An Empty Chair at the Table...

Thanksgiving... in the midst of grieving... a hard grace to find gratitude when our hearts feel such a keen loss.

We have worked on Thanksgiving menus right alongside the planning of Dad's Memorial service.

It would seem that there is no slowing down time, nor stopping the world's spinning... Thanksgiving came whether we wanted to celebrate or not... This morning dawned grey, cold and rainy... kind of matched our mood to be honest.

Dean and Lisa graciously offered up their lake place for the gathering and the house filled up fast.

It's a testament to this family that there were more smiles than tears today!  Poppy would have been proud... and eaten way too much turkey!

There is a healing in spending time together.  A deep gratitude for the love of family and the gift of sharing the heartache as well as the joy.

The smiles were genuine.  The peace settling sure and sweet.

A Thanksgiving without Poppy came too fast... the Empty Chair at our Thanksgiving table was a painful reminder of all we have lost this season.  And I know we are not alone.

A dear friend sent me the following Thanksgiving poem earlier today.  It makes the rounds on social media every year during this hallowed season, but this year it is especially poignant for us:

So many have lost loved ones and struggle hard with the missing and the grieving every single day.  Holidays can add a layer of hurt that compounds the pain a thousand-fold.

This simple prayer turns us back to the One who is able to comfort our hearts when nothing else can.

The Psalmist speaks it well and offers a hope to sustain our faith when our grief seems impossible to bear:

I would have lost heart, unless I had believed
that I would see the goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living.

Wait on the Lord;

Be of good courage,
And He shall strengthen your heart;
Wait, I say, on the Lord!

                                      Psalm 27:13-14

God just smacked me upside the head and reminded me that He is here with us in the land of the living... just waiting to reveal His goodness.  Yes, even in the midst of the grieving and the loss... He has never left us.

The giving of Thanks begins when we open our eyes to every good gift from His hands.  And today was a very, very good gift.

My Love,

Always,

         Jane

The Hardest Goodbye...

Sometimes the words just won't come... We lost Dad a week ago, and still I cannot find ways to express the grief and the ache.

We have gathered together, held each other tight, and mourned... there is a void that will never be filled here this side of heaven.

And we have pulled out the old photos. Spent time pouring over the captured moments.  Laughing over old hairstyles and ancient memories.  Pictures of a life lived well.  Of Work and Sacrifice.  Laughter and Tears.  Of Family.  Of Grace... And most of all, pictures of an Abundant and Unmerited Love.  We have been so very, very Blessed...

David Michael Polly

September 15, 1935 - November 14, 2019

That smile...

I will miss it as long as I live.

Love you Dad,

Always and Forever.

Give Mom the biggest hug from all of us!

Walking out the Chaos in an Ordinary, Everyday Life

This month past has been hi-jacked by Chaos.

Pure and Simple.

Complete disorder.  Run amok.  Disheartening lows.  Crazy highs.

We moved into our long-dreamed-for Log Cabin  {Finally!}  With boxes piled high and scattered belongings in complete disarray, we can at last say, We are Home!

It's a happy chaos, this putting our life into order one messy box at a time... How we've longed for this day!

And within moments of crossing the threshold of that dream, the call came from nurses that dad was being rushed to the Emergency Room.

Breath coming in gasps, his COPD had flared and became life-threatening within hours.  Hours became days, stranded in the hospital, speaking in hushed whispers, living out of overnight bags and hanging onto each new report... Life in Chaos... striving for calm, but losing the battle as we struggled with the truth of this insidious disease.

I've decided that the clean, quiet, sterile halls of a hospital hide a frightening, scary, dark side.  Ordinary people are facing overwhelming news and difficult prognoses behind most every door we passed.   Throwing lives into turmoil...a miserable kind of chaos to be sure.

The roller-coaster ride of this COPD journey found us heading home with dad after a week of breathing treatments, heavy-duty antibiotics and LOTS of steroids.

The chaos of that week faded back into a grateful "normal" as dad found his smile (and his appetite... thank you prednisone!)  With thankful hearts, we hugged him hard and headed for a brief respite to recoup .. fall camping with friends in the hills of central Texas...

But the very next week found us back in the Emergency room with dad's breathing even worse than before.  Doctor consults, tests and IV's, the concerned murmurs... Chaos returned with a vengance.

COPD is an agonizingly slow descent into sheer panic.  The air hunger, the labored breathing, the subtle, sly loss of everyday activities we take for granted, the terrifying feeling of suffocating in the dark midnight hours... this is a chaos of the hardest kind.  Fighting an implacable disease that does not relent.

No winning. No cure. No Hope.

As dad's breathing worsened, his doctor gently approached us with the difficult news... there was nothing more that could be done to ease the ache in his lungs.

Air left the room.

We have long prepared ourselves for this moment, but there is no preparing...

Dad is transitioning into hospice care and our hearts tremble between an anguished grief for the road ahead and an intense relief that there is a comfort available for which dad is so desperate.

The hours and days to come?  A Hard Chaos that we are determined to walk out well.

We have been in this place before.

Mom walked it out almost 8 years ago, and Dad remembers well the compassion and grace offered by the hands of her hospice team.

Now, he faces the work of this last mile.

And we will be there each step of the way, he does not walk alone.  It is the prayer of our heart, the sacrifice of family from far and wide, that ensures he will be loved much in the days ahead.

That love can turn the chaos into peace... of that I am sure.

Resting in the God who makes order out of chaos and chooses to love us better than we could ever imagine.

That is Peace for tonight.