Far and away the best prize that life offers is the chance to work hard at work worth doing.

Theodore Roosevelt

I’ll lend you a child for a little time
a child of mine, God said.
For you to love the while he lives
and mourn for when he’s dead.

It may be six or seven years
or twenty-two or three.
But will you till I call him back
take care of him for me?

He’ll bring his charms to gladden you
and shall his stay be brief.
You’ll have his lovely memories
as solace for your grief.

I cannot promise he will stay
since all from earth return.
But there are lessons taught down there
I want this child to learn.

I’ve looked the wide world over
in my search for teachers true,
And from the throngs that crowd life’s lane
I have selected you.

Now will you give him all your love,
nor think the labor vain,
Nor hate me when I come to call
to take him back again?

I fancied that I heard them say,
“Dear Lord, thy will be done,”
For all the joy thy child will bring
the risk of grief we’ll run.

We’ll shelter him with tenderness.
we’ll love him while we may.
And for the happiness we’ve known,
forever grateful stay.

But shall the angels call for him
much sooner than we’ve planned,
We’ll brave the bitter grief that comes
and try to understand.

by Edgar A. Guest

Which of the photos below are of John and which are of his son Sheldon?

Facebook is going through a “retro” phase where folks are posting profile photos of themselves when they were younger. I didn’t want to sort through all my boxes in the barn and then scan some, but I remembered Mom had sent me scans from the family photo album! So, here are some older photos of me! Jessica had wanted some older photos of her, so I dug out these old Christmas card photos for her and thought I’d re-post them here again too! It’s fun to see the old photos of the kids, but still tugs at my heart to see the photos of John from happier times.

Above: I’m about a year old with Mom and Dad Opposite: Me feeding a bottle lamb, about 2 years old (me, not the lamb)

Above I’m about 3 years old playing with Curly, our stock dog. Mom said it was great fun watching me, because I’d lift Curly up into the wagon, get around to pull him, and he’d jump out. Then I’d start all over again!

This is one of my favorite pictures of me. I’m holding the lead with the boss’s kids on the horse. I was a pretty good horsewoman by this age.

1968 School photo

1969 School photo

Our 1988 Christmas card photo of the kids.

Our 1989 Christmas card photo of the kids.

Our 1991 Christmas card photo of the kids.

Our 1992 Christmas card photo of the kids.

Our 1993 Christmas card photo of the kids.

Our 1994 Christmas card photo of the kids.

Our 1997 Christmas card photo of me and the kids

Our 1999 Christmas card photo of the kids.

Our 200 Christmas card photo of the kids.

Our 2001 Christmas card photo of me and the kids.

Exactly 29 years ago John was born in Kotzebue, Alaska.

And on June 10, 2006, he died.

Lorraine, our wonderful church historian, gave me these two photos of John helping build our church addition in the spring of 1999. She had several of him on top of the frame and knew I’d appreciate having them.

John was young and didn’t mind climbing up on the rafters, so the mostly older crew members really appreciated his help with setting the rafters.

I’m thinking of John a lot this week as three years ago this week we were planning his funeral.

We read a lot of these sappy stories like the one below which I just received by email, and it’s hard to know whether they are actually true or not. I have a slightly similar story about my son John to relate that I do know is true.

His first year playing summer baseball he did really good and enjoyed it a lot. However, his second year he was in a tougher league, and he really struggled. For the first few games, when at bat, he would just stand there and not try to hit because he was so afraid of striking out. So, unless the pitcher unintentionally walked him, he would strike out on call strikes. We talked about it a lot after the games, and he finally worked up enough courage to swing at the ball. And he did swing, three times, and he missed each time. However, when he walked back to the bench after striking out, his coach and team cheered and “high-fived” him just was much as if he’d made a home run. They knew what an achievement his swinging was for him personally. After that he was able to swing and learn how to hit the baseball and have a good baseball season.

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At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:

‘When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do.

Where is the natural order of things in my son?’

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued. ‘I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.’

Then he told the following story:

(more…)

I was window shopping in down-town Traverse City between Motherbaby Film Festival events when I saw this great stone memorial item. I might have bought it if I could have put it in my car trunk and brought it home, but, since I was flying, I had to settle for photographing the text which reads like this:

I thought of you with love today,
but that is nothing new,
I thought about you yesterday,
and days before that too.

I think of you in silence,
I often speak your name,
all I have are memories
and your picture in a frame.

Your memory is my keepsake,
with which I’ll never part.
God has you in His keeping,
I have you in my heart.

Sheldon’s “real” birthday is January 29, but we celebrated today with a wonderful party surrounded by friends and family!

“Wow!”

Sheldon happy with Grandpa.

“Is it for me?”

(more…)

They say your life flashes before your eyes as you lay dying. I don’t know whether this is true, but I do know my son John’s life re-played in my mind while I sat waiting for the policeman to tell me he was dead.

John disappeared in the early morning of June 10, 2006 after calling our pastor and his ex-girlfriend and telling them he was going to kill himself. We filed a missing persons report and talked with all his friends and relatives trying to see where he might have gone. We assumed that, if he had killed himself, someone would have found the body, so he must be off “finding himself.” Although John had tried to kill himself before, he’d always done it in such a way that he was able to be “saved.” We hoped this meant he wasn’t really serious about it. We were wrong.

A year ago, July 17, 2006, about 1:15 pm, the police detective called and said he needed to “meet with me.” I told him how to get out to the farm, knowing almost for certain what he would tell me when he arrived.

During his 20 minute drive, my thoughts were filled with odd memories of John. I didn’t try and pretend the news would be good, though I also didn’t overreact and cry hysterically over something that wasn’t certain . . . yet.

I remembered in detail the day John was born and the joy his father (who died in 1981) had in his son. I remembered moving from Alaska to Missouri, his growing up in several different homes and farms in the Ozarks, good and bad memories flowing together. I remembered that his girlfriend was pregnant with his child, something he had long wished for.

And then the police arrived to tell me they had found John’s body.

There will be no more new memories of John, only the old ones remembered again and again.

Time stops, moves on, and passes It’s been a year Since time stopped And my son died. Time moves on With or without everyone; With me and three children Without John. Time passes Pain fades; grief eases But not entirely Never entirely.