Eleven years ago today, my Christian went to be with the Lord. In the days and weeks leading up to today I have experienced sadness, anxiety, dread and other complicated emotions. At the same time, some amazing things have been taking place in my life.
Last weekend I was baptized and yesterday, I made a commitment to New City Church. I have joined a small bible study group and made new friends! I have witnessed leaves floating through the sky and gently rocking back and forth before they land softly on the ground, fall reflections off of the Missouri River, smiles from people I have never met, comfort from friends and the supernatural comfort of Jesus Christ.
Christian at the ocean off of the Florida coast.
Yesterday, I watched a video by Cain called The Commission https://youtu.be/APATH3ea-D0?si=wblR-jf6Lob4hjfx and it filled my heart with joy as tears rolled down my face. There are clips of The Chosen in this video and seeing the smile on Jesus’ face and everything He did for us filled my heart with joy. The lines of this song are so comforting and gives me a renewed purpose in the face of loss. “Goodbye is not the end of the journey, the end of the road. My Spirit is with you wherever you go.” “Go tell the world about me, I was dead and now I live.” This song reminds me that Christian is with Jesus and I will see him again.
April from Kalispell drew this photo
Tears roll down my face after watching this video again. The smile on Jesus’ face and when he embraces those he loves just fills my heart with joy and hope that I will be in His arms one day. He was waiting for Christian with open arms and I know he is looking down from heaven and smiling as I begin my journey of surrender, service and fellowship. I love you son.
A few months ago, my therapist talked to me about holding two emotions at the same time. I have used this bit of wisdom many times and really began to apply it as the season changed.
My son, Christian, was born on October 12, 1993. He went to be with the Lord on October 27, 2014. As the leaves began to turn and show their brilliance in the sunlight against the backdrop of a deeper, blue sky, I felt two emotions at once. I felt joy as I witnessed God’s amazing creation and the miracle of changing seasons while feeling an ache in my heart. Memories flashed across the canvas of my mind – our last outing with Christian at Gibson Park with the golden leaves and cooler temperatures. I see his hand dangling over the side of his chair, holding a piece of bread for a goose to nibble on. I remember him not wanting me to leave his side and not understanding why he all of a sudden didn’t want me out of his sight.
On his birthday, I vividly remember the purple, yellow and orange leaves scattered all over the front lawn as I took photos of him by his birthday sign. I remember so much of what he said and did during his last few days on this planet.
In my other hand, I hold the remembrance that Christian is with Jesus. He is whole, his body no longer contracted and muscles no longer wasting away. He can breathe fully, he can run with his friends who also passed away from Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, and he is experiencing God in a way none of us will be able to until we go home.
How can my heart ache and be so full of joy at the same time? By knowing that God never leaves us and He cares about our grief, difficulties, anxieties and pain. I feel the grief down to my bones but yet I have hope. “Why are you in despair, O my soul? Why have you become restless and disquieted within me? Hope in God and wait expectantly for Him, for I shall yet praise Him.” (Psalm 42:11)
With God’s strength, we can hold two things at once – sorrow and joy, despair and peace, anger and relief, anxiety and hope. We need to give ourselves some grace to feel, slow down and look around at the miracles in our daily lives, miracles that are present even when our heart aches.
Today my oldest son, Christian, would have turned 31. He passed away almost 2 weeks after his 21st birthday. We are going to the cemetery to clean the headstone and set some gifts out for him. I am also going to take a pottery class, which starts tonight, in his memory.
Even though he had physical limitations, Christian enjoyed making homemade greeting cards, drawing, and working with all sorts of media in art class. When he was in high school, his art teacher nominated him for an award in honor of a Zach Culliton who also overcame his disability to create a beautiful painting of a fish. Christian’s name remains listed to this day.
Christian took a lot of time and effort in making the picture which earned him the award. It was a very exciting evening and so many of our friends and family showed up to celebrate. I even met Zach’s mother and she was very kind. Zach passed away not too long before I met her. I hope to see her again.
Christian was always focused on his abilities instead of his limitations. He made numerous Star Wars lego models, enjoyed doing puzzles, and put his best effort into everything he did. On one particular project when he was in high school, he had to draw a creature made from three different real animals or insects. He then did a ceramic rendering of it. I have it sitting on the table today to remind me of his beautiful art and to give me strength to step outside of my comfort zone for 6 weeks on Saturdays for a couple of hours. I really hope I enjoy it and that pottery will be one of my gifts.
Like many of the hand made greeting cards Christian made for me over the years, I want to make some beautiful pottery for him. I want to picture him smiling down from Heaven. My heart is heavy and I would rather have Christian here to bake his favorite chocolate cake and order him pizza for dinner. I imagine he is doing something far better than anything this earth could ever provide. Happy Birthday my dear son. I know you are having the best time building unlimited lego models and making beautiful pottery because in Heaven, you are not sick. I love you and miss you with all of my heart and soul.
This was drawn by my dad shortly after Christian passed away.
When most of us turn 50, we are not suprised to see grey hairs sprouting out, have more trouble getting up off of the floor, or be added to the AARP mailing list (I was not impressed with this one). What I was not expecting was losing my father. He passed away on November 16th after a lengthy illness and my heart will never be the same.
Dad had so many talents with hunting being one of his favorites.
During the weeks that followed, my husband was a huge source of support. One day when the grief was especially painful, Dave reminded me that as hard as it was to lose him, I had 50 years with him. This changed my perspective dramatically.
Dad and me when I was a little wee one
For 50 years, I had the most wonderful father I could ask for, a father that always took care of me and my sisters and molded us into what we are today. Some of the most wonderful qualities that I see in my sisters and myself are from him. I have so many wonderful memories that far outweigh the troubling times. Memories of camping, fishing, hunting, archery tournaments, watching Clint Eastwood westerns, goofing off around the house, going on vacation to Arizona and California and driving to many places throughout Montana.
Me, my sisters and Dad
There is so much I want to share but that would make this into a novel-sized blog post. Over the past few months, some memories have been more vivid than others. One memory is when my husband and I got married in 1992. My parents and my youngest sister drove up to Rapid City. At the ceremony, Dad looked so handsome in his Army uniform. As we were getting ready to walk down the aisle, I couldn’t move. I looked down and saw that he was standing on my dress! We both had a good laugh before Dad proceeded to walk me down the aisle to give me away to my future husband.
Another memory is from years before when I was a little girl. I decided one day that I was going to help with the laundry. I threw random clothes into the washer and a good portion of them were Dad’s. I let the water run in, threw in some detergent and grabbed the bleach, which I proceeded to pour directly into the wash. When Mom noticed what I was doing, it was too late. Dad’s jeans and some of his favorite button up shirts were covered with white spots. Needless to say, he was pretty angry! Strangely, I do not remember being punished, but seeing the disappointment on Dad’s face when he saw his clothes was punishment enough.
Dad hung out with me and my sons at the Lewistown fair years ago.
When Dad came to our house to visit during the later years, my husband nicknamed him “Hurricane John”. He would bring his things in and randomly set them all over the house as he walked in. Dad was always an early riser and he made no exceptions when he was away from home. He would wake up not too long after me (I inherited the same quality of getting up early) and he would talk like it was the middle of the day. We would sit at the table with our bibles and talk before I started getting my boys up. I am so blessed to have had those morning chats with Dad.
Dad, Christian and Drew at Lewistown Pioneer Days
After I developed a chronic health condition in 2017, I was unable to travel the 109 miles to see my parents. A few months before Dad passed away, I was able to make the drive! I was able to visit with Dad for a few hours that trip and I was also able to make another trip less than a month later. I bent down and hugged him before I left that last time and it was the first time he didn’t get up from his chair to hug me. After he passed away, I had brief feelings of anger at not being able to see him as much while I was unable to drive down. I quickly replaced those feeling with gratefulness. The Lord’s timing is perfect and he healed me enough to be able to see him before he left us.
These memories, along with countless others, will give me comfort when I feel the loss in my aching heart. Those of us who are blessed to have known Dad and loved him will never stop noticing the hole in the world that symbolizes his passing, but the memories, oh the sweet memories, will make us smile.
This past week I listened to some great Christian music. The song that has been in my head is What Faith Can Do by Kutlass. This song started playing on my Pandora feed just when I needed to hear it. I was feeling some pain and loneliness as I thought about Christian and I was doubting my strength to do all God had given me to do that day.
We all come to places in our lives when we fall on our faces, face health issues or financial uncertainty, or we lose loved ones and face unspeakable heartache. This song is about rising from the ashes to find beauty, never giving up, and not being afraid to take that first step to make a new beginning. God is always by our side and He hears our prayers, even the silent prayer from the heart.
Our valleys may seem deep and unending but the sun will eventually shine. God gives us strength to keep going and because of this we are much stronger than we know. He helps us get through difficulties to get to the side of victory.
Faith gave me courage to get out of bed every morning of the first year after our son passed away. I barely had the strength to pray, but I still did even if it was a simple “God, help me!” Faith gave me the strength to continue caring for my family even though I thought the weight of grief would crush me. Faith helps us see the silver lining during a health challenge and gives us never ending hope. Faith can move the mountains in our lives if we trust God completely.
I hope you enjoy the video. I enjoy almost all of their music and this song will always have a special place in my heart.
Recently, I saw a story on the news about Andrew Lumish, a man who has spent the last 5 years cleaning headstones of U.S. Veterans in Tampa, Florida. His story touched a place in my heart because our oldest son is buried at Highland Cemetery. We have a family plot with a beautiful headstone so it gives me comfort to know that we will all be together out there one day.
My husband stopped by to visit our boy last week and noticed that the newly occupied plot behind ours was in disarray. They did not have a headstone yet, just a temporary marker along with some flowers and other sentimental items. We also had a temporary marker on ours for months as headstones are very costly. Most of the items, along with the marker, were laying down flat like the caretakers just ran over them with a mower. Dave walked over and fixed it so the family wouldn’t find it in such a state. I cannot imagine how I would feel if I went to the cemetery to visit our boy only to find that someone destroyed everything.
There were some young men doing groundskeeping while Dave was there. He said that they were talking very loudly to each other over the headstones and swearing a lot. This made me very sad. I go to the cemetery for peace and comfort and obviously this was not the day to go. I only hope that they respect the light saber, Star Wars figurines, and Darth Vader sign that we have at Christian’s grave.
As a teenager, I thought it was cool to go to the cemetery at midnight with my friends so we could tell stories and scare each other. I never disrespected any of the headstones but I also didn’t think about what a cemetery really is – a place where we can go to feel comfort, grieve, or even talk to those we have lost. I admit that I talked to Christian a lot more during the year after he passed away. Now when I go, I tell him how much I love and miss him and what we have been up to. I also spend time in silence. There are many magpies, western meadowlarks, robins and other birds who keep me company too. I don’t like the sight of bird droppings on the headstone but I like to think that they are watching over my boy.
Luckily, Highland Cemetery locks the gates at night. It is in the most beautiful area where the sky is big and the hills are rolling all the way to the horizon. I only hope that people will follow the example of Andrew Lumish and my husband and respect the graves of those who have passed on before us.
I went to Gibson Park today to go for a short walk. The breeze was blowing constantly, as it always does in Great Falls, but it felt invigorating. As I walked on the oval path around the park, I heard baby chickadees above me as I passed under a tree, saw several squirrels prancing across the grass, and I heard yellow warblers and an American goldfinch.
First he peeked around the corner at me.
He stood next to me for a few minutes.
Afterward, I took a seat on a bench on one of the docks over the pond and watched the waves ripple across the water and the geese and ducks gently float past. After a few minutes, I noticed movement in my peripheral vision. First I saw a tiny head and then the neck and body of a Canadian goose. It was comical because it was like he was peering around a corner to see if I would notice him. Even after he realized that I did not have any food, he stood next to me to look out over the pond. He was so close to me that I could see his brown pupils and the softness of his elongated neck. Occasionally, he would turn around and peacefully observe me. I found this to be very comforting because up until I arrived at the park, I was having a difficult day. I truly believe that animals just get it – they know when we need comfort. I am not just referring to dogs – this is the reason why they are “man’s best friend.” I also mean birds, horses, rabbits, and many other furry critters.
Christian had a zebra finch named Kiwi for several years. Kiwi was a ornery, wild, little fella and Christian would park his wheelchair next to his cage every evening before we covered his cage up with his blanket. He referred to Kiwi as his best friend because he was always there. I think that Kiwi waited to die until the year following Christian’s passing because it would have broken his heart. It was a comfort having Kiwi around after our boy passed away because it gave us a tangible connection to Christian. A few days before Kiwi passed away, he kept hopping to the front of his cage and he would park right under the door and wait for us to come in and pet him. It was so strange because Kiwi was always very wild and didn’t want us to get too close to him. I think it was his way of giving us comfort before he died.
In the months following Christian’s passing, several rabbits hopped onto our back deck and they would sit right in front of the sliding glass door, sometimes looking inside. A few days before Christian passed away, there were close to 20 Eurasian collared doves on our back sidewalk. I have experienced a great amount of comfort from God’s critters over the last few years.
At Christian’s graveside service, we released doves. Our youngest son was able to hold one of the white doves, Sirius, before he released her. He was then able to open the lid on the basket so the rest of the doves could fly out. I first read about the doves in a newspaper article about the funeral services of Deputy Joe Dunn, who was killed in the line of duty. They released doves at his graveside service and he is buried just down the slope from our boy.
God gave us animals for comfort and companionship. Whether it is a cat, dog, parakeet, or birds at our feeder, if we take notice we will see that they really do care about us.
The year after Christian passed away was extremely painful, but thanks to the strength and comfort of God, we made it through a day at a time. Dave’s job became extremely demanding in the following month after we lost our boy. He went with the flow for the next several months but by summer, working 14 hour days was not enough for the company, so he had to leave. The following September, Dave suggested I call the company that I worked at before leaving in 2005 to care for the boys’ increasing needs. I called them, dropped off my resume, and everything fell into place. I was terrified because I had been out of the work force for so long but I was also thrilled and very thankful for the opportunity to work for my family again.
About a week into my return to work came the first anniversary of Christian’s passing. Dave suggested that I go to work because the distraction might be good for me. I lasted about five minutes. Over the first few months I experienced a lot of nervousness each morning before I left for work and I started to experience slight anxiety when I performed certain job duties. I thought nothing of it because all jobs come with stress and anxiety. By summer, my anxiety increased and depression started to weigh me down. I started becoming emotional about things that normally would not make me so upset. I began to worry about the most ridiculous things, which fed my anxiety.
I took the second anniversary of Christian’s passing off along with what would be his 22nd birthday. I spent the greater part of that fall in a state of sadness as I remembered the days leading up to his passing. By Christmas my emotional problems worsened and the anxiety led to panic episodes the following spring. I took a few days off and started seeing a counselor. This slowly started to help and I really thought I was going to start feeling like myself again.
About two months later, I started to experience tightness in my neck. I associated it with ergonomics at work and tried carrying things differently, sitting up straighter, etc.. By fall, my neck worsened and the spasms set in. I kept working hard and doing everything I could to keep up with the workload. I also started acupuncture and massage therapy. My condition worsened to such an extent that I was having trouble eating, driving, and putting my makeup on. I did not receive a diagnosis and treatment until March of this year. I was confident that the treatment would help and things would go back to normal again.
The first set of injections only made my condition worse and I had to take a month long medical leave. Before I requested the medical leave I had a major panic episode and my good friend and neighbor stayed with me for a few hours. Before she dropped me off at home she looked at me and said that “my kettle blew.” She said that at the botton of the kettle was grief and stacked on top of that was my illness, worry for my son and husband, and the stress of my career. She said I needed to deal with the loss of my son by joining a grief group and learning about the stages of grief. It was at that point that I realized that I hadn’t been grieving since I returned to work. The fear, anxiety, and massive change I went through interruped the grieving process. I ended up leaving my job shortly after my medical leave.
It is easy to associate depression with loss – losing a child is devastating and I experienced days and moments of sadness that I thought would crush me. Ongoing depression that does not let up, however, is a sign that a person is not grieving in a healthy way. I had days that were harder – the pain felt more raw and I would cry, but I really thought I was moving forward and healing from the loss. There was so much going on in my life, so much change, that the grief and pain ended up buried underneath of it all. Unfortunately, it took an illness to open my eyes and see that I still have some grief work to do. Perhaps this blog post is a way of moving forward.
It may seem easier at the time to run away from the pain, bury it by keeping busy, or to tell everyone we are fine, but in the long run it can have devastating effects on our emotional, physical and spiritual health. I encourage you to reach out to friends, family, your pastor, grief counselors, or write it all down in a journal. Don’t bury your pain. Go through it so the pain doesn’t end up being wasted. Perhaps making it to the other side of difficulties makes us stronger so we can in turn help others who are hurting. Christian was my son, friend, and my teacher. I love him too much to waste the pain of losing him.
My grandmother, Joan Juanita Peterson, was laid to rest last Saturday. When we walked into the funeral home, one of the first things I noticed was her casket – pine green with gold pine trees along the edges. The first thing that came to mind was, “that matches her.”
Once we were all seated and the pastor started the services, the first of 3 songs started playing that grandma had picked out months before – all classical pieces. As I sat next to my dad with tears streaming down my face, I remembered the cassette tape she gave me when I was younger. It was by Mantovani. At the time, I was listening to Duran Duran and Bon Jovi but I remember enjoying and appreciating the cassette in private. I wish I would have kept it. The pastor shared great stories and memories of grandma and my heart ached for her three sons as well as my sister. Sherry took care of grandma in her later years, mending fences and roofs, painting, and replacing floors. She always bought grandma cotton candy at the fair. She also took care of my grandma in her final days until the end.
The graveside services were beautiful – warm weather, blue skies with soft clouds drifting by, and cows quietly grazing in the distance. I commented that it was a beautiful place to be laid to rest. The funeral director agreed, saying he also enjoyed going up to the cemetery for moments of peace at the end of the day.
At the end of the services I gently patted grandma’s casket and told her I loved her. There is a beautiful crab tree in bloom right over grandma and grandpa’s grave and it was full of pink flowers. I plucked one of the blooms and set it on her casket before I walked away to join my husband and son.
Everyone was hungry at the luncheon and I was humbled by the church and everything they did to help my family. They provided a huge table of food and a kind woman plated up my mother’s food so she could keep both of her hands on her walker. My two-year old nephew, who has also been diagnosed with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, ran around the church basement in his little suit with a mischievous grin on his face. Despite the sadness in my dad’s heart, this little fella did not fail to make Dad smile.
That evening a storm rolled in. When the rain started to fall a double rainbow formed. It stretched from the edge of the Judith Mountains to the front of the house. Over the edge of the mountains, lightning started to strike. The Judith’s took on an otherworldy, orange color and they lightly glowed in the setting sun. The closing of the day we said goodbye to grandma could not have been more beautiful.
The next day, my son said “Mom, the lightning was there along with the rainbows because great grandma was sassy.” Well said son, I thought. I cannot think of a better closing to the great novel of my grandma’s full life. You have inspired me to live more, love more and fear less; to be bold and be myself; and to refuse to take a backseat in life. Rest in peace grandma – you were a warrior and an artist who painted the most vivid picture of life.
In the book, One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp, I am on gift number 548. I started writing down God’s gifts last fall. I have asked myself repeatedly why I haven’t reached 1000. I admit that over the last year I have had a tendency to complain instead of offering praise to the Lord for His many gifts.
I did not fully understand the meaning of bittersweet until we lost our boy. He suffered for the last year of his life and I felt relief (for him) mixed with profound heartache (for me) when he passed away. Christian spent the last year of his life tilted back in his wheelchair to relieve his chronic pain. He was able to read books on his iPhone because it was so lightweight and he played video games for limited amounts of time every day. He lost the ability to play video games the night before he passed away. He drove into the kitchen, held up his hands and said “Mom, my hands are not working.” He didn’t want to be resuscitated or to live with a breathing tube and he hated hospitals. Christian told me weeks before his passing that he wanted to die at home, in his own bed with his bird, Kiwi, in the room.
The pain we endured during the weeks and months that followed was unimaginable. How was it possible that I experienced joy when I looked at the sky as it turned red and orange at sunset? Why did everything look so much more beautiful after I lost my son? It was like a layer was peeled away from my soul and everything that looked beautiful before now brought tears to my eyes.
Being thankful makes the pain more bearable – the pain of losing a loved one, of the violence in the world, the constant stream of negativity in the media – the pain of living in a broken world. God gives us little presents each and every day and if we open our hearts and our eyes we will find them: the chitter of a chickadee, the glint of sunlight on a soapy plate, steam rising from a hot cup of tea or an unexpected call from a loved one.
I have so much to be thankful for and I am making more of an effort to focus on blessings instead of burdens. The Lord has given me strength to put one foot in front of the other on days when the loss feels fresh, He has blessed me with a loving husband and son, with an accessible home for Drew, a wonderful job, and a long awaited trip to California this past summer (thanks to my sister who came up from Wyoming to care for Drew). God continues to bless us with His love, grace and healing. He blesses me with the guidance and strength contained in His Word each and every morning. As we thank the Lord for His goodness we become lights in a dark world and we give hope to those who are suffering.
The road less traveled 