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.