Wannabe Runner

“Don’t try to be something you’re not!”  Good advice, right?  Well I am not a runner, but I am ignoring the wise advice and trying to be one anyway.  I know I won’t ever be an “official” runner (although I don’t know what the qualifications would be for me to be official) but I do have a goal of running a half marathon before 2011 is over, so for now I am pretending to be a runner, though it doesn’t take much to see through this charade.

My sister, Jen, is a runner.  She hasn’t always run consistently, but when she wants to be a runner it seems far easier for her to step into the role .    Right now she is training for a marathon, her second, this time to honor Anna and raise money for cancer research.  We are touched that she is running for Anna and to make a difference, and I admire her determination and hard work more than I can say!  (Keep that in mind if I say anything that sounds critical of her in the sentences to come!) 

Jen has a blog with her training progress – check it out and support her!  She offered to let me be a guest writer on her blog, if I would like, but there are major differences between her training and mine which I wasn’t sure I should put up for such close comparison.  As sisters, there is a lot we have in common, but we are quite different in many ways!  She subscribes to Runner's World; I subscribe to TV Guide.  Side by side, our blog post for a week would look something like this:

Monday

Jen:  “My goal was to run 12 miles today, but I was really tired from a busy weekend and I only made it 11.5.  I know I can do better next time!”

Me:  “My goal was to get out of bed and run today, but I was really tired from a busy weekend, so that didn’t happen.  I’m quite proud of myself for even thinking about running!”

Tuesday

Jen:  “It’s amazing how good I’ve felt running lately!  Even on my sluggish days, I’m making personal bests for time and distance!”

Me:  “It’s amazing that I ever thought I should try to be a runner!  Why did I tell everyone I wanted to run a half-marathon?  Now I have to keep training for it or I’ll look like a loser!”

Wednesday

Jen:  “Today was a scheduled short run (5 miles) so I decided to see how fast I could run it.  I thought I’d be able to sustain a 9 minute mile, but, WOW, my Garmin showed that I maintained an 8 minute mile pace!”

Me:  “What’s a Garmin?”

Thursday

Jen:  “Today was a scheduled off day, but I felt so good I got up at 4 a.m. anyhow and went for a quick 6 mile run!”

Me:  “I was hoping to run 3 miles today, but it started sprinkling after a half mile so I turned around and went back.  WooHoo!  1 mile done!!!  Half marathon, Here I Come!”

Friday

Jen:  “Today I ran 12 miles.  It was easier than I expected!  I maintained just under a 10 minute mile pace.”

Me:  “Great run today!  I had a steady 10 minute mile pace – for the first half mile!”

Saturday

Jen:  “Wow!  I thought I could run forever today!  Feeling great even after an intense week of training!”

Me:  “Wow!  Great week!  I ran three days, so today I took a well-deserved break from running!” 

You get the idea.  My goal is not to mock my sister (really!!!), but only to point out some of these differences between us when it comes to running!

But I have asked myself WHY she is so much better at this than I am.  (I’m sure it has nothing to do with our choice of magazine subscriptions!)  And I have concluded that I have some very legitimate excuses reasons why I don’t do as well as she does. 

1:  I think I’ve got a good 25-30 pounds on her.  It has to be easier to run when you don’t have as much weight to carry around! 

2:  Bugs.  She runs in Nevada, where she doesn’t need to swat flies and mosquitoes throughout her entire run.

3:  Humidity.  Again, much harder here in the Midwest when the air is so wet you can barely breathe.

4:  Animals.  Yeah, I know, there are animals in Nevada, but only things like rattlesnakes, coyotes, and mountain lions.  They are more scared of her than she is of them!  I’ve got to be on the lookout for the definitely-not-more-scared-of-me-than-I-am-of-them vicious and overprotective farm dogs.  Plus the raccoons, and the skunks, which even when I don’t see them I often smell them, and it’s not easy to run while holding my breath!

So I think that Jen needs to try this.  She should first put on a sauna suit, like this one,

then strap three ten pound weights to her body, and run while holding her breath and continuously and vigorously waving her hands around her face and head.  We’ll see what pace/distance she can do then!!! 

Jen might try to respond and come up with a few things that make running where she lives more difficult.  All I would say to that is “Excuses, excuses!!!!”

Connections

Who do you connect with?  I connect with different people for different reasons, which is true for everyone I am sure.  Last week I had the opportunity to connect with people in a really neat way.

Truth be told, though, I wish I would never have met them, and I’m sure they wish they had never met me!  For what brought us together was the common bond that each of us had outlived one (or more) of our children. 

Our family spent some time last week at Faith’s Lodge, in the NW woods of Wisconsin.  Faith’s parents created this amazing place in her memory.  In some ways a visit there is similar to other vacations, with opportunities to hike, canoe, sit around a campfire, see wildlife, sleep in, read, relax, etc. 

But what made this time more special for us were the opportunities to remember Anna.  We were able to paint a memorial rock for her, and place it among the other tribute rocks.  As a family, we painted a birdhouse and included her name and the dates she lived.  I decorated a journal that I can use as I think of her. 

Even more than the projects and the relaxation and the fun, it was those connections that were made that made the time most memorable.  Early on, the parents shared the stories of the lives their children lived.  It makes a difference to be able to introduce yourself to people who understand that in order to know you, they have to know the story of your child, because it is a HUGE part of who we are.  It is awful to have to share such a story, and wonderful to know that those hearing it “get it.” 

There is immense relief in being asked questions that many people feel they shouldn’t ask.  There is similar relief in feeling comfortable being the asker, because even though the questions are difficult to answer, additional healing comes with each opportunity to talk about each child and the circumstances that led us to a bereavement retreat. 

I do not want to minimize the support we have received from those who have not experienced the death of a child.  Far from it.  I am forever grateful for the many ways that people have reached out and showed they care in abundant ways.

There is just something – an amazing connection – that comes with this huge shared experience.  Not a surprise that there is, really, but still I am thankful for those I met and talked with at Faith’s Lodge, for understanding and being understood.

It’s not often that farewells are so difficult after so short a time, but it was far from easy to say goodbye to those we met.  It makes me wish that more people would really “get it,” but then again, I’m very thankful that they don’t.  I wish that no one would have need of such a bereavement retreat.

We do feel blessed and grateful for the connections we made!

A Picture speaks a thousand words…and lack of a photo leaves the story seemingly incomplete.

After Anna was diagnosed with cancer, I started taking a lot more pictures than was my norm.  Especially of Anna.  Deep inside, but always unspoken, lay the reason for doing this, the “just in case” photos are all I’d have someday, but covered with the rationalization that I could use these pictures to show Anna, when she was older and exceptionally healthy, all she had been through as a toddler.

So I’d snap away, and order my prints online, realizing when they’d arrive at our home that the number of photos of Anna was far greater than the number of photos of anyone or anything else.  It seemed like we had so many pictures of her!

At least it seemed that way until lately. 

I look at our photos of Anna regularly, though usually with a specific purpose, and only occasionally do I allow myself to deeply feel (i.e. fall apart) while studying these frozen moments of the past.  I’ve recently concluded that there are not enough pictures of Anna! 

Though many of her expressions were captured, though much of her attitude is obvious in many of these photographs, much is missing.  I have more in my memory than was ever captured on film, yet I long for the concrete evidence to be certain that those memories will never fade.  I mourn that the limited bits that have been captured will likely be all that her brother’s memories include.  I’m frustrated that anyone who has never met Anna but would like to know about her can never know her completely. 

I search the photos I have for just the right one for this project or that, and too often the one I am looking for doesn’t exist.  I know that sometimes this is because we were too busy enjoying her and treasuring every moment to be bothered with cameras, especially in her last months. 

So I treasure each photo we have.  I continually thank God for those who took photos of Anna and shared them with us.  What a treasured gift!!

Thought I'd share a sampling of those treasured Anna photos:

Finally, a quote I recently saw on the blog of a mom who recently lost a little boy.  The author is unknown.

The mention of my child’s name
May bring tears to my eyes,
But it never fails to bring
Music to my ears.
If you are really my friend,
Let me hear the beautiful music of his name.
It soothes my broken heart
And sings to my soul.

Puppy Love

A few weeks ago, our family gained an addition, a long-awaited addition, at least for some of us.  It’s all the fault of Santa Claus, really, who had heard the little boy pleas for a puppy and decided to give in, although he at least had the sense to realize that December was not the time to deliver.  Instead, a letter was found under the Christmas tree promising a puppy when the weather was decent.  I’m not sure if any of our spring weather could be referred to as “decent,” but a puppy made its way to our home anyway.  And even for those who are hesitant to become a dog owner, (ME!) it’s hard not to go “AAAWWWWWW” when you see a face like this:

Puppy love hit pretty hard and pretty quick.  The first few nights were heartbreaking as we’d shut the puppy, given the regal name “REX,” into the barn.  Between his whimpering and the tears from Luke who couldn’t bear to leave him out there all by himself, it was hard not to break down.  But this puppy will never see the inside of our house, so he had to get used to his new sleeping arrangements.  Luke wanted to spend every moment outside, evidenced by this photo:

The love between a dog and his boys!  Luke and Isaiah fought over who got to give him his treats and who would feed him.  They’d cheerfully run around the house with Rex right on their heels, and I couldn’t help but smile as I’d hear their giggles as they’d lie on the grass while Rex crawled on them and gave them puppy kisses.  So Very Sweet!

Fast forward a few weeks.  Puppy love phase is over.  I knew it wouldn’t last, but I hoped it might not disappear quite so quickly.  Let’s just say the boys need a little extra “convincing” to spend quality time outside with Rex.  Thankfully, though, Rex has been a good puppy.  We all have quickly developed an attachment, and hopefully he’ll be around for a while!

Remembering

This past weekend our family attended a memorial event hosted by Children’s Hospital.  It was a nice enough event – lovely music, touching poems, a dove release – 12 doves, one for each month of the year that we remember and miss the children we have “lost.”  There was a slide show with photos of the children being remembered that day…too many children, especially considering that this event was for the patients of just one hospital. 

Yes, a nice event, and I feel that the organizers did a fine job of putting it together.  But such events do little to take away even a tiny bit of grief.  There is no real comfort given, outside of the insistence that these children will not be forgotten.  True comfort for me can only come through Scripture, and naturally an event of this sort lacked a Biblical foundation. 

I didn’t expect it to be more than it was, really, (actually it was in several ways better than I expected) and afterward I contemplated why I wanted to be there in the first place, why I was willing to make the three hour car trip, each way, to take part in an event I didn’t expect to be overly helpful. I came to the conclusion that I am desperate for acknowledgements that Anna lived and that she was loved.  I look for reasons to take time to simply reflect on her life, to remember, to grieve. 

Yes, she is always on my mind and the grieving is continuous; Anna comes up in conversation often in our house, and on a regular basis with friends and family members.  But as time passes, more and more often we remember her and speak of her in the hurriedness of life going on.  It is natural, I suppose, that longer conversations and intense grieving sessions become more rare as time goes on, and even my private moments of giving into the grief are happening less often.  I think that is, for the most part, a good thing.  Yet, there can be great satisfaction (that isn’t quite the right word) in having Anna’s photo shown as part of a slide show of remembrance, of being able to speak and hear her name once again among people who understand, of having an opportunity to focus on Anna, to be reminded of all the ways our lives have been blessed through her, to remember, to know that though she is no longer on this earth that she is forever a part of our family, a very real part of us.  And so I am thankful that we had the chance to do that this past Saturday.

The slide show was the most emotional part of the day, but I was holding it together quite well, I thought.  Then Isaiah, who was sitting on my lap so he could see the photos, whispered sadly to me, “I know Anna is always in my heart, but I really miss seeing her.”  So much for holding it together!  But soon after that, in the midst of my emotional instability, Isaiah whispered, “Mom, could you please try not to breathe in my ear?”  At which point my struggle changed from trying not to cry too noticeably, to trying not to laugh out loud and disrupt the whole thing!  What would we do without kids?

We sang “I am Jesus’ Little Lamb” in church this past Sunday, as well as during the St. John chapel service last week.  I shouldn’t include myself in the “we” as I don’t know if I’ll be ever be able to make it through singing that song again.  We sang it at Anna’s funeral, and we chose the third verse as part of what will be on Anna’s gravestone.  I hope that I will always be able to picture Anna and hear her voice singing it as one of her favorite songs!  Even though I can’t sing it, I treasure its reminder that Anna is held safely in Jesus’ arms.

A Mother's Love

Happy Mother’s Day!

I’m feeling rather mixed-up today, and haven’t been quite able to pinpoint my emotions.  The first Mother’s Day without Anna.  Another first – difficult, yes, but not a whole lot more difficult than every other day.  Oh how I wish she had been here, smiling at the breakfast table with her brothers as I opened each of their cards and treasures.  But every meal I wish I were setting a place for her. 

I just feel unsettled, not as cheerful as I wish I would be, not as depressed as I think I could be, just a bit more numb today perhaps.

It was five years ago, on Mother’s Day, that we shared the news with our families that we were expecting a baby.  There wasn’t much doubt how I felt that day!  Some surprise, yes, as Isaiah was still a few months away from his first birthday, but so thankful for my two boys and excited that they would have, as it turned out, a sister later that year. 

Other than that, I cannot recall many specific memories of Mother’s Days past, but in the time that I have had children I really haven’t felt that the day is about me; it’s about THEM, and how blessed I have been to be granted by God the gift of my children. 

In the years before that, my growing up years and the years before I was a mom myself, I know I felt thankful on Mother’s Day for my mom and all she had done for me and my seven siblings.  Since becoming a mom myself, my appreciation for her has been multiplied.  I look back and now realize how she must have ached when her children were hurting, how proud she must have been at their accomplishments, how she probably worried when she thought something was going on in one of her children’s lives that she couldn’t quite figure out.  I imagine that she wondered how she would ever make it through something happening to one of her children, and I know she prayed that each of us would find happiness and most importantly continue in the faith we were raised in.  (And I know these things she still does, and now does for her grandchildren as well!) There were times when I would have said that my mom and I are very different from one another, but I realize more all the time how much we have in common, and how proud I am to be like her in many ways.   I thank God for blessing me with my Mom!!

However else I feel today, I am so very grateful to remember and appreciate my mom, and to consider with absolute joy and gratitude my calling as a mother.  I am the mom of three children, watching with incredible awe as Luke and Isaiah grow, and forever grateful that during the four years that Anna was on this earth that I was the one given the privilege of being her mom!!!

I do joyfully celebrate with those who are celebrating Mother’s Day for the first time or with a new baby, including the moms to these two:

My niece, "Baby Amelia" as Anna called her. 

 

and my brand new nephew, Baby David.

Happy Mother’s Day to my sisters and sisters-in-law, my mother-in-law, my grandmother, and all my friends and family who turn their heads at the call of “Mommy!” 

Easter Joys

During many events that occur annually, I think it is a natural tendency for people, and maybe especially moms, to think back through the years and contemplate how things have changed.  It's always bittersweet - feeling thankful for all the blessings of today, while missing some of what has been lost to the past. 

A few days ago we celebrated Easter - the most wonderful of holidays for all of the hope and promise for the future that it brings.  Being especially prone to freqent journeys down Memory Lane as of late, of course I began to recall Easters of the past, specifically beginning with 2007....

This was Anna's first Easter -- she was just about four months old.  I remember being excited about choosing a pretty little dress for her to wear.  Boys can be adorable, but picking a dress is so much more fun than deciding on a polo shirt or shirt and tie!  As always, I savored the opportunity to choose just the right treasures for each Easter basket, three baskets this year instead of two!

Here is Easter 2008:

 Unfortunately I cannot find a picture of the kids in their church clothes, and I cannot remember what dress Anna wore for her second Easter.  I'm sure I had fun choosing one though!  I love the pictures of all three kids together, although it's never easy to get a good one.

Easter 2009 was drastically different.  Anna was in the hospital just a few weeks after being diagnosed with cancer.  It had been a rough few weeks, but on Easter Anna was feeling quite well.  For the first time during her hospital stay, I changed her out of her hospital gowns so she could wear a pretty dress for Easter. 

And for at least part of the day, our family was all in one place so we captured a photo of the three kids together.

Easter 2010 was full of hope and promise.  We were at the very end of Anna's treatments and there was at that time no sign of cancer in her body.  For the first time she got to give her input as we picked out the perfect dress for this special day. 

We celebrated once again having our family all together - and at home!

That leads to Easter 2011.  Some things were the same as every other Easter.  We woke the boys very early so they could find their baskets before we headed to the sunrise church service.  We enjoyed Easter breakfast at church.  We had Easter dinner with family. 

But this year there was no choosing the perfect little Easter dress.  We were back to filling just two baskets.  And in order for us to have the feeling that we were all together on this holiday, we had to visit the cemetery.  On that beautiful April day, we stood by Anna's grave, looked toward the skies, and said, "Happy Easter, Anna!" 

The most imporant joys of Easter haven not changed, though.  If anything those joys have increased.  We are able to rejoice that Anna is dressed in the most beautiful dress of all while singing Alleluia at the feet of Jesus!  Our hearts overflow with the wonderful knowledge that we will be reunited with Anna and be able to sing the praises of him who has saved us, all together once again.  The grave had no hold on Jesus, and it has no hold on Anna.  So on Easter 2012 and all the Easters to come, we will naturally mourn that Anna is not with us, but we will rejoice even more in the resurrection!

And here are our joy-filled boys, looking way too grown up!!