"A head hung in despair cannot scan the horizon for God's provision." That is what I started my update with exactly a year before Rex died. He died on Aug. 10, 2007 and I sent an update on Aug. 10, 2006. I have been reading some of my old entries on the blog; out of curiosity, I wanted to see where we were a year before he died. I was a little shocked to see that my one and only entry in August 2006 was exactly one year before Rex died. As I re-read this update, I remember it being one of my most vivid updates. In this particular entry, I added Psalm 40. As I read this scripture again, it is just as comforting to me today as it was a year ago. I am glad that I have journaled and done these updates throughout these many months. It is something that I think is going to help me grieve and heal. It is going to help me remember.
Remembering is something that has become very important to me recently. When you think that no new memories will be made, remembering becomes crucial. With that, I am struggling with not being able to remember specific things. I don't want to get caught up in things that I can't change or add to, and I typically don't allow myself to have this unproductive thought pattern. I find myself trying to remember the last real conversation that Rex and I had; I want to remember the last kiss; I want to remember the last hug. I want to remember the last thing we did together as a family. I can't specifically remember them, and it bothers me. One thing I do remember is our last real prayer time together. I want to remember more. He slept so much those last few days; I spent a great deal of my time with Rachael and others that most of it is a blur. I don't know why the "last time" holds so much significance. I don't know what is typical or not typical through grief.
Right in line with that are the "one more time" thoughts. I wish I could just have one more conversation, one more kiss, one more hug, one more outing together, one more meal together. Just one more...
I have been thinking about how much I was going to reveal about my thoughts and struggles. I have shared them pretty openly in the past; the battle is over for Rex now, but I am still in this race. I don't want my struggles to turn into the devil's playing ground trying to keep me from living a victorious life. So, I actually thought that I would keep my thought struggles to myself. Then, as I started typing this email. I let it out anyway.
God is so faithful. Just as soon as I got done typing my struggle with remembering, a memory of that last week came flooding back into my mind. I remember the last time we went outside as a family. We went for a golf cart ride. The kids took their bikes with us; we went to the church next door and we rode around on the golf cart while the kids rode their bikes. We were trying to get Rex outside to get some Vitamin D. It was a happy time; the girls were so happy to be outside all together. Thank you, Lord, you are so gracious.
Rex was our creepy crawlie hero. I grew up playing with creepy crawlies; somewhere along the way, I developed an aversion to creepy crawlies. I don't like to see them nor do I want them in the house. In the past, whenever a creepy crawlie was discovered, especially if I saw it first, there would typically be a scream followed with a plea for Rex to save me. I have known that this is not productive for our girls because they are probably going to respond to creepy crawlies the same way I do. But, I still would find myself screaming and having fits. Rex took it in stride. It became a humorous thing as he would come to save the day. When the girls were around, he would make a big deal of it and proclaim that he was "Super daddy" and here he came to save the day. The girls loved it; then, he would take care of the creepy crawlie. He was our hero.
We had a creepy crawlie moment today and Rex wasn't here to save the day. A lizard was in the house; when I first saw it, I screamed in typical fashion as it startled me. Of course, the girls came running to see what was wrong. I was still screaming, "Lizard, lizard, there's a lizard in the house." Naturally, they started screaming and jumping up and down too. What were we going to do? Suddenly, I realized that Rex wasn't here. I had to just walk out of the room to get my composure. When I came back in, the girls had gone and gotten the brooms and had pushed the furniture all over the room trying to find that lizard so they could save us. They were running to and fro thinking that would help them, that maybe it would keep the lizard from getting them. I had to come back in and calmly explain that the lizard was not going to hurt us; it would be ok. That lizard is still in this house somewhere! Ugh!
Those of you that came to the receiving and funeral probably saw the pictures that we had of our family taken just a week before Rex died. We didn't plan this at all. God laid it on Sheri Allison's heart to come take some pictures of us in our home. She did an absolutely wonderful job. I will forever be grateful to her for doing this for us as it became the last time we were able to capture moments of Rex with us, especially moments including Rachael. You can look at these pictures on her website. http://www.sheriallison.com/ go to "Recent Sessions" and then "RexDonna." I think you will be delighted with them like we are. I've looked at them hundreds of times. Just to keep the confusion at a minimum, the last five pics have an extra in them -- my niece's little girl, Tori.
I would like to end this email with Psalm 40, the same scripture I put in my email exactly a year before Rex left us to spend eternity with Jesus.
Psalm 40 1 I waited patiently for the Lord; And He inclined to me, And heard my cry. 2 He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, Out of the miry clay, And set my feet upon a rock, And established my steps. 3 He has put a new song in my mouth-- Praise to our God; Many will see it and fear, And will trust in the Lord. 4 Blessed is that man who makes the Lord his trust, And does not respect the proud, nor such as turn aside to lies. 5 Many, O Lord my God, are Your wonderful works Which You have done; And Your thoughts toward us Cannot be recounted to You in order; If I would declare and speak of them, They are more than can be numbered. 6 Sacrifice and offering You did not desire; My ears You have opened. Burnt offering and sin offering You did not require. 7 Then I said, "Behold, I come; In the scroll of the book it is written of me. 8 I delight to do Your will, O my God, And Your law is within my heart." 9 I have proclaimed the good news of righteousness In the great assembly; Indeed, I do not restrain my lips, O Lord, You Yourself know. 10 I have not hidden Your righteousness within my heart; I have declared Your faithfulness and Your salvation; I have not concealed Your lovingkindness and Your truth From the great assembly. 11 Do not withhold Your tender mercies from me, O Lord; Let Your lovingkindness and Your truth continually preserve me. 12 For innumerable evils have surrounded me; My iniquities have overtaken me, so that I am not able to look up; They are more than the hairs of my head; Therefore my heart fails me. 13 Be pleased, O Lord, to deliver me; O Lord, make haste to help me! 14 Let them be ashamed and brought to mutual confusion Who seek to destroy my life; Let them be driven backward and brought to dishonor Who wish me evil. 15 Let them be confounded because of their shame, Who say to me, "Aha, aha!" 16 Let all those who seek You rejoice and be glad in You; Let such as love Your salvation say continually, "The Lord be magnified!" 17 But I am poor and needy; Yet the Lord thinks upon me. You are my help and my deliverer; Do not delay, O my God.
I hope that my life will always declare God's faithfulness, salvation, and lovingkindness as Rex' life did until the very end.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Psalm 29:11 says that, "The Lord will give strength to His people; the Lord will bless His people with peace." I have been given strength beyond understanding these last 19 months; I have been blessed with a peace that I can't explain.
I can't trace God's hand right now, but the peace I have lets me trust His heart.
God has given us much grace these last several months, but specifically this past month. Our family has endured some difficult days as we had the birth of our new daughter, Rachael, only to be followed with the physical death of Rex just two weeks later. It is my prayer that my children will be able to grieve the loss of their dad and still know that God is in control and loves them. It is my prayer that they will know that God has not forgotten or failed them; I want them to understand that God has a plan specifically for each of them through this and that it is a great plan.
We were able to get away for several days after the funeral and take a trip to the beach. My dad had had this trip planned for several months for himself. Had that trip not already been planned, I would have never thought to take a trip for us; even that was God's timing. I believe that it was the best thing we could have done; it helped our family with the transition. I don't know what the day after the funeral would have been like for us had we not gotten up to pack for a few days at the beach.
I have tried to be acutely aware of my childrens' needs these last two weeks, so that I can meet their needs in the best way possible. Erin has been my protector. She, being the oldest of my children, has taken it upon herself to try to meet my needs by helping me with things that Rex would have done. She tries to protect me emotionally from things that might trigger me missing Rex. I have to release her daily from trying to carry such a big responsibility. Amber is my reflector. She wants to reflect on everything that made our life a family. She is pulling out memories from all over the house and talking about each of those memories. She smells his clothes. She writes notes. She gets affirmation from remembering. Lindsey is my thinker. Surprisingly, she has talked the most of Rex. She asks lots of questions about her daddy. She is acutely aware of things that surprise me for a 4 year old. For instance, Lindsey threw her hands up one time and said "Great, now I can't get saved or baptized." She was remembering that her daddy had baptized both Erin and Amber; in Lindsey's mind, that meant that she couldn't participate because her daddy wasn't here to baptize her. She is thinking things through, processing what it means for daddy to be gone. Rachael is our therapy. There is no doubt in my mind that God allowed her life to offset the loss of life, not to replace Rex but to bring healing to our hearts, to bring each of us joy in the midst of sadness.
I have had a lot of time to reflect over these past several months myself. I know it's not productive to dwell on "what ifs" or "if onlys", but I suppose that sometimes it's normal to do so. I have only had a few of these; one of my big "if only" moments was me feeling like I had failed Rex as a caretaker by not recognizing how close to death he was and not taking him to the hospital sooner. I felt that I had done him an injustice by not getting him some medical care sooner. I know that God numbers our days; I believe that regardless of anything I could do or could have done as Rex' caretaker, when God says it's your time, it is your time and nothing can interfere with that. Still, I felt I had failed Rex by not getting him medical care that could have spared him some uncomfortable time and allowed him to feel a little better at the end. Our family dr. reminded me this past Monday that Rex died exactly how he wanted. He spent his last days at home with his family, but he didn't die in our home. I found great comfort in that truth.
I had actually thought about the likelihood of Rex' death over this past month, and I was concerned about him dying in our home. I didn't want him to die in our home. I didn't want my kids to always remember every time they were in our home that their daddy died in that chair or that bed in that room. My mom died in this home; even though I was an adult at the time and didn't live in this home then, it was a memory I carried with me for a long time every time I came to visit. It still bears strong thoughts for me when I think of her. Having that memory myself, I didn't want that for my young children knowing that we are probably going to be living here a long time. I fretted a little about how things were going to pan out because I also didn't want Rex to spend a great deal of his last days in a hospital. God had it all worked out; He took care of my concerns.
Another "if only" moment had to do with something that I wanted to carry with me should he die. I wanted to have his voice saved somewhere that I could hear anytime I wanted to remember him or feel close to him. I remember the last couple of months that he was alive thinking that I needed to save a voicemail from him on my cell phone so that I would have it. But, I thought there would be another time, so being the organized person that I like to be, I deleted them as I checked them. Last week, I was upset with myself because I realized that I had not saved any of his voicemails. Then, when we got home from the beach, Erin picked up Rex' cell phone because she wanted to look at the flix (15 sec. videos) that were on his phone. I didn't think anything of it; most all of them were taken by the kids of themselves. There was a new video that we had never seen. The last video was one that Rex had made; he had taken it on July 13th, and it was a message to me. All he says is, "Donna, I love you, I really do" and then he smiles. I lost it when I saw that. Rex knew me well, and he knew that I would want to carry that with me. He was thinking of me. I sent that video to my phone so I can carry it with me.
I think there is a difference between losing someone through an accident or sudden unforeseen event and losing someone through a long term or even short term illness. Illness gives loved ones a chance to say goodbye; illness gives you a chance to express your love to one another; illness gives you a chance to savor the day. Illness gives you a chance to realize what is important and change priorities where necessary. Illness gives you a chance to have no regrets. Illness makes losing someone a gradual loss instead of a sudden one.
We gradually lost Rex from October 2006 to July 2007. Even though he was diagnosed January 2006, we really didn't see a loss of life at all until October when he started experiencing pain. Then, as weeks went by his pain increasingly got worse, his physical health deteriorated more and more, he got weaker and weaker, and he became more and more symptomatic. Rex' last three months, truthfully, gave us a taste of what life was going to be like without him as the girls and I began to do some things without him. There were times we went to family gatherings that he didn't feel up to attending; there were times we went to church when he didn't feel well enough to go; there were times we played while he sat or slept. Because of this, I think it may take a little longer for the numbness to wear off or longer for the reality of the loss to sink in. For me, I have stayed very busy caring for a newborn and haven't had much time to sit let alone grieve. My thoughts are continuously on Rex all day long, but my grieving has barely begun. I find it very hard to have a conversation without talking about him. It seems like every topic of conversation sparks a memory of him.
Continue to pray for our family as you have been so faithful to do. I feel God's presence and protection around us each day.
I don't know what the future holds, but I do know who holds the future. I am looking to God to direct my path in the days ahead. Who holds your future?
Donna Meadows
I can't trace God's hand right now, but the peace I have lets me trust His heart.
God has given us much grace these last several months, but specifically this past month. Our family has endured some difficult days as we had the birth of our new daughter, Rachael, only to be followed with the physical death of Rex just two weeks later. It is my prayer that my children will be able to grieve the loss of their dad and still know that God is in control and loves them. It is my prayer that they will know that God has not forgotten or failed them; I want them to understand that God has a plan specifically for each of them through this and that it is a great plan.
We were able to get away for several days after the funeral and take a trip to the beach. My dad had had this trip planned for several months for himself. Had that trip not already been planned, I would have never thought to take a trip for us; even that was God's timing. I believe that it was the best thing we could have done; it helped our family with the transition. I don't know what the day after the funeral would have been like for us had we not gotten up to pack for a few days at the beach.
I have tried to be acutely aware of my childrens' needs these last two weeks, so that I can meet their needs in the best way possible. Erin has been my protector. She, being the oldest of my children, has taken it upon herself to try to meet my needs by helping me with things that Rex would have done. She tries to protect me emotionally from things that might trigger me missing Rex. I have to release her daily from trying to carry such a big responsibility. Amber is my reflector. She wants to reflect on everything that made our life a family. She is pulling out memories from all over the house and talking about each of those memories. She smells his clothes. She writes notes. She gets affirmation from remembering. Lindsey is my thinker. Surprisingly, she has talked the most of Rex. She asks lots of questions about her daddy. She is acutely aware of things that surprise me for a 4 year old. For instance, Lindsey threw her hands up one time and said "Great, now I can't get saved or baptized." She was remembering that her daddy had baptized both Erin and Amber; in Lindsey's mind, that meant that she couldn't participate because her daddy wasn't here to baptize her. She is thinking things through, processing what it means for daddy to be gone. Rachael is our therapy. There is no doubt in my mind that God allowed her life to offset the loss of life, not to replace Rex but to bring healing to our hearts, to bring each of us joy in the midst of sadness.
I have had a lot of time to reflect over these past several months myself. I know it's not productive to dwell on "what ifs" or "if onlys", but I suppose that sometimes it's normal to do so. I have only had a few of these; one of my big "if only" moments was me feeling like I had failed Rex as a caretaker by not recognizing how close to death he was and not taking him to the hospital sooner. I felt that I had done him an injustice by not getting him some medical care sooner. I know that God numbers our days; I believe that regardless of anything I could do or could have done as Rex' caretaker, when God says it's your time, it is your time and nothing can interfere with that. Still, I felt I had failed Rex by not getting him medical care that could have spared him some uncomfortable time and allowed him to feel a little better at the end. Our family dr. reminded me this past Monday that Rex died exactly how he wanted. He spent his last days at home with his family, but he didn't die in our home. I found great comfort in that truth.
I had actually thought about the likelihood of Rex' death over this past month, and I was concerned about him dying in our home. I didn't want him to die in our home. I didn't want my kids to always remember every time they were in our home that their daddy died in that chair or that bed in that room. My mom died in this home; even though I was an adult at the time and didn't live in this home then, it was a memory I carried with me for a long time every time I came to visit. It still bears strong thoughts for me when I think of her. Having that memory myself, I didn't want that for my young children knowing that we are probably going to be living here a long time. I fretted a little about how things were going to pan out because I also didn't want Rex to spend a great deal of his last days in a hospital. God had it all worked out; He took care of my concerns.
Another "if only" moment had to do with something that I wanted to carry with me should he die. I wanted to have his voice saved somewhere that I could hear anytime I wanted to remember him or feel close to him. I remember the last couple of months that he was alive thinking that I needed to save a voicemail from him on my cell phone so that I would have it. But, I thought there would be another time, so being the organized person that I like to be, I deleted them as I checked them. Last week, I was upset with myself because I realized that I had not saved any of his voicemails. Then, when we got home from the beach, Erin picked up Rex' cell phone because she wanted to look at the flix (15 sec. videos) that were on his phone. I didn't think anything of it; most all of them were taken by the kids of themselves. There was a new video that we had never seen. The last video was one that Rex had made; he had taken it on July 13th, and it was a message to me. All he says is, "Donna, I love you, I really do" and then he smiles. I lost it when I saw that. Rex knew me well, and he knew that I would want to carry that with me. He was thinking of me. I sent that video to my phone so I can carry it with me.
I think there is a difference between losing someone through an accident or sudden unforeseen event and losing someone through a long term or even short term illness. Illness gives loved ones a chance to say goodbye; illness gives you a chance to express your love to one another; illness gives you a chance to savor the day. Illness gives you a chance to realize what is important and change priorities where necessary. Illness gives you a chance to have no regrets. Illness makes losing someone a gradual loss instead of a sudden one.
We gradually lost Rex from October 2006 to July 2007. Even though he was diagnosed January 2006, we really didn't see a loss of life at all until October when he started experiencing pain. Then, as weeks went by his pain increasingly got worse, his physical health deteriorated more and more, he got weaker and weaker, and he became more and more symptomatic. Rex' last three months, truthfully, gave us a taste of what life was going to be like without him as the girls and I began to do some things without him. There were times we went to family gatherings that he didn't feel up to attending; there were times we went to church when he didn't feel well enough to go; there were times we played while he sat or slept. Because of this, I think it may take a little longer for the numbness to wear off or longer for the reality of the loss to sink in. For me, I have stayed very busy caring for a newborn and haven't had much time to sit let alone grieve. My thoughts are continuously on Rex all day long, but my grieving has barely begun. I find it very hard to have a conversation without talking about him. It seems like every topic of conversation sparks a memory of him.
Continue to pray for our family as you have been so faithful to do. I feel God's presence and protection around us each day.
I don't know what the future holds, but I do know who holds the future. I am looking to God to direct my path in the days ahead. Who holds your future?
Donna Meadows
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