Finality

    

Two years ago today. 

I vividly remember taking these photos. I vividly remember the conversations that took place in the airport coffee shop just before snapping them. Mom and I held hands and cried. We had just come to the end of an incredible 12 days together. She had to leave, but neither of us wanted her to go. We vowed to remember that even if this was our last time to part ways, we would say, "see you later," because as members of God's kingdom, there are no permanent goodbyes. 

No finality. 

As I spend time here in my passport country, sorting through her clothes and belongings, there are times I forget the 'no finality' part. It just hurts. The wounds feel fresh. The grief is grueling. The photo reminder that it's just been 2 years since I was in her physical presence hit a little harder today. 

I pray that she never wondered, even for one second, whether I loved her. I pray she never questioned how much she meant to me. I pray that she never felt used, abused, or belittled by me. I pray there was never a day she felt afraid in my presence. I pray after her long life of feeling all of that regularly, that she felt a peace, a comfort, a 'home' with me. She said so, and I trust that it was genuine. 

Above all, there is great joy in knowing that she is now in the presence of pure love, pure truth, pure peace. There are moments when my longing for her feels so heavy I fear it will crush me, and it would if I did not give it to the Lord.  

Isaiah 53:4a "Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows..." 

Mom has joined that great cloud of witnesses (Hebrews 12:1), and though I don't see her with my eyes, she is still with me. (Half of my DNA is hers!) We will meet again in the new heaven and earth.

Revelation 21:4 "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, not pain anymore, for the former things have passed away." 

[This is true finality.] 

See you later, mom. I love you MOST.

Magnificent Maria and Lucky

 

Magnificent Maria

I have the privilege of taking a 6 week sabbatical over the holidays this year. Of that time, I chose to spend a couple weeks with the Lord in Thailand. A place where I don't speak the language, and I don't know anyone at all. It's perfect. 

I have been here 6 days now. Days full of prayer, rest in the Lord, exploration, and marveling at His incredible creation. I have been following along in my Advent devotionals, I've read 2 books (The Grieving Brain by Mary-Frances O'Conner, and The Wild Edge of Sorrow by Frances Weller), and I spent much of today looking at Jesus' ministry in the first 22 Chapters of Matthew...I will finish it tomorrow. 

Thus far, something I have noticed about myself is that I need time to settle into a place before I can manage to focus deeply on anything. Perhaps that is my personality, perhaps it is a flaw in the same. My purpose for this trip is to seek God and be released from the immensely strong grip of sorrow and grief. To lay it at His feet. I feel there is an expectation for me to be further along in the process. If I was just a stronger Christian, surely I would be making more "progress." The more I read about grief and loss, the more I realize how utterly ridiculous it is for people to expect that of me (or anyone else). 

I am also coming to a deep realization that I have put way too much weight on others' ideals and expectations of me. The only One whose expectations matter is Jesus and He calls me His masterpiece. He knows my heart, my struggle, my devotion to Him, my shortcomings--ALL of it, and He would never look at me with disappointed, patronizing eyes. He compassionately loves me just the way I am. 

My Lord is here, patiently waiting for me to lay it down. I am trying. Perhaps a bit too hard. I am almost...afraid? to let myself enter back into that deeply painful well of emotion, but I know that if I want to release it, I must first welcome its presence. It is part of me and will forever be. I just need to embrace the courage only God can grant me and let Him refine me through the pain. He will walk through it with me when I'm ready. I do feel an overwhelming peace that I know could only be from Him. He is patient. He is so, so good. 

One highlight of the week was meeting Maria, the magnificent creature in the photo above. I rode an elephant once at the zoo with my son when he was about 2, and I feel terrible about that now. These poor creatures are so mistreated and are not made to be ridden like that. I met Maria in an 'ethical sanctuary' where they rescue these amazing animals from abusive situations, like riding camps, the circus, zoos, and the like. I am happy they are in an ethical place, but still could feel their sadness--especially when we were walking with them in the jungle. They wanted to be free. The sanctuary staff made a sound that signaled them to "stay" or to go where they were told, and I could see the look in their eyes. They were reluctant to go back to being contained. 

Sadness. 

There were 4 elephants at this sanctuary. Maria was the biggest and had been there longest. There was Angie(56y/o) rescued 6 months ago, and Lucky(4y/o) rescued just 4 months ago. Lucky became an orphan when his mom died just 4 months ago (like me!). He liked to play and tumble, but the only elephant that likes him is Maria. The other 2 want nothing to do with him. So these two "strangers" have bonded. They look for each other and don't like being separated. They have found family in this sanctuary. I will be happy for the time they get to spend together, and pray that they are not ever mistreated again. 

 

Maria and Lucky in their happy place

On This Day 15 Years Ago

On This Day 15 years ago...

I knew I had made quite a detailed post about the things I was feeling the day I got that dreadful call about my Dad. So here I am today, just 127 days after the Lord took my Mom. 

I anticipated this anniversary date would be extra challenging, and it has definitely begun that way. I booked a 2-week sabbatical to deeply grieve my new status as an orphan. It doesn't matter how old you are when you become an orphan, if your parents are gone--you are an orphan and you feel it. God took Dad 2 weeks before Christmas, and he took Mom the day after my birthday. I won't pretend to understand His timing, but I do trust that it is perfect, and He is sovereign. 

Mom was there and helped me through the initial couple weeks, then a few years later she moved in with me for 11 years. Kory was by my side throughout the first year before he went off to college/marriage. 

This go around, I'm in a foreign country, alone. 

Perhaps soon, I will also be able to write about Mom...but for now, on this 15th anniversary of my first gut wrenching loss, I will just re-post my detailed description here. Those old wounds have opened up again. 

A Phone Call

Today is the 2nd (now 15th) anniversary of the day I received the most life changing news I'd ever received. One days before one of the most painful and worst days of my life. I'm at work and the phone rings....

Linda (crying): "Ang, I've got something to tell you, and it's not good news honey."

Me (mind racing): "What is it? Tell me!"

Linda: "It's your Dad honey...something happened..."

Me: "No! No it can't be...is he okay?"

Linda: "I'm afraid not honey, he's had a stroke...a bleed in his head and it's bad Ang, really bad. They don't think he can pull through."

Me: "I.....I.....don't know what to say. I'll be there as quickly as I can."

 A Frenzy

I'm immediately on the phone. I call the airlines and book a flight for me and Kory for noon that day. I tell my boss I'm going to have to go. I'm crying so hard I can't call Randy (my husband at the time) to come pick me up so my boss calls him for me.

A Trip

The next week is like a surreal dream. One I wish I could wake up from, but never did. Kory left school, I left work...we packed in a frenzy & were driven to the airport by a resentful man (because of the $ spent on the plane tickets) and we were on our way. A full day of flying. 6 hours of actual air time. It was so difficult to be 'social' with the happy people around me while my insides were screaming "Wipe the smile off your faces! Don't you understand?!?!" I ordered a glass of wine on the plane, hoping that it would calm my nerves just a bit. FAIL What can calm you at a time like this? When we arrived in Spokane, Mom picked us up from the airport (alone, thankfully...story for another day) and drove us straight to the ICU at Sacred Heart where Dad and the rest of the family was.

A Realization

I can not describe to this day the flood of emotions I felt when I saw him laying there in his hospital bed. Ventilator breathing for him. EKG leads hooked up to his chest. As an ICU nurse, this should have been at least a tiny bit manageable, right? WRONG. My knees buckled & Mom & Kory were there for me to grab for support. I thought, "Maybe if I walk over and touch his hand, he will respond somehow. There will surely be something left there.....surely" Once I composed myself and felt that my legs would actually hold me up to walk over to him...I went, slowly. I stood next to him and stared. I pulled up an eyelid to see if there was any hint of life in that beautiful blue eye. Nothing. It was as glazed over and empty as the hundreds I'd seen up until this point. I knew it was over for him. Had been over for him well before I arrived. They were gracious enough to keep the 'life support' going until I could be there to watch his few, remaining, involuntary system functions shut down. It didn't take but just a few minutes for me to start barking demands. "Turn it OFF!! Unplug it! He's gone, can't you see that? PLEASE! Get it off of him!" Immediately as they turned the ventilator off, my anger kicked in. The nurses didn't know what to do with me as I was ripping the monitor leads off his chest & fingers, pulling out the IVs. It was mere moments after they turned the machines off before I felt his heart stop beating. His body never tried to take another breath. He was really gone. My hero, my apostle Paul, my Dad was really gone.

A Fog

The next few days were a series of making arrangements for the funeral, his attire for the casket, who would ride with whom, what time to meet for this and that, the post funeral gathering where you 'make nice' with all the people who are there to pay condolences, blah blah blah. It was a fog. I walked through a faith shaking fog of despair and disbelief. I made attempts to socialize with my step sisters & step Mom (Linda), my Mom and her husband, my Nana...and anyone else who was present at the time, but I was in such a state I'm not sure I can describe or even understand myself the way I felt. Unsocial is an understatement. I did not want to talk to anyone about anything. I wanted Kory in the room with me, and nothing else. I tried to lean on Mom, and she tried (but was prevented by her ever so needy husband), to console me at one point after we left the hospital on that dreadful day. (It was then that I had to leave Mom and go stay at Nana's house until after the funeral because I was in no position to properly deal with this man.) Nana is a quiet woman, and she has been around the block, so she was very sensitive to me and my need to be silent. The way I was able to sleep was by drinking wine until I absolutely could not stay upright any longer, and even then the sleep was short lived. Yeah, there was a tear in my (beer) wine. Not the best way to deal with a crisis, but it's what I did.

A Gift 

For me, honestly, the best thing about the entire experience was the fact that I had an unbelieveably mature son by my side every second of the day who helped me hold myself together. I'm sure I would have made it through somehow, but he lightened my load so much just by being himself and simply being present. A true gift from God.

**Side note regarding this: Kory has not ever been one who can handle people being too touchy feely with him. He gives a quick hug, kiss on the cheek or forehead, but don't expect any cuddling or holding hands, etc. It's just not in his personality.

The entire trip, Kory was right next to me. It was almost as if he was trying to protect me from my feelings and the horror of the entire thing. He sat next to me with his hand on my shoulder. He let me hold on to him when I just couldn't take it anymore and I was breaking down. He didn't leave the room I was in except for bathroom breaks. He encouraged me to hang up the phone when my ex was hounding me about the cost of this trip. He was my sounding board. He let me sleep next to him on the queen sized hide-a-bed at Nana's house and he forfeited the double bed at Mom's house to sleep in the recliner next to Mom's couch, where I slept. He simply was my rock. He was just 17 years old, and he was my stronghold. He is so much like my Dad, that I guess I should have expected it, and many times I know I've taken him for granted, but he proved to me in this experience the stellar young man he was, and he continues to do so even today.

A Funeral

The day of the funeral (December 17th, 2008) was the day the snow began. Not just a little snow...a blizzard. While in Spokane, I was afforded the privelage of driving my Dad's Dodge Ram. I'm not a Dodge fan, but it was perfect for the task of maneuvering through the snow packed city. In the back window of Dad's truck in huge letters it said, "If you were tried in court today for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?" Yes, my apostle Paul. I need not go into the background of Phillip Eugene Queen to explain the fact that his existence on earth truly parallelled Paul's. At the funeral, we (my step sisters and myself) were given the opportunity to give a eulogy on Dad's behalf. My step-sister, Amy got up first and she read a passage from the Bible....the very same passage I had intended to read.

2 Timothy 2

1. I charge thee therefore before God, and the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall judge the quick and the dead at his appearing and his kingdom;

2. Preach the work; be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long suffering and doctrine. 

3. For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears; 

4. and they shall turn away their ears fro the truth and shall be turned into fables. 

5 But watch thou in all things, endure afflictions, do the work of an evangelist, make full proof of thy ministry.

6 For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. 

7 I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith:

8 Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing.

Amazing how two people who knew Dad in different ways would choose the exact same passage out of the Bible for his eulogy. It says much about the man he had grown to become. The man he was. The man I loved. My Dad.

A New Day 

After the funeral, Kory and I spent a couple days with Linda. We tried to console Larry (Dad's companion and devout Phil Queen fan, an African Grey Parrot.) Larry actually sat on my leg and puffed himself up to snooze...Linda said this was something Larry only did with Dad, and since that horrible day, he would not even do that with her. Larry sensed the connection. We helped shovel the snow that continued to fall throughout the next several days. We decided that he died exactly when he did just to get out of having to shovel. :) I know that Dad never would have actually done that, but it was a bit of much needed comic relief after a very grueling several days. Since the airports were closed due to the blizzard, we spent a couple days at Mom's after it was all over. We went sledding down the hill behind Mom's house, we went to 49 Degrees North and went skiing. We made the most out of the rest of the visit. Kory was literally waist deep in snow out in 9 mile where Mom lived at the time. It snowed ALOT! I love snow and had not seen any real snow for years (being stuck in Arkansas) so it was a blessing from God to give me something I truly loved to go along with the worst experience of my life.

A Thought

I know I'm not the only person to ever lose someone so close to me. I don't think there is really an 'appropriate' way to act or feel when it happens to you. I'm sure that things could have been done differently...(yes, it's me, the WAY over-analyzer) but we made it through. Yes, it's been 2 years now. I don't know when or if this pain will go away, but it is strong and steady still today. There's not a day that goes by in which I don't think about him. I will pick up my phone (in which his contact name & number remains...I can't delete it) sometimes and want to call and tell him something extraordinary, or pick his brain about a Biblical topic...I have to believe that somehow he still helps me out in whatever way a spirit can help us here...and I have to believe that he's in Christ's bosom, comforted.

I miss you every day Dad.

I know we'll see each other again on the other side!



Sleep Deprived....Again

November 2. Today I will be grateful for this blog. It's been here all these years, patiently waiting for me to come back to it. No rush, no pressure.  

The first day I ever posted here: March 12, 2010

What did I say? 

This: 

Sleep Deprived

So.....I worked last night from 7pm to 7am, then I went home, packed some stuff & drove to Spokane to visit Mom & Nanna. I have travelled that road SO many times in my youth...but I never appreciated the magnificence of it. It is truly amazing to see what God created with simply a word. I am so blessed to have the opportunity to explore the many wonders He placed here for all to see. How can anyone deny our powerful Creator?

Who could have imagined that in September of 2021, I would go to Spokane and visit my Nanna for the last time? 

Who could have imagined that on March 12, 2023 (12 years after that post), I would be living overseas & mom would travel here to visit me; The last time either of us would travel to be together this side of Heaven. 

Who could have imagined how much sadness one heart can hold. How deep that sorrow can burrow in. How much I could miss one tiny, precious woman. 

So, here I am. Sleep deprived again but for a whole different reason. And still proclaiming the glory and awe of our powerful Creator. 

Dearest Mom,

 

Dearest Mom, 

I sure do miss you. Guess where I went Friday...? Back to your favorite island. I didn't want to go without you, but God gave me the strength to push through it. He is such a good and faithful God. The way He changed several aspects of the trip made it less painful. We left from a different dock, arrived at a different spot, and took a totally different route back too. 

I did my best not to dwell on my sadness. Our friends there were sad too. They remember how strong you were. Whenever I see them, they talk about how strong you were to travel all the way here by yourself just to visit me. They were so tender with me. We talked about you fondly and remembered the short time they spent with you. They are going to be looking after me, mom.No one on earth could possibly do that as well as you, but they sure are going to try. The couple I stay with told me that since we have all lost our parents and since I'm older, I can be their mom now. 

You wouldn't believe it. They have a picture of me on their family wall! They greeted me at the ferry dock like my own little cheering squad. 

God is providing support to help hold me up mom. In the moments when I feel like I can't take one more step, the Comforter swoops in and carries me. It's still so, so hard to comprehend that I won't ever get to hold your hand, or hug you, or just look into your sweet face and tell you how much I love you again...

But I know the One who holds you is bringing you more joy and comfort than I ever could. 

He loves you most. 

I love you second most--Always. 

Your loving daughter, Ang