Yearly Archives: 2009

Lowering Expectations

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When I woke up this morning, I remembered Nelson’s words about expectations, how things turn out “bad” if our hopes are too high. Looking out the bedroom windows to make my morning weather check, I lowered the first expectation, because it was pouring rain. Although we’ve had some nice snow in recent days, today would be a sloppy mess. And as always, my second expectation has been permanently lowered, that of being with Nate on Christmas. It won’t happen again.

At breakfast, the head of the table where Nate normally sat was empty as the five kids and I sat opposite each other along the sides. We talked about him being missing, how odd it was, how unwelcome the change. Later, while opening gifts, we reminisced about a vacation spot we’d all loved since the kids were little: Afterglow Lake, Wisconsin.  Back in 1977, Nate found this family-oriented resort 355 miles from home that offered rental cabins near a stocked lake, each with its own row boat. There was swimming, a raft with high and low dives, sailing, canoeing, hiking, everything a young family with three little children could want.

Our first week there was a rip-roaring success, and as we left, we signed up for the following summer. That annual week grew into a month there each August, and we didn’t miss once in 25 years. After we bought the Michigan cottage, though, something had to be given up, and it was Afterglow. We missed it terribly but felt blessed by our time in Michigan each summer, near relatives of all ages. This Christmas, looking for an encouraging gift to give our children on a discouraging day, I decided to surprise them by reserving a week at Afterglow Lake in 2010. It’s been 10 years since we were there.

Under our tiny tree were envelopes containing coupons for a week at the resort, and hanging on the tree was an ornament that reminded us all of Nate’s leadership in that tradition. It was a cookie cutter framing a picture of Nate coming off the end of the Afterglow water slide, arms up, waving with enthusiasm and joy.

The “kids” opened their envelopes simultaneously, and their happy responses were gratifying. It was a good gift, better than anything that could have come wrapped in a box. We’ll look forward to our Afterglow week in September, throughout the months between now and then, but I plan to keep a leash on my expectations. It may turn out like our Macy’s dinner, a grin-and-bear-it event, because Nate won’t be with us. By then, however, we will have been without him for 10 months. One expectation I have is that time will have worked some significant healing in all of us.

After our gifts, we walked to the beach in a downpour. My thoughts wandered to the reason for Christmas Day, Jesus’ arrival on earth as a human being. I wondered if it was a difficult departure from heaven and all things divine? Did he grieve before accepting the confining limitations of becoming a human being? He could have said “no”. He didn’t have to do it.

Thoughts of gratitude flooded my mind. Jesus Christ’s coming to be the personal Savior of all who believe is a sky-high expectation he completely met. I thought of Nate, in his presence, learning the answers to those questions and many others that are, for us, out of reach. Nate is fortunate indeed!

Arriving back at the cottage, we were greeted with the smell of pot roast and a fire in the fireplace which was, once stoked, the perfect place to dry off after our soggy walk. Some napped. Some watched a Christmas movie. Some checked Facebook. We ate together. And Christmas Day came to an end, another “first without Nate.” Although I wish he was with us bodily as he was until November 3rd, my thoughts also focus on his current life of eye-popping wonder. I’m truly happy for him and all he’s discovering and can’t wait till I can be there, too.

“…Although [Jesus] existed in the form of God, [he] did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:6-8)


A Blue Christmas?

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Nelson’s “Theory of Grieving” is that I miss Nate the most during times when he would have been with me the most. In other words, during business hours, when he used to be gone anyway, I don’t miss him as much as on Sundays when we were together all day. Thanksgiving was hard, because Nate was always involved in preparing for and hosting that event. His absence was keenly felt, and sadness quickly followed. And of course our anniversary was a rough day.

I give credibility to Nelson’s theory. In the seven weeks since Nate’s death, it’s held true. Because of that, I wasn’t looking forward to our traditional Christmas Eve festivities in the Chicago area at my sister’s home. Each year we’ve had a Swedish smorgasbord there with the entire relation on hand, as well as a few close friends. Following that, we’d each hold an unlit candle, recite a short part of the Christmas story from Luke 2, and light our candles one from the other. The oldest person present concluded in prayer. After the serious part of the evening, the kids always put on a loose program of “talent” accompanied by whooping, hollering and clapping for each effort. And finally it was time for gifts, a $25 grab bag first, followed by presents for little-children-only.

Christmas Eve has always been well attended, and Nate has been part of every year’s celebration, until tonight. I knew it would be difficult for me and I was, in a sense, dreading it, a terrible thing to say about Christmas Eve, which shouldn’t be about me anyway.

This afternoon as I was wrapping the last gifts, a Christmas CD began playing “Blue Christmas” by Celine Dion. It’s a beautiful arrangement of an Elvis tune, and I like Celine’s version much better than his. Hearing it triggered a sweet memory of Nate from a few years back when we still lived in the Chicago area. I was coming up from the basement one evening in December, and he was heading toward it. Christmas music was playing on the stereo, and just as we passed each other, Celine’s “Blue Christmas” came on. He stopped. I stopped. He started singing the song in his own tone-deaf way, and on the spur of the minute, I put my arms up as if to say, “Wanna dance?”

Neither of us knows how to dance. We only do it at the weddings of our own children, when under pressure to do so. But right then and there, he put his arm around me and took my other hand in his, and we actually danced through the entire length of “Blue Christmas.” It was more of a shuffle than a dance, but he continued to sing til the end. It was a complete delight to spend those three minutes dancing, and when the song finished, we went back to what we were doing but with a new warm fuzzie in our memory banks.

Somehow this sweet remembrance of Nate set a good tone for today, and except for a few tears here and there, all went well. Although our two grandchildren are far away this Christmas, my sister’s six were on hand for the festivities, adding energy, joy and adorableness. The college kids were all home, renewing relationships, and the evening was filled with laughter and happiness. Even seeing Nate on an old Christmas Eve video tape was something good, not sad. Overall, there had been nothing to dread.

When we pulled back into the icy driveway at our Michigan cottage well after midnight, the lights of our Charlie Brown Christmas tree glowed from the front window. It was nice to be home. As for Nelson’s grieving percentages, I wasn’t sure any more, because Christmas Eve hadn’t been as difficult as I thought it would be.

“The angel [of the Lord] said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.’ “ (Luke 2:10-11)

Favorite Christmas Gifts

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Nate used to talk often about his favorite Christmas gift, received in 1955. His one and only wish as a ten year old was that he get a BB gun from his parents, but he knew it was nigh unto impossible. His folks were not “outdoor people” or hunters. Besides that, his mom was cautious and not big on letting children take risks. Their home was managed with efficiency and order. Nate knew it was a long shot but when asked what he wanted for Christmas, he answered, “A BB gun.”

When he saw the long skinny box under the tree on Christmas morning, he could hardly believe it. Even this year he talked with fondness of the feeling he had when he tore open the gift and saw exactly what he wanted. His impression was a mix of “They really love me a lot!” and “Oh boy, am I going to have fun!”

So how about this Christmas, 2009? It won’t be that much fun. Gift-buying seems out of sync with Nate so recently gone. I used to call him “Big Giver” because of his desire to give us whatever we wanted, and that included BB guns for all four of his sons. None of us are expecting a big gift-unwrapping session this year, but all of us have received an early Christmas present, something that couldn’t be gift-wrapped. Hans and Katy called from England to give us the exciting news that their expected twin babies are one boy and one girl! While God has been weaving together these two little lives, knowledgeable of every detail, we’ve been longing to know more about who they were. Boys? Girls? The information that Katy and Hans will be greeting a son and a daughter is a fresh blessing that’s brought us all great delight.

These two children, along with Linnea and Adam’s baby boy arriving in February, are gifts of life the Lord is bringing to our family to help us move from sadness over Nate’s death, to joy over new life. The timing is not accidental, and I appreciate God’s creativity in helping all of us in such a dramatic way. All of these babies were astonishing surprises, gifts of immense value. Nate’s cancer was a surprise, too, although it was not a gift.

This morning during my prayer time, the Lord reminded me of a blessing I hadn’t directly thanked him for yet. It has everything to do with Nate’s death and was actually hinged upon it. At several points during his adult life, he’d experienced spiritual dry spells, as so many of us have. Those times were frustrating for him and also for me, and I’d prayed passionately that God would open Nate’s heart and mind to fresh understanding of himself and his ways back then.

What occurred to me this morning was how abundantly God had answered my prayers! Nate is with the Lord now and no longer has to “live by faith and not by sight.” He’s living with the Christ he can actually see and talk with. His questions have been or are being answered, not just through the written words of Scripture but by the Lord himself, face to face. No more dry spells, not ever! He has received the fresh understanding I’d prayed for, with benefits beyond measure.

Thinking about that this morning was another early Christmas gift to me. And the Lord reminded me of something else, difficult to absorb but nevertheless true. In order for Nate to have been given the gift of no more spiritual dry spells, the gift of living in the Lord’s presence where a person’s understanding is expanded like never before, he had to go through cancer and then through death’s door. If I look at it this way, his cancer actually was a gift after all. That’s hard to believe, but it turned out to be Nate’s avenue to vibrant, fulfilled living such as none of us has ever known. And this is superior to any gift that could ever be found under a Christmas tree… even a much desired BB gun for a ten year old boy.

“If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better.” (Philippians 1:22-23)