Back in the sadddle

I still know how to turn on my computer, I found the refrigerator for my lunchtime salad, and I remembered all the names of the Sending Center staff. Thus, it was a successful first day back in the saddle.

Seriously, this evening I read an article on grief my friend David Powlison had sent me. He discussed how sin often follows "curving in ourselves." The sadness of mourning can leave us vulnerable to selfish preoccupation if left unchecked. Sitting alone in the house is good for a season. But prolonged seclusion does tend to take me deep inside myself. So, it was good to be back at work, engaging the cause that consumed Nancy and me for 35 years: the expansion of the Kingdom.

Surely, I limped through the day. I hope to walk again soon. Pray that I walk in HIS footsteps.

A new week awaits

It's been a tough weekend. I spent lots of time alone since KJ was in NYC visiting friends. The house feels "booby trapped." Everything here makes me think of Nancy. It will take a while to figure out how to walk through this minefield of memories.

Meanwhile, I will head back into the office tomorrow. It's time. I will have to learn how to navigate work as I face ongoing reminders of our many years of working together under the WHM Banner. But I must walk into the minefields if I am going to move into the future.

Grandparenting Alone

The picture of Jonah on Hat Day at Playschool got me thinking.

Nancy was a great "Amma." She spent countless hours on the floor with her grand kids. Even after she got really sick, she would light up at the mention of "Lu-Lu" or Micah's impending arrival. Near the end, she grieved her inability to do things with the kids anymore.

Now, it would seem, I have to "pick up the grand parenting" thing for my departed buddy. As my friend Marc reminded me, it's important for me to get all the birthdays onto the calendar, handle the shopping, and keep in touch.

Years, ago I embraced the calling to pass the baton to a new generation. Being "Ampa" without "Amma" is one of the ways for that calling to unfold.

Closing the Red Notebook

This morning I awoke to a gloomy Friday forecast. The weather definitely caught the clouds of sadness that I have been carrying the past week or so. The word "aloneness" has emerged this week. So often I have felt alone.

It took about every ounce of will I had to open The Book to the Psalms. I forced myself to practice the act of reading HIS words aloud to confront the silence and pain. For the first time I noticed how often the world "alone" popped up in Psalm 62. But it was always positioned right next to a name: GOD. We find rest, salvation, refuge and rest in God ALONE. This reminded me that "aloneness" can not overwhelm us if we are conscious of HIS presence.

Imperfectly and incompletely, I experienced his comfort, his refuge, his presence. Then, from that thought, I was lifted away from "abandonment" to land in a place of mystical wonder where I could begin to recite all the ways that Nancy had enriched my life. It didn't take long to list 24 ways in which HE had worked in and through her.


Another word came to me to describe our journey together: "GIFT" Something planned for us, not designed by us. Something received, not earned. Something shaped by HIM, the Giver of every perfect gift. Yep, this whole journey has been a gift 34 years in its delivery. Our courtship, marriage, child raising, life overseas, return to Philly, the kids' growth, graduations, marriages, grandchildren...and finally cancer and Nancy's final healing. Today I even embraced the idea that widowhood and grieving were also gifts to be received with thanks. Of course, all of this stuff bears the scars and imperfections of life in a fractured universe. But they are just appetizers as we await the Great Wedding Feast anyway.

With these reflections I finished the red notebook entitled, "Nancy's Journey Home." 240 pages are now filled with the joys and sorrows of that excursion. I will put it aside for the weekend. Later I will reopen it and decide whether there is a tale to recount somewhere. Four weeks ago tomorrow, Dan and Nancy's Journey ended. So, it is right to complete the notebook today. The first chapter in mourning her passing concluded today. There will be more grief passages to write in the days ahead.

Does OUR journey continue? In a real sense, I celebrate the knowledge that Nancy has arrived at the finish line. She finished that journey well. And yet our journey continues. I will continue this pilgrimage shaped by the lessons we learned together. Those memories remain. I intend to celebrate them.

Where's my alarm clock?

Earlier this month, I stopped by to see Nancy's oncologist to thank her, leave her a note, and to claim some more "closure." We greeted one another with surprising warmth, including an unprofessional hug. She told me that after she had picked a residency in oncology she lost her mother to cancer. So, we shared more than I had realized.

"Just keep getting out of bed everyday," she encouraged me. Her compassion touched me. But I didn't think that getting out of bed was going to be an issue for me. I was still working off a "transition list" and there was still a lot of incentive to keep going.

Well, that was then. The current "pain phase" could create the kind of paralysis Melanie foresaw. The idea of staying upstairs with the blinds down has crossed my mind a couple of times this week. I am not sure the universe would crash if I stayed in bed for most of a day, BUT going fetal for a month or so does not really seem like a real way to push through this part of the process.

What is going on? Well, I am very aware that I have completed a grueling phase of life. That I am spent. But there is more. There is pointlessness. I have talked about it before, but I do sense a real void. It is not all bad. There is joy and relief in being able to accurately announce "mission accomplished." We have cared for Nancy well and she is now safe at home.

Now I am just not sure what can justify getting back on the race track again. Yep, I am a church kid, and I know that I was serving God as I cared for my dear wife. He is still around, calling me to serve HIM. But, He hasn't really given me any new marching orders yet. So, there is nothing to move past the sense of loss that fills me each time I return from walking the dog. And I run to aimless, worthless regions of the universe to dull the pain.

So, what is the calling to one who grieves? Getting out of bed is probably good. It is time to return to work. To try to fill each day with Kingdom Labor is the call of His servants. But there is more. To wait, to mourn, to listen, to read the Psalms and expect that He will slowly, gently lead me toward the next phase of the journey.

Last year at this time, Nancy and I were asking HIM to show us what was next with Leah in Fulton, and KJ nearing graduation. HE took us down an unexpected path that we could not avoid. I am sure that the next phase of the mission will be equally surprising, equally unavoidable, equally of HIM.

It's not all about Dan

Last night when I was chatting with Leah about the challenges of managing her two four year olds, I was reminded that I am not the only person deeply impacted by Nancy's homegoing. Talking to me about raising a blended family was not the same for Leah as talking to Mom. As KJ sets up her study and contemplates producing a line of handbags for Elcye's she misses getting Nancy's creative output. And I think it is bittersweet for Josh and Anne to be nurturing baby Micah.

In many ways Nancy's gentle presence was the hub of our family. Pray for us "spokes" to keep rolling forward!

A New Phase

Okay, things changed this past week. And it was to be expected. The frantic activity of the days surrounding Nancy's death are behind me now. The first deflation and numbness are receding. My first thought is no longer, "I am exhausted." Now, I find myself thinking, "This hurts."

During Nancy's last weeks I rarely felt anything physically. I was gliding. Now a tightness in my neck and shoulders frequently captures my attention. Even releasing my sorrow brings pain, a sort of physical spasm.

My summer blog entries served to drain off some of the tension of living on a roller coaster. It was helpful to share the stress of the crisis with you as it unfolded. In contrast, much of the past week's writing has triggered pain. To record these memories I am revisiting some hard moments. I am picking at scabs. Even blogging doesn't bring the same relief as before.

So, why not "put down the pen and walk away?" First of all, I know that I must capture these memories while they are still vivid. I also recall my friend Ed's encouragement the night of the viewing: "Keep writing. Keep letting us know how to pray." But what to ask HIM for? I don't think my biggest need is for the immediate elimination of the pain I feel. This pain resembles the sensation you feel when the blood starts returning to a leg that has fallen asleep. I need to experience this discomfort in order to walk again some day. Ask, instead, that I will not try to dull the pain with artificial cures, to foolishly soothe myself. I need to learn how to take this pain to our Wise Family Physician, the One whose scar heals all wounds. At the same time, I need his protection to avoid twisting this whole exercise into an emotional martyrdom. He alone can tell me when it's time to close the journal and go for a walk, watch a Phillies game or consort with live humans. Ask HIM for HIS wisdom, protection and guidance as we navigate this phase. So, far HE has kept us safe through the some pretty deep waters.

miles and rivers and pages

Okay, I came back from the shore yesterday afternoon. Since none of the kids were able to join me we decided that it was probably best for me to limit the period of solitary confinement to about four days. Being alone with me is pretty intense, even for me. Another reason many people truly admired Nancy.

I covered a lot of miles up and down the boardwalks and streets of Ocean City this week. We'd always walked but that ended as the cancer began. During her illness I couldn't tear myself away to walk alone very often. So, it felt good to begin this next leg of the journey with some long strolls, even though her shadow fell on every step I took.

Yep, there were rivers of tears. For the first time this summer, I gave vent to my grief without inhibition or interruption. So, the dam burst more than once as I sat alone, or heard the Village People belt out YMCA and remembered the crazy fun times we danced together over the last few years.

I added 45 some pages of notes inside the red notebook I began as this journey commenced in December. Details I wanted to capture before I forget. Lessons I think we learned. Questions I still have. Feelings I needed to express. As many of you know, I live to tell, to persuade, to communicate. If mourning is the active work of coming to terms with your grief, I need to communicate if I am to mourn.

But there is more, I want to tell the full story of our journey. The journey was provoked by the unexpected disease. But it is also the tale of how in facing the Unwelcome Visitor we traveled deeper in marriage, bridged some relational gaps among folks we hold dear and completed Nancy's healing as she finished her race. I am not sure where and when and how much of this story is to be shared publicly. We'll see. If nothing else, I want to add some more pages to the family archives.

Currently, I want to finish writing out my initial notes in long hand over the next week or so. Then I will log them on to my laptop. After that, who knows? Just ask HIM to make the path clear.

Finally, I have one more week left in the generous bereavement leave WHM granted me. Pray for me to complete the initial casting of the tale, sort out some of the transition details to make life work, and prepare to move toward the "new normal" I will find in returning to work.

Shorecast

Yesterday I submitted the last FSA claim form, dealt with most of the financial issues and sorted through most of the clothing, and moved the furniture around. Of course some things remain untidy, but we are pretty much through of taking care of Nancy and her homegoing. It sad and scary to admit that.

I need to stop opening drawers and remembering. This is a perfect moment to "blow the whistle, and get out of the pool." So, I am headed to the Jersey shore a week.

For a week, I want to rest. This has been a grueling year and I just want to lay around, or wonder aimlessly down the beach.


For a week, I want to reflect. I never followed Jesus before I met Nancy. Then I asked her to marry me on my 21st birthday. How do I follow Jesus as just "Dan," and not half of "Dan&Nancy?" I might want to think about it.

For a week, I want to write. The story of danandnancysjourney was only partly told here. It may be worth recording more of the story while it still feels so fresh to me.

Yes, I am going alone. Yes, that might be weird. Yes, I will come home early if I start calling volleyballs by their brand names. Yes, I may post while I am there.

Yes, Yes, and Yes I want you to pray for this time. Nancy's last post included the desire for God to meet her. He did in a wise and unique and complete. Pray that my Father meets me as I ponder how to continue the journey.

Being There

Thursday night I went over to Keystone House for a grief support group. While I wasn't sure what the night would bring, it was definitely a place to continue verbal processing. It also seemed like a good idea for me to let KJ have the house to herself for a change.

I expected to be outnumbered at this group because women more often survive their spouses. But I hadn't expected to be the only guy in the room. So, going to these groups may turn out to be a weird and wonderful aspect of the current journey. Anyway, being the only guy in a room full of grieving widows meant I needed to dial it back a bit. Then, as I listened to the introductions, I quickly learned that everyone else was further along this path. So, this was an opportunity to learn about some of the pitfalls that lay ahead.

I heard a lot about the pain of being forgotten, left alone. People not calling. Family not staying. One of the ladies wondered if people thought that we were contagious.

"What was worse," I asked, "People saying awkward things, or just avoiding you? "Avoiding us,"came the reply. Yep, that sounds right to me.

Since then, I have noted some of the folks who reached across the strange gulf created by Nancy's departure.

• The delightful couple who drove up to our house in their new Accord on Friday to take KJ and me out for Thai food and entertain us with stories of living in Africa, Florida, Nebraska and India.
• The four men who showed up Saturday morning to dismantle, move and reassemble KJ's commercial sewing machine in our attic so that she can have a true studio.
• The cadre of family and friends who assembled on Hewitt Road last night to share good food, stories of visits to Oxford, Westminster Abbey and CS Lewis's private home, and compare notes of military history and board gaming.
• A dear friend who sat and quietly talked about writing, about the remarkable journey we have had, and where the path will take us tomorrow.

So, I have been glad that people keep coming my way. Sometimes uncertainly, or at awkward times, but it is still good that folks come. Besides, my cell phone has caller ID and I am comfortable letting it ring when I want silence. In such unrelenting pursuit of one another we reflect the unrelenting love of the One who never leaves alone.

What am I wating for?

This morning as I sat in our rental property awaiting a water company guy, I started thinking how much this activity has defined the past year. Then these words came to me:

Life Interrupted by Waiting/Life Anticipated in Waiting

Waiting for the appointment
Waiting for the biopsy
Waiting for the surgery
Waiting for the surgeon
Waiting for the pathology

Waiting for chemo
Waiting for a vein for chemo
Waiting for the good week between chemo
Waiting for chemo to end

Waiting for her to feel better
Waiting for answers to a sudden pain
Waiting for school to end
Waiting for a miracle

Waiting for strength to return
Waiting for the July 4 parade
Waiting for a slower heartbeat
Waiting for her to sleep
Waiting for another miracle?

Waiting for the ambulance to hospice
Waiting for her birthday
Waiting for Micah
Waiting for her to meet Micah
Waiting for her to meet Jesus

Waiting for the relatives
Waiting for the funeral
Waiting for the funeral to end
Waiting for peaceful silence
Waiting for the silence to end
Waiting for grieving
Waiting for grieving to end

Waiting for all things to be made new
Waiting for our reunion
Waiting for HIS return

Waiting now for Promised things
Waiting now for Better things
Waiting now for Eternal things
Waiting now for waiting to end

Lend me your ear

On our first date, Nancy and I went to see the movie Sleuth. We tried to get into the Newman and Redford reunion movie The Sting, but the lines were too long. Afterward we went to Vista Village for hamburgers and cokes. You know what I most remember about that first encounter? The way she looked at me with those deep blue eyes and listened carefully as I talked. I liked to talk, she liked to listen. That night a partnership begun that would continue for the next 34 years.

I was a verbal processor and she was willing to "let me process." As late as July I would still run things by her, going over the potential prospects for Sept A&O, speculating about the kids, the Philles or the weather. Nancy patiently let me patter on, only occasionally questioning my most outrageous speculations, and I like to think my words filled in her tendency to go silent sometimes.

One of the real challenges in losing Nancy is to find ways to "process" the grief without my lifelong sounding board, the very one who so faithfully helped me work out thorny issues by lending me her ear. Yesterday as I pondered this loss, I remembered the One who is always there to listen, the One referred to in Hebrews as "one who is able to sympathize with us." Maybe HE is there, ready to listen, ready to understand, ready to help me process. Maybe she just mirrored HIM for me all those years. What a gift.

Finally, the suspicious mole that brought me to the doctor today was okay. However, she found something else on my back to biopsy. She is not too concerned, but do pray. Biopsies are a little tough to endure just now.

reclaiming one of our pastimes

I had been promising to take KJ to a baseball game for weeks. Last night we finally pulled it off. She had never been our biggest sports fan. But the summer had changed things. She had watched many Phillies games with us since coming home from college, joining me as we sat with Nancy. Nancy kept engaged with something outside the house until finally her interest ebbed at the beginning of August. By then KJ was hooked, even selecting Carlos Ruiz as her favorite player.

So, we finally pulled off the trip to Citizens Bank Park. Each of us selected a piece of "Phillies wear." KJ donned the Phanatic t-shirt she and Leah purchased for Mom in June. I pulled on the cap Nancy got at the ballpark as part of the "birthday package" I had arranged for her last August 24. Wordlessly we decided that was the way we made sure she came with us. The warm late summer air felt good after so many hours inside this year. I exchanged banter with other geeky fans nearby while being impressed with the way KJ followed the action. The game was exciting although the good guys lost 10-8.

Clearly we came home with "mission accomplished."We had fun, soldiering through the waves of sadness. But we were both determined not to let the cold shadow of Nancy's departure ruin one of the pleasures that has knit this family together for 4 generations now. In short we had "grieved well."

Meanwhile, I am trying to catch up on neglected health issues again. It feels weird to check on matters of concern without Nancy alongside me to pray and hear my worries. So will you pray for a visit I have tomorrow (9/11) at 2:30pm?

trying to come up for air

Some of you know about my rafting adventure in Uganda a few years ago. There was that half minute or so where I really did think I was going to drown. I remember desperately waiting for my head to clear the water so that I could breath freely again.

Today feels like that. I don't feel like I am drowning, but it is a bit hard to function easily , and I would love to find my head above water soon. Still trying to plow through the backlog of administrative details. Today was about submitting forms for our Flexible Spending Account, appealing an oddly disputed claim for one of Nancy's last medical tests, going through back mail and bills. My stiffening neck is letting me know it is time to come up for air on this stuff.

We also began to reset things in the house for the next leg of the journey. Josh and Karen worked to create a studio in the attic for her to use. We rearranged furniture in the living room. Baby steps, more will come in due time.

Cindy's words recently brought us much comfort. We know that Nancy has entered into her rest. But it was good to be reminded that part of her joy was the love she felt from us during her last days on earth. So many of you contributed to loving her during the hardest days. Almost every card or gift brought the exclamation "how sweet" from her. It is good to think that she still basks in the glow of that love, even as she stands in the light of HIS presence.

Meanwhile, ask HIM to help us "keep our heads up."

The Next Leg of the Journey

So, KJ and I woke up Sunday morning with nobody else in the house but us. The Demars family had left on Saturday in the midst of tropical storm Hannah. That fit the mood. The end of all this public grieving brings us toward a more private period of sorrow. And a change in the nature of the journey.

This blog perhaps should not have been called danandnancysjourney. While I gave myself top billing I came to see that Nancy was blazing the trail on this adventure. I was merely following behind trying to describe it.

Now, though, she is resting from her role as pacesetter, and I will try to catch up in time. Pray for me as I try to make that adjustment. Once again I am reminded that the True Pacesetter is the One labeled the Pioneer and Perfecter of our faith in Hebrews 12:1. Ask HIM to help me keep HIM in sight as I stumble along.

Lasting Images from Last Week

As I have mentioned Nancy received lots of cards and letters during her illness. KJ cut out and strung most of these to capture the support we received over the months. We strung her creation at the funeral home the night of the viewing.

KJ's tribute to the many friends who wrote us

In 1999 Nancy painted an abstract self-portrait to convey the freedom she was finding as she walked with God. Instead of a photograph we choose to display that painting at her memorial service.

When she signed the work she also cited Job 33:27-30 which reads:

Then he comes to men and says, "I have sinned and perverted what was right, but I did not get what I deserved. He redeemed my soul from going down to the pit and I shall live to enjoy the light. God does all these things to a man--twice, even three times--to turn back his soul from the pit that the light of life may shine on him.

Her first public showing of that painting last week celebrated the completion of the journey she portrayed, now her soul is aglow with the light of life.

so what WAS the point?

This morning as I walked out of O'Neil's Store, I realized that for the first time in this journey I was no longer doing things "for Nancy." I was just buying groceries for KJ and me. That felt weird and empty.

This past year shopping, cleaning, doctors' visits and many other things sprang from a need to love her in new ways. That final decline completely centered me on caring for her. This past six days we sought to honor her life after she went home. But yesterday I noticed that the things on my "to do list" were about making the logistics of life work without Nancy around. A startling realignment had taken place.

Shortly after the funeral, we began the process of a hard and sudden landing. Now the purpose of the last few months has been removed, now the adrenaline and the special "anointing" of the past month is ebbing. I know that I have to stop, I should stop, I will stop. It is a time to wait, and rest and grieve the special loss that we bear.

At the time, another thought is taking shape. Was this journey just all about serving Nancy? Often this week, I thought she would have loved every part of this week: the music, the gathering, the preaching and sharing---except that it was "all about her." And she never was like that. No, her disease was not about her. I remember the words Jesus spoke about Lazarus's illness and "temporary death." "It is for God's glory, so that God's son may be glorified through it." Certainly, that was Nancy's heart. And HE was glorified as she remained steadfast, as her children honored her, as the Community of faith, and the community at large watched us strive to live out the gospel when times were tough. This was not about Nancy, but about showing HIS glory through Nancy. Each of the kindnesses extended her, each prayer uttered for her, each tear shed for her have been acts of worship.

Now I remember: serving Nancy was never to be the central goal of my life or this family's motto. Instead, we are called to "offer our bodies as living sacrifices in a spiritual act of worship." (Rom 12:1) So, maybe there is purpose in the journey ahead.

We are left to wait for HIM to reshape this process just as HE did as we sought to worship HM as we sought to serve her. Ask HIM to help us wait in faith and hope.

Super Send Off

Shortly after noon yesterday we walked away from Nancy's grave. She had received a glorious send-off.

Our time at New Life had included singing, Blessed Be Your Name in which we affirmed our conviction that:

YOU give and take away

My heart will choose to say

Blessed be Your Name

On behalf of the family. Josh reminded us of the mother who fed her family applesauce on a train across Germany, and the wife who could practice the art of "driving sarcastically" when her husband became overbearing. More than that he honored her as a woman who had found the pearl of great price and laid claim to it, a daughter of the King who served in His Kingdom.

Then our old Ireland team leader Hunter Dockery took us in to Philippians 1 and talked about that gospel power which had transformed this girl so broken by the early years of her life into a woman of great freedom and creativity. He used Nancy's story to remind us that HE has the power to bring the rest of us safely home, too.

At her graveside we sang "Jesus, All for Jesus." She would have liked that because she loved songs that simply exalted her Savior.

This week one of her old friends reminded me that when she prayed with Nancy, Nancy would often pray, "Come quickly, Lord Jesus." That prayer was answered last week when he came to get her. That often repeated prayer had been answered much sooner than I would have selfishly wished, but it clearly fulfilled the desire of her heart.

Nancy's body now rests at the spot its earthly journey ended, until HE returns to reclaim it on that triumphant day. But, in another sense, our journey continues. What shape will it take? I don't have clue this morning, but I do believe "he who began a good work...will bring it to completion on the day of Christ Jesus."

Pray for our family...and keep reading....you never know what the journey will bring. And clearly, the best IS yet to come.

Grieving in Community

Out of town arrivals, service details and finishing a slide show filled the day. Karen Keller hosted a wonderful dinner for our extended family. Then it was off to the funeral home.

Around 9pm the kids and I took one last look at the vessel that had carried Nancy through 55 years on the earth. During the previous two hours we had stood beside Nancy's casket and greeted a steady stream of fellow mourners. The evening brought:

• JOY as each person brought another memory, reflecting the richness of our life together
• SORROW because I would never again sit in a room with any of these folks and talk and laugh with Nancy. Death is still an outrage, and I do sense Life Interrupted.
• PRIDE as I watched the kids greet and engage each person who approached them. I couldn't help think they were reflecting Nancy's capacity to welcome whomever approached her, even when she was sad or suffering
• ANTICIPATION because in spite of what said earlier, we will party with this group again--soon and very soon. I claim the line from "Jesus is my Morning Sun" which reminds us "Jesus Christ will come again. What a glad reunion then!"

In about 3 hours we head to New Life Church to celebrate Nancy's life and the hope of resurrection and HIS return. It will be a day requiring another special outpouring of grace. But HE is near the broken hearted....so I count on Him to be very close at hand.

Dont Send flowers!

Today I decided that staging a funeral is lots of work. I found myself glad for the extra days mandated by the state due to the long weekend. We were busy with cemetery, housecleaning, hospitality coordination and reviewing pictures and plans. Don't get me wrong, it was a labor of love. Furthermore, it kept us busy; working in the midst of grief felt good, it felt right, and it felt like we are completing some of the last steps of the journey of loving Nancy.

Leah, Anne, KJ, Chris and Josh have been amazing the last few months. They have plowed ahead amidst their pain and fatigue in a way that honors Nancy and me AND glorifies HIM. During Nancy's illness, we often stopped to exclaim, "We have awesome kids." STILL DO!!

Like I say, don't send flowers....Instead, if you wish to honor Nancy's memory, you can send donations to either:


CityNet Ministries
PO Box 35189
Philadelphia, PA 19128
Designated for Ark Art

(Nancy loved children and this fund will help to ignite the creative gifts of inner city kids.)

World Harvest Mission
101 West Ave Suite 305
Jenkintown PA 19046
Designated for Cluj Ministry Fund

(She also loved Europe. This fund will expand efforts to reflect God's glory through creative ministry in Romania among the artistic community)

Tomorrow we move to the public events that mark Nancy's homecoming with the evening viewing. Please pray!

Logistics and Longings

Another long day. This morning Josh and I finalized things at the funeral home, met with Terry to firm up funeral service details. The afternoon filled up with phone calls, selecting pictures and artwork for display and other logistics. We are almost set now. Later I popped over to see Lucia and Micah.Okay, I do think he has my nose.

This morning we were telling Jonah and Aiden that Amma was in heaven now, fully healed. "She can talk again?" Jonah asked. Yes, Buddy, and shout and sing and laugh. Heaven seems closer now.

Thanks for all the encouraging notes. Keep praying for the next phase of the journey.