This email has been developing for a few weeks. I have periodically written more, but haven't been able to send it. Before, it was easy for me to tell you about Rex and our family as a whole. Now, it is about me and our family. I have a much harder time telling you about me. I don't really like to be the center of attention. That is why I never mentioned my pregnancy in any of my updates. It brought attention to me, and I didn't want to do that.
I have struggled with whether to send more updates, especially when I am down. I don't want to send an email that brings pity. I don't mind compassion and love, but I don't ever want you to read an email from me and declare it to be "so pitiful."
I had my first dream about Rex a couple of weeks ago. I woke up with my heart pounding and in a state of panic. There was no logic to the dream, but the emotions were very real. In the last couple of months, if I left Rex, I would always make sure he had the phone nearby so he could call me if he needed me. As he got closer to death, I didn't want to leave him or go very far if I did leave. In my dream, I had left him at an amusement park (I told you it had no logic) and told him to call me if he needed me, but that I would be back soon. Well...as I was gone, I was away longer than I had anticipated, and I was surprised that he hadn't called me. So, I called his cell phone and it went straight to voicemail. I knew instantly that his battery was dead, and that was why he hadn't called. I immediately panicked as I tried to rush back to the amusement park to get him. When I got there, I had no clue where to look for him. I was running through the park looking for him everywhere, and I couldn't find him. I could sense that he was in a lot of pain and wanted very much to go home, but I couldn't find him. In my mind, I could see him sitting on a bench hunched over just waiting for me to come. My heart was racing; Rex needed me and I wasn't there. He needed me, and I couldn't find him. I couldn't help him because I couldn't find him. There was so much desperation in my heart as I ran and looked everywhere for him. I just kept saying to myself that, "He needed me and I wasn't there for him. I had failed him because when he needed me I wasn't there." I was so distraught when I woke up; my heart was pounding. I finally had to read to get my mind distracted so that I could calm down.
So often, when I think about Rex' last days, I do feel like I failed him. I couldn't help him. I couldn't take away his pain; I couldn't make him better. No matter how much research I did, no matter how much I read, no matter how much I tried to nourish his body, in the end it didn't help. I tried to take care of him, but it wasn't good enough. It's really difficult to let that feeling of failure go when you try so hard to make it all better. I knew throughout his illness that I didn't want to ever look back at this and say that I didn't give it my all for him. I never wanted to look back at Rex' illness and say that I didn't do everything possible in my power to eradicate this disease from his body. I know that life is ultimately in God's hands, however, I wanted to fulfill my responsibility to his health and well being.
We are coming up on The Promise (the visual portrayal of the life of Christ that our church does each year) again. The girls wanted to participate again. I wasn't opposed to it, but I did talk to the girls about the differences this year; I wanted them to realize that it would be harder this year because of the memories from last year. I wanted them to understand there would be unique emotions that they might experience as a result of daddy not being in it with us. They said that they knew there would be some sadness as we participated, but that they still wanted to be involved. So, we went to the auditions. They thoroughly enjoyed it as they remembered how much they enjoyed it last year. It was awkward for me. I was more like, "Let's get through this." That night as I got the kids in the bed, I felt lonelier than I have felt since Rex has been gone. I cried myself to sleep. I wish he were here. I miss him so much.
Rex and I were married for 12 years, but my most vivid memories right now are all from his sick days. I think that his sick days were so intense for us that it is hard for me to remember the times pre-sick. I expect this to last for a time, and then the good memories will come back to me more.
I remember when my mom was dying, she tried to prepare us for the grief. I specifically remember two things that she shared with me. One, was that, "For a while you will only remember me being sick, but there will come a day when you will remember the real me." And, she was right. The second thing she shared was about her own mother's death: "When my mother died, I wanted a new baby so desperately. I wanted new life to make the one I lost easier to bear." She actually shared these thoughts on more than occasion. After my mom died, I was pregnant (unplanned by us) with Amber within a month. I believe that my mother asked God to give me a child to help me through my loss of her. And, even now, God gave me new life to help with the loss of Rex through Rachael.
Evening times are the hardest around here. Rachael has her fussy time in the evenings, and it usually extends past the older girls' bedtimes. This is when I think the older girls' need my attention the most, and it is hard for me to give it to them as I am tending to Rachael. Rex almost always did bedtime with the girls; he would use this time to read to them, talk with them, disciple them, and pray with them. It was a really sweet, precious time for them with their daddy. Now, he is not here to do that. That's hard enough, but then, I haven't been able to fill that gap because I am taking care of Rachael. They really feel the loss of daddy the most at bedtime. They haven't complained about it, but I can see it in their eyes as they try adjust to our nights being different. I am really looking forward to Rachael getting past those early days of fussy nights. We are starting to get to that point. I have had a chance to actually give each of the girls some individual attention at bedtime the past few nights. Up until now, I was barely able to sit down and pray with them before they went to bed.
You may remember the family that I mentioned in June 2006 that Rex and I had met in Tulsa when we were at the Cancer Treatment Centers of America. Josh, Kristin, and their daughter Patience. Josh had a sarcoma cancer that had started in the muscles between his ribs. Anyway, we have periodically kept in touch with them over this past year. Josh passed away in April just one month shy of being 27. He left behind Kristin (25 years old) and two daughters, Patience and Grace. Grace was born weeks before Josh passed away. He, like Rex, held on to see their baby before his death. Thankfully, he was a believer, and I am sure that he and Rex have met again. When their 2nd daughter was born, he spent several weeks in the hospital during those last days; anytime someone would come in to care for Josh or visit, they would always ask about their little girl, and Josh would always respond, "Her name is Grace; God's grace is sufficient for thee." I don't think that I will ever forget Kristin telling me that. By this time, Josh' remaining lung was barely functioning (Josh had one of his lungs removed after diagnosis). Kristin said that no matter how much he struggled to breathe, he would always pipe up and say this about little Grace before Kristin could get a word in.
I remember when I found out that Josh had passed over into eternity. It was May 21st. I hadn't talked to them in a while, and suddenly I had this urgency to check on them one evening. It was too late to call, but I couldn't get them off of my mind. So, I thought I would see if I could find an obituary on Josh since I felt so strongly about checking on them. I typed his name, and a prayer list did come up in my search. It was a prayer list for the National Day of Prayer at a church in Michigan. It had their names and it mentioned Josh' death. Then, I went looking for the obituary in OH (where they lived), and I found it. The reason I remember the date I did this all so well is because as I read the obituary, I realized that May 21st was Josh' birthday. He would have been 27. I was troubled by his death. Just like us, they did everything possible and searched every avenue looking for something that would heal his body.
I didn't tell Rex right away. I had to ruminate the news myself; Josh' death discouraged me, and I knew that it would discourage Rex. When I finally told him, it did discourage him. We both were saddened because we were heading in the same direction. I told Rex about Josh the next evening; he didn't say anything about it until the next day. He told me that Josh' death had depressed and discouraged him; I understood. It had done the same thing for me. I think that was the turning point for us to decide for Rex to utilize his disability at work. Rex would have worked until the day he died otherwise. Working til the day he died wasn't going to do a thing for us; he was weak to the point that he had NOTHING left when he got home; we wanted to have some of Rex' energy spent with us. He started his medical leave days later.
It was about a week and a half before I actually talked to Kristin after finding out about Josh' death. Kristin talked about the grief of seeing his things. Part of her wanted to get them out of the house NOW, and part of her wanted to keep them forever. She told me this story about her first meltdown. She had gone to Michigan to stay with her mom after the funeral for a few weeks; when she finally returned back home, she was in her bathroom and Kristin saw Josh' toothbrush and she lost it. She sobbed; Josh was gone, and he wasn't coming back. I relayed this story to Rex after I got off of the phone with her along with all the other things that she talked about. He didn't say much.
I know that Rex tried his best to take care of me by making everything easier on me. Even in his last days, he was thinking of me. As days go by, I find new things or discover things that he did to protect me after his death. There were a lot of times that he didn't ask me to do things for him because he thought I had my hands full. For the last couple of years, he was notorious for calling me whenever we were apart for any length of time. If I went to the grocery store, he would call to check on me. If I went to my dad's house next door, he would call me while I was there. He always said it was because he missed me when we were apart. In the last few weeks he was alive, he always had the phone nearby if I was gone, but he never called me, not once. I remember checking my phone to make sure that I hadn't missed a call from him or that my phone was not dead because I was surprised that he hadn't called. Then, I would call him. I would tell him I was surprised that he hadn't called me; he never really said anything in response to that. I think he deliberately quit calling me to prepare me for the days that he couldn't call me.
When we were preparing to go to the hospital for Rachael's birth, I packed the things I needed for me and for the baby; I asked Rex what he would like to have and he named a few items, but there were some items he packed himself. Anyway, when we were at the hospital, I noticed that he didn't have his toothbrush in the bathroom at the hospital. I thought maybe he had forgotten to pack it. He stayed at the hospital almost the whole time that I was there; he only left for a few hours one time. I still didn't think anything about his toothbrush because I thought maybe he brushed his teeth in those few hours he was at home. When we got back home, I saw that his toothbrush wasn't there. I know it sounds unusual to be so concerned about his toothbrush. I don't have an answer as to why I noticed it when I had so many other things to think about. I asked him where his toothbrush was and he said that it was still packed. I thought that odd because I never saw it in the bathroom at the hospital. Then, I thought that maybe he had forgotten to brush his teeth with him feeling so weak. I let it go. Then, when I still didn't see his toothbrush a day or so later, I asked him where it was and he told me it was still in the backpack. You wouldn't think something so little as a toothbrush would have any significance.
The only reason I remember it was because I thought it was strange; Rex was very habitual with brushing his teeth. I never saw that toothbrush again. It never made it back into our bathroom. A week after Rex died, I went to clean out his backpack that was still packed from the hospital. There was no toothbrush in there. I remember thinking that Rex was mistaken about his toothbrush being there. Then, a month after his death, it hit me one day out of the blue: he had remembered my story about Josh and his toothbrush. He didn't want me to experience that, so he threw it away. I know without a doubt he did that. It wasn't odd; he was trying to spare me a grieving moment. I am amazed that a story I relayed to him two months before he died became important to him for my sake. Even I didn't remember it. Yet, he had the clarity of mind to care enough about me to remove something that could make me feel his loss. Do you not think that is love? I do.
It's times like these that I feel so selfish because I don't think that I would have ever been that thoughtful had the sickness been mine. He was so unselfish with me, so caring and thoughtful. It is times like these that remind me how much I miss him. We have indeed suffered a great loss. Rex is and will always be a hero to me.
It seems like every other day, I find out something else that needs to be taken care of that Rex usually took care of. Then, I usually have a feeling of defeat. Since his death, we have had to get the a/c worked on, the pump on the well replaced, a crack in the exhaust manifold of our van fixed, take one of our girls to the ER for stitches, get the registration and inspection on his truck, and kill 3 ugly BIG creepie crawlies (not the lizard, he is still on the loose somewhere). Then, there are the regular maintenance things that he did like replace the filters on the a/c, take the trash to the landfill, and maintain the outside grounds. It seems neverending.
A friend of mine gave each of us a journal so that we could write letters to Rex whenever we wished that we could share something with him. Then, we can ask Jesus to take those letters to Rex. The girls found a lot of comfort in that thought. It makes him seem not so distant. Lindsey recently turned five. A few days later, she brought her journal to me and asked me to write a letter to daddy for her. She dictated to me what she wanted to tell him. She told him about her birthday: what kind of cake she had, where she went. She told him that she missed him and loved him. Then, when I finished writing it, I told her to ask Jesus to take it to daddy. She ran off to a corner and got on her knees, and said, "God, will you take my letter to my daddy and tell him I love him." It was precious.
Lindsey regularly makes mention of daddy. "He is still part of our family, he is just not with us," or "Daddy didn't leave us because he wanted to; He wanted to stay here with us." Amber likes to talk about her memories of Rex. She relishes her memories of him. Erin doesn't really talk about it unless I ask; she has that tendency to keep things to herself. I have to capture moments with her alone to talk to her and bring her out. She is starting to enter the tumultous and delicate puberty days. I feel a need to be really fragile and caring with her right now.
Lindsey always wanted to know where her daddy was. "Where's daddy?" It was almost a daily question when he was working. She wanted to know, and even though, he was usually at work when she asked, she would still ask. This past Saturday, she had a moment where she forgot that he had died. She asked me where daddy was, and almost as soon as she said it, she realized that she had forgotten; she quietly said, "Oh, I forgot. Never mind." I don't think she knows that I heard her. I didn't say anything else to her. I didn't know what to say; it was obvious that she didn't want to talk about it so I let it go.
For the past few years, Erin would from time to time get up after going to sleep (but before Rex and I went to bed) and come into the den and stand there and say, "Uh Uh Uh Uh." She would stand there rubbing her face and say that over and over and never say anything else. We finally figured out that she was doing this while she was still asleep. So, when she would do that, I would look at her and watch a little while then gently tell her to go back to bed. She would immediately stop rubbing her face and go back to bed. Rex and I used to get so tickled when she would do that because she never said anything except "uh." Of course, she would never remember it the next morning. She did that again, but differently the other night. I heard her crying; I thought it was strange because I knew she was asleep already. Then, a few minutes later, she came to me, did the "uh" thing again, and managed to say that she was scared. I didn't realize she was still asleep at first because she actually said something besides "uh" plus I had heard her crying before that. As I tried to talk to her about why she was scared and why she was crying, she looked at my like I was crazy. I realized then that she was still asleep. I told her to get in my bed. She got in my bed right away. I asked her about it the next day, and she had no clue what I was talking about. I wonder what she was dreaming about that caused her to cry aloud.
I continue to be thankful that God is covering me and my girls with His grace and care. The biggest struggle that I have is the huge responsibility that I am carrying. I feel tremendous tension in my body every day. When I finally get a chance to sit down at night and sit for an hour or so to try to relax, I feel the tension when I go to get up again. Every muscle in my body aches as if I had done a major workout. The tension in my back is tremendous. I feel it every day. I have been trying to do things that will help relieve the tension and help me relax. It doesn't seem to last very long. I think the tension comes more from the burden that I carry than from the actual day to day activities. I hope that it gets easier with time.
There are several ways that you can pray for me/us. I need to get a better handle on my burdens and responsibilities as a single parent. The tension is really hard on me. I am going to be making some financial decisions in the next few months. Pray that my choices will be wise. I am also going to be praying about the girls' education. I am currently homeschooling a 5th grader, 3rd grader, and Kindergardener. With me being a single parent, I am not sure that this is the best choice since I don't have Rex to share the parenting load with anymore. Looking back to the last few weeks that Rex was alive, I remember him asking me to really consider putting the girls in school so that I could have a break. At the time, I thought that he was worried about the kids with me being so extended. I now know that he was worried about me. I can also remember back to the conversations and see that the way he talked about it was in a way that he knew he wasn't going to be here to help me. I know that I need a regular outlet away from my children. School would be a means for me to get that. If this is something that will get easier in the months ahead, I can wait and continue with the direction that we are in. While I am taking one day at a time, I am thinking ahead to what would be best long-term for my overall health and the health of our family. I do not want to make any major changes in our lives right now; I am praying about what God would have me to do to lead our family.
I want Christ as the center of our family; this is the only way to withstand the evil, sadness, and woes that this world has to offer. What are you building your family on? Sports? Education? Money? Job?
Matthew 7:24-25
24 "Therefore whoever hears these sayings of Mine, and does them, I will liken him to a wise man who built his house on the rock:
25 and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it did not fall, for it was founded on the rock.
The winds have blown and beaten on our house. Pray for us to be "founded on the rock."
