The kids were off school today. This morning I cut my hair just to trim the dead ends off. The ends were starting to get crunchy and I didn’t really feel like paying for a generic and typically mediocre haircut when I could just as easily do that for myself here at home. I actually kind of like it.

This afternoon we took a trip into town. My daughter had a lunch meeting with friends. While she was doing that the rest of us went to Barnes and Noble. I’d seen a Goodreads review of a book on Elisabeth Elliot. I have another book I’m starting called Foster by Claire Keegan. This was another recent John Blase recommendation. He said the author had put a spell on him. I decided I would give his recommendations one more chance.

If I don’t end up liking this one then I’m not going to bother reading any more of what he likes or recommends. Truthfully I am eager to get back to my own pet research projects and reading preferences for my own down time. I haven’t been looking forward to this semester as much as usual.

We’ve got class tonight and I haven’t done much of anything for it. There wasn’t really anything due so that was helpful. I will show up in my sweatpants, put in my time, and then come home. Thankfully too he usually lets us out early. It’s just that one harder teacher who doesn’t. I have her for an intensive but that’s a few months away. So it’s just the two 8-week classes right now: Research and Evaluation. Tests and Measures.

Josh and the boys went down to the lake again today. The past two days I have had him text me pictures. They weren’t out there as long and all came back with bright red cheeks. He and I are both nursing a cold so we’ve been taking turns with episodes of violent sneezing. Supper is on the stove.

Last night I should’ve ended with “so now I sleep” instead of “so now I wait”. To sleep is to imply that you are temporarily at peace and have let go of your cares. To be waiting is to still be wanting something. It’s true that’s where I was but it wasn’t enough to make it the end. Oh well. I woke up several times in the night, once because the room was cold.

I left around 10:45 from the parking lot and was home again around 12:20. I texted my dad to let him know, and my sisters, and my cousin, and my husband, and called my grandma again. Josh and the kids were out to lunch. When they came home I gave them all big hugs. I have a side to my personality that’s hard to show, these surges of happiness.

Surges of anything can overwhelm people. I started playing and singing Celine Dion while we were in Florida. I didn’t do it for very long. It was still pretty early and my cousin’s youngest daughter was still asleep on the couch. I was happy to be there, even under the circumstances. At first I had considered turning around and going back home.

I didn’t know what we were going to do. For months I’d had it in the back of my mind that I wanted to go down if/when Aunt Susie needed help. That’s what I was going down there for. There are things that went down in the end that I feel like should not have happened. She was upset about it too, acting as her own nurse even hours before she died.

Sometimes when our plans change we can look back and say, “Oh, if it had gone the original way then such and such would never have happened” and the story is spun with a glittering God-angle. Not that God isn’t constantly working things out all the time, but sometime his timing and reasoning remains hidden from our understanding and sight.

And in those times we walk by faith. My aunt is with the Lord and she is at peace now. I was trying just to be a sweet and comforting peaceful presence, not too vocal, not too loud, not flamboyant or with aims to rescue. Of my uncle and cousin and his family I thought, “Well these were her most special people in life. To love them is to still love her.”

But even that wasn’t fully it. They couldn’t just be special to me because of her. My uncle, my cousin, his family, they are special to me because they are special to God. Period. And over the past couple of years we’ve been blessed to have had more frequent connecting points in time which have allowed many of us to know each other again.

So all that to say, I’m glad we went. I had asked my cousin straight up on that morning, “Is it too much for us all to come?” He said maybe three might be too many. By then my aunt had already cancelled her plans. So that is when Jess went one way and Liz and I went another. We hugged and my uncle said when we left we’d gotten him off to a good start.

I didn’t quite make it home tonight. The wind was too bad and blowing the snow so I couldn’t see. It usually takes a little over three hours to get home from my sister’s house, but by about that time I was only halfway. People who were driving had their hazard lights on so everyone could see where the other vehicles were located. I followed behind a semi until I came to El Paso.

The airplane ride was uneventful. We had a different model this time and there seemed to be about 1-2 inches more of leg room on this one. Maybe it was because I was used to it, I don’t know, but the rows didn’t look as crammed this time. After landing we found the car and took turns cleaning it off. As I was clearing the snow so the car could back out, I kept thinking how not that long ago there’s no way I could’ve done this.

I miss my husband and my kids. Some time apart is fine but after a while you’re ready to be back. And what’s a hotel room without a bedmate or space overflowing with kids and bags? On the drive I called and spoke with several relatives via telephone. It’s supposed to drop below zero into the night and early morning. I decided it was best to stop for the night, so now I wait.

This afternoon my cousin, sister, and I went for a walk. One of their dogs was up at the house plus another dog that they are dog-sitting for over the week. Dogs sure seem like an awful lot of work. Three of my siblings have dogs now and I’ve caught only glimpses of all that is involved in caring for them and training them. This was the first time I think I’ve ever walked a dog.

Cats are a lot easier. Growing up that’s what we had after a series of emotionally based decisions by my mother. One day there was a free cat in the pet store and the rest is history. From there we enjoyed several litters and got attached to many of them, even getting to keep an entire litter at one point. Mom got attached to another one later. By the time we moved from New York there were six cats that needed homes.

My grandparents took all of them. Only one was allowed inside, but the rest had a home on their outdoor porch and four acres of land. My grandma has often told me the story of how I gave her two dollars before we moved telling her it was to put toward cat food and if she needed more to let me know. I don’t remember that but she never did ask for any more dollars.

It’d been about ten years since I’d been on a plane. I texted Josh after we’d boarded and told him it was just as awful as I remembered from the last time when I’d said there’s no way I’d do it again without some kind of calming medication. I had it with me but didn’t take it. When I started crying in my seat, my sister said, “Here Beck, get your blanket..” and she leaned over toward the floor to pull it out of my backpack.

The way they cram those rows together feels completely inhumane. Once we took off and got into the air I was more or less okay. When he and I had flown before our kids seemed way too young to have both of us die. But this time they were older and I had more peace that they’d be okay. My sister and I sat leaned up against each other while she read her magazine and I rested my eyes. I watched out the window.

We’ve had a good day of getting things done. Liz and I cleaned out the bedroom that used to be where my aunt took care of my grandpa. She had a counter full of medical supplies from herself and a closet of my grandpa’s leftover items in the closet. Whatever is unopened one is able to donate. Some of it my cousin wanted to keep. At least one garbage bag was filled from his room. They still have his ashes here.

My uncle had taken a video of my aunt about 7-8 hours before she died. She was giving pillows to her granddaughters and sharing her final words and testimony with them. It was beautiful to hear her share her faith with so much clarity and love. In a way it gave me some closure to have still been able to see her before she died. I wish that we had been able to make it sooner to be able to give her the care she’d given to others.

My uncle and cousin said she’d given them a list of end-of-life symptoms to look out for earlier that day. My uncle said they all came true. I know she would’ve loved to be here but maybe by now she’s forgotten those dreams. Everyone keeps saying it doesn’t seem real and how it feels like she’s just out at the store or should be in the next room. There seems to be a comfort we didn’t anticipate where our loved ones are never fully gone.

This morning we received a call from my cousin saying that my aunt had passed away in the night. It came as a bit of a shock even though we knew that things had not sounded good the evening before. They had just hired a full time nurse starting yesterday evening and I was eager to get down there so I could step into that role. When we found out she had passed there was some discussion that was needed to figure out how we ought to proceed with the day.

My other aunt didn’t end up flying down to Florida. One of my sisters who was supposed to fly with us drove to Kansas City in order to be with my other aunt. After talking more with my cousin and figuring some other things out, my other sister and I flew down this afternoon and landed around 4:25 eastern time.

We spent the evening with my uncle, cousin, his wife, and two girls. We are staying here at the house with the same plans to fly home Saturday morning. My cousin ordered Panda Express for supper and we passed around his phone so we could put in our orders. A few of us left to pick up the food and stop by Target. I picked up a pair of flip flops that I could wear if we go for walks. So far we’ve been talking and looking at pictures. After a while we all went to bed.

Last night the kids were looking at pictures on the computer. In the years we’ve been living at camp, I can’t believe how much they’ve changed. I looked through a few and when I saw this one of them at the beach I said, “Oooo, can you send that one to me?” But you can hardly even see us, my daughter said. “But I love those five little dots”, I told her.

I’d forgotten all about it until tonight when I opened my email. I usually scroll through looking for any messages I need to read, when I came to the subject line of Five Little Dots. It made my heart happy and I remembered again the picture. My son had also just sent a snap chat reply to my brother-in-law saying, “Can you tell her I said hi?”

“Was he saying that about me???”, I asked. And then I lost it because he was. Isn’t that crazy? How all he had to say was can you tell her I said hi and suddenly I felt so touched and I don’t know what. I know I’m emotional for other reasons but between the dots and the hi I was once again blessed. These loves of my life who were my world.

In all seriousness I’ve been feeling more and more somber the past few days. Since we made our plans to travel, the weight of the situation became all the more real. I’ve not exactly either been thrilled with the weather report that’s showing snow and windy conditions on both of the days we’re supposed travel. Tomorrow I drive up to my sister’s and my other sister drives down to her.

My other aunt has also made plans to come when we’re there. We’re hoping to be able to be a practical support for my aunt and uncle and cousin. The hospice nurse came yesterday to get everything started. You don’t consider when growing up how all these relationships are going to end. In all the moments adding up, you just know that they are family, and that these aunts of yours love you.

I spent the evening doing laundry and packing some of my bag. Classes start this week but I told one professor earlier I wouldn’t be there tomorrow and the one that was tonight I decided to skip at the last minute. I don’t know. I’m glad they’ve been so understanding. I do hope I get to come back and continue them. And so we all have made our plans. We’ll see what the Lord has in mind.

Over Christmas break I talked with my niece about the situation regarding what to call Casper. It was helpful talking to her. She and I were in agreement that Casper should be his name, but she could also understand my dilemma as I was clearly in the minority with the majority of family votes being cast for Dipstick. But something she said cleared everything up for me, so that my struggle and apprehension immediately vanished upon hearing her words. “You’ll just have to call him by his middle name,” she said.

So Casper is his middle name and that’s what I call him. He and Tom were in a fight during a walk today. I had sandals on and didn’t want to walk through the wet leaves but I did. Calling to them wasn’t doing anything. Cats will attack each other and bite each other to where some of them have had some pretty bad abscesses as a result of bite marks. I wanted to throw my glove at Tom, but he really wasn’t doing anything wrong either. They were being cats. I tried to get them mostly away from each other.

This afternoon I finished reading The Year of Magical Thinking. I was feeling bad that maybe I had spoken rashly about the book or been too hard in my judgements. The last third was probably my favorite and contained more of what I’d been wanting to read which was more personal commentary on the events of her life. If I get at least one memorable line from a book then I am usually happy. This one was found in the opening chapters. The rest of the book was fine, but no other lines topped this one.

This was in reference to her and her husband’s routine of walking every morning in New York City’s Central Park. She says, “We did not always walk together because we liked different routes but we would keep the other’s route in mind and intersect before we left the park (p.36).” I thought this was a beautiful line that spoke to the individual nature of persons (having/liking different routes) yet acknowledges the action of love in concretely knowing another’s way and making the effort to find each other en route.

This was much more romantic to me than the reel I saw on Instagram that said maturing in marriage is realizing that nobody cuddles when falling asleep, and that instead, one partner snores while the other scrolls social media until their eyes get blurry. Not to bash someone else’s marriage or content creation or attempts at humor. Reels sometimes can really make me laugh. Lots of people commented that they actually do cuddle with their husband or wife before falling asleep. I was glad they did.

I started reading a book called The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion. It’s a memoir written by a woman following the sudden death of her husband who suffered cardiac arrest one evening while eating dinner. Simultaneously she writes about her daughter who has been near death in the ICU at least twice since the book started. I’m a little over halfway through and not really enjoying it, but I’m in with it now.

The book came recommended a while ago by another author–John Blase? He’s one of those writers, who at one time, could take away my breath by the things he would say. So naturally I am curious to what kinds of things he reads and what books he would recommend. I have bought multiple books over the years that he has liked and recommended and have never liked a single one. I don’t remember where I heard of it.

The Bible talks about those who grieve yet have no hope. From what I can tell, the magical thinking spoken of is referring to the things our minds do to try and make sense of terrible things and insulate us from things that are in the moment too comprehend. For the believer these things are filled in for us, or at least we have something to set our mind to in the gift of God’s word. Many people do not have this.

The book is made up mostly of the chronicling of events in that detached and emotionless way one does at times when writing about something considerably jarring. The front cover contains a review that states, “Stunning candor and piercing details…An indelible portrait of loss and grief.” I tend to think there’s way too much flattery in most book review blurbs, though it could just be me. I am hard to please with these things.

Two of my sisters and I made plans to fly to Florida next week to visit my aunt. The report from my cousin is one of rapid decline. I’ve been trying to process the situation, both on my own and with other family members. These events have a way of revealing odd family dynamics that you knew were there but hadn’t necessarily seen in a while. But they also have a way of bringing people together in ways that set aside differences.

My son has a birthday today, the one born on Epiphany. Miles and Graham are here at the moment. They all just set up the game Ticket to Ride. I think Miles is staying for supper and coming to church. My mother-in-law will be here as well. Tomorrow Josh is planning to take Ethan back to school and if we end up squeezing it in I still want to give him a haircut before he goes. Our present for my son arrived in the mail this afternoon.

Yesterday after pulling into the Hae’s parking lot I had a moment of needing to process emotions. Sometimes processing is just living through it, stopping when you need to and then continuing on. This is life in a fallen world where family members pass and the Lord’s divine allowances don’t always make sense to our finite minds. But the gift of loss contains a greater appreciation of the present, of hugs and games and brighter things.