Thief, enemy, stalking and hunting from the shadows.
You took nearly everything from me.
A devastating wind?  Or more?
I know what I felt.
Death, I've seen you, and I'm not afraid anymore.
Death, I'll still fight you to remain with those I serve. You have no power over my feelings of love or duty. I WILL take those beyond my grave. I will remain until my duty is discharged.
Now be off, and let me remain with my memories of my blessed time with Nate. Take your dirty feelings of dread and let my heart feel the warmth of love again.

I haven't cried for you lately,
where have my tears gone?
Have I been enjoying life?
What would me from 7 years ago think?
You were ripped from me.
Alone you died, scared,
without your daddy.
I was left behind,
bleeding from a jagged
wound in my heart.
There are no sutures able to close it.
But apparently I can somehow ignore it for some time.
Nate, it's not like I want to cry all the time, but I want to always be aware of the good parts of me I got form your life.

Dreaming

If we shared a dream, Ani.
What would you say to me?  I need your voice to speak love.
What music would play during our dance?  I need your feelings to live in this world.
Would you tell me about sunsets again?  I need your eyes to see beauty.
Would you talk about love?  I need your heart to treat others truly.
Would you share your faith?  I need your strength to keep me from flying apart.
If we shared a dream, Ani, I would need help waking up, because I wouldn't want to leave.

People watching in the botanical gardens.

God blessed each person I see with grace, will, dreams, imagination, and love. 

All these people have vast minds and hearts. 

It occurs to me that even the numbers of stars in the galaxy pale to the number of thoughts and ideas passing me by. 

How many victories?

How many accomplishments?

How many losses and how much pain?

I realize that we all protect ourselves from the vast amounts of sorrow carried by our neighbors. 

Let's not add to that total of sadness by jumping on our differences. 

If you cannot help a person directly, then look upon them kindly, accept that they have value. 

Beauty abides within the love we have for each other. 

It's impossible to try to be empathetic to the sadness around us, we are finite.  Leave that to the one who has infinite compassion. Leave that to the one who supplies us anew each morning and moment with the love we need for each other. 

I am diminished, slouched over,

when my thoughts turn to Nate. 

My gaze lowers.

Looking at the ground, I can't see the sun. 

The clouds hide the sunset without Ani's words. 

Micah has lifted my feet from the pit. 

He's gotten me to peek at the stars. 

He presents me with an incredible future. 

But even he can't stop the storm clouds of the past from blowing in sometimes. 

World, listen.

World, LISTEN TO ME.
My daughter is ALIVE!
She lives, she breathes, she feels, SHE IS ALIVE!
Friends, LISTEN TO ME.
I don't know her cognitive ability, but this I know; She is NOT A BABY.
She feels, she thinks, SHE REMEMBERS.
God, LISTEN TO ME.
She has a place to fill, a JOB TO PERFORM.  Give her skills.
She affects those around her, she is affected herself by those around her.
She reacts warmly to her brother's kiss.
She can bring her own warmth to this cold world.
World, LISTEN TO ME.
Learn how to listen to my daughter.
She is NOT the wheelchair you see.  She has depths, thoughts, responses.
SHE IS WHO I KNOW HER TO BE.
Please, do yourself a favor and wait for her.

New voice

I was rubbing Ani's temples tonight, and I could tell that she enjoyed it, her eyes were half-lidded, she had a relaxed smile, but then...
She gave a little pain relief moan.  Just an "Unnh".  Then another, then another, and another.  Then she stopped and she tightened up a bit, so I stopped rubbing and she relaxed.  I've not heard her vocalize like that before.  It was awesome, and was so "normal" (whatever that means).

I remember

I remember, each of you my children, rocking you to sleep.
You were all different, in your twitching, your eyes closing, and the time it took.
I remember my first, Ani, how I would wait, and count, to make sure you were asleep,
before I placed you in bed.  I would then tiptoe out of your room.
Nate, I remember you deciding that we were done cuddling, and it was time for me to put you in bed.
Micah, I remember the contrast of the days' activities, and you winding down in your room.

All of you, I remember the feeling you gave me, confidence and trust in me, your father.
In my arms, you melted into my protection and warmth.
In my arms, you gave me a short time where the world was right and sublime.
No troubles with money, worry over politics or conflicts.
No second-guessing myself over parenting you.

For that short time,  your feedback was that I did something absolutely right.

To learn

To learn your secrets, the world would I give.
Your perspective; no one can share.
Opinions, poems, dreams, prayers, laments.
Shout them! Share them! Free your soul!
Reach toward the light, reach toward my hand.
The light in your eyes, so intriguing, so fleeting.
I give it all, freely, to hold your gaze.
What mistakes have I made? Do you keep count?
Will you forgive my ineptitudes when you say hello to me?

A truckload of "why?"

Why didn't I get you first?

Why were you blown away from me?

Were you dying while I tried to fix my leg?

Did you want to hear my voice?

Why couldn't I hold you at the end?

Were you frightened?

I couldn't help you, nobody could. 

I wish I would have thought to yell "I love you" one last time. 

I replay your situation a lot in my mind. 

Why was I spared and you taken away?

A day is too long to hold this pain, but Nate, I've had this for eight years. 

I'm drowning

KI feel like I'm drowning and have tried all the ways to swim, but nothing works. Then someone asks me if there's another way to swim. 

I have tried every way I know to help Micah's behavior. I've tried every form of consequence, but nothing really stick. I've asked how he's feeling so many different ways, I wonder if he feels like he's drowning too. 

I'm praying every which way from Sunday to give me guidance or give him guidance. 

I'm staying with him forever, and I have told him that many times. It's not possible for me to give up. 

Is this what it's like to be tortured?  Feeling like you're dying, but you don't?

I feel like I'm failing him in all I do. And if I'm asked for more ideas, then those will fail him too. Right now it feels like every mistake in my life, every bad word I said to a crazy driver is a failure leading to his downfall. 

I'm so sorry

A while ago, somebody told me "I'm so sorry for the pain you've been living with", relating to th tornado and losing Nate and Ani being hurt. 

I say the same to you readers. I'm sorry. Tell me of your pain so I can understand and pray for you. 

Forgive me,

Father, I made a mistake, will you forgive me?

Always, my son. 

Who is the father and son?  Micah and I?  Or God and me?

Both. But my response to Micah pales in comparison to my God's. 

Good end to an emotional day.

During Ani's nitetime ritual, I had to answer the phone. After about 5 minutes or so, Ani vocalized with something that i instantly interpreted as a "Come back to me". What joy at being spoken to by Ani! Later, we were talking about my Mom and I asked her if she remembered Grandma Prindle. She most certainly responded positively. All I did was talk with her tonight. Very little singing, and she was still happy.

My amazing girl.

What’s in it for me?

Is my faith based on what I get out of it?  Do I have faith because that’s the only way I can see Nate again?  Probably the only way I’ll dance with Ani again?  It shouldn’t be like that.  My faith should be based on a decision to follow, to commit myself.  However, I can’t shake the feeling that this is not how my decision was made.

 

I want to run, I want to sit still, I want to throw something, I want to scream, I want to cry, I want to remain silent and motionless.  This is my silent battle over Nate not being with me.  I held his train near me, just now, and listened to it whir.  Oh how easily I could close my eyes and transport myself back to a time without this pain.  It was almost unstoppable, the urge to call out to him and give him his train.  Easily, the images of our old house came to mind; where had the train stopped this time?  Under the couch?  Under the cabinet?  Then I open my eyes and put the train back on my desk, feeling lost and diminished.

What I'm afraid of.

On Tuesday nights, while we're at band, Lexie puts the kids to bed.
Ani is always awake, waiting for me to come say her nite-nite prayers. I've asked her many times different ways if she's waiting for me, and she has indicated yes.
What will happen when I leave this earth? Will she still wait at night for me to have that wonderful one-to-one time with her? Will she remember the thousands of times I've said "I love you"? Will she remember all the times I've told her that she didn't deserve what happened to her? That she didn't do anything wrong? Will she hear the songs that I always sing to her? Will she be able to feel the presence of the holy spirit with her?

Will she feel alone?

I'm not afraid of passing away from here, per se. I'm afraid of the effect my absence will cause. It absolutely kills me inside to imagine her feeling lonely, marginalized, alone.

Is it possible to cuddle enough, to say "I love you" enough, to sing enough, to kiss cheeks enough, that you never really leave when you die? God, keep Ani's faith strong that she knows that she's never alone while you're with her, and that it's only a matter of time until she sees me again.

The dark places

Ani, I just looked at the pictures of you in the ICU. You look so vacant, frail, vulnerable. How could I have let this happen to you? The sorrow returned, the feeling of fear and being lost. It's so hard to see the dance recital pictures and the ICU pictures at the same time on the computer screen. Now I have to break out of this and get you to bed.

Transfixed

Transfixed I lay, studying the shadows on my sleeping daughter's face.
What rarer beauty is there than that of your child.
The curve of her cheekbone, the slope of her chin.
A face, perfect in repose.
This, this is the beauty that matches the song my heart sings when I think of her.

Convicted

I was convicted today at church. I was watching two girls who were obviously best friends. I watch as they hung on each other's words. A smile on their faces as they listened to each other. Whispering in each other's ears, joy and laughter on each face as they heard a joke or observation. I marveled at the purity of the love they have for each other. 

My conviction stems from this:  When did I start treating my wife less as my best friend, and more as a "life partner"?  Why don't I have a smile, hanging on her words?  I'll never leave her, want always to be by her side. When did I stop whispering in her ear, looking for the joy on her face. 

God, thank you for convicting me this way on Valentine's Day.