Saturday, October 14, 2017

What's in Your Backpack?



Everyone has burdens that they carry in their life’s backpack on a daily basis.  These burdens come in all sizes and configurations. They can be good burdens to have while others are ones we would just as soon not have to carry. There are times when we are able to remove a burden or two from our backpack, lightening our load and there are times when we have to take on an additional load. There are other times when the burdens we carry will grow and add more weight to our backpack.  But we know that everyone is carrying around burdens in that backpack of theirs.
I just wish that there was some type of weigh station similar to what you see on our nation’s interstates where you can go to check to see if you are overloaded so you don’t do permanent damage to yourself. But there seems to be no weight limit sign on our backpacks and no governing official to say we are at our maximum weight limit.
Some of the burdens we carry are a result of our own choices – some good, some bad.  Other burdens in our backpack have been added without any choice or agreement from us.  It has been thrust upon us and we must learn to adjust to the new burden as we move on down life’s highway.  Unfortunately, we often see those who have given out under the weight of their burden and are seating at the side of the road, either waiting for a second wind, or a hand up, or a person to take some of the weight out of their backpack. Sadly, in some severe cases, they have completely cratered under the load they have accumulated.
For most of the burdens we carry in our backpack, we have an assigned pocket to carry it in.  We are able to add pockets and we can adjust our pockets to accommodate the burdens that are in our backpack. These pockets can help to balance out the weight in our backpacks so that we can better handle the totality of the weight the burdens bear in the backpack.  As the different burdens are secured we become accustomed to the balance of the new weight and can resume our normal activities.
However, one of the most severe and challenging of burdens that are added to our life’s backpack is the death of a loved one, especially the death of one of our children.  The burden of grief is the most difficult to manage in our backpack.  Contrary to what many people think (and they are usually people who have never had to carry this particular burden of grief), this is not a weight that you can remove from your backpack. It is not a burden you can ‘get over’, get rid of or can forget you have contained in your satchel. The burden of grief becomes a constant weight in your backpack of life.  You never get rid of it and you really never get used to it. Grief never gets lighter.  And most worrisome of all is that this weight cannot be secured in a pocket.
What does happen when a person has this permanent burden of grief added to their life’s backpack is that the person becomes accustomed to the added weight as long as it doesn’t shift around too much.  We eventually learn to carry it better so that to an untrained eye, it appears that we are “back to normal”. 
In reality, if something happens that causes that burden to shift in our backpack we are suddenly reminded of that originating experience of grief and the life and love that was snuffed out too soon.  Because of that shift in weight, we may falter or fall to the wayside of the highway. We may wince or cry out in pain or we may re-injure ourselves causing us to temporarily detour off of our life’s journey.  And, not insignificantly, that original pain of grief is seen by all.
There are times in a year where you can expect that weight to shift and cause pain again – birthdays, death days, most holidays, and other special family occasions. You can count on experiencing varying amounts of pain on those days. And those who are walking with you will know and understand the reason for your pain and tears and will be there to provide support and comfort as you sit by the road for a while.  But there are other days, when the weight unexpectedly shifts as a result of a sound, a scene, a word, a song, a person, a thing, a picture – and that grief pain strikes suddenly and catches us off guard. At those times, we are thrown off balance and will need time to readjust the ‘weight’ and allow for the pain to subside slowly. After a period of time, minutes to days, we can resume our journey.
So if you see a person struggling with their burden, either staggering back and forth on the road or sitting on the side of the road with tears in their eyes there’s a good chance you have encountered someone whose burden of grief has shifted on them and they are struggling under the load.  It would be a blessing to them if you would volunteer to adjust your gait to theirs for a time and keep them company. And, if need be, offer to sit with them and allow them to talk about that burden as they are forced to readjust that load. Your compassionate companionship and your empathetic ear will mean a lot as they ready themselves to pick up their backpack of burdens and resume their journey of life.

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

I'm Gonna Love You Like I'm Gonna Lose You



If you’ve known any of us Edfeldts for a while you know we love our music. And it encompasses a wide variety of styles. Some of us like instrumental jazz, some like classical, some like Christian, some like top 40,  a few of us like a little bit of country  while others like a little bit of rock and roll (my apologies to Donnie and Marie Osmond) and all of us like musical theater. 



Well,  there are some words to a recently top of the charts hit that were written for a different purpose but I feel they are very poignant on this day when my family recognizes that it was eight years ago that Jacob lost his lifelong battle with defective heart issues.



Meghan Trainor wrote a song titled “Like I’m Going to Lose You” after she had a nightmare that involved sensing that loved one of hers had died.  She woke up in a cold sweat and quickly reached out to touch that loved one and to be reassured as she heard the voice of that person. Then she penned these moving words:





I found myself dreaming ; In silver and gold
Like a scene from a movie; That every broken heart knows

we were walking on moonlight; And you pulled me close
Split second and you disappeared and then I was all alone

I woke up in tears; With you by my side
A breath of relief
And I realized; No, we're not promised tomorrow

So I'm gonna love you; Like I'm gonna lose you
I'm gonna hold you; Like I'm saying goodbye wherever we're standing
I won't take you for granted 'cause we'll never know when; When we'll run out of time

So I'm gonna love you; Like I'm gonna lose you
I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you

In the blink of an eye; Just a whisper of smoke
You could lose everything; The truth is you never know

Let's take our time; To say what we want
Use what we got; Before it's all gone
'Cause no, we're not promised tomorrow

So I'm gonna love you; Like I'm gonna lose you
I'm gonna hold you; Like I'm saying goodbye wherever we're standing
I won't take you for granted 'cause we'll never know when; When we'll run out of time

so I'm gonna love you; Like I'm gonna lose you
I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you


Fortunately, for Meghan Trainor it was a nightmare that she was able to wake up from.  But on June 14, 2009, our nightmare was realized and it goes on to this day.  In the eight years since Jacob died, we have made adjustments to become somewhat accustomed to living this nightmare. But we know that we won’t be able to wake up and reach out and touch Jacob again nor to hear his gravelly but sweet voice.



So we want to urge you to take the song’s words to heart. To those that you love, let them know of your love daily and don’t take it for granted that you can tell them tomorrow. Spend time talking to them and always end it with “I love you”. Do things together – things you like and things they like. Kiss them a little longer and more often.  Reach for their hand and hold it for no other reason than it may not be there to hold tomorrow. Hug them a little tighter and whisper in their ear, “I love you” because Karen and I can tell you …

.… we wish we could do so with Jacob today.



Thursday, April 27, 2017

In Tribute to Zuzu


Beth's portrait of Zuzu

Yesterday was one of those days every pet owner dreads, yet inevitably experiences; that day when we lose one of our four legged children.  For Karen and me, we decided that our beloved miniature schnauzer, Zuzu, had lived a beautiful life and that she had suffered enough through the last few months. 

First of all, I want to express my deepest appreciation to Karen for her empathy and courage in taking on the brunt of taking Zuzu to the vet and being with Zuzu when she was euthanized.  Karen knew that if we both went, it would have been harder on both of us so she did this (with my consent) while I was out of town.  My biggest regret was that I couldn’t be with her but she had a good friend (and fellow lover of Zuzu) with her.

As I was driving home I repeatedly checked the time on the clock and imagined Karen walking into the office of the vet with Zuzu in her arms and having to wait.  A few minutes later, I’d peek at the clock and think that Karen was stroking Zuzu and thanking her for her years of joy and love.  Then a moments later, the clock would suggest to me that Karen was tearfully saying and sharing our final good-byes.

Bailey & Zuzu
For the rest of the trip I let memories of the last 16 years that Zuzu created for us entertain me; such as:

  • Her immediate bond with her older Labrador retriever sister, Bailey (and fellow namesake from the movie, It’s A Wonderful Life).
  • Her incessant desire to play ball.  She spent hours running up and down our back porch stairs in Marietta chasing a bouncing tennis balls. Our daughter-in-law even painted a portrait of Zuzu in her favorite pose.
  • Her laser focus on our many early morning walks (with me and Bailey) back and forth on West Sandtown Rd. Nothing would distract her as we walked our two miles each day in the pre-dawn hours.
  • Her cat like independence.  When she wanted attention, she’d let you know and expect immediate action.  Otherwise, just leave her alone…. until the next meal.
  •  After we had to put Bailey down (another terrible day), we saw that Zuzu needed a playmate so we brought in Ernie (yes, named for another character from the same movie).  They instantly bonded with Ernie becoming Zuzu’s shadow, much to her displeasure at times.
  • In the last years in 'our meadow', watching her bunny hop down the road to our house after a short walk.


When you bring a dog (or pet) into your home you fall quickly and deeply in love.  Pet owners always say that they are a member of the family.  We conveniently keep safely away from our cognitive memory that their lifespan will be only 10-15 years.  So, when “that” day comes, that grief still hits us like a ton of bricks. As Philip Yancey so accurately defines, “in grief, love and pain converge”.  You swear you’ll never want to get another pet because of the pain you’re experiencing.  Yet in a few months, you often repeat the cycle and experience that unique love a pet brings once again.

Yet, for Karen, Katie, and me, this grief pain reveals itself at another, deeper level.  In the loss of Zuzu, we lose yet another connection with the life of Jacob.  Back in 2001 we received Zuzu from a litter owned by Karen’s cousin, Lisa Sinaird soon after we moved to Marietta.  Jacob and Katie were with us when we picked Zuzu up to take her home. She became fast friends with Bailey and a source of love and entertainment to all of us.  Her presence in our household helped Jacob and Katie make the transition to a new community a little easier. When those days when things were difficult at school in making friends, they could home to that twitching stub of a tail and knew that they were loved.  It was wonderful to watch them all grow older together.

When Jacob became so sick before his first transplant Zuzu was there to bring love and encouragement. And when he was recuperating after the transplant, Zuzu would play nurse by checking on him with regularity. She was our exclusive therapy dog.


Now we have lost one more tangible piece of shared experience with Jacob.  And we have lost one more treasured pet who spent their life bringing us unconditional and continual love.

Zuzu, thanks for your years of love and service.  Tell Bailey and Jacob ‘hello’ for us.

Ernie, Zuzu, & Elphie







Thursday, September 1, 2016

Does It Ever Get Any Easier?

by Richard Edfeldt



Does it ever get any easier .....


to talk to others about Jacob’s life and his death?

to survive special dates like his birthday, Mother's Day, Father's Day, and other holidays?

to survive special events within our family and in the lives of our friends that we know we'll never experience with Jacob
  - such as birth of babies and all the parties that precede it?
  - weddings of friends' children who shared their childhood with Jacob or are the approximate age as he would be plus all the showers leading up to that blessed event?

to drive through neighborhoods and stop in front of houses from years gone by where we shared life with Jacob, Ben, and Katie, remembering all the good times experienced within those walls?

to drive by schools and other places where Jacob went or participated in functions?

to walk through hospital hallways and visit in rooms which inevitably evoke countless memories?

to sit in the same church sanctuary and recall images of him worshiping in the balcony or helping to lead in worship with a group?

to be in that same church sanctuary and remember where you sat at his memorial service?

to drive by graveyards, particularly the one where he is interred, and be jolted once again with the finality of it all?

Is it any easier after all these intervening years?   

Well, it may be easier to cope with emotions and control your feelings better   
    .... the tears are less frequent   
         .... you may even smile at the memories
              .... and you may share a laugh about an experience or a quirk of his personality
              


BUT, grief still sneaks up on you unexpectedly as well as the expected times listed above.  Sometimes you can make it through the day or event, but just as often you can't suppress the tide of grief that rises within you.  The sadness and grief can still overwhelm you.

So, the ultimate answer is NO, it never gets easier.  You are just caught off guard less, but the grief still remains, ever lurking in the shadows.