </p><p><br /></p><p>I really want to get through this initial stage of the book, finish the first draft. Like I said, I've been working on it now for a year, I started when Molly went back to school last year. We've continued to live our life as I write, celebrating holidays and taking vacations. But I plan to pick up the pace a bit here, in an effort to have it done by Christmas break. It will be nice to not work on it during the holidays. Have some relief from routinely recalling these difficult memories.</p><p>I've covered a lot so far and have actually gotten most of the way through. This last part though, the last two months, I know are going to be a challenge to my resolve. But you know? The first 10 months of the journey haven't been easy to put together. Just like in the story itself, I will rely on the Lord to give me strength, inspire the words, and carry me through to the last events of Drew's life.</p><p>I won't include my version of the ending of our journey in the book, even though I'd like to. No, I will complete this story with God's ending. Continuing to trust that it is actually the best ending. Knowing it really isn't an ending at all, just the beginning of a new chapter for all of us. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiieYfh6k4aGDxFVhtaMXWz2nE64QVJGhxtzMawrj1zu9sbkxabD6CSeoTV777xwc2ihp-Y_cT0C5lPW8juvMCLIwxFtVRzzzkmj1hdUtBHxrNOer-OezcAI4t3oOUNlxn7QJqlLHLbwSniaZ8t4vLQ5VfvmwVnJiNJvsEGd7-EWLo2HbkO1H6DSg/s2048/293103811_5368518769849976_4736392945263876808_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiieYfh6k4aGDxFVhtaMXWz2nE64QVJGhxtzMawrj1zu9sbkxabD6CSeoTV777xwc2ihp-Y_cT0C5lPW8juvMCLIwxFtVRzzzkmj1hdUtBHxrNOer-OezcAI4t3oOUNlxn7QJqlLHLbwSniaZ8t4vLQ5VfvmwVnJiNJvsEGd7-EWLo2HbkO1H6DSg/s320/293103811_5368518769849976_4736392945263876808_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7s3Q5Bf22OshQlrweI8pnA28UgqaU5bODqHpKOq-crNDAn-kfdycYVwOZtLWsVO0XYpYzgqCMgHUynHs3HbhORSneHFZEJ3wTdolVC1pLNpA7d2_Uet0lOs5pYqwv-OW2X7AJQSL-5P_xT6cwlRK48U4PJEoroM31w-BIeZNjbco03pJuKccRjw/s5760/IMG_8421.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5760" data-original-width="3840" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7s3Q5Bf22OshQlrweI8pnA28UgqaU5bODqHpKOq-crNDAn-kfdycYVwOZtLWsVO0XYpYzgqCMgHUynHs3HbhORSneHFZEJ3wTdolVC1pLNpA7d2_Uet0lOs5pYqwv-OW2X7AJQSL-5P_xT6cwlRK48U4PJEoroM31w-BIeZNjbco03pJuKccRjw/s320/IMG_8421.jpg" width="213" /></a></div></div><p></p></div></div></div>Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-19157348881141627642022-03-31T16:15:00.000-05:002022-03-31T16:15:21.423-05:00Drew's Birthday<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsCRFud1hzJQawWyV6RodhpC8F2qd8AN9WddBjNKxleQNIQ6oRkhNkdWHf4AnxvxHfqoc8DcBDRIFhLqaDzlA1hAstNoDnrroefxggbJYq0dSQLbgEbCZR4ipjGqRnBscn3GOOmwtSMMvBvzlZduG0Lv11kqQCSNwRmWe4XrrLiK1k3B__JWt_jA/s3360/IMG_8368.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3360" data-original-width="2240" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsCRFud1hzJQawWyV6RodhpC8F2qd8AN9WddBjNKxleQNIQ6oRkhNkdWHf4AnxvxHfqoc8DcBDRIFhLqaDzlA1hAstNoDnrroefxggbJYq0dSQLbgEbCZR4ipjGqRnBscn3GOOmwtSMMvBvzlZduG0Lv11kqQCSNwRmWe4XrrLiK1k3B__JWt_jA/s320/IMG_8368.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><p>Tomorrow, my Drew would have been eight years old. </p><p>He would have been, if he hadn't died before he even had the chance to turn three. We've marked Drew's birthday five times now without him. Each time, it has been hard. </p><p>His birthday is harder for me than his Glory day. I think it's because on his birthday, it highlights what could have been. It points out not just his life that was lost, but the <i>life </i>that was lost. Years, decades, an entire lifetime of milestones that will never be achieved. Events that will never take place. Moments that have been put on hold until the next time we are all on this Earth together.</p><p>Birthdays take a parent, and a mother especially, back to that first day with the newborn baby. It reminds you of the journey that was taken together, you and your child, bringing them into the world.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWk28Zf0bGOVZHOSGBL0B_97TmLrkB8hye3o-rGhEMIbJ0mjciLTGlooT1a7yhZnDcwcYEiGP2MGQEoQUBw60UneHLTJsxHVJvrMe8848UFLFsNi8862WKpB8PKKO1Ezi5WB0qPnk-ZcknnOy52_Wj98_KVDP0Ywi_kmTOwGi3GT_U5EYm299BWQ/s5184/IMG_3979.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWk28Zf0bGOVZHOSGBL0B_97TmLrkB8hye3o-rGhEMIbJ0mjciLTGlooT1a7yhZnDcwcYEiGP2MGQEoQUBw60UneHLTJsxHVJvrMe8848UFLFsNi8862WKpB8PKKO1Ezi5WB0qPnk-ZcknnOy52_Wj98_KVDP0Ywi_kmTOwGi3GT_U5EYm299BWQ/s320/IMG_3979.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Your heart remembers the wonder and joy of that new life that was just beginning. The hopes and dreams you had for your precious baby, as you thought about the whole lifetime they had ahead of them.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIwibQB-Ca6OUyvIeKT0eA15PFmna3hz8Va-ps-qc9h4PN0S8lypXOzwhKacjirXIDNgAo18UJsWduJSHWWou6c8JhswUqjvER7EmKaz2OLWwpLiFwyx3D9gVBvjC9TPIKRH80OxehIzcTUIs4ZGarX8uMg8lklQNtx8iBZ0MFCcgC3ccU5NEL3A/s5184/IMG_3834.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIwibQB-Ca6OUyvIeKT0eA15PFmna3hz8Va-ps-qc9h4PN0S8lypXOzwhKacjirXIDNgAo18UJsWduJSHWWou6c8JhswUqjvER7EmKaz2OLWwpLiFwyx3D9gVBvjC9TPIKRH80OxehIzcTUIs4ZGarX8uMg8lklQNtx8iBZ0MFCcgC3ccU5NEL3A/s320/IMG_3834.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>For those of us who have lost a child, birthdays are like salt in a forever-open wound. The twisting of the knife that will only be removed after we're reunited with our baby. </p><p><br /></p><p>It's so hard to picture my sweet two-year-old Drew as an eight-year-old boy. Would he be as tall as his sister? How many teeth would he have lost by now? What would be his favorite dinner, what he'd request for his birthday? What would be his favorite subject in school, what sport would he be playing? Would his blonde hair have darkened up like Molly's has, or have stayed light? </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNEL8aMyz1OsHjVJPUOQmm48kM9AhIthmi5kSAy0i2YW7eSxvw0K3VqGNn8TMGbXKPx8tfyCziJmYUObMHTu5wsaJsVi0fklE78ApVJZTGZb6o4uJE86ZlJG-m_M9CeXu7zj1RKqUmkx1yK2esk1rv7HZekczqNImh0BiwsC01silADe0UMGJj1g/s1574/275907440_393229242629605_1475445546298687324_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1574" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNEL8aMyz1OsHjVJPUOQmm48kM9AhIthmi5kSAy0i2YW7eSxvw0K3VqGNn8TMGbXKPx8tfyCziJmYUObMHTu5wsaJsVi0fklE78ApVJZTGZb6o4uJE86ZlJG-m_M9CeXu7zj1RKqUmkx1yK2esk1rv7HZekczqNImh0BiwsC01silADe0UMGJj1g/s320/275907440_393229242629605_1475445546298687324_n.jpg" width="220" /></a></div><p>Would he and Josh have a great father-son thing going, or would he be close to his Mama like many sons are? I already saw how much of a tease he was to Molly in his first two years, would he still be trying to drive her crazy every chance he got? Or maybe be a protective, caring little brother?</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKAAgmdfqHwWH7T6GG_cYw6GgkU1IvWacq0tKBqsE9SBQqW1Zb1wn7d-1K9akJpPMDMkB3437qe4M8ULsIFZmQByoRFjNn5MXWDMnIfaquYUeajFZsGDRSRCIWgzmSL8KZ63m8Uxz-Hw1reQMX84OSyDqvEcW6F5fH2b2cO_gQnc6QZU-cB_Gg4A/s960/fighting2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="716" data-original-width="960" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKAAgmdfqHwWH7T6GG_cYw6GgkU1IvWacq0tKBqsE9SBQqW1Zb1wn7d-1K9akJpPMDMkB3437qe4M8ULsIFZmQByoRFjNn5MXWDMnIfaquYUeajFZsGDRSRCIWgzmSL8KZ63m8Uxz-Hw1reQMX84OSyDqvEcW6F5fH2b2cO_gQnc6QZU-cB_Gg4A/s320/fighting2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpoqHd5Q6szAAGCcvvJIbHPsKBq9smjBExoPXCOgjbHMGM8tct9c5QRcEAzBXXCg2lljD4rKvQja1CxTt6NG6k7PqU90ygBOglmiSI3bDTbxsMYOIBs3ZaBuazisoHnppG2ux9JLqwCNbrObFeaKZkQhueMskT6F90ukfAzoRmLLcrkA2FYmQOjw/s960/12936550_10103179182045660_3241393350648561885_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpoqHd5Q6szAAGCcvvJIbHPsKBq9smjBExoPXCOgjbHMGM8tct9c5QRcEAzBXXCg2lljD4rKvQja1CxTt6NG6k7PqU90ygBOglmiSI3bDTbxsMYOIBs3ZaBuazisoHnppG2ux9JLqwCNbrObFeaKZkQhueMskT6F90ukfAzoRmLLcrkA2FYmQOjw/s320/12936550_10103179182045660_3241393350648561885_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>I can only think about what Molly was like at 8 to remember what that age was like. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS9hr1BFv_Ty0RuwOpXgaBV_hS7U3uUK2kmqxQdKm94A5K_u3zA6hsRBSF74TX155jZNuKvfRCqggBCcRfmsv6jLPBYdaOVIOKwpkVi9pc5VbrEmJu8dBx-IJoF7GQQNqJ-b3WprPVqOOOQCn7miKH--3zwGfjQ9z4vaM-9ZwaxxnGdlnL4NlJ8A/s2016/275918865_3061302110748141_8200318888470242038_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS9hr1BFv_Ty0RuwOpXgaBV_hS7U3uUK2kmqxQdKm94A5K_u3zA6hsRBSF74TX155jZNuKvfRCqggBCcRfmsv6jLPBYdaOVIOKwpkVi9pc5VbrEmJu8dBx-IJoF7GQQNqJ-b3WprPVqOOOQCn7miKH--3zwGfjQ9z4vaM-9ZwaxxnGdlnL4NlJ8A/s320/275918865_3061302110748141_8200318888470242038_n.jpg" width="178" /></a></div>It's amazing that we were already living in Illinois, soon to be moving to Colorado, when Molly turned eight. It was the birthday we took her to the American Girl doll store in Downtown Chicago, where she had earned half the cost and we covered the rest of her very own *real* American Girl doll.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghcViYtcy5F9Lr7G3Bnv8IxsmX88GObFMQp4_ewlnc_GREg0HL0QNff7tHwuBQh-dnb__6pWl1t3M9mypsfUbWKJgKTYpnnQ8ZlKrBEd2gfI6yQ8fDIWrz-EVLgFZ9HWzf1QOGwSJctVdlU_4tR-qSeg1ZqnmxS5P_fiRwXCr05O_aZYlinAjtsQ/s1600/Molly%20American%20Girl%20Doll.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghcViYtcy5F9Lr7G3Bnv8IxsmX88GObFMQp4_ewlnc_GREg0HL0QNff7tHwuBQh-dnb__6pWl1t3M9mypsfUbWKJgKTYpnnQ8ZlKrBEd2gfI6yQ8fDIWrz-EVLgFZ9HWzf1QOGwSJctVdlU_4tR-qSeg1ZqnmxS5P_fiRwXCr05O_aZYlinAjtsQ/s320/Molly%20American%20Girl%20Doll.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><p>What would Drew have wanted for his birthday? Probably not an American Girl doll. Would he still be into John Deere? </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs61XuYTaUq_7XmlDHUM9iNGkmo6HXUPOmmUJYLTKSxIULWNDbxxuluwNVE8axyDeL4iJEDATpIHLpsqXeVZtdz6MIvCBK9jXrTZDMC0zZoEr1QybNlRl0XUJcW_wZ8e7frvO9MVivyF7sEAlTFRipb5oIaY89cvgu16j8H_6-ZRyyytUtUuh3QA/s960/johndeere.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs61XuYTaUq_7XmlDHUM9iNGkmo6HXUPOmmUJYLTKSxIULWNDbxxuluwNVE8axyDeL4iJEDATpIHLpsqXeVZtdz6MIvCBK9jXrTZDMC0zZoEr1QybNlRl0XUJcW_wZ8e7frvO9MVivyF7sEAlTFRipb5oIaY89cvgu16j8H_6-ZRyyytUtUuh3QA/s320/johndeere.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Maybe he'd have moved on by now and be an expert at Fortnight or Minecraft like many other boys at age 8. </p><p><br /></p><p>I hate that I'll never know. I sit here crying because I can only guess at the answers to all of these questions... </p><p><br /></p><p>I continue to spend time each week writing, working through 2016. As I go along, I am reminded just how much I enjoyed being Drew's mom. How much joy he brought to me nearly every day. Watching him endure so much, yet maintaining such a positive, warm attitude will always leave me in awe and full of pride.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4wTRihuaedfEQgjPupcpIuWucddIx4Ldrqr4IaVCK58WsOzuU721lUWkMkdGjGOI58VDmP6bKHZMbJvzj_4r73jGJK-bVpKDbIwuifetBQRNIApyiUdJIZqe05VmO_TzAp9b246d5-uUOsH7MXR1CTI9C8hdeC4eSh4l6GyZwdhj-Qtpnvbajg/s800/liveinthemoment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="774" data-original-width="800" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4wTRihuaedfEQgjPupcpIuWucddIx4Ldrqr4IaVCK58WsOzuU721lUWkMkdGjGOI58VDmP6bKHZMbJvzj_4r73jGJK-bVpKDbIwuifetBQRNIApyiUdJIZqe05VmO_TzAp9b246d5-uUOsH7MXR1CTI9C8hdeC4eSh4l6GyZwdhj-Qtpnvbajg/s320/liveinthemoment.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0u3eFVo7zQaf9X7eiaNnzutIUjpe8B7OZ7Vgn_uW2l2frNRV3iuW8cpic_0Uwa4qu9VroR8he4HqDPC0fSyHKhpKD3AsdpgN6tQeHOf_u8xmT3iara3AwwU1_VGwqBAM6_SQTeNnpvtsSugVTSiYN5zN5IZmsVxVVpWvPrwU33uqPsykvLQw4vw/s960/26856748_10105034913679590_638201764_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="540" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0u3eFVo7zQaf9X7eiaNnzutIUjpe8B7OZ7Vgn_uW2l2frNRV3iuW8cpic_0Uwa4qu9VroR8he4HqDPC0fSyHKhpKD3AsdpgN6tQeHOf_u8xmT3iara3AwwU1_VGwqBAM6_SQTeNnpvtsSugVTSiYN5zN5IZmsVxVVpWvPrwU33uqPsykvLQw4vw/s320/26856748_10105034913679590_638201764_n.jpg" width="180" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv0M7UJLb3rMIPXV-2zAsSssUGThQcq8UM3YlTMfJcUkYoFVjjqcnhrCTN5tqObmdsziCB3rNeNsZn5chKttZlUQT39ACE_Szu7Cduw9QPOc_40xCehJQd694-XPn72AR1VTcxJ4awOuznGCzRivJH4kpXLnjCQPoxeYS-zqifQsZ9fdE5ZNB7mQ/s960/pullingaroundthehalls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv0M7UJLb3rMIPXV-2zAsSssUGThQcq8UM3YlTMfJcUkYoFVjjqcnhrCTN5tqObmdsziCB3rNeNsZn5chKttZlUQT39ACE_Szu7Cduw9QPOc_40xCehJQd694-XPn72AR1VTcxJ4awOuznGCzRivJH4kpXLnjCQPoxeYS-zqifQsZ9fdE5ZNB7mQ/s320/pullingaroundthehalls.jpg" width="176" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi83PSlAsUcsdn7NzAGb7FHYPWyZDAGXXOSaAmHCqPYO-f4RCewume0OrM9w0hDP8QGlBPwuMd3Ro-lfWdGxIv95f5l1vSsOBK2eRLcJR1oO4nbgxD4h2jG5DLDz6gjNlfnYlkjv5hjfH1cPGkznpEMTpODrMCYFQ5AxLqBdZOX0tvVIRpZcwulbg/s960/playrooms.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi83PSlAsUcsdn7NzAGb7FHYPWyZDAGXXOSaAmHCqPYO-f4RCewume0OrM9w0hDP8QGlBPwuMd3Ro-lfWdGxIv95f5l1vSsOBK2eRLcJR1oO4nbgxD4h2jG5DLDz6gjNlfnYlkjv5hjfH1cPGkznpEMTpODrMCYFQ5AxLqBdZOX0tvVIRpZcwulbg/s320/playrooms.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Reading through stories in my journal, looking through photos, I remember what it was like to be Drew's mom. How it felt to have a boy who liked to make noise and messes. Who was always on the go and full of energy, but also the only one of my kids to enjoy and seek out a good snuggle. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgau3OjhCcViiunHvh3R92CFYyvJvu4j9FZqq4b87NbjUtq7YHzTItRroaynbE-jNmxZg4Jju1bHEM07e4vZOEYI8WySLq4b1oq48uXoOT58eGHLx0RQ-gjfrRW7PP0UXpjfyV1sLNqar57OSf6LINJ8o_PyjZqwU-9DxTp8BWN7oSMZBa3HgtxTQ/s720/19141440_10104371223430170_1168125271_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="641" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgau3OjhCcViiunHvh3R92CFYyvJvu4j9FZqq4b87NbjUtq7YHzTItRroaynbE-jNmxZg4Jju1bHEM07e4vZOEYI8WySLq4b1oq48uXoOT58eGHLx0RQ-gjfrRW7PP0UXpjfyV1sLNqar57OSf6LINJ8o_PyjZqwU-9DxTp8BWN7oSMZBa3HgtxTQ/s320/19141440_10104371223430170_1168125271_n.jpg" width="285" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi08STjQfoniHR-SGq1ZSsUDYxxFYmpT9eHdIySRpM9KjkecQoe3sUBW1OQIVeTv5DmYhBXQlfJH7gn2cmFDbyRv45HyoQF9FGR8djOrh-wRduXw1UcmViuoC4RP3I8bJOsVtE-rU_N3xTQsS8Sjikn8CmLHDONFPdLPxgDiVEkxmGID83I8c9_lA/s720/love1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="540" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi08STjQfoniHR-SGq1ZSsUDYxxFYmpT9eHdIySRpM9KjkecQoe3sUBW1OQIVeTv5DmYhBXQlfJH7gn2cmFDbyRv45HyoQF9FGR8djOrh-wRduXw1UcmViuoC4RP3I8bJOsVtE-rU_N3xTQsS8Sjikn8CmLHDONFPdLPxgDiVEkxmGID83I8c9_lA/s320/love1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>On his birthday this year I'm grieving him to be sure, and what could have been. But I'm also grieving my identity as Drew's Mom. People don't know me as that anymore, and they used to. </p><p>I miss that.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPGGd_-POoOqhDhHuFvHCv2sHjALFyYV2uJc-nL0lWmKYSfBzE_rhLJ-oSzSvVaSgKS4X9epjZzZp-mUb2QbhZS79JL6zCkjsrAPh_XAFWANyGA0EK6X7ZDsVvdrcJlFhVLM9PAG5wUSqJIgdtEw8GYw03p2FoKV_y7Hix-PQXZXZhOzTWtd51Wg/s960/hotblankets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPGGd_-POoOqhDhHuFvHCv2sHjALFyYV2uJc-nL0lWmKYSfBzE_rhLJ-oSzSvVaSgKS4X9epjZzZp-mUb2QbhZS79JL6zCkjsrAPh_XAFWANyGA0EK6X7ZDsVvdrcJlFhVLM9PAG5wUSqJIgdtEw8GYw03p2FoKV_y7Hix-PQXZXZhOzTWtd51Wg/s320/hotblankets.jpg" width="176" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_TvslMacEqiPunDP-m_HP1DzjQQmGkKA1KRf0mbnW1shEfAlx06xfiNVe1vCmujaEIgVu1F3_PfBfrL1YM9S7SK470u50FVCdIRPxrn0Z34-Hv3HdMMdt4sGSJUVN_dLn-IlwsHMrvqmfaIiuwmiHwRgMhbFHZU4ROq1sf3VXGaH82yQTeT4bPw/s320/4-23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="176" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_TvslMacEqiPunDP-m_HP1DzjQQmGkKA1KRf0mbnW1shEfAlx06xfiNVe1vCmujaEIgVu1F3_PfBfrL1YM9S7SK470u50FVCdIRPxrn0Z34-Hv3HdMMdt4sGSJUVN_dLn-IlwsHMrvqmfaIiuwmiHwRgMhbFHZU4ROq1sf3VXGaH82yQTeT4bPw/s1600/4-23.jpg" width="176" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir9GLEEW3Q0Z5xHMn7bxYXOqheA2j2c_cvOvu6vEZPaTH5L66f0as6nHo0OPueLcPux0N5YqBDNFC4n92p-QRmfLMoiRzOKsqEO4WEi_0mwZEQk7AEuiJcv6gtmqdhgx2tXaXqZjXmVKX8iCGFD9iZEMZnwPz5xRUUIOOuW5-vw0R_uN7lb0ipCg/s800/momsnuggles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir9GLEEW3Q0Z5xHMn7bxYXOqheA2j2c_cvOvu6vEZPaTH5L66f0as6nHo0OPueLcPux0N5YqBDNFC4n92p-QRmfLMoiRzOKsqEO4WEi_0mwZEQk7AEuiJcv6gtmqdhgx2tXaXqZjXmVKX8iCGFD9iZEMZnwPz5xRUUIOOuW5-vw0R_uN7lb0ipCg/s320/momsnuggles.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>We are freshly home from a big Spring Break trip. I shared photos this week, and it was every bit as wonderful as the images appear. We had the best time together, really enjoyed each other. Our family of three was in our groove together and had genuine joy experiencing new things. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-36OIiwnB8N9TiX-qPj4aTcas7lDx98yui8opzXvXQ3AVb-ZEWByyc2fJ-oM1Idpk1F-krTpHuVaEi3MQezwaC-zucDsAnWUVRWCnHpxgS7EytmCqJmZr7GwJWPNFiElg7YWWwhn8IXtex4Uo9pBrVVoUynUnDxT2PfSOO7HqOO-DuS09EPG74Q/s2016/276080729_381003840308837_2570862590215946823_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-36OIiwnB8N9TiX-qPj4aTcas7lDx98yui8opzXvXQ3AVb-ZEWByyc2fJ-oM1Idpk1F-krTpHuVaEi3MQezwaC-zucDsAnWUVRWCnHpxgS7EytmCqJmZr7GwJWPNFiElg7YWWwhn8IXtex4Uo9pBrVVoUynUnDxT2PfSOO7HqOO-DuS09EPG74Q/s320/276080729_381003840308837_2570862590215946823_n.jpg" width="320" /></a> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKuRSpN1raZ_HFd9bzjVdOMvN4uBM47m0M-GTJWWUgjAIviWmWUwKbzemRPcbWiL2jdkOGj_vprVkZB9apEzfaOl6jHESHreHL-VSqf5nhYw4HF2gnSmyxufrX_XnvDKyUgLQfzHwnVb94I7Xe9fgSFzcaKiVJok0SkQeIGO8ZPorfH8q0oPw8Jg/s1824/276161588_296551579303919_8559211523480912847_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="1368" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKuRSpN1raZ_HFd9bzjVdOMvN4uBM47m0M-GTJWWUgjAIviWmWUwKbzemRPcbWiL2jdkOGj_vprVkZB9apEzfaOl6jHESHreHL-VSqf5nhYw4HF2gnSmyxufrX_XnvDKyUgLQfzHwnVb94I7Xe9fgSFzcaKiVJok0SkQeIGO8ZPorfH8q0oPw8Jg/s320/276161588_296551579303919_8559211523480912847_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div></div><p></p><p>But as I've wrote before, joy and sadness go hand in hand. Both are present, and both are very real. It took me a while to recognize, to believe that. I can be truly happy, and also sad at the same time. </p><p>Our trip was like that.</p><p>While our family of three had a wonderful time, my heart never forgets that we would have been a family of four. And there were glaring reminders of that all around. </p><p>The smiling family photos that Drew's face is not in. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHP78evatdx8LdrrmG6xC9g5fdovHtcnkV-lxBcPeMwCE8cLt7y2-WgB5iF5WXpURm1d4yl8mILRw_XwrPdNTwh3mcHJqGguZpmlq4jmJrqB3SMI7VafkksAkPfi7suNOOE9reO1-j5EdfYEuYIZV_BGCFRfMZPDeZTvWA_OIhapaM7DsHaMOEqA/s1824/276022541_542427170536362_8596264476445890644_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="1368" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHP78evatdx8LdrrmG6xC9g5fdovHtcnkV-lxBcPeMwCE8cLt7y2-WgB5iF5WXpURm1d4yl8mILRw_XwrPdNTwh3mcHJqGguZpmlq4jmJrqB3SMI7VafkksAkPfi7suNOOE9reO1-j5EdfYEuYIZV_BGCFRfMZPDeZTvWA_OIhapaM7DsHaMOEqA/s320/276022541_542427170536362_8596264476445890644_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p>The empty seat at the dinner table<i> always</i> makes me wince. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwbp-Gv4KkwJie0QdOI-AFHkg2okjZ29CZ_JV8vJprCi1MILPLgPTzOu2edFNldhb_-zH2Cjfo0qhkmhwMrui77cSsUyDUScsk9a-ZDz9_Jlu02I5jIMXurii3xN7J71q8qVZrppV7ahuT6QaWLmHWQgryM1gcQ2-RcMn1_9XToa93C6XnaQLkkw/s2016/276247750_497994775361135_4036207880080444760_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwbp-Gv4KkwJie0QdOI-AFHkg2okjZ29CZ_JV8vJprCi1MILPLgPTzOu2edFNldhb_-zH2Cjfo0qhkmhwMrui77cSsUyDUScsk9a-ZDz9_Jlu02I5jIMXurii3xN7J71q8qVZrppV7ahuT6QaWLmHWQgryM1gcQ2-RcMn1_9XToa93C6XnaQLkkw/s320/276247750_497994775361135_4036207880080444760_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><p>At the water works area, when I watched Molly stand behind the brother and sister gearing up to race down the side-by-side slides. And then she stepped up to take her turn, and went down alone.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCE5Q2J2tY7NDQJpyY9j-2jNxgHm9IO-YcVHca9Fw4mE9X0H2CIHyMQVYw2CiM29d8vsr0eTN6fd0WWm6HjfMgZhjiZiVSHQQc_OgyMmF7ys2fwoj4fMFjFIARHHxAOxI36G5rVJcUl_9i7-GC0vroXbuXdzNdBS0r9WADX2j8ka1ZxklMEXCNiw/s2016/277029042_365165205492024_7096940289194937221_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCE5Q2J2tY7NDQJpyY9j-2jNxgHm9IO-YcVHca9Fw4mE9X0H2CIHyMQVYw2CiM29d8vsr0eTN6fd0WWm6HjfMgZhjiZiVSHQQc_OgyMmF7ys2fwoj4fMFjFIARHHxAOxI36G5rVJcUl_9i7-GC0vroXbuXdzNdBS0r9WADX2j8ka1ZxklMEXCNiw/s320/277029042_365165205492024_7096940289194937221_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><p>The light small talk with strangers in the elevator, or in line for pizza, that seems to always include the inevitable question "Is she your only one?" </p><p>It's hard. It's a challenge to handle all these reminders of who's <i>not </i>there with us. Yet, we are getting better and better at dealing with it. At expecting and accepting those little blows around every corner, and still having a great time. It takes practice and intentionality to focus on the present, on the good, in those moments--to choose joy. But it's possible. God helps us through.</p><p>And so does Drew. He did a great job of letting us know he wasn't so far away after all as we made our way through the weeklong cruise. Together and separately, there were little coincidences, subtle and not-so-subtle nudges, that the brother and son we all wished was with us, actually was. Like a rainbow that appeared over the ocean, as we sat on our balcony talking about how Drew would have faired snorkeling that day.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZmBeauL82OwX23_Wvel5uaID6lRNhwk2FS3v3BKW3WHoHxbx4p6HiXsSNomTCvfiQPYI5G3yEM6O-HNmscBkVR4f093yiCzH6J3VftiEdaoMEEncfDw55Nle6BnHOfzTmXq0fhiFuL_BhOSfgPWBXj8E7FKJXddvPi0kClWUGp6MsQ-ycITTdA/s2048/277028172_2040001609501029_5686412805561040451_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZmBeauL82OwX23_Wvel5uaID6lRNhwk2FS3v3BKW3WHoHxbx4p6HiXsSNomTCvfiQPYI5G3yEM6O-HNmscBkVR4f093yiCzH6J3VftiEdaoMEEncfDw55Nle6BnHOfzTmXq0fhiFuL_BhOSfgPWBXj8E7FKJXddvPi0kClWUGp6MsQ-ycITTdA/s320/277028172_2040001609501029_5686412805561040451_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p>I know the right answers here. I've already come the correct conclusions about Drew's birthday. He really wasn't ever going to live to be eight years old, or any other years older than two. God's plan for Drew's life played out exactly like it was supposed to. He wasn't, and neither were we, "robbed" of those milestones, the life moments. They never were ours to begin with, we just thought they would be.</p><p>We are thankful for the time God did give us as a family of four, as parents of a daughter and a son. I'm grateful for all the moments we did share together, the milestones Drew did reach in his short life.</p><p>I am still Drew's mom, and always will be. He is a part of me forever, and I bring him with me wherever I go. Nothing can change that. </p><p>Molly will become the person she is destined to be. Not in spite of the loss of her sibling, her brother, but because of it.</p><p>Drew is with us on every vacation, every new adventure. I just know it!</p><p>God will restore all that was taken from us, the <i>life</i> that was lost. Someday, somehow, we will be made whole again. What that looks like and how it will feel we actually could spend time contemplating, because it really will happen! </p><p>Lord, bring on the day.</p><p><br /></p><p>But before that glorious day, and especially on my Drew's birthday, I can be sad too. Miss not just him, but his place in our family. I can miss who I was when he was here, and the son that I don't get to watch grow up.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMxWpW7ia4e9MweDD6LPgVtT9OzvhqEF0xHFAom8KtXnHQhk3VJrc8POCER3ZLtD58pue2l6VbHGtLYoEWyay_uMuootx4xpTXAXlpSkaOgseU7b2mMzSAESxijWsVt4rG-ORV-qDgA8wivDDOHQ1us4-uOJM6txh3WyHDUVEGS7fN-G252cC9Ug/s960/painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMxWpW7ia4e9MweDD6LPgVtT9OzvhqEF0xHFAom8KtXnHQhk3VJrc8POCER3ZLtD58pue2l6VbHGtLYoEWyay_uMuootx4xpTXAXlpSkaOgseU7b2mMzSAESxijWsVt4rG-ORV-qDgA8wivDDOHQ1us4-uOJM6txh3WyHDUVEGS7fN-G252cC9Ug/s320/painting.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>April 1st, 2014, will always be a special day--the day we were given the gift of Drew James Becker. We couldn't have known we'd only get to keep him for less than three years. And I guess I'm glad we didn't know. I'm grateful we did have those special moments of hope and joy as we looked upon his face eight years ago. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzDWKBZ6OK2cd06rSZa5tH1MwKCNBBnTwvENSKyvyuz9adITNL-15ABVLrtQbWyf1TOXxWjtGwUmRJsdSvQjv9qHa9aRPNYfPQYrZiQhoqmY3QjF83I4cd0dHXJ2J2xD4I_DAA2O9UefmgDOPoWIYVTBwzX_KLqXFd1tzIg-rzGZ6MgJRP7_vJZQ/s5184/IMG_4037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzDWKBZ6OK2cd06rSZa5tH1MwKCNBBnTwvENSKyvyuz9adITNL-15ABVLrtQbWyf1TOXxWjtGwUmRJsdSvQjv9qHa9aRPNYfPQYrZiQhoqmY3QjF83I4cd0dHXJ2J2xD4I_DAA2O9UefmgDOPoWIYVTBwzX_KLqXFd1tzIg-rzGZ6MgJRP7_vJZQ/s320/IMG_4037.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Happy Birthday my sweet baby boy. I wish with all my heart you were still here with us and blowing out eight candles tomorrow night. Not a day goes by that you aren't thought about or talked about, and I hope that's always true. We love you and miss you so much 💕</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg617MHdvCA1fuOVrLH0wD4RCtkP11P6g7ssjFEd3G6t4kfQGha-hykauOt-U4WCr0oDTmNRt0_RIdGfp6UKWrqnhTbSG4brE7OjsJV27_HnDM8wRumYipfanQHw_m7-9djKCx574Cj6X3PeOViHPQIIdvaUd48cg__GGYmbKanjs6VpdRF3HJX2g/s503/12592603_10103179182160430_8964377845582655419_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="503" data-original-width="401" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg617MHdvCA1fuOVrLH0wD4RCtkP11P6g7ssjFEd3G6t4kfQGha-hykauOt-U4WCr0oDTmNRt0_RIdGfp6UKWrqnhTbSG4brE7OjsJV27_HnDM8wRumYipfanQHw_m7-9djKCx574Cj6X3PeOViHPQIIdvaUd48cg__GGYmbKanjs6VpdRF3HJX2g/s320/12592603_10103179182160430_8964377845582655419_n.jpg" width="255" /></a></div>Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-88413372552231512452022-01-19T15:50:00.000-06:002022-01-19T15:50:46.389-06:00Five Years Out.<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj39UHuLjowk8xf0Sbp0Hgepi5JfIucPDWK4sH6HIg4DUZ71LxvDc_rE2lH1cfR_YgpLL2C8qWR3kA3s7LZV0tqIo-IobJl8qqoaw1LKHtb78EPTKAOxzenPUsOt39CtsO2-v85-mf0RZDivTR803bXJwkRclM-Vie6-qK0wviuNx1zsflvtXWFig=s893" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="893" data-original-width="729" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj39UHuLjowk8xf0Sbp0Hgepi5JfIucPDWK4sH6HIg4DUZ71LxvDc_rE2lH1cfR_YgpLL2C8qWR3kA3s7LZV0tqIo-IobJl8qqoaw1LKHtb78EPTKAOxzenPUsOt39CtsO2-v85-mf0RZDivTR803bXJwkRclM-Vie6-qK0wviuNx1zsflvtXWFig=s320" width="261" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>Five years. What can I say five years out that hasn't already been said? Maybe nothing, I know I've already said a lot. </p><p>There may be nothing new, but maybe that's the story. Nothing is new, but all the same things are still true. </p><p><br /></p><p></p><p>Since August I've been returning to 2016 and our journey with Drew through his cancer treatments as I work on the book. I've been putting the pieces of the story together from my personal journal, CaringBridge posts, and photo timelines. I've reached out to people who were a part of our story, when their part came up, to try and gather more details. </p><p>And as I go along, and read the all the emotion in the entries, posts, feedback, and in the faces in photos from that time--the same things are still true. </p><p>This was so incredibly sad. It was difficult to watch, to look at, to be a part of. </p><p>Drew suffered so much for anyone, let alone a two-year-old little boy. The bowel obstruction, the infections, the blown IVs filling his arm full of fluid, the mouth and bum sores, the hair and finger/toenail losses, the baths every 4 hours for 4 days--not to mention the constant companion of nausea and vomiting throughout his journey. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhUodbdRKhhd-es1DLoUVWcU5PlO57_421HQoSsHDDDhPQCZX6hWG5KJFjq_XhwrB7TefnDtiO-Ebh7im92HF2wMZml4PR4mP3maxm8ASGY4R5gcm1WNEik9pYn8uXmH-mlIwqkfHUjpfJ5cdESpCJe0iyCGeASHNP2816DwbMJqFrxj5mtdveFUA=s1033" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1033" data-original-width="672" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhUodbdRKhhd-es1DLoUVWcU5PlO57_421HQoSsHDDDhPQCZX6hWG5KJFjq_XhwrB7TefnDtiO-Ebh7im92HF2wMZml4PR4mP3maxm8ASGY4R5gcm1WNEik9pYn8uXmH-mlIwqkfHUjpfJ5cdESpCJe0iyCGeASHNP2816DwbMJqFrxj5mtdveFUA=s320" width="208" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjj5h9_Mmf2F8VNgnSbQ9wZzLIxkj1dc8TZJ2TGFI1PaQbDtNmceCj2TG7FF4TMk9UFiuMLwjJy7DpCBuKO_7pvdN62SmoBTJx91CmebI5Qc_UNkR2JPnq1B3t7TDOkmecr4P1DCLlCk66fPRMVbNumLgyIqn8dETgUjN58MafUwsUNyBwrEVpF6g=s720" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjj5h9_Mmf2F8VNgnSbQ9wZzLIxkj1dc8TZJ2TGFI1PaQbDtNmceCj2TG7FF4TMk9UFiuMLwjJy7DpCBuKO_7pvdN62SmoBTJx91CmebI5Qc_UNkR2JPnq1B3t7TDOkmecr4P1DCLlCk66fPRMVbNumLgyIqn8dETgUjN58MafUwsUNyBwrEVpF6g=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEint3g0GDpaRUzHZXCAwuq3NnHqvxASo7CPsmwTlda6aYQDFxtS8MoA4pOrwt0ixwBgtqQ4pC0L9l5-PlmSf_Tpqe64SsgoiRqBbp-Kk5sPxy7Iw6fTnNY0jiVAbt6igaaMV2YumWtTB68RHTyxXMjuotqblAPNmxbpXjx2vOhDk-Xl7NEzRbsVzw=s960" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEint3g0GDpaRUzHZXCAwuq3NnHqvxASo7CPsmwTlda6aYQDFxtS8MoA4pOrwt0ixwBgtqQ4pC0L9l5-PlmSf_Tpqe64SsgoiRqBbp-Kk5sPxy7Iw6fTnNY0jiVAbt6igaaMV2YumWtTB68RHTyxXMjuotqblAPNmxbpXjx2vOhDk-Xl7NEzRbsVzw=s320" width="176" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg14iYM132NJ4Ssj1vr1zkZEJlC23rvvGxrV5_xjElguhCkoHRWHBBL9D1IgVPJEd2PYWZzKm8bEcAv-JiCXWy1dJIFkZLgQl_UwT3yuQNNkh09tLDW01KbCAxwBrowpaio8tVa5H_tWVyAes8TUIM9sLX8t61nn54pjMVKdlnBQ6-BiOwXNYXOvA=s960" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg14iYM132NJ4Ssj1vr1zkZEJlC23rvvGxrV5_xjElguhCkoHRWHBBL9D1IgVPJEd2PYWZzKm8bEcAv-JiCXWy1dJIFkZLgQl_UwT3yuQNNkh09tLDW01KbCAxwBrowpaio8tVa5H_tWVyAes8TUIM9sLX8t61nn54pjMVKdlnBQ6-BiOwXNYXOvA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjw-QX14AM3txgqQPjZ7nx7Syop4LHuE6PIRuPUQpnUYzdu7qGUTvwlC6N-4DaahmeJRHYdwqNJoRN99hv2MtT4Yimp0GE18xooqgO62yXUo_tUEq8PB0U31QpCB656RMUGMqElf9H7DzD1WbRTsnb_CMB9LMb4Qcvzuy9-r8b2jzH1og-5p_DAoA=s960" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjw-QX14AM3txgqQPjZ7nx7Syop4LHuE6PIRuPUQpnUYzdu7qGUTvwlC6N-4DaahmeJRHYdwqNJoRN99hv2MtT4Yimp0GE18xooqgO62yXUo_tUEq8PB0U31QpCB656RMUGMqElf9H7DzD1WbRTsnb_CMB9LMb4Qcvzuy9-r8b2jzH1og-5p_DAoA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>As I'm writing in detail about his physical treatment, I'm so broken for how much he endured. I hurt thinking about how often he hurt. </p><p>And in those moments, as I pause my writing to cry, I remind myself that he's done with all this. Even though I hurt for him now, he doesn't hurt anymore. </p><p>In fact, for a while I have felt in my heart that from his perspective now--he's okay with all he had to endure. Unlike me, who is tempted to think those long days and weeks were all for nothing since the treatments didn't work to cure his body--Drew knows that wasn't the point. </p><p>He would do each of those difficult days again for the good that came from them. In our lives, and in other's lives. I just know that in my heart.</p><p>But from my perspective as his mother, five years later, I'm thankful he's done. That January 19, 2017 was his last hard day. The last day he had to wake up with the suffocating weight of cancer on his chest. I'm relieved that there was an end to the treatment and complications. That for the last five years, my boy has been free. </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhQN_Y64FkJpkNEi9gBKHG5zAYMjHbCnLC9KNQDaO0qOBf2BafZpI63IXecv4smva2cbIfez46Scc1se12ecFgdqK7fzal9ZohHWDOgJXAx_0gWThPN2zuzcS3anwmEPollBK57POORsQEEznIwavThbCOYwP2TypxeF-2oxB_auGc2i6I--4t_RA=s720" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="540" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhQN_Y64FkJpkNEi9gBKHG5zAYMjHbCnLC9KNQDaO0qOBf2BafZpI63IXecv4smva2cbIfez46Scc1se12ecFgdqK7fzal9ZohHWDOgJXAx_0gWThPN2zuzcS3anwmEPollBK57POORsQEEznIwavThbCOYwP2TypxeF-2oxB_auGc2i6I--4t_RA=s320" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgMxTORXV13CK3WKSvEdZQ-MRoUzAHkeOf4yJyVHc2oZJMDFonUjnzJ3vB6hYyd81JW17dYzfPzhHyPSmiLJO92hBtDS3SBuLjJkBGT7NY6-gNi-686JCpavggSHfnqFH2X0k_j4D80cY44oGlEbOJK67aiyDFchsRZ9lQD6r8fLXwqaK9rX1FbNQ=s960" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgMxTORXV13CK3WKSvEdZQ-MRoUzAHkeOf4yJyVHc2oZJMDFonUjnzJ3vB6hYyd81JW17dYzfPzhHyPSmiLJO92hBtDS3SBuLjJkBGT7NY6-gNi-686JCpavggSHfnqFH2X0k_j4D80cY44oGlEbOJK67aiyDFchsRZ9lQD6r8fLXwqaK9rX1FbNQ=s320" width="240" /></a></p><p><br /></p><p>I am thankful for my afternoons I spend with my Drew while I write. Sometimes opening myself up is hard because at some point I have to close the door again. Return to the real world. It's so hard to go back to a life without him. But I'm far enough away--five years--that I'd rather have the time with him, even if it's hard to put him away again, than not have the time at all.</p><p>As one of the grief books I have read says, when your loved one dies, your relationship with them does not end. The physical relationship, yes, but if you are open to it, if you are intentional about keeping them in your life just in new ways, your relationship with them will never end. </p><p>That's how I feel about Drew now. Our physical relationship has ended, but every day he is a part of my life. Whether it's actually talking about him in our house, working on Warrior Wagons work which we do in his memory, or when I'm writing his story. Even on days we don't do any of those things, he's a part of who we are today--in our attitude and character.</p><p>Even still, I look forward to the day with all my heart that I get to have that direct relationship with him again. When I can pick him up and hold him in my arms. Hear his voice and feel his touch. We are five years closer to that day.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEihaL7yj52b9Wxh4w1G0E0n6JKfiFDGw6eBOUtIO2kp3YuUz31M54kUQfB5ItqtZtg7o6HfdPgapuQnwSCmUD8zr9zHUrwS5Oi-iyzmztYVs2WT7rZ3WAHnDwIq9aVhTAuAlf_yLgAu3jT9jEHCaNzhzN0wU4zE3TQlubWmiE0PFkqLdbuBqwbx-w=s945" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="945" data-original-width="585" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEihaL7yj52b9Wxh4w1G0E0n6JKfiFDGw6eBOUtIO2kp3YuUz31M54kUQfB5ItqtZtg7o6HfdPgapuQnwSCmUD8zr9zHUrwS5Oi-iyzmztYVs2WT7rZ3WAHnDwIq9aVhTAuAlf_yLgAu3jT9jEHCaNzhzN0wU4zE3TQlubWmiE0PFkqLdbuBqwbx-w=s320" width="198" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>It's not just Drew I've been spending time with while I write this year, but myself of five years ago. The me that tried so hard to keep it together. To care for Drew, be there for Molly, support Josh, and keep the faith and trust in God no matter what.</p><p>The tear-stained journal pages and heartfelt prayers reveal how deep and all-encompassing the daily struggle was. I am reliving days and weeks at a time, picking up the story where I left off the last time, and it's almost unbelievable what we went through. I must have been numb to it at the time. In some sort of state of denial so we could still function. </p><p>But looking back, five years later, I can see how all of it led to so much growth and maturity in my faith. How each difficult week that Drew went through, and subsequently I did too, taught me what it really means to be a believer. Not just when times are good, not just when we get the answer to our prayer we were hoping for. But believing anyway. Trusting that even though we don't understand, and it doesn't seem fair, that it will makes sense someday. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgVhJiqFSrkjWxea1h6InDXh7dbJCSj4Fjzb8DOQeuP-CQjYUH5npF2rbL2PurwTrMQcGSKeXVQor0iP7aCVpp8nC21XZxP6pXiuqb9F3NWpZH-ZyPYJvijSXOFhkTyFHR0ppja9N41pbZS95x48EO_gCroyFLNRtd9RN7A1jtF_-ZdGr9QjVkVA=s960" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgVhJiqFSrkjWxea1h6InDXh7dbJCSj4Fjzb8DOQeuP-CQjYUH5npF2rbL2PurwTrMQcGSKeXVQor0iP7aCVpp8nC21XZxP6pXiuqb9F3NWpZH-ZyPYJvijSXOFhkTyFHR0ppja9N41pbZS95x48EO_gCroyFLNRtd9RN7A1jtF_-ZdGr9QjVkVA=s320" width="240" /></a></div><p>There are so many fears, hopes, and prayers that I recorded. Knowing how the story ends, it's easy to think that all was lost. But actually, I'm seeing almost every time I write how perfectly each prayer was answered. So many of the fears never actually materialized. God was with us, as he promised, every single day. In the good days and the awful ones. </p><p>It is clear that me, all by myself, was in way over my head. That there's no way a person could handle all that we did alone. God's power and strength is obvious, shining through the earthen jars that we are. And I'm convinced that's the point. The story I'm really telling through Drew's journey.</p><p>Today on Drew's Glory Day, I have a feeling that the me of five years ago would be satisfied. Satisfied that her struggles, the suffering of her son, all of it--wasn't in vain, ironically, since the treatments I'm writing about seemed to be. </p><p>A friend once told me that God doesn't waste hurt. He uses each one. As I sift through my hurts of 2016 and see the comforting, bright light of Jesus amongst it, I am even more convinced of the truth in that thought. </p><p><br /></p><p>On that last day we had with Drew, not many words were said. He had stopped talking the night before, and there just weren't a lot of words to speak while Josh and I watched our son's life come to an end.</p><p> But the promises we made to him, have been kept. Cancer did not win five years ago, and we haven't spent a single day acting like it did. We haven't let this take Molly's childhood from us too. We have done our best to do what Drew taught us and live each day to the fullest, not taking any for granted. </p><p>And we remember our Drew, bring him with us, everywhere we go. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFrTIFZ44mxofZKvmaAvpvzLlBNFGnCwu58NkVPRiqAQ3m_gcXsiobj-0A0Dr27Sr-6NMPbns5RW6GHSAtN4TzOE79mjx2uNqb7XM-uDXTi_spICaa0w106XM9m83EmvIdpcSKcB1dfcEJWlVWvLLBsV6uHzI51pWT74Ciry41XTSwioKtl8aFDg=s912" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="912" data-original-width="684" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFrTIFZ44mxofZKvmaAvpvzLlBNFGnCwu58NkVPRiqAQ3m_gcXsiobj-0A0Dr27Sr-6NMPbns5RW6GHSAtN4TzOE79mjx2uNqb7XM-uDXTi_spICaa0w106XM9m83EmvIdpcSKcB1dfcEJWlVWvLLBsV6uHzI51pWT74Ciry41XTSwioKtl8aFDg=s320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiuiaZSEDTBKwIREpP8B9x8kQQAYUWDkSP-YlvTVK0fFAwmatK0Zxk23CIcFyDCiYerDJ0CyfZYPt4QP1UrYqlsOD2b9Fr2e2fySGylEkgpCqwKgSL-hJqnYF6TcTx1y7JL1LG1CHi68LGCCkklLSul4mvhaAHAkQWxFQKjJlTIsA8-T4sPtRUPaw=s1824" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="1360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiuiaZSEDTBKwIREpP8B9x8kQQAYUWDkSP-YlvTVK0fFAwmatK0Zxk23CIcFyDCiYerDJ0CyfZYPt4QP1UrYqlsOD2b9Fr2e2fySGylEkgpCqwKgSL-hJqnYF6TcTx1y7JL1LG1CHi68LGCCkklLSul4mvhaAHAkQWxFQKjJlTIsA8-T4sPtRUPaw=s320" width="239" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiZKK_OS_pHhoIUS8oDgWCRIPoA5npdr1TQfZcl9ytHTbs8K8ChxP7zBMBNjJ_rNVxTq7nc-IHdJWaAB8hiJKFfJMrQNRFMlXFAPzd78fiNl1ofY6mCOidYEucRx__NO6jmRS75TWKOQ2L575UDqQGXNbSTWMdvIQgBosUlPIOTBcpxNmiaBTolqg=s1008" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="464" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiZKK_OS_pHhoIUS8oDgWCRIPoA5npdr1TQfZcl9ytHTbs8K8ChxP7zBMBNjJ_rNVxTq7nc-IHdJWaAB8hiJKFfJMrQNRFMlXFAPzd78fiNl1ofY6mCOidYEucRx__NO6jmRS75TWKOQ2L575UDqQGXNbSTWMdvIQgBosUlPIOTBcpxNmiaBTolqg=s320" width="147" /></a></div></div></div><p>The me of today is satisfied with that, too. I know we still have a lifetime to go, but if the first five years is any indication, we are on the right track. We have set the tone, we've adopted the perspective, and we plan to keep it up as we keep moving forward.</p><p><br /></p><p>We miss you, Drewy. We are so proud of your life. We are so thankful we had you, even if it was for such a short time. You'll always be my little boy, and I cannot wait until I get to see you again. </p><p>Happy Glory Day my sweet baby 💗</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLMAvg4gjZGJN8RY2avm3bJEkSC-OXhCEzGZpxZES95cunaGcja19pvpVbIAnSbtFqrriYUmpbXn38nsXn_Csn58P_zT5YtSHiOu2vzWihBZO4LR3F2vug0SfjLBfKIHR199WBJvI6BDoTy7GbzycN8lxLFp3z9f7NFS-j5fIs9mke-clyYXCB8w=s4611" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3074" data-original-width="4611" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLMAvg4gjZGJN8RY2avm3bJEkSC-OXhCEzGZpxZES95cunaGcja19pvpVbIAnSbtFqrriYUmpbXn38nsXn_Csn58P_zT5YtSHiOu2vzWihBZO4LR3F2vug0SfjLBfKIHR199WBJvI6BDoTy7GbzycN8lxLFp3z9f7NFS-j5fIs9mke-clyYXCB8w=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-78162087214954414902021-10-27T17:20:00.003-05:002021-10-27T20:34:50.538-05:00A 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. <h2 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5biHATDOHbw5wp9DGxdTED4Gj3r2EtKdQ_W8Ls6kywHxFOG4R6lbQOJkrVBej-qfTOXd_glKA4tqFOC90lfuH8h7rws95__FhFCkBMyXaoDUZfuXPxlvk-PhZWj3OLfyTYk3noXdUtQ/s1008/247289606_591415398944174_2184782264827803616_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="756" data-original-width="1008" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5biHATDOHbw5wp9DGxdTED4Gj3r2EtKdQ_W8Ls6kywHxFOG4R6lbQOJkrVBej-qfTOXd_glKA4tqFOC90lfuH8h7rws95__FhFCkBMyXaoDUZfuXPxlvk-PhZWj3OLfyTYk3noXdUtQ/s320/247289606_591415398944174_2184782264827803616_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></span></h2>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.<div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8tYCaMsD4lPjZAouRELV9h6Sm-On5vZYJMS9mNas0YgGCv6hX5F4ZLJJASSRaQWh8Klg3TzzjANK3-H6gkXSovnNLmADhDMQ90fe2DwpekEboCrBkcr1-fvJKtliaQMOTZwUzJ74r2g/s1008/248352346_909760573298476_3410733155766958595_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="752" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8tYCaMsD4lPjZAouRELV9h6Sm-On5vZYJMS9mNas0YgGCv6hX5F4ZLJJASSRaQWh8Klg3TzzjANK3-H6gkXSovnNLmADhDMQ90fe2DwpekEboCrBkcr1-fvJKtliaQMOTZwUzJ74r2g/s320/248352346_909760573298476_3410733155766958595_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div><br /></div>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. <div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Bqtuu5HpA6NuY7EvMySU8kOaB3YwPp0MrfVuYPcVGUb2Cl5g8i3oxnbvhD0ydRIQL3H60wG6XkpYgyzlDxlEfEA59a8AowJpgNYSSwI6-2utIszo80EdnoAbgSAE5eotEhMhjClMUw/s1008/247108045_589551008910363_7461733519173511741_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="752" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Bqtuu5HpA6NuY7EvMySU8kOaB3YwPp0MrfVuYPcVGUb2Cl5g8i3oxnbvhD0ydRIQL3H60wG6XkpYgyzlDxlEfEA59a8AowJpgNYSSwI6-2utIszo80EdnoAbgSAE5eotEhMhjClMUw/s320/247108045_589551008910363_7461733519173511741_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaCbQC1qagCtdr98vTl1WL5MZd5QXRRnzXNkXVkDPvMXeR2g013yjRYKec1kS0fCqFJdpon7Hzj8sWIqtr2j2NYvtGqZ2Kojs5L-DCEyvHtkWxHm9JlghNY5cb60loppf6CvNA36IynA/s960/249919599_624489111907153_7694486137104789151_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaCbQC1qagCtdr98vTl1WL5MZd5QXRRnzXNkXVkDPvMXeR2g013yjRYKec1kS0fCqFJdpon7Hzj8sWIqtr2j2NYvtGqZ2Kojs5L-DCEyvHtkWxHm9JlghNY5cb60loppf6CvNA36IynA/s320/249919599_624489111907153_7694486137104789151_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Molly and I collected a rainbow one morning before school on our walk. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2vzkcsssLM0iF_IeIQVTCQnsgafJ0hsp7icl7uCNCsudEH_tMl974mkJerOIB9y9C4xoOjrSBF-V9USKYyEcLLQ_O5hYylmbI3u_CaCPYU7jHdXqLj7h8nwDOPfYL0EKrxv2wmxvmhQ/s1008/246847935_925694951637611_183576974237998143_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="752" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2vzkcsssLM0iF_IeIQVTCQnsgafJ0hsp7icl7uCNCsudEH_tMl974mkJerOIB9y9C4xoOjrSBF-V9USKYyEcLLQ_O5hYylmbI3u_CaCPYU7jHdXqLj7h8nwDOPfYL0EKrxv2wmxvmhQ/s320/246847935_925694951637611_183576974237998143_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div><br /></div>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. <div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh78FwqHGifeDbusrJ8fn1pUz_0Wn87XoNXxg_2EgD0ZK1QIzdiLigVh-GSe_YGVKI75UDcsj4eUUJtrb460K2RvctXPHsTiPjDPGQlBcrl4pwQGvQA5OY-JqPYGNcYL5VZS2loUeJnRA/s2016/246219727_3777815435654663_1401420843716582336_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh78FwqHGifeDbusrJ8fn1pUz_0Wn87XoNXxg_2EgD0ZK1QIzdiLigVh-GSe_YGVKI75UDcsj4eUUJtrb460K2RvctXPHsTiPjDPGQlBcrl4pwQGvQA5OY-JqPYGNcYL5VZS2loUeJnRA/s320/246219727_3777815435654663_1401420843716582336_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeON0S3g4FqOvKK5CdGGhZ0x4rBVVPYQl22mw3XmvWFMvklC_1fmcFTE9YDZXyFYn4Ky7tpAzAFN9cP7kDRBslK_nrZL4UnxbWEyhhKHtWtTYGZCuB3omabZoQhf8of0xGFYUuX40Ylg/s1008/248014257_1051313858967919_186459118878021768_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="756" data-original-width="1008" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeON0S3g4FqOvKK5CdGGhZ0x4rBVVPYQl22mw3XmvWFMvklC_1fmcFTE9YDZXyFYn4Ky7tpAzAFN9cP7kDRBslK_nrZL4UnxbWEyhhKHtWtTYGZCuB3omabZoQhf8of0xGFYUuX40Ylg/s320/248014257_1051313858967919_186459118878021768_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrMMuoCLvniRmWTrehqzpSSasrGgt3QNE9KSf0VdVWRwBaI5-RK2FxF_RUxkxshQUXXXV4KIWKETcNFBuTX37Ca-xEISrhclLkuvKcu5sPNO7V1-DahTPJVvTQB4tRKstnonvuXy2uyw/s945/248271803_925677245026321_2602979489158641762_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="945" data-original-width="648" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrMMuoCLvniRmWTrehqzpSSasrGgt3QNE9KSf0VdVWRwBaI5-RK2FxF_RUxkxshQUXXXV4KIWKETcNFBuTX37Ca-xEISrhclLkuvKcu5sPNO7V1-DahTPJVvTQB4tRKstnonvuXy2uyw/s320/248271803_925677245026321_2602979489158641762_n.jpg" width="219" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div>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.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtqHHhBq4S-Lz4Od8AClIXtdXNis1-YQ6WPWwIOtNQf5gwSIKy4vyVJ74PK0hpXXJjzi4GRl8bLYZHs6inC15_-KdxG648v7Q4z1rNgxg4w_FF003AbZsTIL9xfZc7OknA_wBmOQeS2Q/s1008/245626741_1675818692628944_4318429570048749530_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="752" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtqHHhBq4S-Lz4Od8AClIXtdXNis1-YQ6WPWwIOtNQf5gwSIKy4vyVJ74PK0hpXXJjzi4GRl8bLYZHs6inC15_-KdxG648v7Q4z1rNgxg4w_FF003AbZsTIL9xfZc7OknA_wBmOQeS2Q/s320/245626741_1675818692628944_4318429570048749530_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAlYGIuHVYM4tF9hg-i6taGErQMiHtFbsUHt4DzpChNJmpDQyl6KfAgFiifBg6cNzDByauVvCvNs_Nbhg3_rAvAIT0BrI0ozIaIOnIQf4j-1EyZcBTof2xYm1LWG6Zl673F8-W-o5tiA/s1136/246019473_336990244864137_8644472134380198514_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1136" data-original-width="855" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAlYGIuHVYM4tF9hg-i6taGErQMiHtFbsUHt4DzpChNJmpDQyl6KfAgFiifBg6cNzDByauVvCvNs_Nbhg3_rAvAIT0BrI0ozIaIOnIQf4j-1EyZcBTof2xYm1LWG6Zl673F8-W-o5tiA/s320/246019473_336990244864137_8644472134380198514_n.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVWXN0bZF0tBE-hwgDT1IGiQ5toePOnx8JUaM5G1u94eJ4LjGq1Cg1LxV6gtLGmGzTTyqL33dBo9h0M499pAEuevSF9GhWUew-Ei9UMLHpyu6z7dCD3ui8q-Sf9kXl_NiuKq7iS_Ut8A/s1008/247248310_1005737706939885_5492216556537576747_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="756" data-original-width="1008" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVWXN0bZF0tBE-hwgDT1IGiQ5toePOnx8JUaM5G1u94eJ4LjGq1Cg1LxV6gtLGmGzTTyqL33dBo9h0M499pAEuevSF9GhWUew-Ei9UMLHpyu6z7dCD3ui8q-Sf9kXl_NiuKq7iS_Ut8A/s320/247248310_1005737706939885_5492216556537576747_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>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.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0jAwqNl7-sgeeD5By0qNjjczF0t4G3kq-akVYdlfYvAhnCR5u8hjhDCXeBORHwYlPYjQShfFywn-m8ZqPVVyqV-4Jj7A7L3fn8zbAdEQfom9EVrkE49gqGJdF0usdkxSCK3lKUwM2ZA/s960/leaves.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0jAwqNl7-sgeeD5By0qNjjczF0t4G3kq-akVYdlfYvAhnCR5u8hjhDCXeBORHwYlPYjQShfFywn-m8ZqPVVyqV-4Jj7A7L3fn8zbAdEQfom9EVrkE49gqGJdF0usdkxSCK3lKUwM2ZA/s320/leaves.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunZ508LC4z0gg0JXWMQfqjlnGx1dXUa1m4fCKjHxDCkQGG47saDURtGJtN41rlASNiFBagv7bktgVBvHDGP91ztOjCInslUHwTmeQVP-wk0lYzGbRY2csarS8f_TDuE0y8Q3t9lFV0A/s1008/247714777_404863321182865_9047774010124214572_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="752" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunZ508LC4z0gg0JXWMQfqjlnGx1dXUa1m4fCKjHxDCkQGG47saDURtGJtN41rlASNiFBagv7bktgVBvHDGP91ztOjCInslUHwTmeQVP-wk0lYzGbRY2csarS8f_TDuE0y8Q3t9lFV0A/s320/247714777_404863321182865_9047774010124214572_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>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. <div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRjcgu7gsv8v2rTFjf2AN9VAKaWLPjdEKuHCqSrYrx9IiZvi_Saor2eTf9orfqHaMeEhrd1ii24T3iQYTTXshbVLry5-DCzSb1jSSbYvzG8UYB1U6xUFMQPA15jnbwy1wbpVH7-HHdUw/s2016/246352427_425333909181457_1482838017614243753_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRjcgu7gsv8v2rTFjf2AN9VAKaWLPjdEKuHCqSrYrx9IiZvi_Saor2eTf9orfqHaMeEhrd1ii24T3iQYTTXshbVLry5-DCzSb1jSSbYvzG8UYB1U6xUFMQPA15jnbwy1wbpVH7-HHdUw/s320/246352427_425333909181457_1482838017614243753_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgiEg-B1VouWHD6J5wixHt0gGnYz8C8y6gL9XE_PQuZvlqwEeJkVVaN9o-mIcA9Q7Rq-mnCpntEYwSZDNPRHCcuo9g1EfkuoqZaBy6yUo_0dn-SFWADOibtX03bJ02OVgw6IXs5sf76g/s1008/245853637_597734211644905_8028109894872831767_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="752" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgiEg-B1VouWHD6J5wixHt0gGnYz8C8y6gL9XE_PQuZvlqwEeJkVVaN9o-mIcA9Q7Rq-mnCpntEYwSZDNPRHCcuo9g1EfkuoqZaBy6yUo_0dn-SFWADOibtX03bJ02OVgw6IXs5sf76g/s320/245853637_597734211644905_8028109894872831767_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br />This unbelievably amazing season is ending. And it's more than a little sad. <br /><br />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.<br /><br /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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...<br /><br /><br />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.<br /><br />It was certainly more than a little sad. There was definitely a new sense of urgency to enjoy each good day with our Drew. <br /><br />We'd have just over 11 weeks with him after that day, before Jesus welcomed him into Heaven...</div><div><br /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFEEW4-r4PGaTKw905A23me_XlwJvQFb_BzmCH0gdrrhRaXHWqTOwkHUx6soI5PUoXUct37d4YPGIOG-5kG8flbWbGhJVWHH3r6Cs5Dtd1-B2Z7hclfVi4SHN7RczYnIjgTIXMxyZLWg/s2048/IMG_8421.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFEEW4-r4PGaTKw905A23me_XlwJvQFb_BzmCH0gdrrhRaXHWqTOwkHUx6soI5PUoXUct37d4YPGIOG-5kG8flbWbGhJVWHH3r6Cs5Dtd1-B2Z7hclfVi4SHN7RczYnIjgTIXMxyZLWg/s320/IMG_8421.jpg" width="213" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div>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.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZVMdBGd83CQSzZOAeIoI0efWa_R2F-a56mo76BeVXZd-TKgrrqXyIkTIh3UEVxM41x-qE9XE3q5Uai5e0RYp2WPpHuH4woMp1e0QEY659JwM5vZL1ye27SB3ALeDLRIWlNLWRtOIPA/s960/choose+courage.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZVMdBGd83CQSzZOAeIoI0efWa_R2F-a56mo76BeVXZd-TKgrrqXyIkTIh3UEVxM41x-qE9XE3q5Uai5e0RYp2WPpHuH4woMp1e0QEY659JwM5vZL1ye27SB3ALeDLRIWlNLWRtOIPA/s320/choose+courage.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2iLQeMXZo1RekGyNhYvDAp0f8SxMLUKhTFv1J1wikMl8_SZAbctZhlP1FTO-VligVrZymjMfE_3kN3KwYvjUUf0oGq2M-fjFvobl-3KdbfKEn1o2d7jUCT3hH5SJL2-gLd3_PPkm7kQ/s800/momsnuggles.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2iLQeMXZo1RekGyNhYvDAp0f8SxMLUKhTFv1J1wikMl8_SZAbctZhlP1FTO-VligVrZymjMfE_3kN3KwYvjUUf0oGq2M-fjFvobl-3KdbfKEn1o2d7jUCT3hH5SJL2-gLd3_PPkm7kQ/s320/momsnuggles.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCTHgF0VbyigQ5jIXrTHULCcCNsib1qb0lbF6De3N6M4hvlsMiVkMgKBbvnE0gxEUE2jl8wBH2xOr0MKr6s5hyfEs-4BnAuOCK2VsMrA0jLe9TuYfMvPdssepmtSUCuu-zyqDNKgK47A/s960/smooches.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCTHgF0VbyigQ5jIXrTHULCcCNsib1qb0lbF6De3N6M4hvlsMiVkMgKBbvnE0gxEUE2jl8wBH2xOr0MKr6s5hyfEs-4BnAuOCK2VsMrA0jLe9TuYfMvPdssepmtSUCuu-zyqDNKgK47A/s320/smooches.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggKonBl4aCzIz7vr304_mdEz8ZYq2w11-qKvWw89cGYrYS1KJGgvEPLLVRt2XFnl09oA0t4pxMeWuWyfRchWnZ0anXwEsbynIUCz-0CiHGZad7IoN3bVkPpARxaVzroa-S8kzQFd2Avw/s800/touchedup.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="780" data-original-width="800" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggKonBl4aCzIz7vr304_mdEz8ZYq2w11-qKvWw89cGYrYS1KJGgvEPLLVRt2XFnl09oA0t4pxMeWuWyfRchWnZ0anXwEsbynIUCz-0CiHGZad7IoN3bVkPpARxaVzroa-S8kzQFd2Avw/s320/touchedup.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjVhIBECDbp7sp50ewbqu33Uq-2zhGeeoMWDBd4OHi0jbJRViQpQ883mEfVAZHv3lFhdRKhNBB1D9iDY04y-_GEXBJs-MBA70NBJ0dLcQfvQuja_wY3iboSGqeic3d2aHlp4E2NfUB9Q/s800/Hi.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="592" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjVhIBECDbp7sp50ewbqu33Uq-2zhGeeoMWDBd4OHi0jbJRViQpQ883mEfVAZHv3lFhdRKhNBB1D9iDY04y-_GEXBJs-MBA70NBJ0dLcQfvQuja_wY3iboSGqeic3d2aHlp4E2NfUB9Q/s320/Hi.jpg" width="237" /></a></div><div><br /></div>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. <br /><br />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.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBrjE-BTfsnOdIm605YjEw9Ps7aIo6wp7LAJTDZRH9o8egAp662FSmSybfWbqrppkcOfB9lLXn920iIhh59KuE2mW08lKRajF89uf-4DmkOqVHdV9zwbN2jXUHq1J62lakUPbDb3tsUA/s960/smiles.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBrjE-BTfsnOdIm605YjEw9Ps7aIo6wp7LAJTDZRH9o8egAp662FSmSybfWbqrppkcOfB9lLXn920iIhh59KuE2mW08lKRajF89uf-4DmkOqVHdV9zwbN2jXUHq1J62lakUPbDb3tsUA/s320/smiles.jpg" width="176" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSD6qSkkgKLvHWLsWNRpxb0fYKWJH6kPcsfeza0LBYnPs0k8m7yxIs3zB6Uw6c858ZjWrEIluA2nO0hNZmPt7cQIvBUZr0mi5uHLCHTdtHyFPw9tp_vMQYVV5FSTfpVqkVUAnqEpc5NQ/s960/windows.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSD6qSkkgKLvHWLsWNRpxb0fYKWJH6kPcsfeza0LBYnPs0k8m7yxIs3zB6Uw6c858ZjWrEIluA2nO0hNZmPt7cQIvBUZr0mi5uHLCHTdtHyFPw9tp_vMQYVV5FSTfpVqkVUAnqEpc5NQ/s320/windows.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNBCHauQl98et1ljndcubpAx1OnuiruaPh8XVbWuao1ksB_E4C8mTi9HxMzuGi67ouHaYNTRw1AnDZbmc0uzPv07qQnC3LRpMRh4JfA60zgOwGeCzrAD4Z2kwR8WCvCtxwy9cDnP2Xog/s2048/IMG_8608.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNBCHauQl98et1ljndcubpAx1OnuiruaPh8XVbWuao1ksB_E4C8mTi9HxMzuGi67ouHaYNTRw1AnDZbmc0uzPv07qQnC3LRpMRh4JfA60zgOwGeCzrAD4Z2kwR8WCvCtxwy9cDnP2Xog/s320/IMG_8608.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div>Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-1080470049796219162021-07-29T18:46:00.000-05:002021-07-29T18:46:02.656-05:00Getting Through Hard Things<p>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. </p><p>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. </p><p>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.</p><p>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!</p><p>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...</p><p><br /></p><p>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.</p><p>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!". </p><p>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. </p><p><br /></p><p>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.</p><p>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. </p><p>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!"</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhguCpXZ-vwd6ZCoWCT5V4Hyp-wyeunz0VIwZH0ctY7-dzaI9YR7qqC1EMZK_ApcQNozvaP0W-KmiXS4WgHqkhe-3MzmfvFtTmnf3X97Vc0qLtNltm7jj_egv84bJnEDBwarfbtLmBohg/s1080/225250251_2901247193538207_958405382500992477_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhguCpXZ-vwd6ZCoWCT5V4Hyp-wyeunz0VIwZH0ctY7-dzaI9YR7qqC1EMZK_ApcQNozvaP0W-KmiXS4WgHqkhe-3MzmfvFtTmnf3X97Vc0qLtNltm7jj_egv84bJnEDBwarfbtLmBohg/s320/225250251_2901247193538207_958405382500992477_n.jpg" width="152" /></a></div><p></p><p>We pulled over to get a better look, and take it all in. Stopping to smell the flowers--literally! And it made us smile.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLAAQtnBB1ISmZBpOTRR55xSZmLzm0atTln9tI1fF0W1fPHWzuDKKVvuHC4NP7myYYPe3eFi4xIUiWxAMjiWwufZy6d6f0QezZTjwPSG3JYGXWr58UKyvqgOE99CdvZ-mxZ21xCeiMQ/s1080/228085414_524268905562210_7715287708402243123_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLAAQtnBB1ISmZBpOTRR55xSZmLzm0atTln9tI1fF0W1fPHWzuDKKVvuHC4NP7myYYPe3eFi4xIUiWxAMjiWwufZy6d6f0QezZTjwPSG3JYGXWr58UKyvqgOE99CdvZ-mxZ21xCeiMQ/s320/228085414_524268905562210_7715287708402243123_n.jpg" width="152" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>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.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPQzcf9Uz_9uR7cTY-GMuBbCQX2xrJYEZlxJ2I6rQjhceHXVgsd1LTanhODrUJHSvEoJuO-liLOSsd3JAK5FzIXwrEtN4HVrGatdtGX000N_P8OIg2umV89B5psgMOIeCZK9Y54Wgl7g/s1137/219380012_4200440490050731_6313665350674630687_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1106" data-original-width="1137" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPQzcf9Uz_9uR7cTY-GMuBbCQX2xrJYEZlxJ2I6rQjhceHXVgsd1LTanhODrUJHSvEoJuO-liLOSsd3JAK5FzIXwrEtN4HVrGatdtGX000N_P8OIg2umV89B5psgMOIeCZK9Y54Wgl7g/s320/219380012_4200440490050731_6313665350674630687_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>And that was our "thing" of that day.</p><p><br /></p><p>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.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikHqmv29fE1VnBIHkUtfC1oZx-p_hyphenhyphentqWXHxZ2MkEPRok5edM3HuuEIhtXAQSvWOvxM9JvPpKtkDhsYLzJDCscnHtG8B5iReWTYnm43a9MWWOMfAvVdfWIV6vNKFrIcIrLFqzfxMJiGQ/s2016/221753033_816659312551908_4120665594899397179_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="944" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikHqmv29fE1VnBIHkUtfC1oZx-p_hyphenhyphentqWXHxZ2MkEPRok5edM3HuuEIhtXAQSvWOvxM9JvPpKtkDhsYLzJDCscnHtG8B5iReWTYnm43a9MWWOMfAvVdfWIV6vNKFrIcIrLFqzfxMJiGQ/s320/221753033_816659312551908_4120665594899397179_n.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><p></p><p>I'm watching it get longer and longer, and have nice big yellow flowers. No pumpkins yet, but everyday I check!</p><p><br /></p><p>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.</p><p>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.</p><p>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. </p><p>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.</p><p>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...</p><p>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. </p><p>But when it's someone else, a dear friend, I guess I can get angry for <i>them</i>. 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.</p><p>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. </p><p>And when I was ready, He ever so gently reminded me of the Truth.</p><p>He <i>does</i> 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. </p><p>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. </p><p>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. </p><p>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.</p><p><br /></p><p>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...</p><p>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.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXrlBN33dLgVRD5M40gOyOHmD6cnH2x-jOHbdlv1sjdP2hRF5QvQpg5UETFqxMiYuSukOdl3TzGjgN_m1inACAGXUb3EbrA8bd6zfXchT9XZFa28coz6i1sVrBIQlU160wRvZijO6LcQ/s960/13592560_10103364188496250_2216219817541102068_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXrlBN33dLgVRD5M40gOyOHmD6cnH2x-jOHbdlv1sjdP2hRF5QvQpg5UETFqxMiYuSukOdl3TzGjgN_m1inACAGXUb3EbrA8bd6zfXchT9XZFa28coz6i1sVrBIQlU160wRvZijO6LcQ/s320/13592560_10103364188496250_2216219817541102068_n.jpg" width="176" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilhFMbG59TjEfHgHoESjFM45FQqJANRN_BdeFf2I9FFtF1zxijKb3Dm6COdd1dFYSOExGN3aH1kv-9QiGTg3AxfqfBgLuwIekPulg4IRfk37AiX9jo1-2FC7wcIVOPcIy5LFV82ZKgqQ/s800/Hi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="592" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilhFMbG59TjEfHgHoESjFM45FQqJANRN_BdeFf2I9FFtF1zxijKb3Dm6COdd1dFYSOExGN3aH1kv-9QiGTg3AxfqfBgLuwIekPulg4IRfk37AiX9jo1-2FC7wcIVOPcIy5LFV82ZKgqQ/s320/Hi.jpg" width="237" /></a> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqj3V4TmdHjvJM9Mtaay155dTL0syg0s9c_GJEGbRjybfB0TpeLpZ6LWyGwPYcSVd-mVxNk6oDHGI4vW9Rt4d6yRnoYoGhPJQnANyDn9ZtVibQry9hi3SQrNrm51OQo_34x7whpl7wNQ/s800/paint.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqj3V4TmdHjvJM9Mtaay155dTL0syg0s9c_GJEGbRjybfB0TpeLpZ6LWyGwPYcSVd-mVxNk6oDHGI4vW9Rt4d6yRnoYoGhPJQnANyDn9ZtVibQry9hi3SQrNrm51OQo_34x7whpl7wNQ/s320/paint.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcUncR7-9qdrc0cunG0-ZeNxOy2imHgdisvuZUEf19Z_K-cqF2S6r44VVksbwRxURAFp9QuqHi2yRVp8Y6E2d_wVCgyd6aROXfRV3VT0phyphenhyphen0u4DT688a6X521HJlyLpcuvdHDW8eYfMQ/s800/liveinthemoment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="774" data-original-width="800" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcUncR7-9qdrc0cunG0-ZeNxOy2imHgdisvuZUEf19Z_K-cqF2S6r44VVksbwRxURAFp9QuqHi2yRVp8Y6E2d_wVCgyd6aROXfRV3VT0phyphenhyphen0u4DT688a6X521HJlyLpcuvdHDW8eYfMQ/s320/liveinthemoment.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>He will inspire me for the rest of my life. </p><p><br /></p><p>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, <br />and justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream 💗</p>Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-35086216478968630662021-04-22T16:07:00.003-05:002021-04-22T16:13:53.689-05:00And also...<p> 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. </p><p>The joy, the love, between big sister and little brother jumped right out of the photos and into my heart. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiliuf824lipiq7cyO5cKF7xErpPdT3FPTiMu9YIhMjwfcNuTk0r7hI3TeKnqpmeyE9zC0abu2wZ5Ni93wcVZO81qwR0bTd1NN1f-QCufRC45THjsqo0EMstYBdfA5XmLogMc0zOJoaKQ/s960/13043440_10103214288881280_2287123760657712515_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiliuf824lipiq7cyO5cKF7xErpPdT3FPTiMu9YIhMjwfcNuTk0r7hI3TeKnqpmeyE9zC0abu2wZ5Ni93wcVZO81qwR0bTd1NN1f-QCufRC45THjsqo0EMstYBdfA5XmLogMc0zOJoaKQ/s320/13043440_10103214288881280_2287123760657712515_n.jpg" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2h5uietUoipbXlE-EHRwfeokcfaTVfW9VG7riSG5oDhD2oLz1jqbz_HpqXg_rZb7TTpbcKaGJwjUWRxr2BoCMPXGs3rHzNKU64WKUtr_9T0MXvGEAV8Yrx6QwicVvOTDsRyS_YWOAYQ/s960/13076521_10103214288811420_245796952164416260_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2h5uietUoipbXlE-EHRwfeokcfaTVfW9VG7riSG5oDhD2oLz1jqbz_HpqXg_rZb7TTpbcKaGJwjUWRxr2BoCMPXGs3rHzNKU64WKUtr_9T0MXvGEAV8Yrx6QwicVvOTDsRyS_YWOAYQ/s320/13076521_10103214288811420_245796952164416260_n.jpg" /></a></div><p>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. </p><p>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. </p><p>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. </p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMF7M-2uXs-sr0c_kXrb2Ywsb8al3TzYfH0o28LvlgQIVDDKL-uW23KIsZZz9hQz8PKP525dtBm8d_JW82DjjKl6x75FU7P6DerPDXtGtQQeK5aGrR1_x_9tY8sFEjX0FHQzfUhaiSZg/s960/13055528_10103214288716610_3660038626189230849_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMF7M-2uXs-sr0c_kXrb2Ywsb8al3TzYfH0o28LvlgQIVDDKL-uW23KIsZZz9hQz8PKP525dtBm8d_JW82DjjKl6x75FU7P6DerPDXtGtQQeK5aGrR1_x_9tY8sFEjX0FHQzfUhaiSZg/s320/13055528_10103214288716610_3660038626189230849_n.jpg" /></a></p><p>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. </p><p>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... </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqa0ww6gjpP1uPRq9DBpBfQDd5GMSUBFn9BRfVU9M6v2qfcjpEi17FpiOkyNIafRJtB3RY-wfZABBd8Wtawfy3eQPOe2pmV0GS8Z7YWusgqYIhnrI5mKJyrxLvSQGX7N5cWdvVAry73g/s960/reading+books.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqa0ww6gjpP1uPRq9DBpBfQDd5GMSUBFn9BRfVU9M6v2qfcjpEi17FpiOkyNIafRJtB3RY-wfZABBd8Wtawfy3eQPOe2pmV0GS8Z7YWusgqYIhnrI5mKJyrxLvSQGX7N5cWdvVAry73g/s320/reading+books.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAch70ByLLP_N3M2AOMejAC8LWb6RnckoE8RlTsoOBVJlL-xNyCYJQEl-8At49Pt14-RkOFmW8OCuTsn9xIeBAs55O2SIZNQWepM45jEnZgJudErGTptwPR8vXZ3Hh2aL1tXshj0V1bg/s720/lap.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAch70ByLLP_N3M2AOMejAC8LWb6RnckoE8RlTsoOBVJlL-xNyCYJQEl-8At49Pt14-RkOFmW8OCuTsn9xIeBAs55O2SIZNQWepM45jEnZgJudErGTptwPR8vXZ3Hh2aL1tXshj0V1bg/s320/lap.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>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.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiuex1ubrR_Stz1nIJUuK0VpBjZsDbrSjska2ke7wGOnkBfVqfOJB7oLCvIITuRQ2fZA6XgYdupsz7yFf91MSNFKiCddR819FUt-8dD3fWZfKLjLRXpZMp7hwRuSj-X6jBaf5oDttlyw/s614/10478853_10102570915471750_2927003731612160522_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="614" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiuex1ubrR_Stz1nIJUuK0VpBjZsDbrSjska2ke7wGOnkBfVqfOJB7oLCvIITuRQ2fZA6XgYdupsz7yFf91MSNFKiCddR819FUt-8dD3fWZfKLjLRXpZMp7hwRuSj-X6jBaf5oDttlyw/s320/10478853_10102570915471750_2927003731612160522_n.jpg" /></a></div><p> 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. </p><p>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...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq2j6PFTLxCwrbho4vSz2AWGhehd_zITFYBp2rq45THkbVro_ozwHfF14Bd67MAJcvtEvUrlJObl9SRYbtGIyHSV9Y81fXEbucy18zI_EjLKIDN7hrvPwqkb_BJxFGDsDP5Yvbai0eGQ/s960/13010640_10103215591910000_718649413145768909_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq2j6PFTLxCwrbho4vSz2AWGhehd_zITFYBp2rq45THkbVro_ozwHfF14Bd67MAJcvtEvUrlJObl9SRYbtGIyHSV9Y81fXEbucy18zI_EjLKIDN7hrvPwqkb_BJxFGDsDP5Yvbai0eGQ/s320/13010640_10103215591910000_718649413145768909_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>I sit here, closing my eyes, and I am right back at 1405 10th Street NW, in the wonderful community of Austin, Minnesota.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinhrFNFxjQNqV8yh4YUXnNXKkhN9RTJgSUGbW2drY_sYuPeBZllbs8vQElVqeJWiLXe165Xid3pb0PTyWu6NRt1ePhayL-bsM2wPRcT5IPF9WxRpwQLIV7LEejTWjufLU2zjUiA3u1nw/s960/13615288_10103383209777450_1762152047826413113_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinhrFNFxjQNqV8yh4YUXnNXKkhN9RTJgSUGbW2drY_sYuPeBZllbs8vQElVqeJWiLXe165Xid3pb0PTyWu6NRt1ePhayL-bsM2wPRcT5IPF9WxRpwQLIV7LEejTWjufLU2zjUiA3u1nw/s320/13615288_10103383209777450_1762152047826413113_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p> 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. </p><p>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. </p><p><br /></p><p>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.</p><p>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<i> and also</i> excited about what is.</p><p>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.</p><p>The CBS class I've been a part of here in Colorado have been so wonderful. I can love them all, <i>and also </i>love all the other women I've been blessed to know through CBS in the past.</p><p>I can welcome new friendships <i>and also </i>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.</p><p>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, <i>and also</i> really be relishing my big Molly today! </p><p>How old she looks lately almost takes my breath away. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtwExTWgbWsZ7LgGpDXqcfj4om7QLrCI8YXdXpydt51d6p2KPUcJKK1WLUa0bzhRPy63lDDu7MRv1lMvcg_7cB_nXXL2hWpXayqpknmlGu3WzCRlA1p_8YjUAzNqZBEgip3iwFGQQCsw/s960/168470247_10108547002485470_4953740617333125493_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="788" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtwExTWgbWsZ7LgGpDXqcfj4om7QLrCI8YXdXpydt51d6p2KPUcJKK1WLUa0bzhRPy63lDDu7MRv1lMvcg_7cB_nXXL2hWpXayqpknmlGu3WzCRlA1p_8YjUAzNqZBEgip3iwFGQQCsw/s320/168470247_10108547002485470_4953740617333125493_n.jpg" /></a></div><p>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.</p><p>But it's okay that at the same time, my heart yearns to have an afternoon with 4 year old Molly again...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD9SKZFXYYbBA0BvThfx5X96TYuJQUGZR6R0pfguMspZmKL8S8MWUOQkWLcSInky9xy6hZ_c9s8CUZnRkmpwkVvbpxniOlNhluE0ycdCeKzjKB05XzaC8xat2_Nu4ULGqY45IlPFNsEQ/s960/15439976_10103804258652130_3178242525784837568_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD9SKZFXYYbBA0BvThfx5X96TYuJQUGZR6R0pfguMspZmKL8S8MWUOQkWLcSInky9xy6hZ_c9s8CUZnRkmpwkVvbpxniOlNhluE0ycdCeKzjKB05XzaC8xat2_Nu4ULGqY45IlPFNsEQ/s320/15439976_10103804258652130_3178242525784837568_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>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.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH3Tuqn832LBJrJ0URrShv3x3IfKMrcTZbA3j8f9xmNi3hyphenhyphenWbFee2WbHEe_POkytYCUOzsKWMTWe2gzW0zD26n2ALNj1L5IkU45oSTywMaLajBJGN8-HXvX3ajb8hzaU6hsv-fegImSw/s856/176143525_923604765073741_1887475021788017298_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="661" data-original-width="856" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH3Tuqn832LBJrJ0URrShv3x3IfKMrcTZbA3j8f9xmNi3hyphenhyphenWbFee2WbHEe_POkytYCUOzsKWMTWe2gzW0zD26n2ALNj1L5IkU45oSTywMaLajBJGN8-HXvX3ajb8hzaU6hsv-fegImSw/s320/176143525_923604765073741_1887475021788017298_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>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... </p><p>Again, I can be in love with our family right now, <i>and also</i> grieve for the one that was only together for less than 3 years.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeQAZ3rPLwuhPBp3DB04wQUUnuxkkDLOsaqAxBAAy4H-j_KJkQeeeBHvyT_uDRvSCVRdReWnXzLfWcEraVBgQpN4v0bvZEAnjlm3EbEkp8opR9OH3c8qX3rvzkNRxdgJz7SfaL2CjyUw/s729/12004884_10102837362394980_2613555925537916559_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="547" data-original-width="729" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeQAZ3rPLwuhPBp3DB04wQUUnuxkkDLOsaqAxBAAy4H-j_KJkQeeeBHvyT_uDRvSCVRdReWnXzLfWcEraVBgQpN4v0bvZEAnjlm3EbEkp8opR9OH3c8qX3rvzkNRxdgJz7SfaL2CjyUw/s320/12004884_10102837362394980_2613555925537916559_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><p>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, <i>and also</i> miss past communities I've lived in, and past seasons of my life--without taking away from either one.</p><p><br /></p><p>Our work with Warrior Wagons is another area I see this "and also" quite often. </p><p>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! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoD2OP7MbhvtstmMxxL-ThCLuVuiB8t1nHmjsLXbZkAvvaMHhO-bLrQZlBgm1P3ZZTNRmqOWzFlgoViq3NdnA_DxNVG5T8JUejDB5POJoiWTlNnRoW4qoJW8XTqLqnGjThI0b4vUgSg/s2048/174453548_2897323843852210_5694021559301176413_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoD2OP7MbhvtstmMxxL-ThCLuVuiB8t1nHmjsLXbZkAvvaMHhO-bLrQZlBgm1P3ZZTNRmqOWzFlgoViq3NdnA_DxNVG5T8JUejDB5POJoiWTlNnRoW4qoJW8XTqLqnGjThI0b4vUgSg/s320/174453548_2897323843852210_5694021559301176413_n.jpg" /></a></div><p>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! </p><p>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.</p><p>But as I pass Drew's urn and folded blanket as I file donation stubs--reality hits me too. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvxZiyeVnoqjiMtV_MNzGaend-h8Es1NyR1sqy4KPkS91_uqanfzYv6XENoTXtyWsZQh0zrNqcY4ulQiNyaxFcNtO_tjx4qOEBWYu962Zekh5kfGXLb2RMovn1V43GVeGadRhof8xw7w/s1903/176949179_118887913532072_1980101846903176924_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1903" data-original-width="1620" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvxZiyeVnoqjiMtV_MNzGaend-h8Es1NyR1sqy4KPkS91_uqanfzYv6XENoTXtyWsZQh0zrNqcY4ulQiNyaxFcNtO_tjx4qOEBWYu962Zekh5kfGXLb2RMovn1V43GVeGadRhof8xw7w/s320/176949179_118887913532072_1980101846903176924_n.jpg" /></a></div><p> 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. </p><p>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.</p><p>Once again, it's all valid and genuine. I can be encouraged and excited about all that's happening with Warrior Wagons, <i>and also</i> be totally heartbroken by the "why" behind it all. </p><p><br /></p><p>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. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_VVCW6h88L-RyehwTbLTQRCBJLUjFHEmzHuYomhmb98XaxKkV8P3JQk33cICOQGJEnyyz2o0Gz2dcX1RMKPylM9feCq-TZhmy9njM69juibETTD69_tU3iH4nNuNS5lJaMRnsIlW8Q/s1824/174474140_270855534711901_8335099762247832232_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="1368" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_VVCW6h88L-RyehwTbLTQRCBJLUjFHEmzHuYomhmb98XaxKkV8P3JQk33cICOQGJEnyyz2o0Gz2dcX1RMKPylM9feCq-TZhmy9njM69juibETTD69_tU3iH4nNuNS5lJaMRnsIlW8Q/s320/174474140_270855534711901_8335099762247832232_n.jpg" /></a></div><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglK2oIfJkI_XgZzC2gzIUHVEzpgQtiGklBNl8HOeeb-wUsePOu5H1gCWZJgzKUnEH16osKLSaQtdFUZXfRGSbMoxWkV3rtxZuLjk9uRAkshyrjzqQbRleuTfnLFtPNgoV3V-RjdV-0og/s1472/174292470_165383925462156_1127365183956082297_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1104" data-original-width="1472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglK2oIfJkI_XgZzC2gzIUHVEzpgQtiGklBNl8HOeeb-wUsePOu5H1gCWZJgzKUnEH16osKLSaQtdFUZXfRGSbMoxWkV3rtxZuLjk9uRAkshyrjzqQbRleuTfnLFtPNgoV3V-RjdV-0og/s320/174292470_165383925462156_1127365183956082297_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><span style="text-align: center;">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.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAZNqYO8rqQPC8CWMp-K6kx2lblS63CmIeJIzlAoqt1briYhK28SOwBhw6o2lz7QNQhsBxExzjdqcydpVKu4AoNJ_rEr-D5cUpSX8gzGgX8IItVyJUCv1Fwu4mT5Eixsmry_smtLFY7g/s960/163519290_10108513765856940_4385295031379049682_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAZNqYO8rqQPC8CWMp-K6kx2lblS63CmIeJIzlAoqt1briYhK28SOwBhw6o2lz7QNQhsBxExzjdqcydpVKu4AoNJ_rEr-D5cUpSX8gzGgX8IItVyJUCv1Fwu4mT5Eixsmry_smtLFY7g/s320/163519290_10108513765856940_4385295031379049682_n.jpg" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDfV4QBKGMFMo44lwsLObyIcXfWGDc0d5V5R2XmeVtlXVcEMa5W9vumc85zjwFECpCrlhjCTcnZriMBVPG24fAbXdLltFnhQf7To7vynp1yz-2pyLVSEDJ4KTQbZwMwxfzeh8rj85SGA/s960/163532752_10108513765238180_5608766250951602695_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDfV4QBKGMFMo44lwsLObyIcXfWGDc0d5V5R2XmeVtlXVcEMa5W9vumc85zjwFECpCrlhjCTcnZriMBVPG24fAbXdLltFnhQf7To7vynp1yz-2pyLVSEDJ4KTQbZwMwxfzeh8rj85SGA/s320/163532752_10108513765238180_5608766250951602695_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2h0A254_Sdn0WEEDTpUz7FXSyBfh63WX3xq5-Y4uBMfeO485z2iTl8_49bfbmopJDpJI8O5SnEUpf_4bykZTLJudWPNKmufBtL_aBEkQDUPolILbqHIutTyWtkjq3hPbwtcDmvcUrXQ/s960/164642265_10108513765767120_2998588363820994023_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2h0A254_Sdn0WEEDTpUz7FXSyBfh63WX3xq5-Y4uBMfeO485z2iTl8_49bfbmopJDpJI8O5SnEUpf_4bykZTLJudWPNKmufBtL_aBEkQDUPolILbqHIutTyWtkjq3hPbwtcDmvcUrXQ/s320/164642265_10108513765767120_2998588363820994023_n.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p>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!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9KXGmRkwcIlOHPdL6c4Rdv8jK-GEOJjSQuBU2u8J915hr-l9PIQMm9FnsHb4N62yANVK_-HDJ_lWTffjOuSN2TDmYGkO0xaIP15d0tylMH2Ec2n53fIvE1gWoU5VhFxyIxoXjuStCMw/s2016/174182549_3906094269483542_1929570624322847653_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9KXGmRkwcIlOHPdL6c4Rdv8jK-GEOJjSQuBU2u8J915hr-l9PIQMm9FnsHb4N62yANVK_-HDJ_lWTffjOuSN2TDmYGkO0xaIP15d0tylMH2Ec2n53fIvE1gWoU5VhFxyIxoXjuStCMw/s320/174182549_3906094269483542_1929570624322847653_n.jpg" /></a></div><p>It's been a busy, but fun spring. </p><p>And in the middle of all this, on April 1st, we celebrated the day our Drew was born. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmaNoQV6lkDnPzeyAgITKDAPjFeLnhh3CUMWU8fA9fk4rvdleCsCWDpjy0S6ZmBczlumQ72K03KZS26ZqOSMYQPIqu8r3_7hHlvhsvFC1CSpBMU16ltILFwrstz3L_vH3S-MrBursjYg/s1887/176982330_450009152771109_1932541169781692341_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1887" data-original-width="1561" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmaNoQV6lkDnPzeyAgITKDAPjFeLnhh3CUMWU8fA9fk4rvdleCsCWDpjy0S6ZmBczlumQ72K03KZS26ZqOSMYQPIqu8r3_7hHlvhsvFC1CSpBMU16ltILFwrstz3L_vH3S-MrBursjYg/s320/176982330_450009152771109_1932541169781692341_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>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.<div><br /><div><p>So once again, in giving myself permission to be sad <i>and also</i> 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. </p><p>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. </p><p>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.</p><p>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. </p><p>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 <i>and also</i> grieve for what was. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM2Js9ronCwLm2XhLdlnXGj8ZA7Hvpu7KwmpkwJFpvDyr91C1zu6igT3-u47B3EKIq7BTz4GS23nq5q9csDA4NGx6FJL-iQ_DpoUXNVrCIH6Cpcqiwne-wjOLNUr6Bx-p19C8NTYhN8Q/s2048/26758038_10105037482731190_6812168714459477170_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM2Js9ronCwLm2XhLdlnXGj8ZA7Hvpu7KwmpkwJFpvDyr91C1zu6igT3-u47B3EKIq7BTz4GS23nq5q9csDA4NGx6FJL-iQ_DpoUXNVrCIH6Cpcqiwne-wjOLNUr6Bx-p19C8NTYhN8Q/s320/26758038_10105037482731190_6812168714459477170_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaHhLu2AsQx63Bf8vuP7WFR68vYbDHP_E9KPspnl6Q3Nhn6Q04oRTMsUtcjSM2PkGeRzfUCZiZnOY4Z_5rMj4Rfs-6B3ks3laJu7eeDdyQyOfHpK6rVu_oZ9A5RqdJzkDtQ2AiSAWKmA/s960/13645222_10103383210515970_2418326005364270069_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaHhLu2AsQx63Bf8vuP7WFR68vYbDHP_E9KPspnl6Q3Nhn6Q04oRTMsUtcjSM2PkGeRzfUCZiZnOY4Z_5rMj4Rfs-6B3ks3laJu7eeDdyQyOfHpK6rVu_oZ9A5RqdJzkDtQ2AiSAWKmA/s320/13645222_10103383210515970_2418326005364270069_n.jpg" /></a></div></div></div>Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-47181711937501119592021-03-09T17:33:00.000-06:002021-03-09T17:33:52.213-06:00The Dove's Call<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3nWhxRVoOYR88GIL7VYIRvL1jU3TrhoRkpioZos1VeCetCPUhUELnuIFc0G4PqRpYf0j-TEtcqTXtvmnxPdOgyr7N6yEV_pj5FxS4XJV8ypcT0TB6CZxBPEmtXg5100mquvXzt6FpUQ/s2016/157041590_870566273724305_5043537437347754730_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3nWhxRVoOYR88GIL7VYIRvL1jU3TrhoRkpioZos1VeCetCPUhUELnuIFc0G4PqRpYf0j-TEtcqTXtvmnxPdOgyr7N6yEV_pj5FxS4XJV8ypcT0TB6CZxBPEmtXg5100mquvXzt6FpUQ/s320/157041590_870566273724305_5043537437347754730_n.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p>Hoo-hoo, hooo! The dove is a bird that I wasn't used to seeing all that often just flying around in the wild back in the Midwest. But in our part of Colorado at least, they're everywhere! Their unique call we noticed right away last summer as we spent the first few nights on our patio, and afternoons out in our kiddie pool. Snickers the cat seemed to notice them too. He'd sit at the window, watching them on the top of the playset, which is eye level from our upper level bedroom window, with his mouth open doing that cat chatter at them. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQbnZWUjKmqmOMPNqRvkzJ9UyeIRfjH9LWXV_S84ctnUPuHwcStIjQ7YJEaecz1JmxyavnOSBq_FrrD1pkWV7AxYzZqin0BkQq2N0Ab0cSoXyP-EKyj2Y7ddNByYy6lbUjBgsVbnTfyA/s1915/157540741_852255992284592_1063011731054765382_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1915" data-original-width="1362" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQbnZWUjKmqmOMPNqRvkzJ9UyeIRfjH9LWXV_S84ctnUPuHwcStIjQ7YJEaecz1JmxyavnOSBq_FrrD1pkWV7AxYzZqin0BkQq2N0Ab0cSoXyP-EKyj2Y7ddNByYy6lbUjBgsVbnTfyA/s320/157540741_852255992284592_1063011731054765382_n.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p>I don't know if I really noticed when their call became missing from the outdoor sounds this winter. Not sure if I even realized they were gone during the last few cold weather months. But man, in the last week, I am so glad to have them back! Hoo-hoo, hoooo....it's a welcome sound coming through the windows that haven't been opened since November. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI8jWl3Wa0LhqVAN4DDVRTbk3DxoXvSu2RkSI7t1XYHRIAZo1fvdhrP_z_mjR7yz4OHzc0uDpWP0xojphGbXBhrY1MuSbszAIXNXfkbSELsV_bSStlmlVjsz3B2EHM3Jxh0N0AEj60xg/s1967/157861492_352984929241607_3002567694380540208_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1967" data-original-width="1476" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI8jWl3Wa0LhqVAN4DDVRTbk3DxoXvSu2RkSI7t1XYHRIAZo1fvdhrP_z_mjR7yz4OHzc0uDpWP0xojphGbXBhrY1MuSbszAIXNXfkbSELsV_bSStlmlVjsz3B2EHM3Jxh0N0AEj60xg/s320/157861492_352984929241607_3002567694380540208_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p> Josh and I have the same debate every spring on the first warm day of the year. When 60 degrees never felt so good, the snow is melting and the sun is warm, I always point out that it's because of the recent winter that the day feels so much better. That if it wasn't for the cold, dark months we just went through, this first day of warm sunny weather wouldn't feel so good. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRurihyphenhyphen21n81vSQ9jm6LRE0gr2jKM7OrWBteSpbWGR61CmAI-v8LrfOFLM1J_-qqzYwme9199MlFX2eZuebudMBO2yZhu8eeC1wBuZPrsKMZkDy7AvgFc7yfKb3jgWrtfY3233csM3uQ/s2016/157568656_304559184569949_1739260734783270300_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRurihyphenhyphen21n81vSQ9jm6LRE0gr2jKM7OrWBteSpbWGR61CmAI-v8LrfOFLM1J_-qqzYwme9199MlFX2eZuebudMBO2yZhu8eeC1wBuZPrsKMZkDy7AvgFc7yfKb3jgWrtfY3233csM3uQ/s320/157568656_304559184569949_1739260734783270300_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>We had this annual conversation this week, as we got our first real taste of spring. And as always, he disagrees. Saying he would like 60 and sunny no matter what, and doesn't need winter to fully enjoy it. </p><p>Out here in Colorado, my point isn't quite as strong, as the winters aren't nearly as long and hard as back in Minnesota. But still, it hasn't been in the 60s for months. And I maintain that the glorious feeling we are filled with this week exists because of the winter blues experienced most recently.</p><p>And I'm relishing in the nice weather. My senses were overwhelmed as I sat out on the patio over the weekend. The birds (including those doves) were almost obnoxious in their songs, filling the air. The windchime we put out again at this house, clanging it's chords at the perfect level. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7S3C737fKKKF9JSh2KvXk_V3-KOnEVKkGt-3_VCx1sB3NwoSYCk0busDwQankVp4FeFpTYh4Ofb0BuRMuJI54GacloWMdlR714Ts5md9t1Vj9eG8vpoDmFUItJmB5SxEFPuXDP3owQ/s2016/157230188_110685070979253_4404439750817638627_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7S3C737fKKKF9JSh2KvXk_V3-KOnEVKkGt-3_VCx1sB3NwoSYCk0busDwQankVp4FeFpTYh4Ofb0BuRMuJI54GacloWMdlR714Ts5md9t1Vj9eG8vpoDmFUItJmB5SxEFPuXDP3owQ/s320/157230188_110685070979253_4404439750817638627_n.jpg" /></a></div><p>There was a bit of smoke in the air, not the forest-fire-haze variety we experienced last summer, but instead a pleasant distant yard waste burn from someone getting a jump start on spring clean up. And the warm sun (even warmer out here at 5,000 ft!) felt so, so great on my face and arms. The breeze that still had a small chill in it almost brought goosebumps, counteracting--no, balancing--the warm sunshine.</p><p>I sat there thinking about how delightful it all added up to. Spring in the air. I started thinking about how I could refresh the patio area, began planning out yard work/landscaping ideas, and looking forward to warm weather things--backyard fires and swimming pools. Soon, I found myself sitting there with big smile on my face...</p><p><br /></p><p>I think this spring in particular feels so much better after the long winter we just came through. This week marks one year since the first lockdowns. The beginning of the COVID pandemic, and many of our worlds were turned upside down. It was the hardest year some have experienced in a while, testing us in many ways. Some areas of our lives withstood the strain--and actually ended up stronger after a year. Some did not, and we may still be trying to figure out where to go from here. </p><p>As the vaccines start to get out, states are moving forward from pandemic protocols and precautions to a more familiar atmosphere. Activities are beginning to resume, plans are being made again for celebrations and travel. </p><p>We are daring to believe that we might be over the hump here, that things are really going to get better. The light at the end of the tunnel is getting brighter, and the optimism and hope feels so refreshing.</p><p>That's how it is here anyway. I finally need a planner again, as I have enough presentations, calls, meet ups, and appointments that I can't just keep track of it all in my head. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFcuA68xIeFUdcDk217cgSu6eBj4O-tltFYVkfLbOAq5WX-0gWI1KwNNwzI6j4hL00uO00jH1sWD1mNHJ7r2qx-_0pNqxhgR6bTku9x6hvGFY41TFXFj-P3JC8aRtxzkHVevn9jNAbCQ/s2016/158351923_779166422729593_8388453369519770083_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFcuA68xIeFUdcDk217cgSu6eBj4O-tltFYVkfLbOAq5WX-0gWI1KwNNwzI6j4hL00uO00jH1sWD1mNHJ7r2qx-_0pNqxhgR6bTku9x6hvGFY41TFXFj-P3JC8aRtxzkHVevn9jNAbCQ/s320/158351923_779166422729593_8388453369519770083_n.jpg" /></a></div><br />I've given 4 virtual presentations this year already, with 2 more next week!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9Q9caNDhyphenhyphenZR3IXXlnwPzhthpTRg_vQqQJMwhT4iq3G2MOCIUxkWt4nUbWgdwlrcBZHPezaLkjBGL2xbPdQBxJY1bo1fSLJ-M4PUoTP3C8ORVRTmKPJAizuQzghxjQhfzf1bA39aaGQ/s1223/157500974_880396999195412_6838654043732521237_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9Q9caNDhyphenhyphenZR3IXXlnwPzhthpTRg_vQqQJMwhT4iq3G2MOCIUxkWt4nUbWgdwlrcBZHPezaLkjBGL2xbPdQBxJY1bo1fSLJ-M4PUoTP3C8ORVRTmKPJAizuQzghxjQhfzf1bA39aaGQ/s320/157500974_880396999195412_6838654043732521237_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7lvcp-IqrgGNSoRU5Qf6JGLE8K0HYz5NH2bmna6cHfi4NP37uWO_ilo9E0O3pzGE4Z2rmjnywhGGSFS8lL9TbD4167DS8V9LNHNdyxeWG6LOIUsLPSJiMI9Nx7DZZd6m2cKPtl_YJQ/s1840/158484497_507563763563595_1804006128818275440_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1840" data-original-width="1380" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7lvcp-IqrgGNSoRU5Qf6JGLE8K0HYz5NH2bmna6cHfi4NP37uWO_ilo9E0O3pzGE4Z2rmjnywhGGSFS8lL9TbD4167DS8V9LNHNdyxeWG6LOIUsLPSJiMI9Nx7DZZd6m2cKPtl_YJQ/s320/158484497_507563763563595_1804006128818275440_n.jpg" /></a></div><p>Molly's rockin' in school, and I'm also back to a regular gym routine which always feels so great. Josh is at least <i>talking</i> about when they may go back to the office too, fingers crossed! We're hesitantly optimistic that our cruise we've moved 3 times may actually happen this coming June. And even though we've explored a lot on a few road trips in the last year, we're starting to make a list of new things we can explore and try out right here now that things are more open. We haven't done much in Denver yet!</p><p>Would having a planner again, going on a cruise feel as good if we didn't just spend a year with such things on hold? Would simply the thought of being able to attend concerts, celebrate milestones with family, or participate in activities be as appreciated if we didn't just have a year without them? I'd argue not as much as this year. In like fashion of that first 60 degree day in spring, it feels more glorious right now, because of the season we just went through.</p><p><br /></p><p>Yes, I'd say there's more than just warmth in the air in the last few weeks, there's also hope. Hope that we won't have to go without the things we've missed in the last year anymore. Things like seeing stranger's smiles at the grocery store, greeting our friends with a hug, if that's your sort of thing 😉 Just like like the dove's call, we may not have even realized we missed some things, but when we hear it again, we'll be filled with a peace, a joy, that winter is on the way out, and this is just the start of many nice days to come.</p><p><br /></p><p>Now, as any Minnesotan will tell you, the first 60 degree day doesn't mean we're done with winter just yet. There will inevitably be some cold, snowy days still to come before we are in the backyard pool with a Summer Shandy (In Colorado too--a big snow storm is in the forecast for the weekend!). But it's a start. It gives us a tease, something to look forward to as we endure a few more days when we need our coats and boots.</p><p>Just as it is with life. Things looking up, the light getting brighter at the end of the tunnel, doesn't mean we're through the darkness totally. There will be setbacks, new trials to endure, but we have the same hope and motivation to keep pressing forward. And then to stop and savor the comfort and peace of a more familiar way to do life--just like I delighted my senses last Saturday afternoon on my patio.</p><p><br /></p><p>I can't end a post about spring and hope without talking about Heaven. This relief we feel, this glorious return of warm weather after winter, I believe to be just a taste of what it will feel like when we step into our Eternal Home. How amazing it will feel indeed when we reach the ultimate joy and never-ending peace that awaits us after this lifetime of winters and springs, hardships and vacations is behind us. Bring on the day!<br /><br />And my Drewy will be there to greet me. He's already there. Basking in the warmth and light of the full glory of Jesus. Save me a lounge chair little buddy...I'm coming some day 😊</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFt0SKnbwXqonVabsCcs18yhkUnjvGbbrjS7sn7DJuDKqlZFvKaWcC21K3pB3xzE705DF2YEpYZ-C6Zh0-P4SUA5NZ7jyHtg7Qsawpdr93l505Nagu6AVTGnvoFOwbc6DyhAGH_eP-Nw/s960/summer+2016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFt0SKnbwXqonVabsCcs18yhkUnjvGbbrjS7sn7DJuDKqlZFvKaWcC21K3pB3xzE705DF2YEpYZ-C6Zh0-P4SUA5NZ7jyHtg7Qsawpdr93l505Nagu6AVTGnvoFOwbc6DyhAGH_eP-Nw/s320/summer+2016.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-78561409823110498662021-01-18T15:49:00.013-06:002021-01-18T15:56:25.452-06:00Not Forgotten<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUZmuOLoBHH55sthzEJDSf_kA-Jm3FWXxExSbp0ePLL9ToVLboJq8rhcYWsuQ-bKWd8-0nA9fREQLO8Ip2kn1mb-Eb7wYzXMPxc2KQjNNCBws9sg-jbeWofeoS-RE4yVpYrMCY7KnfLQ/s2048/IMG_8434.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUZmuOLoBHH55sthzEJDSf_kA-Jm3FWXxExSbp0ePLL9ToVLboJq8rhcYWsuQ-bKWd8-0nA9fREQLO8Ip2kn1mb-Eb7wYzXMPxc2KQjNNCBws9sg-jbeWofeoS-RE4yVpYrMCY7KnfLQ/s320/IMG_8434.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><p>January 19th, 2017. The day my Drew, died. </p><p>In the last four years, some of the details of that day have faded. I couldn't tell you the exact time things happened, but I will never forget the moment when his hand in mine, stopped feeling alive. I don't know exactly what the stats were on his vitals machine, but I can describe to you how slowly they were dropping that morning, before they quickly fell to nothing around noon. What his exact last words were the day before I'm not sure, but I will never forget the things he was seeing and telling me about that day. I'm not totally sure what I said to him last, but I know the last song I sang to him, one I'd sang so many times before as he went to sleep, but this time, he wasn't ever going to wake up.</p><p>One of the things bereaved parents fear the most is that their child will be forgotten. Not only by others, but by ourselves. </p><p>In the first few weeks and months you remember your loved one so clearly, they could be right in front of you, or wrapped in your arms, but they aren't, and never will be again. It is agonizing. </p><p>Then as time passes, the sharp memories that haunted you begin to dull. And seemingly all of sudden, you can't remember as clearly as you once did. And it fills you with panic, guilt, and shame that you haven't managed to hold on to every detail of your loved one. See, when someone close to you dies, you promise yourself you'll never forget. You try to memorize everything you can and lock it away, keep them safe in your heart. And for a time, it works. Your heart and your head work together to preserve every detail. </p><p>At some point though, a shift comes. Your mind can't keep all the details straight. Reason begins to take over, and you know it's impossible to keep your person perfectly preserved and you begin to wonder if you even should. You feel yourself moving forward, and its a good feeling, actually. You understand that your person isn't stuck in the fading memories, but has moved forward as well. But, as always, the heart lags behind. And feels betrayed by the letting go, and shatters all over again...</p><p>This seems to be where I'm at, four years later. </p><p>It kills me that I don't remember every scar on my own son's precious little body. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQjVpVaxUSFWQmqeQZUYpY0molxWyWi5BLv1uhCbfkiWcakYxWoZnOKIK-KNkQxKfl_Ylq1X1mJZ2UChnTDs-rdNP1kL-GqT5W85yipkIDEjxgDwN1ESJ1YBG3fzMG81bjipIdtxSiIg/s2016/Drew%2527s+body.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQjVpVaxUSFWQmqeQZUYpY0molxWyWi5BLv1uhCbfkiWcakYxWoZnOKIK-KNkQxKfl_Ylq1X1mJZ2UChnTDs-rdNP1kL-GqT5W85yipkIDEjxgDwN1ESJ1YBG3fzMG81bjipIdtxSiIg/s320/Drew%2527s+body.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">I feel awful that I can't recall how the different shades of blue blended together in his eyes, or how different they looked each day</span><span style="text-align: left;">.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">I wish I could close my eyes and see the shape of his little fingers and toes, which I sore I knew by heart.</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLaRGGc000nPumN9pD0mC2PEJBE7a4QcWfo2YHBiyRCPrNr3AHzIfTZKqx_Ln-fWTZx3A-Bz7WmqDzr_0bhVDdzDPvM3hcE4MHr7fzRvmgw42XXRjuz00otZD2IJfdnYOXZONqm563hQ/s1705/Drew%2527s+Hand.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1705" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLaRGGc000nPumN9pD0mC2PEJBE7a4QcWfo2YHBiyRCPrNr3AHzIfTZKqx_Ln-fWTZx3A-Bz7WmqDzr_0bhVDdzDPvM3hcE4MHr7fzRvmgw42XXRjuz00otZD2IJfdnYOXZONqm563hQ/s320/Drew%2527s+Hand.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p>I hate that I have to watch videos to hear his voice, because it's not in my head anymore. </p><p>I pick up his blanket and still try to smell him, not really knowing anymore what it's suppose to smell like. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtz2wclyfKPzcrAfWHoVniDbwJT3Z82iyK8sbdUMH-3WbyhTXkE3PRTyv5luN_98ZlyLwYxXPSjDuMpkZClnia0bNY6DAmp8X_DYecH1Fw0KuWeTJS0oigp8eCAyajFxyBnzOK9pKsSg/s800/sleeping.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtz2wclyfKPzcrAfWHoVniDbwJT3Z82iyK8sbdUMH-3WbyhTXkE3PRTyv5luN_98ZlyLwYxXPSjDuMpkZClnia0bNY6DAmp8X_DYecH1Fw0KuWeTJS0oigp8eCAyajFxyBnzOK9pKsSg/s320/sleeping.jpg" /></a></div><p>How have I forgotten the details of my own son? Only four years, that's all it takes to forget the particulars of my Drew? I should have tried harder to guard the memories. I should have taken more photos, had the molds made of his hands and feet, done all the things to document the details, my heart cries.</p><p>Oh baby boy, please believe me that I love you as much as I did four years ago, even if I can't remember every detail about you anymore. I'm sorry I haven't kept my promise of not forgetting a single aspect of you...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguSoNJD9rb795sb3eA8gD9t-etkL5wDg7dhwKBJ-Zs18_3HBXOkRYkVLs3RK01nsNsE97hGD3W9BgNcxWMictn0-lQ4DK1BvmPJneX2cnIkx5mRFQt6d3TVhFqE8eepaTMngxO4tWc_w/s720/19141440_10104371223430170_1168125271_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="641" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguSoNJD9rb795sb3eA8gD9t-etkL5wDg7dhwKBJ-Zs18_3HBXOkRYkVLs3RK01nsNsE97hGD3W9BgNcxWMictn0-lQ4DK1BvmPJneX2cnIkx5mRFQt6d3TVhFqE8eepaTMngxO4tWc_w/s320/19141440_10104371223430170_1168125271_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>As I sit here and weep about what I've forgotten, my head comforts my heart by reminding it of what I do remember, and that I know I'll never forget. No, I may not know just what shades of blue make up the color of his eyes. But the brightness, the sparkle in them, still lights up my mind and makes me smile. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis2kl0aRFvKDvDkacqXbWLKQwDQeROxwtcCcna7i16R8aFBKNSFXIRFJdfQ9AJSM35Thte0SYhCuvloA0EfMBY5hG_P7EYhCirESunNvsepk6ewtONgkOIs8jtPAh5ORqCnG2DtQ2Obg/s960/Drew%2527sbirthday.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis2kl0aRFvKDvDkacqXbWLKQwDQeROxwtcCcna7i16R8aFBKNSFXIRFJdfQ9AJSM35Thte0SYhCuvloA0EfMBY5hG_P7EYhCirESunNvsepk6ewtONgkOIs8jtPAh5ORqCnG2DtQ2Obg/s320/Drew%2527sbirthday.jpg" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6zs5g0y7Yzvk6LS8hQSKrPQpkoBSn-UckZzekupFpuGZ-gN6X2PjLwlcYNk-n_NJsoze1gDsUqjuEbQW_VtC9gHGhCc-KBqIJELtHzT-nyO3ZhbkROXdZIwr5pXNDOCkGPaKAat_DjA/s2048/IMG_8421.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6zs5g0y7Yzvk6LS8hQSKrPQpkoBSn-UckZzekupFpuGZ-gN6X2PjLwlcYNk-n_NJsoze1gDsUqjuEbQW_VtC9gHGhCc-KBqIJELtHzT-nyO3ZhbkROXdZIwr5pXNDOCkGPaKAat_DjA/s320/IMG_8421.jpg" /></a></div></div><p>Where the scars are on his precious body and the shape of his fingers and toes doesn't matter anymore, he's done with that body! He's got a new one that is sewn in glory, totally healed, and clothed in righteousness. I can't wait to see it. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq2NQ2SK3PtCa__lea1b8G33hpzXBKps9kOMFVpywnojaFKAGaTAp4uo5xdXSOteCQfBnMHvoc83exMGEk7Mi6spe41oOqhE9uGL974kIQDs_cBP3FcvHU4ucMnKwWc8al5zbp14R60w/s720/apartofme.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="644" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq2NQ2SK3PtCa__lea1b8G33hpzXBKps9kOMFVpywnojaFKAGaTAp4uo5xdXSOteCQfBnMHvoc83exMGEk7Mi6spe41oOqhE9uGL974kIQDs_cBP3FcvHU4ucMnKwWc8al5zbp14R60w/s320/apartofme.jpg" /></a></div><p>His voice, how he spoke when he was alive, isn't of consequence anymore, because I have come to know how he speaks to me now. I can recognize his presence, the feeling I'm filled with when I know he's with us. And it is so loving and comforting.</p><p>And even if I don't know exactly what I'm smelling for when I bring all the things that were once his to my nose, I have faith that when I find it again, I'll know it immediately. Even if its not until he's right in front of me, I know that it'll be as familiar as it was on this day, four years ago.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiPKKxxQeuWWuI_AeoixICKE1b3rVp2wagH6rAT0-fH5ovV5ziaocl6xbzRdm_3jDzad7WH65SSZpfVh-5BoFM74mscPUW7KIbLOyW8wMhSApTd8_M4sfE78Nu7p1Fojrtspeb-V8bTw/s2048/IMG_8471.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiPKKxxQeuWWuI_AeoixICKE1b3rVp2wagH6rAT0-fH5ovV5ziaocl6xbzRdm_3jDzad7WH65SSZpfVh-5BoFM74mscPUW7KIbLOyW8wMhSApTd8_M4sfE78Nu7p1Fojrtspeb-V8bTw/s320/IMG_8471.jpg" /></a></div><p>Just like my memory of January 19th, 2017, I'm not completely sure of the details, but I remember what's important about my Drew. I know that its impossible to forget him because he is a part of me, and always will be. </p><p>And if I think about it, I know I don't have to be afraid that others are forgetting him either, because he is a part of all of them, too, in small and big ways. He is known by people still, even though he's not here anymore. People were changed by what happened to him, to our family.</p><p>Yes, four years have passed since my Drew has. More time than he was alive. There may still be some nurses that cared for Drew at St Mary's, in Rochester, Minnesota, but fewer and fewer each year. Several of the oncology department staff have changed, along with support staff, the surgery team, anesthesiology, ect. There may be more who know <i>of</i> Drew than actually knew Drew. But because they see the little red wagons, given out in his name, they understand a little about this one short life that is continuing to bring joy to others.</p><p>Of our friends, there are still many close to us that actually did spend time with Drew, and remember our family when we had four living members. But with time and with each move, we've made new friends that are only familiar with his pictures. They know how I've described him, but never had the pleasure of being charmed by him. Yet, I hope they feel our family's enthusiasm for life, our compassion for others, and get a sense of what our son Drew was like.</p><p>Those who have received a Warrior Wagon in the last four years, who find themselves in the position that we found ourselves in 2016, may read the letter included in their wagon and see our family's picture. They learn of our own journey, and even though they weren't one of the families going through treatment with us that year, we pray they gain encouragement and hope from Drew's strength and resilience. </p><p>And I hope that for those of you who have followed our story, read along here with me as we've made our way forward following his death, have acquired a new perspective, drawn from the example of our Drew some lessons about how to really <i>live</i> your life, despite your circumstances, as I have. </p><p>As time continues to march on, I know that this will be how it goes. That the details in the memories will fade, but the important things will not. That fewer people will have known him, but instead know about him. But it is in what he left behind, in his legacy, that he will still be a part of our lives and others', not to ever be forgotten. We'll continue to see the ripples from his life, the impact of Drew Becker on this world, if we are looking for it. He's still very much in the present with us, even though his life is in the past. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMEmDGEukENgf4E4fnW7HfhmEYdyfHnwYFUjSJu60WPKH8mr9qwjj9z8jo3WL5HSQol6i-893zwvef10p0U0KTGdyT9pcLHL-zuJ4Ng9kBnB9jo0W_rB8dIpIFXuy588ehL5aACM96pA/s2000/Beckers.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1343" data-original-width="2000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMEmDGEukENgf4E4fnW7HfhmEYdyfHnwYFUjSJu60WPKH8mr9qwjj9z8jo3WL5HSQol6i-893zwvef10p0U0KTGdyT9pcLHL-zuJ4Ng9kBnB9jo0W_rB8dIpIFXuy588ehL5aACM96pA/s320/Beckers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>I've been thinking a lot about legacy lately--what we leave behind after our life to others. The longer I live, the more I see how very much we all are connected. How our words, actions, and the manner in which we live our lives have an affect on and change things for others. Our life matters, and what we do with it is important. We all have the opportunity to have a positive impact, to leave a legacy that is a blessing to others. I now know how simple it really is, because I watched a little boy, who wasn't even trying, live a life that continues to change others' lives--long after he's been gone.</p><p>In the last year, my family grew with the edition of my brother and his wife's first child. A new grandson, my first nephew. When I finally got to meet him, it was such a special moment. I'd heard so much about him, we'd waited anxiously for his arrival, and here he was. The smile he gave me when we first met just melted my heart! Molly was very excited to meet "Brian's Baby" too, her only first cousin!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxmEj78AzR3XNTWZ-Jij0oDZAUZD4MqnphbVO92LqW6rhk_4EhJPtXEwy2zTlLUFACI8vJZ8vR3WL9N0nOyIGHcqW5bfsVhbz2woDr8v8QYEOrjsnwBOd9SNlrtBniOOjlApqLwDataw/s2048/Jameson.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxmEj78AzR3XNTWZ-Jij0oDZAUZD4MqnphbVO92LqW6rhk_4EhJPtXEwy2zTlLUFACI8vJZ8vR3WL9N0nOyIGHcqW5bfsVhbz2woDr8v8QYEOrjsnwBOd9SNlrtBniOOjlApqLwDataw/s320/Jameson.jpg" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMG8TVQtEOMaBYfNDXmP-CtK9x_NmUJpcSz_AoQLZnCSZNsL9WME37OZZu9pIwlX0d3NIBHn7F5TbFPdKHl-LcEhMEmpdwiWShV11GzfAqQCMEtvA8Op23PY3TZACxSFFEC3MzJkTgTg/s2016/Jameson5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMG8TVQtEOMaBYfNDXmP-CtK9x_NmUJpcSz_AoQLZnCSZNsL9WME37OZZu9pIwlX0d3NIBHn7F5TbFPdKHl-LcEhMEmpdwiWShV11GzfAqQCMEtvA8Op23PY3TZACxSFFEC3MzJkTgTg/s320/Jameson5.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>His name, Jameson Drew. </p><p>They told us over the summer their plan for his name, and asked for our blessing. Jameson being a variation of the family name James (my dad's name) with Drew for his middle name. We of course said yes, and were very touched they wanted to have Drew be a part of their son's name. </p><p>This Christmas, I made ornaments for my mom and dad. Their tree already has ornaments with mine and my sibilngs' name on them, as well as Josh's. But we needed to catch up with the next generation and the latest in-law! <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_BmjaoONHvhdMQDd3TUrgxyiX8fE1tBfGxg8XFLDr4kwawfRKmE54cSL0kXTaAlawklq6v_vuO66rkqKjBkOVRDHkgwXUd3ODAojeElHelghPQGgQn7BGu47V4H8f2y48thb66SGpeg/s2016/139260579_324815958754306_6883710181561826940_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_BmjaoONHvhdMQDd3TUrgxyiX8fE1tBfGxg8XFLDr4kwawfRKmE54cSL0kXTaAlawklq6v_vuO66rkqKjBkOVRDHkgwXUd3ODAojeElHelghPQGgQn7BGu47V4H8f2y48thb66SGpeg/s320/139260579_324815958754306_6883710181561826940_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Once I got the letters placed for the names, the similarity between my late son's name and my new nephew's was striking. I knew how close the names were to each other, but seeing them spelled out beside each other took my breath away.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZiqHmmMBSzrJO-PJGoCltltJZC3Gsii0C6Fv3gSaCTDao1W601oEKr5hz9orCz1rIEz0-iSHGPYTMclCJl_tPUZ1KDUv7mjHCX6bgDI7J2WCpX7Svu4srOVJJvIh5ZFPngdPai427Rg/s2016/137095713_1136478116803414_7100415602710720305_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZiqHmmMBSzrJO-PJGoCltltJZC3Gsii0C6Fv3gSaCTDao1W601oEKr5hz9orCz1rIEz0-iSHGPYTMclCJl_tPUZ1KDUv7mjHCX6bgDI7J2WCpX7Svu4srOVJJvIh5ZFPngdPai427Rg/s320/137095713_1136478116803414_7100415602710720305_n.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p>Drew James, Jameson Drew. Different enough that he is very much his own person--which is important. But the name of the cousin he'll never meet this side of Heaven will be with him all of his life. Which means a lot, to this still grieving mother's heart that is worried he's being forgotten.</p><p>As I looked upon the face of this sweet new baby, yet unharmed by this world, innocent and fresh, my heart felt a lot of things. The best of which being hope. Hope for a new life, another Grove in this world. Life is so very precious, and I sat in awe of the miracle it is. What a gift God gave my brother and his wife, our family, with this little baby. </p><p>Who will you turn into little one, what will be <i>your</i> legacy sweet boy??</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtCC0Fgc-d_QJma-KNXPftjsAQmIRdv1aHQRyj-LXX-GdOBri9JCcu1vK5ty3Zc6SY9KxAZ1n4eyKrGSOZCjoso03aHBE71K8-Qxx-7CgvJTzE6STyvaE7BQvYIeDrmXgQQl-xSJHyjw/s2016/Jameson4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtCC0Fgc-d_QJma-KNXPftjsAQmIRdv1aHQRyj-LXX-GdOBri9JCcu1vK5ty3Zc6SY9KxAZ1n4eyKrGSOZCjoso03aHBE71K8-Qxx-7CgvJTzE6STyvaE7BQvYIeDrmXgQQl-xSJHyjw/s320/Jameson4.jpg" /></a></div><p>Obviously my heart was also sad. Sad for my own baby I'll not get to hold again. Sad for the adventures this little boy and mine could have had. The holiday kid tables they'll never sit at together, the photos of summer time visits that will be one cousin short... </p><p>I've learned in the last four years that I can be both. Both filled with hope <i>and</i> sadness, without either canceling the other out. Hopeful, and also a bit sad.</p><p>I remind myself that, just as Drew's life was never meant to be any longer than it was, Jameson was never meant to know his cousin here on earth. God, in his perfect plan, never had their lives overlapping. They weren't suppose to share those moments, be in the same realm...yet. </p><p>He'll no doubt hear stories about Drew. See his picture. He'll be another one that knows <i>of</i> Drew, and what happened to him, but never meet him. Yet, God will use Drew and what happened to him to make Jameson just who he intended him to be. Drew's life will impact his cousin I know, and that is how they will be connected, through more than a name. He'll benefit from the legacy Drew left behind for him, just like all the rest of us touched by his life.</p><p><br /></p><p>Maybe we all could spend some time thinking about our legacy. Some great tragedy didn't have to happen to you, or some grand achieved reached-- each day of your life influences, and impacts, those around you. For the better or for worse. Which will it be?</p><p>This year, our connections with the world were very apparent. Contact tracing can be a nightmare for the really involved person. What if we could contact trace our legacy? See the ways we've changed others by our life? I believe some day we will. And that my Drew already us been shown his great impact on this world. And I can't explain it, but I can just feel in my heart that with that knowledge, Drew would do it all again. He would endure each round of chemo and the week of being sick after, each painful procedure, each uncomfortable scan, for the good that it has brought into the world. And that makes me so proud.</p><p><br /> Yes, by the end of this my head has convinced my heart that even without every detail memorized, he certainly is not forgotten by anyone. We are connected with him, and he with us in many ways (some we may not even be aware of). His life impacted many, and still does today. In our family, in our family of friends, and in our community. His legacy continues to gift joy, wisdom, and peace to those who are a part of it. </p><p>We miss you Drewy Clause. Happy Glory Day. We think of you often, our hearts and minds know that you are with us. You are with us in our memories, in our work, in our attitude, in our adventures, and in our joy. Our hearts ache to see you again, to hold you and never let go. In one year less time, that's just what we'll do 💗</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj048JafvS6eS6N0Smx9cRREvXnsOZoCuvmBn_p3cA0Fy0b1CvqBIXt9lxzg1hi48WnLnvcee6VX5fygllpnjXPRREoxTeKVWR7lctF1QSUjxzX6rB3hiA3PoUyLTtbkMy3vPcYHfKY3A/s960/All+Together.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj048JafvS6eS6N0Smx9cRREvXnsOZoCuvmBn_p3cA0Fy0b1CvqBIXt9lxzg1hi48WnLnvcee6VX5fygllpnjXPRREoxTeKVWR7lctF1QSUjxzX6rB3hiA3PoUyLTtbkMy3vPcYHfKY3A/s320/All+Together.jpg" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-61608550387029965922021-01-07T16:25:00.000-06:002021-01-07T16:25:44.971-06:00Cleaning out Closets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpZk2v9HZELJjgNiq2E8mC7Px-6Oo6nKEFY-sUrL-82SeXQiO5_FNjuCnwZ04m6sIfEvZ8QdBE3ODMzLe40b775U4RYslT-LhB0P3p4MnKKSC4mk1X60Mag_dGePCnLvdNZU9orAJAZg/s1840/135836952_489495398699988_329016310339242531_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1380" data-original-width="1840" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpZk2v9HZELJjgNiq2E8mC7Px-6Oo6nKEFY-sUrL-82SeXQiO5_FNjuCnwZ04m6sIfEvZ8QdBE3ODMzLe40b775U4RYslT-LhB0P3p4MnKKSC4mk1X60Mag_dGePCnLvdNZU9orAJAZg/s320/135836952_489495398699988_329016310339242531_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>And just like that, 2020 is over! We're starting a new year, having a fresh beginning. Or are we?</p><p>Our family had a nice last day of 2020. Like much of the year, we weren't able to do some of things we've done in the past to ring in the new year--attend a party, go out to eat, ect. But we made the best of it. We went coat shopping actually, and picked up take out for supper on the way home. We watched the coverage of Times Square, but it wasn't the same this year either. Empty streets, no excited vibe. </p><p>In fact, the vibe was very negative, depressing. It seemed that story after story from the year was all bad, tragic and awful. Images of pandemic, celebrity deaths, destructive storms, forest on fire as well as cities from riots. From the content to the tone of the announcers, it was hard to watch without catching the contagious "worst year ever" attitude. Were there no good things that happened?</p><p>In conversations online and in person, there seems to be so much hope for 2021 to be better. But not in a traditional, faithful way--more in a "this world owes me after last year" way. The statements and posts of many people seem to suggest that they are somehow due for a good year after what they've endured. That hardship and suffering isn't how life is suppose to go, and they were wronged.</p><p>I've offered a different prospect this year. That the opposite is actually true according to the Bible--this world will always give us hardship and struggle. We are foolish to expect an easy life. But we can choose to make the most of what we do have. See the positive, and help others. We can decide not to be a victim but an overcomer. </p><p>Is a challenging year always a bad year? When things are hard, does that mean there is something wrong, someone to blame? Should we count a whole year of our lives as a loss if we can't immediately see positive results? </p><p><br /></p><p>This fall after trying to store more things into the guest room closet without success, I decided there was no time like the present to finally go through the bins of boy clothes that were taking up so much space. </p><p>I knew how many were filled with clothes Drew either wore or I intended for him to. Five totes of articles of clothing from sizes 24mo to 4T. The movers have brought them with us from Austin to Chicago, and then from Chicago out to Colorado. I haven't made myself go through them since I emptied his drawers and packed them away, after he wouldn't be needing them any more...</p><p> I knew it would be painful. His favorite shirts, my favorite shirts (which weren't always the same), shoes, little boy jammies, barely used swim suits, and a whole new size of clothes he never grew into. I've been putting it off, storing it away. Trying to avoid the pain.</p><p>But being stuck at home during a pandemic and staring at the stuff I'd like to be storing in that closet instead of stacked against a wall, gave me the motivation to just do it. Bring out the bins, open them up, sort the clothes and let many of them go. It was time.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1GDHe7aeCKocx4t0f8bH9jqtnVaUG51o96yte82KJkV_4se5isH7aKkbzcqaObmPivEJ37tWhTzSYYYPCWOfbJ-1egI_oS5TUVuUDAShMpzytnFWQZhQ9doGhWJpFhwbfTUeKwYuV8w/s2016/136083978_690099684987972_9129805964137738748_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1GDHe7aeCKocx4t0f8bH9jqtnVaUG51o96yte82KJkV_4se5isH7aKkbzcqaObmPivEJ37tWhTzSYYYPCWOfbJ-1egI_oS5TUVuUDAShMpzytnFWQZhQ9doGhWJpFhwbfTUeKwYuV8w/s320/136083978_690099684987972_9129805964137738748_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>It hurt as much as I thought it would. The "Most Awesome Little Brother" shirt 💔 A physical reminder that we do have a little brother in this family. That Molly is as much a big sister as every oldest daughter she meets.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYiwzTrXhNu9k5C9LRVQX6rtVfxU-HaAcUg-IZfdE3e9MUyiMqaCwDyA7nP_duzwfh46n4dq1i8zk32aShITz5YSpbC6W2GkKHyPby_uHEq5q7pOGz8xe4II1vWYDmV3IcQZ5ISiRDrg/s1952/135015642_413890856612845_6223639769210562807_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1952" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYiwzTrXhNu9k5C9LRVQX6rtVfxU-HaAcUg-IZfdE3e9MUyiMqaCwDyA7nP_duzwfh46n4dq1i8zk32aShITz5YSpbC6W2GkKHyPby_uHEq5q7pOGz8xe4II1vWYDmV3IcQZ5ISiRDrg/s320/135015642_413890856612845_6223639769210562807_n.jpg" /></a></div><p>And some unexpected blows--his coat that I evidently hadn't washed before putting away, and the drool (probably sicky) still on the front. Something from my son, even if it wasn't pleasant. And a T-shirt with paint stains on it--what were you painting my sweet boy? I never thought soiled and dirty clothes would be such a treasure.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_0aPZHAeVASBOldAQY7UUlV_1iGepXwCFk-k_vwpvOPwuvU3PGxCi301HuhgLpNIGMY78d7xvLF8F6CT7G1MY1apY_4sJehcIvwniMfaf-4y0C9EJMmz4gCIAJM-D8m0c1VURIlocA/s2016/135619831_2944594782435547_5496455067582990476_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_0aPZHAeVASBOldAQY7UUlV_1iGepXwCFk-k_vwpvOPwuvU3PGxCi301HuhgLpNIGMY78d7xvLF8F6CT7G1MY1apY_4sJehcIvwniMfaf-4y0C9EJMmz4gCIAJM-D8m0c1VURIlocA/s320/135619831_2944594782435547_5496455067582990476_n.jpg" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGfrYsevgqOdg0EaxuQSIPq1k9aUy-9Egy0KqSZxhUiKo9YccXl3iPxYr9uBbiD1GqCQXlR2xN7g1fv1BY1uN4xjjhRCVe7-QiEgoC8R7YlnUDLX4xyxcsXjGUMJesRba33jZxJj5FLA/s2016/134738709_1611897095647334_4947310043732499050_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGfrYsevgqOdg0EaxuQSIPq1k9aUy-9Egy0KqSZxhUiKo9YccXl3iPxYr9uBbiD1GqCQXlR2xN7g1fv1BY1uN4xjjhRCVe7-QiEgoC8R7YlnUDLX4xyxcsXjGUMJesRba33jZxJj5FLA/s320/134738709_1611897095647334_4947310043732499050_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p> I sat for three days in the guest room, sorting, crying, and taking photos to sell the stuff I knew I didn't need to hold on to. I went from 5 bins to not a full 3 between all the sets that were sold, junk thrown out, and the rest donated.</p></div><p>It felt good to let it go. And even though it hurt, the stained clothes and familiar shirts brought him back to life if only for a moment...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju_SW-GFjMa6vz36nr9RcePSflJcevcGcjG51UTUNmycKRX0TwNdpQhwgccm7LKIKShqs3xGw4hDWtGxgb0VJmgSsnvPZuViBfnM2gecQ6KWxQ14kL1wHAOikGP8MYi0c_q3eMSqY3xg/s830/134514060_339384193713774_8322439800416990891_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="830" data-original-width="418" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju_SW-GFjMa6vz36nr9RcePSflJcevcGcjG51UTUNmycKRX0TwNdpQhwgccm7LKIKShqs3xGw4hDWtGxgb0VJmgSsnvPZuViBfnM2gecQ6KWxQ14kL1wHAOikGP8MYi0c_q3eMSqY3xg/s320/134514060_339384193713774_8322439800416990891_n.jpg" /></a></div><p>It was empowering too--those bins of clothes couldn't taunt me anymore. "Don't dare open me up, you can't handle it!" Well I did, and I could. I got the space back in the closet, and the room it opened up was so freeing!</p><p><br /></p><p>Didn't a lot of us have the opportunity to have this same experience in 2020? Circumstances kept us home and we finally had had enough, found the motivation, to clean out some of the closets in our lives. Maybe, like me, you had grief from a loss to process. Or a strained relationship that needed attention. Bad habits that were on full display with our people around 24/7, which needed to be kicked. Possibly a secret that could no longer be kept without the usual distractions and crutches. </p><p>If we were brave enough, 2020 was just the year to sit on the floor and sort it all out with a Kleenex box beside us. To let the memories, regrets, anger and resentment out of the closet and deal with them. It isn't easy, it hurts, but if we persist, healing, peace, and empowerment wait for us after we're through. And then you have room for whatever you want in your closet, things that will fill us with joy instead of pain and resentment, in the new year. Some of us did just this, and we are better for it than we were a year ago. Which really is the goal, right?</p><p>No, a challenging year <i>isn't </i>necessarily a bad year. When things are hard, it <i>doesn't</i> always mean that there is something wrong. Not seeing immediately positive results, <i>shouldn't</i> be a reason to count a year as a total loss. If we can grow, heal, and change for the better, it was a good year indeed. The world doesn't owe us a better year, we have to stand up and make it a better year. Going through your closet, working on making yourself and your life better--that's what will really make 2021 better than 2020.</p><p>I hope not to minimize the truly difficult year many had. I don't want to gloss over the loved ones who died from COVID, the businesses that were forced to close, the big life events put on hold or canceled, and the loneliness and isolation too many suffered. Believe me, I know how it feels to have your whole world stop while everyone else's seems to keeps going. Its unfair, frustrating, and worth grieving over.</p><p>Even in those times though, we have a choice. And it serves us best to not let our circumstances get the best of us. We'll end up the winner after all if we don't give up our power to things we can't control. </p><p>But we know that if nothing changes, nothing changes. A negative attitude like what was all over TV last week to ring in the new year, will only bring more of the same in 2021, and unfortunately it looks like it already has. This first week of 2021 shows that many have not learned much from 2020. That closets are still full of anger, pain, and aggression. We still are looking for others to blame, or someone else to take out our frustrations on. </p><p>I hope that changes. I hope and pray that this isn't how 2021 will go too. For our country, for our families, for the world. But it's up to us. Each of us, in our own homes and hearts.</p><p>There were some positive things that happened in 2020. There were beautiful sunrises and sunsets. New life joined many families. Intimate, loving memories were made while we were all stuck at home. New opportunities came up, and adventures were taken. Miracles of healing occurred as science and God's mercy worked together to treat sick patients. Scientists produced a vaccine, in record time, to eventually bring an end this pandemic. And all of us came one year closer to the day that all will be made right when the Lord returns, there will be no more sickness, true justice will prevail, and we'll be reunited with our loved ones forever 💕</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7g65CN9J6e-D5MuIkkGn0Ux8KmSP-EB_LWOfwb_vNQy7FhsW8XHQ7bfivYdKoGL29jjZaU56PQyyGwl3EROOng1ll4aY_ub-zB6Pux8KJY8icAANxQAcNn60wj-muZBag-oud9l1_9Q/s1838/135230879_436497324150375_7668975526871034935_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1838" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7g65CN9J6e-D5MuIkkGn0Ux8KmSP-EB_LWOfwb_vNQy7FhsW8XHQ7bfivYdKoGL29jjZaU56PQyyGwl3EROOng1ll4aY_ub-zB6Pux8KJY8icAANxQAcNn60wj-muZBag-oud9l1_9Q/s320/135230879_436497324150375_7668975526871034935_n.jpg" /></a></div><p><br /></p>Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-2179577723596655272020-11-13T17:06:00.001-06:002020-11-13T17:36:38.070-06:00Election Night<p> I thought I had gotten through all of the "firsts" without Drew. But four years later, another first came up this month--the first Presidential election night. Now you wouldn't think that would be too significant of a first, that it would trigger a huge wave of emotion. But the last time we all held our breath in America and watched the results come in deciding who would be our next President, it was one of the worst nights of my life. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhELil8AcaIFNjMsGfQEp6m3eR-IvfANC0a3CSuHVWsJppfLQBWZ-te5-ABGXNT7GtNu6AVB7O70DmGdHfETEODVS_ZEEuR6VsqH_-ebPfQGTLRoHz6whQvxTvbdxOj26KrJ4EY8CyT0w/s1830/125356986_496277711270522_7759795535594623981_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1830" data-original-width="1372" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhELil8AcaIFNjMsGfQEp6m3eR-IvfANC0a3CSuHVWsJppfLQBWZ-te5-ABGXNT7GtNu6AVB7O70DmGdHfETEODVS_ZEEuR6VsqH_-ebPfQGTLRoHz6whQvxTvbdxOj26KrJ4EY8CyT0w/s320/125356986_496277711270522_7759795535594623981_n.jpg" /></a></div><p>Drew was beginning the first round of the clinical trial we decided to be a part of through Mayo Clinic after his cancer was found to be active and growing again. A little more than a week had past since we were told the devastating news that Drew "probably" wouldn't be a long term survivor. I shared about those feelings last month, and how it put such a dark cloud over Halloween that year. But a little over a week later, we had pulled ourselves together enough to keep marching forward, keep fighting with and for our Drew. </p><p>This trial had about a 50% chance of slowing the cancer down, of making a difference at all in the progression of the disease. No one had gotten far enough with the trial to be declared free of disease long enough for it to be counted as a successful treatment, but it was our best shot at buying more time. And my heart held onto hope that maybe, just maybe, Drew could be the first to reach "No Evidence of Disease" from the therapy. Maybe he could be the one it worked on.</p><p>We checked in to the hospital on Monday, and got all the usual things going. I was excited to see a friend I had made at the hospital was also on the floor this week too, with her son who had a form of brain cancer. They were just 2 doors down.</p><p>We had visitors the next morning, Election Day--Drew's best friend Andrew and his Mom. It was so fun to see him with his friend--playing with cars, and riding big wheels around. And it was nice to have his mom there too, my friend who had gone through the year right along with us. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgINkaFSTtBEbCG0-0lp6tij_A7gdhSmCW-S4vDdhvCfdfUDlMuhjNtT4nFXrpKpGl8a6sbbvOTZSOLsqH5vIEQAlGZddeHCfOMk7vMb2rZ3wU4I3vB0MD4BRbb9f4Gj4jWxEO8XdJ3jw/s2016/125156703_2264499977027405_1479580499217205909_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgINkaFSTtBEbCG0-0lp6tij_A7gdhSmCW-S4vDdhvCfdfUDlMuhjNtT4nFXrpKpGl8a6sbbvOTZSOLsqH5vIEQAlGZddeHCfOMk7vMb2rZ3wU4I3vB0MD4BRbb9f4Gj4jWxEO8XdJ3jw/s320/125156703_2264499977027405_1479580499217205909_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpzDhohWLuZ84ALU6dLl5pQ3VktlRlTN7QVj3Rn_kNkM8AoeCCj93E-mcFMhYfYyBeOHix4k8w5BgLEMgxJ1qAM74FjVMMV8QlInnbeDOlLkGd-3lNj29DZiMv73hOW-XYuCgFx1UKmg/s1914/125313141_379825686590690_837416272680886776_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1914" data-original-width="1806" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpzDhohWLuZ84ALU6dLl5pQ3VktlRlTN7QVj3Rn_kNkM8AoeCCj93E-mcFMhYfYyBeOHix4k8w5BgLEMgxJ1qAM74FjVMMV8QlInnbeDOlLkGd-3lNj29DZiMv73hOW-XYuCgFx1UKmg/s320/125313141_379825686590690_837416272680886776_n.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p>With the new realization that these play dates may be numbered, I watched Drew play and enjoy simply being a little boy with his friend with even more interest. My heart wishing, <i>Oh sweet boy, I hope you get to play with your friend many more times, outside of the hospital! </i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqiQRoAUgv87-ckAJ2oqQ3AM9BJ00CM3CydtNoh-oG7sEWi3sHUIbU_GATyJ4dLQDG2AiE5v2W2q2bJt2UEmbBnfYzZJQqEZgAxJWHtQjtjMZWM31n4snxEtyABV5qhgXuzcLn5Iid5A/s1833/125076500_667729903941882_2024810429139478813_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1833" data-original-width="1584" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqiQRoAUgv87-ckAJ2oqQ3AM9BJ00CM3CydtNoh-oG7sEWi3sHUIbU_GATyJ4dLQDG2AiE5v2W2q2bJt2UEmbBnfYzZJQqEZgAxJWHtQjtjMZWM31n4snxEtyABV5qhgXuzcLn5Iid5A/s320/125076500_667729903941882_2024810429139478813_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>That evening, it was time to get to what we came for--treatment. First up was the infusion of the antibodies, and chemo would follow. I'd heard that the body can have big reactions to the introduction of the antibody cells, and terrible nerve pain can follow. So much so, that they give narcotics right along with the antibodies to keep up with the pain. Nurses told me that older kids who can express themselves better describe the pain as a full body pain, like nothing you've experienced before. </p><p>I was nervous for my sweet 2 year old son, to say the least. But as the infusion began, he showed no sign of pain. In fact, was dancing on his bed! </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgs42x9gizPjZKpoNiu_1vePXiPOqUCg7cI6PhtRRp4wvZZYgvpEJiviSFTPh8_yLhDCrHYqakO5r_uGhUKQieg_xjeZ-eKACKzcgM-c1NI5ikpjzQav89c1s2faYfUQGbnyE4VxrgRw/s2016/125157895_409605593531999_9157186088810208466_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgs42x9gizPjZKpoNiu_1vePXiPOqUCg7cI6PhtRRp4wvZZYgvpEJiviSFTPh8_yLhDCrHYqakO5r_uGhUKQieg_xjeZ-eKACKzcgM-c1NI5ikpjzQav89c1s2faYfUQGbnyE4VxrgRw/s320/125157895_409605593531999_9157186088810208466_n.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p>We did his bath, and began getting ready for bed when the pain caught up to him. He started by telling me he was hot. "Hot, hot Mom, HOT!" as he came over to my arms...it quickly escalated to him being just beside himself in pain. Crying, harder than he had all year, as I held him, rocked him, and sang in his ear trying to calm him down, with tears streamed down my face too. Nurses came and I asked for more pain drugs. We slowed down the rate of flow for the antibodies. We tried everything to give him some relief. But with each increase in narcotics, no relief seemed to come. Finally they nurse said we couldn't give him anything more, we had to wait for it to catch up. </p><p>Sitting with him in my arms, crying in pain, I pleaded with God, please, please make it stop. Have mercy on my boy, and don't let him hurt anymore. </p><p>It must be so difficult for the Lord to hear those kinds of prayers, the pleading of a mother to take on the pain for one of her children.</p><p>It made the whole thing worse to remember that night as I held him, that throughout the whole year of treatment Drew had endured so much in such brave form, hardly complaining at all. Why, why did this sweet child have to do anything else? And what was the point. If it wasn't going to work anyway, why were we putting him through all of this... </p><p>The drugs finally caught up, and I could feel him go limp in my arms, falling asleep after about an hour and a half of intense pain. I remember finally standing up out of his bed and feeling the tension in my own muscles, the stiffness from the adrenaline in my own body from the whole ordeal. </p><p>I walked down the hall to my friend, who had made popcorn on the stovetop in the kitchenette and was watching the election results. There's a connection that forms between moms up in the ICU. We are the few that can relate to one another, and truly understand what we go through with our children. </p><p>As I stood in her doorway, I think she could tell that whatever was going on, whatever had just happened, wasn't good. I remember standing there and not even being able to go into just how terrible the last 2 hours had been for us. I tried to hold it together, not break down right there on the spot. But she knew, I could feel it. She offered me some of her popcorn. And it was the best popcorn I've ever had.</p><p>My attention turned to the news coverage, and I was amazed to see that the candidate we both voted for was actually doing well. He wasn't suppose to win, I didn't have a real expectation that he would. But as the night went on, it got more and more apparent that he was very much in the race. I kept returning to my friend's room as Drew was still zonked out, and we celebrated each state getting called for our candidate until finally, the winner was declared. That night, it was just what I needed, an unexpected win. A reason to get excited and be pleasantly surprised. Both of us did!</p><p>I reached out to another cancer mom the next day who I knew who had been through the same infusions with her daughter. The first day was the worst, she told me, but it gets better. You figure out a balance between the rate of antibodies going in and rate of pain drugs along with it. That gave me some comfort.</p><p>I asked the doctors on rounds more questions about the trial itself, and got reassurance that we wouldn't be doing this if there wasn't a real shot at helping Drew. At giving us more time together. That made me feel better too. </p><p>The next night's infusion was not like that first night at all. Thank heaven! We made our way through the first round of the trial, one day at at time.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9DcfN0y1jqcsVBsCzm5BYGd7vYtLdahGwTGoaTvoyhUdUg_Pitd3VsF2YQCuECxxYa0zkq3FcX6KEzZX9TNYI0VBp35-TcaPpXtH67eytYFnuTLywgDsMlCCDTxXMSWZqkCHtShqdYA/s2016/125389900_2830848053793221_3023359946174041857_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9DcfN0y1jqcsVBsCzm5BYGd7vYtLdahGwTGoaTvoyhUdUg_Pitd3VsF2YQCuECxxYa0zkq3FcX6KEzZX9TNYI0VBp35-TcaPpXtH67eytYFnuTLywgDsMlCCDTxXMSWZqkCHtShqdYA/s320/125389900_2830848053793221_3023359946174041857_n.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p>You all know how the story ends though, Drew didn't end up being the one to be cured by the trial. As it turned out, he wasn't even in the 50% that see any help in slowing down the disease. </p><p>He'd die just over 2 months later. </p><p>So that's why I'll always remember election night, 2016. And why it was such a difficult "first" since Drew's been gone. The build up and anticipation felt much like 4 years ago, and triggered all of these memories and emotions. My friend from down the hall and I reached out to each other last week, both of us thinking of the other and remembering how we spent election night 4 years ago together. Our sons are now together in Heaven, my guess is NOT paying much attention to the election 😉 </p><p><br /></p><p>The election of 2020 though has obviously not been like the election of 2016 in many ways. Yes, it sure felt the same leading up to it, but there was no winner declared on Tuesday night. We will see who gets inaugurated in January, and many emotions are on display from both sides as tensions rise politically.</p><p>The coverage of national reactions and celebrations, the social media posts of glee and relief, but also those of anger and frustration, show the very intense feelings out there. As I watch it all and take in all the comments and posts I can handle, I'm realizing something. Behind the initial emotions, maybe the most dramatic reactions of some are a result of being too dependent on circumstances for happiness. Some people seem to either have all of their hopes lost in the election, or likewise have gained back all hope as a result. </p><p>Now, I believe elections and politics are important, don't get me wrong, I get into them too! I think it is our responsibility as citizens to be engaged and involved in the political process. I too had some strong reactions, felt some of the same feelings many of you have felt in the last 10 days. So as usual, I write this as much for me to think about as anyone else. </p><p>So let's think about it--has anything actually changed from Tuesday last week to today? Our personal situations, for the large part, have remained the same. What <i>has</i> changed is the perceived future, and with it, perspective. It's all in our minds whether we're going to be better off or worse off after the election last week, we don't really know for sure. And that perspective has totally, radically in some cases, changed some of our attitudes and moods. Politics aside, do you see what I mean? Can you see how this one result, one event, has made such an impact in the lives of many Americans? </p><p>Is this a bad thing? Yea, kind of. If your mindset and hope is based on things that are out of your control, bigger than you, then you will always be riding a roller-coaster of hope and desperation. We have the power within our own selves to choose to be hopeful, to have joy, and to not let this world effect our own little world every day. Regardless of what happens <i>to</i> us. Do you see what I'm trying to say? We shouldn't let an election throw us into despair, or be the only reason we are smiling today. What if we decided each day to be hopeful and happy all by ourselves? Didn't leave it up how the chips fall around us? I know its possible, and what a difference it can make. Drew showed me that in 2016.</p><p>I can't leave this idea without adding that the only place to always find hope and joy, is through faith in God. Jesus has already won the battle, beaten His opponent, 2,000 years ago on the cross. And it's in <i>that</i> victory that I have set my hope, and found real peace and joy in my life--not through whoever is elected President. It would be nice if my candidate wins, but if not, I can still choose to live not in anger, gloom and fear because I know it will all work out in the end. </p><p>And in that ending, I'll never, ever, have to hold my son as his whole body quivers in pain again. Instead, we all will filled with joy, surrounded by love, celebrating the only One who is worthy of praise 🙌</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeBg7MJRrXYUVZ30TzSKeUrlTcP47gXDBpxGWKLEBO7W3jFBhrjoHnj4SSokA36WGF9GQpNDkSmEPsGkOB3GWpFCGIjaXh3bthXlubo889PFeAv6-7-h3ETJ22e_VD_FWN-J6aXaR5mw/s1944/125253235_1025721624593982_3660025085230065345_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="1458" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeBg7MJRrXYUVZ30TzSKeUrlTcP47gXDBpxGWKLEBO7W3jFBhrjoHnj4SSokA36WGF9GQpNDkSmEPsGkOB3GWpFCGIjaXh3bthXlubo889PFeAv6-7-h3ETJ22e_VD_FWN-J6aXaR5mw/s320/125253235_1025721624593982_3660025085230065345_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-49902271339518810012020-10-26T17:00:00.000-05:002020-10-26T17:00:13.210-05:00Life Keeps Moving On...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfehIH8diglUCZU2pBrNeL8IV52ZC-EBOKn8XPcoIPuJpAMojVigYatz-k0zfLrXjQGLvX6Ot-OlXXOQ84rRKsd3TpbKHsIq06ciF5DXVa7R05T6OR39uXT5AHsK7CpG6a9hkLCDZxfw/s2016/122207800_735608923700515_7042503454789669070_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfehIH8diglUCZU2pBrNeL8IV52ZC-EBOKn8XPcoIPuJpAMojVigYatz-k0zfLrXjQGLvX6Ot-OlXXOQ84rRKsd3TpbKHsIq06ciF5DXVa7R05T6OR39uXT5AHsK7CpG6a9hkLCDZxfw/s320/122207800_735608923700515_7042503454789669070_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left;">Its been a while since I've added a post on here, and its because we've been busy for a change! Well, okay, to be fair, we've had a pretty busy year actually. But in a year that has forced us all to slow down our daily lives, our fall sure has been full! We've traveled a lot, seen new things, and experienced so much together.</span></div></div><p>Josh's Grandpa Norm passed into Heaven in early September. We gathered with family to celebrate his life in Iowa on a beautiful early fall afternoon. We were thankful to be able to hold a service during these times, and to remember his life marked by his very strong work ethic and devotion to his family.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir0vdkLxxPxbvYtJMG0EwbcHTp2qcLRNBoFVz9VBeSZmQQiUqNrnyOgw99kB7xp7lF_PCrizK2SoCHygDb-Mc9VS-CgiKZh3IuO6NFRb_mnW4LC_dBl6snxquTYhIuaL3iNUnx6zj5Lg/s2016/122654126_368322961180531_2448323342136199186_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir0vdkLxxPxbvYtJMG0EwbcHTp2qcLRNBoFVz9VBeSZmQQiUqNrnyOgw99kB7xp7lF_PCrizK2SoCHygDb-Mc9VS-CgiKZh3IuO6NFRb_mnW4LC_dBl6snxquTYhIuaL3iNUnx6zj5Lg/s320/122654126_368322961180531_2448323342136199186_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCOi2viFNiXw_VOnvxGpeAguEi8dsDBf9EzkQUKa7C9ROIAzV1_8UWqfHEmG60NhS4n03zy7VQL7Jy88oUz5A_6-OnW6_aISu7BpjyzDR4J8Nq9N0wN7lkiBYIwFqFTFBE-rXOJ6payg/s2016/122323708_2802304579988910_8571721240820752779_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCOi2viFNiXw_VOnvxGpeAguEi8dsDBf9EzkQUKa7C9ROIAzV1_8UWqfHEmG60NhS4n03zy7VQL7Jy88oUz5A_6-OnW6_aISu7BpjyzDR4J8Nq9N0wN7lkiBYIwFqFTFBE-rXOJ6payg/s320/122323708_2802304579988910_8571721240820752779_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>He will be missed in our family, but we're glad that Drew has more relatives to entertain before we get there too 💗</p><p>Only two days after we got home from Iowa, we set off on a 12 day road trip to California and back! Josh had business meetings at several different plants along the way and in California, and Molly and I decided since school was all-remote, we might as well tag along! </p><p>We start by driving across much of Wyoming, and getting to Salt Lake. Josh and Molly were excited to float in the salty waters. I designated myself the photographer after remembering the flies and stink from when I was there with my family as a kid...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbTMmo4CSlv7Ef4wOXQsMYxqAE0Tka7_S8of3g7sOFcUWWEWPZGo_yPliH8Uvl1tU_4T8ihXYOgc2T-kz9doA0rZLLtE04pkkqrHPuSQvP4jvC9CeHD2MpXhZS5g1mSLAXxeggtkXfVQ/s2016/122163489_801974480642396_7869074407141024578_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbTMmo4CSlv7Ef4wOXQsMYxqAE0Tka7_S8of3g7sOFcUWWEWPZGo_yPliH8Uvl1tU_4T8ihXYOgc2T-kz9doA0rZLLtE04pkkqrHPuSQvP4jvC9CeHD2MpXhZS5g1mSLAXxeggtkXfVQ/s320/122163489_801974480642396_7869074407141024578_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb25JY0jwwpm7jCeIKOhwcpphlZeurUh8fQJviANljQ7PrnuQCGmatZiZ_QOTNei8pt_BXGOu3JTsy7uxeRm_gUk4Bt3BKUBnDJZUszj4J6LIprimTotP54nYe7m9YUCF9LxHW74bGVw/s2016/122468614_741369486449352_4571721495242425941_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1504" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb25JY0jwwpm7jCeIKOhwcpphlZeurUh8fQJviANljQ7PrnuQCGmatZiZ_QOTNei8pt_BXGOu3JTsy7uxeRm_gUk4Bt3BKUBnDJZUszj4J6LIprimTotP54nYe7m9YUCF9LxHW74bGVw/s320/122468614_741369486449352_4571721495242425941_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>After staying a night in beautiful Provo where Josh had his first meeting the next morning, we headed on to Las Vegas, where we took a few personal days to show Molly our favorite city!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2y_Eg9EEgNJrkxE7qteNOQi8l_8oNXkQ-krJsqLy_EqJstYuwO6U-1delxTBUEbemCjZQ3mzgV0jfgnDmOW4rOZmQCDdfigkDpCmyBxGiEp5usYDsaE0BJG22UyNf0OuqNww3QqMEiQ/s2016/122182406_691993971443397_8319092681752160158_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2y_Eg9EEgNJrkxE7qteNOQi8l_8oNXkQ-krJsqLy_EqJstYuwO6U-1delxTBUEbemCjZQ3mzgV0jfgnDmOW4rOZmQCDdfigkDpCmyBxGiEp5usYDsaE0BJG22UyNf0OuqNww3QqMEiQ/s320/122182406_691993971443397_8319092681752160158_n.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_2nrl0DXWXyjMc71lrxprABw5y_FEN-YQS14bXm1huV8iq-HdmuVwLWgNv2B6aTKt-wImBGBSfRuXM9DyxvHhFVL9pG9aujxMdEvjNgZu7-RjT3fgV9RmL-g_Pp0V2QAvmADia49R7w/s2016/122178880_735713440355664_4505557810667251910_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_2nrl0DXWXyjMc71lrxprABw5y_FEN-YQS14bXm1huV8iq-HdmuVwLWgNv2B6aTKt-wImBGBSfRuXM9DyxvHhFVL9pG9aujxMdEvjNgZu7-RjT3fgV9RmL-g_Pp0V2QAvmADia49R7w/s320/122178880_735713440355664_4505557810667251910_n.jpg" /></a></div></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMW47Ilig-PVRazehK5opzwjpJD5wgKwxQcTyhpDh1FByC4MOrLt_E1FSdW0UQ00pUbfXBkWpAGZCuI3ClXdWfY5FZH-7oG4TQeHJmkdecD92upOciCw3AIKSuwKGyIrsSnMDiEHtocg/s1661/122271162_1007617559757968_784037744931812341_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1661" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMW47Ilig-PVRazehK5opzwjpJD5wgKwxQcTyhpDh1FByC4MOrLt_E1FSdW0UQ00pUbfXBkWpAGZCuI3ClXdWfY5FZH-7oG4TQeHJmkdecD92upOciCw3AIKSuwKGyIrsSnMDiEHtocg/s320/122271162_1007617559757968_784037744931812341_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmdu3xYtzl0MwjXLtY8wmgOb7IGgY4_yc2s40IXZxOTXU5-bmzzf_J-MBpODXY3opHwiHy2Lahj80KZ40BXjVB3SwHbpWwVT9-Djk_hOmfaGDI71de7lT4UODh4EGKdz5x5BFE2KB8_Q/s2016/122241233_1032954010479173_380686110307543002_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmdu3xYtzl0MwjXLtY8wmgOb7IGgY4_yc2s40IXZxOTXU5-bmzzf_J-MBpODXY3opHwiHy2Lahj80KZ40BXjVB3SwHbpWwVT9-Djk_hOmfaGDI71de7lT4UODh4EGKdz5x5BFE2KB8_Q/s320/122241233_1032954010479173_380686110307543002_n.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieGb4WCBjUgCV7azBwjJw5jpE4X-5wmei-rmp3KUXoitx-6ZztLXwWpa0EZM6FR9pn6-RIvAkg7mYUb0AQ4S6hQslKJiP9j57QOQ-u74E5eBtFsBZ6Jh8j2e2dZuZIA6eZQopRYXwjKQ/s2016/122473775_1273770316335513_3600793739263420147_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieGb4WCBjUgCV7azBwjJw5jpE4X-5wmei-rmp3KUXoitx-6ZztLXwWpa0EZM6FR9pn6-RIvAkg7mYUb0AQ4S6hQslKJiP9j57QOQ-u74E5eBtFsBZ6Jh8j2e2dZuZIA6eZQopRYXwjKQ/s320/122473775_1273770316335513_3600793739263420147_n.jpg" /></a></div></div></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy0jw2y1Z8DyvLJdTcvu4RiVFeoM20oSUklSzpnqXW0JSaWIeNPy_tks_MG4dzTyF-RBn-NvuCY6rs0t-vCLt40YWoh0TJQeQ03BLHK4rt1KYaS-LXBLCEfV4qNOP_LztItGDxkb0xXg/s1824/122244907_713033109343523_3728461529490409511_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="1360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy0jw2y1Z8DyvLJdTcvu4RiVFeoM20oSUklSzpnqXW0JSaWIeNPy_tks_MG4dzTyF-RBn-NvuCY6rs0t-vCLt40YWoh0TJQeQ03BLHK4rt1KYaS-LXBLCEfV4qNOP_LztItGDxkb0xXg/s320/122244907_713033109343523_3728461529490409511_n.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK7HMzVExWTRs8JUUZoSglAs8qVFyHTf40clYcS4MAHreyOV8y_MgpHzp_SgmtegT1p9eeCTotNak4vU2cMeCaKNbG_pPIK1L6cHeNY7-WGgaLAn6bh1rhlMkUiWs0ELmCIFoB52zwvQ/s1824/122568984_2940428819390078_7050356381569844816_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="1360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK7HMzVExWTRs8JUUZoSglAs8qVFyHTf40clYcS4MAHreyOV8y_MgpHzp_SgmtegT1p9eeCTotNak4vU2cMeCaKNbG_pPIK1L6cHeNY7-WGgaLAn6bh1rhlMkUiWs0ELmCIFoB52zwvQ/s320/122568984_2940428819390078_7050356381569844816_n.jpg" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was so fun to be out in the world again! And to see Molly experience all the action and glitter of Las Vegas. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But my heart still hasn't forgotten that we *all* weren't together, experiencing Las Vegas. That someone was missing from the photos. As always, sadness came with the joy we were having. I found myself wishing frequently I could see the excitement and wonder in <i>both </i>of our children's eyes. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We talked about him a lot, as we often do. He'd have loved the fire from the volcano show at the Mirage. Molly wished out loud for Drew to be with us in the lazy river at the MGM pool so we could have had a longer train of innertubes as we floated along. And we all were struck instantly by the tree at the Bellagio atrium with the face on it. Just like the "sleeping tree" at the Give Kids the World Village on our Make-a-Wish trip that Drew was obsessed with! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtlJ3vI8WU_FMpfxyiyfdY7O8aNKW2lUwZnFRI4l2f2ifIc5xj_dzrrl8Y6oIkTzEdTZy_vIfg3Q81sSWRXyoHdGjrVwYkep5pmoGrW059r2F3kxeAS9MAF_VuVfWURvZaF9cgqVW8LA/s2016/122297305_1070292870107432_5119262606677871519_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtlJ3vI8WU_FMpfxyiyfdY7O8aNKW2lUwZnFRI4l2f2ifIc5xj_dzrrl8Y6oIkTzEdTZy_vIfg3Q81sSWRXyoHdGjrVwYkep5pmoGrW059r2F3kxeAS9MAF_VuVfWURvZaF9cgqVW8LA/s320/122297305_1070292870107432_5119262606677871519_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></blockquote><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnzLX3CD8RJnj_BFsmpZelJSocOB7k7h1sjuUhhKEM5DOyJbiv8typ6vbb6so_EWV_LuzCcPHhHCWKyy-IS08mgnlVUtoWGAZohP1jSEKVB81YEUQyjwskmGgDnNe6-OX6Nb6XEL6Ghw/s2016/122440288_343449836730708_6896741371141478984_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1504" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnzLX3CD8RJnj_BFsmpZelJSocOB7k7h1sjuUhhKEM5DOyJbiv8typ6vbb6so_EWV_LuzCcPHhHCWKyy-IS08mgnlVUtoWGAZohP1jSEKVB81YEUQyjwskmGgDnNe6-OX6Nb6XEL6Ghw/s320/122440288_343449836730708_6896741371141478984_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikxc9wfKprvCdFdxFpedq7Ihq2v3eJIlJ_eV944L6nYoTWS9s1EichpNNsBy41Y9u6pK4hEGkVOLqsCYSdgkDbyCOkgCzK1INaLwuQk9nuayoBLt7I94kY7WM5CDZPUHPYsnPKrKCR3A/s2016/122234691_3354523444664596_8180078460584904014_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikxc9wfKprvCdFdxFpedq7Ihq2v3eJIlJ_eV944L6nYoTWS9s1EichpNNsBy41Y9u6pK4hEGkVOLqsCYSdgkDbyCOkgCzK1INaLwuQk9nuayoBLt7I94kY7WM5CDZPUHPYsnPKrKCR3A/s320/122234691_3354523444664596_8180078460584904014_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So in a very real way, Drew was with us in Las Vegas, he just didn't show up in the pictures...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We moved on from Vegas west, through Nevada and Arizona, to California. We made it all the way to San Francisco the next night, and crammed as many tourist attractions as we could before the sun went down. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgugouO1ORrDqWolR6L9JZD1Mv51mNO81JkmaGUKF2KcaO_iabkEvn_Rg84TOUU41Fbw0mLJpMXvsj0Ncw3zjvMauQoT2PbLi6u7wSA8OYWAQ3MNJUdCNfY8GCa64-y4xpgeqUco5OeQA/s1824/122428712_681867746038799_4986361272989464289_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="1180" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgugouO1ORrDqWolR6L9JZD1Mv51mNO81JkmaGUKF2KcaO_iabkEvn_Rg84TOUU41Fbw0mLJpMXvsj0Ncw3zjvMauQoT2PbLi6u7wSA8OYWAQ3MNJUdCNfY8GCa64-y4xpgeqUco5OeQA/s320/122428712_681867746038799_4986361272989464289_n.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq_OP13TmhyphenhyphensVZaYSc02AgJaJftFGrweDxxSAAlhsqlSFjOIngckgDO4p8hvo25DX3k7JMwrNgmyRbfgk0A72c1crA9pJNi6j2_xGkq0b2WW0plN4v780YZPm8NeML_kS9O8rwR-A7tA/s2016/122318403_378798066639064_4374190813075186565_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq_OP13TmhyphenhyphensVZaYSc02AgJaJftFGrweDxxSAAlhsqlSFjOIngckgDO4p8hvo25DX3k7JMwrNgmyRbfgk0A72c1crA9pJNi6j2_xGkq0b2WW0plN4v780YZPm8NeML_kS9O8rwR-A7tA/s320/122318403_378798066639064_4374190813075186565_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXN80N09WHgJyYUDRk7vsOMR5mOODaPmweTrrwCbajTpmTpE7jwiyjn-NtSxClCXEk1qJjSze33pvfuWKLa9rO3kqnNhuvJ56uB5-SHQ2exEogC07a9RHb9Zrdrlf_70TyuHmK35EK0g/s2016/122393210_342196080204116_520558143889758366_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXN80N09WHgJyYUDRk7vsOMR5mOODaPmweTrrwCbajTpmTpE7jwiyjn-NtSxClCXEk1qJjSze33pvfuWKLa9rO3kqnNhuvJ56uB5-SHQ2exEogC07a9RHb9Zrdrlf_70TyuHmK35EK0g/s320/122393210_342196080204116_520558143889758366_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi47qIMfLAq_Nu4HNUNSYyNlxo0qag848MyjFlToz5EmbwPjGUmo5OSPHW1I-2hq8lh3fOFbPo9i5wdxYk0dbWr-_MC-R7V9iCsbWJsp57pWCllAn2oiqloQ-Vug3lZVnpnvN7I4ApjYA/s2016/122344528_859291541275724_5018216668346142091_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi47qIMfLAq_Nu4HNUNSYyNlxo0qag848MyjFlToz5EmbwPjGUmo5OSPHW1I-2hq8lh3fOFbPo9i5wdxYk0dbWr-_MC-R7V9iCsbWJsp57pWCllAn2oiqloQ-Vug3lZVnpnvN7I4ApjYA/s320/122344528_859291541275724_5018216668346142091_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6NK4nPoc_6bzGfmtPIzefD6xnCPbCunDRWfzZnPsaDiyZ7jzakK51UoLFlUL1kzKAyPMuielu1nvMo_jC4s2sab0QRfyZ_D6L83UGWLDwj24ETcINL0RtkGa1_7c36BP2WRBN2sQYUg/s2016/122386524_1194908564213923_1927487389179055694_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6NK4nPoc_6bzGfmtPIzefD6xnCPbCunDRWfzZnPsaDiyZ7jzakK51UoLFlUL1kzKAyPMuielu1nvMo_jC4s2sab0QRfyZ_D6L83UGWLDwj24ETcINL0RtkGa1_7c36BP2WRBN2sQYUg/s320/122386524_1194908564213923_1927487389179055694_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdxTyxx-8lXBnyuANsdPe4A98fnzo96SvmEXwTX1PH3lHqqSHcv7x_x7w0LfWj-GfHxYXWGTfRVlghiy7RG9_IiHP3RUhaQoWvj4_SGhRz1pZPtXAYvwSnWO3cOxoBYB2zA4Jj3BXYJQ/s2016/122381571_1659585110876961_7977054779052304976_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdxTyxx-8lXBnyuANsdPe4A98fnzo96SvmEXwTX1PH3lHqqSHcv7x_x7w0LfWj-GfHxYXWGTfRVlghiy7RG9_IiHP3RUhaQoWvj4_SGhRz1pZPtXAYvwSnWO3cOxoBYB2zA4Jj3BXYJQ/s320/122381571_1659585110876961_7977054779052304976_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRhWfuR5icYzwDrAm3ZURa7_Fo8ZMviTSfJUBGE_xMnBWqq4gp4u8LCkuE500zr8wQgg-1XIILTDvQ1XXbBGw_YZLqsJs1GR7njDH9fGHPgwQEM2-l326lTc2udNJouNz7LJ2hSbO_Gw/s2016/122166590_347123409926976_7553367121854163001_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRhWfuR5icYzwDrAm3ZURa7_Fo8ZMviTSfJUBGE_xMnBWqq4gp4u8LCkuE500zr8wQgg-1XIILTDvQ1XXbBGw_YZLqsJs1GR7njDH9fGHPgwQEM2-l326lTc2udNJouNz7LJ2hSbO_Gw/s320/122166590_347123409926976_7553367121854163001_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Us Beckers are efficient! It was a tease of an afternoon, though. San Francisco has so much to offer, and we just brushed the surface! We decided we'll just have to go back, and experience more of this fun city. <div><br /></div><div>After Josh finished his business in San Francisco, we made our way to Fresno via Hwy 1 along the California coast. Unfortunately, heavy fog rolled in off the ocean, but I captured some of the beauty before it was hidden in the fog. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_cGAD5tj3u0NPZn6yeSRkO-A-JXWNFRvPed-QAeDSX6m0u5abiBzAg6X2ENfn7hsAA_5apRwTv8i9xoQ75sy2_UrqNBVpxyA3cRD5UXAllSLtwF30rUp-hipsKKs-HnQeVXNfZZAefA/s2016/122475995_686542342246287_7435987818769670661_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_cGAD5tj3u0NPZn6yeSRkO-A-JXWNFRvPed-QAeDSX6m0u5abiBzAg6X2ENfn7hsAA_5apRwTv8i9xoQ75sy2_UrqNBVpxyA3cRD5UXAllSLtwF30rUp-hipsKKs-HnQeVXNfZZAefA/s320/122475995_686542342246287_7435987818769670661_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf8dKCyhp68vJ6EMn4xNWRfbVdwEya_N6cIXhsy1PAZ5ctkK164EuoqQX9rJQ5RFV5YoypRHwJo0h0lyRWYNEk4E1k82kuNnYAAz67KYtFwwhupa_vnIq6zBklNVhqfkTuI8eO-zpjiQ/s2016/122454692_381929749518599_6896712705483393889_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf8dKCyhp68vJ6EMn4xNWRfbVdwEya_N6cIXhsy1PAZ5ctkK164EuoqQX9rJQ5RFV5YoypRHwJo0h0lyRWYNEk4E1k82kuNnYAAz67KYtFwwhupa_vnIq6zBklNVhqfkTuI8eO-zpjiQ/s320/122454692_381929749518599_6896712705483393889_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We spent a couple hours at the beach before we started back east. I forgot how cold the pacific ocean is along this coast! But Molly didn't mind, digging holes in the sand and declaring her love for her family in the sand...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8stuxW2exmRlqM0g43huIlSBc2pk52PG7uyVIzfxT4_y7CvFiDwp6te5aKGVKxYhPie6eYQ4Ja4pgtN30OsjP-ONxN2WjMn8pVwOAkuh5JcJRt202iO7YvI6ZzV0i-wLs5F_9JsB5Fg/s2016/122306325_1193174227820230_8865034323634419877_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8stuxW2exmRlqM0g43huIlSBc2pk52PG7uyVIzfxT4_y7CvFiDwp6te5aKGVKxYhPie6eYQ4Ja4pgtN30OsjP-ONxN2WjMn8pVwOAkuh5JcJRt202iO7YvI6ZzV0i-wLs5F_9JsB5Fg/s320/122306325_1193174227820230_8865034323634419877_n.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirx_XjuxNA8a1sknislKFS8TYqOXPOvyvTfH1RrklYy_rkBr9_khJcjqcjxDBWtqMd53kEogfska_jtwYWv7iNZnnP_drpzCVorKriH62maVhZg3-AJhRJYqVHd7v4FpZsT_ht097GZQ/s2016/122182830_263727685044547_5258563893545414823_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirx_XjuxNA8a1sknislKFS8TYqOXPOvyvTfH1RrklYy_rkBr9_khJcjqcjxDBWtqMd53kEogfska_jtwYWv7iNZnnP_drpzCVorKriH62maVhZg3-AJhRJYqVHd7v4FpZsT_ht097GZQ/s320/122182830_263727685044547_5258563893545414823_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieBgv08GNLbBFhm4C2HASiC9SItqus-kQO6hQSpBIdUgbEzB_ap8lTnV9wt6hYmI73roGKO85LiQ4KcuyrAMRwJHNDP18EqUIeuqbdmMk34XriRZcFIpm17iS_HjzU7uhSfQ9w6jQLoQ/s2016/122273243_671122627110271_4476805745437308399_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieBgv08GNLbBFhm4C2HASiC9SItqus-kQO6hQSpBIdUgbEzB_ap8lTnV9wt6hYmI73roGKO85LiQ4KcuyrAMRwJHNDP18EqUIeuqbdmMk34XriRZcFIpm17iS_HjzU7uhSfQ9w6jQLoQ/s320/122273243_671122627110271_4476805745437308399_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Being from Iowa, we loved the agriculture of the central California valley! This was where Josh had more of his business meetings--with the almond growers here in Almond Country! But we saw from the road that it wasn't just almond groves around Fresno. But grapes (for raisins we learned!), fruit, and other nut trees. A big change from rows and rows of beans and corn in the Midwest!</div><div><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpAxpbSrlW8zSkneCzmf23-EU9I4OjrUZQmedldngcA4IRee51jhyphenhyphenwR_hO24mpB0I48rUW47CX0cgSWmeyZ30MQEw46eTi_rxhFG-S9HxgfOqqkUZSYV4PeUW_oQ8KMYtTDxHo5kHSQA/s2016/122497363_385062655956146_7980217199601728424_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpAxpbSrlW8zSkneCzmf23-EU9I4OjrUZQmedldngcA4IRee51jhyphenhyphenwR_hO24mpB0I48rUW47CX0cgSWmeyZ30MQEw46eTi_rxhFG-S9HxgfOqqkUZSYV4PeUW_oQ8KMYtTDxHo5kHSQA/s320/122497363_385062655956146_7980217199601728424_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZzVd3JEKfi-M_kXmLt8xgVTk7I_LO0tH7-Pciwu2zDgF-XFpKDspftHThA5ANNKLErE28HWgaAxhQSO47ieNpxzx924ZZhSbnUrktGeCMzJ2vJe2CawcgVDvr_kNG3EzuH36lNEJDg/s2016/122238512_838900426857263_6519452384444976362_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZzVd3JEKfi-M_kXmLt8xgVTk7I_LO0tH7-Pciwu2zDgF-XFpKDspftHThA5ANNKLErE28HWgaAxhQSO47ieNpxzx924ZZhSbnUrktGeCMzJ2vJe2CawcgVDvr_kNG3EzuH36lNEJDg/s320/122238512_838900426857263_6519452384444976362_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>This was where Molly and I had some downtime at the hotel while Josh worked. Which was a welcome rest, before we headed back home. </div><div><br /></div><div>It took us two days of driving to get back home, but what a fun two days in the car it was! The whole trip in the car was fun, actually. This part of the country is so rich with changing landscapes. All along the way I was glued to the window, trying to take in all of God's amazing creativity in His creation.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK8i8X6IDKDckJQukvwngy7odC6MSQVyIuAzELuMNor8PJqqyOmzcAIRG39ZrFiWgDg4YvTHBkjMaewUJItX-xA8kluI-kpevzAjyW_UBqKbn_bMJ39ijp1iysQ3vKSNBYgmTAHEoliQ/s2016/122165244_1280993218919101_3031317809311091257_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK8i8X6IDKDckJQukvwngy7odC6MSQVyIuAzELuMNor8PJqqyOmzcAIRG39ZrFiWgDg4YvTHBkjMaewUJItX-xA8kluI-kpevzAjyW_UBqKbn_bMJ39ijp1iysQ3vKSNBYgmTAHEoliQ/s320/122165244_1280993218919101_3031317809311091257_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6TWsI1Qa3QDQNfKbmJJpV_20OzOgnGniWAig3iKJy5Z4Gu4NfuKPwT9c23RSSd2yIIV25WPhRpcSxWoHq1vzFldv7uVYd8bHTcuATYwIflNM13KDNnt_cNCjSk4WSbdLNBGft50gs0Q/s2016/122176738_981105729078173_7132457060296774018_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6TWsI1Qa3QDQNfKbmJJpV_20OzOgnGniWAig3iKJy5Z4Gu4NfuKPwT9c23RSSd2yIIV25WPhRpcSxWoHq1vzFldv7uVYd8bHTcuATYwIflNM13KDNnt_cNCjSk4WSbdLNBGft50gs0Q/s320/122176738_981105729078173_7132457060296774018_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdC8PP5XLfNKUoXwpicIIkpNXROO_Okn4X_G9tkxzpOBMcX6ZjGsi0WSp6JIZeYUm1gMyP-Ikk3Wvp3WeoJ976YTN7G0jWt76c_k0adAewwQE71Yfk53Xwf3F6bwbLL6s3VlZbBB7A6A/s2016/122210749_816799322466162_6559716390243603779_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdC8PP5XLfNKUoXwpicIIkpNXROO_Okn4X_G9tkxzpOBMcX6ZjGsi0WSp6JIZeYUm1gMyP-Ikk3Wvp3WeoJ976YTN7G0jWt76c_k0adAewwQE71Yfk53Xwf3F6bwbLL6s3VlZbBB7A6A/s320/122210749_816799322466162_6559716390243603779_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6h3HwIGrKUOghEXYn6hI5Oy9VLyk6n8EdzakWdhropvwjqphO2WWyqmvjJY4OxLrAOdZ5UEMwIArHG6o_2Dv6-DlKK-opB-tY-kicWKDJ_cK62t5dKZkWyNUq-XtnKjGeiCG5q_cQ0Q/s2016/122270034_3602985799745386_8677219795399248072_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6h3HwIGrKUOghEXYn6hI5Oy9VLyk6n8EdzakWdhropvwjqphO2WWyqmvjJY4OxLrAOdZ5UEMwIArHG6o_2Dv6-DlKK-opB-tY-kicWKDJ_cK62t5dKZkWyNUq-XtnKjGeiCG5q_cQ0Q/s320/122270034_3602985799745386_8677219795399248072_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2fWK86l2Vb_KozAr2bZrtgyEqum42JvgF_oybsxTSyo1MfSxkC1S1GzpP90sKnj4y-uDG0In24nb6nGvxA53a3FQjq28zX_n6Jg9oGiWxQZegutBhH5teteVp6EVSbw-I_xo__XuhmQ/s2016/122243481_383435572841884_7029720733290764470_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2fWK86l2Vb_KozAr2bZrtgyEqum42JvgF_oybsxTSyo1MfSxkC1S1GzpP90sKnj4y-uDG0In24nb6nGvxA53a3FQjq28zX_n6Jg9oGiWxQZegutBhH5teteVp6EVSbw-I_xo__XuhmQ/s320/122243481_383435572841884_7029720733290764470_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrzyp49YT5hc91S8k9ol6vsJm8bnYZKdyAF1-riUZQxaYBOETcQmi6KvcRjUGlgReTcg35LYpQGQ_BabLDAXGUnMqgdTq-RjNK_9L7HBSJ5GcdwIRjBIiO62gwjFqWxkV33WIsktTtA/s2016/122393863_359834145365738_7388702204972745700_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrzyp49YT5hc91S8k9ol6vsJm8bnYZKdyAF1-riUZQxaYBOETcQmi6KvcRjUGlgReTcg35LYpQGQ_BabLDAXGUnMqgdTq-RjNK_9L7HBSJ5GcdwIRjBIiO62gwjFqWxkV33WIsktTtA/s320/122393863_359834145365738_7388702204972745700_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmnzQ-kq6jn7AHe4b70mo8NICezVnY33FcVGaZy78v37f35lWnGOkMhLon5UmYvovgMDmaE2VRXaRdj513Uuw6rJzhNgT4JfQKWUlkd3J3UDSRJybsbZ-81qghi7MbH3pJ2V9h6lJsEA/s2016/122504085_263004525129856_8184794388279895319_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmnzQ-kq6jn7AHe4b70mo8NICezVnY33FcVGaZy78v37f35lWnGOkMhLon5UmYvovgMDmaE2VRXaRdj513Uuw6rJzhNgT4JfQKWUlkd3J3UDSRJybsbZ-81qghi7MbH3pJ2V9h6lJsEA/s320/122504085_263004525129856_8184794388279895319_n.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div>You all know how much I love sunrises and sunsets--the ones from the road were pretty amazing to watch too!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWaM9l2pHyZtbXjLAuI_TwZtE7QxS9j8_0SGhxC7nMNVaKk7Odg78PLeQECccM_gywnfbCqOYscbU6U_cUmDAAxUfbWLmezQ9joYniyeT9-a9AEDbtau-2P8V2CY4Xrb5UcY05hU5bUA/s2016/122445471_1302409330120777_3036638296673551436_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWaM9l2pHyZtbXjLAuI_TwZtE7QxS9j8_0SGhxC7nMNVaKk7Odg78PLeQECccM_gywnfbCqOYscbU6U_cUmDAAxUfbWLmezQ9joYniyeT9-a9AEDbtau-2P8V2CY4Xrb5UcY05hU5bUA/s320/122445471_1302409330120777_3036638296673551436_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOrmM_7-ev8ax8xkSYlvaIage0kV7IseBAvs0WF5G3X7U8aay5KDakcdaZgWfCeH6UL1g-2p5nVJUSiPiQrNq_DkaZ8I1EbpmgQIbKJDLX2MEXnw0-Bf4pDo7TCgUin_cFDJ0l1G1kgw/s2016/122574639_669352710679018_7248064216379083348_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOrmM_7-ev8ax8xkSYlvaIage0kV7IseBAvs0WF5G3X7U8aay5KDakcdaZgWfCeH6UL1g-2p5nVJUSiPiQrNq_DkaZ8I1EbpmgQIbKJDLX2MEXnw0-Bf4pDo7TCgUin_cFDJ0l1G1kgw/s320/122574639_669352710679018_7248064216379083348_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It was fun to stop the car along the way too, and take in some of the scenic sights! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL_EuvsFhwaOwa4rok2jJsOt_-vlBy-IXbuxG0FTIjTwhUC3KJMaHnEJqmcAdgH6qTYE6bTDx7uXZuSfvWWOzC_YBkzywKWjGv1wRhpT9KaTmzdEvz537680DKeFeQbFwhhFBPp4Lk6A/s2016/122233262_3656952071058673_8379363354303620488_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL_EuvsFhwaOwa4rok2jJsOt_-vlBy-IXbuxG0FTIjTwhUC3KJMaHnEJqmcAdgH6qTYE6bTDx7uXZuSfvWWOzC_YBkzywKWjGv1wRhpT9KaTmzdEvz537680DKeFeQbFwhhFBPp4Lk6A/s320/122233262_3656952071058673_8379363354303620488_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzjxIWTzOX0Z3NRM12gfJfbJCWmCRZ5-KJL1SVnVZtqfxO29Mynuw1dNb-4b9b3w_Jfn_i_wDE_r94s1pj_ExR8ci_icdaFJzyoiaATdMSElfc4Iwf3rmg6EzDdi-Kgyo7pnDKajco_Q/s1840/122350218_389857529054905_1733004712443834538_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1840" data-original-width="1376" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzjxIWTzOX0Z3NRM12gfJfbJCWmCRZ5-KJL1SVnVZtqfxO29Mynuw1dNb-4b9b3w_Jfn_i_wDE_r94s1pj_ExR8ci_icdaFJzyoiaATdMSElfc4Iwf3rmg6EzDdi-Kgyo7pnDKajco_Q/s320/122350218_389857529054905_1733004712443834538_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsrD_Gy2xN5qeXyAzgVefU5TccCdUuGyHGLpGMm7gYaew8fd-pgpFuT4n_5xJ_dP_-5nhG_Isr0UdBXkjvTjfZqq7pia9QXtnGMpkSgdZ_9iFA8ykdZLcxNcKtdsNNiYRXEQRKk1uHuQ/s2016/122189985_743966229529728_3021805908616451153_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsrD_Gy2xN5qeXyAzgVefU5TccCdUuGyHGLpGMm7gYaew8fd-pgpFuT4n_5xJ_dP_-5nhG_Isr0UdBXkjvTjfZqq7pia9QXtnGMpkSgdZ_9iFA8ykdZLcxNcKtdsNNiYRXEQRKk1uHuQ/s320/122189985_743966229529728_3021805908616451153_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzK1-refUac1nvYyTWYTpO8AJZrRiBSCxHrLvTUbDt0j21XVvP1zCH4bU8idS52jGQH6ZB1Je5E-509FpkVpCFpWErwE6menAxGkW2f6W8W430pz6QshEzrl9sRFiI-Ss11AW7BiBybw/s2016/122169581_804981516967156_769806948349350505_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzK1-refUac1nvYyTWYTpO8AJZrRiBSCxHrLvTUbDt0j21XVvP1zCH4bU8idS52jGQH6ZB1Je5E-509FpkVpCFpWErwE6menAxGkW2f6W8W430pz6QshEzrl9sRFiI-Ss11AW7BiBybw/s320/122169581_804981516967156_769806948349350505_n.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWslpuUQ-5JQZNqN3nEAeCA4yVKs47y004GZCUhTO5uVZ0_bX3mpkEblWKFwaFa-7iX7oPugUVsj7_-LNIudcKKJ7D7tqfc6FXTVnu3ofqmY8cADb3GQm84tknP4oyJc1ht_Y9PrI50Q/s2016/122537054_715570575718467_714456137727994029_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWslpuUQ-5JQZNqN3nEAeCA4yVKs47y004GZCUhTO5uVZ0_bX3mpkEblWKFwaFa-7iX7oPugUVsj7_-LNIudcKKJ7D7tqfc6FXTVnu3ofqmY8cADb3GQm84tknP4oyJc1ht_Y9PrI50Q/s320/122537054_715570575718467_714456137727994029_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbW3RpzakhWCItDHjAQSYgsqzufcbg80m5bSBAtdlMcSVQOHBojQkSkh_sgpI-YR8S18C-XcDj2404JOPedfyOkQjl7L9bDfSHwzYsJk4nRzQv3e9uKgjgezoCp7fDZhwjcPDCAUZrjg/s1824/122444913_786364451927682_1863999549922727625_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1368" data-original-width="1824" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbW3RpzakhWCItDHjAQSYgsqzufcbg80m5bSBAtdlMcSVQOHBojQkSkh_sgpI-YR8S18C-XcDj2404JOPedfyOkQjl7L9bDfSHwzYsJk4nRzQv3e9uKgjgezoCp7fDZhwjcPDCAUZrjg/s320/122444913_786364451927682_1863999549922727625_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Molly only ended up missing 3 days of school--our Vegas days--as she was able to attend "classes" and keep up with assignments from the car and hotel rooms. The remote learning thing that we weren't too happy about, allowed us to experience so much together, without sacrificing school. And for that I'm thankful!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvR8n6cXZeO0-xZH8NgTJh9Od4gDLaHn4rGf1JhQASYi0Sl1EWmbRoOsxKUDNA-mBzA46xBFibntyJSqdmEeNnJoBCRvBY_Deklc7FQNACPAaSeANyhZmb_pIHvUZqYUtjTnZGxfD8-Q/s2016/122185452_3509894085785237_2848159120060688179_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvR8n6cXZeO0-xZH8NgTJh9Od4gDLaHn4rGf1JhQASYi0Sl1EWmbRoOsxKUDNA-mBzA46xBFibntyJSqdmEeNnJoBCRvBY_Deklc7FQNACPAaSeANyhZmb_pIHvUZqYUtjTnZGxfD8-Q/s320/122185452_3509894085785237_2848159120060688179_n.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzHfXkqfCdZch_VnqShRKg8AASP1O77vIDxzU1MXnGnkcnzVOUcU5A83l6ZbWk1WqalS1Y2PAVcua2KCBKQL14eiJe31thOXb9CJja5no7p6V4K8BzDC2I2_eblXPeZpmmG7_ZrytPQQ/s2016/122449713_2862921987364371_3887796828909766957_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzHfXkqfCdZch_VnqShRKg8AASP1O77vIDxzU1MXnGnkcnzVOUcU5A83l6ZbWk1WqalS1Y2PAVcua2KCBKQL14eiJe31thOXb9CJja5no7p6V4K8BzDC2I2_eblXPeZpmmG7_ZrytPQQ/s320/122449713_2862921987364371_3887796828909766957_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /> </div><div>Yep, the first long Becker road trip almost couldn't have gone better. Yes, the pandemic limited some activities, the masks cramped our style, but we made the best of it, and didn't let fear keep us home. Being out and seeing the country reminded us that the world continues to go on, the sun rises and sets in breathtaking fashion, despite what we may think after watching the news. We can choose to sit at home and pout, be angry and blame others, OR we can make the most of this time, do what we can, and choose joy. It worked for us in 2016, and it is working for us again in 2020!</div><div><br /></div><div>Outside of our travels, we've continued to explore, settle into, and embrace our new Colorado home. Molly started a hybrid model for school the week after we got back from our trip--so actually GOING to school has been a highlight for everyone. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB6BFkEZeVqDMfykGV9HVr8Wshi3ov4eniCJ8ZgkW-6QNerWIa0xuab_KcnKq-x674FnpuMJV3YZPY3nsaAfWobG-UBk0oYwjB1Ylb9yXR5TOcabo0rO7DdEdkWDrL_iJHbwy7bYZVNQ/s2016/122327575_413730976692044_4209857752058121345_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB6BFkEZeVqDMfykGV9HVr8Wshi3ov4eniCJ8ZgkW-6QNerWIa0xuab_KcnKq-x674FnpuMJV3YZPY3nsaAfWobG-UBk0oYwjB1Ylb9yXR5TOcabo0rO7DdEdkWDrL_iJHbwy7bYZVNQ/s320/122327575_413730976692044_4209857752058121345_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div>I've been able to get back into some of what had become my life staples, in addition to keeping the household running, including the gym and my women's bible study--in a remote format this year.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbBV3QE1gY_ROoTOm07Nn4CUp55W655o0oVquwBd0jN145Ow9Tnyrzfgd8ipfvRaJJ-P45P5OU5Nk8R_6iUEWqzumkhhyAbSPAxkiREloTWH9HzaeO1HbSp4M2ePBWmdPCnUV0Ms0pFw/s2016/gym.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbBV3QE1gY_ROoTOm07Nn4CUp55W655o0oVquwBd0jN145Ow9Tnyrzfgd8ipfvRaJJ-P45P5OU5Nk8R_6iUEWqzumkhhyAbSPAxkiREloTWH9HzaeO1HbSp4M2ePBWmdPCnUV0Ms0pFw/s320/gym.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd0lf2e4CHFe1KBSx3DzaoIXnGNUW1zbyndilcyMTQLCw1TcMYwam4eS4OUXZAXsJs24L8vVPLEG_vZobMY2-4ci7pAy1fMOmtNGQCR4Y0GmD8ZvtInNSzlINamL75LsDb94MR-9Tcig/s2016/122226655_1484854925237481_516289767270688165_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd0lf2e4CHFe1KBSx3DzaoIXnGNUW1zbyndilcyMTQLCw1TcMYwam4eS4OUXZAXsJs24L8vVPLEG_vZobMY2-4ci7pAy1fMOmtNGQCR4Y0GmD8ZvtInNSzlINamL75LsDb94MR-9Tcig/s320/122226655_1484854925237481_516289767270688165_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And of course, Warrior Wagons business! Just keeping up with all 3 branches is a job nowadays, but we also got to do a few interviews/recordings this fall!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif66jabJ4L0UWBkcI7P_5s3yR19L3CPFTX1gtdOYR2GM6QvfjNd_S9f-CbvTNzvo7zzLIx3Y6zjajhOw2zGMfNwBbchdAFGvvMrtGTa6RGC6TFogLQ8XLrr4HafwSnUDQS69Q05T7N8A/s1959/122192352_403110350694190_6998530979839437409_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1959" data-original-width="1890" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif66jabJ4L0UWBkcI7P_5s3yR19L3CPFTX1gtdOYR2GM6QvfjNd_S9f-CbvTNzvo7zzLIx3Y6zjajhOw2zGMfNwBbchdAFGvvMrtGTa6RGC6TFogLQ8XLrr4HafwSnUDQS69Q05T7N8A/s320/122192352_403110350694190_6998530979839437409_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA1uY3OOBE0aSPs0DyIlzWgumDxzuvSa-Prhh4A4kRbm3poOsHiu_fW6CoDClkSBO_dzh7EErwYiYSP2S05RGDCWH9_YLd8o2tKw7j6GKM-wUcNFeWPAY2woMRyj89btDN9Zcpo-gmsw/s1920/122490674_644077896277203_4754033334891069823_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA1uY3OOBE0aSPs0DyIlzWgumDxzuvSa-Prhh4A4kRbm3poOsHiu_fW6CoDClkSBO_dzh7EErwYiYSP2S05RGDCWH9_YLd8o2tKw7j6GKM-wUcNFeWPAY2woMRyj89btDN9Zcpo-gmsw/s320/122490674_644077896277203_4754033334891069823_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>We're continuing to hit the trails, and hiked the flat irons near Boulder this fall. Which was more than we bargained for, but we all were proud of ourselves when we finished!<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLptfTKHbIoqmkYubGwfeL_YUY8TQzdwdNKrzhDzWf3asTAVwerEBlIKA6dgbwRs1thOV3bpy6jpni9SifjutqgCD3IaXTtn_n2ce5Btmyi18hUBhTlK0CfsKRREFkQH6xI_EK3T9uqg/s2016/122344528_264260041653514_8999902991077095484_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLptfTKHbIoqmkYubGwfeL_YUY8TQzdwdNKrzhDzWf3asTAVwerEBlIKA6dgbwRs1thOV3bpy6jpni9SifjutqgCD3IaXTtn_n2ce5Btmyi18hUBhTlK0CfsKRREFkQH6xI_EK3T9uqg/s320/122344528_264260041653514_8999902991077095484_n.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDpRdqR7ZtmbuGOCORIqeUdYxpxtCFVXMn_tE3yF6XM7oadW2db_pdizZI7pVneMtLzgb0g8uFZCYhc0GICxt5fE6GApZk0nZijRsRS-UPKZa9GBs_1IjpARlYeLlWFSwrYnqNGU5oHw/s2016/122210749_676758326283982_311217898661757266_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDpRdqR7ZtmbuGOCORIqeUdYxpxtCFVXMn_tE3yF6XM7oadW2db_pdizZI7pVneMtLzgb0g8uFZCYhc0GICxt5fE6GApZk0nZijRsRS-UPKZa9GBs_1IjpARlYeLlWFSwrYnqNGU5oHw/s320/122210749_676758326283982_311217898661757266_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKVED1YJSbfKdiICtCezsKhUGaKscL1nANQoDL_UQy3kADZv35DrbVW1E-mM5XEuKdsHtiSN4obWhdJRrcv9mkfI0G-c2QMDtcKxlbk1M3Ww9U459t__ETIFB2ap99-JqUkMyhYPtFKw/s2016/122187840_1300219340330024_6745598433101955229_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKVED1YJSbfKdiICtCezsKhUGaKscL1nANQoDL_UQy3kADZv35DrbVW1E-mM5XEuKdsHtiSN4obWhdJRrcv9mkfI0G-c2QMDtcKxlbk1M3Ww9U459t__ETIFB2ap99-JqUkMyhYPtFKw/s320/122187840_1300219340330024_6745598433101955229_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA16oOquy6RV271z845kwvX4A52T2GbsNK7_d0W1_L3vQ6I_N80ioGyKdI33k1VyYlWHM5GyzOFbex1TzARF5vjn4shICsZC2-lwODdHzHrT3DLunUdxw4BNB3IxnWafsphG060plF7g/s1824/122433176_468712790747167_5963394196712841405_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1368" data-original-width="1824" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA16oOquy6RV271z845kwvX4A52T2GbsNK7_d0W1_L3vQ6I_N80ioGyKdI33k1VyYlWHM5GyzOFbex1TzARF5vjn4shICsZC2-lwODdHzHrT3DLunUdxw4BNB3IxnWafsphG060plF7g/s320/122433176_468712790747167_5963394196712841405_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We were happy to have family friends from Minnesota visit us, and Molly couldn't have been more excited to host her first sleepover party with her cousins. She also is trying new things--like scootering around skate parks!</div></div><div><div><div><br /></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaklzCjNhopR6p3YMgoGE22rvloT6Y7t-P5eeRwM0gJBNOeYv_3fwDnJfE0v5D5NnM_P33JMphgw81fmt2WSm-qUZ4iRuLaFcKBw2FNBGdJbPPF3T4tAvCu18MMxibKqdXnxY4e-3ycA/s2016/122337512_758603948055864_3679359021771974369_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaklzCjNhopR6p3YMgoGE22rvloT6Y7t-P5eeRwM0gJBNOeYv_3fwDnJfE0v5D5NnM_P33JMphgw81fmt2WSm-qUZ4iRuLaFcKBw2FNBGdJbPPF3T4tAvCu18MMxibKqdXnxY4e-3ycA/s320/122337512_758603948055864_3679359021771974369_n.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib3Rz8p31XnAtkyFGsrMpw9Tkx5SxFSQav3lbcNVw0MiwJGm5lyRTtrXODEKz9Zqq1DX8SPwz9sEi_tSLXm3iC9nBM3MXlW6ns09-EGOZb3iQkNUM3AfbwRxGhw182lSeUNtjnOQShgQ/s2016/122188897_364502731656745_6957007261737995949_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib3Rz8p31XnAtkyFGsrMpw9Tkx5SxFSQav3lbcNVw0MiwJGm5lyRTtrXODEKz9Zqq1DX8SPwz9sEi_tSLXm3iC9nBM3MXlW6ns09-EGOZb3iQkNUM3AfbwRxGhw182lSeUNtjnOQShgQ/s320/122188897_364502731656745_6957007261737995949_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLURxhaAgKkxlHY9EVW6FBLeXNGDRsuQrEBDsqyHwrYs_hO0FBDFCK6wtJOWtjREGWTYdL1saAq_yr07EmJN_y4WAEH23GK9lESmn0L97TaB2tU6ktbYXl56vzu6evNXSYdHa_azH9iA/s1728/122184895_348218253132624_4085355633494113856_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLURxhaAgKkxlHY9EVW6FBLeXNGDRsuQrEBDsqyHwrYs_hO0FBDFCK6wtJOWtjREGWTYdL1saAq_yr07EmJN_y4WAEH23GK9lESmn0L97TaB2tU6ktbYXl56vzu6evNXSYdHa_azH9iA/s320/122184895_348218253132624_4085355633494113856_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Nx2b13eDHq50ATWRKx7ghBGurNKcuIQWlp6oo2a-VMkr6k5q3vJfaSVn3_sp6dNRz85KIqw957dPTIcJvKO5v_IOA9ejvYeHqWDH8vuntr_hlnAQ-co6ON7yDduuXbbr9C2BdUVPoA/s2016/122461402_454656525496879_3704863067381764409_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Nx2b13eDHq50ATWRKx7ghBGurNKcuIQWlp6oo2a-VMkr6k5q3vJfaSVn3_sp6dNRz85KIqw957dPTIcJvKO5v_IOA9ejvYeHqWDH8vuntr_hlnAQ-co6ON7yDduuXbbr9C2BdUVPoA/s320/122461402_454656525496879_3704863067381764409_n.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ZSDKnQh9VDv1ZOBfx8fLKC0mhfPYMNuEJWSZpAxBGL8VZat4veXGjy_VCt9xBUv5TqE3i7m1WDrnaRHxbBK5tegGdQNrG8vtVBmdwgQblqrSrQQQFxauH-df6HxAs2VjK_cgarfbpw/s2016/122169392_671971330398126_6606920861471639974_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ZSDKnQh9VDv1ZOBfx8fLKC0mhfPYMNuEJWSZpAxBGL8VZat4veXGjy_VCt9xBUv5TqE3i7m1WDrnaRHxbBK5tegGdQNrG8vtVBmdwgQblqrSrQQQFxauH-df6HxAs2VjK_cgarfbpw/s320/122169392_671971330398126_6606920861471639974_n.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">God has given our family a new life this fall too--making me an aunt for the first time! My brother and his wife welcomed my nephew in September, Molly's first cousin on ether side of the family. We're so excited for another Grove in the world! I'm sure there will be plenty more written about this wonderful little nugget, but for now, I'll just leave you with his adorable face 😘</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3GLj7mxQfyKKvYUl6__iqTrRNEqIZRXAYCtHU0U0AQyAPBoDWltjvDG0weG5mLkxXAqaqOfbGuhL1RzOMDM3nf7153JSHPXDnHt99-K_FnZk4Ie6-U-rfUpn2gFzmXgkhhe3Zs3tBTA/s800/JD.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3GLj7mxQfyKKvYUl6__iqTrRNEqIZRXAYCtHU0U0AQyAPBoDWltjvDG0weG5mLkxXAqaqOfbGuhL1RzOMDM3nf7153JSHPXDnHt99-K_FnZk4Ie6-U-rfUpn2gFzmXgkhhe3Zs3tBTA/s320/JD.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Smoke from forest fires in the mountains continue to billow overhead many days, so when the sky is clear and the mountains are "out", its a real treat! On those days, we are seeing just how beautiful fall is in Colorado. Between the changing trees, the snowy mountain peaks, and the amazing weather, Colorado is really starting to capture my heart!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAhslFuREIyxkK5OLQhULcDSU5XBRtBKrMHQ6zZOt7Y5OkASjYrKnX4Zncx6wnKV96TejgLxl0Beq1N-aFh3kzM3NAogaZWK-vNxsv9NH_dEATCvzVTjJGRZwMYweenxRvrX3Zuy1iTQ/s2016/122556247_2734627510136529_2208823245892679456_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAhslFuREIyxkK5OLQhULcDSU5XBRtBKrMHQ6zZOt7Y5OkASjYrKnX4Zncx6wnKV96TejgLxl0Beq1N-aFh3kzM3NAogaZWK-vNxsv9NH_dEATCvzVTjJGRZwMYweenxRvrX3Zuy1iTQ/s320/122556247_2734627510136529_2208823245892679456_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX-vQlNFoks_hfD98JyvclqBDPx5Ms-bBkZoTqffj3ljrJzDAcpWCaTkXO5LT4XxlNkcHs_9MNQTarO85P6YOgq_KZYtmxf9pf5pXxaqh5rcCu-hVTs40U00QFWVRFUVUfBnM26JJW8w/s2016/smoke.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX-vQlNFoks_hfD98JyvclqBDPx5Ms-bBkZoTqffj3ljrJzDAcpWCaTkXO5LT4XxlNkcHs_9MNQTarO85P6YOgq_KZYtmxf9pf5pXxaqh5rcCu-hVTs40U00QFWVRFUVUfBnM26JJW8w/s320/smoke.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCenUvV9wPv9OeHnAyH6tjsreSR2vhyphenhyphennjbxTEZtPrTCHOLB7DBy046S1wtGfxG5wty5O7vMHuYOQ8TCgFx1o-qR6Xxv7Lm5LPyiSjz8wbcMV_Rx9NsiOupYHQF2VyMJlQ7uljrN8jzww/s2016/122286272_346573193104209_600953100855136903_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCenUvV9wPv9OeHnAyH6tjsreSR2vhyphenhyphennjbxTEZtPrTCHOLB7DBy046S1wtGfxG5wty5O7vMHuYOQ8TCgFx1o-qR6Xxv7Lm5LPyiSjz8wbcMV_Rx9NsiOupYHQF2VyMJlQ7uljrN8jzww/s320/122286272_346573193104209_600953100855136903_n.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5x2rmmDZH1v8sqiNkxXEZbpFh7rDonoEw_1TDAV4CiIx-WlqN6zexteu0HGGRGe4XwO61D9qxIqNUvkCvWIi3fCE6jK6j7BHjlqPDE7TdSucrAwwoIBoHVymbV_GWBjDMsqxPESNXFA/s2016/122408439_804140173683809_5521902308155273254_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5x2rmmDZH1v8sqiNkxXEZbpFh7rDonoEw_1TDAV4CiIx-WlqN6zexteu0HGGRGe4XwO61D9qxIqNUvkCvWIi3fCE6jK6j7BHjlqPDE7TdSucrAwwoIBoHVymbV_GWBjDMsqxPESNXFA/s320/122408439_804140173683809_5521902308155273254_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Molly and I made it to a pumpkin farm this October with some new friends we've made, and it was so fun. Even though the smoke was so thick by the end of the afternoon it nearly choked us, it was a perfect fall day before that! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLQjDVayX01FrDilp3_baJ-MmqPbVtDaIvYqWUzjF0JzwhUdQOvJRIjnJZuU1yfyNamTHLUKWr9ChP-KSGiOMx4zwK5TlH8T_SrGHQYgwqoNPV8BFrxCB6NbY07nEC6xWI7X6skAMQgA/s2016/122173556_2768929146759634_8759218032670171243_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLQjDVayX01FrDilp3_baJ-MmqPbVtDaIvYqWUzjF0JzwhUdQOvJRIjnJZuU1yfyNamTHLUKWr9ChP-KSGiOMx4zwK5TlH8T_SrGHQYgwqoNPV8BFrxCB6NbY07nEC6xWI7X6skAMQgA/s320/122173556_2768929146759634_8759218032670171243_n.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfKnSWojGEvzyJpsJbQQcKuL8GzRoXSH3ZxBhy5URDNyT7h0-V-pwelcvGwvSsOWJlqpyEfgUjYggQTq7FafX0gsgQQDr_ho7qrhx6W8tFdwvjxV-WeC_8nQeJ9X7jVXXH1v1t0JMPnw/s1824/122328187_3319797568068799_2019715068728655776_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="1368" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfKnSWojGEvzyJpsJbQQcKuL8GzRoXSH3ZxBhy5URDNyT7h0-V-pwelcvGwvSsOWJlqpyEfgUjYggQTq7FafX0gsgQQDr_ho7qrhx6W8tFdwvjxV-WeC_8nQeJ9X7jVXXH1v1t0JMPnw/s320/122328187_3319797568068799_2019715068728655776_n.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This time of year is so wonderful, it's my second favorite season. But it is also a hard season ever since Halloween Eve of 2016 when we were absolutely crushed by the news that Drew would "probably not be a long term survivor". </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Unless you've been in that position, I don't think you can quite grasp how absolutely awful it feels to watch your toddler son enjoy the leaves, the fall parks, and Halloween, knowing it will be for the last time. I remember feeling sick, heart sick, trying to enjoy the moment and not wanting it to end.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMaNy4NsdBSaMK5Jt5WhpU5ua6TEJqq7hBbU54c0cwkTsYOGqpC910KgxPLGaS7iAdv4lK-z1lachhZj_kISt7GlLIuyMmWB8_WIo2muigKZdHZ-kyEAYrLOsloD9PH8MVDxVzQFwZmA/s960/bothinleaves.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="656" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMaNy4NsdBSaMK5Jt5WhpU5ua6TEJqq7hBbU54c0cwkTsYOGqpC910KgxPLGaS7iAdv4lK-z1lachhZj_kISt7GlLIuyMmWB8_WIo2muigKZdHZ-kyEAYrLOsloD9PH8MVDxVzQFwZmA/s320/bothinleaves.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEwnwAgVLE-eYo2JuHc54VQR-P-RBQ6__JBUBw3AUJv4iI2mdhJlpLmgcTa8ciVhgadzmLqvWYDwtN-AdvN0KolktMlIYSjnbR4S2nyJPKCGlzDJnKp-S9lQDxpHwSqRgPtRFWjzgwSQ/s960/leaves2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEwnwAgVLE-eYo2JuHc54VQR-P-RBQ6__JBUBw3AUJv4iI2mdhJlpLmgcTa8ciVhgadzmLqvWYDwtN-AdvN0KolktMlIYSjnbR4S2nyJPKCGlzDJnKp-S9lQDxpHwSqRgPtRFWjzgwSQ/s320/leaves2.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW7oUXPTEvkmGzLmLGTKxLmZnCTuKODsDVqPzdDF76fPFazhq4E-XMw6qygTZZkzQMjtH_ngsv6eTTSkHCHKTxMehkRAHs_MmSfGYwkOhfERaWnJG4XnHrb920LS_8ERwub2nj8cxjTA/s720/Gator.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="540" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW7oUXPTEvkmGzLmLGTKxLmZnCTuKODsDVqPzdDF76fPFazhq4E-XMw6qygTZZkzQMjtH_ngsv6eTTSkHCHKTxMehkRAHs_MmSfGYwkOhfERaWnJG4XnHrb920LS_8ERwub2nj8cxjTA/s320/Gator.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoqHxDGIsTiOx8kVyISbmkGTPBZ7m4XfSkwHwVORQfcppgmnrzDF_rdSeoxCqxW9b6v1LkP-5xclOv2hOB6FqSSo0983U9vYOCh6FfFKWf0RjJjswmcyQ-AxKsDyrNWcgPSItRESSW6g/s960/pumpkinpatch2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoqHxDGIsTiOx8kVyISbmkGTPBZ7m4XfSkwHwVORQfcppgmnrzDF_rdSeoxCqxW9b6v1LkP-5xclOv2hOB6FqSSo0983U9vYOCh6FfFKWf0RjJjswmcyQ-AxKsDyrNWcgPSItRESSW6g/s320/pumpkinpatch2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIcUSXD4fDog4fzAFiLb4AFDG0umeFOVbl7-DLTElaHVay5CA2BSziX3e8cM5q2O6NY0pENuk8_rrp3RJEQ4Q1YYDUKTG1GeFK7b2zrnvzDKhqBzWAe769Rigmktq3UmtGj3Vi99Rw7Q/s720/Trickortreat.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIcUSXD4fDog4fzAFiLb4AFDG0umeFOVbl7-DLTElaHVay5CA2BSziX3e8cM5q2O6NY0pENuk8_rrp3RJEQ4Q1YYDUKTG1GeFK7b2zrnvzDKhqBzWAe769Rigmktq3UmtGj3Vi99Rw7Q/s320/Trickortreat.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0E4d9dRScbczcUedxzjqnFYzzbQqC5WvWiLPCwbhUg32hPqiGO8TAzAk6-eM9WpejPxx83C4BqndJFvdoH7DoHe0kjWJen1dENiGqyuRZr2FLHUSOhoEWEDbaeBs11QC5hL3xAjEPpA/s960/swinging.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0E4d9dRScbczcUedxzjqnFYzzbQqC5WvWiLPCwbhUg32hPqiGO8TAzAk6-eM9WpejPxx83C4BqndJFvdoH7DoHe0kjWJen1dENiGqyuRZr2FLHUSOhoEWEDbaeBs11QC5hL3xAjEPpA/s320/swinging.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">As I sit here and look at his sweet face in these photos from our last fall together, and my eyes almost immediately fill with tears. The questions that I tried not to let dominate my thoughts four years ago, pop right back in today--how can such a precious child, full of life, be going to die? In the fall, all these questions and those feelings come back to haunt me. The disbelief, pain, and pleading for it not to be true, crash back in like a wave. I remember asking God, my heart already breaking, how will I ever get through it, what will I ever do without my Drew? </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Oh, how difficult it was to struggle to accept that news, this time of year 4 years ago. Because he was so full of life, so innocent and sweet. I found myself looking at my baby, who I would have done anything for, and realizing I could do nothing but hold his hand for the last 11 weeks we had him with us.</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Each fall as I wrestle with all of this, God reminds me how he can use the hard, ugly things for good. The vibrant colors and refreshing cool breeze that define fall displays His power to bring beauty into the dying. He reminds me how magnificent it was to watch Drew love, laugh and <i>live</i> until his last day. How much I learned from him, how much my faith grew, and how I continue to do both since. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As I sit here with those heart-wrenching questions in my head once again as I look at his sweet face, God also is reminding me of His faithfulness. Of how He never left my side, as I sat by Drew's. And by His power and strength, I <i>did</i> make it though what I never would have been able to on my own. Yes, my son did die, but we have found a way to not just exist without him with us, but really <i>live, </i>just like Drew did.<i> </i> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I guess this blog post recapping our last couple months shows that. I can find comfort, as this season brings back those painful memories of feeling completely helpless, that we are doing okay now, just 4 years later. Even better than okay! Getting out and seeing the country, making new memories filled with joy and love. I can have hope that whatever the future brings, God will continue to keep His promises of never abandoning us, and using all things for our ultimate good.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I wonder, how often does this same story play out? Something truly devastating happens, something that totally knocks the wind out of you. You wonder how you'll ever go on. But, you do. God can help you find your way again. And once you get going, you welcome joy back into your life. There's such a relief, a hope in that moment. You have a new found strength and confidence that you can get through hard things. That next time if you just hang in there, and trust in the Lord, better days will be ahead. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I have a feeling many of you have had this sequence happen in your life, and maybe even more will look back on 2020 and understand just what I mean. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There can be great beauty in the dying. There is hope in the middle of the storm. Just hang in there, relief is coming! Joy will return, and it'll be so sweet when it does. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKmZ_E10t-T28wIbZcWBmT9LnhA_XQn78ZMUh93NoUEyVI5AVIxE02o99qL9cq0eElVXmaS5rIqaSVG83E9fBIodIHmLkU9TiC5hmD-zkUoBqEcJeQWivHSloHxEDnM9LoE006o_0bsw/s2016/fall.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKmZ_E10t-T28wIbZcWBmT9LnhA_XQn78ZMUh93NoUEyVI5AVIxE02o99qL9cq0eElVXmaS5rIqaSVG83E9fBIodIHmLkU9TiC5hmD-zkUoBqEcJeQWivHSloHxEDnM9LoE006o_0bsw/s320/fall.jpg" /></a></div>Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-26633752739019454022020-08-27T16:30:00.002-05:002020-08-27T16:42:21.881-05:00Smoke<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9zl5tgqRnGe9o_CgTDJA70IX9ouESzoku4hWpSH3UO5UNQyIMXR6zA1CSRLcMWHxHI_okUkl048rNSZ1Rijj3lgtYRraChYwgMvu_C2c_Qh6kFHiM47BXuPeWM8s0_aEDP-hHXuni2A/s2016/118451816_2857403007826563_3299132870500523404_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9zl5tgqRnGe9o_CgTDJA70IX9ouESzoku4hWpSH3UO5UNQyIMXR6zA1CSRLcMWHxHI_okUkl048rNSZ1Rijj3lgtYRraChYwgMvu_C2c_Qh6kFHiM47BXuPeWM8s0_aEDP-hHXuni2A/s640/118451816_2857403007826563_3299132870500523404_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p><br /></p><p>It's been a while since I've written on here! The time has gone fast--I can't believe its been almost 4 months since we moved to Colorado. But at the same time, I'd say we do feel settled into our new home, and have found our "new normal", for now at least. </p><p>The last of the boxes are unpacked, each set of windows have been dressed, and the more immediate adjustments/improvements have been finished around the house. Like everything else this year, the process for transferring drivers licenses and car registration was complicated by COVID restrictions, but we finally got those done too!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7co4eZo8NHkRIdPniRsXEnxEOP1h7e9EhZlpSrG0HDLFFhqq80VUY4TNL2pCTWNXkOR-pEvUIvlc_mltFTI-C6BD9E3Z2QWIWLOHbZlW5-7veag0m94lQlOWSUcRuySneOx6znKGtvg/s2016/118520175_906194659789459_2850742663332600018_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7co4eZo8NHkRIdPniRsXEnxEOP1h7e9EhZlpSrG0HDLFFhqq80VUY4TNL2pCTWNXkOR-pEvUIvlc_mltFTI-C6BD9E3Z2QWIWLOHbZlW5-7veag0m94lQlOWSUcRuySneOx6znKGtvg/s640/118520175_906194659789459_2850742663332600018_n.jpg" /></a></div><p>So I guess it's officially official, we're Coloradoans now! We've been intentional about getting out and exploring our new state as much as we can this summer. Thank goodness this state is so outdoorsy, there's actually a lot we can still do! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy1DL27hg_5UI8L_ka7bhg7nx66VBt3q_6Uhcaw3rJAtzgW5AFmxx9vjmGvFqLaTATfiUh5QZZv7sCuT_k2gmION4jMekiDsirb5upN5UMF4VJk2ZSUifOHOCUpcDUHKHdSBexqUw4hA/s2016/118397666_644511782858290_391091969141291210_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy1DL27hg_5UI8L_ka7bhg7nx66VBt3q_6Uhcaw3rJAtzgW5AFmxx9vjmGvFqLaTATfiUh5QZZv7sCuT_k2gmION4jMekiDsirb5upN5UMF4VJk2ZSUifOHOCUpcDUHKHdSBexqUw4hA/s640/118397666_644511782858290_391091969141291210_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8OCCn5AAK5TqBQELqp560ENKkeXOK7utW9j2FIwdjzkdRuc3myjUyUEWms-7TtGnb9EeIundOXyeEZu44TcxmpYgmLF4-k-7dMWoOFpJKQYyb69X7x2huC2UUmSo19GH1L2WvdI77bQ/s1824/118405555_229677271741227_7829604665450927642_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1368" data-original-width="1824" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8OCCn5AAK5TqBQELqp560ENKkeXOK7utW9j2FIwdjzkdRuc3myjUyUEWms-7TtGnb9EeIundOXyeEZu44TcxmpYgmLF4-k-7dMWoOFpJKQYyb69X7x2huC2UUmSo19GH1L2WvdI77bQ/s640/118405555_229677271741227_7829604665450927642_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH8ZYaIoxUV1doZ5lNpuP4qiNJ7_HzIGeM18sMwXbkVuZAlVP41Rii6_XAbzyXZBl54hnHjB4_ZH-Y_8T7k1FoMrkT2rjDWY8iTHqkx6Ip1pbVbjQwlH7gNkrRZ5Ty-ntVCEtZbN42Vw/s2016/118406221_726556311266799_564254529912058595_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH8ZYaIoxUV1doZ5lNpuP4qiNJ7_HzIGeM18sMwXbkVuZAlVP41Rii6_XAbzyXZBl54hnHjB4_ZH-Y_8T7k1FoMrkT2rjDWY8iTHqkx6Ip1pbVbjQwlH7gNkrRZ5Ty-ntVCEtZbN42Vw/s640/118406221_726556311266799_564254529912058595_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCI02M4Ax9ooUfIzXmcBX9fpscKVcRBUnQJm5XqFBAy6Gr7ewvGPR3sdx0ih42r794gHTY4EKyApdUydg_yT01KfqwiH6I57mTJXVwMcrXyzbn8d6JTjjhn9unBRHGY1VaUhDrUPwRMw/s2016/118520175_636501920595450_5885122724493204262_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCI02M4Ax9ooUfIzXmcBX9fpscKVcRBUnQJm5XqFBAy6Gr7ewvGPR3sdx0ih42r794gHTY4EKyApdUydg_yT01KfqwiH6I57mTJXVwMcrXyzbn8d6JTjjhn9unBRHGY1VaUhDrUPwRMw/s640/118520175_636501920595450_5885122724493204262_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiocHCGnyaHo1Ui3se-gWbTitJI4mRDEk9WxeARFrRt8l-RUTzcI-z4nFHW48o1hFUVXgCRgOj_rizSg7ge9jLId2Ep36mMEgAadGr2fXiKV-ZvOLAtmI2VAoFhsAph_fiFScSyfbCJkw/s2016/118442368_642700573331860_5174556668640039893_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiocHCGnyaHo1Ui3se-gWbTitJI4mRDEk9WxeARFrRt8l-RUTzcI-z4nFHW48o1hFUVXgCRgOj_rizSg7ge9jLId2Ep36mMEgAadGr2fXiKV-ZvOLAtmI2VAoFhsAph_fiFScSyfbCJkw/s640/118442368_642700573331860_5174556668640039893_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX14amTGe0oDJeluzB6NiLZaiJBkV39vbUj8nDO5r_rIDg5WehDP0S35z3R2o_OdOqI-w_2W2xl62vwlcvcYr5epiV-uP-z64-UaFDigQJacIGEGUSHi9Otqzru50l3pyPCCQeN9Xz0A/s2016/118584047_4166777733392272_8554072685847823727_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX14amTGe0oDJeluzB6NiLZaiJBkV39vbUj8nDO5r_rIDg5WehDP0S35z3R2o_OdOqI-w_2W2xl62vwlcvcYr5epiV-uP-z64-UaFDigQJacIGEGUSHi9Otqzru50l3pyPCCQeN9Xz0A/s640/118584047_4166777733392272_8554072685847823727_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>We've found a favorite hiking spot near Boulder, that's easy enough for Molly to do, but still really cool. We've visited that spot a few times already! </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXOUhMokVisN3BH-08e9ZFFkDvAFOWSSSN1wBTVziI-WQllUDn6Wpie4pAhRnCfKtELnqDuEk0WRAurPRjDDCa1dHqT74aSfXfVIRUVQyy1tlGERBuXIia_RNHf00daLgx20YQAc58dw/s2016/118395137_312796659970392_2239009301828153347_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXOUhMokVisN3BH-08e9ZFFkDvAFOWSSSN1wBTVziI-WQllUDn6Wpie4pAhRnCfKtELnqDuEk0WRAurPRjDDCa1dHqT74aSfXfVIRUVQyy1tlGERBuXIia_RNHf00daLgx20YQAc58dw/s640/118395137_312796659970392_2239009301828153347_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiTG0zraUZW-BRtkvCmk8gS7nhFh4qnfiEb_CRsLqhvL0Dyysw-G1b5zTbUokBiunG3U6jYr1f48KrcuG0BKVDbbf4LOfQh0jP1t4WKIt-ss3Y-0Pha97FH5__KcJvhlc_Bgu1XCOSKQ/s2016/118400626_325192365505819_7120084162442889633_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiTG0zraUZW-BRtkvCmk8gS7nhFh4qnfiEb_CRsLqhvL0Dyysw-G1b5zTbUokBiunG3U6jYr1f48KrcuG0BKVDbbf4LOfQh0jP1t4WKIt-ss3Y-0Pha97FH5__KcJvhlc_Bgu1XCOSKQ/s640/118400626_325192365505819_7120084162442889633_n.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p>Including one very early morning. We decided it would be neat to see the sunrise in the mountains, so we set the alarm for 4:30AM. That would give us enough time to get to the trail and hike to the top by sunrise, which was just before 6. Molly wasn't too thrilled about the adventure, though. Specifically, she didn't want to get up early and miss her usual Saturday morning breakfast. But once we got out of the car, into the fresh air, and made it to the top *just* as the sun was making its way over the horizon, she admitted it was pretty awesome.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe3H5BcHFAEqmFtENymFLXXzxcRQya_umfMlclY-8_dKSyx6Nm2TKdZrZkjclfOpBaZl-UAr_5aQhwwOZWeB4qSzho77cd5OZkimp_Mrndb5yTqvT6HHo0aF-ke-K3xRKA-hh6iTTH9A/s2016/118462750_771226493632330_556054510136573663_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe3H5BcHFAEqmFtENymFLXXzxcRQya_umfMlclY-8_dKSyx6Nm2TKdZrZkjclfOpBaZl-UAr_5aQhwwOZWeB4qSzho77cd5OZkimp_Mrndb5yTqvT6HHo0aF-ke-K3xRKA-hh6iTTH9A/s640/118462750_771226493632330_556054510136573663_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQvi0tAv5fr-I5eUrEPA2VpBkJYh52Jj3z4iAtGpUavSO4F3jikY_kDcB4kHsMtTdAEsIVo3lWvip53c3beVNRZYq2QaWk1WMTgUFxXptllC_r47p7EcCzZyT5pES_m_fh-qlGWBxDg/s2016/118552834_2646440422236956_7911642059144544955_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQvi0tAv5fr-I5eUrEPA2VpBkJYh52Jj3z4iAtGpUavSO4F3jikY_kDcB4kHsMtTdAEsIVo3lWvip53c3beVNRZYq2QaWk1WMTgUFxXptllC_r47p7EcCzZyT5pES_m_fh-qlGWBxDg/s640/118552834_2646440422236956_7911642059144544955_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWKX_meZMD3oIyPt4I4X8Dpzgb2i6QUlLNiixkVs4W_ufHqUtd-MgXAdQIaOcnV64l4AzEu6c_5Qp0XJ2mhGOMID5MxdsKbw7IkEofBtpQv9XCratecB6rlg9uv7QM74U3gYgwwktxnw/s2016/118397908_618753635702124_9202305454939840227_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWKX_meZMD3oIyPt4I4X8Dpzgb2i6QUlLNiixkVs4W_ufHqUtd-MgXAdQIaOcnV64l4AzEu6c_5Qp0XJ2mhGOMID5MxdsKbw7IkEofBtpQv9XCratecB6rlg9uv7QM74U3gYgwwktxnw/s640/118397908_618753635702124_9202305454939840227_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8SFaOkijRQNbRO77yKdmkyd-wbT-QffoBwrJGAerHkpgr3PvbGT9c2qW6GKDtpJRB9qYhulE1lA8fd5ICgciyVOOsdeY52VfIrsREm0XhPPkvwvi5heWJcen14CjIjdUvau0uzJ8xzw/s2016/118471393_3475538745842299_3167318401825395110_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8SFaOkijRQNbRO77yKdmkyd-wbT-QffoBwrJGAerHkpgr3PvbGT9c2qW6GKDtpJRB9qYhulE1lA8fd5ICgciyVOOsdeY52VfIrsREm0XhPPkvwvi5heWJcen14CjIjdUvau0uzJ8xzw/s640/118471393_3475538745842299_3167318401825395110_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p>The light from the sunrise gave everything a pink glow, like a great filter--but real! The cool and piney-smelling, early-morning air pleasantly woke up our bodies. Stillness and peace seemed to fill the vast open space. It was a wonderful morning, that we all agreed Drew was enjoying too, right there with us. It wasn't awesome to get up so early, but it worth it, for the amazing views and experience of doing something different and special together. </p><p>Many things are like that, aren't they? Most things that are amazing cost us something. We have to work for, sacrifice, give up things in order to gain something even greater. Before the payoff, you question whether it's worth it. But after it's over, you know the struggle only adds to the value of the reward...</p><p><br /></p><p>We found more typical things to fill the long days of summer as well. Molly and I scouted out the best splash pads (that are open) and beat the heat from the hot Colorado sun. And recently we've signed up for time slots at our Rec Center's indoor aquatic area. We've even started a new tradition, getting 7 Eleven slurpees on Fridays!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSrgIsUlph6bY1GCGRUxhBMHhVMLg0utj0w2G5j75kKXmeKwtXQ_rskM_xeXaoGKR9c4vqnnSLbcbx9mfrzDmuXK20mizrmenUE1_8tHWHi5AB4d774Wm7yrjLD8v3r3h8sjX9hKw8_w/s2016/118622163_3011777068945417_7441129692657826497_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSrgIsUlph6bY1GCGRUxhBMHhVMLg0utj0w2G5j75kKXmeKwtXQ_rskM_xeXaoGKR9c4vqnnSLbcbx9mfrzDmuXK20mizrmenUE1_8tHWHi5AB4d774Wm7yrjLD8v3r3h8sjX9hKw8_w/s640/118622163_3011777068945417_7441129692657826497_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6CQg6iB446Uerm-qUrSnuulsd-ZRXYADUFTLZhTfVAyTue7EErCxsOdbJ3jccoFQsTW1L4YaC08KKc6isJ60PhZEN23VKtys2xsBAnMxv2tDsdNeOIvgqRju06vCP-NkgpIVwZD4xrA/s2016/118374521_980712962341228_8833813508588569178_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6CQg6iB446Uerm-qUrSnuulsd-ZRXYADUFTLZhTfVAyTue7EErCxsOdbJ3jccoFQsTW1L4YaC08KKc6isJ60PhZEN23VKtys2xsBAnMxv2tDsdNeOIvgqRju06vCP-NkgpIVwZD4xrA/s640/118374521_980712962341228_8833813508588569178_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYUuXpMi5ClP5KbiAdz-8260AepdBYdKzmw9NFRGu6jxlyUraQ4tI6d9Ak6JV33gZY1lCohkzNeUBmStcA8mZTx966ARyI31QFTEuKVGs9BK1b9L2lR22wN_0NA2KCl97az3_kH1iUtQ/s1840/118347008_317494349484075_5304936758208093724_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1840" data-original-width="1380" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYUuXpMi5ClP5KbiAdz-8260AepdBYdKzmw9NFRGu6jxlyUraQ4tI6d9Ak6JV33gZY1lCohkzNeUBmStcA8mZTx966ARyI31QFTEuKVGs9BK1b9L2lR22wN_0NA2KCl97az3_kH1iUtQ/s640/118347008_317494349484075_5304936758208093724_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>We celebrated the 4th of July with my family who all live just an hour north of us.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY64mlkW2Rnm3QijfANMdxgaUj-Z8lem_b0S_b1-e7W4mKnKN8UcUd4tHHBg_gOeviod11Jx9ozU2vjhQEA4UW9bIsXTxyQFdKI-qcuHHvLUlJxFTxS_tyGGAvF4PIgrHVhaROdoDdtg/s1829/118486020_343848286804735_8893468106899786507_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1034" data-original-width="1829" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY64mlkW2Rnm3QijfANMdxgaUj-Z8lem_b0S_b1-e7W4mKnKN8UcUd4tHHBg_gOeviod11Jx9ozU2vjhQEA4UW9bIsXTxyQFdKI-qcuHHvLUlJxFTxS_tyGGAvF4PIgrHVhaROdoDdtg/s640/118486020_343848286804735_8893468106899786507_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>The local church we've been streaming held a kid's day camp also in July! Even though it didn't look or feel like our usual summer VBS (masks, limited groups, and only 2 days of the week), it was still something!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQOyTxodNaynjIPNKnLFaQVvymsGGbhdA-CmaE_ysN9Eip37hywrxL4Emu-gRkAniBZYDO6nw9vr4K2_Mk6reJa5iyUPx6LKyJCfP60rkGEX_mLNojY1r8Y2a1Cfy8HuqwHH6VF1wHYw/s2016/118567999_3503988856318728_3603841793866823241_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQOyTxodNaynjIPNKnLFaQVvymsGGbhdA-CmaE_ysN9Eip37hywrxL4Emu-gRkAniBZYDO6nw9vr4K2_Mk6reJa5iyUPx6LKyJCfP60rkGEX_mLNojY1r8Y2a1Cfy8HuqwHH6VF1wHYw/s640/118567999_3503988856318728_3603841793866823241_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>We also drove back to Iowa to visit family. It was the first time spending extended time with both sides of our families since before COVID in March. We visited Coon Rapids, Emmetsburg, and Ames in a one week round trip.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWkhgfZ9xge-mN3I1K1nSyo9DFgy-WnKQag1szmx2rX27FTh2gv9yuXtf6XVZ70I5BkhTwvh7pfWwQbTlExSu38XD40xsgyHedrcIlnt0903L5YzGliltjp-8kUTQd0NEQ0hy2Ucav1Q/s2016/118409279_624127351578144_4131138970807104072_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWkhgfZ9xge-mN3I1K1nSyo9DFgy-WnKQag1szmx2rX27FTh2gv9yuXtf6XVZ70I5BkhTwvh7pfWwQbTlExSu38XD40xsgyHedrcIlnt0903L5YzGliltjp-8kUTQd0NEQ0hy2Ucav1Q/s640/118409279_624127351578144_4131138970807104072_n.jpg" /></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioZuK4jy57mXtQ6410tcsaMln0bPpfrABJZw36wCxZyGzP7rkUAR7JtzlF4Ccoko55eP-Tt6WjlXFIXq1CabhTDRyA6dWTUb0q_4h36Uz0QSbu-icYrS87Zgtdb3g2CLXcP2W0XQmbLA/s2016/118365209_430252044602937_6950364706758012263_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioZuK4jy57mXtQ6410tcsaMln0bPpfrABJZw36wCxZyGzP7rkUAR7JtzlF4Ccoko55eP-Tt6WjlXFIXq1CabhTDRyA6dWTUb0q_4h36Uz0QSbu-icYrS87Zgtdb3g2CLXcP2W0XQmbLA/s640/118365209_430252044602937_6950364706758012263_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGThG7snzzdgl9ZW0pen7U7UALXO_ggQ-viKVY5GoabFo9S1RV8JE-_T5V4xKpT0n4vJPUpCknSuRWaXhMpHz2FxKHZq4fIFuNREwnn37Abp9Ieukkgfo3b0kO5M_-sf-IfbqWCQNFww/s2016/118378167_948396318972440_959403436372410166_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGThG7snzzdgl9ZW0pen7U7UALXO_ggQ-viKVY5GoabFo9S1RV8JE-_T5V4xKpT0n4vJPUpCknSuRWaXhMpHz2FxKHZq4fIFuNREwnn37Abp9Ieukkgfo3b0kO5M_-sf-IfbqWCQNFww/s640/118378167_948396318972440_959403436372410166_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfYfTven_ER5N9-WR9K_xLn7B0Ehj7e204dW5b5gG_e2AVzIKl3tLJj83NHHx1vD1ETfsbxPIcngf76DUBUxw-3zhOFnu4HxysMHlSdSYiU9g4AeGbfE-MnYl0r2nL_V66Tp34p2N-A/s2016/118518857_699116023973593_8441460113052291399_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfYfTven_ER5N9-WR9K_xLn7B0Ehj7e204dW5b5gG_e2AVzIKl3tLJj83NHHx1vD1ETfsbxPIcngf76DUBUxw-3zhOFnu4HxysMHlSdSYiU9g4AeGbfE-MnYl0r2nL_V66Tp34p2N-A/s640/118518857_699116023973593_8441460113052291399_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlVfpUcaJVcSHAtnTH9x6Q-zVsGRCA3qhMe0efBM4vh35Su_RrI49YT6WUQGymYZbwvZQnNcu-w6GweV06RHAHmJNEVOTKtEfjj6H-itJbThV_PegiEWqRKIdCGMxGnKtJvTCfNh17Eg/s800/118645307_622120618741028_5665910591688763370_n+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlVfpUcaJVcSHAtnTH9x6Q-zVsGRCA3qhMe0efBM4vh35Su_RrI49YT6WUQGymYZbwvZQnNcu-w6GweV06RHAHmJNEVOTKtEfjj6H-itJbThV_PegiEWqRKIdCGMxGnKtJvTCfNh17Eg/s640/118645307_622120618741028_5665910591688763370_n+%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaK5-3Ll0yKlDSM-1YUjMvX8HdjxR2IrwqEwvr6YOOvVq8hrmztg5gavmHkOOMrB0sdPtJP_MQ6UqHAXR_sq4HwMFMHY_h-yTvzfa5v1vvJPZyLV3ylM0zI4Np0pVpbjtJxrEX-X_yTg/s2016/118368942_313720586508930_6178298582498051829_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaK5-3Ll0yKlDSM-1YUjMvX8HdjxR2IrwqEwvr6YOOvVq8hrmztg5gavmHkOOMrB0sdPtJP_MQ6UqHAXR_sq4HwMFMHY_h-yTvzfa5v1vvJPZyLV3ylM0zI4Np0pVpbjtJxrEX-X_yTg/s640/118368942_313720586508930_6178298582498051829_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>Then Molly and I took a trip back to Austin, Minnesota, to attend to some Warrior Wagon work, but just as much to connect with old friends in town. And if I'm honest, just to *be* in the town we'll always consider home. It was such a great time for both of us to reunite with our family of friends that were such a huge part of our lives--and still are! Funny how there is always more pictures of kids than adults...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx6jDDZHVNOe2RfNA2fld1dceEOHxvp7SVznjSUB2ncCFBGqbxQFQ27YOu3flhZoaKexI7KvfP4MzOgNsePdE-2EcM0X-Qh8AAoCz6iwNTIyL3WGVLA7UBVHEk2NHyW-9Z-OAqQUCyvQ/s2016/118557538_947578035653596_755629728515131790_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx6jDDZHVNOe2RfNA2fld1dceEOHxvp7SVznjSUB2ncCFBGqbxQFQ27YOu3flhZoaKexI7KvfP4MzOgNsePdE-2EcM0X-Qh8AAoCz6iwNTIyL3WGVLA7UBVHEk2NHyW-9Z-OAqQUCyvQ/s640/118557538_947578035653596_755629728515131790_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr_3BFUaEegedkQKMs1qYb0xQqtRaNchLjmR4um6JWTglJ1jEmMwurkp7MzfPjo_b5WecSS_kNKgHom2Jrx40CIgLOOtwdRAGMmxJH5QRuPbhp9eONqum6GhxMBmxZ5_rACOzA9bTKbA/s2016/118509397_1085272475200685_7214690858469207344_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr_3BFUaEegedkQKMs1qYb0xQqtRaNchLjmR4um6JWTglJ1jEmMwurkp7MzfPjo_b5WecSS_kNKgHom2Jrx40CIgLOOtwdRAGMmxJH5QRuPbhp9eONqum6GhxMBmxZ5_rACOzA9bTKbA/s640/118509397_1085272475200685_7214690858469207344_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2AStMGzmrQ9F9O653BMMDAy-UfUjSVZ1nDri6CW_ADt4d2C7l9ebPKGLQcGjKV_DYV6nB0Ve6p6wWMSB3K3AOnXxz6wtA-ZNvn5M0CJk3uf28W9N_cn-jKIi_5KeDWAjNxYnOXfDSOA/s1824/118462749_312220076556675_3250898447912981082_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1368" data-original-width="1824" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2AStMGzmrQ9F9O653BMMDAy-UfUjSVZ1nDri6CW_ADt4d2C7l9ebPKGLQcGjKV_DYV6nB0Ve6p6wWMSB3K3AOnXxz6wtA-ZNvn5M0CJk3uf28W9N_cn-jKIi_5KeDWAjNxYnOXfDSOA/s640/118462749_312220076556675_3250898447912981082_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiubvXMimlLLinedxhU1Hs0bPOYoYuTCS6UYlJNYHbGJPCDjIozu2HBUjk4EpqU4mXvW4jH2oTeZj-_f78n-YowyOfvjz8H6tHanFM5Nw14fQCdsM6bsWjX8uNflP0CPs8O00OgI6Nwug/s960/118488876_849699928895629_3910108115499219985_n+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="734" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiubvXMimlLLinedxhU1Hs0bPOYoYuTCS6UYlJNYHbGJPCDjIozu2HBUjk4EpqU4mXvW4jH2oTeZj-_f78n-YowyOfvjz8H6tHanFM5Nw14fQCdsM6bsWjX8uNflP0CPs8O00OgI6Nwug/s640/118488876_849699928895629_3910108115499219985_n+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHI09Ph277WzgEavzOl3QUoHVkUso4LVWsWNCLUNpOZbH2mqcasDivxmLj8aMTLXJMMZk7p26hP4R-B5iIVAFOK-ZqqSwQMqLH0MtYBhM9JTkSEVdESjr6FxPt37oMZ8KlDQdjltut7A/s2016/118463983_851439135260513_1518965205061710810_n+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHI09Ph277WzgEavzOl3QUoHVkUso4LVWsWNCLUNpOZbH2mqcasDivxmLj8aMTLXJMMZk7p26hP4R-B5iIVAFOK-ZqqSwQMqLH0MtYBhM9JTkSEVdESjr6FxPt37oMZ8KlDQdjltut7A/s640/118463983_851439135260513_1518965205061710810_n+%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>My family came to visit after our Minnesota trip, so we hosted house guests for the first time! It was wonderful to have them, and got us a little more confident in our new home as we took them to some of our favorite places so far and enjoy some local eats!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQGbCxJ2Y0KLfNRlQGg87m5Hmggg7PtmArfqGeVbhP9UWaxH9A95uDBS02OJWaHpw9my-7zvD_td1dlWSNSZ_BTsiBKSSHWm5iHe3dD-WDGKYTgp0ibnPixbB5xpbUuePslQ-D7CtgxA/s2016/118592840_302694514356701_1715340425355268497_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQGbCxJ2Y0KLfNRlQGg87m5Hmggg7PtmArfqGeVbhP9UWaxH9A95uDBS02OJWaHpw9my-7zvD_td1dlWSNSZ_BTsiBKSSHWm5iHe3dD-WDGKYTgp0ibnPixbB5xpbUuePslQ-D7CtgxA/s640/118592840_302694514356701_1715340425355268497_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-e0digwLtkgFIuoz-y3XF59XjzrlsRHCl5ouUDYCz1wlqwjpxCVtQsWX4x0OzKErYFvyihoFKxmGzNIsbOD-wrrswhqgup-rnn5PRoKpUpN0lCZwKr_mHeSyroYbgusUQONW-fqdSpg/s2016/118507889_2712147812333702_1971587253872509452_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-e0digwLtkgFIuoz-y3XF59XjzrlsRHCl5ouUDYCz1wlqwjpxCVtQsWX4x0OzKErYFvyihoFKxmGzNIsbOD-wrrswhqgup-rnn5PRoKpUpN0lCZwKr_mHeSyroYbgusUQONW-fqdSpg/s640/118507889_2712147812333702_1971587253872509452_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ5eW3EoW09o75un-pRIMMoLjYvkY0y-nosLYsgdb5gyGAYuKaP6bJdNrtkBCr4nsT2HtOG2PkmE5CWkBIZOzooyywk9NwAhj48iMIQDAn_7lD9DxFvELLp-JKi0lor7vOTZQiZ19TZA/s2016/118567456_762330884561048_7797646228993530757_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1504" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ5eW3EoW09o75un-pRIMMoLjYvkY0y-nosLYsgdb5gyGAYuKaP6bJdNrtkBCr4nsT2HtOG2PkmE5CWkBIZOzooyywk9NwAhj48iMIQDAn_7lD9DxFvELLp-JKi0lor7vOTZQiZ19TZA/s640/118567456_762330884561048_7797646228993530757_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6_uiqMYIDo-9MDkS3Ece5Vllo2HukFqjatbHJ8Kmjgr_6j4OA-GkAWWpYb8v8lhLBxp9xZF6N58DkX-55t4-ddiHipxH6fyQt5-EjO5sFOXsa5f8rgGalh0xSQhnzKXHfwWxF1d9StA/s1840/118379174_316949036053979_4733771947127995449_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1840" data-original-width="1376" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6_uiqMYIDo-9MDkS3Ece5Vllo2HukFqjatbHJ8Kmjgr_6j4OA-GkAWWpYb8v8lhLBxp9xZF6N58DkX-55t4-ddiHipxH6fyQt5-EjO5sFOXsa5f8rgGalh0xSQhnzKXHfwWxF1d9StA/s640/118379174_316949036053979_4733771947127995449_n.jpg" /></a></div><p>And we are slowly but surely making some connections in the community. We've met some really kind and friendly moms and kids at the splash pad, parks, and even at garage sales! It's a start, and we're thankful for each new person in our circle. We hope to expand that circle as our church has finally opened its doors, and some activities are started to get scheduled again for fall. Please keep praying for us on this front! </p><p><br /></p><p>Gee. When I sat down to start this post, I was planning to write about how different summer was this year, how we aren't getting to do most of the things we had planned, or that we normally do. But now, I'm not sure that's true. We had fun in the sun, cool treats, some travel, many new adventures, a VBS week of sorts....Yes, 2020 has of course been different than we expected, but I guess there was some normalcy to it after all. It was just a little different this year. </p><p>I guess like all situations, 2020 is what you make it. Which doesn't mean we can't be disappointed, frustrated and even angry at times, but that we don't let those feelings get the best of us. You don't allow the situation to have any more power in your life than it already does. It's within our capacity to not let those negative feelings take over our experience of life, and steal the joy that IS there, if we choose to embrace it. All the while, doing what we can to make it better.</p><p><br /></p><p>I'm writing all this to myself, as much as to you all as we transition into fall. Molly's school changed the re-opening plan twice, eventually having the school year start in an all-remote setting until at least the first of October. It's certainly not what we were hoping for as we're really needing to meet people and make some friends.</p><p>But her and I, after acknowledging our feelings of frustration and disappointment, discussed how we can make the best of it. What we can do to have the best experience for what it is. So on the first day, we were careful to make sure we had all the apps downloaded, username and passwords ready. We had her class station set up and ready to go. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYbh6IGuwcpbNMQFifgM6kmiTMDSibOwtHQdZ-E_2yt0nTMNX0B2bZruVlWS2QGM52IqhSQnGAO1XJlr3B6Nv18X5qxYwHBbPufWbIh1chuFO4LajwOJOpcJ_bgX9GcsZsywEGZyxkmg/s1826/118521629_306775360424607_1719094409516846926_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1826" data-original-width="1294" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYbh6IGuwcpbNMQFifgM6kmiTMDSibOwtHQdZ-E_2yt0nTMNX0B2bZruVlWS2QGM52IqhSQnGAO1XJlr3B6Nv18X5qxYwHBbPufWbIh1chuFO4LajwOJOpcJ_bgX9GcsZsywEGZyxkmg/s640/118521629_306775360424607_1719094409516846926_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigbT9VZWbIe_tlI2nKgiMqX5s_Omh9QnYOnT6qlH6Yc2vVZo6BOQuCkdB5VXQR7uJ9nL_xEJnfGJaJicB9nDxRKlD7ocYJO-vQCUV_0eoU82OExWRS-y11Mu-S-VlaU3Q4uZ_9xb0IHw/s1668/118368053_353944615613391_7121481512404740442_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1668" data-original-width="1368" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigbT9VZWbIe_tlI2nKgiMqX5s_Omh9QnYOnT6qlH6Yc2vVZo6BOQuCkdB5VXQR7uJ9nL_xEJnfGJaJicB9nDxRKlD7ocYJO-vQCUV_0eoU82OExWRS-y11Mu-S-VlaU3Q4uZ_9xb0IHw/s640/118368053_353944615613391_7121481512404740442_n.jpg" /></a></div><p>First days of school may always be emotional for me. Not just because of how much more grown up Molly looks every year, but because of the empty space that will always be beside her. There should be two Becker kids on that step. Third and first graders this year. How much more grown up would Drew have looked? My heart can only ask, and wait for the answer in another life...</p><p>But so far, so good! She's able to navigate between "classrooms" and keep up with the discussions. She is completing the independent work, and even doing a pretty good job managing her time. While we pray that this arrangement isn't forever, I'm encouraged that we're off to a good start.</p><p>Josh is still working from home also, so we're just one big happy remote family :) And really, it is going very well. We all are genuinely happy here, despite everything. And this week I've been able to work on things while everyone is occupied in their respective work stations. Getting caught up around the house, yard, and also some Warrior Wagons work. </p><p>All three branches of Warrior Wagons are seeing a spike in new pediatric cancer diagnosis, and we've been scrambling to keep up! Between making sure the coordinators are stocked up with supplies, corresponding with staff at the hospitals to update procedures due to the pandemic, and fielding messages from families and supporters, Warrior Wagons really is becoming a part time job! Which I say with great satisfaction. There's not many other things and people I'd rather be giving my time to. And it brings my Drew into my days again in a very real and meaningful way 💗 </p><p><br /></p><p>Maybe you've heard, there are several big forest fires in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. You can smell it in the air, and see the smoke as a haze in the sky. Ash has even been settling on the cars parked outside overnight! We could see the smoke billowing up from the area of one of the bigger fires at sunset earlier this month:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh40R4cWJV2fzXAHgkJnty7DEUhgWPpIQiONefKHmyo3wCUKk-BKIfNbou8e-ka1nD2MIy4xP6Q6703lLUfmYhURSY4CURUhw495ndCeifSOV-G9EZQRINw0zj4zZEFhRBsPmKu0lDC5A/s2016/118523117_734163570756496_3461125705743843776_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh40R4cWJV2fzXAHgkJnty7DEUhgWPpIQiONefKHmyo3wCUKk-BKIfNbou8e-ka1nD2MIy4xP6Q6703lLUfmYhURSY4CURUhw495ndCeifSOV-G9EZQRINw0zj4zZEFhRBsPmKu0lDC5A/s640/118523117_734163570756496_3461125705743843776_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Besides being in the air, the smoke has shrouded the mountains. At first, it just gave them a hazy look. Then you could barely see their outline through the smoke. And for the past few weeks, they are almost completely out of view. <p></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9zl5tgqRnGe9o_CgTDJA70IX9ouESzoku4hWpSH3UO5UNQyIMXR6zA1CSRLcMWHxHI_okUkl048rNSZ1Rijj3lgtYRraChYwgMvu_C2c_Qh6kFHiM47BXuPeWM8s0_aEDP-hHXuni2A/s2016/118451816_2857403007826563_3299132870500523404_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9zl5tgqRnGe9o_CgTDJA70IX9ouESzoku4hWpSH3UO5UNQyIMXR6zA1CSRLcMWHxHI_okUkl048rNSZ1Rijj3lgtYRraChYwgMvu_C2c_Qh6kFHiM47BXuPeWM8s0_aEDP-hHXuni2A/s640/118451816_2857403007826563_3299132870500523404_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p>Its so weird to stare at where the mountains should be, where you know they are, but not see them. Most days lately it just looks blank, like an extension of the hazy sky. Like we're back in the Midwest!</p><p> But I know they're there, they haven't moved. They are so much bigger, more solid then the smoke. Yet, the smoke seems to have won somehow. Erasing the mighty mountains from the horizon. </p><p>I've been thinking a lot about the mountains and the smoke. Isn't this just how this year feels spiritually? The haze from all the negative going on in this world seems to have shrouded God's light in our lives. If we only go by what we can see, it's easy to think the smoke from the current state of many of our communities, has won. It has succeeded in erasing God's presence and influence in our life. </p><p>But just because we can't <i>see</i> God, doesn't mean He's not there. Just like the mighty mountains is God's righteousness (Psalm 36:6)--big and solid. Like the smoke in the air this month over much of Colorado, it is no match for Him. It can't hide His glory for long. We can trust He's there, just like the mountains, even though after a while we are tempted to doubt. </p><p>I know the smoke will clear from the mountains. They will stand in brilliance again on the western horizon with their rocky and snowy peaks. In the same way, I believe the smoke will clear from this world too. Things will be restored. All will be made right. God will be a towering presence in our lives once again. Hopefully soon in this life, but for sure in the next. We can all cling to that promise when everything seems so smoky right now. </p><p><br /></p><p>I hope the new season will be just that--a new season. One of more freedom instead of more restrictions. One of hope instead of despair. I'm praying that peace will be more abundant than conflict in the rest of 2020. That there will be more joy instead of frustration and fear.</p><p> But if not, I know that God is still there. Just behind the haze of 2020...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRNT9-Q_OJolJR1ogbOtFMoNjc8HYskSfwwsqx5V3aVxH_4lL9wmCE2mqKQ76rGqx3kUPv_vUNXLCMLXsfsM67wdb08BeRr2HSbbD7NHDCyCAEqWyLP66X2xW0oIFmpmOdVYattCvdUA/s1710/118554680_364852291210977_6925305519814500252_n+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1710" data-original-width="1710" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRNT9-Q_OJolJR1ogbOtFMoNjc8HYskSfwwsqx5V3aVxH_4lL9wmCE2mqKQ76rGqx3kUPv_vUNXLCMLXsfsM67wdb08BeRr2HSbbD7NHDCyCAEqWyLP66X2xW0oIFmpmOdVYattCvdUA/s640/118554680_364852291210977_6925305519814500252_n+%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div>Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-5259585486083661242020-06-09T20:37:00.003-05:002020-06-09T20:37:27.147-05:00We Made It!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Seems crazy that a whole month has gone by since we made the journey west to our new home in Colorado! But it has. And once again, a whole lot has happened in the last month, but somehow not a lot has happened in a way too. I'll start from the beginning!<br /><br />The moving team came first thing in the morning to start packing up our house in Bolingbrook. It gives you such a weird feeling to watch all your things be boxed up and packed away by strangers. But one I'm so thankful for! Man, what a blessing to have so much of the physical work of moving done for us!<br />
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And then the next day came when they loaded up the big truck with almost all of our worldly possessions! As it drove off and we were left with an empty house save for a few folding chairs, air mattresses, and suitcases, I was reminded once again what really is essential in life. How funny it is we deemed only a few keepsakes, supplies and comfort items necessary to keep with us and trusted that the rest of what we owned would be brought to our new home the following week... <br /><br />Travel day for us started bright and early the next day, and God answered our prayers for a safe and smooth caravan west to Colorado. We were able to stop and see my family as we made our way through Iowa for a quick, socially-distanced, parking lot brunch of Casey's breakfast pizza before we kept rollin'!<br />
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<br />And seemly before we knew it, we'd made it to Colorado! Even Snickers did better then we thought on the 14 hour drive.<br /><br />We spent 4 whole days without our things in our new home. While it was nice to get some deep cleaning done, decide on furniture/rug placement, get our mail situation figured out and internet line installed--boy was I ready to see my bed after so long on an air mattress! And all our other things of course...<br />
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As the moving team unload the truck--putting boxes in the correct rooms, laying area rugs down before they set up our furniture--I was so grateful once again for their service. Hormel's relocation package is so awesome! And makes these transitions WAY easier.<br /><br />In the last month since we were left on our own to unpack boxes, set up, and get settled in--we've been doing really well. We were able to get most of the boxes unpacked and picked up from the moving company within a week! We're working on decorating (hanging more curtains 😒) and organizing--finding storage space and letting go of excess furniture and things we just don't have room for or need anymore. Moving helps you become more of a minimalist!<div>
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In between the unpacking and settling in--we have made an effort to get out and explore the area as much as we can. We drove just an hour up to Estes Park the 2nd weekend we were here and had fun being tourists for an afternoon!</div>
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While much of the indoor stuff is still closed, we've been taking advantage of the many walking paths and trails in our community. The views are just amazing! I never thought of myself as outdoorsy, but this state just might make me think twice about that...<br />
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While we are so thankful to have family in the area, we'd love to make more connections in the community. But it's hard to meet people when parks, libraries, churches, gyms and pools are closed. Thankfully, Molly doesn't seem to crave social interaction like I do. Which, for now, I know is a gift. And since we already spent time figuring out how to get through the days in Chicagoland without those social outlets, it kind of feels like not as much as changed, just the setting we find ourselves in. But even so, I can't wait to start adding those things back into our days...<br />
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While we wait, we got ourselves an inflatable pool, have been trying out new recipes like homemade Jello popsicles, and getting out the Legos once again. And just this week, starting to go explore neighborhood parks that just opened.<br />
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It also helps to know everyone's kind of in the same boat. We all are missing those important places in our communities where we socialize with others, face-to-face. Everyone is having to find new mediums to connect, build stronger relationships with those in our family, and find joy in different ways. I'm reminding myself that God knows my needs, including my social ones. He realizes how important those connections are to me, and when the time is right, and not a minute late, He'll provide what I need. For now I will focus on our new home and enjoying my family. Which, actually has filled me with a whole lot of joy lately 💕<br />
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But I know so many are more than just inconvenienced right now by all that is going on in the world. Many people I know personally are struggling, are hurting, and feeling like there is nothing to look forward to as one thing after the other keeps coming up and effecting our lives this year. Anger, resentment, selfishness and mean-spirited attitudes seem to be coming at us from all directions, and it's hard to not let those negative vibes get to you.<br /><br />I think back to 2016, my most challenging year yet. The year I was told my son would not survive his journey with cancer after all the harsh treatment we had consented for him to endure. My heart will never forget how crushed, helpless and deeply disappointed I felt. That year, anger, resentment, despair and hopelessness tried to pull me in, big time.<br /><br />What kept me from falling into the negative? Many of you who followed our story know. It was gratitude. Trust in the Lord. And doing my best to live in the moment, not to let fear or worry rob me of the present, the time I did had with my amazing son. <br /><br />I remember the day early on in treatment when God helped me see that all the bumps in our road--all the setbacks and challenges--weren't a deviation from the path we were meant to be on, but was His plan for us all along. Each infection, lost line, seemingly random complication, and ultimately the end of our journey, wasn't a mistake to blame on someone or something else, but had purpose. It all was meant to grow me, teach me, and make me a better follower of Jesus. A better mother, wife, family member and friend, if I would just say "no" to being a victim and be open to what good could come out of our situation.<br /><br /><br /><div>
2020 has been quite a year. Back in January when I wrote out my 20 in 2020 list and made other resolutions for the year, I had no idea what this year would bring. Not just our family's next chapter, but the things in store for the world in the coming months. For many of you, this is turning out to be <i>your</i> most challenging year yet, your 2016. Health and economic concerns, social unrest and racial tension, and mounting marital and family pressures as a result of all of it--there is so much trying to pull us into that place of despair, bitterness, and helplessness right now. But it doesn't have to win.<br /><br />From my experience, I rest assured that God is in control. He won't ever abandon or forsake us. All the events of 2020 aren't a wrong turn from our path, a setback from where we are "suppose" to be as a country, or in our families or marriages. The challenges and struggles we face aren't a mistake, but is where we were always meant to be at this exact moment. This is all a part of God's plan. It has purpose, even though it hurts and seems so unfair. What is that purpose? How are we growing, learning, and becoming better people through it all? I don't have all the answers, but I know its worth thinking about.<br /><br /><br /><br />One of the things I've enjoyed the most out here so far are the mountains. They are so amazing. You may know this, maybe you've been told or have visited, but when they become part of the background of your life, it makes them even more spectacular. Their grandeur and beauty is just captivating... </div>
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They serve to remind me of my small place in this vast world. They reveal to me God's glory in a whole new way. Seeing what the mountains look like each morning (as the weather has such an impact on their appearance) is something that I look forward to when I wake up.<br /><br />On one of our walks recently, with our section of the Front Range filling the space in front of us, I thought about just how far we've come in just 3 short years since those early months in Austin, Minnesota, after Drew died. No longer a "typical" stay-at-home mom of 2 littles, but now a bereaved parent with a 5 year old, I wasn't sure what life would be like, how we would move forward without our Drew...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />But here we are, in Colorful Colorado! In just 3 years time we've made our new identity as not just a bereaved family, but a happy one. One that Drew is still very much a part of, just in a different way. We are a family that is growing together. We've built and manage an expanding non profit in our son's memory, and have literally moved forward twice now in less than two years. We're doing okay. More than okay, we are doing well. We are safe. We have enough, in many senses of the word. We have learned to balance our grief from the great loss of our Drew with love and joy most days. And in only a few years since our toughest year...what more could I ask for? <br /><br />Maybe that can give you hope right now if you are one of the ones struggling this year. No matter what you are in the middle of, things can get better. And in a shorter time than you might think. In only a few short years, you can find yourself in a whole new set of circumstances. So keep your head up. Keep going. Trust that He will work all things out for your good. Really believe that, and count your blessings each day. 2020 may be a year that will stay with us for a long time. But hopefully, like 2016 for me, it'll be a year that, despite what it has cost, leaves you forever changed for the better.</div>
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Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-8181689545829070852020-05-03T17:40:00.000-05:002020-05-03T19:49:04.590-05:00Until We Meet Again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Somehow, we've arrived at our last days in Chicagoland. A lot has happened since mid-March, though at the same time it feels like not much has happened at all. This period of restrictions and social isolation reminds me of the SAHM with little kids season--the days are long, but the weeks fly by. <br />
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We made it out to house hunt in Colorado right before the shut downs began. Literally--we crossed back into Illinois the day the shelter-in-place order went into effect. But in the two days we were out there, we found what we all think is the perfect house for us! We toured homes during a blizzard warning, never seeing the mountains the whole time we were there, but we found our next home. Which was such a gift.<br />
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On our way back to Chicago, we got a call from our Illinois realtor letting us know we would be receiving an offer on our house here over the weekend. Man, going into contract on our new home AND our old home on the same weekend just like our last move, really just confirms God's blessing on this move. We are so thankful!<br />
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But there actually is a lot different this time, with all that's going on surrounding the pandemic. A lot of our "last times" were done back in March, before everything shut down, and we didn't even realize it. Last time we went to our church in Bolingbrook on Sunday morning. Last time I went to the gym and did a class with my gym buddies. The last time morning spent in fellowship with my CBS ladies in person. And the last shopping trips and lunches out with girl friends.<br />
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When Molly got on the bus the day before St Patrick's day before we left for our house hunting trip, we thought there was a possibility it might be her last day at Liberty Elementary as many schools were closing, and it was. Glad I thought to get a picture that morning.<br />
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We were able to go back and pick up her belongings from her classroom since, and were happy to get a picture with her principal in front of the school to at least bring a little closure to the school year.<br />
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I am so thankful that the move process itself has gone so smoothly. Home inspections, appraisals, business with the bank--we've really had no major complications due to the COVID situation. Some things have been modified, but still went through. What a blessing. Signing the closing papers for our new home in Colorado with a mobile notary wearing masks from one of the only public spaces where we could meet wasn't exactly what we pictured, but it worked!<br />
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And things have come together for Warrior Wagons, too. We have passed on the preverbal reins to our new coordinators--getting them set up with supplies, showing them where to drop off Warrior Wagons at Lurie and setting up a team of volunteers to support them. We are so, so thankful that Warrior Wagons will continue to serve Chicago area Warriors and their families. We're so proud of this community and how generous they are with their time and resources as the newest part of the Warrior Wagon team.<br />
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In between all of these bookends, we've found ourselves in this weird place of already being cut off from our normal, but waiting for our next chapter to begin. Completing her last weeks of school from home. Having our last meals from our favorite local restaurants out of takeout bags...<br />
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We've found ways to make the best of it--with Zoom chats, a few "socially distant" picnic lunches with friends, and Facebook Live workouts.<br />
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It's been hard to have so many things we wanted to squeeze in before we left, but can't. So many people and places we would have loved to spend more time with and at, but won't. Our life as we knew it really came to an end back in March, and we've been in this weird in between place since.<br />
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But I can see, like everything, there are positives about it if I look for them. Even though we are disappointed we aren't going to get to say proper goodbyes, I also know how hard those are. How tough it is to see something play out, and knowing it's for the last time. I'm familiar with the longing for more time, when the sand of the hour glass runs out. And maybe it's a gift I didn't have to endure some of those this time.<br />
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We've already started the transition, whether we wanted to or not. We've gone back to the "just us" feel after a move, before you've made many connections. It brings you closer when all you have is each other. We figured out things to do that aren't closed or canceled. Like flying a kite, making homemade lemonade, sewing our first pillowcase, having a picnic, checking out a nature center, and trying our hand at new sidewalk chalk trends...<br />
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It makes it easier to leave in a way, when we aren't doing any of the things we'd like to do here. No school, no workout classes, no backyard barbeques with friends. No events or celebrations to miss out on, no holidays or gatherings with family enjoyed without us. The social media and messaging apps we have relied on to stay in touch with friends and family will serve us the same in Colorado.<br />
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But even in this strange holding pattern, the difficulty of moves cannot be escaped. People we've shared our lives and hearts with over the last 18 months make leaving even during this time hurt so much. When we were new and nervous and they welcomed us and befriended us, it made them really special friends. And now we have to move on after such a short time? Seems more than a little unfair, like a big tease. And it touches those tender, sensitive places in our hearts that have yet to completely heal from the goodbyes we feel like we just said to our family of friends in Minnesota, in addition to obviously the biggest goodbye I hope we ever have to say.<br />
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I'm not one that's real adventurous at heart, and loves routines and knowing what to expect. Here we go again, about to move, this time a thousand miles, to an unknown neighborhood and town. And without anything open out there, how will we meet anyone? Get connected in the community?<br />
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But just as I begin to feel upset and overwhelmed, once again, I feel the Lord reminding me what He taught me in 2016. <i>One day at a time. Trust me. I will never leave you, I will take care of you. Haven't I always?</i> </div>
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And I know it's true. I know I don't even know the amazing things He has in store for us in this next chapter of our lives. How great Colorado will be. What our family will get to be a part of, how we'll see Him work in a new community.</div>
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So we'll keep doing what we've learned to do: Make the most of each day. Be so very thankful for all the little things. And trust that He will be with us and go ahead of us to Colorado, preparing our new home for us just like he did here in Chicago just 18 months ago.<br />
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One of the blankets someone gifted us after Drew died had words that gave my heart so much clarity and comfort. The words played in my head as tears fell down my cheeks on the way home from the last afternoon spent on a deck with some of my closest friends (6ish feet apart 😉)...<br />
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Farewell, Chicago. And all the wonderful people we've met. Thank you for welcoming us, befriending us, and continuing our little wagon project with us. The memories, the experiences and the connections will have a special place in our hearts.<br />
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This isn't goodbye, because this is not the end, but simply that I'll miss you, until we meet again 💕Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-3998845079962912512020-03-31T15:57:00.000-05:002020-03-31T15:57:23.018-05:00A Living Hope<div>
Our Drew would be 6 years old tomorrow, April 1st.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Six. About to finish Kindergarten. Probably learning how to read his first words, beginning to write his name, riding a bike, and having some friends of his own. <br /><br />It's hard to imagine what he'd look like, or how he'd sound now. Or what our family would be like with an 8 year old sister and a 6 year old brother. How having four eaters at dinner or on our afternoon walk/bike ride would change things. How much louder things would be in the house right now, and how much less lonely it would be with his energy and cheer...<br />
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Birthdays have been the hardest for me since he's been gone. Holidays, the anniversary of his death, all are difficult, but there's just something about his birthday that stings so much worse. I think it's because it's a reminder of what could have been. <br /><br />On April 1st, 2014, we held our precious son, the little brother that completed our family, and we never thought for a second that hey may not make it to his third birthday. We dreamed of watching him grow, cheering him on while he played soccer or maybe football. Of feeding him teenage boy-sized meals and proudly supervising him mowing the lawn. I was excited to smile as he headed out the door to prom, and wondered what he'd be when he grew up...<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />I've found that when the birthday comes and there is no child to blow out the candles, its not *just* missing the person. But it's also a painful reminder that all of the hopes and dreams that were born the day your child was, are dead too. Each birthday so far, the disappointment and frustration are reignited, along with the missing of our sweet boy. And it hurts so very much.<br /><br />We only got to celebrate two of his birthdays with him...<br />
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<br />And this will be the forth one that Molly will blow out his candle for him.<br /><br />
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<br />As more and more birthdays pass that were never had, its easy to feel like we are getting further and further from him. Nowadays, it takes being around a two year old for all of 2 minutes before we realize just how far past two-year-olds our family is. And in those moments, my baby seems a long, long ways away. It's hard not to be discouraged thinking about how much further away we will get before we are together again...<br /><br />Coincidentally (or not at all), Drew's birthday falls right in the middle of Easter season. Just when the darkness of disappointment and heartache threaten to settle in, we are reminded of the only Light that can drive all of that out. <br /><br />That because Jesus died and rose again, my Drewy is alive! Even though he died. We have hope, a real living Hope, that our sad story isn't over yet. When Drew's birthday causes us to mourn more than celebrate, we have Easter to quickly lift us up again. We are reminded that we can celebrate after all, because death did not win over 2,000 years ago, and it surely didn't beat Drew. Although we certainly feel the sting of death now, there will be a day when we ask, "Where, O death, is thy sting?" Hallelujah!<br /><br /><br />And maybe it isn't a coincidence either that Easter is the holiday falling right in the middle of this global pandemic. Maybe we all could use the reminder right about now of the living Hope we all can have. The reason we can celebrate, and not live in darkness.<br /><br />I think many of us started off this time of social distancing and stay-at-home orders with energy and enthusiasm, running off adrenaline and the novelty of what was going on. But as the first days of the quarantine have turned into weeks, and it seems like this will be turning into months, I feel like a lot of us are starting to lose steam.<br /><br />Many are grieving right along with us right now. We are missing our friends and family, our familiar routines. We realize we took for granted our sense of security, sanity, and maybe even our safety. We may be longing for the good ole days of going out for coffee with a friend without a second thought. We are disappointed that a vacation is postponed or canceled, or that a milestone or birthday may be celebrated very different than we had always pictured. Many are just plain tired of feeling restricted, trapped and overwhelmed.<br /><br />But, there is good news!<br /><br />There will be an end once and for all to all viruses, quarantines and the oppression we feel on Earth as it is now. Disease and death were conquered on the cross for all of time, we don't have to fight that battle again! How much different would this time of shelter-in-place feel if we lived like we believe that? If JOY was in our hearts instead of anxiety. If love and hope would pour out from our conversations and social media posts instead of warnings and anger and judgement.<br /><br />I know it's hard. The Beckers are feeling it too. Missing our friends, wishing we would get to do the "lasts" and say our goodbyes before we move like we had planned. But as I think about Easter today, I am challenged once again to act on my faith and not my feelings. To allow my Hope to shape my behavior, not the negative. To be more thankful than resentful. To not let the negative have any power over me, living in the power of the Cross instead. How much different would things be if we all tried that?<br /><br />I know one beautiful soul that was so good at doing just that. Who didn't let fear or frustration control him. Who almost literally sparkled with joy and love and hope. Who daily showed me what it meant to be more than a conqueror even when it looked like the deck was stacked against him. To make the most of each day, despite being quarantined in hospital rooms for weeks at a time. What a gift it was to have him in our family, even though it was for less than 3 years. </div>
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So in these first couple weeks of April, we are celebrating from home. We are celebrating our wonderful son and brother, and the fact that we will see him again. We are celebrating that even though we are in a time of a great deal of sacrificing, the ultimate sacrifice was made over 2,000 years ago on an old rugged cross that conquered disease and death and gave us eternal life. <br /><br />And in the light of both of those things, even though sometimes we have dark hours or afternoons, I'd say the future seems pretty bright 😊</div>
Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-77992429648379462522020-03-11T16:49:00.001-05:002020-03-11T16:49:54.423-05:00Here We Go Again...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We have news to share--our family will be on the move again! This time to the beautiful state of Colorado. Josh was offered a great opportunity within his company, Hormel Foods, at another subsidiary--Justin's Nut Butters.<br />
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It will be a change from the meatballs, sausage links, and Italian beef we've been enjoying from Fontanini, but we love peanut butter too 😉<br /><br /> He will begin as the operations director sometime in the next couple of months. I am so proud and excited for him! Josh is a smart, hard working man that I am thankful to have as my partner in this life. I'm grateful that his value is recognized in his company as well!<br /><br />We knew the Chicago area wouldn't be our forever home, but we certainly are beginning the relocation process a lot sooner than we thought we would. With that said, we are all excited about this next adventure. Molly was on board from the start--excited at the idea of a new house and living in Colorado. Which is such a gift! She continues to show her bravery and strength, making so many transitions in our lives significantly easier by her positive attitude.<br /><br />We keep being told how incredible living in Colorado will be--the scenery, the weather, the lifestyle--we're excited to see for ourselves! We have family and friends in the Colorado area already, which helps with the idea of moving 1,000 miles away. Molly is currently an only grandchild on both sides, so to have cousins around will be a welcome change, for all of us!<br /><br />We will house hunting and visiting the area soon, which I'm sure will give us a little better picture of what this next chapter will bring. It's hard to imagine just looking at pictures and drawing on memories from visiting family! We are looking forward to exploring the area together--looking at houses and seeing communities as a family. More will come for sure on what this next part of our story will look like I'm sure!<br /><br /><br /><div>
But as with almost every big event or transition in life, there is sadness mixed in with the excitement too. We've only been in the Chicago area a short time, but we all have really enjoyed our time here. In a little less than 18 months, Chicago and it's charm have won us over. The city skyline always gets me as it takes shape in front of you as you drive toward the city.</div>
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Many of you know how excited I get about food, and this city has a lot to offer! The pizza, and hot dogs; ice cream and popcorn! We've enjoyed all the treats.</div>
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<br />And the people, like every community, have been the best part. From the beginning when the guy behind us picked up our bill at Dunkin Donuts after I forgot my wallet at home, we've been so blessed by the friendliness and kindness shown to us. We've really made some meaningful connections in our community--with classmates, neighbors, co-workers, gym buddies, ladies in my church group, and so many others. <div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
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<br />Its hard to say goodbye so soon, as we just were getting comfortable again. Even though we have experience missing people yet finding joy, we'd rather not keep having to do it! We will miss so many! But, as Molly reminds me, we won't lose them as friends, we'll just add more from Colorado into our lives. <br /><br /> And I was only a few months into my full-time gig at the school being a Lunchroom/Recess Supervisor! I was just getting the hang of it, learning names of the kids, and feeling like I was making a difference. It's hard to walk away, feeling like I had more to give. But I know that God had me right where He wanted me for just the time He wanted me there. Saying goodbye to the students and my co-workers was harder than I expected, and I already miss their sweet faces and comradery! But I put my radio on the charger, and left with the notes and gifts I received on my last day knowing that someday, I'll get to see what happened to each of these students. And how I may have been even the tiniest part of their journey.<br />
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We've not only learned a new city and grown closer to new friends since October of 2018--we've learned a lot about ourselves and grown even closer to each other too. Moving is a big deal within a family. I found it to cause you to rely on each other more, and to trust each other in new situations. It leads you to develop a deeper connection with each other as you experience new things together. It also reveals things about each other, or brings to the surface things that may have been too easily put aside in a more familiar and comfortable setting. </div>
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Good and difficult, our first move in 10 years have served to make us stronger together--ready for the next move! Us Beckers are at our best when we're facing a challenge together, and I'm feeling that strength as we prepare for what lies ahead.</div>
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<br /><br />What will happen to Warrior Wagons in Chicago? That was one of my first concerns when Josh came home with news of this opportunity. We have just gotten things going, and are really seeing the community come together to support the program at Lurie. I don't want to see it fade away! But, God was way ahead of us, as usual.<br /><br />Two of our closest friends in the community have volunteered to keep Warrior Wagons going as Coordinators. And now with procedures and systems in place that keep things running smoothly without our physical presence at two other branches, we know it can be done here. As we share news of our move, many more have followed suit, expressing interest in being on our team here in the Chicago area. What a relief, and blessing to see God taking this from our hands, and setting it into others that care as much about our organization and our Warriors as we do!<br />
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There are a lot of emotions wrapped up in Warrior Wagons. It's more than just a non-profit for us, but a living memorial to our son. It's our tribute to Drew, and we are so, so thankful to see his legacy be brought into and grow in new communities. Passing on all the supplies into new hands, seeing all the Warrior Wagons lined up, I welled up with gratitude, with satisfaction, with awe at the beautiful way our prayers are being answered by God that Drew's life won't be forgotten. That more and more people will feel the impact of his short life.<br />
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And, unfortunately, we know there are children battling cancer all over the county. Maybe this is another opportunity to serve a new set of Warriors, and share our story with another community! We are hopeful and excited to see how this move could serve to grow Warrior Wagon's reach even further. And we love that it'll keep us connected, give us reason, to come back to each place that we've left a piece of our heart in Warrior Wagons ❤<br />
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<br /><br />So while I was initially kind of startled by the idea of moving again so soon, I really do see all of this coming together, and know that this is God's next chapter for our family. It's a familiar feeling of excitement and hope, but also reluctance and sadness about the good byes. I can feel myself being asked to trust and rely on Him each step of the way, which is familiar but never easy. <br /><br />But I know He'll work all things out for our good. That He'll finish the works He's began in us, and will never abandon us on a road we chose to walk with Him down. I've learned that God doesn't keep you where you're comfortable. If you are truly willing to be used, He'll take you right where you'll be most useful--and it's a heck of a ride if you're up for it!<br /><br />And you know? We've made the most of our time here. We haven't taken for granted the opportunities available to us. We made sure we visited family we were closer to. We utilized the two major airports to visit friends and family. We hosted families and holidays while we have the space. We've gone out and DONE more things than we used to. We've seen more things, had more experiences, and were intentional with our time while here in the Chicago area.<br /><br />We took the train into the city, rode in a water taxi through the river, visited both Zoos, enjoyed a beach day on the lake during the summer, saw the City at Christmas time, took Warrior Wagons to new heights, ice skated on the Ribbon and played in the Maggie Daily Park downtown among so many other things...<br />
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Making the most of each day, being thankful for the opportunities you have, and seeking joy in everyday life are things that 2016 and our journey with Drew taught us. And what this attitude, this way of approaching life has given us, once again, is no regrets. Sure there's more things we'd like to do, places we'd like to visit if we had more time, but we're satisfied with all we've accomplished and done in the last 18 months. And just like at the end of our time with Drew, it makes saying "see you later" Chicago, and moving forward to Colorado, a whole lot easier...</div>
Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-991673922028881332020-01-23T15:08:00.001-06:002020-01-23T15:08:06.533-06:00Glory DayLast Sunday, January 19th, marked three years since our Drew was set free. Free from the body that caused him so much trouble in his short life. Free from feeling sick, from being sore, from fevers and from fatigue. Free from hospital rooms, from clinic appointments, from scans and from procedures. Free from feeding tubes, and from IV lines. Free from this fallen, unfair world.<br />
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It has been three years since I looked out the window from his hospital room, through the glass walls of the hallways across the court yard, wondering how people could just carry on with life, as my baby lay dying beside me. Three years ago that I sat behind his head as he lay sideways in the hospital bed like he always did, because I couldn't stand to look at his sweet little swollen face as his vitals dropped. When his breathing finally ended, there was a calm, a hush in the room. He was surrounded by his loving parents and his beloved stuffies as he was born in to Heaven, three years ago last Sunday.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We have been talking at home about Drew's day coming up. And a week before, Molly asked what we were talking about. It wasn't his birthday, she pointed out. No, it's the day he died I explained, I wasn't sure what to call it. <br /><br />"I think it should be called Drew's Glory Day, because it was the day he got his Glory in Heaven."<br /><br />I love that Molly girl, I think I'll start calling it that too ❤<br /><br /><br />You all have seen what has happened since Drew's Glory Day, three years ago. We have done our best to keep the promises we made to him. Which were to always carry his memory with us, yet move forward with his sister as a family. To really LIVE our life to the fullest, not letting cancer take any more from us. To keep our attitude of thankfulness, and trust in the Lord. And to pass on all the kindness and generosity shown to us to those who would follow.<br /><br />And as I say all that, I realize, we spent the three year anniversary of his death doing each of those things.<br /><br />It happened that we had a Warrior Wagon to bring into the city for a new family at Lurie. I say happened, but I know God had this timed out perfectly, even sending a snow storm to ensure we'd take the wagon on Sunday to the family instead of Saturday like we had planned. <br />
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I can't think of a better way to honor his memory on the day he died then to gift another two year old boy and his family just beginning their journey with a Warrior Wagon, one of Drew's Wagons. <br /><br />To me, each Warrior Wagon is a real, physical sign that Drew's life made a difference. That all he went through, all 1024 days of his life, resulted in something beside just a sad story. It is a privilege and an honor to carry on this legacy, to run this living memorial to our son every day of the year, not just this one. And as I watched that father pull the Warrior Wagon into the elevator to take up to his son, I felt such a peace and satisfaction that we are doing just what we are suppose to be doing, especially on that special day.<br />
<br />Then we walked across the street to the American Girl Doll store on Michigan Avenue. Molly had on her Christmas/Birthday list a *real* American Girl doll, not another brand's version. Being the practical folks many know we are, we gifted Molly the money for half of the doll at her birthday and told her like last year's Lego set, she could earn the other half by saving her money from her paid chores, and by picking up extras. We hoped to teach her the value of $100, and of working for something you really want. <br /><br />Well she earned the last $2 by the weekend, so we told her when we were downtown we'd take her to finally get her doll. She was so excited, dressed and ready to go at 7:30AM! <br /><br />The joy on her face as we entered the store, as she played with the display dolls, and took advantage of photo ops lifted our somber spirits after the Warrior Wagon drop off. <br />
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She so carefully chose the exact doll she wanted, down to the eye brow shape. It was such a delight to see her realize all her hard work over the last month. It was a fun morning in the city, we are so thankful to have the opportunity to experience Chicago!<br />
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<br />Molly brushed the doll's hair on the way home, and buckle her up next to her in the back seat. She decided to name the doll Mary. It was a day I know we'll all remember for a long time. We added a new memory to our life as the family of three we are today. It is us, moving forward, and making the most of each day--even January 19th. Showing that cancer and it's temporary victory hold no power over us!<br /><br />After we had our nice time in the city, we were home by lunch. Us Beckers are efficient 😉 Josh didn't want to miss the NFL playoff games, and Molly was anxious to introduce her new doll to her others.<br />
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I settled in preparing envelopes for our Warrior Wagon newsletter, and kept laundry going, among other house work jobs. <br /><br />While I sat at the dining room table stamping envelopes I thought somewhat disappointedly, now this feels like any other Sunday afternoon. But, I thought, we all were happy, doing our usual weekend things.<br /><br />The more I thought about it, it wasn't that long ago that a "normal" Sunday afternoon was something that I longed for. I had taken for granted "normal" before cancer barged into our lives, as many of us do, and remember when I could only hope I'd experience it again. It occurred to me that not even three years ago, I would have loved to have a normal Sunday afternoon at home with my family, getting caught up on my to-do list.<br /><br />When Drew died we had just been through a year of constant hospital stays, doctor appointments, weekly lab draws, I hardly could remember what "normal" felt like. Even on the rare days we were all home together the medical care we had to provide for Drew was far from normal. Most families do not give injections to their two year olds while they watch Wheel of Fortune, or take temperatures every time they turn around crossing their flingers that it isn't over 100.3°. Filling feeding bags and flushing central lines daily is far from routine in any other house, but become that way in a family that is on a journey with pediatric cancer. I know many moms who may be reading this that know all too well just what I mean.<br /><br />Three years ago as I watched my son's life end, I knew I was watching my life as I knew it end too. I remember the devastating realization that things would never be the same again. Not only for our family and our circumstances, but that <i>I</i> would never be the same again. What was going to be our new normal? <br /><br />The first few weeks and months at home without our Drew felt like we were in a fog. A haze of questioning reality. A nearly constant battle between my heart that was still looking for him in his seat in my rear view mirror, or thinking it heard him crying out in the middle of the night, and my head that knew better. That understood he was never coming back. I know I wondered if it would ever feel normal again during that difficult period too...<br /><br />So actually, maybe having a normal Sunday afternoon on Drew's Glory Day was really something to celebrate too I decided. Another way we kept our promises to Drew, and continue to show that cancer certainly did not win on January 19th, 2017. <br /><br /><div>
So there it is, another year down, one more row done. One year closer to the big reunion. We've made it this far, we will keep marching on through His power and with His guidance!</div>
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<br />I want to also say thank you to everyone who reached out to us over the last couple of weeks. It really means more than you know to have people remember. That someone cares and acknowledges our grief. Personal messages and texts, such heartfelt comments on my personal Facebook page/posts and on our Warrior Wagons post really do encourage us. <br /><br />It's was wonderful to know that two different mass services were offered in Drew's memory on Sunday. We gratefully received cards and meaningful gifts in the mail, and a fun edible arrangement delivery too!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Thank you to so many of you that are still there for us. That follow this blog, even if sometimes it makes you cry. I am always thankful for the kind words and encouragement you comment and message me with.<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
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Happy Glory Day, my sweet little boy. I hope how your family spent the day made you smile. We haven't broken our promises we made to you on that last day we were together. Your legacy lives on, we are making new memories as a family, and we have normal days again. We're okay, and we know that you are even more than okay. Full of your Glory, waiting for us to join you 😊<br />Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-5435356646060322712019-12-17T17:33:00.002-06:002019-12-17T17:33:44.998-06:001,024 DaysThere was a day in early November, when more time had passed since Drew's death, then the amount of time he was alive. I've been anticipating the day since I realized early on in my grief how relatively soon it would come. His life was so short, and we have so much left of our own. Our time with Drew would eventually be a small percentage of our family's life as a whole, and it broke my heart.<br />
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Drew lived for 1,024 days. From April 1st, 2014, when he took his first breath, the sand in the hourglass of his life started to fall, the countdown had begun, until the day he'd take his last breath on January 19th, 2017.<br />
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Not quite three years doesn't seem like a short time necessarily, until it's all you have. He went from a helpless baby who smiled too much I thought (as it interrupted nursing and napping), to a little two year old boy that endured more than many of us even could grasp, with the same sweet smile on his face.<br />
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Looking back through photos and selecting these, I wonder how I've possibly gone over 1000 days without seeing that beautiful smile, and those captivating eyes. On the other hand, maybe 1,024 days doesn't seem like a particularly long amount of time, until its how long you've gone without seeing one of your children.<br />
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1,024 days is now a lifetime to us. The most precious days of our lives, the short chapter of our story which included our Drew.<br />
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Thinking about the day we'd pass this mark used to fill me with sadness when I'd think about it. I dreading the day, the process of getting further away from my time with Drew, it almost made me feel sick. Many of you who have followed along since his death know, I spent a lot of time writing, crying, and <i>feeling</i> in that first period of time after our great loss.<br />
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But you know what? That week, that day in November passed without the flood of emotion I had anticipated early on in my grief. In the past, my heart would have demanded to be heard. It wouldn't have rested until I had spent significant time and emotional energy acknowledging the turning point, the transition of time. But as it was, where I am today, that week a quiet cry in my big chair, next to the shelf where what's left of my baby now rests, is all my heart needed. And it somewhat surprised me.<br />
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But thinking about it since, I've realized it's not that my heart doesn't care anymore, or that it's completely healed. No, of course not. I think its more that as our family moves forward, we acknowledge our loss, we remember our Drew, in different ways now. It doesn't have to be a time consuming, emotional, intentional task of re-mourning Drew when anniversaries or turning points come, but it has become a more functional grieving, action-based acknowledgement of him <i>through</i> our lives.<br />
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And our lives seem to be full of action right now! I feel like when I have carved out time to write this year, I frequently talk about how busy we are. Which is true! But what I'm realizing is that the things that fill each day aren't things that distract us from our grief, but things that just express our love for Drew and the influence of him in our lives in a new way.<br />
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Like at my new job. I'm now working at the same school everyday over lunch/recess time--which keeps me on the go, and really makes me be deliberate with my time. Taking a step back, I can see that I bring Drew and the 1,024 days we had together with me in how I talk to and care for the students. Because of Drew I'm more patient, compassionate, and confident in my judgment. I see myself acknowledging him with my actions and attitude at school. when I stop to think about it. And those little boys at my school that I now know by name and who hug me when they come in, do more for this Mama's forever broken heart than they will ever know ❤<br />
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I've been very active with Warrior Wagon things this year too, which is a blessing. Now between the 3 hospitals, we have a lot to do each week! The program is really picking up steam and awareness here in the Chicago area since the fall, and I've felt it in my everyday life. There was a 5K that raised money for our Warriors, donations being made and needing picked up, and through my lunchroom job, God opened some doors to speak in a 5th grade classroom. I shared our family's story and what we do through Warrior Wagons to serve families like ours. And it brought me so much joy.<br />
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Molly's school is holding an item drive to fill our Warrior Wagons during this month, December. I've been fitting more classroom talks at the school into my days before or after work, again telling students our story and how it lead to Warrior Wagons.<br />
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It's meant so much to get out there and share our story again. To put on my Warrior Wagon gear and, with Drew's picture behind me, tell about how our family made it through treatment and the last 1,024 days without our Drew by serving others. Once again proving to me that instead of being overcome by emotion so often, we seem to be overcoming the emotional stage of grief. Instead, acknowledging our loss and it's influence in our lives through our actions, especially through our work with Warrior Wagons.<br />
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Each time we bring a Warrior Wagon to Downtown Chicago (as we did again recently) and meet a new family that we never would have met if it <i>wasn't</i> for Drew's life, we remember and honor him. And it's just as satisfying as a good cry ever was.<br />
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We are right in the heart of the Christmas season, and we've been busy lately preparing for the holiday in between work/school, Warrior Wagons business, and regular life tasks. I've said for several years now, Christmas was a lot more fun when I wasn't the Mom and had to get everything done! But Molly's been such a good help this year. I'm trusting her with more and more tasks, and she's eager to be involved.<br />
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In the last 1,024 days we've celebrated two Christmases without our Drew. And during each of those Christmas seasons the grief and longing to be with both of my babies has brought me to my knees. So far this year though, I've been making my way through without a wave of grief knocking me down.<br />
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Although tears have slowly trickled down my cheeks some afternoons as I prep dinner, alone, listening to Christmas music. My heart has ached as I Christmas shop for my little girl, and pass by all the little boy toys, wishing I had my little boy to shop for. Wondering what he'd even be into now, as the five and half year old he would be.<br />
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And as I dress for Molly's school Christmas program, with my door shut, I let some tears go, but tried not to mess up my makeup before we headed out, wishing that I'd have gotten the chance to see Drew up on stage.<br />
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I know that it's in all these quiet moments, I'm acknowledging our loss, grieving for the son that I had but God has taken back, and it's okay that it's not a huge emotional ordeal. It doesn't mean that I love him any less, or don't miss him as much. My heart is able to, here and there, let out some of the pain it has learned to carry each of the last 1,024 days.<br />
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God has been with me each of those days, just as He was with us each of the 1,024 days of Drew's life, and the ones before it. His strength, wisdom and love has been what has carried us, what people see in us, and what will be with us as we live the next 1,024 days, and the next, and the next. Until the day comes that He bring us Home too.<br />
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That's what He's reminded me in those quiet moments when I grieve this Christmas. The reason we celebrate this December isn't just in thanksgiving of our many blessings, or in the fellowship with those we love, but the HOPE that was born 2,000 years ago. The reason we shouldn't count the days that have passed since Drew died, but instead count them as days less we have to wait until we see him again.<br />
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What have you done in the last 1,024 days? What will you do in the next? Less then 3 years is enough time to make an impact on the world, I've seen it in person. Who's life are you influencing for the better? How will you make the world a better place for others, not just yourself? Something to think about, something that challenges me in my life. How many of Drew's lifetimes will fit into mine, and how will I use each one with matched intensity to his? My Drew set the bar pretty high!<br />
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And maybe in each one I won't be able to keep his pace. But I'll try as hard as I can, and at least keep the smile, have the joy, that he had in each of his 1,024 days.<br />
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There may be times we break down still this season. This third Christmas without our Drew may prove too much for just a quiet cry. Seeing my family of three doing Christmas together, wishing we were that family of four again, will bring sadness right along with the joy. But we'll balance the two as best we can. Not allowing the sadness to cancel out the joy, yet not denying the sorrow we feel either. A delicate balance I've been practicing in the last 1,024 days.<br />
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So there we have it. Yes, we've been busy this year. 2019 was not a quiet, low-key year by any means. It had less tears, not as much writing, but more doing. Which just means our grief is shifting, not necessarily lessening. We've made it through the turning point of having as much life after Drew's than with it. And that's okay, we're just one lifetime closer to being together again.<br />
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Merry Christmas everyone. May peace and Hope be as much a part of your Christmas as all the other emotions we experience during this season. Much love, from the Becker family to yours!<br />
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<br />Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-5613655889400941732019-10-20T19:35:00.003-05:002019-10-20T19:35:35.046-05:00As We Remember Him<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Its funny how often we tell ourselves things will slow down "when..." When baseball season is over, once the kids get a little older, after the holidays are through. But sometimes, it just doesn't slow down, the business only shifts. Changes direction, but still has you going from one thing to the next. This year has gone that way for us. I thought once our over-booked summer was over, things would settle down. But they really haven't.<br />
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September turned out to be a busy month. In addition to settling into school and visiting my Aunt in upstate Michigan, we also held our month-long Warrior Wagons funding drive. Since our operation is spread over 2 states now, this year we thought outside the box. We decided to try a remote fundraiser of sorts, more of a funding drive than a specific fundraiser. We asked our community to "Pull Together for Warrior Wagons" and team up with friends, family members, a business they own, or their work group to make a collective donation to Warrior Wagons that would help fund as many Warrior Wagons as we could.<br />
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Honestly, we weren't sure what to expect with this concept. Would people be willing to take the extra step of coordinating a group contribution instead of coming to an event? Well, the answer was a resounding "yes". And then God brought forward a group who was willing to put on an actual event in Rochester for anyone who still wanted that experience too!<br />
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September 28th we traveled back to Minnesota for the event that the Rochester Group of Thrivent Financial hosted, and to also attend a separate fundraiser one of our Warrior families was hosting, selflessly giving the proceeds to a handful of charities serving the local childhood cancer community, which included ours.<br />
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It was such a great day, without anything to do with dollars raised. To have our whole Warrior Wagon team together, from all three of our branches was so great! And to meet and spend some time with Warrior families, to chat with fellow cancer moms that I'd exchanged messages on Facebook with, but never met in person was worth the whole trip. There's a special bond among other cancer families. You feel an instant connection with people who have been through the same horrors you have. It's been a long time since I've felt that sense of belonging, and it was heartwarming.<br />
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Our Pulling Together campaign did just what we'd hoped it would: Unite people in the name of doing good. Get new people talking about Warrior Wagons and what we're doing. And yes, bring in funding for more Warrior Wagons! As we continued to receive donations in the first week in October, and tallies from events were finalized, we were amazing at our grand total. Just over $21,000! Wow. Amazing. Enough funds for over 80 Warriors to receive a Warrior Wagon. God continues to provide for this project.<br />
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Even in the midst of the all of that, I somehow felt a nudge to explore what more I could personally do right here in our new community, and began to look into jobs at Molly's school. I was about to start subbing in Austin before we moved, and I decided maybe I'd start there and see what part-time jobs might be available that would work with our family's schedule. Lunchroom Supervisor came up. It seemed like a perfect fit--only 2.75 hours a day from about 11-2, supervising lunch and recess. I'd still have a little time before and after to get my work done at home and with Warrior Wagons and be home to get Molly on the bus and there when she got off.<br />
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Everything came together quickly, and I've been subbing for this position district-wide a few days a week since mid September. So far, I'm really enjoying it!<br />
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The time goes really fast, opening ketchup packets and milk cartons isn't so bad, and the students overall have been so delightful. Kids really do say the darndest things! I need to keep a notebook in my car, to write down funny quotes and interesting stories when I leave the schools. It seems each day there's something noteworthy that happened or was said.<br />
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Like one of the first days. I was standing in the lunchroom, looking around at the kids. Thinking, look at me, I'm doing this! I was a little nervous about how I'd feel in a room full of kids, especially kindergarten--the age Drew would be. I'm not feeling upset at all, I thought to myself. But then I did start thinking about Drew, how big he'd be, what he'd be doing in a lunchroom-- would he be like that boy that can hardly sit still? Or that one over there, sitting quietly eating his lunch. That ache in my heart starting up again...But, I thought, I can still to do this! Maybe it's okay to think about him, and feel a little sad, but still enjoy this job too. It's like my motto in life, right? <br />
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Just as I was having this internal discussion, a little girl's hand shot up. Shaking my head a little to snap out of it, I came over to her. "Can you read this note to me?" she asked. I looked down at her note from Mom and it said, "Don't let anyone take away your shine!" Wow, goosebumps. For those of you who have been following this page, you know that's almost exactly the phrase a kind nurse said to Drew, and then to me, in one of our last visits to surgery. I closed a commencement speech with that line the spring after Drew died. (speech can be found <a href="https://drawingfromdrew.blogspot.com/2017/06/let-nothing-dim-your-shine.html">HERE</a>)<br />
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What a perfectly timed, meaningful note. A note from this girl's mother to her daughter, but it seemed to also be from my Father to His needing-reassurance daughter. Maybe from a heavenly son to his feeling-shaky mother? Someday I may find out...I fought tears as I continued on to more hands in the air asking me to open string cheeses and to be excused to the bathroom. But I had a renewed confidence. God and our loved ones really are with us, in the everyday places like elementary lunchrooms, and right within our thoughts...<br />
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So that brings us to the middle of October. How is that possible? In addition to me starting this new job, Molly's started swimming again two nights a week at Stroke School. She loves it! But it adds one more thing to our week. As a family we still really enjoy our quiet evenings, but we're managing just one after school activity ;)<br />
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Yes, fall is in full swing, and with it, emotions have run high at times. The season itself is a difficult one for us (I've wrote about this season in years past, click <a href="https://drawingfromdrew.blogspot.com/2018/10/the-ending-of-season.html">HERE</a> or <a href="https://drawingfromdrew.blogspot.com/2017/09/the-next-season.html">THERE</a>). But this fall is even more significant. This would have been the fall that Drew would have started school, and I still haven't taken the time to write about that. Today's the day I guess!<br />
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I made it through Molly starting school in August without too big of a wave of grief crashing in. Drew was never here, so somehow him not getting on the bus with Molly didn't have as much of a sting as I thought it would.<br />
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But when all of the kids in Austin went back to school the day after labor day, that was the day the wave crashed in. These were the kids I thought would be Drew's classmates. The school and classrooms I had pictured him attending, before I knew he'd never make it there. The Facebook Timehop photos of Molly getting on the kindergarten bus that same day was a cruel reminder of what could have been. My heart wishing I would have gotten the chance to see Drew do the same...<br />
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As I picked up my phone that day to swipe through the finite images I have of my boy, I came across this one of him in his backpack---not filled with crayons and notebooks, but a feeding pump and bag of formula. It was the day we went home after our initial 28 day hospital stay. Kind of the "first day" of the rest of his life. The last of his life. Look at how happy he looks...amazing in an of itself after what he'd already been through:<br />
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And not too far from Molly's look on her first day. No, I didn't get to see my Drew start school. He didn't get to ride on a school bus and wave to me out the window, but he got to ride in push cars with his IV pole beside him down the halls of St. Mary's, waving and blowing kisses to his favorite nurses.<br />
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He didn't get to finger paint with his friends, but with his child life specialist friends.<br />
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He may not have programs, or performances where I'd get see him up on stage and have that #ProudMom moment, but I remember feeling so deeply proud of my son many, many times in his last year. As he laid perfectly still for CT scans. <br />
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As I watched him so gently, so compassionately, play with other kids in the hospital play room. As he cooperated with nurses as they cleaned him up after getting sick all over himself, or changed his dressing, and he'd said thank you to them. And of course as he labored through too many tough days during treatment.<br />
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My baby may never have went to school the way other kids get to. But he certainly got an education in real life. In medical procedures and medications. In the meaning of persevering and enduring.<br />
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And he taught US even more. About real life and persevering and enduring. But also about living in the moment, choosing joy, and making the most of each day. Lessons that will last a lifetime.<br />
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The season is really changing. Outside as the leaves are turning, and the crisp air has made its way here. Inside Becker house, the season is changing too. Next month we'll have gone as long without Drew as we had him with us. Molly is getting so big and independent, we really are entering a new stage of parenting with her. Add in me starting to work outside the home again, and we are definitely in new territory.<br /><br /><div>
I'm getting further along on my grief journey as well, entering a new season there perhaps. Maybe in this stage I don't require as much contemplation and going over things in my mind, as notice I'm not taking the time to write nearly as often. Maybe I'm strong enough to go out and DO again, after I've already taken time to reflect and make as much peace in my heart as there can be. </div>
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But even though the frequency of times I take a break, examine my heart and sort things out, I'm so thankful that when I do, I have such a supportive and encouraging community behind me here--old and new members :)</div>
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<br />Seasons changing are always hard for me. But Drew is a part of it all. I can feel him, somehow, some way.<br /><br />A poem I came across in a grief book I picked up recently perfectly summed up so much in our lives and hearts over the last 6 months:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"At the rising sun and at its going down; We remember them.<br />
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At the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter; We remember them.<br />
At the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring; We remember them.<br />
At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer; We remember them.<br />
At the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of the autumn; We remember them.<br />
At the beginning of the year and when it ends; We remember them.</div>
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As long as we live, they too will live, for they are now a part of us as We remember them.</div>
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When we are weary and in need of strength; We remember them.<br />
When we are lost and sick at heart; We remember them.<br />
When we have decisions that are difficult to make; We remember them.<br />
When we have joy we crave to share; We remember them.<br />
When we have achievements that are based on theirs; We remember them.<br />
For as long as we live, they too will live, for they are now a part of us as, We remember them. "</div>
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We remember Drew. <br />
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In each ordinary day, and in each season, we remember Drew.<br />
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In the happy moments, and in the missed moments, we bring him in and he is with us, as we remember Drew. <br />
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As we achieve so much in his name, because DREW achieved so much, we remember him.<br />
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As we figure out life in this new season, Drew is with us, as we remember him.<br />
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You are a part of us, as long as we live, as we remember you, our Drew❤<br />
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Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-51596278499082314742019-08-27T19:19:00.000-05:002019-08-27T19:19:42.402-05:00Catching Up...Well, I knew it would be a whirl wind of a summer--and it was. We had so much fun and made some memories that will last a lifetime. It went so fast--Molly had her first full week of school last week! And in the evening this weekend, we needed our long sleeves as we sat out on our patio!<br />
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But let me start at the beginning...</div>
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First this summer, Molly and I took our Friendship Tour! We started off traveling to New Orleans to see the Knoll family.</div>
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...and then we moved on to Texas and stayed with the Gudgels for a few days!</div>
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We ended up added a third leg to the tour a month later when we stayed in Austin for a few days to spend some time in our hometown that's so special to us, and see our many friends there.</div>
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We had a half birthday party for Molly in June, and went to Corn Carnival in Iowa.</div>
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<br />We then were a part of my brother's wedding in Missouri over the 4th of July weekend. It was a wonderful time with family celebrating my brother and his new wife. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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We managed to venture out some in Chicago too--seeing the city from new heights after Warrior Wagon drop offs, and visiting the shore of Lake Michigan for a beach day.</div>
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<br />We did have a *few* slow days at home. We hit the aquatic park all together, found new parks to play at, and had smores over our firepit in the back yard.<br />
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We had a summer bucket list that we did a pretty good job of working through. It was one heck of a summer that I'm glad we were able to do, but next summer I think I won't schedule quite as much. We are exhausted!</div>
<br /><br />In the middle and in between all of this, there were moments that took my breath away. Moments that brought tears to my eyes. And moments that broke my heart all over again. I had dueling emotions, joy and sorrow, pain and happiness, all at once quite often. Each emotion very big and very genuine, which can be a lot to carry. I'm learning to expect it, figuring out the balance so both can be acknowledged, yet not overpower the other. <br /><br />As I get back to work around here--getting the housework, lawn work, and Warrior Wagons work all caught up, I'm realizing I have some catch-up to do on my feelings too. Some of these moments I still need to work through before I can begin to sort out the moments coming up--what would have been Drew's first day of Kindergarten, the one year mark of us being in Chicago and the day when it becomes longer that Drew's been gone then when he was here with us. So this second week that Molly's back in school, I'll take the chance to do just that, catch up on my grief work too.<br />
<br /><br /><br />One moment that triggered a wave of grief for me came as I looked over at Molly on the airplane back in June. I looked over and saw my little girl again. As we traveled together, she actual was quite helpful. Independent. And really, most days now she seems so grown up. Yet, every now and then, I still see my little girl. Who still loves her blanket and is scared of flies. Who even though she's showering by herself and getting all ready for bed, still wants us to do the full routine to tuck her in. And that afternoon she had found her own seat on the airplane and selected and started up her cartoons all by herself, but still sat and held her lovie while she watched them...<br />
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Its bittersweet to watch her grow up right before my eyes. I got to know her so much this summer, as we spent genuine quality time experiencing life in different places and families, and also visiting old places and families--our home from another chapter. We had conversations this summer about so many important things. I was so thankful to be with her to have them--and surprised how much I learned from them too. It shouldn't surprise anyone that talking things out is how I work through things, and my Molly and I worked through a lot this summer together.<br /><br /><div>
But it made my heart hurt. Not only to realize the days of getting a glimpse of my little girl are numbered, but gosh, I wish I had gotten the chance to know Drew like this. To travel with him. To see his strengths develop, to watch him transition from a little boy to a big boy as I'm seeing in Molly.</div>
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<br />Why didn't I get the chance to do with him what I'm doing with her? Why couldn't I have gotten to know my son the way I feel like I know my daughter??<br /><br />And then a still small voice whispers to my heart, "You will. Someday, you will..."<br /><br />But that morning after Molly and I got back from our trip, even after that reassurance, I still sat in my big chair next to his urn which holds all I have left of my baby boy, with his blanket in my arms, and cried for what could have been in this lifetime...<br />
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We celebrated with one of the first Warriors to get a Warrior Wagon successfully complete their treatment this summer. As I scrolled through their photos and watched the video of this wonderful little girl ringing the "End of Treatment" Bell, I was taken back by the difficult emotions that came bubbling up in my heart.<br /><br />We've been broken as we watched the lives of some of our first Warriors end, and I thought that was hard. But there was something different, a new kind of pain that I felt, as we got to see one make it through. Get the party, ring the bell, and "beat" their cancer. I wrestled with feeling so, SO happy for that little girl and her family, and at the same time, wishing it could have been us too. That we had gotten to share the smiling, triumphant post at the end of our journey instead of the ones I did share...<br />
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Just as my head was trying to talk sense into my heart, the same tough questions soaked in these difficult emotions came from my daughter's lips. And my head had to not only try to talk sense into my own heart, but into hers as well.<br /><br /><div>
But it was a good discussion--honest and tear-filled. I listened to what I spoke out loud as if it wasn't me explaining. Sometimes that happens, I hear my words, but feel the Spirit really is the one doing the talking. And that morning, He spoke to both of our hearts about how this world is broken, life isn't fair. Not everyone gets a happy ending this side of Heaven, and only God knows why. But there<i> will</i> be a happy ending. God<i> did</i> heal Drew too, we just haven't gotten to be a part of the party yet. But someday...someday we will. And we can't wait for our turn to celebrate😊</div>
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We will have attended three weddings this summer after this weekend. And at each, the love, enthusiasm, and hope of the new couple was shinning to all. It was cute, and warmed the heart. It was so nice to see these people that are so special to me filled with joy and "home" with their new partner for life.<br /><br />During these ceremonies, watching them vow to one another that they would be there for each other for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, really touched me. The words stung as they repeated them because I know all too well, that those worse times, sickness times DO come. In ways you never saw coming. And they shake you down to your core. Test your faith not only in each other, but in everything you once thought to be true. And in those times, it doesn't feel as magical as the "Big Day" felt. All you have to cling to is God, and the love, hope and enthusiasm you started with.<br /><br />I hate that this sounds syndical. I don't want to be jaded by this world and what's happened to us. But it<i> has</i> changed us profoundly, and how we see life now. And being a witness to all these new couples beginning their journey together this summer made me think about myself back then. Especially on our anniversary. I thought back to that young 22 year old blushing bride I was and thought, if she only knew what she'd face as she happily repeated those vows...<br />
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But you know? I'm glad I didn't. And I'm glad that whatever these new couples may face is hidden from them too. Because you have to start off so full of love and hope and enthusiasm or you'd never make it. And it's good for the rest of us to witness it.<br /><br /><div>
After 11 years, Josh and I have been taught a lot about life and death, love and commitment, and we still have so much to learn! It was good to hear those newlywed sermons, and think about the times when life seemed simpler. To be reminded of that young women, full of love and hope and enthusiasm for her new role as wife and to bring some of that back up to the surface again.</div>
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Each of these and a handful more I could have sat and wrote a whole blog about. But I only had 20 minutes before Molly woke up. Or needed to get this and that done before we left again. Or got distracted and never came back to it. <br />
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Which isn't so bad, right? I wrote in my journal, I talked with a friend. I prayed about it, gave it to God, and went on with the day. Continued to LIVE, while enduring the shots from grief. Something I promised my boy I would do as I watched his life end.<br />
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Putting this one together though, I miss it. It helps me so much to get it out, piece it together, add in the photos--the memories--and get it all worked out in my head. And as usual, if through my process even one person struggling with loss or disappointment, or questioning their faith can gain something from our experience, I'll keep writing. Because I have a lot of things coming up to write about! So fair warning..Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-37122031042582633682019-06-03T19:02:00.001-05:002019-06-03T19:02:04.201-05:00A Busy Summer AheadSummer is about to begin. In some ways, we've already began some of it's activities. Warm weather was a long time a comin' it seems, and since it's been nice we've gotten outside to enjoy it! Exploring our new home in the sunshine.<br />
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The park, eating meals out on our patio, going for walks on some local nature trails, ice cream runs at our new favorite place, and even hitting the pool this last weekend!</div>
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We already made a trip back to Iowa to visit family...</div>
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And attended the first of three family weddings this summer!</div>
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We have a lot ahead of us in the next 3 months. Soon after school gets out, Molly and I are going to visit some old friends in New Orleans and in Texas! I'm calling it Heidi and Molly's Friendship Tour😊 It will be so fun to rekindle friendships, reunite the kids, and see some new places together! Something we probably wouldn't be doing if things were different. But since we can, why not? #yolo <br />
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Then we have Corn Carnival in Iowa (a summer tradition of my parents' hometown), followed by a very big occasion in my family--my brother's wedding over the 4th of July weekend! <br />
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We plan to make a visit back to our hometown of Austin in Minnesota to see our family of friends before school starts again for Molly (Aug 14th!). And later in August my cousin in Colorado is getting married, and I have a girls weekend on the calendar in San Diego! Whew! We really couldn't have packed much more into the Summer of 2019.<br />
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It will be a wonderful season. A busy one! But full of family, friends, laughter, love, LIFE. Important moments, special celebrations, and no doubt, some regret at who<i> isn't</i> here to be a part of it all too.<br />
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In the last almost 2 and half years since Drew's been in Heaven instead of here with us, I've learned to expect the hurt along with the joy. That longing will be mixed in with the excitement. I now know that the more somber feelings don't have to overpower the good ones. I can be genuinely happy in the present, and a piece of my heart will always be aching for my baby boy. My head knows it's okay to enjoy life, but my heart will never stop missing my Drew. <br />
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As I think about, plan for, and get excited about all that the summer holds for us--experience tells me that it's wise to not push away the grief being stirred up. Spending some time allowing the tears to flow, for my heart to cry before these events are upon me, helps me to do better. I'll have released some of the sorrow, and therefore can be more present and embrace the joy of the moment. <br />
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So today, before Molly's done with school and becomes my shadow, I'm taking some time to do just that. <br />
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There will be Drew's once-playmates, without their old buddy. There will be little brothers and boy cousins that will be playing together--one short. There will be empty seats in the car on road trips, that could have been occupied. There will be family photos capturing big moments in our family's story, missing some very special people. <br />
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Even in the everyday moments this summer, I will be aware of what could have been,<i> who</i> is missing. I've shared before how Drew was not a cold-weather person. He never lasted long outside in the winter, but was the first one out the door in the warm months. Pushing his shopping cart down the sidewalks, sitting beside his sister as she drove the gator, running ahead to the playground at the park, making friends with anyone he could, even the neighborhood pets!</div>
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He only got one chance to swim in his older-toddler years. One week. On his Make-a-Wish trip in Florida, after we'd removed his central line, ended treatment, and let him be just a little boy again for the last 5 weeks of his life--he got to swim. And he loved it! </div>
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He'd have had a blast at the waterpark Molly and I will be at this summer...<br />
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Oh, I miss that boy. I miss being his Mom. </div>
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I miss the two of them together. Even if I know they'd be fighting! </div>
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I don't have as many of the visual prompts for memories here in our new home, and that may not be all bad. But if I close my eyes, I can still see the park we used to walk to. The school we went to for school lunch in the summertime. I can look through these photos, watch the videos, and for a moment, he's back to life...and my heart breaks all over again.<br />
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The day will come when I don't miss him anymore, because we are together again. Each week, each summer, we are one more closer to that day. And maybe then, I will see just how much he was a part of this busy Summer of 2019 after all. On the Friendship Tour right along with us. In each group of little boys playing. Smiling his big cheese ball grin in all the family photos at my brother's wedding. And right behind his big sister on the water slides...<br />
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Maybe, just maybe, if I look really closely with my heart instead of my eyes, I will see it for myself as it happens❤<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
<br />Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1314987668999163819.post-23471327125866880582019-05-09T19:26:00.000-05:002019-05-09T21:21:20.200-05:00The Little Red WagonA friend of mine gave us a collapsible wagon for my birthday. To "lighten my load" the card said. And it did. It was just a few months into Drew's treatment--he had just turned two, and the umbrella stroller wasn't cutting it anymore but I was kind of over the big stroller. I'd get Drew out of his car seat, set him right into the wagon. He'd be tucked in between my purse, his backpack with his feeding pump and formula, and his bag of medical supplies/diaper supplies/change of clothes and everything else. We'd wheel through the parking ramp and on to the elevators at warp speed because we never left anytime to dilly-dally before our appointments.<br />
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Drew would sit in there, and smile at everyone who would make eye contact with him (and some who didn't). Almost everyone would comment on his great little red wagon, or "cart" as some would call it. I'd thank them and explain a friend gave it to us and how useful it was. They'd politely not ask what was wrong with him which brought us here in the first place, but his bald head and feeding tube probably gave us away. <br />
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We'd get off on the good 'ole 16th floor of the Mayo building and as soon as I got us checked in, Drew would be climbing out of the wagon. He'd pull then his little red wagon around the waiting room--pausing to pick the next video on the screen or to pick a book from the rack the volunteers made rounds with. Others would smile at him and tell him how much they liked his wagon, making conversation with him. He'd beam proudly as he moved on (probably rolling over their toes) to the next set of people, fishing for more attention (I don't know where he got that 😉). This would continue until he heard his name called, "Drew Beck-y" he'd repeat when his name came across the intercom and make his way over to the door for oncology with a big grin on his face...<br />
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We used his wagon for appointments, at the hospital, during radiation, and when were out in other public areas that required a lot of walking. We'd haul things with it, even big sister who would occasionally ride in it. </div>
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It entertained too. Drew would pull it and push it, manipulating it every which way as boys do in lobbies, courtyards and hallways while we waited. And we waited a lot. It was a big deal if we ever forgot the wagon or left it in the other vehicle!<br />
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That little red wagon was very much a part of our lives in 2016, and became a part of Drew's entourage. It was there when he was doing awesome, and there when he was the worst we saw him.<br />
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I still have it in the back of my van. Transferred it when we traded the old van in last January. It's a comfort to me, a reminder. Of Drew and all that we experienced with him in that little red collapsible wagon. I joke someday maybe it'll be in a Warrior Wagon museum as the "Original Warrior Wagon".<br />
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We had talked about giving similar collapsible wagons to cancer kids and their families after we were done. It was something we knew we wanted to pass on. We just didn't realize it would be so soon. As we gathered up other frequently used gifts to fill the first Warrior Wagon, we could feel it was what we were suppose to be doing. Passing on in one package some of the most practical and useful things that were given to us.<br />
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You see, Warrior Wagons really began in 2016.<i> We</i> were the first Warrior Family. Drew, the first Warrior. The community is who founded it with each gift they bestowed on us that year that has became part of our Warrior Wagons today.<br />
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As Warrior Wagons started to take off at Mayo, it was a welcomed venture--helping others, and helping ourselves just as much in the process. The little red wagon was now Warrior Wagons, and continued to "lighten my load"--this time my load of grief. If you've been with me on my journey through grief thus far through Drawing from Drew, you read along as we found purpose again, gained our footing, through this little project of ours. </div>
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I'll always remember the time Molly and I saw a Warrior Wagon being pulled down the sidewalk on 2nd street the first year. We spotted it between the clinic and the hospital, not knowing who the family was. The look on Molly's face as she put it all together (that was one of OUR wagons!). It was the same feeling I had inside. They were strangers, yet friends, because they were in one of our little red wagons, Drew's wagons ❤ <br />
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I had the distinct feeling of Drew's presence as we drove by them that afternoon. I can't describe it any other way, but that I could<i> feel</i> his smile. And I get the same feeling when friends randomly send me "sightings" of Warrior Wagons around Mayo, it just makes my day.<br />
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The stories I've heard in the last 2 years of comfort, peace and comradery the Warrior Wagons have brought to their families have brought me to tears so many times. Each family's positive feedback stirring up a strange mix of joy and satisfaction, yet grief and regret that they even have to exist. That other families are going through what we did. It's an absolute shame, what these children and families have to endure. But, if we can make it a little easier, I'm thankful we can do it.<br />
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When we expanded to Minneapolis this winter--Warrior Wagons entered a new space, one that Drew never was a part of. Staff that didn't know him or us, but have agreed to let Warrior Wagons in. And now, Drew's there too. In the hospital play rooms and clinic hallways as they begin to fill up with little red Warrior Wagons, my Drew is a part of it. His life continues to make a difference in this world. Which means so much to a mother who longs so deeply for her son to be remembered, to see that his life mattered.<br />
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I am continually blown away by the support we receive. By way of encouraging emails, out-of-the blue online donations, groups requesting information for a collective donation, and even other organizations and businesses wishing to do fundraisers to benefit our Warriors! People's generosity and sacrifice is so beautiful. It daily reminds me that there is so much good still in this sometimes-awful world. That Love still does conquer all, and never fails.<br />
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There has also never been a shortage of people willing to support us with their time, skills, or abilities. Now with us out of the state, we rely on volunteers to do much of the ground work, and I've teared up many times at how willing people are to be a part of this project. I've learned over the last two years that there are many working parts involved in running a successful nonprofit. So much more than meets the eye, and a lot more that is seemingly unrelated to the actual mission!<br />
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But it has to get done, and people always come through. It's been amazing to watch as our closest friends to casual acquaintances step forward and help out. God is sustaining and supplying us so abundantly, it leaves me in awe. I can see now that us moving away for a time has allowed others a chance to fill in. Which has been a great thing for Warrior Wagons and our community!<br />
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It's another way I see Drew's memory living on too, as his active memorial is bringing people together. Some of the very people that gave to us, who started Warrior Wagons in 2016 as I said through their generosity to our family, are now continuing to give to those that follow behind us. <br />
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And then those that have received a Warrior Wagon, are giving back themselves! The volunteer family making it happen in Minneapolis? They are a Warrior family! They received a Warrior Wagon last year for their son, who has since transferred his care back to Children's, where they're from. They felt so strongly about Warrior Wagons, and were so eager to be a part of it, that they pushed us over the last few hurdles to get operating up there.<br />
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This family has been through a lot, but are still enthusiastic about helping others. The little red wagon is now being passed on third hand in the Twin cities. How cool is that?<br />
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I had the privilege of meeting one of our Warriors in person when I was in Austin last week. His family was kind enough to make a donation to us, and I was picking it up. Since we've moved, it's been a while since I've met and chatted with an adorable little Warrior. He was so well spoken, playful, and patient as his dad and I talked. It was a delight to play catch with him and hear him giggle. With his little cho-cho NG tube sticker on his cheek, and fluffy baby-duckling like hair starting to come back in, he reminded me of my Drew. I wish I would have taken a picture with him! <br />
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And you know? It didn't make me as sad as you'd think. I was surprised at how happy I left their home that night. To meet this little boy I'd heard about, to remember my Drew, and to know that this little guy was riding around in a little red Warrior Wagon too. What a profound feeling of comfort and fulfillment, but not without the heartbreak for what this sweet little boy has had to endure, and what still lies ahead. <br />
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The reason I was back in Austin was for a speaking engagement. I had the privilege of telling our story, sharing some truth we learned along the way, and explaining all about Warrior Wagons to a wonderful group of ladies at a nearby small town church.</div>
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I was giving speeches or presentations fairly regularly around Minnesota when we moved, but haven't since the fall. I'd love to get back into speaking again, as it felt wonderful to introduce people to my Drew! I lined up some other Warrior Wagon business when I was there, and it was so great to be hands-on once more. To be a part of the action, seeing our Warrior Wagons in real life again, discussing it with people face-to-face. I miss that. I miss begin able to take in what we are working so hard on.<br />
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But I might not have to miss it for too long. We have a meeting coming up with a big Chicago hospital. If the details get worked out, we soon may be giving Warrior Wagons to children and families in our new home. Expanding the impact of Drew's life even further. Supporting and helping more families with the wisdom and experience we paid so dearly for, whether we wanted to or not.<br />
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I think that's part of why Warrior Wagons has been so important to us. It brings purpose to our experience. It symbolizes more than just paying it forward, but overcoming tragedy. Living out our belief that because of the Cross, death never gets the victory, and it didn't in our family. I will never say Drew lost his battle with cancer. And even though our family sustained such a great loss, we surly did not lose either. Warrior Wagons is our declaration of that. And our way to encourage other families to have the same attitude.<br />
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I left Austin last week with my cup so filled with fond memories, hope and purpose. Little boys like my new friend Christian are having a little easier 'a time because of<i> my</i> little boy. Drew's life is making a difference in this world. People are coming together, sacrificing their time and resources to further this cause. A new city, a new branch of Warrior Wagons, may soon be born. God is using what the enemy meant to destroy us with for good--just like He promised (Genesis 50:20). I'm left so very thankful to be a part of such an amazing display of His power, provision, and love.<br />
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We're doing it, Drewy. Your sister and us--we are carrying on, moving forward, honoring your life just like we promised. I know you are with us, and with every little red wagon that has Warrior Wagons across the back!<br />
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Heidi Beckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02449475553528734047noreply@blogger.com0