CHRIS, ARE YOU HERE?

I woke up this morning and everything in my world was different. I was facing the daunting reality that two of my three kids are now teenagers. How did that happen?



I know time goes quickly, too quickly sometimes. It was just strange to realize I am facing the most difficult and critical years without Chris. It just seemed a little unfair. Don't get me wrong, I don't question God. I know He is much wiser than I, and that He will compensate in these kid's lives for what they are missing... but some days I think of what they are missing and I feel a little sad for them. I still have the ability to call my dad and talk, and get wise advice when I need it.

When I finally crawled out of bed this morning, I walked into the kitchen. Chris' leather jacket was on the back of the kitchen chair. I looked at it at least five times, picking it up and looking closer. Yes, it was Chris' jacket.

I hadn't seen it in years. It was an odd sight on an odd day. Our daughter is thirteen... he should be here to wish her happiness and joy in her teenage years. Although, I know he will watch over her still and strive to help her be on a path that will bring her happiness and joy.

I was crossing the street from my office to the parking lot and someone drove by that made me do a double take. Weird.

After work, I ran downstairs to get some garlic bread out of the freezer. Chris' nose spray was sitting on top of the freezer. He had terrible allergies and that nose spray was a standard... in jean pockets, jackets, the car, everywhere he went, there was the spray. It made me take a look around.

My oldest must be missing his dad. I think he starts to dig his few remaining things out when he is missing him.

But, for it to happen today.... on our little girl's birthday, just made me smile even more.

DEAR DECEASED HUSBAND...UH.. I NEED YOU TO FIX MY CAR

A year and a half after my husband passed we took a road trip to see friends and family in Texas. It is about a 20 hour drive. On our way home I stopped to get gas about three hours from home. My oldest was in a bad mood and I asked him to get out of the truck and get some air. He decided he needed something out of the back of the Jeep, so he opened the back lift door (I have no car lingo... whatever that back door that lifts up is called) and grabbed what he needed. I proceeded to chastise him that I didn't want him in the back - so he needed to close it. He grabbed a hold of the black tension rod type thingy and pulled on it to close the back. Instead of the door closing, he bent the black tension rod thingy! Now, I know this would be easier to envision if I was using proper terminology - but the point is the black rod, now that it was bent, was keeping the back door from closing! It was late on a Saturday night, I am far from civilization, there are no repair shops open or car dealerships (if they happened to even be anywhere close).

I stood there mad. Mad that my husband wasn't here to fix it because this would surely be no big deal. I examined the rod and how it was attached to the car. I needed a screwdriver (maybe). I went inside the gas station. Stood in line. When it was my turn I looked at the service attendant and explained I needed a screwdriver. The attendant stayed sitting on his little stool about four feet back behind the counter and informed me that he didn't sell screwdrivers. That is fine, perhaps you have one back there I could borrow? No. Could you tell me what is around here - is there someone I could call? I don't know. Listen, I am stranded - my son bent the bar on the back of my jeep and I can no longer close the door. I really need a screwdriver to see if I can get it off. He stared at me blankly. About this time a man had come in to pay for his gas and had heard my last comment. He had a screwdriver in his truck and offered that I could use it. I gratefully accepted.

With the screwdriver in hand I went to remove the bar from the truck. But - this was not a normal screw and my normal screwdriver was not going to do the job I quickly discovered. I stood there in ultimate frustration. Half praying that I would know what to do and half telling my husband to fix this for me. I just wanted to go home. As I stood there enveloped in my thoughts of pleading and frustration... SNAP. It fell off. I started laughing, quickly returned the screwdriver to its owner and got on the road.

I had a big smile on my face the whole way home. I could just envision my husband standing there saying "Just rip it off"... and when I didn't do it - he reached out and did it himself. That was EXACTLY how he would have fixed that problem. Miss you. Thank you!

FAITH NO MORE

Faith is the firm belief in something for which there is no proof.

In my religion through the years, I had been taught that this life is not the end. There is a life beyond this. In fact, I believe that my husband and I who were “sealed” in our religion, by so doing, are bound together not “until death do us part” but for the eternities. When he was dying I never considered that I would not see him again, I had faith that I would.

After my husband’s death I can remember laying in bed one morning… just processing everything that was happening. And I felt his arms around me. Holding me tight. Not as a memory, but as a real feeling in that moment. The immediate months after his death I came to find he was around a lot. Holding me up. Keeping me from falling off the edge. In those months, faith was no more. I had proof. I KNEW that this life was not the end – because I felt his presence so strongly, so real. I knew. I didn’t have to “believe” or have “faith” any more. I knew.