Remembering Pop

Two years today, James and I began the most emotionally difficult stretch of our marriage and family life to date. It was a Monday and James' sister, Angel, had taken their dad, Pop, for a doctor appointment to check some things out since he had felt under the weather over the weekend. Her phone call that afternoon rocked our world. The doctor had taken her aside to tell her that Pop was seriously ill and was only expected to live another couple of days. As James listened and reacted, then hung up and filled me in, I truly felt like I was in shock. Things happened quickly as he readied to leave and meet Angel and Pop at the Vines' home, since Angel didn't want to have to discuss the news with Pop and Granny alone. I made plans to join them there later, after notifying some friends to please pray for strength for us all.

After years of working so hard to provide for his family and giving to others, sweet Pop's heart and lungs were just worn out. A combination of issues related to emphysema, asbestosis from coal mining, congestive heart failure, damage from years of cigarette use had damaged his lungs and heart beyond repair. The few months prior had also included family stress and hurt that we all believe contributed to his physical decline, though none of us were prepared for the prognosis received that day.

I gave James time to share those moments with his family before bringing Isaac, Abigail, and Elijah over. The mood was serious and we livened it up a little bit, though the kids knew the basics of the situation. We all hoped for a few days at least, since there just had been no warning that he was suffering so greatly. Pop and Granny both wanted us there, and as he reclined in his chair and we visited, he asked often where the kids were and what they were doing, as they played around the house. His usually strong voice was raspy and weaker than normal, calling, "Where are the babies?" I loved when he called them all that. Within a few hours, it became softer, and then, very faint. Before we left that evening, we all had time to hug him, and the kids did too, telling him how much we loved him. He responded to every one of us. He asked for me specifically, and I leaned in to kiss his scruffy cheek, and he said, "I love you, doll." That was a special expression for only the girls who were closest to him. It was my favorite. He squeezed my hand in his big ol' knuckly hand. I cried and said I would see him in the morning.

We slept as well as we could that night at home, though James stayed with his family there. The next morning I made plans to have the children taken care of by friends so I could go back over, and James told me it had been a stable night, but Pop hadn't spoken anymore after we left. We visited quietly as more family came, the hospice nurse shared info with us, and we just waited. That afternoon, it became obvious that the doctor's estimate had been generous. We knew there wouldn't be even a couple of days left.

I don't know if you've ever been with a loved one in their last hours. I am sad that I know some of you have. To watch Pop's complexion actually change, and his breathing to slow gradually, and his life to just drift out of him was a very poignant experience. The physical signs probably helped us see that he was leaving us, but it also was heart-wrenching. Though I dreaded seeing him looking so unlike himself, I am grateful I could be there, witnessing that transition and seeing him peacefully sleep until he was gone.

One of the most beautiful parts of that day, because there was beauty despite the pain, was when Pop's sweet niece came over with his sister. Angel asked if she would sing a favorite hymn, Peace in the Valley. Hearing that precious, pure voice he loved sing right there in the living room was moving and a wonderful tribute to Pop. He officially was gone from this life right at 3:30 pm. Someone later pointed out that was quitting time at the mines, and it was so fitting that Pop was "off duty" right after he'd put in his day's work. For anyone who knew him, and his responsible, committed work ethic, that was a detail that made us smile.

Two years later, I can hardly believe how much we feel his vacancy in our lives. I wore one of his flannel shirts today. It feels like him, but doesn't smell like him anymore. No phone calls from him to check in on us. No funny commentary on the latest national news. No more jet black, styled-with-Vaseline hair. No more  "Pass me the cornbread - just hand me a piece!" Oh, he was so much fun! So tender with little children, doting on his wife, loving with animals, loyal to friends, and so strong and tough in the right ways.

He had also been a master electrician and during times of strike at the mines, would do electrical work, or odd jobs, to keep the family fed and bills paid. Many folks hired him to do wiring, or yard clean up, or bought the fish he'd caught, etc. Nothing was beneath him, though he had skills and experience that could've made him prideful. He was willing to do whatever it took to be the provider for his family. What a wonderful example, and it's no wonder James is the kind of provider he is.

Pop grew up when folks didn't treat each other equally, based on skin color. Though he had examples of hatred all around him, I always admired and loved the fact that he grew up to be dear friends with a man with much darker skin than himself.  He talked and visited with Jim often, and several other men served alongside Jim as pallbearers and were there to support the family at the funeral and days to come, based on their long term friendship with Pop. Besides working in the mines with these men, he did electrical, and other, jobs for many African American families over dozens of years, sometimes without pay, and without complaint. It was good to help folks in need, no matter their race, and he chose to do the right thing. He still struggled with how to reconcile what he'd been taught as a child and how to overcome that prejudice in his language at times. He wasn't afraid to challenge popular divisions in their community, or even his own personal leanings. It takes a strong person to do that, I think. What a testimony of loving others as himself.

James just finished a large building project, redoing the deck on our house. A hundred times during that job, I kept thinking how much Pop would've loved to be there, seeing our kids all hammer nails into scrap wood alongside James. He was the one to teach the older three how to hammer and that is a sweet memory. The fact that he never met Owen Thomas is one of my main regrets in life. He would love this little boy who is so like him, and bears his name; a people person, quick with a smile, and already such a hard worker. I imagine his deep chuckle and just know he'd say, "Look at that boy, Nancy! Woo, I tell ya, he is something else!"  I mourn that we have to wait a lifetime to see them together.

I am so grateful that for 17 years I was able to share many moments with such a dear person, and that he knew I loved him deeply. I long for the day our family will be together again. Thank you, Lord, for blessing me with such a father for my husband, and example for us all!

i love this adoring look from isaac

Here are a few favorite photos, showing him just being the best Pop ever.

fishing with abigail

meeting elijah

Thoughts on dying

Here are some of my favorite quotes on this blog's current happy subject of death.

This one is a quote my Dad loves and pointed out to me years ago, by Jack London. Wow, it's good.

“I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.”

Then, here is Rich Mullins' own favorite song he wrote and which fit him so perfectly, he seemed to be a prophet as well. He was snatched from this life in a freak, sudden car accident, and I don't think it broke his heart to leave either.

Elijah

The Jordan is waiting for me to cross through
My heart is aging I can tell
So Lord, I'm begging
For one last favor from You
Here's my heart, take it where You will

This life has shown me how we're mended
And how we're torn
How it's okay to be lonely as long as you're free
Sometimes my ground was stoney
And sometimes covered up with thorns
And only You could make it what it had to be

And now that it's done
Well, if they dressed me like a pauper
Or if they dined me like a prince
If they lay me with my fathers
Or if my ashes scatter on the wind
I don't care

But when I leave I want to go out like Elijah
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the stars
Well, it'll be like a candlelight in Central Park
And it won't break my heart to say goodbye

There's people been friendly
But they'd never be your friends
Sometimes this has bent me to the ground
Now that this is all ending
I want to hear some music once again
'Cause it's the finest thing I have ever found

But the Jordan is waiting
Though I ain't never seen the other side
They say you can't take in
The things you have here
So on the road to salvation
I stick out my thumb and He gives me a ride
And His music is already falling on my ears

There's people been talking
They say they're worried about my soul
Well, I'm here to tell you I'll keep rocking
'Til I'm sure it's my time to roll
And when I do

But when I leave I want to go out like Elijah
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the stars
Well, it'll be like a candlelight in Central Park
And it won't break my heart to say goodbye

Psalm 40, and U2's version, must be part of my funeral/homegoing service, whatever it's called.

Psalm 40:1-5
1 I waited patiently for the LORD;
he turned to me and heard my cry.
2 He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock
and gave me a firm place to stand.
3 He put a new song in my mouth,
a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear
and put their trust in the LORD.
4 Blessed is the man
who makes the LORD his trust,
who does not look to the proud,
to those who turn aside to false gods. [a]
5 Many, O LORD my God,
are the wonders you have done.
The things you planned for us
no one can recount to you;
were I to speak and tell of them,
they would be too many to declare.

And, this song by Rich has to be played.

Be With You
Rich Mullins

Everybody each and all
We're gonna die eventually
It's no more or less our faults
Than it is our destiny
So now Lord I come to you
Asking only for Your grace
You know what I've put myself through
All those empty dreams I chased

And when my body lies in the ruins
Of the lies that nearly ruined me
Will You pick up the pieces
That were pure and true
And breathe Your life into them
And set them free?

And when You start this world over
Again from scratch
Will You make me anew
Out of the stuff that lasts?
Stuff that's purer than gold is
And clearer than glass could ever be
Can I be with You?
Can I be with You?

And everybody all and each
From the day that we are born
We have to learn to walk beneath
Those mercies by which we're drawn
And now we wrestle in the dark
With these angels that we can't see
We will move on although with scars
Oh Lord, move inside of me

And when my body lies in the ruins
Of the lies that nearly ruined me
Will You pick up the pieces
That were pure and true
And breathe Your life into them
And set them free?

And when You blast this cosmos
To kingdom come
When those jagged-edged mountains
I love are gone
When the sky is crossed with the tears
Of a thousand falling suns
As they crash into the sea
Can I be with you?
Can I be with you?

Rich's comments on this song:
"I always like reviews that you get in magazines by people who don't have a clue as to what's going on. Not that I think I get necessarily bad reviews. I just think they criticize the wrong things about my albums. This guy said that this was a morose song, because it dealt with death. And he said, the rest of these songs are pretty nice on this album, but this one is really morose, and it's kind of maudlin, and it's about dying. You know, I think it's a bizarre thing that in the first century, Christians looked at death with a great anticipation. And in primitive Christianity, death was considered a wonderful time. That in the Old Testament, it says that we should celebrate the day of a man's funeral and not the day of his birth. And yet in sophisticated twentieth-century America, we look at all those church traditions and the wisdom of God, and we scoff at it. And we say that people who want to die are morbid. I don't particularly want to die because my life is bad, because I probably have the best life in the whole world. I don't have to work for a living or anything. When I left the farm - I grew up on a farm - and when I left, I said, 'God, do anything, but don't let me work.'"

for Grayson

This post is in honor and memory of a woman I had very few personal encounters with. Her name was Kathy, and she touched my life so profoundly, that it's almost hard to describe. I taught school for almost 5 years at a great local Christian school. I loved teaching there, and I had great experiences with awesome families and co-workers. It just was a super time in my life. I miss a lot about it, though I'm thankful to be home now, teaching my own kids. My last year with 1st graders, I had a student named Grayson. As the new year began, we had the typical open house/meet the teacher time. I remember meeting Grayson and his family, along with 17 or so other families that night. His mom was really sweet and stood out in the way that she quickly recapped their summer, preparing for first grade, her concerns and hopes, and overall just seemed like one of those moms that really is involved and will be someone you can count on. She had several close friends in the class, and it was neat to see the familiarity between them. We began school that week, and it was a normal transitional time, but proved to be a great class immediately. Within the first couple of weeks though, Kathy sent a note letting me know that she'd be going in to the hospital for an outpatient test because of some recent headaches and other problems. Her note was simple, but she mainly wanted to let me know who would pick Grayson up that afternoon, and asked for prayer for their family. I saw her in carpool that afternoon, and didn't even get to speak, but waved goodbye as they pulled out.
What happened next was like a horrible nightmare that lasted for the next seven and a half months. Some of the events are fuzzy to me, but basically, the test showed a mass on her brain, and the physician opted to go ahead and do a biopsy. During the biopsy, there were complications that caused Kathy to go into a coma. She was unresponsive for days. In the meantime, Eddie, Grayson's dad, had his dad and stepmom help with Grayson and Kathryn, his almost 2 year old sister. Kathy's parents were no longer living. When Kathy finally did come out of the coma,with stroke-like symptoms (immobility and loss of speech) there was only bad news. The mass was malignant cancer, a glioblastoma-an aggressive, inoperable brain tumor.
I remember just being shaken when I was told, thinking she was too young and healthy-looking to be terminally ill, and with young children, surely God would not allow that diagnosis to come true. Throughout the fall and winter though, we went through the many changes in their family with them - home nursing care was brought in, various chemo meds. were tried, and families in our school rallied to support them. I set up a schedule of different moms to take Grayson home after school each day to do homework with him and care for him so Eddie could work some, and we had volunteers from throughout the elementary school do meals for them, nearly every weekday for months, so there was one less thing for Eddie to deal with in the evenings. Kathryn had friends help care for her and overall, we tried to keep their routines as consistent as possible. Because of Kathy's godly character and friendly nature, many families knew her and were eager to help. It was a powerful thing to see these families just take this burden on as an extended family and love on Grayson and his family.
I visited Kathy several times during those months, assuring her we loved them and were trying hard to love on Grayson like she'd want, and I shared things he'd accomplished in school. She rarely spoke, but she always smiled gently and softly said, "Thank you." She had been a gifted songwriter and guitarist and there was usually praise music in the background when I visited their home. I always left so sad, seeing her condition worsen each time.
We knew after the first of the year that things were not getting better and the chemo wasn't working, only had caused her to lose her beautiful, auburn hair. My class had prayed for months that God would heal Mrs. Kathy if it was the best thing, and we discussed how that was what we wanted, but we wanted Him to do what was right. It was hard to try to teach that, much less mean it sincerely myself. I had no preparation for dealing with the subject of death with first graders and no college course helped me know what to say. I just prayed and cried with them, and was as real as I knew how to be. They knew it was likely she would not get better and were so compassionate to Grayson that it just touched me. I think they all grew up a lot by going through that experience together. One of the Scripture passages we learned each year really came to be our rock to lean on. We probably said it daily during that time - it comforted us so much. It talks about how we aren't immune to trouble as believers, but that God does know and He will deliver us - sometimes though in different ways from what we hoped. Here it is:
Psalm 34:17-19

17 The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them;
he delivers them from all their troubles.
18 The LORD is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
19 A righteous man may have many troubles,
but the LORD delivers him from them all.

When March 10 came,and God finally relieved Kathy's body of her pain and suffering, she left this earth after being surrounded by family and close friends, singing songs she loved, around her bed at home. Her sister-in-law called me that night, and we just cried together as she told me the struggle was over.
Grayson missed the next day of school and I had to share with the class during Bible time that his mom had died that night before. The kids' faces were so sad, some seemed surprised, and it was so quiet as I told them that God had decided Mrs. Kathy's life was over on earth. I got very teary and knew it was important that they still trusted God's hand in something that seemed so awful to us at the time. I asked, "So, do you think that God answered our prayers?" One by one, numerous kids nodded, and someone said, "Yes - he did what was best." It was a profoundly touching moment, where I really saw child-like faith in action, and I just sat there with tears flowing, and told them how thankful I was that they knew the truth. We again said our verses together and just spent a lot of time hugging that morning.
Grayson came back the next day and I'd warned the students to be careful with him - to let him lead us with the conversation. If he wanted to talk about his mom, we would. If not, we'd just say we were sorry and leave him alone. He came in almost as bubbly as ever, and several kids had made him cards, just of their own volition, and gave them to him. I heard many say, "We're so sorry about your mom, Grayson," and he'd just say, "Thanks." It was amazing. The next few days were hard, as we prepared for the funeral and tried to be normal in the class, and also very sensitive to the way the children handled the loss of a friend's mother.
That Saturday, my Mom, James and I went to Kathy's homegoing celebration. I have yet to be in any worship service that came close to matching the incredible praise that was offered that day. Numerous friends and family members spoke, a video of photographs and video clips of Kathy and Eddie were shown, even from as far back as their dating years when they were young teens. There was footage of her playing her guitar and singing, and I was so glad to hear her beautiful voice. We sang songs, praising God and the way He'd blessed so many with her life and testimony, giving heart and God-honoring example. The Gospel was shared and many were touched by the Truth that gave a family such courage during such heartbreak. I was blown away by the hundreds and hundreds of people whose lives had been touched by this lady, and it was a true testament to the beautiful life she'd lived. There's a lot to be said for grieving with hope, too.
Each year in late August I think of the day she went into the hospital and each March, I think of how she left her family at such a young age. It's a sad memory, but also one that shows God's incredible grace because of the way He's moved in her family even after her death. Eddie has remarried a beautiful, godly woman who loved Grayson and Kathryn as if she'd given birth to them. Kathryn probably will never remember much of her Mom, but Diane has done a lot to keep her memory alive in both children. It warms my heart to run into them occasionally and see how God continues to use them as a light to others. Kathryn is gifted musically like Kathy, and could hardly resemble her mom more. She sings specials in church, at the young age of 10, and I know she'll continue to be encouraged to share her beautiful voice.
When my own Mom was diagnosed with cancer last year, Eddie was one of the first people I told, because I wanted him to know that their experience was one of the only ones I had ever had with cancer, and it just meant a lot to have his concern and prayers. Our story ended so much happier, and we're blessed to still have my Mom with us today.
I could go on and on with this story, sharing quotes I kept from Grayson, questions he asked about his mom and heaven, and more, but mainly, I just want to say how our lives are such fleeting things and we never know how long we're going to have on this earth. We have to be careful to make the most of them and I wonder if we give much thought to the legacy we'll leave behind. To close, I have to share one of my favorite songs by Chris Rice.

Every day is a journal page
Every man holds a quill and ink
And there's plenty of room for writing in
All we do is believe and think
So will you compose a curse
Or will today bring the blessing
Fill the page with rhyming verse
Or some random sketching

Teach us to count the days
Teach us to make the days count
Lead us in better ways
That somehow our souls forgot
Life means so much
Life means so much
Life means so much

Every day is a bank account
And time is our currency
So nobody's rich, nobody's poor
We get 24 hours each
So how are you gonna spend
Will you invest, or squander
Try to get ahead
Or help someone who's under

Teach us to count the days
Teach us to make the days count
Lead us in better ways
That somehow our souls forgot
Life means so much
Life means so much
Life means so much

Has anybody ever lived who knew the value of a life
And don't you think giving is all
What proves the worth of yours and mine

Teach us to count the days
Teach us to make the days count
Lead us in better ways
That somehow our souls forgot
Life means so much

Every day is a gift you've been given
Make the most of the time every minute you're living