kevinshorey23

Here's the story, about as complete as it gets

2009-03-17T07:16:00.000-07:00

This is a collection of emails chronicling an emotional, mental, spiritual, and relational wandering into and through grief.

The first ones deal with anticipation and excitement leading up to a greatly expected surgery.

The next section covers recovery and excitement about a greatly expected return to full health and vivaciousness for Ruth.

Then enter the specters, Death and Anguish.

Followed by my steady companions, Grief and Hope.

I would say “finally”, but it is not over. Will it ever be? I will just say ‘now’. Because now is where I choose to live. I know even better than before that tomorrow is never certain. And I hopefully learn from yesterday. But now is all I have. And if now is sad, then I cry. If now is hilarious, I laugh until I cry. And if now is just everyday stuff, then I go shopping, or go out to eat, or go to the bathroom.

Like the story the kid wrote on his cast about how he broke his arm, this is written so you can get the whole story in one place, at one time.

If you like it, that’s cool. If it helps, that’s great too. If you relate to some of what happened to me, I hope you also find hope as I have.

But this is not written as a road map through grief. It is simply my story of my grief.

People have told me I should write a book. I have told them that if I did, it would be the best book I ever read about my own grief. It has helped me process everything so far, and it has been a way to stay connected to family and friends who loved her. If that helps someone else, that’s “gravy” as Ruth used to say. Gravy is all the stuff that goes on the table after the necessities, the meat and potatoes, have been taken care of.

For those of you who don’t know what transpired before we came to China, here’s the brief story.

November of 2007 at a teacher convention in Dallas we were introduced to an overseas teaching organization. We were planning to go back and teach in Longview the next year, but those plans were changed. We were being sent to China to teach in an international school in Kunming, China.

Andrew, Timothy, and Wesley came with us. Bethany, K’Leigh, and Jonathan stayed in college in the states.

Ruth was teaching second grade. I am teaching 6^th grade. This is an amazing school. It is also a great place to live.

When we came we knew that it was a remote possibility that Ruth might need surgery to remove a fibroid tumor from her uterus before we returned to the states the next summer.

It was determined she needed surgery sooner rather than later. We decided to go to Bummrungrad Hospital in Bangkok Thailand. It is an amazing hospital. We received better care than any hospital we’d ever been to in the states. The surgery went well, but after she left the hospital a blood clot lodged in her lung. Ruth died on Friday September 12.

The boys and I came back to the states for a memorial service. We stayed in Texas for about 6 weeks, then returned to Kunming.

And that’s where we are now. Where we are supposed to be. Learning and teaching and living. Definitely living.

And one more thing, speaking of learning. I have learned two certainties. He is good and He loves me, but you’ll read more about that later.

Expectantly hoping September 4 2008

2009-03-17T07:13:00.000-07:00

Sept 4 2008

(After having run into snags getting surgery done in the states in the summer, it was determined Ruth should have it done early in the school year. It had been scheduled a couple times in Texas, but something always came up, or didn’t come through and she was going to wait until the next summer. What was thought to be one tumor in the states, ended up being 6. Some of those were discovered at a routine exam in Kunming during her first sonogram since being diagnosed. We were excited at the opportunity for Ruth to be well and active again.)

We have plane tickets. We have a reservation at a place to stay. We have appointments. We have a surgeon lined up. We have three types of currency. We have some hope. The last piece of the puzzle is the insurance company paying before and not after. That would help.

I feel like the boy who cried wolf. This is as close to certainty as we have come so far, and it appears Ruth will have surgery this weekend or early next week.

We are going to Thailand Friday and have appointments Saturday morning. They might do surgery that day or the next. The place we are staying is across the street from the hospital.

Remember us (and the boys) as we finally begin to get this behind us.

The boys are staying with a cousin at our place. We have open ended return tickets just in case we need to stay a little longer. I will be heading back when Ruth is doing well after surgery. Someone is going to come stay with Ruth while she recovers for a few weeks before returning to Kunming.

Thank you to all who have helped make this possible. The knowledge that you are with us now is so comforting and encouraging.

PS. On a lighter note…

I have created a blog with some stories and pictures. Enjoy!

Remember to use nice language when you write to us

Going to Thailand September 4 2008

2009-03-17T07:12:00.000-07:00

Sept 4 2008

I know I sent this to everyone, but wanted to personally thank you guys for caring so much about us during this whole surgery thing.

We leave in a few hours for my second new country in 2 months. I wish we were headed to Thailand to see our Compassion child instead of going for 'business'. But I am just happy we can finally get this done.

If you wanted to pop in and check on the patient, we'll be at Bummrungrad Hospital in Bangkok. The set up seems pretty cool. Come in for an examination appointment, maybe have surgery later that day. Or the next.

My aunt is coming down to stay with Ruth after I leave. The school has been very understanding. They don't care when I come back. Just kidding. The sooner the better. But they really don't mind me staying with her until she is recovering well.

It's awesome having family here. We have dinner with them most Sundays and my aunt is coming down to stay with her after I leave. She will be down there about 3 weeks.

You guys are great.

We'll try to let you know what is happening. I am taking my computer with me so I can try to stay in touch.

Kevin

Night before surgery (Fun night!) September 7 2008

2009-03-17T07:09:00.000-07:00

Sept 7 2008

Hey guys, here’s an update so far on Ruth.

Tomorrow she is having surgery on the tumors (they found 5) on her uterus. They are also doing gall stone surgery as well. They found a sizeable stone and decided it needed to come out too. Not sure if they are removing the gall bladder or just the part with the stone in it.

The second surgery is not as invasive. And it will not significantly lengthen the recovery time.
The other good news is that the insurance will cover the gall bladder surgery.

If things go well I will come back Wednesday night. If she is taking longer to recover, I will stay until I feel she is doing better, regardless of what she thinks.

Ruth will be rooming with one of the teachers from the school who is here for surgery as well. That was cool how that worked out. Ruth and Jane can talk about where they want to stay when Jane comes down Wednesday.

We went to a mall today. To give you an idea of the size, the IMAX is on the 5th and 6th floors, and the largest aquarium in Southeast Asia is in the basement. (Oh yeah, The Dark Night was mighty impressive on an IMAX screen.)

Ruth misses everyone and wishes you could all have come to the mall with us. She wants to get something for the girls in Thailand.

The language is softer than Chinese, and the people are smilier.

You can email back, but we have to pay for internet access, so I am not on as frequently.

Love to all of you.

I have a phone here. (it cost about 6 dollars for a sim card.)

Kevin.

In surgery September 7 2008

2009-03-17T07:08:00.000-07:00

Sept 7 2008

Howdy from Thai land.

Four o’clock p.m. Bangkok time. 5:00 p.m. in Kunming. 6:00 p.m. in Seoul. 4:00 a.m. in Texas.

They took Ruth into the surgery room at 3:00. (do the math for you guys not here.) At 4:00 the surgery is to start. Hysterectomy with one doctor, Gall bladder surgery with the other. Both are nice, that counts for something. Think about them while they do the procedures. The plan is to do an epidural, laproscopic on the gb, and a bikini cut.

She should be done about 7 then back in the room at 9. (here, I’ll help… 8 and 10 in Kunming, 9 and 11 in Seoul, 7am and 9am in Texas and Arkansas.)

I’ll write again when she is out.

In the meantime, be thinking about her.

A correction in the room number. She is in 860. The other teacher is in 858. It’s the same room, just a different bed and phone. Sharing the phone wouldn’t be so bad, but…

Oh for Curt, Jane and LeRoy, we are checking out of Sara Inn. They are doing loud floor-shaking construction, and the bed is almost as hard as the one in Kunming (sans foam), except here the springs are geometrically designed to stick up in a strategic pattern to keep one awake most of the night. You should have seen Ruth demanding an egg crate or extra blankets and pillows. She even made the poor nice little man feel the bed to show him how bad it was. She got her pillow.

The hospital bed is much better. ME, I could sleep on a rock (actually I have).

Jane, Ruth wants to go shopping before she comes back. Two thing... don't let her overdo it, and don't let her bankrupt us. Not much chance of her doing the second, but she might do the first. I know she wants to come home early, but make sure she is ready before she does. A couple more days down here will not make that much difference in the long run.

Talk to you soon.

Kevin

Back in the room September 7 2008

2009-03-17T07:07:00.000-07:00

Sept 7 2008

Ruth is back in the room. The nurse said she did well. Haven’t seen a doctor yet, but she’s sleeping comfortably right now.

We will let you know more tomorrow after we have seen the surgeons. For those of you who want some details, she had a large gall stone. The nurse was amazed at the size of it. (In fact, Ruth got to keep it, wanna see?)

She is doing pretty well though, sleeping comfortably except when the nurses come in to check to see if she is sleeping comfortably.

For those of you in the Western hemisphere, we are going to bed for the night. Look for an update in about 11 hours.

Thanks again for thinking about us.

Kevin

Good report after surgery September 8 2008

2009-03-17T07:06:00.000-07:00

Sept 8 2008

Not much new this morning, she is alternating between sleeping and watching “Persuasion”. Her pain level is still fairly high, but mine would too, dealing with 4 incisions.

Three small ones for the gall stone. One large one for the tumors. The doctor said it

was a bit bigger than she thought it would be, so she had to make a slightly larger incision.

She is supposed to stay in the hospital 5 days, then back here for a follow up to see when she is released to travel.

They have taken her off the intravenous pain medicine, and now have gone to oral. She will be able to eat a light meal tonight or tomorrow morning.

The care and service is amazing. They are so fast and efficient. No waiting. Unbelievable.
McDonald’s is great no matter what continent you are on. Even if it is a sausage, egg and cheese burger (not biscuit, this shore ain’t Texas ya’ll).

I wish I liked Starbucks. They have two.

Carrying three currencies is confusing.

Ruth likes Starbucks so that’s all good.

We will be looking for a quieter place to stay when she gets out. We will let you know where we’ll be. Still not sure when I will go back, but it is looking more like Wednesday. She seems to be doing well. We’ll play it by ear.

I will leave the phone card for Ruth and Jane when I leave.

More later.

Kevin

Surgery update from Ruth September 8 2008

2009-03-17T07:05:00.000-07:00

Sept 8 2008

(From Ruth)

Ruth’s turn…

OK Well

My favorite part was the first 24 hours on morphine and catheter and not having to get out of bed at all.

Actually my favorite is sharing everything with Kevin, he is my clown and my cavalier, and I had to tell him stop making me laugh cause it hurts too bad. He is the quintessential hospital partner

I miss you all, but I love seeing the slide show of you (the kids) on the computer. Hoping sometime we could do Bangkok together, just not under circumstances like this.

I think my two surgeons were slightly shocked at how big my tumors and gall stones were. I’ll bring my trophy home for you. I may even get a cd so you can see the mammoth tumor

I supposedly should be back in Kunming Sunday or Monday

How do you like your bedroom colors, boys?

Are you being nice to Dave Dave?

I am finding Him present in the pain. And in every other area of my life. “He is near to the broken hearted and the crushed in spirit” can also apply to me. (ps34).

Did you know you only have one gall bladder?

Take care of your gall bladder.

Love and kisses

Ruth

Humorous routine update September 9 2008

2009-03-17T07:04:00.000-07:00

Sept 9 2008

The doctor came by today to check on Ruth. She is progressing fairly well. Right now the concern is her going to the loo. She has eaten solid food for 2 ½ days now and has not passed anything but water. They have a solution for that, but I would rather skip to the point. When she goes, she can go. If she feels up to it.

She had trouble going to sleep last night. If you know much about her, she can sleep on a freight train in a tornado, but last night she had to have a sleeping pill. She will be staying one more night here.

Leaving the hospital September 11 2008

2009-03-17T07:03:00.000-07:00

Sept 11 2008

We are out of the hospital tonight and staying at a guesthouse north of Bangkok. Ruth is doing fairly well. She is having some back spasms and has a little trouble sleeping. But she looks happy to be out of the hospital.

I fly back tomorrow, Ruth follows in a week to 10 days.

Sorry you didn’t get any updates. It was a long day and night yesterday, on the phone from 12 a.m. to 3 a.m. with insurance.

And then two hours today with the billing department in the hospital.

Both groups were working with us, just speaking different languages, literally and speaking different languages, business-wise.

Ruth will have the computer with her until she comes back. Write her a note at ruthshorey@oasisis.org. She will be hanging out in the room a lot this next week.

Thanks for thinking about us.

Kevin

Worst day of my life September 12 2008

2009-03-17T07:02:00.000-07:00

(This was the day Ruth died. I was on the phone almost constantly from about 9 in the morning until 2 in the morning. Had to tell all 6 of the kids and several friends in person on the phone. Juggling three phones and three sim cards from three countries. It was the worst day of my life. One friend offered to come from the states to be with us, another friend did come from Seoul to be with us.)

Sept 12 2008

My emotions are all over the map.

Details. A clot dislodged somewhere and moved to her lung.

There were two nurses and a doctor staying at the place where we were last night.

I was about to leave to get on the plane when it first happened. She had a seizure of some sort, then she was better, but drained and found out within 3 minutes her blood pressure was low. The nurses and doctor were wonderful. The ambulance got here quickly, there were emt's, not common in Thailand, who began working on her. She arrived at the hospital conscious, and they worked with her too.

Her heart stopped, not a heart attack, 3 times and they did cpr and got her heart beating again. But there was nothing they could do. She was not in pain or distress. And wasn't aware of what was happening after the first stoppage at the hospital. I was with her when she left.

I am about done telling people in person on the phone.

We are heading home as soon as possible, hopefully Sunday. NICS is helping, and our insurance is also helping. Thanks for your offer to come. I know you meant it. You can do more for me there.

Kevin

Sad news report September 14 2008

2009-03-17T06:59:00.000-07:00

Sept 14 2008

First I would like to say I hope to respond to all of your emails personally, but things are a little crazy now.

We don't have many details yet, but we are hoping to be back in the states by Tuesday to be back with the other kids.

They are surrounded by friends and family right now, as we are in Bangkok. My aunt, uncle, one cousin, and an administrator from the school are here to be with us until we go back.

We have people making arrangements and caring for us in so many ways. There are so many details to take care of here and there and I am so thankful we have people taking many of the burdens from us.

There will be more details to follow, feel free to pass it on to others

Never thought I'd be writing this so soon.

Ruth passed peacefully and in no discernible pain from a blood clot in her lung. Her heart stopped several times, but there was no heart attack, the blood clot was just inhibiting the heart from working.

She received better care than I could have imagined, there were two nurses and a doctor staying at the guest house where she was recovering after surgery. Within seconds of her first symptoms, she was being professionally cared for. There was just nothing that could be done. There were EMT's who administered care in the ambulance. The doctors at the hospital were excellent. They did everything they could to save her.

I was with her. She was peaceful. And now she's free.

We have been overwhelmed by the love shown to us by all of you. Thank you for being Christ to us.

Kevin

So tired of telling people and hurting them September 17 2008

2009-03-17T06:56:00.000-07:00

(Two families from the Texas Christian Ashram, a family camp we attend each summer, lost their adult children and a grandchild in a devastating car accident. Here, I responded to one of the family members.)

Sept 17

I am so sad for you, your mom and dad. I know you love Ruth and us and are hurting still, and again. I wish I had not had to bring this news, especially to your family. I started crying again when i thought of your mom hearing about Ruth. I wish you did not know what we are going through. We love you guys too.

Kevin

(And this was written to one set of parents. At the Ashram last summer, trees were planted by the lake to remember them. This year another tree will join theirs.)

You are the last people I wanted to break the news too. It seemed rather unfair to bring this to you in light of your loss too. It hurts me to bring hurt to you.

You said something I have appreciated more than most of the things I have heard so far. You encourage me.

"Some things in this world just stink and defy any explanation, but God is faithful and His Word is always true. He will uphold you and the Holy Spirit just never runs out of comfort."

Those words have rung true in me this week. Thank you so much for your courage.

Kevin

Seat belt moments September 18 2008

2009-03-17T06:53:00.000-07:00

(The boys were flown from Kunming to Bangkok the day Ruth died. David, my cousin, and LeRoy, my uncle, flew with them. David accompanied us to Texas. We left Bangkok as soon as all the arrangements and legal dealings were taken care of.)

Sept 18 2008

We arrived about 9:45 p.m. at DFW. We stayed in the metroplex that night and then headed to East Texas Tuesday. Wednesday evening we will be in Hallsville. Here were some thoughts on the way over from Bangkok to LA.

Such mixed emotions. I am on my first 747 flight. Always wanted to do this. Ever since I was a wee bairn, I have flown all over the place and longed wistfully to be on this big flying building. I would even be jealous of the UPS guys that got to fly on the jumbo cargo runs.

But it’s just not the same. Some of the luster is gone. I wanted to share this with my best friend. This and so many other little things. She liked the things I didn’t when we would go to eat. I thought about saving the yogurt on the plane for breakfast for her this morning. I hate yogurt.

Then it caught me again, like trying to get out of the car with your seatbelt still on. I forget she’s not here until it’s too late to prepare my heart for the jolt back into the car. I just want to get out, but I keep getting pulled back in.

I don’t mind remembering. I even embrace the sadness at times, so I don’t get hardened and brittle. Brokenness is where the potter can start over. Remake me Lord, I am broken. I want to stop forgetting so the sadness doesn’t startle me, just gently reminds me to miss her.

One day…

Peace and comfort I have received in the knowledge that so many people are doing so many things to make this easier. People caring for my children, comforting them, hugging them, standing in the gap until I can get back to them. Some friends have gone to the house to get it ready for us to arrive. There are even people making plans for the memorial service, so we won’t have to carry the entire burden of that.

The celebration service is Saturday 11 a.m. at First United Methodist Church in Longview. It was one of the few places in town big enough for all of you to attend. Plus she loved the sanctuary there. And it is not a funeral, but a memorial celebration. The family will not be all in black, nor do we expect you to be either. A wise friend from Kunming noted Ruth dressed so colorfully and vibrantly (inside and out), that we should honor that. (He had only known her a few weeks, yet she had already made an impression). Good idea.

I only packed to stay a few days with Ruth after surgery. My aunt came down from Kunming to stay with Ruth for a couple of weeks while she recovered fully. Then I think they were going shopping. Ruth had an excuse (she didn’t really need one), since she had lost a dress size or two after the operation and recovery.

My cousin David packed for all three boys in 15 minutes as they were trying to catch a flight to Bangkok, and it was leaving soon. (Thanks David, you got us together quicker than I could have dreamed).

Since the boys and I brought very little clothing with us to Thailand, we went and bought some things to wear this weekend. Things Ruth would have liked us in. (Plus they were on sale, she would be so proud). So join us in this celebration of a life that brought so much joy and wisdom to so many. Share with us the joy and laughter she brought to us. Cry with us too. It is so sad to go on without her. But she is doing her funny little dance now in front of a Savior who she loved so intimately. Let’s get together and share what she means to us and how God used her to show us joy and grace and beauty.

Kevin

Friends loved her too September 19 2008

2009-03-17T06:51:00.000-07:00

Sept 19 2008

Email conversation with a friend…

He said,

I don't know what to say. I'm filled with sadness for you and the kids and all the people who will be profoundly effected by no longer having Ruth in their lives, but I also keep realizing that RUTH IS IN HEAVEN!! How awesome is that?!?!?

My response,

It was one amazing thought I had. She is doing her funny little dance right now. But you know me, I can't tell many people this, I told her in a pretty good sarcastic voice as I was leaving her side, "That's not fair. Now I have to stay here and deal with all this. How fair is that?"

Then I gently pinched her big toe like I did sometimes when I walked out of the bedroom and she was still in bed.

Thought you would appreciate that.

Thanks for loving her too.

Kevin

Come in Depression September 30 2008

2009-03-17T06:50:00.000-07:00

September 30 2008

It has been a while since you last heard from me. Several times I wanted to ‘let you in’ to see how we were doing, but I couldn’t. I know everyone will say they understand and they weren’t expecting anything, but I know what it is like to start a story and then not have the next installment to read.

For a time there, it was nigh impossible to put two sentences together and have it sound like I was a native speaker. And I am not sure what you are about to read will make much sense. My only suggestion is to read it slowly, maybe that will help.

The three boys and I have been in Austin for a few days. We are next headed to the Dallas area, then to Arkansas to spend a few days with Bethany. Please continue to think about us as we wade into the waters of what it means to be 7 Shoreys, after having had the honor for the last 11 years to be 8 Shoreys. It is certainly different, and not better, but it can still be good.

Here goes…

Come in Depression, you are not a surprise visitor. Wrap your arms around me; I don’t summon the drive to resist. You are a melancholy sadness without the kindness of tears. A desert. Dry, flat, seemingless,

Depression, but not despair. See, Despair is a door in Depression’s house I will to not enter. Despair lures me into a non-life through the portal of self-pity, down the tunnel of dark thoughts and paralyzing fear. It whispers; ‘This is impossible. Don’t go on. Give up. Just stop. Leave. Run away, if not in body, then at least in mind. Go through the motions… who cares…

But a trickling hope is still hope. Because that other voice, the one you’ve heard so often, whispers truth again, “this is hard. go on. look up. Don’t stop - just rest. remain. stand fast, if not like a mighty warrior at least like a stubborn habit. Go through the door..I care, your friends care, your kids care…

So, not Despair,

But Depression has presented it’s card and been ushered in, because there is a hole in my heart, deceptively deep. And no matter what I shovel in, nothing fills it. Either it is too big, or I am not big enough. Despite the distractions or positive thoughts or busy-ness, Depression is not put off, it stays in the parlor, waiting.

All the future life scenarios are overwhelming. Doing everything with half of me is beyond daunting, it’s disheartening. No wonder Depression sauntered in so easily.

But there IS hope. Hope that I too will be rejoicing beyond belief when the time comes. Hope that I will be used and changed and fully alive again, not dim, but bright and colorful. Hope that I can bring hope to others because hope has been gifted to me. That is something to look forward to, even as I acutely dread many of the days to come.

As for now, Depression is here in the sitting room, but so is Hope. And even though they have visited others together before on so many occasions, they still don’t end up getting along. I have a hunch that Hope will outlast Depression, and Hope will be a regular visitor. Who knows? Hope may even choose to move in. I’ve seen it happen before.

So come in Hope, I’m sure I can find you a room if you choose to stay.

Letter to a friend September 30 2008

2009-03-17T06:49:00.000-07:00

Sept 30 2008

As an amateur dabbling in psychology, it has been interesting to watch myself as this has gone on. I even realize the trap of analyzing and not feeling, so I have put some things in place to enter the feelings and just sit with them for a while. Sitting with depression was fascinating and not altogether enjoyable. Today's emotional flavor of the day seems to be fear of going on. Depression made me nervous, this one scares me. (probably why it's called fear). Thanks for two things. Your perspective now and your encouragement and help before.

Hug your wife.

Kevin

October 7 2008

2009-03-17T06:47:00.000-07:00

Oct 7 2008

Email to an administrator at Kunming International Academy

I know people are asking about our return. I wish this was easy. It isn't. The timetable I have in mind right now is to have the boys back in class on Nov 3. I may need a few days in Kunming to be ready to be back in the classroom. There are some personal things I need to take care of before I am ready to teach again. I have some administrative, domestic, and emotional business to take care of so I can feel effective at the school. I want to come back as whole as possible. I don't mind it being tough, but I don't want to fail either.

Thank you so much for so many things you did for us. Being with my boys those days was a big deal. And I know you felt horrible physically. that was a huge sacrifice I didn't want to go unnoticed. Also, you did so many things just by being there, and then also by sharing at the service. People have faith in the groups we are working with, Oasis and KIA, because of your presence and eloquence. I have had many people tell me how impressed they were that you came from China just to be here. I know that wasn't your purpose, but it served us in an amazing way. And finally, when you dressed in a bright shirt with no tie or jacket, it meant more to me than I can say. It honored Ruth in a way I feel but cannot express. It may have been a sacrifice or uncomfortable for you (I hope not), but it was huge to me. I really am struggling to find words to express how big it was to me.

Thank you for all that and for all you did there in Kunming. You are a servant deserving of a servant's reward. Blessings because you were and are such a blessing to us.

I am looking forward to being home.

Kevin

Remembering a fearful day November 6 2008

2009-03-17T06:45:00.000-07:00

November 6

Much has happened since the last letter. A quick update, we are back in our apartment in Kunming. The boys started school Monday, and I start Friday. We are not just moving on though. This isn't something you get through and leave behind. It walks with us every day. But we are moving forward, taking what life has given us and relying on him to sustain us. He has come through before, and is coming through now.

Let me try to give you a few glimpses in the next few letters into where we have been these last several weeks physically and mentally/emotionally.

The day after the email about depression, I was feeling antsy about getting back to Kunming to return to teaching, to getting back to living in a place we feel is home. I thought I was about ready to begin the going back process. It wasn't just a desire to get back to work and to be busy in order to 'forget'. It was wanting to go home. To do what we were called/sent to do. We had already determined to return, I just hadn't set a date.

I received an email from Compassion International about our planned visit to Bangkok to see our sponsored child Panlop. That was something Ruth and I had dreamed of doing since we were only 2 hours by plane from where he lives. By a propitious twist, we were scheduled back to Bangkok instead of Kunming. That made it easy to decide to go see him on the way back to China.

A very unexpected moment happened when I saw that email. I had contacted them and given some choices of dates for the visit. When they emailed back, they said it was possible to see Panlop on October 30th.

I was shocked, but for totally illogical reasons. Suddenly I was pushed into making concrete decisions. I was no longer in total control of all the details concerning our return to Asia.

Apparently, not deciding on firm dates for the visit, for our flights, for our arrival in Kunming, was part of a control issue. Understandable, given the total lack of control over so many decisions I was forced into making in the previous few days. Doctors, hospital staff, officials, even family asking tough questions that demanded answers right away. Do we resuscitate again or not... do you want to cremate or prepare for burial... do you want to have a service at the cremation... are you going to wait for the remains or will you go back to the other kids sooner...

Totally unprepared, making decisions on auto pilot. Thank above for Curt and David and Jane and LeRoy. What an incredible support they were in those first hours, days. I have scared myself imagining what it would have been like to do all that alone...

The specific details from the Compassion email jolted me into the realm of tangible planning again. I was allowed no more nebulous 'maybes'. I was immobilized by that thought.

For the next 10 minutes i just sat.

Overwhelmed.

With everything; teaching, traveling, packing, being a dad without, being back home in Kunming, calling the airlines, making travel plans from Bangkok to Kunming after our visit with Panlop, answering awkward questions from loving 6th graders, saying tough goodbyes, tough hello's.

It was weird. Unexpected. And I was disappointed in me. I should be stronger; 'play the man'.

Lady Macbeth would have had a field day with me.

Instead, I felt...

fragile

That's not a word I have often used with me before.

Stupid maybe, foolish, unprepared, sheepish. But not fragile.

I felt like one of those Regency romance ninnies who need their smelling salts to be able to revive enough to concoct more inane dialogue.

A stark realization occurred. I was not nearly as ready to jump back into it as I thought I was. The plan and timetable I had been going by, the schedule I had set for our return was wise and I didn't need to short circuit it just because I felt I was doing well for about 12 minutes one sunny afternoon.

Cognitively, I knew no one was putting those expectations on me. Compassion would have rescheduled. The school would have waited for us to get back. 6th graders can be exceptionally gracious. I could go away to so many friend's homes to have time to heal. For as long as I needed. But the feeling was all consuming. Logic and reason were left outside cooling their heels.

I knew then I was all those things I hate to associate with me. I had to rely on people. Another foreign concept. Having to say, 'I can't'. 'Will you do this simple thing for me?'. 'Can I just be here and not answer your questions for a while?'

And I had no assurance that I would ever be different; better; anything resembling wholeness again.

Is this who I am now? Please, please no.

On this side of fragile I can see healing in humility and dependence. But when I was immersed in it, it was debilitating. Just let me find a dark corner.

And don't find me.

................

Obviously that was one stage in this trip. There have been others. Some expected, some not. All have helped shape where I am now. And now is much better than then. Coming through that has helped hope to grow. Hope for healing.

Speaking of 6th graders, I get to see them tomorrow. That will be really good. They have an innate ability to balance grief with goofiness. Wow, healing has not looked like what I thought it would.

Awkward and painful November 13 2008

2009-03-17T06:43:00.000-07:00

November 13 2008

About 2 1/2 weeks after we arrived back in the states, we went to see Ruth’s sister.

One awkward thing happened the day we went to the State Fair. Actually the whole day was a little strange, because we weren't sharing that day with Ruth. She loved this stuff.

Since Ruth and Esther are sisters, they do share some similarities. And there was another Asian college friend with us as well. So...

At the midway, a barker was enticing us to play his game. We were going to anyway, so he didn't have to work so hard. Anyway, he said to the kids..."come on, you guys know you want to beat your mom at this game!" Of course there was no response from our part, good or ill, in fact. So he tried harder. "Hey you guys know you want to beat your mom, like she beats you at home."

Really awkward.

No telling what he was thinking about us. ‘Tough crowd’ maybe.

Things like that are going to happen, and they will be easier to deal with, maybe even humorous, but not that day.

We all had a small wry smile about it in the car on the way back, not really a good laugh, but a little strange ‘funny’.

The fair incident was awkward. A friend used the phrase 'huge hole' to describe what was going on. I completely agree. I'll explain later.

It's so hard to get a handle on this grief thing.

It looks different all the time. It's the Cheshire Cat of emotions. Like the weekend after the fair, grief looked like cargo shorts and darth vader t-shirt, with tears riveling down an 11 year old face behind a backwards cowboy hat pulled down to hide the pain. An 11 year old face, but a heart much older.

He is growing up too fast.

The hole is not a wide chasm. (I sorted this out the day of the fair. I hate not being able to put a label on an emotion. Once more I find grief elusive.) The hole, I found, is smaller across than I thought, but unfathomably deep. Like the hole in the yard where the tree used to be. You know it's there, but you forget exactly where until you step in it and it breaks your ankle.

We can be going along, making jokes and enjoying one another, then one of us will get that far away look I've grown sickeningly accustomed to. The look that sighs, "I wish...".

It's the guilt that gets me. Feeling guilty for having fun without her. Laughing when it seems incongruous with the feelings we 'should' be feeling. Wow, that 'should' opens a whole conversation on propriety and moving forward through the grieving. And I can hear people saying things like,

"She wouldn't want you to feel guilty..."

The truth in that statement doesn't change the feelings. Much like the truth about engaging in spiritual disciplines doesn't change the feelings of "I really wish I were doing something else right now".

A caring friend who carved some time out of an incredibly crazy busy schedule just to meet with us for breakfast taquitos at Whataburger was trying to reach out and console, and he succeeded, but he rethought many things he said after we had a chance to hash things out. He said it must be like half of me is gone. Well...

It's different than that.

See, what had happened is that through the last three years or so, Ruth and I had built a close friendship as well as a marriage. So when she was gone, I had lost a wife, a best friend and something else. The whole mystery of two being one entails the development of a third personality. There is me. There is her. There is us. Can't completely explain it. I've tried. I guess if I could, it wouldn't be a mystery.

So I lost her, and we, and a best friend. Wow, I just now realized something else while I was writing this. I lost Us too. For 11 years we have been "8 Shoreys". Now we are 7 Shoreys.

Us is a different number. In the car. At the table. At the movies. At the restaurant. In the pew.

Andrew and I share many things, one of which is the feeling of settledness we experience when all 8 of us are together. It is valium. It feels like placing the last piece of the jigsaw puzzle. Turning in grades. Kissing the last child goodnight.

That's why the hole is deep. Layers of loss. Bottomless doesn't begin to describe...

But there are 7. That is our new number. We live with it. As long as we live. As long as we live.

I choose to live.

New traditions must start, we certainly can't do things just like we used to. Christmas is daunting, but that baby in the manger will be born all over again. And stockings will be stuffed like before. Wonderful stockings we will touch with new appreciation. Because the hands that made them loved the hands that touch them.

But it will still be a celebration. We will sing again. And do silly things that will become inside jokes. New may be hard, but it is still good.

New defines us.

But I’d do anything to bring back the old days. And not just the good ones either.

Kevin

Life in Kunming after returning November 14 2008

2009-03-17T06:33:00.000-07:00

November 14 2008

Focus is returning. At times I just sit. I Have to write notes or I completely forget. It is so strange.

The boys are doing fairly well. Wesley is learning his way around the bus system here, trial and error. He has had a cough and drainage for a few days. I started him on an antibiotic today. 5 day cycle. Timothy has been down with stomach problems. Maybe from the dog he ate a couple of days ago. I'm serious. He said it wasn't bad.

I almost tried to call her twice the other day.

She bought an antique needlepoint piece and was going to have it framed. She put it somewhere and Jane and I thought maybe she had already taken it to someone. As I was looking for it at the school, I thought, "I'll just call her and see where she put it."

That is happening less frequently now.

I shared with the staff Wednesday and played the slide show from Texas. Then I showed it to two classes. It was good to see it again. You're right, sad is not bad.

The boys and I laughed about some of her cooking foibles the other night at the dinner table. Then Wed night Timothy burned the chili. But not to fear, I learned how to skim less burnt smelling food off the top of the pan. I was trained well for 27 years.

I have been compiling some emails to friends and reworking them to send out. That's why so many are coming out so quickly. There should be another in a couple of days.

Kevin

Remembering a tough time November 15 2008

2009-03-17T06:32:00.000-07:00

November 15 2008

This is what was going on about the end of the first week in October.

And I apologize now for the way I may have been distant from some of you during this time in the process. I hope it makes sense and doesn’t hurt.

Oct 8

The youth worker/ teacher/ dad keeps it together in crisis. Always have. People have needed that. And it has come easily, just the way I was wired.

But the grieving husband has not. How do I put this?

Hmmm... Instead of leading and empowering others in crisis, I have drawn inward, letting others fend for themselves. That is so foreign. I never do that. I have chosen to not engage in conversation except with the people I exclusively want to. I have been gracious in trial in the past. Am I failing now? Is this acceptable and not merely "shrinking back"? I do not want to dishonor my father above or myself.

But it feels right.

Needed. Proper. Healthy.

People are grace-full and understanding. And patient and indulgent. I was a terrible guest at one house where we stayed. I avoided being with them. Almost, but not quite, involuntarily I chose to be away. Here they are providing us a place to stay while the boys and I visit Bethany, and I don't even have the decency to go and talk with them and say thank you.

I look at the guest register and don't want to be trite, but I have no real words to say. (I finally did say something. Yes, it was nice).

I feel selfish.

Selfish is another word I don't like to associate with. I am at times, and I know when I am, but at least I can usually hide it like good hypocrites do. I know that game. I wrote some of the rules. But I couldn't even fake it. I was just plain interested in me and my kids and no one else.

Part of the pain of that, is the whole position of shepherd. (here I go sounding vain; self-important)

A friend said he noticed at the reception after the memorial celebration that many times I was consoling more than I was receiving consolation.

I noticed that was happening too. After reflecting on that event, I discovered that shepherds shepherd. (My logic is amazing isn't it? And so deep. I wish there was a sarcasm font…)

Just because something happened primarily to me, doesn’t negate the fact it also happened to them.

They may have sat at the feet of the master teacher (me), but they also sat at the kitchen table of the High and Supreme Master Amateur Counselor (Ruth).

She impacted so many lives over graham crackers and milk. Many of my pupils have fallen away. Many of hers have fallen in love. (with you know who). Actually most of you do, come to think of it.

They felt loss and needed what I had offered in other times of loss in their lives. They didn't even know they were doing it, they just knew they were hurting, and they came to me. I am honored at their opinion of me in that situation, that I had something to offer. I didn't have much, but I sure still love them a ton. I hated to see them hurt.

At this last house, it was the first time there was no one there who needed me. They didn't know her. I didn't have to help them in their grief. It was freeing and it was just what I needed (that was the nice thing I wrote in their guest book), but I felt like a heel ignoring them.

I know, I know, it's ok to feel that way. And I agree, but the feelings of neglect remained.

I'm ok with it now. It WAS just what I needed.

What was happening mid-Nov November 16 2008

2009-03-17T06:31:00.000-07:00

November 16 2008

Just to let you all know what's going on now.

In the midst of all the journeyaling, just know that much healing and growth has happened. Like today was a really good day. Probably the best one

since we've been back. Of course sunshine, clear blue skies, gentle breeze and 68 degrees, eating KFC ice cream with friends, getting stared at like crazy by interested (interesting) people walking down the street can make days really good.

And a little mischievous fun yesterday was good too. I know you can't believe that I would be mischievous.

So as you read the past, know that the present is good. Not always easy, but good.

Tomorrow I teach full time for the first time since I've been back. They have had some amazing subs, but I will do my best.

Thanks for everything, all the encouragement, everything. Without that we wouldn't be where we are. Physically, emotionally, or spiritually.

Kevin

Remembering mercy in chaos November 21 2008

2009-03-17T06:28:00.000-07:00

November 21 2008

This message may seem out of place, or more appropriately, out of time, but it was written after some information came out of the day at Kunming International when I called and told the boys. The emotions of that day were still so raw, and these were reflections with just a couple of weeks of perspective to draw from.

Oct 10

It has been interesting to track where I have gone in the process so far. At first, I would begin to cry at the beginning of telling the story of the day she died. (That is still so strange to see in print, 'died'. It doesn't seem real at times, most times, then it does.) Even after I got used to telling it so many times, I still broke down mostly at the words "she was free".

I guess I should explain a bit. She was free from so many things, not least important, this world. No more stuck here, kept from gazing at one she loves more than me (and I am so glad she does).

She was free from pain, not just the current things she was recovering from, but from all the nagging things like the toes on the left foot that were stepped on by a horse 25 years ago; from the broken finger that never quite healed correctly; from the infrequent shoulder pain; from other things that came and went.

She was free from worry and all the little things that go into planning and orchestrating life each day. She was free from looking at her vitiligo and wishing she were different.

What's funny is I often didn't see the vitiligo. I saw her. The whole 'her', not just the skin or the hair. I wondered what little kids were talking about when they pointed out that her skin looked different in places. There were times I noticed, sure, but not that often.

She had a hard time believing that, but it's true. One other thing before I continue the free theme; I never took for granted how beautiful she was. She held her beauty in an amazing way. I was constantly thankful for that.

That does lead to the next freedom though.

She had a low self-image. It was not until just a few years ago that she would simply say "Thank you" when people would comment on her beauty.

She thought for 30 years they were just being nice and saying what they were supposed to say. Even me. Especially me.

I would tell her how beautiful she was (especially in the morning, with the hair going everywhere and no make-up, just beautiful her) and she would say I was just telling her that because I was supposed to.

The analogy I've used is there was an enormous chasm that I was trying to fill, one shovel full at a time. I was working as fast as I could, yet I never seemed to make any discernible progress. But eventually someone Else did make progress. And I'm so glad I got to see it happen toward the end.

But now she was free from that too.

When I would get past the crying at the 'she's free' part of the story, I couldn't make it past the image of Andrew scooping Wesley up in his arms and holding him like a baby when I called from Bangkok and told him about Ruth dying.

Still can't.

I was given a wonderful gift by a friend at KIA who so eloquently described the scene that day.

To know that Timothy was intimately involved as well is amazing too. He took turns with Andrew, holding Wesley, comforting him. He and Wesley haven't always been the closest. I see Timothy now in a warmer light because of the description of his tenderness.

Andrew loved Wesley before he was born. Andrew named him Matthew when he was in the womb. And was miffed when we named him Wesley instead. Andrew called Wesley "bubbafriend".

Andrew has done some amazing things with him too. Last week Timothy was looking for shoes and Andrew said, "Wesley, I already have shoes for me. Dad can stay with Timothy to get shoes. Where do You want to go?" And he let Wesley take him wherever in a huge mall with lots of cool stuff that16 year olds would love to look at.

They went to the toy store and Andrew bought Wesley a Star Wars figure. Well sort of, actually he bought it for himself, but when Wesley said something about how much he liked it, Andrew said he bought it for Wesley. Wesley was thrilled and never knew the sacrifice that had been made by his "bubbafriend".

Thanks to my friend, I will now cry even more when I tell that story. But that's a good thing.

The guidance counselor and other teachers made some great decisions that day. Wesley was at a middle school retreat and had to be brought back to the
school to hear the news. They had to find someone there who could bring him back to the school and yet not let onto what was going on.

The youth group leader, Kenny S., did a masterful job of that, bringing Wesley back to the school in a taxi.

My absolute biggest fear was that the boys would hear it from someone else.

Thankfully, gratefully, they didn't.

As much as I desperately wanted to be present with them and hold them and cry with them, I (I can't even find the words) absolutely could not bear the scene of them finding out from someone else first.

In all of my calls to the school from Bangkok, I could hear people in the background; my uncle LeRoy, cousin David, the member care representative Linda Zinn, the guidance counselor Michelle LaPorte.

Not being there, I never realized how much they did on a dark day for them too. Michelle recounted to me recently what happened that day. That was a difficult message to read, but good.
I feel like I was there.

After they heard from me, the two older boys were being comforted by friends and adults from the school.

At one point, Timothy was asked what he needed, and when he said he needed to just do something, they let him play soccer. Kept him from going crazy.

Andrew needed to sit with friends. They actually cancelled classes and focused on the needs of our boys. Lifting the boys up. Even gathering to worship and surround them with love.

Sometime after I had told Wesley and he and Andrew were together, the guidance counselor said something like, "Wesley I wish I had words, but I don't. What do you need?" She gave Wesley a hug and Andrew looked at Wesley and said, "We don't need her to say anything, we just need her to love us, right Wes?"

The way school staff, friends, and family faithfully handled that day with the boys was amazing. Through the worst day of my life, their care-full actions gave me so much reassurance.

And peace.

And hope.

Hope that members of the body can be trusted to care for the rest of the body in sacrificial ways. To show love the way others need to be loved, not just according to the preferences of the giver, but to meet them where they are and love them there.

To not. "need her to say anything, we just need her to love us, right Wes?"

The new me November 24 2008

2009-03-17T06:25:00.000-07:00

November 24 2008

As each day has passed, new revelations have appeared. Some funny, some sad, some scary. Here is the disclaimer. I am in a much better place than I was the second week in October.

I have struggled with what to include in this email. As for me, I don’t mind looking back on it, because I know where I am now. And where I am now is some different than where I was then. I keep beating around the bush. Some of the descriptions that follow may seem unfeeling, or hurtful. I’m experiencing feelings of sorrow and resignation, that what was going on in my head and heart was abnormal for me.

I was feeling;

Fragile. Incapable. Unable.

I choose to include these feelings and thoughts because maybe somebody has felt the same, but has been afraid to say it out loud.

So to many of my friends, I say, “I’m sorry.” I can’t believe I said, did, and thought some of what you will read. But, here it is.

Many of these are pulled from a series of days in early/mid October. Here is one.

At some point humor must re-emerge. As I come to a better wholeness about what has happened, is still happening, I will probably make a few more jokes about it. I don't ever want to come across as unfeeling or cold about the death of my wife. It has been so hard.

I have been startled at the depth and breadth of emotions and the mental arrhythmia plaguing me.

But humor is one of the ways I deal with being me and all the stuff I've been through. I will add here that of all those things I have endured, this has been the worst. I’m not naive enough to say it will be the last worst thing, but I just hope that another one doesn't happen for a while.

At least let me catch my breath.

I’ve heard it said humor brings healing…

So, to continue, I've told you about the being distractible part. Not keeping thoughts together, forgetting things.

My phone is so full of notes I think it's going to explode and I will be covered in cellular guts. I write down stuff that most mortals do instinctively; just so I don't forget,

Things like "breathe", and "blink".

OK it's not that bad, but it sure feels like it.

I was with Bethany one week in Arkansas. I was driving and I started looking for my phone. I looked on the seat in front of me (where I always keep it when I am driving, so I won't lose it),

I looked in my pocket (annoying for it to be in there when i am driving, I have to do a freaky 70's dance to get it out before it stops ringing).

I looked on the console, checked to see if it was on the charger. I looked on the seat in front of me, I looked in my pocket. (No, I did not forget that I already told you that part. I looked AGAIN). Although, yes at the time, not sure I had checked their yet.

Then it hit me. I lost my phone. That sinking feeling crept over me, like when you go to take the last bite of the banana split. The one you've been saving for the last bite. The perfect combination of banana and ice cream and nuts and chocolate, and the whipped cream you set aside for this moment.

And ... the cherry.

Then you drop it all gracefully on the floor.

THAT sinking feeling.

On my phone, I have over 500 pictures and 300 videos. Family pics, China pics, funny pics. Videos of family occasions, sports exploits of the boys, K’Leigh in concerts.

I have notes telling me what I need to do, what I need to think about, what things to bring back to people in China.

I have my currency converter. Yuan to Dollars to Baht, sheesh.

I have music (Crowder right now, healing in those lyrics). At one time I had 352 phone numbers. (I know way too many people).

I was disheartened.

I asked Bethany if she had seen it, thinking, she might have noticed it at her place.

She said, "It's on your lap."

There it was. Right thigh, right on top. Balanced safely, not going anywhere.

Wanting to convey to her my heartfelt thanks at her perspicacious discovery of an object so vital to me, I eloquently said,

"Oh."

Maybe this is the new me. I should be a ton of fun to be around. "Hey, let's go watch Kevin, this is hilarious!" (Just wait, he’ll intently listen to you for several seconds, then ask you to repeat what you said, because he couldn’t remember one SYLLABLE of what you just told him.)

Good thing is, I am laughing at me too. What a goof.

I hope most of you were eating or drinking something and you laughed so hard that now you have to go clean it up.

Thanks for laughing with me. (You weren't laughing AT me, were you?)

There have been many funny moments like that. Fortunately, I am remembering better these days. Or at least I realize I am forgetting something and can track it down. Like last week at the school when I knew there was something I was supposed to remember, and I searched for clues as to what it could be. After looking for friends on staff to talk to, I came to the conclusion that I was the only adult on the playground, or in the office, or in a classroom.

After running through the possibilities, I came to the conclusion that the weekly Friday meeting just might be meeting this day. How did I come to this amazing deduction? Well, it was Friday.

Then came the task of remembering where the weekly meeting met. Probably the same place it met each Friday of the year so far. Since my fickle friend Memory didn’t want to play along, I just looked in the northwest corner classroom on each floor. I decided to start on the ground floor instead of the 5th floor.

Because I was there, and at 6000 ft elevation, one doesn’t whimsically scale the steps to the top level.

The meeting was on the 4th floor.

I felt like I should have won a prize. Or at least a sucker.

Because I did it all by myself. Wrote that day down on the calendar. Just can’t find the calendar to show you.

Speaking of calendars. The days pass, but not in a regular sense of order. It seems like yesterday years ago. All at the same time. I am here, but I am also there, like a collage of mixed images, grouped by theme, not chronology. I laugh at things she did. Things she said. Things she hysterically laughed at. When she was 19, when she was 47, when she was 28.

During all this fall-fair grab bag of emotions, people asked how I was. Most of you really wanted to know and were patient and listened to my ramblings, disjointed as they were. Good description, out of joint. My heart and head felt that way, wrenched, tender, poor range of motion.

People can tell me all day that I was experiencing ‘normal’ feelings and thoughts during that time. That doesn’t change the regret I feel over hurting or ignoring true friends.

So when asked by one friend how I was, that day I responded,

“Weary.

Physically (my fault), and emotionally (not my fault).

Tired of telling the story of how she died, but people need to know and I am the one to tell it. But, it's like I feel dry, drier each time I tell it. It is becoming just facts and not feeling. Not good. When was the last time I cried?

It's strange how I miss different things each day. One day it's this, one day it's that. One of the recurring regrets is how 6 times I will have to walk down the aisle at a wedding. Alone.

That stinks.

She would have been a great grandmother. And a great great-grandmother.

That stinks too.

Even though I Can make chocolate chip cookies, and banana bread (better than she could), AMAZING creations with ice cream and grapes and golden grahams, and one mean bowl of cereal.

And that, my friends, covers the four major important food groups; chocolate, cereal, ice cream, and fiber.

I can still play the part of the indulgent grandfather sneaking chips ahoy and milk in the fort.

But my foil will not be there to bring balance like before.”

Later that week, things went from weary to worse.

Some of ‘the dark days’ emerged. These are so painful for me to write about because I don’t want to hurt people I have been so intimately tied to for years.

There were two days where I did not want to talk to or see anyone.

These are quotes from another email to a friend.

“Avoidance procedures. Taking evasive action.

Going to a big meeting one morning was fine. But, individual discussions have been a drag.

Of all the people we know, there are two families who are the closest. Their kids are like cousins to ours. We get together twice a year for a weekend. As the kids have grown older (there are 12 kids between us), we have spent hours talking together. On our knees talking. It has been the safest, most supportive set of relationships we have ever had.

My avoidance allergy has included them as well. All I could think was, 'please get off the phone'. I have never felt like that before. The other one emailed me after her interview on the Today Show and I haven't emailed her back. Don't even know why, I just haven't. Maybe I'm just relationally drained. I am looking for answers. Not necessarily from you, but from somewhere. If you have any insight, feel free.

I know I did this with the people who were not as close to us, but not with the closest people. It's really weird.

And I know I'm doing it. That's what makes it weirder. But I just can't be that to them right now.

And there I go again. "I can't". That phrase has almost never defined me before.

ouch.”

There it is.

Ugly.

I’m not asking permission to feel that way during that time, I just want to continue the openness and reality of what has gone on. I know it’s not uncommon to what others have felt. That doesn’t change the sorrow over directing that to my closest friends and family. And things are brighter than before.

Please remember that Hope and Healing have booked rooms now. Their stay has been refreshing, renewing. And the prospects of them moving in permanently look promising.

‘Dark’ days have given way to ‘dim’ days. And ‘good’ days have given way to ‘great’ days.

The weather here is certainly improving.

Kevin

Mountains to climb December 4 2008

2009-03-17T06:24:00.000-07:00

December 4 2008

Here is a follow up. This was from about the Ides of October.

Remember the day I wrote about regarding fear? When I got the confirmation from Compassion International about our visit with Tine? I wanted to be in a dark corner. And don't find me. That was a bad day.

There have been better days since then...

I knew before it happened that the summit of Guadalupe Peak would do something to us. I was hoping it would be a changing event for Wesley. I think it will be a milestone for him. When he thinks he can't do something I will remind him that he summited the highest point in Texas. There are only 13 states with higher peaks. And there are not that many 11 year olds who can make that claim.

Guadalupe Peak is located in far west Texas, about 150 miles from El Paso. It is so remote that we actually stayed in Carlsbad New Mexico the night before we climbed it. The summit is 8749 ft. Now, I have slept and skied at higher elevations, but for Texas, that’s still a pretty good ascent.

We hiked up 3000 vertical feet in about 4 miles. We left at noon, and returned at around 6:30.

This was part of an extended weekend trek for the 7 of us. And, it was a trip none of the kids nor Ruth had ever been on. In 5 days we hiked in the Davis Mountains, attended a Star Party at McDonald Observatory, rafted the Santa Elena Canyon on the Rio Grande, ate lunch in Mexico, swam in a natural spring pool in Balmhorea, surfed down sand dunes in Monahans, and climbed Guadalupe Peak. Whew.

No cell phones. No email. No electronics. Just us.

The purpose was to discover what 7 Shoreys looked like. It's different. And it's good.

K'Leigh and Jonathan had to go back to college before the Guadalupe Peak day, but the other boys and Bethany and I made the trek.

It was a great day in many ways. It was tougher than I thought it would be, but we were prepared. And Wesley was the tallest person in Texas. (I made the other brothers squat down for a second.) And he did accomplish something that later he said gave him more confidence. Not so many things seem insurmountable to him now.

But another byproduct from that day is that I too am ready to tackle tasks that seemed daunting those first weeks in October. It was drudgery to me to have to get ready all over again to go overseas. I felt like I had just done that 3 months ago. Packing, luggage, last minute details. Just that the second time, the details were related to producing more death certificates to more people.

Here is a snippet from a conversation around that time.

"There is not enough time, nor is there enough of me. But there has to be. It will get done.

Not sure how I will be when it is done, but it will get done.

I am weary and there are so many people who want a part of me. I just hope there is some left when I get back."

Back to the mountain. It is part accomplishment, part perspective, part pride (I love Texas in case you didn't know), part settledness.

I am different after that trek. I am still figuring out how I am changed.

I will let you know as more of that is revealed. But I know I can't be the same after looking Down on other mountain peaks, realizing I was, for a moment, the tallest person in Texas.

And then, I realize am so small. I am an ant, and yet someone died for an ant.

Totally weird to me.

In size insignificant, in relationship immensely significant.

I can't quite wrap my mind around what happened, but it will be fun to find out.

Off the mountain December 5 2008

2009-03-17T06:23:00.000-07:00

December 5 2008

(This section was written a few days after the trip to West Texas, about a week before we came back to China.)

I knew before we hiked up the mountain that we would be different when we came down. Not immediately maybe, but some time we would see some lessons learned.

For me, Resolve came back.

Remember when he 'set his face' toward Jerusalem?

I feel like I Can get some things done.

I can face the daunting questions of 6th graders.

I can be a dad to 3 boys in China.

I can maybe even lead worship again and not be afraid of not being able to make it through a song.

I can face some other things back home in Kunming.

It won't be easy. I will need help (I can't believe I just wrote that). Asking for help is so foreign. I am the helper. I am the strong one. Not any more.

I will have bad days. But just like I stood in that driveway when Ruth and I were dating and she said,” Go away and Never come back." And I replied to a turned back that never heard me say it, “I will love you no matter what, even if we are not together.” That was a day I stood by commitment. I feel like I can stand now and say, “I choose to stand.” Maybe not even move forward much, but at least just stand.

I was physically exhausted after that mountain trip. I have never had anything sap me like that before. Even the 150 mile bike ride in 2 days didn’t leave me feeling anywhere near like the trip up and back down the mountain made me feel.

In a similar way, nothing has ever left me reeling like losing Ruth.

I am less strong than I thought.

My mind even failed me when I thought I was mentally tough. I'm not saying those are necessarily bad revelations, but they are sobering and humbling.

I have to rely on him and other people. Completely.

I am poorly describing how passionately I am feeling these things for the first time. It is new ground to be treading. And there is no map.

I guess from all the crap I endured as a kid and teenager, I thought I would never be thrown like this. I have always managed well in times of chaos and pain.

Not this time. Wow.

The mountain showed me there was hope to return to that part of me that could at least function again. I did it. We did it. A milestone, like I said about Wesley.

There will be other victories. And other struggles.

But now I really see that people don't expect me to be superman. I can have kryptonite moments and Lois and Jimmy can come to the rescue.

Or more appropriately, I am Jimmy Olson and Clark and Lois pick up my pocket protector and flash bulbs when I trip on the trash can again.

Except this was the big gynormous trash dumpster and I felt crushed under it. Thankfully Curt and David and Emma and Jeff and Esther and Michelle picked it up off me, so now at least I can breathe again.

Thanks guys.

Remembering dark days December 9 2008

2009-03-17T06:22:00.000-07:00

December 9 2008

The following is tough to send out. It may be offensive to some people. It is from a dark time just before we went back to China. There were some things that happened in the few days after this day that reminded me how many people showed us love and mercy and compassion in ways I didn’t see at the time.

October 25

Today has been a bad day. Yesterday too. Feeling very flat and cynical and worn. Selfish, impatient, some other negative feeling I cant' find a moniker for. And knowing it's part of the package doesn't make it suck any less.

Tomorrow we go to Dallas, Monday we fly out. I've been looking forward to this day for a while, but now all I see is packing, and driving, and people who need to see me more than I need to see them. Just let me go to Olive Connexion in the mountains near Kunming and sit. Quiet. With no one to attempt to console me.

There it is. Emotional vomit.

Anybody seen the paper towels?

Lots of people care. I have received over 400 emails in addition to the hundreds of cards and gifts.

Tomorrow will be better. Many things on my lists will be completed. Maybe I can sleep on the plane this time.

December 15 2008

2009-03-17T06:21:00.001-07:00

December 15 2008

Current News Dec 15.

Another break from the trek through our return to China.

Tonight we are putting up the Christmas Tree. And listening to Handel’s Messiah. And we are putting on blue and white disco lights. Wait, we are not putting them on to wear, that would be weird. Not out of the realm of possibility, but weird nonetheless. We are putting the lights on the tree.

The kids in Texas are bringing some ornaments with them when they come to Kunming on the 22nd. We have the stockings here with us and the Christmas table runner and matching wall quilt (the one with the cross stitch Christmas Bears center).

I am getting some more ornaments from Hearts and Hands. The deaf organization my aunt Jane works with. They have a website http://www.heartsandhandschina.com/index.htm Really cool stuff that benefits a great group of people.

Ruth ordered a dining room table and 10 chairs from them. I got to pay for it. Man, some things never change.

It will fit all of us for Christmas and for other family coming over too. It will even fit all my friends who come to visit us in China as well. (hint, hint)

The boys were part of a youth group fund raiser last night. They served a spaghetti dinner and provided entertainment as well. About 80 parents showed up. The youth directors said they get to serve with the best kids in the world, and I said to a friend, “That statement might actually be true.” Amazing kids from all over the place, serving together in Kunming. And my kids get to be a part of it.

We had a good time tonight. Different, but good. And we are so excited about Bethany and K’Leigh, and Jonathan coming over next week. And Henry, Bethany’s beau, is coming Dec. 29. For three of them it is their first time to have a passport, much less travel out of the country. Bethany has been to Germany before.

There are so many things we want them to see. Like traffic. It’s crazy. And so ‘foreign’ to us. And chaotic. And really really fun. Nobody gets hit. That’s the only rule. Seriously. I love it. Two descriptions can make it clearer. It’s like water flowing in a stream. When it comes to an obstacle it just flows around it. And, it’s like playing Frogger. You should try it sometime.

I was right about those 6th graders. Lots of healing flowing through them. They don’t know not to ask questions adults are afraid of. So I get to talk about real stuff. And they listen and ask more questions and accept answers and feel sad and listen and care and then ask if we have homework in Math. I am so lucky to get to hang out with them for hours each day. I learn a lot!

Oh, by the way, today in social studies, we were studying travel in ancient Greece and comparing it to today. So I had my 30 students tell all the places they had visited. Here is a short list. Ankara, Bangkok, Buenos Aires, Beijing, Tokyo, New Orleans, London, Paris, Cairo, Singapore, Mumbai, Islamabad, Rio, Malaysia, Brussels, Jerusalem, Auckland, Manila, Edinburgh, Berlin, Seoul, Chiang Mai, Dali, Rome, and about 35 more many of which I cannot spell.

Oh my.

This is a great place to be. The boys are beginning relationships with people from all over the world. Tonight, we were talking to people on the computers and cell phone. We were carrying on conversations with people in Indonesia, China, the US, Bolivia, and Denmark. This is crazy to me. Yesterday I heard a guy from Central America speaking in a second language to people from Scandinavia listening in a second language and we are doing this in China. Overloading cross-cultural experiences like this happen all the time.

Plus we are feeling at home again. Settled. Comfortable. And loved.

People have been serving meals for weeks now. It is overwhelming. I have written more thank you cards in the last two weeks than I have in two decades. And someone let out the information about me and chocolate. That someone deserves a hug.

4 days until Christmas break. Then two weeks of school before another two week break for Chinese New Year. During that break Wesley is going with the Boy Scout Troup skiing about 4 hours north of here. Not much snow in Kunming, we run temps about 40 in the morning to 60 in the afternoon. Not much rain, and ample sunshine. No humidity. Same thing every day. Could get boring if I let it. (Ok, I admit it, I am mocking you). The weather is unbelievable.

Timothy played drums for youth group Friday. Andrew played bass at school Thursday. I played guitar with the 6th grade girls’ band on Tuesday. (The pianist was incredible.) Our whole family will be leading the service Jan 4. It’s been a great time for all that too.

And all of us are doing well in the most important relationship we have. It has been really really good. Thanks for thinking about us. It makes a huge difference. You have been used. In a good way. Please keep it up.

Some things to think about. Last week was three months. December 22nd is our anniversary. Would have been 24 years. December 24th is Bethany’s birthday. First family birthday celebrated without Ruth. First Christmas too. And not to be left out, December 23rd will be tough for me. Because I was working so many Christmas Eve’s and some Christmas days. And our anniversary was tough to really celebrate well at that time of year, for some reason, for many years now, December 23rd was one of the sweetest days of the year for Ruth and me.

We spent so many of them together, sometimes shopping for the kids, sometimes shopping for each other, most times eating out in a quiet place, driving around town, talking for hours. Lots of holding hands, gentle touches on the arm that said no more than, “I’m here. With you.”

Just BEing. Together.

That’s what I’m afraid will hurt the most. The being with. Or more accurately, the not being with.

Well, that and the holding hands.

But there is grace. More than I could ever imagine. The kids will be here. And some of our family will be together for the first time in nearly 10 years. Aunt and uncle and cousins and all of us. It’s going to be grand! And hilarious memories from Christmas’s past. And more hilarity from this year too, I’m sure. Hey, you’ve seen us around each other, it’s always a party waiting to happen.

So, you can cry for us. We will too. But please laugh for us as well. We serve a good guy. And he is doing amazing things in and with and through us all. And I know for sure that being with is what he’s all about.

Kevin

Smells like home December 16 2008

2009-03-17T06:19:00.000-07:00

December 16 2008

Email to a friend in India

Knowing how things go living here, I am not upset about the lack of response. "Things take longer in ________." Fill in the blank, China; India.

So it's tough to get around to everything.

One thing that has struck me is how much living goes on here in comparison with back in the states.

What I mean is, it's like at camp. We do so much in a week that when we get home it seems like we were gone two weeks instead of one.

I have only been back in China for 46 days. but it feels like 6 months. It's really strange. In a good way. We felt so at home here (and not as much at home in Texas) that coming back was a relief.

I still love Texas and it was great to be there, but this is just the place to be. As Andrew said the first night we were back in Texas, and we were talking about whether we were coming back to China or not, "We just fit."

We do so much. In fact one day in August when we had been here about two weeks, I got lost on my bike. (I love it when that happens. I find so many new places.)

I was about a mile from our house (I found out later) and I said in my head, "Smells like home."

Then I analyzed that statement. Why did I use the exact word 'home'? There were other words. But I realized this had become home in just over a fortnight. Unbelievable.

I know you have had similar feelings. I would love to talk about them with you sometime.

I had Indian food for the first time last week. Some of it was very good. Maybe if ticket prices droop, you could order for us and show us the really good stuff.

I have a kid in my class who was born in India. That is one of the coolest things. Having kids from cities other than the exotic places like Gladewater and Winona and Gilmer.

More later. Buying Christmas ornaments from Hearts and Hands today.

Kevin

Losses and gains part 1 December 17 2008

2009-03-17T06:17:00.000-07:00

December 17 2008

The strangest phrase through this whole thing has been, "I'm sorry for your loss." What does that mean?

Even I have said "I lost my wife." I lose keys, I lose kids in Walmart, I lose hats and knives and books and track of things. But “I lost my wife” sounds like I left her somewhere and I can't find her.

I don’t know if this makes any sense at all, but I am taken aback when I hear that. Maybe I am way too literal.

There is loss. Layers of it. I’ve tried to make a list, or a stack of notes, or just feelings that can't be categorized, but it is in no way comprehensive.

I have mentioned before some of the things we have lost. But I've never really put down in one place what they were.

This is in no semblance of order of importance.

I lost a friend. She was always my wife, and that is a huge loss too, but my friend and I became so close the last few years. I used to call Jimmy, or Jeff, or Andy, or Tim, or Jesse, or Chase and tell them the newest, funniest thing I had heard or seen or done.

For a while now, Ruth was the one I called. We did things together, we liked the same movies (except for Gone With the Wind, yuck). We liked kids and reading and dogs and studying and birthdays and Christmas and holding hands and kissing. We liked that a lot. Used to embarrass the kids. That was fun too.

There were practical reasons for the things we mutually liked, as well as romantic reasons. See, when I was in college, I made a list of 17 things I wanted in a wife. Not like a shopping list, but like a wish list for Santa. I have tried to find it or recreate it, and I may finally be close to remembering. Here goes. I'll warn you, it's uncanny.

Please remember this was written by an 18 year old. The list would be somewhat different now. Some things were shallow, some were wise, some were just funny.

1 Growing Christian Actively Pursuing God

2 Intelligent

3 Has a Good Sense of Humor

4 Likes to Read

5 Likes to Sing

6 Likes Classical Music

7 Likes Music

8 Someone I could take out in public, not Miss America, just presentable

9 Likes Kids

10 Likes dogs

11 Likes to play basketball

12 Cares about people

13 Blond hair

14 blue eyes

15 Someone independent, not helpless

16 Someone who likes to go places

17 Someone who can cook

For those of you keeping score at home, that's 14 out of 17. And the three I didn't get were numbers 11, 13 and 14. (Being Chinese, blond hair and blue eyes was Not going to happen.)

Number 1 was there for a reason. I couldn't imagine living with someone who was not going the same way as me. That was a non-negotiable. I think she met that, or else those 4:45 a.m. studies she did each morning were a really good cover.

Number 2. Mr smarty pants (me) thought he was all that, with his great ACT scores. 95th percentile. And then she blows me out of the water. So totally unfair.

Number 3. She loved to laugh. And I loved making her laugh. (I was good at it.)

Number 4. Did you ever see her without a book?

5,6,7 She was in a select Chamber singers group in college. Not bad for a girl who couldn't read music. We were really pretty good together.

OK Number 8. Instead of presentable. I got "I need some oxygen. I can't breathe because you take my breathe away GORGEOUS!" I think God is still laughing about that one.

Number 9. Likes kids??!! Like a fish likes water.

Number 10 We had 14 dogs at one time. Then we began collecting kids instead. Fortunately the more kids, the less dogs.

Number 11. hahahahahahaha (actually the sport she got into the most was, you're not gonna believe this, Weightlifting. She LOVED it.)

Number 12 Uh, yeah. Number 13, 14 See note about Asian descent.

Number 15 She didn't Need me, which made it so cool when she Chose me.

Number 16 That was something fun we did a lot.

Number 17 Not at first, but later she was amazing! (funny stories about early forays into the culinary arts)

I would tell the story to almost everyone who would listen about the list. It was unbelievable, truly, that all those things were wrapped up into one woman. When people said I married up, I whole-heartedly agreed. So much more than I could imagine or think...

You can see why friendship was so sweet. We had so many common interests and values.

I'm not saying it would have been easier to 'lose' her if we hadn't been so close, in fact it may have been harder to live with regret and remorse over missed relationship opportunities. But it makes it so hard now to know what I am missing.

Another thing I was able to put a finger on recently about why it hurts so bad is that we were all looking forward to having her healthy again. Able to be active and go places with us. Hiking in the Western Hills down the road from our place. Being able to wrestle with the boys like she used to. Riding a bike again. Heck, even going to the gym and lifting again. (Ok, I'm sorry but that still freaks me out about the weightlifting thing. It was so fun for her. Weird.)

It wasn't just not having her with us, it was the loss of the almost guaranteed potential of her returning health. It makes it that much worse. Like being promised a batch of cookies, then finding out you are diabetic.

The kids lost a mom. In every sense. Both for now and for all the future happenings where she should be present. Being a grandmother. Making cookies. And more quilts. (we even did that together. Don't tell anyone. I don't want to lose my man card).

Birthdays, Christmas, graduations, Easter books, Sunday dinner when everyone was home.

Weddings.

That one scares me every time I think about it. How do I hold it together and not steal the show at each wedding. 6 times I have to give them away without her. Not fair. Not right. I feel so sad. She talked for years about how she was going to do everything she could to make the girls' weddings everything they wanted them to be. She had even opened an account to try to put some money away now for when those days would arrive. It was going to be hard enough to give my girls to another man, but now...

Someone recently asked me what superpower I would like to possess. Having actually thought about that before, I came up with ‘invincibility’. Able to survive being hit by a car, a train, a planet and still be unscathed. Then I thought, no, maybe invisibility would be better. Something with an Achilles heel, more believable, something people could relate to better.

Then it hit me. My superhero power was being married. The talisman was the ring. But the power came from the assurance and settledness, the anchor of a relationship, a committed relationship. I had a home base to fly from, to draw strength from; Knowing there will be a place to go home to.

Base. Like the safe place when we're playing tag in the schoolyard.

No matter the enemy, the misplaced criticism, the faults and heroic flaws, base is the one place where acceptance, forgiveness, love, friendship, safety are found.

But, now the crystal hall is shattered, the bat cave is destroyed and buried, the school for 'gifted' children is no more. No base. Just running. Trying not to be tagged. No place to rest secure in. No home to be safe in. Just a house.

Enemies pursuing. Only remaining uncaught by His grace. But not untouched. Wounded. Healing does come, but no place to recover. On the move.

Is there a fort instead? A place where I can be safe because of the camaraderie, a 'going with' with other superheroes, watching each other's backs? Or a series of temporary safe houses? People who hide me until I can go out again.

How can One be so much? It takes so many to replace her. Not replace, but to fill all those roles.

It's not to fly, or be indestructible, invisible, or simply amazing. Without the base I am a lonely hero. Without a place. A safe haven.Immortal still, but free only in a limitless purgatory.

There is a better home. And even though we are empowered to be super, we are not home yet. CS Lewis said we are constantly in the presence of immortals. Where we live forever is determined in our relationship. But we all live forever. Once we become empowered, we can never be free from the responsibility, obligation, or gratitude of being made super.

I have lost the balance we had as a couple raising kids. If I mess up now, it's all because I only have one perspective.

I have lost an object to love. Someone to pour into. I never think I was perfect at it, far from it, but I had gotten so much better. It's like an Olympian who trains for 3 years and then is told their event is cancelled. Prepared to compete, yet now no arena.

So if I am the one who 'lost' her, why am I the one who feels lost? It's like she lost me. And went somewhere I can't find. I know where she is, but I can't get there right now.

So when people say, "I'm sorry for your loss.", I hear the pain they are feeling as well. I know they wish it were different. And in their graceful, caring way their grace and care has made me feel a little less lost. I have found some safe houses to rest in. Some safe people to rest with. Some close friends to ‘go with’.

What treasures she left us! December 23 2008

2009-03-17T06:15:00.001-07:00

December 23 2008

'Loss' will not ever completely leave. People always wonder what it would be like if that pet had never died, or that car had never been sold, or that house still belonged in the family.

But look at what we have. Ruth left us a treasure chest. Amazing wealth that can't be taken. Or lost.

Three days ago, we put up a tree in the living room. And we hung stockings on the wall.

And hung a Christmas quilt (with matching table runner).

She is sewn into the fabric of Christmas. And what a beautiful life tapestry.

6 stockings.

6 works of art, labors of love, for 6 children she adored.

6 unique designs, like the kids themselves.

I used to try to read with her. The same book at the same time. It was cute until she was ready to turn the page and I was still reading the chapter title. It was ludicrous. She read so fast. That love of reading is one of her gifts.

She read to them all the time. Even before they were born. She would sit with a book in front of her cute little tummy (ok big tummy) and read books to them. I don't know what it was that got to them, but something did. Just hearing her lilting voice as she paid attention to them, her nurturing tones embracing them in the womb. It was amazing to behold.

It was a precursor to vivid scenes in labor rooms. When they were born, she held them and gazed into their little faces. And she loved them. Not a passive gentle caress and embrace, but a wild, breathtaking, vibrant intensity of other-centeredness. She was inexorably lost in the passion and tenderness of their first moments. Right then, no one else existed. It was as if even she wasn't there, she was so totally lost in them. And I witnessed that magical transformation. Every time. She transformed instantly from weary and expectant to ardently in love. Speaking life to them. Singing softly. Comforting. Enfolding them. No wonder they were so close to her.

That tenderness continued. And the reading. She read to them as infants, and as toddlers. When they could hold a book, she would read to them from her copy and let them follow along with theirs. Then she would teach them to read along some as well. If you have ever heard the kids read out loud, you can tell. So expressive, interesting. Characters came alive and jumped off the pages into their imaginations. What a gift to pass on.

She was really into birthdays. Pick your own meal. (Usually chicken fried chicken, mashed potatoes, cream gravy, some vegetable of choice, and artichokes. With cake and Blue Bell Ice Cream.) And a meaningful gift.

Speaking of gifts, she would begin collecting them for Christmas months ahead of time. And then she and I would stay up late and put gifts out. Then we would go to bed and let Santa do the rest. The rule was, no one got to go into the living room until we had all gathered on the bed after 7 a.m. Strict rule, never to be broken, or you gave up your presents to your siblings. They love each other, but there is a line...

Almost every night in December, we sang. The kids learned so many songs. And we lit candles, and tried to keep Timothy from setting things on fire. Like his hair, or the curtains, or the fish tank, or a sister.

Easter was a gift giving time too for her. Each year, everyone got a book. Many years it was a 'princess' series book for the girls. Good choice for two princesses.

That was another thing she did. She taught the girls to be beautiful. Bows and dresses and ribbons in tresses. And helping them grow beautiful on the inside too. I wrote down a quote from a speaker recently " I am the interior decorator of your mind and I am hanging beautiful tapestries on the walls of your life". That's what she did. Beauty came from inside and spilled out of her. Our girls are beauties as well. If you've seen them, you know. And as you spend time with them, they appear even more beautiful. Ruth also sewed faith into the girls as well. Much was 'caught' from her, watching and emulating her life. I am thankful for such an example.

The boys now know what qualities to look for in a wife. They had a good model. They know the values I expect for them to look for. Their list will be different than mine, but I am guessing there will be quite a few similarities. Godly, intelligent, other-focused, with some other really interesting qualities they desire.

She and God worked hard. I was one of their biggest projects. And one of the orneriest. There are so many things I didn't know before, that I do know now.

I know what benefit comes from perseverance. I proposed on three different occasions. She was definitely worth it. (I let her keep the ring the first time. Well, I didn't need it. And it was one less thing to worry about the next two times.

I know that a marriage can be salvaged and renewed because of a forgiving wife who chooses to make it work in spite of a selfish husband who hurts and neglects her.

I now have an appreciation for counseling. I was proud and ignorant and thought I didn't need it since I counseled so many other people. I was wrong. It was a major part of not only saving, but recreating our marriage. The last three years were the best of my life. Those of you who have known me for many years and know where I came from can honestly attest that is a true statement. Not just romantic hyperbole.

I know that a man can feel like he can face whatever is thrown at him when a woman who loves him stands with him. And that when she is displeased with him that "the sun appeared dark in my eyes".

I know that gift giving touchy people can make it work with affirming servants when we become bilingual and speak each other's love languages.

I know that INTP and ESFJ can in fact make a great match. I think so anyway, and that's the way she felt.

She taught me how to say, "I'm sorry." She told me how, and she showed me how.

I know the kids learned about conflict and forgiveness, and making out, I mean making up.

I learned how to harmonize

I know that 'winters' do not generally look good in earth tones, rather they look great in vibrant colors; reds, kelly greens, bright yellows, off-setting black and navy and charcoal.

She taught me several other things, too.

I can sew.

I can french braid hair. The girls helped me too, at least they let me practice. Sorry girls.

I learned how to include people.

I learned how to read 14 page love letters in one sitting. I still have those from 1982-1984.

I know how to defend myself when being attacked with razor sharp nails in a tickle-fight. Kory did not, and has the scars to prove it.

I learned that I can't stand Gone With The Wind, mushrooms, and detailed stories about The Titanic.

I can carry on a conversation in sign language.

I have new ability in wood working and painting and plumbing. Sometimes her tastes were a bit more extravagant than our bank account. I became good at those out of necessity.

We all learned how to deal courageously with pain.

And we all have gifts of quilts and stockings and wall hangings and even a couple of paintings that we will treasure.

She also taught us how to eat new foods. If not for that, I would be skinnier now.

And of course we have Hilarious stories.

Eggs, Beans, Cow Bayou, It sure is grey out here, Falling asleep on trips, San Antonio

Did you know boiled eggs explode if you cook them long enough without water? I didn't either until we got married. I have pictures.

If four people salt beans because the last batch was too bland, and Ruth gets to be the last one and puts in a double portion, you can use said beans to cure 4 cows.

When she woke up on trips, wait, let me back up. She honestly fell asleep several times on long trips before we got to the city limit sign leaving town. not kidding. And you wonder why I talk to myself.

But when she woke up on trips, she said the strangest things. Once she woke up and read the sign for the river crossing and said Cow Bay Ow. Even someone not from Louisiana should be able to read that.

Then on the bus from Boston to Old Orchard Beach Maine, she woke up on a clear sunshiny day and said, "It sure is grey out there." There was a large truck next to the bus. With the sun shining on it. Yeah.

Then there was the time I had two friends whisk her out of the house and take her to the airport. They were dressed like secret servicemen. Business suits. Aviator sunglasses. Talking into their watches. One of them carrying a silver case handcuffed to his wrist. They put her on a plane to San Antonio. People in the airport thought she was somebody famous, and they kept saying things like "Is that?" "I've seen her before, she was on that show, you know, the one..."

She arrived and I was waiting for her with an ENORMOUS paper mache' flower. And a look of trepidation. Would she think this was funny. She didn't really like surprises. It could be a really really long drive back to Dallas if I had screwed up. Of course I thought about all these things after she had taken off. Oops.

It was a great day. A gift. We went to several Spanish missions. The riverwalk. Stopped at a Sara Lee bakery and proceeded to eat pound cake for the next four hours. We talked and listened and held hands and smiled a lot. She was gracious and funny, I was giddily content. We were 'us' at our best.

So, through her we gained so much.

And referring back to number one on the list of qualities I was looking for in a wife, since she was diligently searching, following hard after Him, I am closer to my Father because of her.

Thank you honey.

Five days of Christmas December 22-26

2009-03-17T06:14:00.000-07:00

December 27 2008

A lot happened last week. Here is part one of how that time went. Thank you to all who were thinking about us during these days.

Five Days. December 22nd - December 26th.

Five significant days.

One of the bookend days is our anniversary. December 22, 1984. 6:30 p.m. Me in a black tux. Man, I look good in a tux. Her in a perfect wedding dress. Perfect because she both made it and looked fantastic in it. It was so her. Elegant. Simple. Breathtaking.

This would have been 24 years. I think I knew that I didn't know what a life-long marriage would be, but I thought I was prepared to find out. Not that I was really prepared though. But how can we be? There are so many components that go into making marriage work. Oh, and it was work. Neither of us came into it with the best examples of commitment on either side of the family. And we each brought our own individual baggage to the terminal. Terminal. One word that both of us chose to avoid with our marriage. We were determined to break the cycle of divorce in our families. My parents, her parents, many other family members. Divorce was rampant (overused word, but precise).

A few words stand out to me in that last paragraph: Chose. Commitment. Determined. Work. Notice the missing phrases, 'felt so in love', 'so many things in common', 'for the kids'.

What led to all the work? A series of stupid mindsets and selfish choices on my part and some unforgiveness and unrealistic expectations on hers led us to counseling. With not much hope. Commitment to at least stay together, but with maybe a relationship more akin to “married singles” to borrow a phrase. How's that for a rosy future?

After a decade of counseling, (I told you it was work) we had come to a new relationship. A couple of years after that and we had fallen into good patterns, had become accustomed to making wiser choices and doling out forgiveness freely. Not perfect. But so completely different than what we had before, that I have never been able to adequately describe how transformationally new it was. Even that still inadequately describes it.

What we had worked the relationship into, was the relationship people saw for the last three years. And it was just as good as it looked. Often people act like things are fine in front of other people, not just for our pride, but to save others from some uncomfortable situations too. We had done that way too much for way too many years.

Our relationship recently was not perfect. We were still out of sorts with each other at times. Just that now I made more selfless choices and she forgave so quickly. I'm not saying we had arrived as the epitome of the model couple.

But it was great.. The best three years of my life.

So on our anniversary, which had the potential to be the hardest of the days, I had a great day. Of course, part of that was because of the preparations being made for the kids to arrive from the states. But it wasn't just that. Remembering that day in Paris, TX brought some great feelings with the memories, not much sadness. Joy at what happened the day we got married.

In fact some days are magical.

I got out of the bus at the downtown square at exactly 7 p.m. It is one of my favorite places in Kunming, some of my favorite China memories have happened there, like when during the Olympics in August, I stood in the midst of 3000 people in my current country and celebrated when the Chinese weightlifter won the gold medal. 24 years ago, it was almost exactly at 7:00 when she said "I Do". So in Kunming last week, at that moment, I was standing there, experiencing the sounds, the lights, the crisp air, the memories. And it was peace-filled, quiet, deep-current joy. Silent smiles. Breathing in the moments. Not hard at all. Far from it.

Then the kids arrived that night.

Later when everyone had gone to bed, I had hot chocolate nestling in my belly, and that cool, little kid sleepy setting in. All six kids together again. Hugs and laughter and quiet giddiness. (How's that for an oxymoron?) No tears, and that's ok too.

It made for a glorious day.

Pensive December 23 2008

2009-03-17T06:13:00.000-07:00

December 23rd.

I have said before that this was the special day Ruth and I got to spend together through the years. I just have feelings of contentment when I think of that day and what it meant each year.

On this 23rd, I was doing many of the same things, just without her. I spent time shopping with the kids that day, and some time alone. Alone can be good. Lonely is not. This was good. A bit more melancholy than the day before. A quieter day. Pensive, maybe. But not really sad per se.

Christmas Eve and Bethany's birthday

2009-03-17T06:09:00.000-07:00

December 24th.

This was the first birthday we celebrated without Ruth. Won't happen again until April. But it was also the first birthday celebrated in China. So many things were tempered by being here and being with extended family for all these celebrations.

I made our traditional birthday dinner (with a little help).. K'Leigh still breaded the chicken, like she had with Ruth. I let Jane make the mashed potatoes, and Marianne made the cake and the vegetables. But I cooked the chicken fried chicken and the gravy. I will say that my first attempt at gravy beat the pants off Ruth's first attempt.

Hers had to be sliced with a knife and laid on top of the chicken fried steak. Kind of like dinner jello, just thicker. The day I ate that.... that.... ummm, stuff, I honestly made that smile that says, "this is great, honey" all the time wondering if I was going to keep it down. It didn't taste so bad, but the consistency was...well...interesting.

The following was from something I wrote down about that evening.

“I am sitting here listening to Sara Groves. Putting some things in stockings. Now I am missing her. Man, those were precious times. Anticipating their excitement in the morning. Knowing things they didn't. Kids always figure some things out. And then we knew there were some that would blow them away. That was so much fun. And watching movies while we were building a bicycle, dressing the dolls in dresses and capes, setting up playsets, and hotwheels tracks. Trying to slip things into each other's stockings without the other one seeing. Succeeding most of the time. Snuggling and wrapping and taping and stuffing gift bags.

And each year it was different gifts, but always fun to think about what they would say the next morning. Whether it was a prosperous year or a year where most of the gifts came from Goodwill, it didn't matter. It was still Christmas morning.

We'll see how tomorrow goes. Usually it starts with everyone on the bed with us. Which was great when they were small and there were lass of them and we had a king sized bed. But last year when we had two that were over 6' tall and 7 of us topped the 100lb mark, and we had a smaller bed. It didn't break, but it sounded kind of different when you laid down after that day.

Then it was into the living room. Stockings first. Oohs and Aahs and nuts and an orange and an apple and hotwheels cars for everyone. And other fun gifts for everyone.

Then it was an orderly (for the most part) dispersal of gifts. I hand out each gift from under the tree, trying to keep everyone fairly even so they are kept busy while making sure that one kid doesn't just sit there with nothing to do. Then the showing of what everyone got. Finally I open mine. And then we eat some interesting breakfast usually consisting of chocolate, summer sausage, crackers, chocolate, cookies, crescent rolls, hot chocolate, maybe some eggs and pigs in a blanket.

Followed by nap time for Ruth. Each Christmas morning about 10 she was out for a couple of hours. Residual sleepiness from the late night before, combined with a deep contentment at having another really cool family Christmas.

Then the kids would go out and break something and cry about it, then get over it and go see what their friends had broken.

And K'Leigh would look out the front door each Christmas morning to see if Santa actually brought the pony this year. And each year my heart would sink knowing there was no pony. Maybe next year.

So this is a tough spot. But the rest of the last few days have been so great! Should I feel guilty? I don't, but it almost seems unfair to be having such a good time.

I did my last minute Walmart shopping just like every other year on Christmas Eve. And enjoyed it.

I'll let you know how tomorrow goes. Probably like most other Christmases. Except I don't think she'll look for the pony.”

Another good day though.

But, then comes Christmas....

Christmas Day 2008

2009-03-17T06:08:00.000-07:00

December 25th.

Jonathan woke me up at about 4:30 in the morning asking if we could open presents. Good grief, he's 18 for cryin' out loud. Actually it just seemed like 4:30, because it was dark outside at 7:30 and I had only gotten 4 hours of sleep. I had, it's tradition you know, been up until 3 a.m. wrapping presents again.

Oh yeah, one of the tough times was about 1 a.m. I thought, hmmm, there should be a Christmas movie on while we were wrapping presents and getting everything ready for Santa to come. But it was just me. That was a lonely time. Nobody to encourage (or be encouraged by) to get it all done before we went to bed. No one to make out with, while the kids were asleep. Well, we usually did that for a few minutes anyway. We had to do something to stay awake.

So I was feeling a bit contemplative. Not sad really. Just... a bit... detached? I don't know. Excited about the kids seeing gifts in the morning.

Anyway, Jonathan came in at 7:30 and we all gathered on the bed, that was another tradition. No one got to open presents until we all got on the bed. And then we made sure everyone had contacts in. (Another of Ruth's gifts to the kids, poor eyesight). Then we all went to the living room and sat for a minute. Not awkward really, well maybe just a little. And I started a brief discussion about Ruth. We talked for a few minutes. We were sad she wasn't there. We knew things would be a bit tempered without her, but still there was excitement about opening presents. And more than just opening our own, we were watching the others open theirs. Excitement not about what we got, but about what we gave.

After the 'snowstorm of wrapping paper', we played with toys and ran remote control cars into the tables, chairs, sisters, anything that got in the way.

Traditional Christmas breakfast didn't happen. No 14 flavors of cheeses and summer sausage and pigs in a blanket and other familiar fare. Hey kids, whatever is on the table is for breakfast. Dig in. Bethany was singing an old Bill Cosby song. "Daddy's great. Gives us the chocolate cake" Well, leftover birthday cake from yesterday. And other traditional Christmas fare. Pringles, Peanut butter and jelly, powdered milk, Hershey's kisses, granola bars, and peach juice.

But a great thing that day was going to the north to Jane and LeRoy's for Second Christmas (kind of like "second breakfast" except funner).

We had a Christmas feast of Turkey and Ham and dressing, green bean casserole, sweet potato pie and all my kids at lunch. Amazing. Then we gathered around the tree and Wesley read the Christmas story, traditionally read by the youngest reader. He read it while trying to eat chocolate and lick his fingers. He has incredible diction. You could hear every syllable.

And the whole time we are all looking at the tree and all the gifts under that thing. (The story was something about Jesus and Mary and getting born and being given one name but being called another. Those gifts were just so distracting.)

Oh my goodness. It was another snowstorm of wrapping paper. And guess what? More remote control cars! I seriously think we got 14 remote control cars between us.

David read a hilarious version of when the house in Blossom, Texas almost burned down. And he was on the toilet.

We even went shopping on Christmas day. Almost everything is open.

I had way too much chocolate. Man was that awesome.

Another tradition at their place is watching "The Greatest Christmas Pageant Ever". Which was fun 70's entertainment. At least for me until one scene late in the movie where they are in church and the organist is playing hymns. One of the pieces in the movie is "Wauchet Auf" by J. S. Bach. That was the song that Ruth processed down the aisle to at our wedding.

That song.

It is glorious. And majestic. And simple. And classy.

An unexpected tough time. But a sweet remembrance. That song has always provoked emotions. Deep content, quiet exhilaration. Especially since it became such a significant song. Tied to more than an event. A happening.

Completely caught off guard. It blind-sided me. That song brought amazing feelings to the surface. That emptying feeling came over me again. Leaves me tired emotionally. Drained is an interesting word. Like something seeping out. I wanted to be away, be alone, but I didn't want to make a scene either. So I just stayed there. For the next couple of hours on and off I was reminiscing, remembering Ruth in so many ways. Not constantly, but I would often drift back there to those memories. Maybe not memories of places and things, but memories of feelings and emotions associated with the places and things. I am doing a terrible job of describing this.

Maybe it makes this day more special. A backdrop against which the glories of today shine forth. Wonderful day.

Not the morose heavy-hearted day people told me it would be. It was still Christmas, and we still celebrated a birth, and we still sang songs and opened presents and loved being together. I'll take days like that any time.

Another type of anniversary December 26 2008

2009-03-17T06:06:00.000-07:00

December 26th.

The other bookend day of our Christmas week.

Our first date was January 26th, 1981. And the 26th of every month we would recognize it.

Dozens of those 'anniversaries' I would get her a red rose in a bud vase. We had so many stinkin' vases in the cabinets. I would even reuse them sometimes, just take them back to the flower shop and have them give me a re-fill.

I'll say that this day was not as easy as the others. A little more subdued. None of the days were depressing, far from it. They were glorious, grace-filled days. But this one was a more reflective day. No one to give a red rose to, or even threaten to give a red rose to. (She told me stop, that it was expensive, but I think she liked it).

So five days have passed. And they were grand, rewarding days.

People said this would be a tough time. They could have been right, but this time I think I got it right. I asked if His grace was only sufficient in other times and not in potentially terrible times. From what I have found about His character, His grace is always sufficient, and we can have great days even when it doesn't seem like we should. Didn't David praise quite a bit for someone being hunted down by an angry king? Just wondering.

Easy? No. Magnificent? Definitely. Will tomorrow be great too? One thing I have learned about me through all this, is that I never know what tomorrow will be like. And I am ok with that. I just know that He is good. I'm ok with that, too. And he can handle whatever happens, even if I can't. And I'm really ok with that.

Feels like I should celebrate Thanksgiving again. I'm so thankful for everything he has done with us this week. Really really thankful.

Kevin

What I know I know January 23 2009

2009-03-17T06:04:00.000-07:00

January 23 2009

I have washed back and forth over the issue of why all this happened, or more to the point, what was God doing all the time while Ruth was dying.

So, here it comes, the place where unshaking trust and honest questions come face to face.

At the risk of offending both my Calvinist AND Armenian friends, I am coming to some answers that seem dichotomous; And somehow having the ability to see both sides and come out on the other side trusting God's goodness above all else.

So, here goes...

I fully expected her to walk out of the icu unit after she died. I really did. I was just waiting to watch God do something so crazy, yet indelibly consistent with his behaviour. When he leaves his mark there is no doubt who it was.

So I expected her to peek around the corner and ask me to grab her a more modest gown, preferably pink, and definitely not brown.

And then we would fill out paperwork on a reversal of death certificate, pay bills, grab a bite to eat and head back to the guest house where we were staying, and laugh the whole time. Amazed and thankful, and humbly grateful, yet downright giddy at the opportunity to get to know and be known by such a good God.

It didn't happen.

Rather disappointing.

But even then, I didn't rant and rail. I remember I was a bit cheeky and told him he made a mistake in my estimation. He let one of the best of us die. She still had a lot to give. She had more glory to lay at his doing, not at her own. She was constantly giving him glory for how he used her for his purposes. And I asked 'why?'. A small 'why'.

I still wonder.

I love having such a diverse circle of friends. And there were a lot of them that reached out to us.

People's comforting words tended to run two courses. One response pointed to the comfort found in trusting God who knows and plans and makes things happen for his glory, not necessarily our understanding. The other response told of the comfort found in trusting God who sees what happened and hurts with us and uses awful and wonderful things for his glory, not taking us from life to be with him, but certainly receiving us when we get there.

And both understandings of God still allow that he is all powerful. One makes. One allows. Both can change plans. Both can bring back.

But we know there aren't two Gods. There is just one. And the question we tend to fight over is which one is he?

At least I have fought over that in my own mind.

An analogy taken irreverently from one of Ruth's cooking escapades got me to thinking.

I am the egg. And all the water in the pot has been boiled out. I feel scorched and dry and brittle. And I look around the pot and there isn't much left. There are friends in the pot. They feel much the same way. But most everything else is gone. Except for two very important ingredients.

But I am not an egg. I am a man. And Ruth is gone. And life is sometimes scorched and dry and brittle.

I almost said something this morning. I have always told people I wouldn't change the things that have happened in my life, because God has used them when I work with kids. Students have said they are going through certain things, and I can almost always respond, "I have been there. I know a bit about what you are going through", instead of just "Wow, that really stinks." It has been an incredible way to be used. I am so thankful for that.

This morning I almost said I wouldn't change the fact that Ruth died, because God can use that too. But, I am not there yet. Almost, maybe, but not yet.

Where I am is so hard. Not so much the tough emotions; intense sadness, guilt, loss, inability. Those are expected. I have tried hard not to run from them, but instead to sit with them, experience everything for what it is. I'm not sure as much healing would have occurred otherwise.

What's hard is not knowing which ones are going to surface any given day; minute; thought.

Just so tired of this. Ready to be whole. I don't mind the scars that will be left. Scars can come in handy. Good reminders so I don't try to just "move on". I hate that phrase. It connotes leaving something behind. There's a time for that for some experiences. This is not that experience. This goes with us, it is supposed to. It doesn't have to rule us, but it does need to be part of the traveling company.

I'm so ready to feel normal again. To choose to be selfish as opposed to being incapable. To feel free to laugh all the time, and escape my introspective vacant stares that I have become accustomed to. Looking at nothing, for something. But often I don't even know what I'm looking for. Like when I misplace my keys and forget what I was searching for.

Normal will be different. That's ok. And I think it will be much better than the unwelcome surprises my emotions keep springing on me. Please let it be so.

Speaking of different, right now it is perplexing to be confronted with my old ways and my new traits.

I like the new facets. I am different. And better in ways. I like the newing me. I just really want to get out of the refining fire. I am ready for the cooling, gentle shaping process.

But if I rush it what will I turn into? Something less than I could be probably.

So the pot is all boiled down, but there are two of God's characteristics that remain, two that I know that I know that I know.

I know now better than ever before that God is good. I can't explain it, don't know what majestic sermon I learned it from, can't even really describe the passion I say that phrase with. Unshakeable though. It has been constant from the day she died.

Friends are worth investing in. Much more than work, or interests.

To take an example from my experience: I have learned a lot about myself on the basketball court. Some good things, much I am not proud of. Many areas where I need to let God work on me. Character is shown for what it really is on the inside when you lay everything out there and face the pressures and frustrations and elations of competition. I know too much about my integrity, my selfishness, my desire for community and teamwork, my intensity, my breaking points. It has revealed great material for God to use to shape me into his man.

So basketball, and music and reading and working on cars and learning have all been great to help me grow and be grown…

But friends, family, people we invest in and allow to invest in us (Pauls, Barnabases and Timothys). Those are vital. They go through the fire with us. They give big tall hugs. They are waiting at the airport when we go home or come home. They do things we can't do for ourselves. They listen and don't commend or condemn without leave. They hold us with God's arms and comfort us with God's tears and love us with God's love.

These two things abide with me in the pot. That's it.

God is good and God is love.

It's nothing new. Older than dirt. But it's somehow truer now. More real. Like the velveteen rabbit.

And all that other stuff I worry about, expectations, appearances, advancement;

Even whether God planned or allowed Ruth to die.

They all pale compared to the glory that remains.

After all these years, I feel I actually know less about God. But what remains can be trusted. Implicitly. God is love and God is incredibly good.

I'm not just counting on it. I’m living on it. And living in it.

What did it cost her? February 11 2009

2009-03-17T06:02:00.000-07:00

February 11 2009

What follows is not some maudlin attempt to emotionally flog myself, so that I might somehow feel better. Nor is it a plea for pity or affirmation. Before this even started, as I was preparing to open this door, in a time of personal worship, the healing words “Forgiven” and “Complete” came.

Good thing, too. This has been harder than I wanted, but not than I needed. Those words are making this bearable.

Loved by her. Loved by God. Forgiven by both. Those are Truths guarding the way through the door I am about to enter. A doorway to a frightening reality.

It is a reality I would just as soon avoid. It is one of the most painful looks in a mirror I have ever taken. I did not want to see myself like this, nor did I want anyone else to see it.

I fight defensiveness so much. I just wish I won more of the bouts. The following excerpt came as I was writing the first response to the first entry in “What did it cost Ruth to stay in this marriage”. Unrighteous indignation reared its ugly head right from the start. great.

“(As I was write this, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, my scalp tingles, I feel angry, and hot on my chest. I am so defensive. I want to scream my innocence. It is so hard to state her side with no rebuttal from me. I am roiling in amazing depths of emotions. The urges to fight and flight are both straining at the harnesses.)”

I hope I have been honest, not defensive. Because this is not about me, it is about her and what price she paid to stay with me.

-------------------

I asked three people closest to her to tell me what it cost her to stay. They relayed discussions they had with her concerning our relationship. I have listed those issues and then responded to each one.

I want to thank them again for walking me through this particular night of grief. It is dark, and I could not do it alone.

I then reflected on the many ways I had hurt her through the years and the ways she forgave and gave into our relationship.

Here is one of several of the entries.

“She noted that the reality of marriage never measured up to the fantasy of marriage.

She invested in marriage even when she knew it would never be as good as she wanted it to be. Like continuing to work on a piece of art or writing when you know the end result is not going to be as good as it could be. She gave up her ideals for a more sober reality. She gave and gave and gave into a marriage to make it better.

It cost her herself.

She gave her Self to be married to me.”

What things are like now, March 11

2009-03-17T05:14:00.000-07:00

March 11 2009

Been thinking lately about what it’s like now. 6 months

down this road. There are some really great aspects to life right now. And a lot of things that just stink.

And in much the same way as life has gone lately, so will this letter.

I’ve said this before, but I miss holding hands. I see people walking arm in arm, hand in hand, and there is an emptiness, like I dropped my ice cream on the ground. And the ice cream stores are all closed now.

There is a list of things that really can mar a day. Here is part of it.

The other half of the bed is still made up every morning when I wake up.

I have to do all the household management things by myself. Groceries, paying bills, calling people. No one to share that load with.

No one to talk through kid-raising situations. It’s not ‘How do We deal with this?’ I make all the choices and live with all the consequences. The single parent thing is tough.

I still try to call her. Just to tell her about things I’ve seen.

It hurts every time I see her class on the playground. Or in the lunchroom. Or standing in line.

I see her pictures every day, but I don’t see her.

There are more. Always more.

But living is not always gloomy.

There are times when I feel like I’m going to make it through all this. And not just barely, but abundantly.

So much grace and so many blessings. Big and small.

Little things like…

I don’t have to share the bathroom with anyone.

I can leave the toilet seat up.

More closet space. Much more closet space. I never knew there was this much closet space.

I choose the menu, the movies, the restaurants, the curtains.

There is enough hot water in the shower every day.

I can leave my stuff all over the place if I want to.

No one has taken my pillow in a long time because they liked it better than theirs.

Funny thing is, I chose the curtains she wanted. I put the toilet seat down. And most amazing for those of you who have known me longest, My room is spotless. Every day. Clothes hung and folded, put in their place. Bed made. Books lined up. Toys put away. I’ve thought maybe this is a way to feel some control, but I have actually come to like it. I know what many of you are thinking.

And yes, maybe I have gone crazy.

I don’t have to wait for her anymore, and there is no standing around while she wraps up a conversation with someone for an hour.

I can have carpet again. (Long story)

Then again.

Sometimes it’s cold at night and my only option is getting up and getting another blanket.

No more nighttime duets. Just me and the guitar now.

There is an entire library of inside jokes that will never be laughed at.

I am still saddening friends who have not yet heard of her death. I have told that story way too many times.

No one yet understands me so completely, or reads my moods and knows what to say, or do, or not say, or not do.

There are attainable dreams that will never be fulfilled.

The golden anniversary was going to be grand.

Our home is not as warm, or loud, or funny as it should be.

And yet,

Our place has been used for big dinners with friends and family. (She put down a deposit on an enormous dining room table. We have used it numerous times now)

Every day I marvel that I am privileged to live in China. It’s full of language I don’t understand, culture I am appreciating more and more. Amazing food. Such a variety of things to see every time I walk out the door.

I live near mountains for the first time in my life. I can go up and look down on a city of 6 million people, and see the Xiao Qu where I live.

I can be anonymous in the midst of thousands of people. (An introvert’s dream)

I have family who live in town. We go to their house most weekends and spend the night before we go to fellowship the next morning.

I once again get to lead worship for a group of people who are committed to answering this call on their lives.

I get to teach some of the most amazing students I have ever met. At any time I can hear up to 7 languages in a day. These kids don’t just know about places around the world, they have lived in many of them. I learn so much!

I still get to go to work and my boys are there too. Family together, able to see each other several times a day.

I am getting to coach again. And take guitar lessons from a talented guitarist.

I am learning a new language. (Slowly)

I have friends here who have become close more quickly than I could imagine. I feel cared for, invested in, loved.

There it is. What typical days can look like now. Ups and downs and in betweens.

Still trying to figure out what living will look like from now on. All I really know is what today is like and what yesterdays were like. Tomorrow is more of a mystery than ever before.

But it doesn’t have to be as bad as it has been. And it can be better than it was. Learning to just sit here. See what is brought next.

I’ll say it again. I don’t think I know as much as I did before. But what I do know, I know more deeply.

He is good. And he loves me.

And I can live in that. And be sad in that. And grieve in that. And rejoice in that. And laugh again in that.

He is good. And he loves me.

That’s been enough for 6 months now.

It will be enough for tomorrow.

2008-09-02T05:05:00.001-07:00

These were taken before we left. Would not have

happened without Jesse and Jamin and Robin.

It was Ruth's idea. At 9:00 at night at Chik Fil A.

So I said to Jesse and Jamin, "You think we could pull it off?"

When they didn't say no (very loudly), I took that as a resounding YES!

So we stayed up until 4:00 in the morning.

How come stories involving me and Jesse usually involve 4:00 in the morning?

It's Green Arrow.

Just doing our part...

appreciating muslim cuisine

2008-09-01T08:32:00.000-07:00

There are a few muslim restaurants in town. Not much pork in those. Lamb and beef. Never had lamb before. Also, I never saw signs like this before...

This one is Jesseesque, worthy to be included in his inimitable gallery. Hold on to your cookies.

You couldn't make this stuff up.

Please come to China. There is so much I want to show you.

from a certain point of view...

2008-08-31T06:14:00.000-07:00

ellipses marks are the...

Here are some photos of where we live. Starting to feel like home.

Timothy Kenny Wesley Andrew City Gate

Ruth at the school gate, first day

Andrew and Marianne's Tim up in the mountains

Stinky Dofu, haven't tried it yet, not sure I will.
Our building. Well, it's not ours, but we live there.

Come visit, then you can see for yourself!!

Adventure lurks at every corner...shop

2008-08-25T01:50:00.000-07:00

I ordered food today. By myself. In Chinese. And I got what I wanted!!!! I was afraid that when I ordered fried rice, that I would get broasted eel in horse brine, but all I get was rice and egg and bits of scallion! Yeehaw!!

Getting Lost

2008-08-21T22:27:00.000-07:00

I have found so many new places the last couple of weeks. Getting lost is a daily occurrence. I have found a Tupperware store, guitar shops, cross stitch shops, a bus station, 3 KFC's, my apartment, 23 ways to get home (some more direct than others), the same restaurant over and over, and the crazy circle of death where no one dies.

The funny thing is, I am trying to go home form school the same way everyday. Why didn't they teach us the 25,000 Chinese characters in Texas public schools? It would make my life so much easier.

This is a very diverse town. I have seen 1 Hummer, 2 Navigators, a cadillac and streets filled with poor people living in poorer houses. It's funny, but I am preferring the squalid streets to the neon lights.

We have found a great outdoor grill place near our apartment. The meat is just all laying out there and you choose what you want cooked on the grill. It smells great when we walk by at night. It's sort of under a canvas awning on the sidewalk and it doesn't open until after dark. Come check it out with us when you come.

6th graders are great no matter what continent you are on! Just that here, they represent 9 different nations. How cool is that!