Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Dinner Out Becomes More


I had a strong desire, compulsion almost, for Max and I to eat at one of our favorite restaurants, Ireland’s 4 Provinces. It was the last place that Jeff had eaten dinner out with us back in February with Valerie and Jeff W. We used to go there far more frequently than we should have, but it was always an inviting place.
From afar, we watched as a wedding party continued their post-reception celebration. As we were on our last course, Travis the manager on duty stopped by the table. We first met him about four years ago when he was waiting tables. At first, he was without a name to us, but we knew him by the spider tattoo on his arm. He was always pleasant. I felt compelled to explain why Jeff wasn’t with us. Tears leapt to my eyes. I don’t like to cry in front of others. Travis sat on the edge of the booth seat as I said that Jeff had had cancer, and told us that he had been diagnosed this spring with a form of leukemia. He also named quite a list of others from the restaurant—staff and regulars—who were fighting and had fought cancer.
Travis is undergoing treatment that will continue throughout his life. His doctor, who had been Jeff’s oncologist, says that if one wanted a cancer this is the one to have because it is very treatable. Wryly, Travis said he really didn’t want one, thanks anyway.
My guilty feelings for an unnecessary extravagance turned into thankfulness for being able to share a moment and concern with a fellow traveler. I asked if Travis minded being added to a prayer list. He said that it’s okay, so I ask for prayers for Travis, of the spider tattoo, for healing but also for strength and even joy in the midst of the journey.

Romans 12:15
Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Holy Tears


On Friday, Max and I went to see the last of the Harry Potter movies. We got to the mall early to pick up our tickets, and thus had more than plenty of time to walk around. I felt better for being able to walk with few crowds around. Only the early morning walkers were getting in their laps. We were on our third lap when we came up behind an older couple. They weren't going fast. He was a bit bent. My first thought about them was about how good it was for them to be getting their exercise at a time when many older adults have given up.
We stopped at Brookstone where I sat in the massage chair. Maybe it was the physical relaxation but my thoughts were free to wander. I remembered the older couple on their walk, and I imagined myself at their age, and then suddenly realized that the one I had always assumed would be there walking with me wouldn't be. A few tears leaked out. A few more came when I thought about how much Jeff had wanted to see this last HP movie.
I know we will encounter a great many of these moments of a renewed sense of loss, especially this first year, but also in the years to come. I truly do believe that when we are in the heart of God we can never be separated from those we love who are also in God’s heart, but that doesn’t completely take away the sense of loss here and now.
It gives me comfort to know that Jesus who had the power of resurrection wept over the death of Lazarus. His tears and my tears, even though they don’t have the last word, are still precious and holy.

John 11:34-35
He said, ‘Where have you laid him?’ They said to him, ‘Lord, come and see.’ Jesus began to weep.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

The Waters Shall Not Overwhelm


I feel as though I am drowning in details. During Jeff’s illness, I worked on lots of them so that when the end came, family and friends would be able to gather in a true celebration of his life. Now that folks are back to their lives, the details continue to pour in. At some moments, I have energy to face them. At others, I would rather go hide. I start a project, get some of it done, then have to move on to something else either because it was overwhelming me, or because C can’t happen until B and A are done.
Thank God that I am supported by terrific folks who are truly there for us. Jen sits across the table from me, taking on extra details that I normally handle. Mirta gently and graciously shields me from too many calls. Valerie helps pack up clothes. Bill, far away, but closer than a heartbeat almost, is there when I need him.  And I am more than grateful.
There are some things that no one else can handle for us. There are the anxieties that go with loss, and the worries about being a single parent. When the 4 a.m. wakeup happens and I can’t go back to sleep (not everyday fortunately), sometimes the tide of anxiety rises. That is when the words below from Isaiah resound more deeply in my soul. We are not alone. We are surrounded by many, and by the One who is always there.

Isaiah 43:1-2
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Give My Heart


What can I give him, poor as I am?
If I were a Shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
if I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
yet what I can I give him: give my heart.
In the Bleak Midwinter, Christina Rosetti, 1872
The last line of this song has been echoing in my head these last few days. When the choir at Christ Crossman sang this at Christmastime, Jeff often sang one verse as a tenor solo.
I have felt so full of gratitude these last days that it is difficult to express it clearly. My gratitude is not only to my Savior who was and is and will continue to be the gift of all gifts beyond my understanding, it is also to and for all who have surrounded my family and me with so much love and support. The prayers, the food, the notes, the cards, the calls, the thoughts have been overwhelming—in a good way.
To greet so many who loved and cherished Jeff (and us) throughout so many parts of his and our lives—his colleagues at St Charles, his students, his/our past parishioners from his churches before his retirement, our colleagues through the years, and more, was a treasure on Friday and Saturday.
I truly understand the sentiment of Rosetti’s poetry—“What can I give…, poor as I am?” Your gifts of love have filled the spaces in my heart. “What I can I give…: give my heart.” You have my heart. Thanks be to God for each of you for all you have done and continue to do. I give you my heart.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.