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

Many of you are wondering how we are doing. I think the best answer is OK. We are making it through. Each hour can bring a different feeling and a whole range of emotions. We take it day by day, or even minute by minute. We continue to be comforted by the outpouring of tokens of sympathy and appreciate all the cards, meals, baked goods, gifts, flowers and prayers.

Christmas Eve day we spent together. We had a different kind of laid back day. Unfortunately, Ryan was sick before Christmas and Kurtis came down with it Christmas Eve day. We hung out, the kids played and watched some TV as Kurtis wasn't feeling all that great, had naps and laid low.

One other piece of information that some of you may not know is that Tom has a new nanny for the boys. Annette and Tom found Alyssa (hope the spelling is OK) through one of the in-home nurses that came for Annette. The nurse knew they were looking for someone and connected them to Alyssa. The Tuesday before Annette died, she called me and told me that Alyssa had agreed to come and work for them. I could tell that she was so very happy and relieved that they had found somone so quickly, especially since she had phoned me, which she hadn't done for a little while. This was, I believe, one of the final pieces that Annette needed to feel at peace that everything was in place for the boys. Alyssa has many wonderful qualifications, she is able to drive the boys places if needed, she has worked with people with special needs and seems to be a perfect fit. She moved in over the past weekend and is slowly getting to know the family.

Tom and the boys are keeping busy during the time off of school. I think having this time is nice as an adjustment period before jumping back into school and work. I also have enjoyed a slower pace at home to reflect, rest, clean, shop and be with my kids. We continue to covet your prayers.

Wishing you the peace of Christmas,
Lisa

Welcome to Holland

Those of you who came to the church might have seen the table displayed with many tulips, a poem and a picture. Some of you might have gotten an explanation, but others might not have been aware of what that was all about.

There is a poem entitled "Welcome to Holland" by Emily Kingsbury that likens the journey of having a child with special needs to a trip. After Annette had Ryan, she became fond of this poem. She also reached out to an internet group that was made up of women (and some men) from all over North America and even the world and became very close friends with them. Together, they shared their journeys. Two of these special women even made the long trip up from Indianna to attend and speak at her funeral on behalf of everyone.

The poem means a lot to many of them. Annette's favourite flower became a tulip because of this poem. Over 25 women from all over Canada and America each sent one single tulip in a bud vase. Together, they made a beautiful arrangement and I know Annette would have been very touched. That is the story behind the stunning table of tulips, which included the poem. Thank you friends, for that wonderful display of flowers, but more importantly for your love for Annette, which was born from the wonderful journey you all share.

Lisa

WELCOME TO HOLLAND By Emily Perl Kingsley
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And for some, the pain of that will never go away... because the loss of that dream is a significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.

What a Day!

We are so overwhelmed and touched by the outpouring of love from so very many of you. The church was packed to the rafters today. I thought the service was so beautiful. Thank you for all of your thoughtful tokens of love and sympathy. Words cannot express all the things we felt yesterday and today.

I have many thoughts and things to share with you about the past six days. However, those will need to wait until another day.

For tonight, a sincere thank you and a wish for God's peace.

Lisa

Annette Lammer

LAMMER Annette (Bruinsma) Peacefully at home, after a courageous battle with cancer, on Sunday, December 16, 2007, went to be with her Lord, at the age of 41. Annette is the dearly loved wife of Tom and beloved mother of Kurtis and Ryan. Dear daughter of Gordon and Winnie (2006) Bruinsma and sister of Lisa and Steve VanderKuip. A favourite aunt of Sara and Connor. Dear daughter-in-law of John and Theresa Lammer and sister-in-law to Andy. The family will receive friends from 1-4 and 7-9 on Tuesday, December 18, 2007 at First Christian Reformed Church, Guelph, 287 Water Street. The funeral will be at First Christian Reformed Church on Wednesday, December 19 at 11:00 am. Interment to follow at Woodlawn Cemetery. If desired, memorial donations may be made to the Canadian Down Syndrome Society, Waterloo Regional Down Syndrome Society, Canadian Cancer Society or Heart & Stroke Foundation.

Dear family and friends,

Annette went to be with her Lord at 1:00 am this morning, peacefullly. We are grateful for her peace, though we miss her greatly already.
We will post more details as they are made.

Dear Family and Friends,

"I know the Lord is always with me. I will not be shaken for He is right beside me." (Psalm 16:8)

This past summer, we received the disappointing news that the trial that Annette was on was no longer keeping the cancer at bay. We continued to hope and pray for a miracle through a new trial. This fall proved to be a tougher time for Annette, and she has become very frail and weak. The cancer continued to progress.

We now find ourselves at this time having to share this most difficult news with you. Annette, at present, is comfortably resting, surrounded by her family who loves her dearly. However, it seems her time here is ending.

We have been blessed to have this time to talk and share, laugh and cry together, and cling to the hope that soon she will be healed in heaven.

We spoke about her blog this afternoon. Annette wanted to wish everyone her love. She is so very thankful for all of you and for all of the support she has received over this time.

She is surrounded by her family at home, which is what she wants. Visits aren’t practical for Annette, but we will keep you updated through her blog.

Thank you for all your support, love and prayers.

Annette, Tom, Gord, Lisa and families

It's been a tough haul...

It's been hard work getting better and I'm still not there.

My legs still are the size of tree trunks (and they look like them too). The doctor decided today that the diuretics weren't doing any good so we agreed to stop taking them. Instead I'm too wrap my feet and legs in compression bandages and see how that works. (Chris - I think you suggested that???).

I'm also needing oxygen regularly. That's something I haven't shared here before. I started using oxygen at night about 5 weeks ago. Now I've started needing oxygen day and night all the time. The oxygen helps so much with sleeep and daily activities.

and finally, the other tough thing is that we're losing our nanny. :( She's heading back to school in January and giving it another shot. I'm happy for her but sad for us. We now need to find another nanny - and soon!!

That's all for now. Sorry it's such a short one but Kurtis just came home from scool and I've got to help getting snacks!