Libby Kate is Five!

Five years ago today, do you remember where you were?  I certainly do.  I was in the Savannah area having consultative meetings with churches in the region and dodging all sorts of St. Patrick ’s Day celebrations that area is known for.  Then I got THE call!

Ben called me and announced that LIBBY KATE EDFELDT had entered into my life and into the world!  And, once again, my life had changed dramatically! I had a granddaughter and, sight unseen, I was beginning to become wrapped around her tiny little finger.

I remember pulling over into a parking lot so I wouldn’t become a traffic hazard as I eyes filled with tears of joy.

Then a secondary sensation came over me as grief suddenly appeared alongside my joy.  I was still in my first year of grief events over the loss of Jacob.  Those are significant days that we were now experiencing without Jacob; my first birthday without him, the days remembering his two heart transplants, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, etc.  And now here was another first – a niece who would never be able to be held or to play with her adoring Uncle Jacob.  This was inevitable, life moves on, but the thought was still painful.

Jacob and I

Later in the day, Ben called back and the tenor of his voice was quite different. I asked what was going on and he explained that they were on their way to Ft. Worth to Cook’s Children’s Hospital because Libby Kate’s heart was in distress. Once again, I pulled over as tears of concern and rage came over me.  NO! THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING! NOT AGAIN! 

We made plans to fly out to Ft. Worth as doctors gathered around Libby to devise a strategy for treating what they had discovered to be wrong with her tiny heart.  The doctors found out that sweet little Libby Kate had Coarctation of the Aortic Artery – a narrowing of the artery which inhibits blood flow to the lower part of the body.

Libby and I

I won’t drag you through the details of the ensuing days. We got out there; Libby Kate underwent a successful surgery to expand the artery and eventually made it home.  Obviously, Ben and Beth were shell-shocked and Karen and I fought back waves of déjà vu as we stood by her bedside in PICU. Both of us had a sense that Uncle Jacob was by the bedside as well, whispering to Libby Kate that she would be OK because he was going to look after her.

Now we fast forward five years.  Today Libby Kate celebrates her fifth year of vibrant life. Her physical heart is regularly monitored and, so far, is doing well. But it’s her heart for life that is mammoth.  She knows of her Uncle Jacob and is adored by her Aunt Katie (as well as by her Kandler side of the family).  She is Mimi's constant delight. She celebrates EVERYTHING with a string of pearls around her neck, a smile on her face and dance in her step.  Her eyes twinkle with the intensity of the stars and her creativity knows no boundary. And her little finger is firmly and proudly wrapped by her Pops. 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SWEET LIBBY KATE!!!!

Jacob's Trees (by Richard)

Beth's painting

As Karen and I struggled to navigate in the fog of grief following Jacob’s death, we tried to set up memorials and remembrances of Jacob’s life (as if we would really forget about him!). Beth, our sweet daughter-in-law, painted a beautiful painting of Karen and Jacob on the beach that we have hanging prominently on our wall. A cousin of Karen’s painted a wonderful portrait of him as well. And we have other memorabilia around the house that bring us comfort and, often, tears, as they remind us of him.

Another way we tried to honor him was by planting a tree or shrub somewhere around our home in North Carolina on his birthday, March 11. The first plantings we did, while we still lived in Marietta but would come to the cabin on weekends, were two dogwood saplings. One produces pink flowers and the other, white.

Now, I’ve never considered myself a gardener and if half of what I planted each season survived I felt like I was fortunate. Thankfully, both of the dogwoods survived the first summer and fall.  But one weekend in late winter we came up to the cabin and, as I was inspecting the place, I was dismayed to see that the beavers from the creek had somehow circumvented the protective wire around the trunk we had placed around the dogwoods and had chewed off the main trunk of one about two feet above the ground.

I was devastated by this act of vandalism done by a four legged creature with buck teeth. This tree was to symbolize the life of Jacob and now this furry beast had decimated it.  Then I began to smile as I could hear Jacob’s gravelly laughter and voice speaking to me, “Pops, since when did I give a hoot about dogwood trees?”

In the years since this occurrence we have come to realize that, as nice as the act of planting shrubs and trees to remember Jacob by is, we really don’t need these physical reminders to help us honor and remember the life of Jacob.  He is constantly with us in our thoughts. Rarely an hour doesn’t go by that something brings him to mind and it emotes a smile or a tear on our faces.

But you may be asking, “Hey, what happened to the dogwood trees?”

Thankfully, both dogwoods have survived and they have now come to symbolize something else in my life. As I look at the dogwood trees they remind me of my faith in God and how it has changed shape over the years.

For years, my tree of faith was growing straight and true, producing blossoms and leaves as it grew upward and outward. Unseen, the root system grew deep and wide, drawing the needed nutrients and water to keep the tree alive.  But then Jacob died …. And the trunk of my tree of faith was severed at the top.  Since that time, the appearance and substance of my faith has been changed dramatically.

Jacob’s death has caused me to analyze how faith works; how prayer works; how God works.  I have come up with lots of questions and very little answers.  My faith has been damaged and has forever changed shape but it persistently clings to life. Rather, God and His grace has persistently clung onto me in the midst of my doubts, anger, and questions.

In the ensuing years, the dogwood tree that was ravaged by the beaver has struggled to survive and has compensated with the loss of the main trunk by using a branch of the tree as its new main trunk. Meanwhile, the other dogwood has continued to grow well balanced and full.

The one tree reminds me that some people grow with little opposition in their life. Everything comes easy for them and they are the perfect picture of what life should be like, according to most people. They are full and balanced and produce beauty that is attractive to all around them.

But then there are others, like me, who have had some type of trauma that has attacked their tree of faith.  They have been ravaged and brought low.  But beneath the surface, their root system has stayed intact and continues to slowly supply the sap to what’s left of the tree in order for it to continue to live and grow. Now to all outward appearances, that growth is awkward and off balanced due to the heavy losses that tree has incurred. It is still alive and growing but it will forever be affected and changed. It will never be a tree of beauty again. It will continue to face challenges to its life because of its deformity.  But it is ‘still in the game’, struggling for growth and life as it remains tapped in the main power supply. By God’s abundant grace, my ugly looking tree of faith continues to live and grow despite the damage that has been done.

And, thankfully, God loves and nurtures both trees just the same. He has no expectations of equal production, just equal love. And His grace nurtures all trees equally, whether they are deformed or full.

Today is Jacob’s birthday. He would have been 27.  We will never know what he could have accomplished had he had a longer life. But he produced much with the short time he had…and  

his fruit continues to impact others.

Happy birthday, Jake.  You are sorely missed but never far from our heart.