December 20th!

Happy Anniversary Chris!  Twenty-four years!
The kids are taking me to dinner, we'll take in some jazz too and we're going to S.A.M. for the Picasso exhibit.  I'll miss you terribly, as I always do but I do so rejoice with you.  You remind me daily of the Promise that is each of ours.    
Loving you always!
Your sister in our very present Christ,
Leigh

Big Band Dance

Tonight was the jazz big band dance at Kentridge, Eric's high school.  It was a nice way to start our Christmas break watching my kids dance together and getting to dance with my son a bit myself. 

Staying Open

It was nine months last Saturday.  I meant to post a blog but life and busy-ness and Eric's homework were all vying for my attention too.  We're three quarters of the way through the first year.  In some ways it's still very surreal at moments.  In some ways I can't believe how far we have come.  We've grown a lot, we're closer to one another, we've each changed.  Those awkward, awful weekends of early on have been replaced with a growing normalcy.  Fourteen will never be what it might have been for Eric but I also appreciate greatly the maturity and deepening of his spirit.  And college stuff is in perspective for Emily in ways I don't remember at her age.  So we've grown.

I think I have fallen deeper in love with God than I ever knew I could fall.  It's almost as if God simply stretched open my heart and whispered into it, "you have no idea how I can fill this space if you only stay open to Me."  And that's my biggest take-away in life thus far...stay open.  Stay open even when you think you already have a pretty good idea about things, stay open when it looks scary or filled with hurt, stay open at all costs because Grace enters the open doors in life far faster than closed ones, into which Grace must push and knock repeatedly. 

A week from today would have been our twenty-fourth wedding anniversary, five days later is Christmas and it is into that reality that I find myself yearning to stay open.  Leaning in to Grace, realizing that God is so much bigger than I can imagine, that God has my children in His care far more tangibly than I can myself and surrendering them in their tender years and their grief to Him.  Parenting is far more about praying than anything, not for God to DO something as much as for God to remind me they are His more than they are mine, something mothers work a little harder to accept at times, I think.  Still, there is a freedom in that acceptance.

And so we stay open, as individuals, as a family...and God just floods the space.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Puzzles

Last year it was the Seattle skyline and he didn't feel much up to helping.  Between the months of chemo and then radiation afterwards, Chris was simply too tired to help with the jigsaw puzzle.  We've had one every year.  During that time when the academic quarter ends and as we head into Christmas we just seem to gravitate to the slowed down pace of a jigsaw puzzle amidst all the other things of life. 

Chris had Job's patience for them, I had enthusiasm but I was pretty terrible at organizing them.  I always got the border done and then he would find his way over to the table and begin this process of fitting pieces that I plain couldn't see or didn't work hard enough to see.  Like in so much of our life Chris brought patience and a methodical determination.  Last year he offered encouragement from the recliner but I was still pretty much on my own with it and that felt a bit weird.  It also took longer that way.  Still, Chris had imparted a desire to learn patience in me and I managed to get it finished before the new year.

Little did I know the ways in which God would be preparing me to face the coming year and everything it held.  Like always, however, God is at work keeping a covenant with me, writing a story and remaining totally faithful.  And so I poured the pieces of this year's puzzle out on the table, it's a map of the ancient world.  Somehow I think Chris would approve of the choice, it's got both kids engaged in the history of it. 

Like my life, the pieces of the puzzle are fitting together in places, offering glimpses of something greater.  Chris witnessed to me the value of patience and God has lovingly and consistently taught the lesson to me for years, especially during this last one.

December offers so many opportunities for "grief moments," a phrase the kids and I use for the official calling of a time out in our house.  Our anniversary is on the twentieth, there's obviously Christmas and more poignantly Christmas Eve, which will mark a year to the day since Chris was last in church.  He had been unable to get there after then, exhausted from radiation.  He sang every word of the Hallelujah Chorus at the end of the service, you would have never known how sick he was then because he sang with an enthusiasm and love of God that was palpable. 

And so the dining room table is adorned with a jigsaw puzzle, pieces waiting for a patient hand, something I learned from Chris and God.  I am grateful that God is patient with me as well.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Thanksgiving

Pumpkin pies are cooling, the tree is up.  Pajama clad kids are still nestled in their beds, 19 and 14 but looking especially innocent and sweet to me this year.  It's early Thanksgiving morning and I'm very present with the thoughts of all the many Thanksgivings in my past. 

Chris was a perfect southern gentleman when it came to appreciating good food and he made over my dinners each year like we were dining at the nicest of restaurants, telling me he couldn't take in another bite but always finding room for a bit more.  Then he would doze in his chair with one eye on a football game and one on the kids and I miss that.

Life changes.  We're facing a day without him, our first significant holiday and everything is tempered with that awareness.  When we finished cleaning up last night, Eric said I can see Dad sitting right here, looking at this Disneyland picture of Emily and me and getting that smile and slight laugh that he would get.  Then a couple of tears streamed.  I said I missed him too and Emily was right on my heels, yelling from her room that she did too.  So we stopped everything we were doing and met grief right there, where it once again screamed for instant attention, this time speaking first to Eric but engaging us all.  We all knew it but we hadn't said it out loud just yet. 

I love that we can be real.  Grief is real and saying it hurts is real.  Being able to pick up a picture and cry that your Dad can't see it too is real.  Being real and honest and allowing the waves of grief to wax and wane and to be felt is how we live now.  And God meets us in it, right where we are.

So today is Thanksgiving and we ARE thankful because the blessings are bountiful in our lives.  Yes we miss him, yes we face hard moments but Chris' life now is this very real testimony to the Sacred Promise.  And the smell of pumpkin pie hangs heavy in our home, a reminder that we are a family taking a little more time for gratitude today.  Once again, God draws us close and the Mysterious Divine says it's all okay, we are a part of an eternal story...and for that we give thanks.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Ornaments

I found the ornaments.  They were packed away in the back of the closet under the stairs.  I knew they would be in there, that's where they have always been stored, for the last seventeen years in fact.  Thanksgiving has just kind of snuck up on us this year and that's the day we put up and decorate our tree. 

In December of 1985, Chris and I were dating and approaching our first Christmas.  He didn't have a lot of money, I didn't have any more than he did so we went for a walk through the woods behind his Grandmother's house to cut down a cedar tree to bring back inside and decorate.  We bought some lights and one pack of ornaments but the little tree still looked pretty empty so I went through some things at home until I found a few things to make some homemade ornaments for his/our tree.  Chris was so sweetly grateful and gave those little creations of mine far more praise than they deserved.

A year later in December of 1986, just days after our wedding we put up our Christmas tree and Chris brought out the ornaments he had saved from the year before...the ones I had made.  And every year those ornaments are lovingly placed on our tree, a reminder of that first Christmas, merely 19 and 22 years old and with lots more Christmas spirit than earthly money.

Amidst the smell of turkey and pumpkin pie, warmly tucked inside of our home amidst the cold drizzle (and possibly snow this year) of a Seattle Thanksgiving, those same ornaments will once again find their place on our tree.  They will be joined once again by little teddy bears, ten in all, marking the first five Christmases of both Emily and Eric.  They will be joined by lots of other ornaments representing the life of a family including a golden key from 1993, our first house.  This year we will also hang a lovely angel, carved in wood by a woman at my childhood church in North Carolina, with Chris' name and 1963-2010 written upon it.  I think we will hang that one last...completing this year's tree.

I found the ornaments...packed under the stairs...a box full of the history of this family.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Eight Months

Still missing.
Still celebrating the blessing he received.
Still changing.
Still a family.

The Power of a Name

Grief is a really funny thing.  It slips up at moments demanding attention like a stubborn toddler.  And like that toddler, it rearranges things a bit, yes you may be cooking dinner but I want your attention NOW and I'm going to demand it to the point that you have to pause and at least take notice.  A dear friend grieving the loss of his mother related a story of being instantly teary when the clock struck 12:34 at his house one day, a reminder of his mom's dying breaths.  A woman at church shared with me the teary moment when her finger rubbed past a chip on a plate that was made by her late husband dropping it.  We ALL do this kind of thing, it's the nature of grief.  To mourn is to do the work that grief stands there demanding, even though you had other plans for that moment.

I wonder why it's not the bigger things that present such moments, but the seemingly innocuous.  A yard filled with leaves to be raked (Chris' job) doesn't seem to phase us, after all that's also a source of exercise and we just rake them.  Trash cans and recycling bins put out and gathered in each week, again formerly Chris' job, just get handled because that's what we do.  His wedding ring on my hand, another on Emily's, a watch on Eric's wrist, all of these things have been incorporated into who we are now and feel like normal life.  So what is this thing about grief standing there with something as innocent as an article on the OP/ED page of the paper that I just KNOW he would love as I am half reading and half making dinner.  The toddler screams!  "Pay attention to me and do it NOW."  Tears drip, a son notices, a hug is given, a daughter comes in, now a group hug and then memories come pouring out.  "Yes Dad would like that article but he would have so liked this show on the History Channel last night, let me tell you about it..."  "I was on campus today and I ran across a colleague of Dad's and I thought about how the last time I talked to her I was with him..." 

Where did our intense, almost explosive grief outpourings of late March and April go?  We spent Friday night after Friday night either crying or at Dairy Queen.  We didn't finish making dinner and move straight into homework back then, I think we were living off ice cream on some of the worst nights.  So what happened?

I've always been fascinated by mythic writing and how the quest is always to learn the name.  Learning the name of something or someone ends up giving you the power in those kinds of stories.  It invites an intimacy of discovery in which the thing or person that once held all the cards no longer has total power over you.  That's the walk of grief.  The kids and I have been on a quest of sorts, on a journey...to learn the name.  And in learning to name grief, it's power lessens.  Do I still miss Chris horribly?  YES.  Do I daily see what the kids and I have lost?  YES.  But I know grief's name now and I am actually surprisingly grateful for what it has taught me and how it has transformed me. 

It is the power of story.  It is the power of the name.  And throughout, it is the power of God and engaging in an ever deepening intimacy with our Mysterious Author.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

For All the Saints

For all the saints, who from their labors rest,
Who Thee by faith before the world confessed,
Thy Name, O Jesus, be forever blest.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

Thou was their Rock, their Fortress, and their Might;
Thou, Lord, their Captain in the well-fought fight;
Thou in the darkness drear, their one true Light.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

O blest communion, fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
Yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

From earth's wide bounds, from ocean's farthest coast,
Though gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
Singing to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
Alleluia, Alleluia!

All Saint's Day

Sunday is special, it's All Saint's Day, Reformation Day and Chris' name will be read as one of the saints that was born into the new life in Christ during this past year.  We are fortunate to have a church that streams its services live on Sunday mornings.  So, for those of you not in Seattle, both the bulletin and the link to the 10:00 a.m. PDT service are on the website
http://www.upc.org/

Chris LOVED the hymn "For All the Saints" and it will also be sung at UPC.  This particular Sunday tugs at the Moravian roots of this Presbyterian woman and I am reminded of mine and Chris' even more favorite hymn which I share here for your contemplation in prelude to our universal celebration of the Church Triumphant.

The graves of all His saints Christ blest, And softened every bed;
Where should the dying members rest, But with the dying Head?

Thence He arose, no more to die, And showed our feet the way
To follow Him, enthroned on high, At the great rising day.

Then let the last loud trumpet sound And bid our kindred rise.
Awake, ye nations underground; Ye saints, ascend the skies.

And from the liturgy of the Moravian Church for All Saints Day:

Let the great cloud of witnesses, the unnumerable company of those who have gone before and entered into rest, be to us an example of godly life.  May we, with patience, run the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith; and obtain an entrance into the everlasting kingdom, and with the glorious assembly of saints, worship and adore Thee, through Jesus Christ, our Lord.  Amen!

Thanks and praise to our Lord Jesus Christ for the Church Triumphant, the truly glorious cloud of witnesses surrounding us and for the Presence that is ours even in this life.  At almost eight months after the most stunningly hard moment of my life I say with complete assurance that we worship a loving and good and very present God.  He is indeed both Mystery and Lover of our souls and we are a blessed people.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Music!

When I think of Chris in heaven I think of him understanding all of those economics models that he pondered all the time.  I also think of his trumpet.  Surely the heavenly music is beyond our comprehension and hearkens to the angels proclaiming the news of Jesus being born.  So, while Eric primarily plays his bass in jazz band and his baritone in concert band, we still love our trumpet music in this house and yesterday was really special.

Chris found Jonathan on Trumpet Herald, an online community of people as rabidly trumpet oriented as Chris always was.  Jonathan is the first trumpet for Sammamish Symphony Orchestra and Chris was ELATED when he was invited to try playing with them.  Long story short, Jonathan is an engaging, graciously kind guy who, a couple weeks ago, treated us to an evening of playing Chris' trumpets in our living room and filling our house with the sound of music at the level Chris played and it was blessing beyond measure.  Yesterday, Sammamish had a concert and they needed a C trumpet and Chris' is quite nice so Eric and I loaned it to the Symphony and they sent us tickets for the concert.  Actually they sent the season's worth of tickets but yesterday's concert was something special. 

Once again, on the stage of Eastlake Performing Arts Center, Chris' C trumpet brought a joyful sound to an amazing concert of Overtures.  Eric was in his new suit from the Harambee the other night and he was ever the gentleman, offering an arm to his mom and amazing me at how mature he really is.  Intermission found us in the midst of a conversation about how he wants to take in more classical music, that we should search the Seattle Symphony website to see what works for us and can we go some.  Surely, SURELY, Chris must have been rejoicing in heaven upon hearing his son yearn for more classical music.  I whispered a "way to go Dad, he is truly your son" towards the sky and am looking forward to taking in more concerts with my son.

Music is Eric's passion, he's a heavy metal loving guy, who also loves jazz tremendously, sports an i-pod with Guns-n-Roses, Frank Sinatra, Glenn Miller and now Haydn.  He loves Ella Fitzgerald and Metallica and is searching i-tunes for a Concerto from yesterday's concert.  Music is a healing art and a connecting one, joining us to the saints that have gone before.  And we LOVE music in this house and always have it on, from classical to metal and always always our beloved jazz.  I get teary at the thought of Chris in God's Immediate Presence, along with Handel and Haydn and so many others.  We share that music with him and we keep him in our hearts.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Dinner, Wine, Friends and CLEAN WATER

Last night was MAGICAL!  We attended the Women's Enterprises International http://www.womensenterprises.org/ Harambee.  We got all dressed up, we took the money we had collected from our loose change each day, we took our friends and we drank wine, ate dinner, talked and listened.  Once again I was reminded that life is pretty easy here and VERY hard for so much of the world.  And I say this with more feeling than I can express, even in the midst of our lives, life is so much easier here than we EVER fully grasp.  I looked across the table at my beautiful daughter, dressed up, boyfriend on one side, another dear friend on the other, enjoying a nice dinner and with a clean glass of water at her place.  She never had to walk miles to help find it for our family, she simply turned on a faucet.  And, in fact, we don't drink water from our faucet, we've deemed that not healthy enough for our western bodies, so we filter out the impurities.  We are water elitists.  She got to go to school as a little girl, she is now in college. 

Emily's counterparts in Kenya are rarely so privileged.  Girls walk miles for water, they carry heavy containers on their backs and they are often easy prey for people who would do them harm.  They are often raped, infected with disease and live very hard lives and many do NOT go to school.  School is still a privilege there, not like here.  Kids don't wake up in Kenya wishing it was the weekend so they could sleep in, they truly feel the honor of education because they know the alternatives.

And so we went to dinner and we listened.  An amazingly radiant Kenyan woman shared about lives changed from something so simple, clean water.  Two mostly full carafes sat on our table, adorned with lemon slices and ice cubes...western privilege.

I missed Chris last night but I felt him intensely.  Chris was changed by Africa, he was changed by Central America, he was changed as a little boy by Antigua and he appreciated the value of clean water.  Chris didn't waste water, he HATED when we did.  And by supporting the cause of clean drinking water we also honor him and his life and continue the good work that was begun in him.  And we honor and worship and love God when we care for His people.

What exactly IS western privilege?  It's not just the fancy cars and overly large houses we have, or our clothes or furniture, it's not our fancy degrees from years of education.  It's as basic as turning on the faucet...running from it is western privilege.  That's a really powerful image to me.  I am confronted with it over and over every day...water, at the ready, from a faucet.  I rinse my toothbrush in western privilege.  That's an incredible thought. 

Last night was amazing.  We were surrounded at our table by the people we love the most, at an event we care deeply about.  But the most important thing was what was said, CLEAN WATER SAVES LIVES and it should NOT just be a western privilege. 

Thanks Chris, thanks for being you, for fussing when I left the sink dripping, for reminding us of how much water we used when we showered, for not being happy when we poured it down the sink because we didn't drink it all at dinner.  Thank you for making me so aware of the less developed world that I can't possibly be content in mine without helping them too.  That's ministry, in it's purest sense.  God started a good work in you and we are picking that up. 

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

New Beginnings

It's been a busy couple of weeks, high school football, relearning geometry so I can lend Eric a helpful homework hand, me back in school, commuting with Emily, which is seriously FUN.  Still my daughter but also increasingly my grown up sister in Christ, she went to bible study at church with me this week and spoke up intelligently and asked insightful questions.  At one point someone mentioned what a great group of women were in the room and the word women included my little girl and I was especially proud.

I have met new people, new classmates, new friends at church, but people who only know Chris from my descriptions and that's very weird to me.  And that's part of what my future holds, creating and maintaining relationships with people who don't see me as Chris' wife when I still very much see myself in that way.  I think always will.  And I think that's okay.

Cancer changed my life.  It came in to my home and my world and took an integral part of the definition of Leigh away and I'm left with this space that is begging for definition and which I am not yet ready to define.  In one of my classes we went around the room and were asked to say our name and something about us...I said this, "I'm Leigh and God has me on a need to know basis and all I need to know today is to be here."  Definition will come, I'm just not yet ready to know that part yet.

I miss him.  I am confident I always will.

God has tight hold of me.  I am confident of that too.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh
 

Prayer

"Regarding Prayer -- Circumstances may not change but you will be unrecognizably transformed." 

  Wish I could give credit to whoever said that in my presence.  I know roughly WHEN it was said and am sure of where but not a clue as to who.  It's in the margin of my bible, the one I used in college, in Intervarsity.  Intervarsity was the first place where I saw people writing in their bibles and not just a little bit but a lot and I have lots of little notes in the margins...nuggets that were thrown in my direction, reminders of a campus ministry that supported and sustained me in my undergraduate days. 

  Years have gone by and this statement written down in the margin of my bible a long time ago speaks total truth to me. Unrecognizably transformed...the result of prayer.  I've been engaged in a lot of conversation about prayer lately, have been reading a lot on the subject and that one statement says it all.  Circumstances may NOT change, but you will.  Prayer changes our hearts, it realigns them with His and it deepens the level of intimacy in our relationship with the Holy One. 

  My life is not what I had planned, nor what I wanted when I lifted up my prayers a year ago but I am unrecognizably changed, even to myself and the intimacy with Him is rich.  What more could I ask?

Grace for you journey,
Leigh

Alarms, Panic and God

I had a moment of panic this morning.  It probably wasn't helped by the fact that I need to be up at 5:30 a.m. each morning to make our mornings flow smoothly and the clock was saying 6:19 a.m. when I first opened my eyes.  How could I have forgotten to set the alarm clock??  Eric had a moment of panic too when his frantic mother burst in and told him we were late and to shower fast.  In retrospect it wasn't the most loving way to wake your son for a mom.

As soon as I had Eric on the bus and I reached for my coffee to get centered, panic spiraled.  I'm going back to school next week, how do I make it fit in and how am I going to pay my part of the tuition in the long run and how this and how that...  So I opened my Bible, mine falls open pretty naturally to Lamentations because I live in that book, I devour that book.  And there it was..."The Lord is my portion..."  How could I not have remembered that when I was panicking over time?  How could I so panic myself about the future that I worry about bills for tuition that haven't even arrived yet?  The Lord is MY portion.  The LORD is my portion.  The Lord is my PORTION.  The Lord IS my portion.  No matter where you put the emphasis that statement speaks truth...life giving truth. 

"The Lord is my portion, says my soul."-Lamentations 3:24

Life is going to bring mornings where alarms don't go off, it's going to bring car repairs unanticipated, jobs ended, all forms of grief, it's going to bring bad days and good days and all the in between days.  It's going to bring...LIFE and we all know it and we all live it.  But the Lord is our portion and we are held and we are LOVED.  If God has grace for us, what more can we ask?

If my alarm had gone off properly I wouldn't have spent the morning reaffirming this Great Truth that is mine.  The Lord really is my portion.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Gentleness

When Chris died and I found myself sitting in my pastor's office, I remember asking him "So am I crazy or are you supposed to feel this way?"  You can fill in the blank for what I was feeling.  WHAT I was feeling doesn't really matter so much actually, it was just all new and I felt so helplessly at the mercy of feelings that were swamping me and I was so very much needing grounding.  Well, I have not only a good pastor but an EXCELLENT one.  He gave me the advice, the admonition actually, to be gentle with myself.  So I then drove home tossing in my mind the definition of being gentle with oneself.

In the last six months I have learned a lot about being gentle with myself, about the nature of all of us and our need to care for ourselves as human beings.  The first thing is that things take the time they take and we grieve what and when we need to grieve and it's all okay.  I've learned to say when I can't do things and I've learned to pursue the things that are healing.  I think we naturally gravitate towards healing.  We gravitate toward healing best, however, when we feel the hurt and lean into it enough to let it teach us.

And I've learned a lot about prayer.  God can handle ANYTHING I have to say and its important for me to say it.  It's easy to sit back and say "Well God knows everything so He obviously knows my heart and I can't say it right anyway," but I NEED to say it.  In laying my heart out before God and crying out to Him I let go of my own need to control and direct my life and give that to Him, where it truly belongs.  That's a part of being gentle with myself too.  I can't guide my life, I can only align my heart with God and go with that.  Gravitating towards healing is gravitating towards the God who heals.

The immature part of my soul wants to say "Make my life easier" and yet the call is simply to surrender my life and realize that easy or hard, it's given over to God.  The real challenge in life isn't to ask for better circumstances, it's to engage God amidst whatever circumstances we have and be honest about them.

God has this very graceful way of meeting us in the hurt and bringing genuine peace...it's the Living Water thing.  And things take the time they take and protecting your soul's need for that time is pretty important.  God is at work...just stay in relationship with Him...and He will transform your life.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Six Months...

Remembering...
Lovingly held by the Great Mystery...
Six months of the deepest submersion into the reality of the Total Love that is God...
Touching on glimpses of the Promise that is for all of us...
Rejoicing with Chris that he SEES, that he KNOWS, that he is truly HOME...
Missing him immeasurably still...never forgetting.

Six months of a journey.  Grateful for one another.

We love you forever Chris!

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

A big day...

We did a lot today...it may not seem like a lot but it was to us.  Eric and I drove Emily in to Seattle U today and the three of us removed two bookcases from Chris' former office, the last things of his things left there.  It is no longer his office, I am no longer a faculty spouse, Emily and I are students there and Eric will be in time but there is no longer an office there that is his...that is ours.  My kids napped on that floor as Chris and I would eat lunch some days.  Eric played in that floor when I was in class a few years back, Emily retreated to it most of her freshman year between classes.  They knew where the snacks were, they knew it was a mess in there but it was his and it was special.  So that was the first thing we did today...we took what is ours and said goodbye to what is not.

The second thing we did was go to Kentridge, school starts for Eric tomorrow, he's a freshman.  We walked through his schedule, from one end of campus to another and we met the new band teacher.

Life moves forward and God continues to teach us how to be in relationship with Him and one another in this new life of ours.  And life is good, although different.  Tomorrow morning my son gets on the bus to go to high school.  It feels like yesterday that he slept in Chris' office floor during our lunches as just a baby but tomorrow my baby is in high school. 

And I have learned that the most valuable tool of motherhood is the power of prayer so that's what I do.  I stay in relationship, talking to, whining to, yelling at and praising the One who loves my babies and me more that I have ever even imagined loving.  I'm nervous a bit about this year, it's new and different but I'm also excited.  We are three people with the world at our feet, both individually and as a family.  The Great Mystery will continue to guide us through the story of our lives and we're ready.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Today

Eric in front of a 1959 Corvette at the Lemay Car Show.  We had beautiful weather here in Seattle as we celebrated and remembered Chris on his birthday.  We looked at so many cars and I kept hearing Chris' words about them all, he knew SO MUCH about old cars and greatly appreciated them.  It was another Godly timed moment for the Lemay show to happen exactly on his birthday. 

Christian Ernst Weber
born August 28, 1963
Winston-Salem, North Carolina

Happy Birthday!!
We love and miss you!
Leigh, Emily and Eric

August 28th

Tomorrow we celebrate Chris' birthday, August 28, 1963.  He would be 47.  This year his birthday is more for us than for him.  Scripture teaches that time doesn't really exist in heaven and that a day is like a thousand years.  I truly rejoice with him that he is fully in the Presence and knowing a peace and blissful grace that I can only touch on and imagine. Tomorrow I will remember all the birthdays we shared together.  With the exception of his 45th birthday, which he had while in Ghana, we shared every birthday from his 22nd until tomorrow, 23 of them in all.  He never once failed to praise my baking or not be abundantly grateful for even the simplest of gifts.

So, tomorrow morning about nine in the morning the kids and I will head to the Lemay Car Show, a yearly pilgrimage of Chris and Eric's and of mine last year.  We will stop by the post office to drop his birthday present in the mail, a gift to Women's Enterprises.  We'll get dinner out and have cake.  August 28th will forever be etched in my heart as a special day.  Happy birthday sweetie! 

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Hanging in here...

Two tonsils down, two to go!! Emily is in summer school, studying Ethics, and next in line for surgery. Then on to a fall free of sore throats theoretically. She's going to double major, English is being joined by Philosophy. And in great surprise Eric announced he is leaning more toward SU than Gonzaga. Could it be mom back in grad school there this fall and his sister loving it there is swaying him?? The family that studies together???

Do we sound semi normal?? We're finding our feet and the blur of the first couple of months is a little better. Still we face Chris' birthday on the 28th, but we face it together. He would want my chocolate cake so we're going to have one. He would go to the car show, so we're going. He would want gifts to go to Women's Enterprises, so that's where they will go.

We're still here. Hanging in here together, holding tight to one another, each comforted by two people who GET it. Still missing, still teary, still remembering...but Chris LIVED and he lived intentionally and authentically so that's the best way to honor him. And to trust in and surrender to a Loving God who takes perfect care of him today. It's comforting to be able to talk to him at times and say, "Hey I'm still looking through that mirror dimly thing, so be patient with me." Hard as it is to feel his absence, I really AM rejoicing in his being truly Home.

And so we trudge on, going back to school...all three of us. Normal?? A new one. Thanks be to the Loving God who really CAN just get you through anything. Trust that...I'm POSITIVE.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Why

On January 12th of this year our family drove to Swedish for Chris to have the first surgery in a plan that would have him on maintenance chemo and cancer free by the end of April. Obviously it didn't work out according to our or our doctors' plan.

On January 12th of this year 200,000 Haitians died in a 7.0 earthquake that ravaged their country. 2,000,000 were left homeless.

On January 12th God was holding a family in Seattle. On January 12th God was holding families in Haiti. God holds, loves and carries every day and every single day someone is having a January 12th or, in our case, a March 4th. One of the consistent questions I get emailed, asked in the store, on the phone, even at church...is this..."How can you still have faith that God is there, that God is good, that God really does love you?"

My trite answer when I am tired is "bad things happen to good people." My theologically thought out answer is that scripture is filled with examples of people whose lives were ripped apart from the human viewpoint and God rebuilt them and is invested in who we all are as people. The answer that resounds loudly in my heart is simply that I feel Him. I feel Him when I sing hymns, when I work in my garden, when I sit up late at night with sick kids. I feel Him. It's really that simple. And yes I have those same questions..."but why do You let this happen or that happen?" I get frustrated with Him, I don't understand Him, I can think of no other way to describe this God than He is a Great Mysterious Lover of my soul. And yet I feel Him.

I see through a mirror dimly, but I am in good company. St. Paul saw through that same mirror, as did Moses and Jeremiah and my own Aunt Dorothy and Grandmother Bowles and Grandmother Sell and now they all see clearly and I will too one day. Chris was an encourager to me, he was that person who always was in my ear saying I could do it and to try. I feel that even more so now, he sees clearly. Scripture is filled with examples of God at work, of lives forever changed, of a people who see dimly and then SEE and I firmly believe we are not only readers of that story but a part of it.

I don't know why Chris died at 46. I don't know why the surgery plan blew up in our faces so badly. I don't know why there are hundreds of thousands of children orphaned in Haiti. I don't know why things have happened in Darfur. All I know is that God is God and I am not. And I FEEL Him.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Remembering...

It was five months last Wednesday. I spent the morning in the hospital with Eric, having his tonsils out. I spent the afternoon with him groggy, hurting and on narcotics. I spent the whole day thinking this is something the Mom should do WITH the Dad. And yet we felt his presence, one of the heavenly hosts of saints and I know we are held by our Loving God who has carried us through the last five months. Today, I'm back at the same surgeon's office, scheduling Emily's tonsil surgery. Remembering and missing are part of life now...

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Okay so they humored me!!

Emily, 19
Eric, 14
Leavenworth, WA

Cars, Birthdays and Micro-Lending

Chris had a passion for old cars. Actually that's an understatement, Chris LOVED old cars and we always had to stop when he saw a "classic." He had a strong love of 55 Chevrolets, he appreciated old Corvettes thanks to our son and he was FILLED with car trivia. It is poignant and perfect that this years Lemay Car Show in Spanaway is on his birthday on August 28th. What better way to honor the life of my husband and their father than a pilgramage of sorts to a car show that boasts one of the few Tuckers in the country.

Yes, we are planning a birthday, where we want to eat afterwards, the cars we want to see, etc. Eric is going to take over as guide for the show, he's easily the most knowledgeable fourteen year old car guide I know. He was trained well by his Dad. We are planning a very special birthday and we would like to invite you to honor Chris' birthday as well in special way as well...with a gift to Women's Enterprises in his name.

After much conversation with my kids and prayerful contemplation of my own, I have decided that his birthday, our anniversary and on Easter to claim the promise of Eternal Life in Christ, I will contribute to this organization. I have been working on answering some questions for an article for an alumni newsletter at Seattle University. I shared with the SU folks a conversation Chris and I had in the fall and wondered to myself why I hadn't written about it here before now. It was during chemo, he was tired, we were enjoying a quiet morning together, sipping coffee and talking about what we wanted our lives to stand for and to mean. He said, "In addition to my life with you and the kids, I just want there to be a village somewhere that knows I lived, that knows I made a difference in their lives." That's why I chose Women's Enterprises for memorial gifts in his name. They will be the means to help me continue the good work that began in Chris. They are the instrument I will use to be his earthly hands and feet and I need your help to make that happen. Together, with your help, these women will help me insure there IS a village in Africa that not only knows Chris lived but knows that he cared deeply that their lives were made better, that their children were educated and that clean water was a RIGHT for them and all people.

So, when you see an old car going down the road this summer, you will think of Chris, as we do. And if you are in Seattle, perhaps you will take in the car show. On August 28, 2010, on what would have been Chris' 47th birthday, we will be there, likely with some tears, definitely with a camera and following after Eric who will undoubtedly impart some information about them that Chris taught him. And we will also honor him with birthday presents to Women's Enterprises. Please do the same.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Women's Enterprises
c/o University Presbyterian Church
4540 15th Ave. NE
Seattle, WA 98105

*make a memo note that it is in memory of Chris Weber

Backyard Discoveries

We hit Duplos in the backyard! Eric was elated. We also found countless plastic practice golf balls, a couple of baseballs, two tennis balls, one very dead volley ball and one Roll-around person. We're landscaping our backyard, the part of which was overgrown and where we had thrown raked leaves, fallen branches, etc. Along the way we have turned into archeologists of sorts, tracing childhood of Eric especially, countless toys, and lots of "Oh I remember that..."

We're taking a Sabbath rest today, we're sore and tired, we're slowly getting in shape too, it's hard work. Chris did so much of the landscaping in the yard that it's both easy to feel close to him while working in it and feel like we are honoring him in working on it more and making it increasingly pretty. We have planted some flowering shrubs, to remind us of our first summer and of the healing that we still continue to do. Healing doesn't mean forgetting or not missing, it means learning to adjust and live with an ever present absence. It means learning to be together in the yard and say "Dad would really like this" or "Dad wanted to plant some more trees here." The three of us sweat together out there, we dig and clear and haul and remember. And Eric uses the chain saw much to his delight, he is truly all boy. Emily loves flowers and gardening and is a strong example of a Jesuit education, constantly working more and more toward sustainability and using our yard to grow more fruits and vegetables. And oh my gosh can she split wood!! Chris taught her and she is our official wood splitter and she's not only good at it but she likes it.

In a little less than two weeks it will be five months. I continue to be blessed with the two most amazing companions God ever gave a mother and I cherish them beyond words. We continue to hurt and miss Chris and yet to rejoice with him that he has eternal life with Christ. I've read a lot of books, I've talked with others and my conclusion is that grief is what you feel and there is not a correct way to grieve. I also continue to experience the complete trust that God is meeting us each exactly where we are, as He always has and will.

So if you are in the Seattle area come see our work in progress...our backyard...and our lives.

Grace for your journey and a glass of ice tea for your Sabbath summer day,
Leigh

Faithfulness

Do you ever think about how many times you load your dishwasher? Do the same load of laundry? Mow the yard? Vacuum the carpet, etc.? When Chris died life seemed to divide for me, into the life before he died and the life after. The tasks, however, did not. I still load, unload and load the dishwasher every day. I still do laundry. The maintenance things of life don't stop just because our lives change. Early on, I waffled back and forth as to whether these things were more annoyance or comfort. I was tired, I had zero energy for much and I wanted to spend what little I had on and with my kids.

This arrived in my inbox today, further proof to me that God has invaded my email and continues to pursue my spirit with an unrelenting love and persistence:

"Faithfulness is the consecration in overalls. It is the steady acceptance and performance of the common duty and immediate task without any reference to personal preferences-because it is there to be done, and so is a manifestation of the Will of God... The fruits of the Spirit get less and less showy as we go on. Faithfulness means continuing quietly with the job we have been given, in the situation where we have been placed; not yielding to the restless desire for change. It means tending the lamp quietly for God without wondering how much longer it has got to go on. Steady, unsensational driving, taking good care of the car. A lot of the road to heaven has to be taken at 30 miles per hour." - Evelyn Underhill

And so He continues to coax me into deeper relationship with Him, encouraging me to stay in that relationship even when I am baffled by Him. Our loving Lord is dedicated to His daily tasks of loving and pursuing US. I'm grateful for the example of His faithfulness and persistence...it's the model of how to live that has kept me going for almost five months now. When the worst thing I could imagine actually happened God Himself picked me back up and said live.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Bandaids and Blackberries

We have a big yard by Seattle standards. Up against the back fence blackberry vines perpetually try to invade and every spring Chris dutifully took his clippers, donned his leather work gloves and did the guy thing and whacked them down. They never overgrew thanks to his faithful commitment to maintaining our fence line. Last summer he was newly diagnosed, undergoing very high dose chemo and it was all I could do to keep the yard mowed, let alone find and take care of the details of some of what he had always done so they didn't get cut back.

Tonight I am covered with scraps, long scratches, bloody socks and lots of bandaids. The blackberry vines have once again been beaten into submission. I'm sore, I'm aching and I'm pretty banged up and I'm realizing once again what a quiet yet diligent man I married. He spent a good long day each spring doing what I spent today doing. I don't remember him being too sore, or at least owning it. I don't remember bloody socks or bandaids, but he was smart enough not to wear shorts. :>( What I do know is that as I continue to try and fill his shoes on so many levels I realize those shoes were pretty big. I also realize I can't ever truly fill them, nor should I.

There will always be an absence in our lives, time won't change that. But I AM comforted, I felt his presence in my backyard today, I felt him lovingly saying why don't you wear long pants. I feel him often, gently nudging me on not only in homeownership and parenting but in my faith. What a good man I married and what a loving God I have guiding me through the challenges of life. I just need to remember the long pants.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Trust

This arrived in my email box this morning:
"If I didn't have spiritual faith, I would be a pessimist. But I'm an optimist. I've read the last page of the Bible. It's all going to turn out all right." -Billy Graham

It's all going to turn out all right? Even MY life?? Even that of my kids?? Yes! Apparently even for us and for each of you. It's all truly going to turn out all right because of our Loving God. At closing in on five months since Chris was born into the new life with Christ, I have begun to find snippets of normalcy. I'm praying for a couple of people specifically right now, one who is facing significant physical issues, another who is facing emotional ones. Is life going to turn out all right for THEM?? Yes, for them too. Will my prayers be answered in the ways I am hoping?? Perhaps or perhaps slightly differently or radically differently but they WILL be answered. And healing of body, mind and spirit will come.

I used to throw salt over my shoulder when I spilled it on the table. It seems silly to me now but I remember it vividly. I used to say "take that back" when someone would say "well I could die tomorrow." That seems not only silly but wrong. Control in life is an illusion for us...and yet we are invited into relationship with One who will guide, protect and care for us always. It's a promise. It doesn't always go according to OUR plans or what WE think is the best outcome, that's the downside of that mirror dimly seeing that we all do. When you allow yourself to embrace the fact that you don't have to try and control things, that you really ARE genuinely loved and held by God, there is a peace that takes over your life and a pure energy that fills it. Staying in relationship doesn't mean understanding anymore than we ever have, it only means staying in relationship and knowing that this Great Mystery really does have you. And I believe with all that I am now that it really is all going to turn out all right. God is God and we are not.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Normal Life

Amidst the ever present absence and the intense grief moments, normalcy DOES come at times and I know Chris is very proud of us when we have the normal moments. We had a GREAT 4th. Eric blew up all manner of fireworks, Emily caught up with some friends and I enjoyed the company of my and Chris' very best friends.

And today finds us sleeping off a long evening of fun, sweeping the street and driveway of fireworks remains and heading out to Eric' bass lesson this afternoon. Chris, I know, is proud of us. I miss him tremendously still but I also rejoice with him. I think often of what it must be like to be completely in the Presence. Our pastor once again hit the nail on the head in his sermon yesterday. Check that out at www.upc.org and clicking on the sermon link.

God is God...and each day I realize more and more just how tightly held I am by this Mysterious Lover of our souls.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Four Months

Still missing, still loving, still leaning in to the Presence. Still held.

Hiking and God

We went hiking today...we went to Deception Falls. Emily and Eric skipped across the trail like little kids, scaled the rocks like mountain goats and thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Emily said it the was prettiest place on the planet and Eric truly enjoyed the hike. Chris would be proud, I think he IS proud.

Life is here and our planet is filled with riches. We miss Chris, more than I can say. Yet life is here now and today we went hiking and my kids smiled a lot. I wish things were different and Chris was here with us but he isn't and Emily and Eric are amazing companions and today we smiled.

We went hiking today and God was right alongside.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Breakfast and Saints

I sliced a banana to go on my Rice Krispies this morning, then I sprinkled on a little sugar and poured the milk. I learned this one from my grandmother. I haven't had Rice Krispies in years until the kids asked for Rice Krispies treats the other day so I got a big box at Safeway and I pushed past the sticks and twigs of my heart healthy cereal and decided to go for it this morning. Obviously Grandmother made an impact. I used a bowl from Chris' grandmother, a woman who also made an impact on my life. I have Aunt Dorothy's ring on my finger and a devotional Chris' Dad gave me years ago. I'm surrounded by the saints that have gone before me, including Chris.

The Church Triumphant has taken on a deeper meaning in the almost four months since March 4th. The fact that we are an Easter people is powerful and incredible and REAL. Amidst the sadness and pain of grief there is a celebration, the sting of death really is as powerless as Wesley proclaimed. It doesn't make the missing any less difficult but it really does help to define Whose we are. God really IS as engaged and active in life today as He was in the lives of Abraham and Moses and when we allow ourselves to experience that it's rather awe-inspiring. Scripture itself is an organic thing, still teaching, filled with the ability to nurture us today and we really WILL see one day as we are now seen. Being patient with that concept is hard, accepting that we just can't know everything now is even harder but no less our calling. God is at work in us and our world.

I sliced a banana for my Rice Krispies this morning just like Grandmother, I read a devotional from my father in law, I used the bowl from Grandmother Bowles, I saw Aunt Dorothy's smile in my heart when I looked at her ring and I truly cherish my own wedding ring from Chris. I am comforted by the saints who have gone before me, who now see fully. I am reminded once again that I belong to God and I continue to fall deeper in love with our Great Mystery.

I'm glad the kids begged for Rice Krispies treats...

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

My House

I now live in a yellow house. It's bright and sunny and new. When we bought our house in the summer of '93 our choice was driven financially and so when the house we found was gray there wasn't a lot of wiggle room to purchase AND paint. So we lived in a little gray house which was fine in the sunshine...HOWEVER winter is gray in Seattle, the driveway was gray and we routinely said, "We need to paint when we can." Chris often said, "We need to paint something bright, a nice yellow to chase away the winter blues." It had been our plan to celebrate his surgery completion with a new coat of paint on our house and, of course, it was planned to be yellow. Therefore, when it came time to paint, the color was not the decision, only the timing of the paint job. The painter wasn't even the decision, Chris wanted a man from our former church of whom he thought very highly, Deane Brotherton. So, yellow paint in hand, Deane has worked brightness into our lives. I know Chris is pleased.

School is over for the summer. Eric, our baby, is now a rising freshman. High school seemed worlds away for so long, preschool seemed like yesterday but this fall he starts at Kentridge and he's over six feet tall. Emily is officially a college sophomore, sporting a GPA that has me bursting with pride, despite a very difficult freshman year for our family. And life moves forward in our little yellow house...different than before, still with tears at times, but forward and with promise and hope.

I truly cherish my little yellow house, I cherish the two wonderful people who share it with me, I cherish the memories it holds and the future it will see. God is present and holds and carries and nurtures and speaks, even when our ability to listen is minimized. God is the constant that makes life work and I'm grateful. I cherish that most of all. Blessings DO abound, I am just slow to count them at times.

I now live in a yellow house...and the sun still shines above the Seattle clouds...and God still shines on us all.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Happy Birthday Eric!

Happy 14th birthday Eric! You have your Dad's eyes, his love of the trumpet, his sense of humor, his thirst for history and astronomy. Fourteen years ago tonight your Dad held you in his arms and then you helped to hold him in your own arms as he was born into a new life in God in March of this year. You were given almost fourteen years with a wonderful man of God as your Dad and you are emerging to be a wonderful man of God yourself. I both enjoy and admire you as a person. And you and the world should know that Dad and I are very proud of you...tonight and always.

Love,
Mom

Hymns and Worship

Thank you Grandmother, thank you Mom. Thank you for insisting that hymns be learned, even if the only way you learn them is just sitting in church and hearing them over and over. Thank you for reading the Moravian Daily Texts every day, I still remember Grandmother's bookmark she kept in it. Thank you for teaching liturgies, for always saying "say your prayers." And thank you that church was not optional.

Eric didn't need the hymnal in church yesterday, neither did Emily. They just knew the words too. So why does that matter?? Do I just want to show off in church that my kids know all the words?? Not at all...but those words will come into their hearts and heads at those moments in life when it gets hard. They are the songs of praise and confession, of hope and lament and of the basic understanding that God is God and we are not and all our trust is to be placed with Him.

Somewhere in the act of worship we not only experience THAT hour but lay the foundation for all the hours ahead. Thanks be to God!!

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Make a Difference!!

If you read this blog then you know our story. If you have been praying for us, if you prayed for Chris then be someone's ANSWER to their prayers!! Go to http://www.kiva.org/ and change a life.

Chris' favorite story of change was the one of the man and the starfish. For those of you who don't know it, a man was tossing beached starfish back into the ocean. Another man came along and said you can't possibly save them all, there are too many, how can you make a difference?? The man answered, "I can save this one, I can save this one" as he threw one after another back into the water.

If you have a PC then you have $25 and you are the answer to someone's prayer. How does it feel to know that you are THAT important, that God Godself is calling YOU just by reading this blog to be an answer to prayer? I believe that's true. Visit http://www.kiva.org/ and look into their eyes, click "lend" and meet these people. They don't want your money forever, it's just a loan. They WILL pay you back. They are more dependable at doing so than most Americans in fact.

Would you loan ME $25 if you thought it would change my life or that of Emily or Eric??
Be an answer to another mother's prayer!!

Grace for your journey AND THEIRS!!
Leigh

Three Months

In some ways March 4th feels like just yesterday. Still, in other ways, it feels like light years ago. Grief and pain are like that and they are very easily swayed by tiredness. Three months later we are still very tired, we still have more days with tears than without them and we struggle to find a new normal. And yet three months are but a blink in God's timing and I can speak for the kids and myself when I say that we continue to rejoice in both Chris' freedom from pain and his blissful happiness in the Immediate Presence.

In the last three months I have also fallen deeper in love with our Lord's grace and gifts to us as His children. He perpetually sends uplifting words and redirects my heart back to Him. He calls to me daily, as I know He does all believers. So why do I hear Him so much more clearly now?? Perhaps when the absolute worst thing you can imagine happens and you still have breath you begin to recognize the stripped down nature that is humanity all the time and realize control is merely an illusion. Perhaps I recognize my own needs for Him more and for that I humbly ask His forgiveness, my need is no greater now than it ever really was. What I do know with complete certainty is that Jeremiah spoke truth in Lamentations when he said God's steadfast Love NEVER ceases. New mercies DO come, even amidst extreme grief and pain. God is not only real and active and at work in His people and His world but He genuinely loves us in a manner that we can't possibly fathom. He guides, loves, directs and holds us through a life we often perceive as unfair and unjust, where good men die all too young, where children are hungry and war still prevails. He IS at work and staying in relationship amidst our lack of understanding is our only job. Faith is about believing in the One we cannot even comprehend and knowing with all that we are that our Mysterious Lover is truly Perfect.

Three months later I still miss Chris, painfully so. Three months later I still find peace. God is God and I am not and for that truth I am eternally grateful.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

My Grief Observed

I remember the first time I read about Lucy pushing through the back of the wardrobe into the land of Narnia and taking me with her as I read. I remember when I first read the words of how to mislead humans in Screwtape. Then years later to have found a church home where my pastor was a famous scholar on the writings of C. S. Lewis I was once again being taught and being fed by his writings. So in that light it was with great need of my own that I turned to him to understand grief a bit better, specifically that of losing a spouse. I found instead a rawness of his own pain and little comfort initially.

Today, on Pentecost, as I once again turn to the words of "A Grief Observed" I am left with this passage to ponder...

"One never meets just Cancer, or War, or Unhappiness (or Happiness). One only meets each hour or moment that comes. All manner of ups and downs. Many bad spots in our best times, many good ones in our worst. One never gets the total impact of what we call 'the thing itself'. But we call it wrongly. The thing itself is simply all these ups and downs: the rest is a name or an idea." Chap. 1, p. 12 A Grief Observed

And so once again pressing on is the call, staying in relationship with One I will never understand but feel both comforted by and to Whom I am inexplicably drawn, not out of some false hope but out of the deepest respect of the Perfect Mystery and Complete Grace. He will continue to hold me through "all manner of ups and downs."

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Apples and Peanut Butter

Chris was one of those people who could make most foods look better just by eating them...and I don't mean elaborate dishes but really simple foods. One of his favorite snacks was apples and peanut butter. He was methodical with them. He would slice the apple perfectly, he always got a plate and a nice knife and sat down at the dining room table like he was about to enjoy a nice Sunday dinner. Then he would proceed to slice the apple, seed it and smear it with a dollop of peanut butter that he spread perfectly even. I don't even like peanut butter truthfully but by the time he had gotten his snack underway I was usually there saying, "Oh that looks amazing, can I have a bite?" That's one of my favorite things to think about when I remember Chris, he could take simple and make it special.

Tonight I was cleaning out the cupboard and in the very back I found a jar of peanut butter. Emily, Eric and I are a bit odd for your average Americans, none of us really cares for it and why waste the calories on something you don't even especially like. So I stood in the kitchen with a half eaten jar of peanut butter and thought of Chris. Then I got an apple and smeared some on, it wasn't the same. And that's how life goes...it's NOT the same but we ARE finding life. Watching Eric use the chain saw just like his dad, listening to Emily uses phrases that she stole right out of his mouth, catching myself dumping the grass out of the lawnmower in the same spot he did, even though it's getting a little deep there, all of those little things remind me that this man totally made an impact. Just like he could with apples and peanut butter, he helped to make our very normal and simple American family into something really special.

So the jar of peanut butter will stay in the cupboard for now...I need the reminder...not of what I have lost, I don't ever need to be reminded of that. I need the reminder that with care and time, simple things can still be special...and Chris would really want me to continue to make them so.

Grace for your journey and peanut butter for your apples,
Leigh

One Word

A year ago tomorrow life changed. One little word, six little letters...CANCER. On May 15th of last year, we heard that word for the very first time. The only thing that would eclipse the shock and pain of that day would be five days later when we got the results of the CT/PET scan and heard the words "liver metastasis." When I was a little girl, I remember trailing along after my mother at church and the store and places and hearing little old ladies say things like "he didn't last long," "it just happened so fast" about people who had died from cancer. Seven year old Leigh was bored and ready to go home, 43 year old Leigh now realizes that there was a person behind that story...and a family and a lot of hurt. And lives that were forever changed.

In the last year here is some of what I have learned...the names of chemo drugs like Avastin and 5-FU. I have learned that Ondansteron is an amazing anti-nausea drug that only people with good insurance can afford and that slipping extra pills to other people can make their lives a little easier and I have lost total respect for pharmaceutical companies. I have learned that chemo drives white counts down and Neulasta pushes them back up, but with a cost of making you feel like you have the flu. I learned just how strong the man I married really was when he got up anyway, put on a smile and was still a Dad and how important church was to him when he would make it there no matter how bad he felt and how he would make our anniversary dinner really special even though he was badly anemic. I have also seen how wicked sepsis is and how little doctors really know about how to treat it. And I have met more specialists than I ever dreamed and both embraced and had it out with hospital nurses. I became well aware that I would fight for the dignity of ANY member of my family by moving out of my polite and quiet shell and taking people to task...that a mother lion lurked in my heart even more intensely than I had previously known. And over and over I fell deeper in love with these people who are my family and this loving and grace filled God who holds us.

At the same time, in the last year, I watched my first baby graduate from high school, I watched her enter college and do very well despite heavy burdens that few freshman carry. I watched my son change from a little boy to a man. His deep voice and six feet of height failed in comparison to the emotional maturity that became his this past year. I watched them BOTH make it to every chemo treatment, wait patiently through every CT report until we emerged from the oncologist's office to tell them the results. I watched them sacrifice the carefree nature that can be 13 and 18 and be saddled with heavy burdens for their tender ages...and they did it lovingly and gracefully and wowed us over and over at the human beings of God they are.

In the last year I went from being Chris' wife to being Chris' widow. I went from parenting WITH an amazing man to single parenting. And tomorrow's significance is that it really was awfully fast. One year ago tomorrow the word cancer changed my life...and the lives of Emily and Eric. My maternal heart breaks for the pain they have endured and from which I cannot shield them. One little word.

And still...there is another word...an even more powerful word, one that changes my life and that of my children EVERY day, even more powerfully...God. And it is to Him that we pray and to Him that we cling...as we face not only tomorrow but all the tomorrows to come. I am forever convinced that life is totally a God thing, that we will never understand it in human terms and that it's inherently GOOD even though it doesn't always feel fair.

And so here I am on a beautiful Seattle spring day, windows open and a gentle breeze flowing through our home. I am here with a stuffy Eric who is battling bronchitis and laying on the couch beside me. I am here waiting for Emily to come home on the 102 and tell me about her day. I am here with pumpkin muffins in the oven and chicken soup on the stove. I am here wondering what tomorrow will hold, will we be sad, feel weird, feel lost... I am here...and that's really the most important thing to remember I'm starting to realize. I AM HERE. And God has me. And God has Emily. And God has Eric. And God has Chris. And so we press on...a family on both sides of the mirror, three seeing dimly, one seeing perfectly. And God's grace is the universal constant.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Joy

"When are we going to be HAPPY again? I can't pen that question on just one of the three of us in this house because we all ask it from time to time. We do catch glimpses, we are not void of laughter or silliness in our home. General happiness, however, is quite fleeting. Yet there IS joy and our Lord once again creates teachable moments amidst pain. When I pour myself into Scripture each day, I find myself surrounded by nothing but teachable moments amidst pain...thus we are in good company.

Happiness IS fleeting and it was before Chris died and it was before he got sick. It is for everyone. Joy, however, is not and thus worthy of St. Paul's identification as a spiritual fruit. Eugene Peterson writes, about Psalm 126, that "(j)oy is not a requirement of Christian discipleship, it is a consequence."* He further alludes to joy as being a product of abundance.

So, the consequence of staying in relationship with the One who loves us is the joy that WILL sustain even when happiness is long absent. We begin our third month today without Chris. I sit at my desk drinking coffee that I will never again share with him and the concept of happiness is a bit foreign. Yet there IS joy and there is Relationship. I wouldn't wish my experience on anyone, nor that of my kids...but I DO wish I could convey the consistent presence of the Wordless Mystery. He really does bring joy and for that I am grateful.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

*A Long Obedience in the Same Direction - Eugene Peterson

Two Months

When we've been there ten thousand years...bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise...then when we've first begun.

Two months -- March 4th to May 4th. Two long months for us in this life. Yet this life is but a prelude to our true home so, even while we miss Chris tremendously, we rejoice that he sings on.

Through many dangers, toils and snares...we have already come.
T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far...and Grace will lead us home.

Thanks and praise to the One who keeps us from falling.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Rope Swings and Family Love

"The best two dollars I ever spent..." That's what Chris said about this rope. You can't see from the picture but when you swing a bit farther you go out over the yard a bit. This picture was taken in the late summer of '08, not long after he got back from Ghana. Swinging on it with Eric pushing was Eric's reward for helping with the yard.

Eight weeks ago tonight I was holding my husband knowing that our earthly hours together were very limited and this little boy held his dad's arms around me so he could hold me back...saying "I'll help you hold her dad."

Two dollars of rope, mowing the yard together, swinging on a swing, holding very weak arms up, that's love, that's family and this is a glimpse of the depth of our loss.

Tonight, we reaffirm our belief in a loving God who sees ahead of us and shows the way, who will empower us still to be family and to love. And tonight I am grateful that, despite the depth of our loss, He holds, loves and embraces MY husband and THEIR dad in His heavenly arms.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Eric Accepting Membership On Chris' Behalf

• Eric accepting membership in the Alpha Sigma Nu Jesuit Honor Society on Chris' behalf. Presenting it to him is Father Steve Sundborg, President of Seattle University. Onlooking is Father Peter Ely.
  

Summer's Coming

The sun came out today. It was quite welcome. After the downpours earlier this week, I was glad to be outside again. Eric and I were talking about summer and how to make it a good one. Suddenly he said, "It will be good and normal until about 6:00 pm each day." Part of me had hoped I could be so spectacular at parenting, climbing rocks, shoveling the ten cubic yards of topsoil we have ordered, gardening, etc. that it would make it a nice one for them. I mean I throw a mean spiral for a girl and the football is all pumped up and ready for some backyard play. I can throw up a baseball and hit pop flies as well as any guy so I would like to have thought I was set for a good summer for a fourteen year old. Still, I'm not Chris and I can't be Chris and I miss him too...more than there are words to say. So, I said, "Well Eric, I guess we do the best we can and when 6:00 pm comes around each day and Dad doesn't get off the bus in front of our house, we understand that we are just going to be a little sad, huh??" He said, "Yeh, I guess so, and maybe we should move dinner to another time and it won't be so weird."

That's life right now...in a nut shell...WEIRD. You can't live with another person for 23 years and not find their absence anything short of weird and empty and sad. And you can't have a Dad as terrific as Emily and Eric have had and lose him suddenly and not find that weird too.

So, the sun came out today, summer is showing signs of arriving once again and we face this one without Chris. Footballs will undoubtedly be thrown, Folklife Festival will be attended, vacation will be taken, the yard will be mowed, the grill will be fired up, the firepit will be used, on Chris' birthday an old car show will happen and we will go in his memory...life will happen. Yes it's weird, yes it's hard but the God who has held us through so much in the last few months will undoubtedly hold us through this too. God is God and we are not and we don't have to have any answers because He has them all. Life and our first summer...it's a trust fall. Thanks be to God.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

White Wine Spritzers and Twenty Five Years

I changed clothes at least five times, finally settled on blue capris and a white sleeveless top with matching blue earrings. We went to Corbins. I got a white wine spritzer, they were very IN in 1985. He got a beer. We talked and danced, I spilled my drink on him because I was nervous and then we went for a walk in Old Salem. We went for a drive, he said he had something to tell me, then he kissed me and Leigh, the college freshman and Chris, the new college graduate became Chris and Leigh, the couple. And for twenty four years we acknowledged April 20th with flowers and cards...and would have today, the twenty-fifth anniversary of our first date, as Emily and I talked about just this morning.

A lifetime has been packed in to the last twenty five years, a wedding, three apartments, a move across the country, a house and two wonderful children. I had thought that today I would have a husband with a newly resected liver and on maintenance chemo to stay cancer free and we would celebrate both that and our first date. And yet, life doesn't always go according to OUR plan. Today, Chris IS cancer free, it will never touch him again, and he doesn't need chemo to keep it that way. Today, I DO celebrate the first date I had with him. Today I see through a mirror dimly, but Chris truly SEES. And that's bittersweet but I DO rejoice with him and for him that he is in the Presence of our Lord. I miss him terribly though.

Today, I chased down a metro bus in a bathrobe to get Emily headed to school on time. Today I made french toast and sprinkled it with powdered sugar to lure Eric out of bed and to school himself. Today I have laundry to do, bills to pay, paint to choose and calls to make to re-enter seminary in the fall. And today, I will have a white wine spritzer. Thank you for asking me out Chris.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Sickness...Grace

"How's our boy?" He would always call a couple times a day and ask that very question whenever Eric was sick. Working though he was, Chris was a consummate father. For the last three days, Eric has been sick, pretty danged sick actually...high fever, bad tonsils, bad ears, throwing up, etc. And every time the phone would ring in the daytime I would, for a second, think oh the thoughtful Dad is checking in again. And I have faced one more thing I didn't anticipate about life. Yet Eric IS slowly improving, antibiotics are a good thing sometimes, even for natural medicine loving me. And with his improvement, one more first time is accomplished, "first sickness since Chris died" got crammed into first birthday and first Easter week.

Along the way I found myself going back to Weight Watchers this week, a healthy baby step for me, after a year long sabbatical from it. I chose a new day and a new group but it feels right, like a good thing. Finding little steps towards a new life is hard, but no less right. A very good best kind of best friend read to me out of the Gospel of Matthew this morning, where Jesus talks about being the God of Abraham, the God of the living and once again, through scripture and friendship I was reminded that life continues past this world and these bodies we inhabit and that all really IS well. YES, the missing him continues...INTENSELY SO, yes, the shock of it still sinks in at times...SURPRISINGLY SO, yes, the love never ends...ETERNALLY SO but life DOES go on, because God is God and we are not. And for THAT truth, I am very grateful.

Our Lord did the most gracious thing this week when Easter fell on the one month anniversary, and I was again comforted by the real constant in this world...that God does go ahead of us, showing us the way, preparing the path, keeping us safe. How can we really ever be genuinely afraid of the unknown when it is KNOWN to God?? Doesn't reduce the anxiety and stress of human life but it eases it a bit and certainly takes away the fear.

And so our boy is sick this week, but Chris knows that already. He also knows that God is caring for Eric and each of us. It would be so wonderful to pick up the phone and hear him ask how he's doing and it hurts that that isn't going to happen. But I am choosing to count blessings today and when I started my mental list I realized the list was infinite. I also realized that it's our calling to continue the good work started in Chris and think more globally about micro-lending and poverty in the world. I realized that loving and honoring my husband means picking up the tasks at hand that mattered not only to him but to God.

OUR boy is sick, but he's been to the doctor, he's got an antibiotic for his ears and throat, he has clean water to drink, a warm bed to sleep in, and the various creature comforts of being a middle class kid in America. We really have a lot to give back and that realization is yet another blessing from God. Because the reality is that God has good work to do in each of us.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Happy Birthday Emily!!

April 5, 1991
6 lbs. 6 oz.
Durham, North Carolina
Emily Jane Weber

Nineteen years have passed, but I still remember...we got in the room, just the three of us. Chris unwrapped the blankets around our new baby and counted every finger and every toe. "She's perfect." Those were his exact words. We quickly took on our new names, Mom and Dad. And then oh how she grew, yet still my baby. She has her father's eyes, she has his love of knowledge, she has his sense of humor...and I love being her mom.

So, on behalf of your Dad and me, Happy Birthday Emily!

Love,
Mom

He Is Risen!

Jesus

And can it be that I should gain
an interest in the Savior’s blood!
Died he for me? who caused his pain!
For me? who him to death pursued?
Amazing love! How can it be
that thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
Amazing love! How can it be
that thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

Remembering the Gift today...

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Four Weeks of Grief

Four weeks today...it's like our spirits just KNOW and we don't even have to look at a calendar. Sometimes I wonder when Thursdays will be normal again...then I realize that we are going to have to find a new "normal" because Chris was part of our normal. I'm lucky in a lot of ways, my kids talk and they talk a LOT. And they articulate grief in really remarkably direct and mature ways. "I was sitting in class and for a minute I had to remind myself oh yeh it's real, Dad really died." "When are we ever going to stop being SO tired?" "Who are we now because one of us is gone and we were part of each other and now one part is gone?"

Grief is HARD, it's like a lurking sea dragon in some ways...it sneaks up and drags us under the water and we gasp for air. Then we go for a few days and the waters are calm and we flip on the radio and we find ourselves laughing even...but the sea dragon is under those seemingly calm seas and we each know it.

I think I quite likely have the most remarkable young adults on the planet to share this journey with me. As close as chemo and surgery drew the FOUR of us, the THREE of us seem to be drawing ever closer in the pain of our shared loss and they amaze me in their ability both to feel their own stuff, share it with me and then turn around and be there for me as well. And while it hurts, and believe me, it HURTS badly, we do it together. That helps...and I KNOW it would make Chris really proud of us.

Sunday will be Chris' first Easter in heaven and our first Easter without him. It will also be a month to the day since he died. There is a lot of comfort in it actually. Proclaiming that Easter promise has never been more real to me than this year. I've always trusted in it, now I have SEEN it. And our Lord is shoring us up each day for the pains and hurts of the grief we feel and giving us blessings amidst it all. Each day the daily bread really comes. God meets us in the hurt, God meets us in the tears, God meets us in the tremendous amount of homework backlog and the paperwork of the legal side of it all. We fall, God picks us up, we cry, God blesses us. Whatever we face, God has already been there and knows the way and guides us lovingly and gently through.

And I would be terribly remiss if I didn't state for the whole world to see that part of my daily bread each day has a name, two actually, Emily Jane and Eric Christian. I thank God for them over and over, my babies are emerging in to wonderful vibrant people of faith and I cherish them as my companions with God in our journey of grief.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

New and Old

The office kind of fell into place in the last few days. It's very reflective of my energies in particular. It feels cozy and very Leigh on the one hand and a bit sad on the other. Chris will never sit in this office at the computer we have shared, in the room in which we once constructed Eric's crib together. I watched a video the other day, Eric was about two, he was sick with a fever one Sunday morning and I taped him talking and playing with me in this very room while we were waiting for Chris and Emily to get home from church. The moment the car pulled into the driveway Eric joyfully said, "It's my dada, it's my sissy." The tape ends with Chris walking in, handing me a church bulletin and a kiss and saying "Hi sport, feeling better?" to Eric. So there is a heaviness in this room and new furniture and a new floorplan can't erase that. And I never want it to.

Next Sunday marks two things: a month to the day since he died and Easter Sunday. Our Lord is very good to us in so many ways and there is a lot of comfort in the significance of the date for the three of us. Chris lives in heaven now, along with our risen Christ and for that, I am grateful. God reaches in to my darkest moments and sends me grace over and over. A perfectly timed phone call the other day from my cousin Dennis turned tears of grief into tears of joy that God IS very good. Thank you Dennis, more than you can ever know...THANK YOU!! A perfectly timed sermon this morning did much the same. Our Lord loves us more than we can ever see and, with so much of my soul stripped down to nakedness in this state of grief, I can see Him more clearly than ever before. Grace in the midst of crushing pain is ours.

So, my first entry here from my new office. The sounds of Chris' voice, the presence of my memories of him intermingle with my thoughts and my new office. And together Emily, Eric and I face Holy Week, holding tightly to one another and ready to walk with Jesus to the cross and then to rejoice on Easter morning. Wesley was right, death in vain forbids Him rise. Thanks be to God.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Learning To Stay Open

"My mother was too busy raising a garden to join a garden club." That's the one line I remember from our pastor in Greensboro, NC, at West Market Street UMC. He was a very point blank man who cut to the heart of a passage with a tactless Southern style that left you staring directly at Jesus' words and wiggling in your pew a bit. Pastor Dickson said this about his mother when he talked about all the things we do to create things in our lives and how we struggle to fill voids, almost as if we don't trust God to meet us in them. I don't think my former pastor really had anything against garden clubs so much, just that it wasn't right for HIS mom...he said she stayed quietly in her garden listening.

I think I'm working through learning what is right for ME, for Emily and Eric and for the three of us together. We're re-doing the office, it's a tiny room, Eric's old bedroom but it's been our office for a couple of years since Emily moved downstairs and he tookover her old room upstairs. It's been a catchall for junk and furniture and has the energy to reflect it. I don't precisely know WHY we're doing it now, but it has something to do with creating sacred space and creating an environment where we can each honor Chris in one of the best ways possible, by studying and by stretching our minds and spirits and by picking up his micro-lending calling. And for me, also to write.

Sacred space is what we are after, so we're taking forever choosing even the first thing. And even though Chris drilled it in my head as an undergrad that you add BEFORE you drop, I got rid of the old desk we picked up for free from a neighbor when they moved and the new desk hasn't revealed itself to us yet. So the pc is on the office floor, papers are in laundry baskets and, for some reason, I'm totally content with that. The time simply hasn't come. This is a patience and a peacefulness I've not known so intimately before. I tend to be one that needs to start and finish things very quickly and not be content with mess and disarray. Then it dawned on me, we can't plow through and finish grieving either, I actually doubt that I, personally, ever will FINISH it. And I'm finding peaceful moments amidst the disarray of my life. Being content with a torn up office and my finances in laundry baskets is very un-Leigh like and yet I am. This a God thing...and once again our Lord teaches the bigger lessons by creating smaller examples that I can tangibly see and wrap my head and heart around. Disarray is okay sometimes...waiting and being patient and staying open to what is to be revealed, that's the calling here.

And so, I find myself having a cup of tea amidst pretty regular tears, amidst laundry baskets with bills in them and amidst a big empty space both in my heart and in my office floor. I think I shall buy some more tea tomorrow, this is a God's timing thing...and He will hold me and the kids through it all. That's a really good thing.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Meltdown

I've heard grief described as a roller coaster, ups and downs. I've heard it described as waves that come and go. I've decided for us, for now at least, it's like this infected boil that will slowly recede in time but for now has to be lanced every now and then.

We had a lancing last night...quite unintentionally, but pretty effective. I'll both spare you the details and protect the privacy of our family conversation but suffice it to say that everyone misses dad and we're learning that sometimes it's the family that just plain falls apart and sobs together that stays together. So we did!!! Like in SPADES!!!

Then morning came...we had swollen red eyes and headaches but it came and we felt better. We skipped school because we were exhausted but we felt better. In fact we felt LOTS better. I've little doubt that the boil is once again beginning to collect some pus and pain and it will have to be drained when it fills to capacity but for now it's a little more okay. That's apparently how this works. And the three of us got on the bed tonight and laughed and talked about television and it was nice...VERY nice. I then flipped back to the Psalms and Eugene Peterson's commentary on them (A Long Obedience In the Same Direction) and I just felt this really big God hug...no deep theological discourse...just a big old God hug that seemed to say, "remember I am with you in the wilderness."

So, onward to Palm Sunday...onward to Easter...there's a lot of pain between here and there but He really did rise up out of that tomb and He really does love us. And He really IS here in our wilderness. Thanks be to God.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh

Chili and God

It simmers in a pot on my stove...always has on Saturdays...except in the absolute heat of summer. But it's spring still, March Madness is on the television and that's ALMOST as good as college football Saturdays. I got up and made chili this morning. It's the first pot I've made since late January...when we were in the midst of NFL playoffs and right before we went back to Swedish with sepsis. Chili may just food to other people but to us...it's Saturday, it's sports and it's very US. Chris loved my chili, he would tell me EVERY Saturday it was the best batch I'd made yet, he would dip breadsticks or cornbread in it and go on and on and make me feel like I walked on water as a cook and that he was glad he married "a good Southern woman." The kids picked up on the theme and I think some weeks I made chili just to get the ego boost.

So it simmers on the stove, the morning after a teary night of watching Star Wars together and all agreeing we miss him more than ever and this just plain hurts. Grief lurks under the surface only to slam us at various moments. If we are lucky it slams only one of us at a time and the other two can hug and love and support but something about the movie and the pajama time together had it slam us all at once last night and we finally got up and went to Dairy Queen for the distraction.

And yet now morning has come...and I woke up and read the Book of Job and was stuck by this line: "My ears have heard of you but now my eyes have seen you." (Job 42:5) Grief is really powerful but the thirst for God is more powerful and even in heaven Chris is able to push me in my faith. I have SEEN God now, not just heard of Him. I thirst for closer and closer to God and God meets me in every single moment, even in the tears of our collective grief and the kids and I are very much looking forward to Easter Sunday.

And so I made chili this morning, the house is slowly being overtaken by the smell just like our hearts are slowly being even more consumed by the Presence of God. How raw and deep, how real and intense the feelings of grief and the sheer missing of Chris but even more so of that Presence. God is so much bigger than anything I have ever imagined.

Grace for your journey,
Leigh