Time for the Question....

Why am I doing this to myself???

Every spring I ask myself this question on the same evening of the year. Tonight is the night.

Tonight is my first soccer game of the season. Yes, I am old. I play in the "senior ladies" division. Nice title. That includes everyone 18 and up (yes, that is half my age!). I am older than 18 and out of shape. But I love it. Of all the sports I've played over the years, soccer was my definite, all time favourite. Still is. I love the mental part of it, even if the body doesn't co-operate all the time. So I play. Again. I hope I don't break anything valuable. Hoping I won't be too stiff and sore to get out of bed tomorrow. Wish me luck!

Sometime soon I hope to share about our wonderful long weekend to B.C. But for now, I'm off and running...

Okay, I'll bite...

I've been tagged. In the blogger world, this means that someone has "tagged" you and would like you to anwer some questions or share some information.
This game of tag requires me to share 6 random tidbits of information about myself.

1. I am a night owl. I love to stay up late. Right now, it is 12:20 and I am watching a movie all by myself. Quiet. Peaceful. I'll have to force myself to go to bed at 1:00.

2. Steve and I love 80's music. Our collection of CD's has many "best of" albums: Pat Benetar, Platinum Blonde, Eagles etc. We are modernizing a bit and have turned kinda country! Whoda thunk??

3. I still love to play soccer in the summer. The body is much older, slower and out of shape, but I still love the mental and physical challenge involved in the game. Soccer has always been my number one favourite sport.

4. Steve will tell you I am a reality TV addict. Love Survivor, What Not to Wear, Trading Places, and, yes, even Big Brother at times.

5. We listen to music a lot in our house or while we are driving. Our kids now say to us in the car, "Can you turn it up louder please... and put it on number 3?" I play music in my classroom when I can, classical, praise and worship or those nature sounds. Love music.

6. As much as I love music, I'm not musically inclined. Played the piano for a year or two as a kids, plus the clarinet for 2 years. I like to sing, but other than that, can't do much! Wish I had kept up those piano lessons!

I'd love to hear your top six tidbits!

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to all of you moms! I hope you had a wonderful day.


I had a great day, beginning with breakfast and tea in bed, great homemade gifts from my fabulous kids and wonderful patio martini glasses and shakers and 2 pots for plants from my super husband and kids. We then had a great BBQ lunch after church at Steve's parents, followed by a trip to the cemetary and a long nap with Sara (so we can stay up late for Survivor!) So many blessings for which I am grateful!

Last June- Connor's birthday


And of course I couldn't help but think of two of the greatest moms I know and love dearly. I miss them both immensely.
Annette - August,2007 at the cottage

Mom with the grandkids- Jan. 2006

(unfortunately, I don't have a lot of pictures of Mom alone or with the kids on my disc. I have some earlier shots, but they are printed on hard copies- you remember, the old fashioned way...)

I am who I am today because of them both! I'm sure they are together right now, maybe even sipping some wine like we loved to do each mother's day.

I Love Surprises...

I received this card in the mail today:
Dear Aunt Lisa,
Thanks for all your motherly help and advice this past year. Know that you are loved and appreciated by us all. Happy Mother's Day.
Tom, Kurtis and Ryan

How wonderful to find that surprise in my mailbox today! Thanks, guys.
You are in my top six favourite guys of all time.

The Scarf

It was time to get rid of Annette’s clothes. Tom asked if I wanted anything before he got rid of the clothes, so I went through her closet. I often drop in and visit the closet when we go to Tom’s house. I like to look at and touch her clothes and remember. So, I was going through the clothes, taking some things for me to wear, taking some other things as mementos, and feeling OK about things. Some melancholy, (the maid-of-honour dress from my wedding). Some sweet memories, (the Mickey Mouse sweatshirt from our fabulous trip to Disneyworld).

Then I came upon the drawer. The second drawer from the top. Inside that drawer were all the head scarves that Annette wore. They stopped me in mid motion, hand left hanging in mid-air. I cursed each and every one as I moved them aside, one by one. I even said, “I hate you.” Like it was the scarves’ fault. Isn’t that a sight? A grown woman telling head scarves, “I hate you.” To me, at that moment, they symbolized her cancer. I felt pure hatred for the scarves.

But later that evening, I got to thinking about the scarves. About their purpose. About what they gave to Annette. About how the soft fabric protected her sweet head from getting cold. About how they provided her with some modesty and comfort in her home. About how she began to feel comfortable enough that she would sometimes wear them in public. The scarves actually provided comfort and security. They served their purpose well. So, in a way, I am grateful for the scarves.

Then I thought more of some “ugly” props in life. Walkers. Canes. Wheelchairs. Hospital beds. Yet they all have their place. Then the ugliest prop of all came to mind.

The cross. Roughly hewn. Crudely nailed or tied together. Shoved into the ground without a foundation, I’m sure. Ugly, like the head scarf. And yet, it has its purpose. A beautiful and grand purpose. The ugly prop, which never was beautiful, also served its purpose. And for that reason I need not hate the head scarf. Or the hospital bed. The walker or cane. Because the ugliest prop of all made all these other things not all that important. The cross made them just that… props.

Happy Birthday Kurtis!!

Kurtis is NINE today!!

Your mom and I really enjoyed being pregnant together and having our first babies 3 months apart. We loved to talk and share and compare notes about everything. We shopped and planned and compared names. I remember the day your mom and dad were blessed by your birth. Your mom was sent to the hospital because the doctors thought it was high time you arrived. (I'm not sure how many days "overdue" you were, you'll have to ask your dad). Your mom went into the hospital on the evening of the 17th. Opa, Oma and I were at your mom and dad's house eagerly waiting. I dozed all night long thinking of your mom and dad. We were all very excited to finally meet you after so many months of waiting. The first grandchild!! And you were so handsome (still are!) Your mom was worried about the scratch you received on your cheek from some of the instruments used. But after a short while, she knew that you were fine and that it even made your handsome face even more so!

We are all blessed to have you in our family and in our lives. You are loved very much by us all.
We hope you have a wonderful day celebrating your big day!!

With lots of love,
Aunt Lisa, Uncle Steve, Sara and Connor

Mike's Miracles

Cancer has long reaching, ugly tentacles. No one is spared it touching a life close to them, at some point, at some time.

God has longer reaching, beautiful arms. He wraps us in arms and brings good things from the bad.

I'd like you to meet a very special guy named Mike. Many of you are familiar with his story already. Mike is a 12 year old boy who attends our church and is a student at the school I teach at. He unfortunately has a very rare, aggressive sarcoma (Annette also had sarcoma) and right now is discontinuing treatment. Yet in his most difficult times, he has the foresight to think of others. Future patients who might be in his shoes some day. He has displayed the greatest grace in taking this ugly tentacle and turning it into something for God's glory. I know Annette was often encouraged in her own journey by hearing about Mike's tenacity. Read more about his legacy here and see a video clip of Mike on the local news here.

Mike, you are an example for us all. We are encouraged and inspired by your story.

I'm Learning...

I'm learning a great deal on my journey, and then again, sometimes I need to be reminded over and over and over again.

I've already learned but keep forgetting that while one moment is very difficult and heavy it doesn't mean I'll feel that way in an hour or tomorrow. I knew that but keep forgetting. Sometime soon, I'll master that one.

I've learned that public mourning is something that has fallen by the wayside in our society and that is not a good thing. We no longer wear black, take time off of our regular tasks/jobs, let the world know we mourn and are in pain. I wonder how I'd look in sackcloth and ashes?? I have learned why public mourning is important. When you share your hurt and pain, people respond with prayer, gestures, hugs, kind words or posts. When people respond, you feel better, you feel loved and cared for and it makes the cloak lighter to bear. It's a neat little chain reaction. Had I not shared my pain on Sunday, I would have missed out on some special moments this week. I feel loved and am loved.

I have learned and felt the power of prayer. I know many people have held me up in prayer this week. You have prayed for my comfort and peace. I know that. I can feel that.

I am learning and I have learned.

Any New Posts?

I have been a blog and internet board follower for many, many years. It's funny how through one blog, you get connected to another blog and soon you are following many lives through the internet world. I also know that when I visit a blog, I hope to see a new post. Many times I click on "Bump on the Road" and absent-mindedly hope to see a new post. But then I think, just who would post that? That'd be me. And I have a touch of melancholy. I miss the surprise of seeing a new post on "Bump on the Road". The things I have discovered that bring a flash of sadness....

Many of you tell me that you still visit the site and I am glad that you care for us and our grief. Quite honestly, I personally have been feeling very low lately. Things are settling, change is occuring, sorrow grows and grief is heavy. Sometimes it feels like I'll never see the light of day again. Another holiday has come and gone and I can't help but reflect on the carefree days of 5 years ago, or 3 years ago even. I grieve. We grieve.

I have been reading through many of Annette's files this past while. I feel close to her when I read them, like we're having a conversation. I can hear her voice like she is beside me. I also feel much sorrow when I read them. I think I will leave the files for the time-being.

She had written her own obituary. We hadn't found it before (it was on her laptop and not on the home computer). I think we did it justice, but there were a few lines that she had written herself that we hadn't included:

"Annette was a chartered accountant but had spent the past 3 ½ years at home taking care of her beloved children. She enjoyed spending time with her family and before her illness, volunteering with the Down syndrome community.

Please come rejoice with us as we celebrate Annette’s triumphant return to the Lord. Her faith was a source of great comfort to her and she received great strength by knowing that her God carried her in his hands throughout her illness."

Triumphant. What a great word! And I'm sure it was... triumphant.

Amen, Annette. I will carry those last 2 senteces with me throughout this week.

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Today is another milestone in our family.
Dad is turning 70 today and we are very excited to celebrate this day with him! But it is more than a day, really. It is a landmark to a legacy. Dad, as many other people by the age of 70, has led a well-traveled life of joy and grief, good times and bad. The last 2 years, of course, have been very difficult. However, Dad has always been our rock in the midst of the storm. He has weathered much because of his faith in God. He has shared and passed on his faith and love, and we are grateful for the gift he is to us all. Some of Annette’s last words on her final day here were, “You are the best dad ever!” And I certainly share those words whole-heartedly. Thank you, Dad, for your never-ending love and generosity, your kindness and caring, your endless free babysitting and the joy you have for your grandchildren. We pray that today you will feel blessed by a lifetime of love, and that this year will bring you much happiness and excitement, come what may. We love you!
So, even if you’ve never had the pleasure of meeting Dad, come on out of lurk-dom to wish him a wonderful birthday!

Lisa, Steve, Sara and Connor
Tom, Kurtis and Ryan

Life Goes On...

Life goes on and in so many ways it is a blessing.

Life goes on and in some ways it is really crappy.

Joy and sadness walk hand in hand.

Happy Birthday Superman!

Ryan is 7 today. Can you believe it? I can't. Seven years he has graced our lives with his laughter and love. Do you remember the pictures Annette posted last September of him in his Superman costume? He is larger than life! (Does that phrase even make sense? But I still like the sound of it and even if the phrase doesn't make sense, I still think it applies to Ryan!) Ryan, you are loved by all of your family, always have been and always will be, now and forever. Have a wonderful day!

Ryan had a Pirate Party last Saturday with 25 of his closest pals! The kids wore costumes and ran around like pirates after too much rum! Ryan looked so cute in his swash-buckling pirate costume. The black around his eyes is make-up. He also had a great pirate ship cake. What a fun day the kids had! There was also a magician who kept the kids entertained for over an hour (as all the adults breathe a sigh of relief!)

Oh, and it only took me 3 hours to upload the pictures on my dial-up! (Kidding, but close!)

Here We Are

We are here. We are quiet. Quiet and contemplative, I think. Reality is setting in. The road into the valley narrows and deepens, at least for me. Two months. It seems like it has been so long since I've talked to Annette, and yet it seems so fast. Two months can seems like such polar opposites; so fast and yet a lifetime ago. The same can be said for Grief. Some days (some moments...), it is managable and the large picture is so evident. Other moments, it is heavy and never ending. The light at the end of the tunnel seems like a pin-point at best. I am learning to ride the waves and experience each emotion as it comes. Because I feel good today, does not ensure I'll feel that way tomorrow. Because I feel so down today, does not mean I'll feel that way tomorrow. Such is the journey we travel.

I am an avid reader and have read several books on grief. It is good that someone has charted this journey for me and told me which landmarks to look for. I find that immensely helpful. I like knowing what to expect, although I know everyone grieves differently. I take hope and comfort in knowing I am not the first to travel the road.

Someone close to me shared an analogy of her grief. To her, grief is like a cloak. Some days it is a heavy cloak to bear, ever present and cumbersome. Other days, it is like a light spring cloak, still there, but easy to carry. I long for the days when the spring cloak will be on my back on the majority of my days.

We continue to covet your prayers more than ever as the journey becomes more difficult. Your friendship and love help carry us through and help to lighten our cloaks.

In Memory of Meta

At some point during her treatment, Annette sat in the cancer clinic waiting room. Another patient and she began small talk. It turned out that this co-patient belonged to the same denominational church as Annette in another city. Annette felt compelled to share that Ryan had Down Syndrome, which she normally did not share in the course of small talk conversation. It turned out that Meta had a foster sibling with Down Syndrome. The two felt a strong connection after finding so many similarities about their lives and developed an immediate and strong bond. At the prayer service last fall, Annette was very committed in her desire to also pray for Meta and Marisa. Meta was able to attend the service and it was moving to see the two women in such similar circumstances embrace each other in tears and love.

Meta made the trip to the visitation after Annette died. I know it was an effort filled trip. I told Meta how much her friendship meant to Annette and she also proclaimed the same. She then told me that she was even a little jealous of Annette that now her pain was over and she was in heaven.

Meta finished her fight and now is pain free in heaven. I'm sure they had a wonderful reunion together. Tom was able to visit with Meta one last time the week before she died.

We think of her husband and children as they journey the valley of grief and pray for their peace. Meta was 53.

The Horizon

I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud on the horizon.
Just where the sea and the sky come to mingle with one another.
Then someone at my side says, "There, she is gone."
"Gone where?"
Gone from my sight. That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side,
And she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment when someone at my side says.
"There, she is gone," there are other eyes watching her coming,
And other voices ready to take up the glad shout:
"Here she comes!"
And that is dying.

Henry Scott Holland

Gifts Left Behind

Annette left many files on her computer for us to go through after she died. She named the file Documents If I Die. Always practical, she left intructions for the funeral and some other housekeeping things. She also left many of her thoughts behind for us to share. Annette also made a video last May and July for us. It truly is such a gift to have these words from her. I would like to share some of these thoughts.

Annette did not want anyone, especially her boys, to blame God for her death. She wanted no one to ask, "What kind of God would take away a 41 year old wife, mother, daughter and sister?" She continues..."I hope that, even through this, we can praise God for his unfailing love and faithfulness. I do not believe that God sent this cancer to me. Disease, illness, and death are a consequence of the fall...it is because we are not in perfect harmony anymore with God. Some people ask, "Why did God allow this (to happen) to me?" I find that a very selfish question. There are so many things that are tough in the world... genocide, the Holocaust, poverty in the 3rd world.... I do believe God CAN take away the bad things, but to do so would be the end of the world. He put the laws of nature in place and put us, human beings, in charge of the world. It's up to us to take care of it. "

"God is a God of LOVE. Pure love. What He wants more than anything is to be in true commune with us. But because of our break with Him, we are unable to be totally in community with Him at this time. But we can try. Meditation, praying, reading the Bible and getting to know the God of love are all ways."

"I look forward to being with God when I die. I'm just incredibly sad that I have to leave this world and my loved ones".

Annette never blamed God and didn't think she was "given" cancer. Her greatest desire was that, "even through this, we can praise God for his unfailing love and faithfulness".

No More Lamps Needed

Just after Annette died, my daughter Sara (8) and I were reading a children's book that dealt with death and heaven. One page was talking about heaven and all the things that would be there:
God.
Jesus.
Beauty.
Happiness.

And all the things that wouldn't.
No more pain.
No more sickness.
No more cancer .
No more sadness.
No more darkness or night. Huh? Sara said' "Mommy, it says there won't be darkness and night in heaven. Is that right?" I had never heard that before! I told her I wasn't sure, but that we'd check that out soon. The following Sunday, in church, I was looking for some inspiration from Revelations. Lo and behold I came across Rev. 22:5 "There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever".
No more night! No more darkness! (Will we still sleep? Because I love my bed and a good night sleep!) Not needing a lamp because we will see by the light of God! How cool is that?
Take comfort that we will no longer have long, dark nights filled with pain and grief. No more shadows of longing for things we wished had been. Only God's bright joy to guide our every minute!

In Christ Alone

Annette chose several of her favourite songs to sing at her funeral. However, she didn't want anyone singing them "wimpy". So we did our best. I thought it was beautiful. One of them was "In Christ Alone". The words have so much meaning and hope for all of us. I have uploaded the song here for you to listen, to remember if you were able to join us at the service, to share now if you were able to join us only in thought and prayers and for all of us to enjoy and reflect.

Peace and Hope,
Lisa

In Christ Alone Worship Video with Lyrics

The Power of Hope

My friend lent me a book to read entitled When I Lay My Isaac Down by Carol Kent. Much in this book has spoken to me while I read it. One of my favourite parts I want to share with you. It begins with the words "The Power of Hope"

"Hope becomes unsinkable when we realize our hope is not in having spouses or friends who will never disappoint us, or in enjoying financial security or in having perfect health or in having children turn out exactly as anticipated. Hope remains constant when we get to know the Source of all hope.

"Perhaps the psalmist said it best: I wait quietly before God, for my hope is in Him. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will not be shaken. My salvation and my honour come from God alone. He is my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me (Psalm 62:5-7).

"Hope's power is that we have the energy and desire to gon on living because we believe something better is coming. That's the bottom line for Christians: something better is coming. There is more to this world than meets the eye. No matter what happens to you or your familiy, no matter what disappointments you encounter, no matter what diagnosis the doctor gives you, even if the end result is physical death, there is still something more.

"But we're not home yet, So my encouragement for today is that if I put my hope in the Lord, there are great benefits. Isaiah once said, "But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." (Isaiah 40:31)" (p. 108, Carol Kent)

What a wonderful comfort! I know Annette had this comfort too, which is such a comfort to us. We know the end of the story! I pray that you will also experience this hope in 2008.

Peace and Hope,
Lisa