A Podcast Interview: Memories and Missing

Yesterday morning, I sat with a friend and visited about widowhood.

She asked real questions and I gave raw answers.  We barely even noticed the microphone in front of us.

Today, her podcast interview was released.

My first thought while listening is, "Goodness gracious, I do laugh a lot in this life!" and I am not one bit sad about that fact!

Tim would be tickled that I am still laughing my way through this messy life.

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/elizabethkaydyers-podcast/id1417204110?i=1000436964800&fbclid=IwAR19zGOQI3gvZ36Feettpa367VXZkp0vYETXWacmtTdgLfatJ-7qSkCHTcA

The Unplanned

I've come back to "our mountains".  

The beautiful landscape of Utah.  

This time, our daughter accompanies me for her first experience of the state her daddy and I so deeply love.  She has heard our stories, seen our photographs, and witnessed our huge smiles as we have spoken of our few short years spent here.  

This trip almost didn't happen.  We were supposed to be somewhere else.  Those plans fell through last minute after our bags were already packed.  In a split second, I decided we would leave the next morning for Park City, Utah.

I am NOT a spontaneous person.  Tim was!  I like order and planning and "knowing" what to expect.  Losing Tim taught me many things.  Some lessons I never wanted to learn and some that have been delightfully enlightening.  Spontaneity is one of the latter.  

I was NOT the road trip driver in our family.  Riding in vehicles makes me sleepy.  I am severely directionally challenged.  Yet, I drove the 18 hours here without getting lost. And with only one speeding ticket.  (Sometimes I enjoy the loud music a bit too much and my lead foot takes over.  😳)

We have hiked Olympic Park and The Canyons over the past two days.  We did the most incredible zip line over a gorgeous mountain valley yesterday.  We have appointments at the Spa and plans to lounge poolside today.  

This morning, I find myself waking up for some time with God on our private veranda while our girl stays snuggled in bed. 

I am reflecting on the memories from our early years of marriage spent here in these mountains.

I am smiling.

Genuinely smiling.

Losing the love of my life has shown me that I never had control of anything to begin with.  It has reminded me to LIVE fully in each moment.  To stop worrying about every detail of the future and to ENJOY the now within the shelter and confines of God's guard rails.

What a blessing it is to be here with our daughter.

I see so much of Tim's vibrant personality in our girl.  She has his free spirit.  She loves to explore nature.  She laughs easily and loves deeply.  She is an amazing mixture of tough and soft, just like her Daddy was.  I am grateful to have this time with her as she prepares to begin her high school years.  It is an unplanned blessing.  

I'm learning that sometimes the unplanned becomes the loveliest part of life.  

Lord, open my heart to the "unplanned".  I don't want to miss a blessing from You because I am too busy planning my life. Guide me with your wisdom and place balance within me.  A balance of both proper preparation and a love for spontaneous adventure.  I welcome what You have for our future and I trust You to work in us to bring glory to yourself. Thank You, Father for this time to return to "our mountains".  It is healing to my soul.  Amen

The Place Where Joy and Sorrow Co-Mingle

I sit in a lawn chair staring at the sky. 

Fireworks burst before my eyes, but my mind is flashing even brighter with memories of years gone by.

Our first 4^th of July, he propped the ladder against the side of his rent house and hopped up on the roof reaching down for my hand.  We lay there watching the sky explode in patriotic colors.

Fast forward five years to him holding our seven week old son while sitting on the rear compartment of our minivan in Plano, Texas to watch the fireworks.  I can see his ball cap on his head and Kolby with pacifier in mouth.  I remember what they wore.

Pops of color bring another flash of memory to us in lawn chairs in the bed of his truck lined with quilts as our one and two year old children stare in awe at the UCO spectacular show.

A splash of light floods the sky as years come tumbling through my mind.  Festivities with friends in our neighborhood, fun with new friends as time progresses, time with his oldest friend as both men have landed in Edmond.

The sound of a boom and tears slide down my cheeks as memories of the final 4^th of July crash into my mind.  I am rearranging hospital furniture to get his bed closer to a window so he can see the beauty of America’s celebration.  We had planned to sneak up on the hospital roof, but he was too weak so we improvised.  He is so grateful for my efforts to help him experience some portion of normalcy in this slow march toward death's door.

I find myself happy and yet sad.  Tears of gratitude flow unashamedly beside tears of sadness. 

And I realize that one week out from 18 months into this journey;

this is the place where joy and sorrow co-mingle.  

Here, in my memories. 

It is both beautiful and hard. 

It is all together lovely and crushing; uplifting and devastating.

To have known a love so fierce,

To have been cherished so completely,

To have experienced in our twenty years what friends say many don’t know in a lifetime;

It is a privilege and it is heartbreaking at the same time.

Tim~ Loving you forever, missing you always….Lori

       

My Personal Testimony Video

This blog and my writing were born out of deep suffering and great loss.

In this short video, I share my testimony for aNew Season Ministries and A Widow's Might.

Special thanks to Trish Scott with Sweetberry Photography, Allie Raney with Allison Taylor Photography for the professional family photos in Tim's final 
years.

Additional gratitude for Carmen with Seemallard Media, who so patiently guided me through my seemingly endless tears to capture this testimony.

Tears Like Rain

It’s raining.

I love the sound of rain.  I enjoy the coolness of the drops as I choose to stand under them (odd, I know, but enjoyable to me).

A light rain reminds me of teardrops.  It’s like God is washing things.

Rinsing them from me.  Cleansing me from the inside out.  I like it.

Rain brings about change.  The pansies perk up to receive its nourishment; brightly contrasting the dormancy around them.

Tears bring about change too.  They can highlight the reality of grief, but they can also cleanse us from the hardship of grief’s burden and highlight the beauty still lying within.  I have mentioned before that I am not much of a crier, or at least I wasn't up until the past few years. 

The tears flow a bit more freely now (still not as often as I would have expected).  Sometimes triggered by a sweet memory, sometimes triggered by fear and frustration; they are not limited by boundaries of appropriateness.  I have surprised myself with a cry in the middle of laughter. 

It is important that the kids and I give ourselves permission to cry.  

As Tim would say, “it is what it is”. 

It is just as equally important for us to remember that it isn't necessary to stay stuck in any phase of grief.  Psalm 30:5 [MSG] “The nights of crying your eyes out give way to days of laughter.”  There is, of course a promise of our eternity in heaven when there will be no more tears; but how do we make this applicable to our earthly lives as well?

I say, we let the tears flow freely when they come.  We embrace them and experience them fully; allowing them to wash away hurts, pains and phases of grief; enabling them to bring nourishment to our heavy souls. 

This is David singing out praises to God for transforming his mourning.  I love what he says in verses 11-12. 

“You did it: You changed wild lament into whirling dance;

You ripped off my black mourning band and decked me with wildflowers.

I’m about to burst with song; I can’t keep quiet about You God, my God,

I can’t thank you enough.”

Friends, we are going to be okay.  The kids and I; we are putting one foot in front of the other, and leaning hard into God as He directs our steps.  We aren't all decked out in our wildflowers just yet, but we are growing and evolving.  We are learning to have fresh excitement about our futures.  

We are allowing the tears, when they come, to highlight the beautiful, vibrant memories.  We can’t thank God enough for the work He is doing in our transformations.

Next week would have been Tim’s 46^th birthday.  Another “first” milestone to cross that will undoubtedly bring fresh tears.  God is already transitioning my heart into one full of joyful memories of birthdays past.  The nights of crying my eyes out are giving way to days of laughter.  It is such sweetness to me.

Tim's 35th Birthday

Tim's 40th at Great Wolf Lodge

(Please be in prayer with us for Tim’s parents next week.  I know my grief as a widow, but I will not even begin to pretend to understand a parent’s grief when their lost child’s birthday rolls around.)

Tim's 44th Surprise "Make-Up" Birthday

Tim's 45th Birthday

Until our turn comes to be in the presence of our Lord where He will wipe away every tear and demolish death once and for all, I pray He uses our tears for healing and nourishment like a soft spring rain.  May He continue creating new growth within us.  To God be the glory! 

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” Revelation 21:4 [ESV]

Rested, Refreshed, and Reset

Last week the kids and I joined my mother on a vacation.  We escaped the cold winter weather for a week in the sun, sand, and ocean.  It was a much needed week “off the grid”. 

While away, I quietly experienced the 2 year anniversary of Tim’s head and neck cancer diagnosis.  It was February 2012 when we received the call that his tonsil biopsy was cancerous.  So much can change in a few minutes on the telephone.  Instead of entering the battle over his 3 year old leukemia diagnosis, as we were anticipating, our lives took a completely new course; a journey unknown to us but known in perfect detail by our Savior.  

I pondered about these past two years on this anniversary day, but didn't mention it to the children.  There are so very many milestones for us to cross over; it seemed senseless to drill yet another date into their young minds.  It still hurt.  The memories are incredibly raw and my emotions are just right there under the surface of my resolve, ready to burst forth at the slightest opportunity.  Alone in the elevator, my mom caught glimpse of a tear and knew the dam was about to break.  I simply said, “Today is the anniversary of his diagnosis” and she knew the depth of my pain.  She and my father walked this road with Tim and me the entire journey.  They never once flinched at dropping everything in their own lives to fill in as parents to our children while we were in various hospitals for treatments over extended periods.  They are incredible individuals and we are blessed to have them as parents/grandparents. 

While I crossed through this anniversary and experienced intense sorrow, something quite amazing happened as well.  I found glimpses of pure joy in the horrible memories that flooded my mind.  JOY?  You might be puzzled by this declaration, which is understandable, so please let me explain.  I have run the gamut of emotions since Tim’s passing last month.  I have had deep depression, sorrow, anger, frustration, and fear; along with peace, understanding, calmness, gentleness, and laughter.  The pendulum of grief swings wide.  This past week, I experienced the joy that puts a smile on your face, a song in your heart and a bounce in your step.  

The main thought that God keeps putting in my mind is focused on Tim’s freedom.  

He is finally free of the mental stress from 26 years of dealing with cancer or the fear of its return.  He is completely free from the frustration of the many changes his earthly body endured throughout this 2 yearlong battle.  He is absolutely without the burden of pain that cancer brought him.  He doesn't have to worry about being brave anymore.  As much as I want Tim back right here by my side for years and years to come, simply knowing that he is in the presence of our Lord brings tears of joy to my eyes!  

I am so happy for him (and a wee bit jealous to be honest).  2 Corinthians 5:8 tells us that, for Christians, to die is to be “present with the Lord” or another translation reads “at home with the Lord”.  I love this!  As much as I treasure creating a comfortable, safe haven within the walls of our home for my family, God has created the BEST home for each of His children.  Tim is at home with his Lord.  {sigh}

 

My Tim was curious by nature.  He always wanted to know the full story.  He liked having all the details and facts.  He was an explorer, always eager to have fun, and full of intrigue and laughter.  I smile thinking about his elation in finally being able to see the whole picture.  The story of his time here on earth has been revealed to him.  He was often puzzled by how some people were allowed to beat cancer and others weren't.  Now, he has the ability to see the purpose behind his suffering and he is no doubt, discussing the ins and outs of the details with Jesus with a fresh, new perspective.  He has had his “aha” moment.  I can almost hear him whispering for me to “Hang on, babe” because heaven is better than we can dream of with our limited earthly minds.  I can see his brilliant smile and know he will be so excited to show me around when it is my turn to join him. 

I have mentioned before that life just keeps going, regardless of the stage of grief one is in.  I mean, I guess I could curl up in a ball and deny its existence for a while if I really wanted to, but eventually I would have to get up, go to work, pay the bills, buy the groceries, cook the meals, etc. again.  So I don’t really see a purpose in shutting down.  However, I believe my mother-in-law stated it best when I was visiting with her on the phone today about my recent vacation.  She said, “It must have been good to get away and reset.  You have been going a million miles an hour and needed something to just reset you, didn't you?”  She hit the nail on the head.  That’s exactly what this vacation did for me.  

It was time away from the constant managing of details, the dealing with death and its aftermath, the juggling of so many decisions.  It was a “reset” button that has allowed me to slow down my pace, breathe deeply again, refocus my attention, and re-prioritize my agenda.  It was needed more than I could have ever imagined.  

And now, I feel as though I can make clearer decisions and really drink in my satisfaction with my Lord.  Colossians 1:11, "May you be strengthened with all power, according to His glorious might, for all endurance and patience, with joy,"  

My deepest desire is to glorify His name.  After all, “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him.” (John Piper)

So I continue on this path trying to walk in obedience to my Savior and trusting Him with my future.  I am a long way still from liking the journey, but with my rested, refreshed, and reset mind I am continuing to move forward and am finding some moments of joy…much sooner than I anticipated, and welcomed just the same.

God is good all the time!