Grieving Still

Yesterday I went to a memorial service for some amazing people I knew who tragically died in a plane crash. A mom and her two teenaged daughters lost their lives and the father clings to his life in a burn unit. Tragic loss is hard any time and for anyone. But this family was amazingly gifted, giving, selfless, and committed to the Church universal. This family was at the church whenever the doors were open. This family lived in a wealthy area where most kids went to private schools--they sent their girls to public schools to ensure exposure to diversity and just to support the public school system. These parents wanted to teach their girls to give voice to the silent, food to the hungry, hope to the hopeless, and help to anyone in need. This family made sure their identity was in their actions and not just their words.

I'm struck by my lack of ability to believe this has actually happened. I haven't seen them in about six months and if I'm honest I probably haven't thought about them either. Now that they're gone I realize what an example they were to me and to everyone who knew them. I can't believe I barely noticed it before. I had hoped that the memorial service would give me some closure, but it didn't. I don't know why. All it did was stir up in me a disbelief of the fact that they are really gone and a conviction to be the kind of parent Diane was to her girls.

I wish I was that kind of Christian who didn't have to think, "why did God let this happen?" I wish I could get over that thought and be comforted by the Great Comforter. I wish I could go immediately to the knowledge that God, in his great mercy, will heal the recovering father, the broken hearts of all of the friends and family, and even me. I'm not there yet. My heart is broken and all my mind will do is wonder why this horrible thing had to happen to such an amazing family.

Predicting Chaos

Sorry to be away so long, friends. My busy schedule and pregnant tiredness have kept me away too long. Even as I type this I am half asleep and wondering what I will write. I guess I will tell you about a vision I had today.

Some background: My brother is a single (for now), 30-something Spanish teacher who spends his summers seeing the world. Usually around this point in the summer I'm wondering what I was thinking not becoming a teacher! I digress. . . This summer he chose Venezuela as his destination and planned to meet up with some friends he had met online. He left in June and we heard from him a few weeks ago (or an alien that took over his body) about how he had fallen in love and planned to get married October 2. THIS OCTOBER 2!! Nothing like giving your family time to plan and save to come to your wedding! Anyway, he sent an email that sounded nothing like the brother I know and everything like a smitten, lovesick guy who swears he can't leave Venezeula without his true love. Did I mention that she doesn't speak English and pretty much nobody but Jason in our family speaks Spanish?

I come from a very large family. Some (my husband) might call us loud and sometimes obnoxious, but I call us fun and exciting. Semantics, I guess. Anyway, the flurry of phone calls, emails, research on travel arrangements among my family thus far has been funny in and of itself. My step-mother was concerned about my taking Gracie since it's a "third-world" country and all. She wrote it in an email, but she would have whispered it as though third world was a bad word if she was saying it to me. (Is it really considered a third world country? I don't know.) My mom has said the phrase "go through customs" so many times in the last two weeks, I'm getting suspicious about what she thinks she's going to bring back.

And so to my vision: Our families are meeting at some beautiful, outdoor restaurant on the beach; the mountains and crashing waves are our background. Jason introduces us all and we smile like we know what he is saying. Then he introduces her family to us and they act like they know what he is saying. Then there is a brief lull in the "conversation". Before it gets uncomfortable, my Dad starts making up Spanish words and speaking them with such authority that her family feels too bad to ask what he is saying. They say something back to him in Spanish and he keeps up with the fake Spanish words as if they are having an actual conversation. He won't tell us what he said--it's a private matter.

Then, my mom and step-mother want to throw their hats into the conversation ring. They turn to the fiance's mother or aunt and don't pretend to know Spanish, but feel like if they triple the volume of their regular speaking voice, they just might be understood. So my Dad is making up his own language and my mom and step-mom are screaming their lungs out and my soon-to-be sister-in-law is thinking that she has just joined loudest, most obnoxious family ever. Hopefully my husband can learn how to say to her in Spanish, "it's really fun and exciting to be part of this family."