Month: February 2010

  • Faith

    Faith

    Faith seems to play a big part in dealing with our grief. It even played a part in causing our grief.

    Faith in the medical profession was a big factor in Richard’s death. I’m sure the generic seizure medicine caused him to have his last seizure. We believed what they all told us – that generics were just the same as the more expensive name brand drugs. I’m sure Richard believed this. So he didn’t think it was all that important to go to his doctor to see if the switch to the generic was OK. But generics aren’t the same.

    We require faith to believe Richard is dead. We never saw him after he died. He’d been dead for several days before he was found, and he wasn’t in good shape. You’ve watched scenes on TV shows where the next of kin come to the morgue to identify the body. Well we didn’t have to do that. I didn’t want our last memory of Richard to be something ugly so I didn’t ask to see him, and they didn’t offer the opportunity.

    Who knows, maybe Richard is part of the witness protection program somewhere. But I also have faith that he would find a way to let us know if that was the case.

    And that brings me to the real biggy of faith – faith in God.

    Our faith that Richard is gone from this earth, but he isn’t gone. Faith that he lives on in the spirit world. Faith we’ll join him there when our time on earth is done.

    Faith that God has reasons for taking Richard back.

    Richard had a quiet faith. I didn’t hear him going around quoting Bible verses. Didn’t hear him preaching religion to his friends. But he showed his faith with his actions.

    On his last day of life he bought a new Bible. It was a large print version. Don’t know why he bought it. He had his Bible – a young adult oriented study version. It was well worn and used looking. Maybe he was going to give the new one to someone. Maybe he somehow knew he wouldn’t be needing it long, and I’d end up with it, so he got one my aging eyes could see better.

    Richard was a regular at our church youth group. They went to a ministry camp every summer. The picture above is Richard playing the part of Christ in a reenactment they did his last summer in youth group. Debbie told me she didn’t like that picture. The image of her son looking like that made her nervous. It was too real. But Richard had faith.

    And our faith that things we don’t understand have a reason, and we’ll know those reasons someday, is what let’s us keep it together now.

  • Perpetual French Fries

    Perpetual French Fries

    I don’t guess this really has that much to do with grieving, but it’s sort of amazing.

    In the week before Christmas I was on vacation. Debbie wasn’t, and since she works at our church, Christmas is one of her busy seasons.

    I went in to help her one morning with some stuff to get ready for the Children’s Christmas Mass. Around lunch time I was leaving to go home, but Debbie was staying on to work some more. I went to the local McDonald’s and bought some lunch for us. I left hers with her at her office and took mine.

    It was a pretty nice day for late December, so I took mine to the cemetery. I sat at the garden bench my aunts and uncles bought for us and talked to Richard and my mom while eating lunch. I went over in front of Richard’s stone and told him, “Here have some french fries.” I tossed a few fries on the ground at his grave.

    The picture above shows one of those french fries today.

    It’s been rained on several times. It’s been covered in snow at least twice. It has been in the sun, wind and nature for a month and a half.

    It’s still there.

    Bleached out, but still there.

    Wow.

  • Tree Thieves Strike

    Tree Thieves Strike

    Christmas was always a big deal to Richard. So we put out a Christmas tree at his grave and one at my mom’s grave which is located right behind Richard’s. We used live trees, intending to plant them somewhere later.

    They were in pots. We just dug into the ground and buried them up to the rim of the pot.

    I made a trip to the cemetery today. Where once there were Christmas trees there are now holes in the ground. The picture above is where our tree once stood.

    Our cemetery has a rule against artificial decorations. They allow an exception during the Christmas season. During Christmas we are allowed to place wreathes and other artificial decorations. At the end of January the artificial decorations must be removed.

    I never thought a real live tree would fall under this rule.

    But it seems my definition of artificial is much different than the staff of the cemetery.

    Very aggravating.

  • The Dream Fades

    The Dream Fades

    They say all good things must end. And so it seems to be.

    I had a dream a few weeks ago. It gave me a great sense of peace.

    The feelings from the dream were strong, but they’re fading.

    Lately I’ve been thinking about what it was like for Richard in those last moments.

    How long did it take? I have no idea how long he could have held on when those seizures took him over. Was it just minutes or hours?

    Did he have pain? I know the other two times he went into seizure he bit his tongue enough to give him bloody foam around his mouth. Biting your tongue hurts. What other pains could he have suffered in all the struggle?

    He was on the floor in the middle of the room. Did he fall? Or did he dose off there while playing video games or watching TV?

    And the worst thought – did he know what was happening? Did he feel fear? Did he know he was helpless and dying? Did he feel his life slipping away?

    I can only hope the seizures that trapped him in an unresponsive body also kept his brain from knowing what was happening to him.

    And the roller coaster ride continues.