Victory in Jesus

Saying goodbye is a process. I have friends who are still mourning loved ones a year, three years, even longer after they've passed away. A new friend in church, a decade younger than me, but a mama of five, lost her dad eight days before I lost mine. We bump into each other and compare notes, shorter than any other conversation, because words aren't needed when the same story is in our eyes.

It worked out well that Buck's mom rented a car. We were able to load the boys (puppy included) and luggage in one car, girls and music in the other. Buck split for my sister's house, we ladies made our way to the church.

When we walked in, my brother was on stage working through his message. We spotted dad's youth pastor, Jose, in the auditorium and exchanged greetings and hugs. I looked at my brother, who looked pretty comfortable up there behind the pulpit. Jose shook his head saying, "And he says he's not a preacher." He sure looked and sounded like a preacher that day :)

Our girls did their soundcheck, got all their mics and monitors worked out, and then we wondered what to do next. Because a box of all the things that were supposed to go on dad's memorial table were already there, the girls, my brother, and I just started setting up. We brought Buck's art easel for the giant picture my brother printed out. We set out a Hebrew prayer cloth (hopefully the right way up), dad's stoles for preaching and weddings, his Bible, his AA handbook, and eventually a pair of sailboats and a cross-stich I made him that said "Preach the truth no matter what." My mom loved the *beauty in a burlap sack* flower arrangement from Buck's aunts and cousins. We didn't realize they had sent it, but it fit the earthy, simple story that dad's memory tells. I think the urn mom picked out is perfect, sandstone depicting the poem Footprints in the Sand.

By the time the funeral coordinator for the church arrived, we'd already hauled in the abundance of beautiful flowers. We'd set up the entryway with dad's service program (my brother did a BEAUTIFUL job printing these), flowers, and guest books. I think the funeral lady was a bit flustered, "We don't usually have the family set up," she said confusedly :) In the end, she didn't even charge our family for use of the church, since I guess we did most of her and her helpers' job.

But, that's how our family rolls. We see a need, we meet a need, we have a strong opinion about how that need should be met ;)

After the church's pastor introduced our family and prayed, Buck's time came to deliver the eulogy. He struggled at the really emotional points, but he gave such a heartfelt and loving remembrance of my dad. Tears and laughter, just the right mixture on such a sad, but joyful day. Here is the text of his eulogy (I edited out some of the personal details) . . .

In Job 14:5, the Bible says, “Since his days are determined, the number of his months is with You [God]; and his limits You have set, so that he cannot pass.” In His great wisdom and kindness, God chose July of 1950 to start the days of Barry’s life. His life served a purpose for a very specific season carefully planned by God.

Barry grew up in farm country. He graduated from a small town high school in 1968. Several years later, he completed his college degree. He married Sharon less than a decade later, and they began their family. Later in life, God called Barry into full time ministry and he received his Master of Divinity from D Theological Seminary. These details and more are in your program. They give an outline of the life Barry lived, but they cannot possibly describe the person Barry was.

As a child, he was . . . rambunctious. There’s the story of Barry using his brand new bb gun to shoot his mother in the keister as she leaned over to do some garden work. That story always gets the grandkids giggling. If Huck Finn had moved into the neighborhood, he and Barry would have been best friends.

As a young man, he was . . . adventurous. His high school friends and fraternity brothers could tell you stories of their antics, like the time they all convinced a friend he was sick just by taking turns telling him he didn’t look well. The unfortunate buddy actually went to a doctor to be checked out! (Barry wasn’t always proud of these stories).

As a father, he was . . . always finding ways to make childhood more fun, and maybe a *smidge* more dangerous. In the winter, he’d take the kids ice skating . . . sometimes with actual skates and sometimes spinning them across a frozen lake in his blue pick-up “ThunDAR the Wonder Truck.” In the spring, Barry brought home a steady stream of pets for his kids, like a basset hound, bunnies, goats, and even a baby sheep or two. In summer, Barry could picture himself piloting a gondola in Venice as he puttered down the river in his metal canoe—with outboard motor. In the fall, rides on a 40 foot rope swing, rigged in a tree brought small passengers gasps of terror and delight. The way the cousins tell it, that ride swung way too far over the cliff above the old railroad track (and sometimes into the tree itself). In every season, Barry taught his kids to love Jesus, God’s Word, and naps.

As a community member, he was . . . interested. He spent hours listening to farmers talk, shooting the breeze in his little coffee shop/gas station/restaurant/bait shop—The Trading Post. He enjoyed people and their anecdotes, and he loved collecting and redistributing stories!

There are so many more examples I could give, and you could probably add dozens yourselves, but that was all before I knew Barry. To me, Barry was more than my father-in-law. He was a real example of God’s love, and the best person I can think of to show me how to love my own kids.

I met Barry in Southern California in 1999. I was interested in his daughter, now my wife, but I didn’t know it yet. The first things that stood out to me were his big, bushy mustache and very strong hands; you don’t forget a handshake like Barry’s. He seemed more “biker” than “pastor.” In fact, when it came time to ask for permission to marry Jess, he said ominously, “Yes, but if you hurt her . . . I know people.” As I got to know him, I saw how much he loved his children and how much he cared about the people who were in his life.

So, as my father-in-law, he was . . . accepting. I didn’t meet him until I was 23 years old, but he became my dad. To me that means someone who prays for, cares for, hurts for me like I was his own child. Barry walked Jess down the aisle, then he switched from his dad clothes to his pastor clothes and pronounced us husband and wife (in fact, Barry wed several couples in our family; it’s nice having a pastor “on call” J) When the unique opportunity to travel to my family’s cabin in the mountains of Colorado presented itself, Barry could hardly get there fast enough. No electricity? Yes! No running water? I’ll get a pail! Bears and mountain lion cub cries? Okay kids, back to the cabin! Barry’s double taste of mountain man life, trout fishing in a beaver pond, chasing horses through the meadow, eating big meals (with plenty of salt) cooked on a woodstove—fed into his love of adventure.

Hunting. Hunting is another way we connected. Getting up early, heading to the blind with CJ and our kids, harvesting a deer or two and bringing them back for the family Huntsgivingmas, always seemed more epic when Barry retold the story. He had a way of finding excitement and catching everyone up in it with him. I am so glad that Barry shared his generations old shooting tips with us; that is the kind of memory I want locked in for a lifetime. God knew someday a former knucklehead like me would meet a former knucklehead like Barry, so He built ready-made connections like hunting, fishing, the mountains, the ocean, and the celebration of good food into our backgrounds. I’m so thankful Barry accepted me, a guy who mostly grew up outside of the church, because he recognized and firmly believed that in Christ our Father is the same. It is quite a family tree, and that reminds me . . .

As a grandpa “Papa” Barry, he was . . . entertaining. Sure, a swing set with a slide is fun. But a swing set with a garden hose running down the slide into a pool of water is even MORE fun. Mule driving school sessions often commenced with drivers FAR too young to be behind the wheel. It ended with sound-effect-based skill critiques (maybe a “ding” for well done, and an explosion for “needs more work”)—these are funny moments the grandkids will never forget. Barry loved to write (never mind his spelling, another similarity we share). Sometimes unexpected letters arrived in the mailbox addressed to “Businesswoman Granddaugther” or “Nobel Prize Winner.” Inside these mysterious letters, Barry wrote the kids in the voice of different characters, sometimes including cash prizes, and always carrying a lot of laughter in small envelopes. He certainly kept the grandkids on their toes, wondering what goofy thing grandpa might do next. Once when he was chopping wood with my son, the axe head fell off the handle mid swing. Barry looked at the empty stick, then at the sharp chunk of metal next to his foot, pursed his lips, and said, “Hmmmm.” That was it. Steady as the day is long and always seeing the humor in the unexpected. To his grandchildren and others, Barry was an example of faithfulness, generosity, and such a great listener.

As a pastor, he was . . . inviting. Whether he could talk you into dinner at the Chinese buffet (he did love a good Chinese buffet, or a bad one, it really didn’t have to be good) or a cup of coffee at a local dive, Barry ministered in his every day way to everyday people. He was also obedient. He loved God’s Word. He believed every word was true, and he knew that God changes lives. Barry liked to preach on Sundays in the power of the Holy Spirit, trusting God to tell his audience what needed to be said. He loved the stories of Enoch, Gideon, Noah (I assume . . . I mean, he did have a boat J), Hosea, John the Baptist, and Paul. Now he’s hearing those stories firsthand from the men themselves, and you know how Barry loves a good story.

I never expected to be in the room when God called Barry home. I thought we’d all have years of sitting under his teaching, directing our steps toward the Lord. I will miss that every day. Every time something difficult comes up. Every time I feel like I just wish I could hear his voice, just ask him to pray for me. I will miss his prayers; I know he prayed for me, and for all his family, and so many others, faithfully.

Barry completed the mission God gave him in July 2019. He’d spent nearly eight weeks in the hospital in three different states working through a combination of leukemia, diabetes, several strokes, and eventually a heart attack. His body was used up. But he kept preaching! He kept teaching God’s love in Jesus’ name to every doctor, nurse, visitor, family member, friend, every person who walked through the door. He took his ministry seriously, and preached God’s Word continually.

Barry fulfilled his mission; he wanted to go to heaven. He wanted to see his Savior face-to-face. His heart echoed the Psalmist when he wrote, “My times are in your hands” (Psalm 31:15). May that be both a glorious challenge and a heavenly comfort to every person in this room.

Next up, my brother delivered his Gospel-centric, you are a sinner, but God loves you anyway, what are you waiting for, why am I telling you this, come to Jesus, please! message. He seemed so grown up, in my big sister eyes. He ripped my heart out when he asked if someone knew the cure for lung cancer, would they withhold it from him? Then why would he withhold the cure to sin and death apart from God from you? It was a good word from my brother. Praying that it hit the hearts of all the young men from my brother's trap team, who arrived in uniform to support their teammate in his time of loss and grief. Praying that it touched the hearts of family and friends who knew my dad and what he stood for, what he believed, what he desired to share with every person he met. The service was for my dad, but the focus was on his Savior.


I don't know if funerals have segues, but if they do, my brother did his just right. Earlier in the week, my mom chose the song "Well Done," for our girls to sing. The reference comes from Matthew 25:21-22. I, along with everyone else I spoke to, thought the girls did a lovely job. They've never sung in that large of a space to that many people, and never in such an emotionally intense situation. Here are the lyrics to the song (by The Afters) . . .

What will it be like when my pain is gone
And all the worries of this world just fade away?
What will it be like when You call my name
And that moment when I see You face to face?

I'm waiting my whole life to hear You say

Well done, well done
My good and faithful one
Welcome to the place where you belong
Well done, well done
My beloved child
You have run the race and now you're home
Welcome to the place where you belong

What will it be like when tears are washed away
And every broken thing will finally be made whole?
What will it be like when I come into Your glory
Standing in the presence of a love so beautiful?

I'm waiting my whole life for that day
I will live my life to hear You say

Well done, well done
My good and faithful one
Welcome to the place where you belong
Well done, well done
My beloved child
You have run the race and now you're home
Welcome to the place where you belong

What will it be like when I hear that sound?
All of heaven's angels crying out:
Singing holy, holy, holy are You, Lord
Singing holy, holy, holy are You, Lord
Singing holy, holy, holy are You, Lord
Waiting my whole life for that day
Until then I'll live to hear You say

Well done, well done
My good and faithful one
Welcome to the place where you belong
Well done, well done
My beloved child
You have run the race and now you're home
Welcome to the place where you belong

Well done 


Oh my heart.

My nephew read Psalm 25 . . .

To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.
² O my God, in you I trust;
    let me not be put to shame;
    let not my enemies exult over me.
³ Indeed, none who wait for you shall be put to shame;
    they shall be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous.

⁴ Make me to know your ways, O Lord;
    teach me your paths.
⁵ Lead me in your truth and teach me,
    for you are the God of my salvation;
    for you I wait all the day long.

⁶ Remember your mercy, O Lord, and your steadfast love,
    for they have been from of old.
⁷ Remember not the sins of my youth or my transgressions;
    according to your steadfast love remember me,
    for the sake of your goodness, O Lord!

⁸ Good and upright is the Lord;
    therefore he instructs sinners in the way.
⁹ He leads the humble in what is right,
    and teaches the humble his way.
¹⁰ All the paths of the Lord are steadfast love and faithfulness,
    for those who keep his covenant and his testimonies.

¹¹ For your name's sake, O Lord,
    pardon my guilt, for it is great.
¹² Who is the man who fears the Lord?
    Him will he instruct in the way that he should choose.
¹³ His soul shall abide in well-being,
    and his offspring shall inherit the land.
¹⁴ The friendship^[b] of the Lord is for those who fear him,
    and he makes known to them his covenant.
¹⁵ My eyes are ever toward the Lord,
    for he will pluck my feet out of the net.

¹⁶ Turn to me and be gracious to me,
    for I am lonely and afflicted.
¹⁷ The troubles of my heart are enlarged;
    bring me out of my distresses.
¹⁸ Consider my affliction and my trouble,
    and forgive all my sins.

¹⁹ Consider how many are my foes,
    and with what violent hatred they hate me.
²⁰ Oh, guard my soul, and deliver me!
    Let me not be put to shame, for I take refuge in you.
²¹ May integrity and uprightness preserve me,
    for I wait for you.

²² Redeem Israel, O God,
    out of all his troubles.

And then Jose gave part of his testimony and shared about the extent of my dad's ministry at his church in California. I truly hope that God allows Dad to see all the ministry connections, the seeds he planted over 69 years of life, the souls that are on the path of righteousness now in some small way due to Dad's reflection of God's love. I bet he's having a great time in heaven :)







After the service, we all stood and greeted those who attended and wished us their condolences. It was often hard to put a face with a dozen background possibilities (especially those that were as many decades older to me as I was to them :) 

The biggest surprise was my high school math teacher--I remember her being much bigger and more intimidating :) She said, "Do you recognize me?" and then all the junior and senior year math memories came flooding back. I've often told my kids and Buck the story of getting a lower grade in math because this teacher thought I was making faces at her in class. What she didn't realize was that I was making English-major-to-be faces of utter confusion and perplexity which was my constant mental state, so it couldn't help but show on my face! 

I introduced Buck, and he said, "OH you're THAT teacher!" Ha! I told her that I would be teaching pre-algebra, algebra I, algebra II, and trigonometry/precalculus all this year. How's that for math-complishments?! At the end of the greeting line she told Gabby, "Your mom is very nice. I understand why she made the faces now, and I forgive her." But she still didn't invite me to her 50th wedding anniversary party like she did my sister (who won her a golden apple teaching award and made her reconsider retirement after I graduated :)



There were lots of flowers to unload at my mom's, where we mostly all went for food and family time after the service.








The kids took a break from the arctic indoors to swelter in the humid outdoors. I mostly stayed inside and tried to do selfies with my nephew. He's so much better at it than me :) Also, Graysen and Grandma J got to recreate a little of G$'s childhood with a special ride through the living room, ha!



So many beautiful flowers! My cousin Martin accidentally bounced a big ball into them. He carefully tried to put the petals he'd knocked off back in place :) It was fun to try to use my basic sign language skills to chat with him. I know he understood some of it! He even told his mom he had fun and wanted to come back for another visit. It was good talking with aunts, uncles, and cousins who live far away. It was good to share laughter and memories. It was good to retreat back to my sister's house and not have to drive home after that emotionally draining day! And my kids were thrilled to find Aunt J really does have a house! We hadn't been inside for more than half a decade! ;)

Grumpy Day Update

I will get my memories about last weekend on the blog, but in the meantime, here are some updates from my very grumpy, frustrating moments last week.

1. The air conditioner managed to keep up for two whole days (the outside temps didn't reach above 80 and there was no sunshine). It was positively chilly in here :) I decided to try turning the air down lower than normal to see if the house would stay cool. I sort of forgot to lower it more today when it is actually hot and sunny out. I guess I'll better test my theory another day (it is two degrees behind currently, the usual is five).

2. My vacuum is fixed!! Yay for parts that arrive sooner than expected!! Buck also got the Nitro fixed, the hydraulics in the rear hatch had failed so it took two people to unload groceries (one to hold the trunk open :) Buck's been driving the Nitro since his car is making a weird humming sound. We'll get that fixed this fall . . . and the van with its four impact points (I need the sweat dripping emoji face here).

3. School planning . . . non-stop for two days! Yesterday 12 hours, today . . . well, up until this brain break. I filled two rooms with piles of almost done, done, done forever, put away til next year, and get rolling for this. Yesterday, Caelan took her Spanish final test (midway technically, but final for us), and we decided her research paper was complete, too (we're never getting back to the library to check page numbers in her source book). Got final grades printed for the older three and filed all their end-of-summer work. Sigh of relief! I've put in about seven hours so far today, with many more to go. 

It was amazing to stay home all of rainy yesterday . . . we watched Sesame Street, Wild Kratts, some goofy Disney shows, and My Big Fat Greek Wedding (well, not all of it). All the while I sat on the floor and worked on school. Today the plan was much the same, except the girls strongly wanted to go to the overnight youth retreat our church is hosting. Buck and I couldn't attend (he's got inventory) and the boys have already missed two football practices. Last minute though, my NGF said she'd pick the girls up (she's helping with high school now), so away they go. And back to school planning I will soon go.



4. Water heater seems to be working fine and we have PLENTY of laundry detergent.

5. Buck's foot follow-up appointment happened a couple days ago. His surgery point is healing fine; the doctor poked it with a needle and made it bleed, just to make sure. He had x-rays for his intense foot pain and discovered he has collapsing arches in both feet (on the top of his feet), plantar fasciitis in both bottom feet (worse in the right, tiny microscopic tears from overuse and collapsing arches), and the beginnings of bone spurs in both heels (from the plantar fasciitis). He's supposed to stretch his feet 30 minutes a day, use an ice bottle for massage and inflammation reduction, never go barefoot, always wear his custom arch supports, and hopefully in three to six months he will be better and will not require surgery. Oh, in the meantime he got two gnarly shots of cortisone, one in each foot which made him cringe significantly, but reduced his pain immediately. And also made him less inclined to do the full measure of prescribed treatment, but he has been stretching (a little ;)

6. I still haven't made any meals, but our pastor's family brought us chicken and potatoes and chocolate cake when we got back from our difficult weekend.  That was nice! Buck grilled on Tuesday evening. Wednesday the youth group fed us. Last night, I'm pretty sure I ate banana bars that Gabby baked. They are delicious!

7. I think those are all the updates off the top of my head . . . oh, we mixed the chickens 4 old, 4 young and 3 old, 3 young in the two coops. Hopefully they will learn to get a long better and the older chickens can teach the youngers to actually lay eggs in a nest rather than wherever they happen to be at the moment :) 



The puppy has been challenging. He learned how to "play" with the doggies at my mom's house. Now he follows Chauncey around and barks and whines at him, trying to get him to play. Mr. N has been in kennel time outs more often than roaming free this week. You can only get a dog so wet with spray bottle correction (Buck and I went to lunch after his foot appointment, and found this pocket-sized spray bottle for Caelan at Target :). Puppy's still eating socks and other miscellaneous items . . . he threw one up at my sister's house. All the doors are closed in our house most of the time; he's a lot of work. Maybe that's why Caelan wanted to go to camp in another state tonight :)


8. Buck's boss seems to have lightened up a bit. He's granting vacation requests left and right, and even sent us flowers!

Maga's Cleaning and Repair Crew

Several hours after departure, we arrived at my mom's house to help her get things ready for out-of-town guests. We had either four hours or til the next morning, depending on the amount of work that needed to be done. My nephews arrived on scene to help with the heavy lifting and other tasks assigned by Maga. 

First, Buck and the boys took charge of the backyard fence which was significantly bowed in. Buck made a run or two to the store for supplies, put some gas in my brother's truck, decided he's never driving that truck again (the seat and seatbelt are not attached!), and pretty soon, the fence looked fencey once more. 

While mom and I discussed details of dad's story and his upcoming celebration of life, Caelan got her puppy settled, and then started washing windows. When she reached a point where she couldn't reach quite high enough . . . she recruited my tall 19-year-old brother. He said he didn't know how to wash windows. Caelan said firmly, "Put your shoes on and follow me." It was pretty amusing :) 

As Lo got a quick lesson in window washing, Caelan stood by to make sure the job got completed correctly. Lo came in shaking his head and saying, "She's picky like Mom." Ha! Too funny :) That window got clean though, didn't it? Good teamwork ;)



Gabby took on the task of clearing out the guest room. It had been the *clean laundry* room most of the summer, so much folding needed to occur. Gabby put all the boys' clothes into a basket, and then I went through the entire basket with Lo making sure his clothes got put into his dresser and CJ's clothes got put into CJ's dresser (the underwear I let him sort himself! :) See that wooden dresser to the left of the picture? That's one of the heavy things our muscle boys carried downstairs and to the garage. Nice work muscle boys Graysen and A (and eventually C :)

But that wasn't the only thing that needed to be carried downstairs . . . this horrid, body odor smell was emanating from Lo's room (adjoining the guest room). I thought, "Maybe it is just teen boy smell, like on the Febreze commercials." But it kept getting stronger. Apparently (gag), Lo had three or four partial jugs of milk in his dorm-sized fridge--which no longer cools. The spoiled, separated, chunky milk was just rotting in his room . . . and then someone opened the door (gaggaggag)!! 

A and Lo carried that nasty red fridge down the stairs and out the door, where Lo blasted it with a garden hose. Back upstairs, he grabbed a spray bottle of Old Spice and decided to throuroughly douse his room and the hallway with "smell good." It no smell good. It smell very, VERY bad!!!

Buck came up the stairs, his eyes watering . . . "What on earth??!" It was so gross!! We couldn't stop laughing.

In the meantime, Buck wired in a light fixture for mom's bathroom with help from Brennen. They took several tries at hanging the bathroom mirror, and C stepped in to help the complex holding system necessary to get the giant mirror put in place. It ended up looking really cute!



Maybe not quite as "cute," but definitely with some flair, Graysen put together this outfit from miscellaneous clothing he'd collecting out of various rooms. He also helped Lo and A load CJ's scary truck full of all the yard clippings mom had stacked on a trailer next to the house. That was a big job!



While we waited for our first ever Door Dash purchase (noodles) to arrive, Buck and I rehung some wallpaper in the boys' bathroom. I have years of experience in wallpapering; Buck manned the spray adhesive :) We're a good team!

All-in-all, I'd say we had a pretty productive four-and-half hours. Mom said she felt like the house was closer to company ready. I had some good contacts and tasks to follow up on, answers to questions I had in writing dad's story, and felt better that mom felt more settled.

We decided that the remaining work (including wallpapering from scratch, painting, trim, caulk, etc. etc.) was going to take more time than we had in the morning to complete (dentist appointments mid-afternoon). Plus, all that bedding and finding places for the six of us to sleep would create more work for mom. We decided to hightail it home, and arrived pretty late. 

Whew, what a full day!

Pup Cup

I ditched keto this week, and Buck always wants coffee, so we stopped by a Starbuck's on our way out of town (tricky to access if you miss the turn, let me tell you!) I ordered a chai, Buck got his latte frappe fancy fancy something or other, and Caelan wanted some pink concoction with acai berries in it.

As the lady opened the window to hand across the drinks (and a ridiculous amount of vanilla bean scones), the puppy barked at her. The nice window lady took this to mean, "Don't forget about me!" So she immediately offered a "pup cup." We've heard of these legendary doggy drive through treats, but never have had an opportunity to experience them for ourselves, so Buck said, "Sure!"

Brennen immediately commented, "Wait . . . you're getting the dog Starbuck's, but you're not getting anything for me?" Lol :) Valid. When you get your driver's permit, you get your first Starbuck's, that's just how it works around here ;)




Tiny, free cup of whipped cream introduced to unsuspecting puppy. 


























Puppy eyes alight in delight! 




Puppy doesn't even turn around to enjoy his treat, but laps it excitedly from the hand of his best buddy in the backseat! Caelan said, "He's getting whipped cream everywhere! It's all over his back." And here he'd just had a going visiting bath! :)



Puppy turns to proper pup cup devouring position and Brennen makes plans to bark the next time we're in a Starbuck's drive through. Hee hee, just kidding Brennen :)

Happy Birthday Baby!

This year no back surgery could slow us down :) We had a very special birthday boy to celebrate! It worked out in an unexpected way, that the four days Buck took off of work so we could celebrate our anniversary, turned out to be four days we needed to spend with family and in helping my mom.

Imagine my shock to arrive . . . and see my sister standing there!! She doesn't travel :) I thought we made a wrong turn in Albuquerque (as Bugs Bunny used to say :) Her younger crew members were also along for the party fun, and Caelan decided the girls needed festive hairstyles to complement the occasion.

Little drop of sunshine was sleeping when we arrived, so we unloaded the puppy and all of our stuff into the spacious basement suite (I'll call it that because it makes me feel fancy :) The boys immediately locked eyes on the bicycles, but I told them to wait--we had days to cruise the neighborhood on two wheels. We looked through pictures with Maga and visited with L's mom, sister, and sister's fiancé. 

The birthday boy awoke to an unexpected crowd as we finished up our late lunch (it's a long drive!) They all had waited for cake and presents til we arrived, which was so thoughtful. I loved seeing my nephew blow out his big 2 candle. He knew exactly what to do, and actually blew out the lighter the first time :)








My brother got understandably teary during the birthday song and prayer. It's the first family event without my dad. I'm so glad we could be there to celebrate the baby and connect with each other in the first phase of our new normal.





Our kids were apparently low on their sugars, because they went all in for the frosting on the cake :) I was impressed at how much attention Mr. M paid to opening his gifts. He's got really great parents! They expect him to be thoughtful and kind even as a little guy. When he opened his balance bicycle he was simply delighted (and almost disappeared inside the wrapping paper :)



Mr. M is so talkative! He'll repeat EVERYTHING you say, sometimes with a question mark at the end to confirm he has understood correctly. He loved the puppy (until the puppy barked and then licked his foot, but they made up afterwards :) He would laugh and say, "Brennen funny!" and then he'd go around the room and try to remember everyone's name. If he forgot he'd say, "Uh-huh" and wait for some help. My favorite was when I'd see him for the first time in the morning and he'd cheer, "Aunt JessCUH!" Adorbs!



We all attended church together (well, those of us who stayed over Saturday night, mom and my sis and her kids went home) Sunday morning. After lunch, it was naptime for Mr. M again. He said he wanted to lay on the couch with Uncle Buck (Uncle Buck REALLY liked laying on the couch :) So here they are "napping."



My brother taught the kids a couple of card games, which they've played quite a bit since returning home! I like when they enjoy spending time together, so the more card games the better :)



So, my bro and sis-n-law bought their house earlier this year and really picked a beautiful neighborhood. At first I was hesitant to let the kids ride bikes around the loop out of our sight, but Buck's like, "It's fine!!' So . . .off they rode :) 

We got to watch the baby while his mommy and daddy went on a date Sunday night. He got very excited when Uncle Buck suggested an after dinner walk. He walked the whole way, except for when he jogged because he wanted to be like Graysen :) One tiny skinned knee later, we were back at the playground in the middle of their development space. I was amazed that the baby, when asked, would point out the correct direction to get home! He is one smart little cookie.

Can you spot Graysen on the playground? He kind of blends in . . . at first when I uploaded at the picture, I wondered, "What did I take this picture for?" Then I saw G! :) Camouflage! The baby luvs mowers, blowers, and "prinklers." He and I sat on the porch one afternoon and had a long discussion about such things ;) After our walk, Gabby and Mr. M "flew" home as airplanes. 


It was fun to put him to bed later. I haven't been in charge of bedtime for a long time! Baby had to turn on his sound machine. He scrolled through the colors until he got to the right one (I couldn't figure it out :) We brushed teeth and put on jammies. I even sang a few songs, This Little Light of Mine had enough verses to put the baby to sleep (and almost me, too!)




Monday morning, L invited me to be her ride buddy to her eighth (of ten) radiation appointment. It was fun to have her all to myself :) We got to chat and laugh and visit as she wove her way through crazy city traffic (I was glad she was driving). We ditched the car at hospital valet and in far less time than it took us to get there, she was done and we were heading back to the house. Pray those zaps work the way they are supposed to! She's got such a great attitude about everything. I know there are so many unknowns, but I love how they're doing their best to make the most of each day. All of our emotions are all over the place, and that's okay. It's just good to be together as often as we can. I, for one, can hardly wait to see a certain little beam of red-headed sunshine this weekend :)

Another One of Those Days

I'm overwhelmed and teary right now, so I'm hoping writing will make me feel better. I woke up and was so restless this morning, that I laid back down. Two and a half hours later, I woke up again (10:30 a.m.) and the whole day has felt off since. Thankfully Buck had awakened in time to take Caelan to her nanny job; I didn't even hear him get up.

Buck then mentioned there was a weird smell in the laundry room. We'd noticed the water wasn't heating correctly in our 20-year-old water heater since we got home from birthday visits and helping mom. So Buck, the puppy, and I went to investigate. I said I smelled gas; Buck said he smelled burnt electrical. We were both right.

The pilot light on the water heater was lit, but feeble. Buck put a lighter under the water heater and an immediate ball of flame shot out the top and directly at him from the bottom. He barrel rolled over the puppy who ran off in a white blur. Then Buck noticed the singed hair still clinging to his forearm and the rest on the laundry room floor. "I told you I smelled gas!!!!!" I was freaking out, he was laughing because he was okay. That could have been so not good.

He figured out how to get the pilot light adjusted so that it wasn't leaking excess gas (we think somehow putting the puppy kennel in or out bumped the knobs). But we still smelled the burnt electrical. Buck noticed that the air conditioning unit was running, but there was zero air movement from the vents. Sure enough, the temp had climbed two degrees despite the constant running. We shut the thing down for the third time this summer, and called the repairman. He was booked solid for the day, but would get here when he could.

An hour later, he had a postponement for one of his jobs and could come to our house right away. Praise God! Twenty minutes later, we discovered our assessment was right. The repairman carried away all the interior guts of our blower motor capacitor. We said, "How much will that be?" as he walked out the door with this huge metal contraption. He said, "I don't know, they are all different prices." And where does one find a 20-year-old blower motor capacitor anyway?



He called Buck back an hour or so later and said he could get the part ordered and hopefully have it repaired tomorrow for under $300. No problem, Brennen has plenty of money he can lend us :) Today it was 90 degrees outside, and our temperatures inside climbed to 87 upstairs and 85 downstairs in our usually cool basement. Miserable. I have not stopped sweating all day. So gross.

What else? Well, the washing machine kept showing an alarm light for something I'd just fixed. So, on an off chance it might work, I pulled the front filter for a cleaning (and flooded the floor onto a towel; at least I was ready for that one). But now I needed to test the washer to see if the light would go out (and to make sure the filter wouldn't leak all over the floor like it usually does after a cleaning). But I had no detergent. Not my big jug, not even my back up jug. All the soap containers had all been used completely dry. So, I sent Graysen to our neighbor's house with an empty laundry detergent cup, begging for some liquid cleaning power.

He returned with a full cup, and I decided to split it between two loads (we had zero kitchen towels left for washing or drying dishes) and a big, wet pile of towels we'd used to bathe the dogs before we left (another not so great smell in the already smelly laundry room, which now also smelled like burnt hair). I dripped the last of my Lysol sanitizer into the machine to try to boost the half cups of detergent (apparently I really need to go to the store), and hit start on the washer. No leaks, and the warning light went away. Yes!

Being in the mood to get things done today (my list basically got flushed down the toilet), Brennen had mentioned the vacuum needed a repair also. I knew this, I was ignoring it. But he was right, it had gotten to the point where the wand that fits the hose was no longer connecting and our need to vacuum is massive around here--daily. 

Buck jumped in and glued the pieces together . . . only we discovered six hours later (after the glue was super super stuck), he accidentally glued it upsidedown :( Now the part that fits into the arm handle of the vacuum that connects the hose for suction so we can use the roller bar at the base, does not fit at all. The vacuum is basically useless unless we want to suck up the entire house with the end of the hose (we do not want to do this). 

Brennen and I looked up how to remove super glue from plastic on google. It said use acetone nail polish. Caelan had approximately three drops of acetone nail polish left in her bottle. Ugh!!!! We dripped it into the most likely glue spots and left the whole thing in the sink. Buck thinks he can snap the pieces apart, but he's got two overnight shifts (he'll be home by 1 a.m., I think) in a row, so I'm not sure when he'll find time. I decided to order the replacement part from Dyson, just in case it doesn't come unglued via Buck's efforts. Well, I about came unglued when they said the broken part is not covered under our warranty (which is good for three more years), but they would waive the shipping costs. We should expect the replacement part in TWO WEEKS!! Yes, just a mere 14 days. By then, the dog hair and kid fluff will be piled up to our knees. You think I'm exaggerating? I'm hoping Buck can temporarily rig the thing, so we can at least fight back the fur.

I don't watch too much tv, but I do like the summer session of So You Think You Can Dance. I've missed three weeks in a row due to unavoidable events. Not a big deal. Youth group tonight was absorbed into prayer night, so we just decided to stay home. I thought, the kids and I can sit in the slightly cooler basement and catch up on the dancing. We tried the ipad, my phone, the chromecast, and finally the big computer. Fox refused to stream. We ended up watching two hours of choppy, buffering, sporadic dancing because we were all too hot to do anything else.

There is one bright side in the past couple of days. We had three friends, all named Melissa, offer to bring us meals. In fact, they all wanted to bring meals on the same night. Two did end up missing each other by 15 minutes, because one meal I had already accepted and the other said she was just leaving a meal in my house (she has the code :) It was a glorious abundance of food, because I have not made meals in weeks. Approximately eight weeks. I went to write up a grocery list today, and we've used up basically nothing. Except laundry soap and ice cream. It's been a rough summer.



Thankfully tonight, the third Melissa had pizza delivered. So happy that we didn't have to turn on the stove or oven to add to our overheated mess of a house! I also find it somewhat hilarious that all three Melissas brought us chocolate brownies for dessert . . . and here I was just craving chocolate brownies :) Fresh green beans, homemade raspberry jam (from self-harvested berries), cherries, mashed potatoes, chicken and noodles, cowboy stew, homemade brown bread, a beautiful salad . . . it is so nice to feel loved and cared for by our friends.



And looking back, we did accomplish some good things today. Brennen mowed the abandoned look of our front lawn away, he collected a bakers dozen of eggs, Gabby got the chickens watered and the bathroom cleaned, Graysen ran every errand I came up with, and Caelan kept three children happy and healthy at her nanny job.

Of course, there is more going on emotionally than these surface things. But man do the surface things seem to stack up when there is a lot going on emotionally! I feel calmer now (and seriously need a shower), thanks for "listening."

Dad's Final Week

My dad was so excited to get closer to home. His long weeks at Mayo were pretty horrible to him. He wanted to be near family and OUT OF THE HOSPITAL. I don't think he realized none of us had the capability to care for him at home the way a full team of doctors, specialists, nurses, and medical staff could . . . but he still wanted to be home. He thought it would take a lawyer to get him out of there, but it really just took a stroke recovery specialist facility to arrange for his care. That process took about a week. 

Mom arranged for a medical transport for the three hour drive, because we didn't think there was any way to lift dad in and out of a vehicle (even at his leanest weight in decades, 158 lbs.). So mom went with a professional, because that's the safest. Once dad arrived in the same town as family, we got texts laughing about his transport. Somehow, while strapped securely with three straps . . . dad managed to wiggle off his hospital bed/stretcher and fall on the floor (it was not a far fall, just a few inches)! The driver was so horrified, he just couldn't figure out how this had happened. He alone, couldn't get dad back on the bed, so he flagged down a young, strong-looking plumber at a freeway exit. Together they got dad loaded back safely for the remainder of his trip :)

As you can see in the pictures, dad was received with an abundance of smiles and excited grandchildren! He got to go outside for the first time in nearly two months! Gardens, flowers, fresh air, sunshine (well, the sunshine brought out a reoccurrence of his job's disease), but so much better than being in the hospital! We were all excited, making plans to visit (my sister practically never left), thankful that dad was so much closer to home.



Less than 48 hours later, dad was back in an ambulance on his way to yet another hospital; the same hospital (or wing of) where he'd been treated for cancer half a dozen years or so ago when his leukemia came out of remission. Back then, he was so sick; we thought we'd lose him . . . much like we'd thought we'd lose him after his car accident 17 years ago. He's an emotional rollercoaster, but he always came back to the station okay.

Unfortunately, this time things just weren't going his way. The hospital treated him for dehydration, but he wasn't really feeling better. Soon, doctors determined he'd had a heart attack and that his kidneys were failing. Then they suspected another stroke. While he could still communicate, dad told mom he wanted no more major medical intervention. No scans, no surgeries . . . and really, those things only caused more discomfort and pain. They made the rest of us feel better, but him feel worse. Not much could be done. His body was tired, worn out, and nearly all his major organs and systems were negatively affected in some way.

As I said in a previous post, I took Gabby, Brennen, and Graysen to visit dad last Saturday. My nephews were there and it was good to see them, good for the cousins to see each other. Dad was still talking some, but in a lot of pain. He didn't really open his eyes much or acknowledge that we were there, but he listened to every word we said. The kids and I left as Mary from church arrived. Mom stayed by dad's side.








I told the kids that I knew it was weird to take pictures in this situation, but they might look back and want to remember the last time they visited their grandpa. 

My sister captured these sweet and sad pictures of my mom and dad together. It is just a glimpse of how painful and exhausting this process is, but again important. These emotions are just as valid as all the joyful, happy moments. God created us to feel and express a full range. And we do, and we have, and we are.



We kept hoping for a rally, as dad had given us so many times before. But we were realizing that might not be God's plan this time. So, after Buck got his foot worked on (staff infection, by the way), we made arrangements for our neighbor to take the girls to work and pick them up after. She also offered to get pizzas and feed all of our kids dinner. Our boys went to her house for most of the day to play with their friend Isaiah. It was a blessing for her to cover all these needs at home, so Buck and I could go say goodbye to my dad.

When we arrived, my sister, two nephews, and a niece met us in the hallway. We chatted for a few minutes, they left, and then Buck and I went into dad's room to find three of his college fraternity brothers telling old stories about their adventures. Two of these three men are principal characters in my childhood memories. Amazingly, my dad's influence for Christ on the man standing next to my mom directly affected Buck and my life in several ways. First, we've randomly lived in two towns where his relatives live (instant connections to the area). Second, he and his wife are pioneer homeschoolers and have provided leadership to the homeschooling organization in our state. If my dad hadn't been involved in their story, our way of educating our family might look pretty different.

Similar to the emotion that swept over me when I heard my childhood pastor pray over my dad (on speakerphone at Mayo) a similar familiarity/security swept over me as my dad's lifelong friend, whose voice had prayed prayers at our dinner table and in our living room, prayed one last time for my dad--using his personal nickname, Bear-eye.

As these three men left, Buck and I sat and talked with my mom. Dad's breathing was labored and he wasn't talking, responding, or opening his eyes at all. His blood pressure continued to drop, low enough that they weren't really monitoring it anymore. My aunt and uncle came back into the room, then mom asked the nurse to give dad a little medication to help with his gasping breaths. Soon, his breathing slowed. 

Mom held dad's hand and Buck's across the bed, Buck stood with his other arm around me, and I had my hand on dad's heart. Mom told him all kinds of things about going to heaven and that it was okay. I told dad that Buck was here now, that we'd all been to see him (in one hospital or another since he'd been flown back from California). I told him we'd miss him, but that he'd taught us well how to get where he was going, and that we'd see him again. He opened his eyes just a little, (aspirated a bit), and took another gasping breath. That was it. Then my dad's soul went to be with Jesus. 

Buck and I backed up, so the nurse could do her nurse thing. Next a couple of doctors came in to confirm he'd passed away. Buck and I cried together. We cried with my aunt. We made sure mom had a way home (well, she didn't actually, so we gave her a ride home). She took a few minutes with my dad alone, set an open Bible in his hands--he never stopped preaching and praising while he could still speak. They put a picture of a candle on his door.

We walked outside into a sunshiny, blue-skied late afternoon. It was amazing to think that just moments ago, dad was suffering, but now he was whole . . . greeting loved ones on golden streets, laughing with his friend Jesus face-to-face, asking questions and knowing all the answers, seeing the place that Jesus has been preparing for 2,000 years. 

Like my aunt said, "How can something so good, hurt so much on this side?" She's so right. We know dad is happy and whole, and that makes us happy. But we don't quite feel whole anymore. A big part of our adventure, our fun, our teacher, our faithful prayer warrior is gone from us. It still hasn't fully sunk in. It still doesn't feel fully real. I know that process takes months, even years. We're grieving, and that's good. We're happy somedays, and that's okay. We're sad and grumpy and tired and . . . well, we're a lot of things. But we're also thankful that dad, Grandpa Barry, is with Jesus and that we're going to see him again someday ♡