Monday, January 28, 2019

THOUGHTS BY A GRAVESITE


Whenever I am in Marietta on one of my business trips I will take a few minutes to stop at Jacob’s gravesite. A couple of years ago I wrote a blog about another one of my visits there. Here’s a link to it:  


Each time I’m there I will usually see one or two other people standing or sitting by the grave of their loved one.  I can only imagine what is going through their mind but here are some of my thoughts I am confronted with:

  • His smile
  • His laugh
  • His love for life
  • The nights together at home
  • Our visits at Shorter, seeing his immense joy at being there
  • His admiration of his older brother
  • His devotion to his big sister
  • His truly ‘undying’ love for his mother and father
  • His love for God
  • The hilarious funeral service we had for his pet gerbil, Furball (picture the Cosby show & the goldfish funeral)
  • The numerous times I went on field trips and youth camps as a chaperone, so I could keep an eye on him
  • The social bullying he had to endure
  • His circle of friends that accepted him, supported him, and protected him
  • The improbable beginning of life in Philadelphia and the repeated visits there for open heart surgeries
  • The countless cardiologist visits in each city we lived in
  • The bantering he enjoyed with his cath lab nurses at Egleston
  • His ‘shark bite’ scar and his chest zipper
  • Pacemaker checkups via the phone
  • The times I had to give him shots (he claimed I enjoyed giving them to him entirely too much)
  • Those ‘calls’ that were followed by hospitals visits and bad news
  • Those hospital stays and long nights in sleeping rooms
  • The inner circle of friends who would bring ‘appropriate’ food to him that he could eat while in the hospital
  • Those that helped him with homework during his hospital stays
  • Those scenes of watching him rolled into the surgery prep room, wondering if we’d see him alive again
  • The two celebrations of successful heart transplants
  • Wondering what impact did he have on people
  • My wish that his nieces and nephews could have hugged him and played with him, to know him, not just our memories of him
  • Wondering what would he be doing now if he had lived
  • The flood of ‘what could have been’ thoughts
  • The overarching sense of immense and continuing loss
  • The promise of the resurrection and eventual reunion

Then looking at the path I will take back to the car … alone.

Saturday, January 12, 2019

Remembering Jacob


We celebrated our family Christmas a bit late this year.  Ben and his family live in Wichita Falls, TX and left for Georgia on Christmas day after celebrating their family Christmas in their home.  They spent some time with Beth’s family in central Georgia and then arrived at our house on New Year’s Eve. Katie and her family also spent Christmas with Andy’s side of the family and arrived on New Year’s Eve. So we actually celebrated our Christmas on New Year’s Day!

It was great to have everyone in our home for four cold and wet days playing games, going places, and catching up on each other’s lives.  It was the first time for Ben, Beth, and Zane to see our home renovation since the flood three years ago.  It was a blessing to see aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, and cousins playing and giggling. Our list of who was present:

Ben & Beth - Tucker (10), Libby (8), Zane (6)
Katie & Andy - Abby (23m), Caleb (5m)

Each of our grandchildren is unique, but equally loved.  Tucker was only a toddler when Jacob passed away, but has no direct recollection of him.  All of them depend on their parents and Karen and I to keep the memories of Jacob alive.  But Libby, in particular, has a special fascination about Jacob.  I don’t know if it is because her life began with serious heart issues akin to Jacob’s or she just has that tender spirit concerning him and his life. Every time we are together, a conversation about him happens and she will inevitably say, “I wish I could have known him”.

We have several pictures and mementos of Jacob around our house and they always are conversation starters about all things Jacob.  They are usually what gets Libby asking us about a certain significance of a picture or object. This year it was especially touching to hear her ‘introduce’ Jacob to Zane as they walked around the house seeing these items so dear to us.

One night, my ‘job’ was to entertain Tucker, Libby, and Zane for a couple of hours.  Like any grandpa worth his stripes, I said "let's watch a movie!" We decided to watch the old classic, American Tail. I told the three kids that this old movie holds a special significance to our family.  Then I shared the following story:

When this movie first came out, our family was in the throes of fear and anxiety.  Karen was pregnant with Jacob and we were already aware of his fatal heart flaw.  We had decided on a course of action that involved having Jacob delivered at the University of Pennsylvania hospital (making him our token Yankee) and quickly carted via their network of tunnels over to Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia (CHOP).  My parents agreed to care for 7 year old Ben and 2 ½ year old Katie back in Houston, TX when we left for Philadelphia in March, 1988.

Jacob’s first major open heart surgery was scheduled five days later.  Karen was still at HUP and I was staying at the original Ronald McDonald house which is a beautiful city mansion located about a mile from the hospitals.  As I tried to get some sleep the night before the surgery, I listened to some music and this song from American Tail came on:

Somewhere out there, Beneath the pale moonlight
Someone's thinking of me, And loving me tonight

Somewhere out there, Someone's saying a prayer
That we'll find one another, In that big somewhere out there

And even though I know how very far apart we are
It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star
And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby
It helps to think we're sleeping underneath the same big sky

Somewhere out there, If love can see us through
Then we'll be together, Somewhere out there
Out where dreams come true

I explained to the kids that the words helped me to remember that Ben and Katie were back in Houston, missing us but were being well cared for by my parents and my Sharpstown Baptist church family. It comforted me, even through my tears, that they were ‘thinking of me and loving me tonight’ and that ‘even though I know how very far apart we are, it helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star’.  And, though we were thousands of miles apart and missing each other desperately, it was calming to know that we were ‘sleeping underneath the same big sky.”  Finally, I knew and, ultimately put my trust in, that God’s love would see us through and we would be together once again.

I warned the kiddos that if they see me tearing up and sniffling some when that song started, they would now know why.

Sure enough, when Fieval started singing this song, my sweet Libby, who was snuggled up in my arms, sneaked a peek to see if I was alright and patted me on my thigh to comfort me.

And a few seconds later, Katie stole that same sneak peek around the corner of the wall as her eyes were glistening.  We smiled at each other, remembering.

Jacob is remembered …. He is missed …. And he is loved.