I will be a guest on Open to Hope Radio with Dr. Heidi Horsley and
Dr. Gloria Horsley on Thursday, November 10th at 11:00 am CST!
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Wake Me Up When September Ends?
12 AugIn a few short days, the month of September will be upon us. As I type these words, I can physically feel my stomach flip-flopping and a knot beginning to form. What’s wrong with September you ask? Technically … nothing … I do enjoy the last days of summer and the soon-to-be fall weather.
But my oldest daughter’s birthday and the day she died are both in the month of September. September brings up so many memories … both the good and the painful.
On September 12th my Elizabeth would be 28 years old. What would she be doing with her life, I so often wonder. Where would she be living, what career would she have chosen? Would she be married? Would she have any children? Would she have dealt with the demons that plagued her in the last years of her life? These are all questions that will forever remain unanswered.
On September 20th we will mark the eighth anniversary of her death as well as the deaths of Amanda and Brian, two of her six roommates. Three young lives gone in an instant as the result of a fire in their old wooden duplex just a few blocks from the University of Minnesota where they were all just beginning their adult lives. So much promise … so many dreams and hopes gone in an instant.
So, what do I do? I could continue to focus on what is no longer possible … and, trust me, I do that on occasion. I think it’s necessary and I owe it to Liz. To sweep it all under the rug and pretend it never happened not only is a disservice to my daughter, but it is also a disservice to me. Revisiting the pain is necessary and part of my grieving process. The key, however, is only to visit, not remain stuck in it.
What is also necessary is to focus on the twenty years I had with my daughter. The times she made me laugh, made me smile, made me so mad I could hardly see straight — the good times as well as the bad. I remember that Elizabeth’s life was so much more than the way that she died. In the end, all I can do is smile because when it is all said and done the only thing that really matters is how much we love each other. Love wins out over pain and heartache in the end.
There is a song by Green Day called, Wake Me Up When September Ends. My husband has commented that he would like nothing better than to go to sleep on August 31st and wake up on October 1st. And, even though I breathe a big sigh of relief when the calendar turns to October, I would never wish not to have September.
So in a few days I will focus on remembering. I will honor her each and every day – in some small ways and maybe even some big ways. I will celebrate her and love her for what she is and will always be, my beloved first-born daughter. Death can never change that – nor can it erase the love that we will always share.
“It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.” Alfred Lord Tennyson
The Hospice Effect
24 May
I had been thinking about becoming a hospice volunteer for a while. It would come to me as a passing thought every now and then that I would consider for a bit and then put aside. Little did I know just how soon and how clearly my indecision would be reconciled.
Our local hospice house is on the outskirts of town on what used to be a farm place. There is a windmill and a few trees but farm fields mostly surround the house. And, it looks like a home – not a place of death. I had tour a shortly before it opened, but had no other contact with it, other than to read the obituaries of many a local who had spent their last days and hours there.
I had become familiar with death in the most painful of ways. My oldest daughter, Elizabeth, died in 2003 from smoke inhalation from to a fire in her duplex just a few blocks from the University of Minnesota where she had just begun her sophomore year. It truly was a “baptism by fire” and an experience I wouldn’t wish on the fiercest of enemies.
Almost eight years have passed since that fateful day, and I have come to accept that the physical presence of my beautiful daughter is gone forever. Her spirit, however, continues to burn bold and bright in my life, giving me the needed comfort and peace I so desperately sought in those early days, weeks and months.
My 82-year-old mother-in-law, Betty, had several health problems, but she managed them completely on her own, and she lived in a beautiful apartment just a few blocks from our home. She didn’t leave home much, but she was fiercely independent and had a love for family that could not be rivaled.
On April 2nd, Betty was busy in her kitchen when she made a sudden turn, lost her balance, and fell to the floor. Luckily, she had a lifeline around her neck. She pushed it and it wasn’t long before the authorities were there to help get her to the hospital.
Our local hospital determined that her hip had been badly broken, and it would be best to transfer her to Rochester, home of the Mayo Clinic, just a short 30-miles away.
It was so nice to know that she was receiving the best care the medical world could offer. She underwent surgery to repair her shattered hip. She came through with flying colors and we all breathed a sigh of relief and began to focus on what we thought would come next – a rehabilitation center to get her back on her feet again and a return to her home.
It became a rocky road however. Betty’s ongoing chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), as well as congestive heart failure (CHF), was wrecking havoc with her hip rehabilitation. She would be well enough to move to the rehab center, only after a few days to suffer intense breathing issues and end up back in the hospital. This cycle went on for an entire month.
Finally, as her family, we had to accept that, despite the fact that her hip was healing nicely, her breathing issues were not. In fact, they were chronic, and they would not improve, we were told. In fact, they would only get worse.
Betty was completely exhausted and we could all see that she couldn’t fight much longer.
Our thought pattern completely changed, and we knew that the best thing for Betty was a move to hospice to be pain free and comfortable. At that point, all we wanted was rest and peace for Betty, the matriarch of our family — a woman who was widowed at the young age of 50 after the sudden, unexpected death of my father-in-law Richard in 1979 from a heart attack.
I wasn’t that close to my mother-in-law, even though I had been a part of her family for over 30 years. Yet, that day, something compelled me to focus solely on her and I found myself continually standing at her right shoulder, patting her head, bringing cool cloths to keep her comfortable, and feeding her an occasional bite of ice cream.
The atmosphere at the hospice house was home-like and welcoming. The nurses and staff were there not only for Betty’s needs, but for ours as well. Even though we would only be with them for a short 12 hours, they very quickly felt like family.
I remember toying with the thought that, at some point, I would whisper in Betty’s ear to please give Liz a hug for me when she saw her.
With Betty resting comfortably and at the urging of the nurses, everyone except one daughter went home for the night. You need your sleep the nurses told us, and we agreed — but not until we decided that one of us would stay with Betty at all times.
Just a few short hours after returning home, our phone rang with the news that Betty was gone, she had slipped away during the early morning hours with her daughter asleep by her side.
After taking a few deep breaths and letting the news sink in, I realized that I no longer had the opportunity to ask Betty to hug Liz. As soon as I had that thought, however, I was immediately immersed with an intense sense of love and peace and the knowing that my mother-in-law was now with my daughter and she was indeed giving her that hug that I had only thought about.
A few seconds later that thought was gone. But, it was immediately replaced with a complete and utter sense of gratitude that I knew was my mother-in-law’s way of thanking me for helping her in her final hours..
My brother-in-law related a few days later, that although he had been on vacation in Georgia when he got the news, his intense sadness was quickly replaced by an extreme sense of peace – a peace given to him by his mother that there was no need to be sad. She was in a better place, she was no longer suffering, and she was reuniting with those she loved.
It’s been a few weeks now and these experiences have had the chance to sink in. My answer about becoming a hospice volunteer has clearly been answered, and I have begun the process to make that happen. Some day soon, I hope to provide the same peace and love that we received to other families who will move their loved one to hospice just as we did.
I consider it a gift — a gift given to me by God and by Betty.
I have been blessed, and now, I can be a blessing to others.
God At Work
31 MarA couple of weeks ago we had a speaker at our Compassionate Friends meeting. Mitch Carmody lost his son Kelly to cancer in 1987 and he’s written a book entitiled, Letters to My Son. I had read it several years ago and have wanted to meet Mitch for a very long time. I contacted him last Fall and we set in motion his coming to town to speak to our group on March 14th. Our local paper did a really nice front-page interview with Mitch that ran the day before our meeting.
We had a great turn out and the article brought out many more than our CF membership. We had one couple attend who had not lost a child, but were about to. The Harlicker’s have a 7 year old son, Tyler, in the final stages of a cancer battle. When they read the article in the paper about Mitch, and the fact that he also lost a son from cancer, about the same age as Tyler, they felt compelled to attend as they said they felt it was a sign from God.
Everyone in town knows about Tyler and his cancer battle. We have been praying for him for over a year in church every week. Roger and I met Tim & Sue for the first time that night and they are amazing — very strong and we both were very touched at the openness with which they have dealt with this painful journey in ther family. They have also talked very openly with Tyler and his brothers and sisters about his impending journey to heaven.
When Mitch Carmody’s son Kelly was in the midst of his cancer battle, he clutched a rosary and it brought tremendous comfort to him and his family. Several years after Kelly passed Mitch came upon the rosary and began to lend it out to other people who were also fighting cancer or some other life crisis. Some were healed and sometimes the rosary became a very comforting symbol that helped them through the journey.
The rosary had been out on loan for the past three years. However the week after Mitch spoke and met the Harlicker’s, the rosary was returned to him. And, he immediately knew that it needed to go to Tyler. The next day the Harlicker’s took a road trip with Tyler to meet Mich and his wife Barb and accept the rosary. Tyler was able to see pictures of Kelly – who he knew would be his new friend in heaven.
Tyler completed his journey this past Tuesday and the rosary served the purpose for which it was intended. Here is the heartbreaking but amazing account written by Tyler’s Dad, of Tyler’s transition from this world to the next.
http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/tylerharlicker/journal
The Acknowledgement Section
6 DecI had a dream that I went to Heaven and an angel was showing me around. We walked side-by-side inside a large workroom filled with angels. My angel guide stopped in front of the first section and said, “This is the Receiving Section. Here, all petitions to God said in prayer are received.”
I looked around in this area, and it was terribly busy with so many angels sorting out petitions written on voluminous paper sheets and scraps from people all over the world.
Then we moved on down a long corridor until we reached the second section.
The angel then said to me, “This is the Packaging and Delivery Section.. Here, the graces and blessings the people asked for are processed and delivered to the living persons who asked for them. “I noticed again how busy it was there. There were many angels working hard at that station, since so many blessings had been requested and were being packaged for delivery to Earth.
Finally at the farthest end of the long corridor we stopped at the door of a very small station. To my great surprise, only one angel was seated there, idly doing nothing.
“This is the Acknowledgment Section,” my angel friend quietly admitted to me. He seemed embarrassed “How is it that there is no work going on here?” I asked.
“So sad,” the angel sighed. “After people receive the blessings that they asked for, very few send back acknowledgments .”
“How does one acknowledge God’s blessings?” I asked.
“Simple,” the angel answered. Just say, “Thank you, Lord.” (Or Great Spirit, Higher Power, they work too.)
“What blessings should they acknowledge?” I asked.
“If you have food in the refrigerator, clothes on your back, a roof overhead and a place to sleep you are richer than 75% of this world. If you have money in the bank, in your wallet, and spare change in a dish, you are among the top 8% of the world’s wealthy .”
“And if you get this on your own computer, you are part of the 1% in the world who has that opportunity.”
“If you woke up this morning with more health than illness … you are more blessed than the many who will not even survive this day .”
“If you have never experienced the fear in battle, the loneliness of imprisonment, the agony of torture, or the pangs of starvation … you are ahead of 700 million people in the world.”
“If you can attend a church without the fear of harassment, arrest, torture or death you are envied by, and more blessed than, three billion people in the world .” (Add “synagogue” and “mosque” to “church” and this number jumps, I’m sure.)
“If your parents are still alive …you are very rare .”
“If you can hold your head up and smile, you are not the norm, you’re unique to all those in doubt and despair.”
Ok, what now? How can I start?
If you can read this message, you are more blessed than over two billion people in the world who cannot read at all.
ATTN: ACKNOWLEDGEMENT DEPARTMENT:
Thank you Lord, for giving me the ability to share this message and for giving me so many wonderful people to share it with.
Kim
Bright Spots in the Midst of Pain
16 Aug
Liz & her Wencl cousins
Sometimes you go about the business of daily life and you put yourself out there and you never really know if your words or the sharing of your experiences are helpful to anyone other than yourself. Sometimes you even begin to question whether or not you should continue to do so.
But then, something happens and you know that there is no doubt … you are making a difference.
That happened to me yesterday.
This identical post was published on the OWNING PINK website(http://www.owningpink.com ) on Friday. I really had no intention of re-posting it here. But, after receiving a remarkable piece of feedback that literatlly took my breath away, I changed my mind.
Every now and then I will share some of my life experiences when a bright spot has emerged and helped me through a very difficult time — because no matter what our situation may be, there is always a sliver of gratitude that can be found. I will admit that sometimes we have to dig really deep to find it, but it will always be there when we need it most. And, sometimes, if we don’t find it, it finds us.
Unbelieveable Circumstances
I was numb as I sat in the chair between my husband and my father. I could hear the funeral director talking…I could see his lips moving, but nothing was registering in my mind. Even breathing was difficult. In the past twenty-four hours, life as we knew it had ceased to exist. Our oldest daughter, twenty-year-old Elizabeth, had died of smoke inhalation from a fire in her duplex just a few blocks from the University of Minnesota, where she had just begun her sophomore year. Two of her roommates also died with her.
How can this be? Liz is gone? It just can’t be true. How can I go on without my precious first-born daughter? I had so many emotions running through my mind and I couldn’t deal with any of them. I was too shocked even to cry.
Question after question had to be answered. What is her birth date? Where was she born? What year did she graduate from high school? I answered each question without any thought, more like a robot than a mother. It was instinctual – it was rote – it felt void of emotion.
Part of me — no, all of me, wanted to scream and run out of the room, go home and find my beautiful, precious Elizabeth, safe in her room. She would look at me with that coy smile of hers and say, “Oh Mom, you just worry way too much! Nothing is going to happen to me! I’m just fine!”
Why couldn’t this be a horrible nightmare, or some cruel joke? Please God, please. No, this was real, and I had to sit and question-by-question try to acknowledge what I just couldn’t believe was my new reality.
Intense Sorrow and Pain
When the funeral director left the room for a few minutes, the silence was overwhelming. We each sat like statues, staring into space blankly. Conversation was impossible. The silence in the room was deafening. Each of us was trying so hard to keep it together, but it was an impossible task. My husband put his head in his hands and sobbed. Then he got up and said, “I’ve got to get some air.” We barely acknowledged him, as my Dad and I continued to sit in stunned silence with tears streaming down our faces.
The funeral director returned and gently told us that we would need to bring in clothing for Liz to be buried in. There was no hurry he said, but in the next day or two. As his words began to slowly sink in, I mentally scanned Liz’s closet – and it was empty. There was nothing left – she had taken everything with her when she moved into that duplex just three weeks ago.
An Unexpected Shopping Trip
The harsh reality was that I would have to go out and buy Liz an outfit to be buried in – one last, final new outfit. She always loved to shop and she loved new clothes, so it seemed fitting that a new outfit was needed for this occasion as well. But how could I shop without her? We never agreed on clothing, and now in this difficult, painful state of mind I had to pick out her final new outfit?!
My sister drove me to the mall – I knew I would go to a store where Liz used to work, as she had always liked the clothes there. As I pulled open the door and stepped inside I whispered, “Liz, you have got to help me here! I have absolutely no idea what to pick.”
I slowly walked around and began to peruse the racks. It didn’t take very long before I found a pair of khaki pants and a light blue sweater. I showed my sister and said, “I don’t know if this is what Liz would want, but even if I don’t get this right, does it really matter?”
A day after the funeral my sister-in-law came to visit. We sat in my kitchen drinking coffee and talking. The grim reality that Elizabeth was gone had begun to sink in.
A Precious Surprise
“I was going through pictures last night,” Karen told me, “and I found one of Liz taken last Christmas. I thought you might want to see it.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a picture, and laid it on the table in front of me.
There she was – my Elizabeth, smiling and happy sitting with her cousins. But… suddenly my breath caught in my throat and I couldn’t speak — Liz was wearing … a pair of khaki pants and a light blue sweater!
your beautiful daughter
By Scott Sheperd on Sunday, 08/15/2010 at 1:52 PM
Harsh reality, stunned, finality, sinking in, overwhelming and many more words that transcend discussion. I have worked for years with people who have lost loved ones, many times suddenly and unexpectedly. My oldest daughter lost a baby six months into her pregnancy totally unexpectedly. I sat here and read this and had all those words and feelings hit me as if your daughter was my daughter. I felt I in some way knew her. In these situations I always picture the survivors as almost like trapped animals. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to turn. Everywhere you look the truth is crushing. To not panic and go crazy just in and of itself is a major feat. You have shared and taught and inspired with this article. Most of all, I think, you have let us be moved by the beauty of your daughter. Your strength and that of your family is incredible but rising above all that is this beauty of your daughter. Her presence and spirit are tied into those khaki pants and blue sweater. Her smile in that picture shows a life raised in love and a life that loved and still gives that love. Words fail me Kim. I’m glad I got to know you and your family a little bit and most of all I feel honored to have met your daughter. Thank you for sharing her. In my own way I will pass her on to a lot of people.
Owning Pink
12 Jul
I now “own pink” and you can too! You don’t have to like pink or even wear pink – you can just “own pink.”
What does it mean to “own pink?”
You own pink when you are who you are, warts and all. A blog called Owning Pink was started alittle over a year ago by Dr. Lissa Rankin.
Over the course of the past year, women and a few men, have found her blog (including me) and we became part of “the pink posse.” We share our thoughts, our beliefs, our difficulties and our triumphs. And it is all done in a very warm, nuturing and loving environment.
It was an amazing and wonderful opportunity to share my life’s stories with this great group of people.
A month ago, Lissa took the next big step by making Owning Pink a website.
She asked some of us to be regular contributors. I was thrilled and honored to be asked to write for Owning Pink!
I will still be maintaining my blog, Love Lives On, as well as writing for Owning Pink.
Come on over and check us out. I guarantee there is something for everyone!
If you would like to read my blog posts on Owning Pink, go here:
Gratitude
25 MayThe Universe has been nudging me to write a post about gratitude. Last week I watched Laura Ling tell of her time spent in a North Korean prison when she and fellow reporter Euna Lee accidently crossed into North Korea while working on a story. They were thrown into prison, put on trial, and sentenced to 12 years of hard labor.
To make matters even worse, the United States has no diplomatic relations with North Korea, and at the time of their arrest, North Korea was shooting off rockets and the underlying threat of a nuclear war was lurking.
Laura was in a precarious predicament, with not much hope for the future or release and a return to her family and the life she knew.
She was asked how she got through it. What she said amazed me and has really resonated with my soul.
She said she was able to endure because she focused on gratitude. Many of us go through our lives unhappy and complaining about what are really inconsequential and trivial parts of our lives. The question is – when the chips are really down, can you still find your gratitude?
Gratitude is easy when we are happy, our family is doing well, jobs are secure and meaningful, health is abundant, finances are stable – then it is very easy to be grateful … most of the time we take it all for granted and assume that this is how life is suppose to be.
For many people in this world they do not have even a fraction of what we take for granted … and they are grateful … gratitude can be found in the midst of deplorable, desperate conditions, death and destruction, famine and disease. Just as God is always present no matter what – we can always find gratitude no matter what – we just have to be intentional and seek. Once we seek, we will find.
Once we start, it will become contagious and we will be able to find more and more in our lives to be grateful for
Laura Ling said it was easy to find the gratitude as she sat in her solitary, cold, damp, dark cell. That in itself is a blessing to be grateful for.
She was grateful for the three meals she was given each day. The meals were small, but they sustained her and she knew that there were many in North Korea who were starving.
She was grateful to see a butterfly occasionally flit by her window. It gave her hope, even though she could not smell the fresh air or feel the sunshine, she saw a butterfly go by and she was grateful.
This morning I received an email containing a you tube video of Nick Vujicic. Nick is 26 and was born without arms or legs. Nick is filled with gratitude. Here is a link to the you tube video and to Nick’s website, Life Without Limbs.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gc4HGQHgeFE&feature=youtu.be
http://www.lifewithoutlimbs.org/
Thank you Laura and Nick for reminding me that there is so much for me to be grateful for.
Wishing you gratitude!
Listen Live Tonight At 5!
3 MayI will be Suzane Northrop’s guest tonight on Blog Talk Radio.
Listen Live at 5 pm CDT OR listen to the archived show
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/suzanenorthrop/2010/05/03/the-suzane-northrop-show
Same Scenario – Different Day
6 AprHave you ever noticed that when The Universe is trying to teach us something, if we don’t get it, the same lesson just keeps coming again and again until we do?
Never has that been more apparent to me than in the area of campus fire safety. When Liz died from a fire in her duplex, I automatically assumed it was just this freak accident that shouldn’t have happened.
However, just this morning I received notification of another fire fatality in off-campus housing at Eastern Michigan University
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Contact: Ed Comeau, Publisher
Campus Firewatch
www.campus-firewatch.com
413-323-6002 (tel)
413-896-5718 (cell)
ecomeau@campus-firewatch.com
Student from Eastern Michigan University killed in off-campus fire in Ann Arbor, Michigan
BELCHERTOWN, Mass., April 6, 2010 — A student from Eastern Michigan University was killed in an off-campus fire in Ann Arbor, Michigan.
According to the university, 22-year-old Renden LeMasters was killed in the fire. LeMasters was a senior in the College of Technology.
In an interview with Campus Firewatch, Ann Arbor Fire Marshal Kathleen Chamberlain reported that the fire was reported at approximately 5:30 a.m. and started in the area of the front porch which contained upholstered furniture, trash and other combustibles. The fire, which was detected by a passerby, then spread into the interior of the building through a front dormer window and two doors which were left open when the occupants escaped from the fire. The victim was found in front of the building by the first arriving fire department personnel. The cause of the fire is under investigation and has not been determined at this time.
The building is a two-story, wood-frame, building that had been divided into three units located in the basement, first floor and second floor. There were interconnected smoke alarms in the building but no residential fire sprinklers.
According to Chamberlain, the Ann Arbor Fire Department had previously attempted to have an ordinance passed that would ban upholstered furniture from front porches but was unsuccessful. Before this fire occurred, they were in the process of trying again because of the danger that these conditions present. “These are incredible fire hazards,” said Chamberlain.
Nationwide, this is the fifth campus-related fire fatality to occur in the 2009-2010 academic year, all of which have occurred since January. According to information compiled by Campus Firewatch, 140 people have died in campus-related fires since January 2000 with over 84% of them occurring in off-campus occupancies where a majority of the students across the nation live.
Campus Firewatch is a social enterprise focusing on campus fire safety. For more information, visit our website at www.campus-firewatch.com.
###
Campus Firewatch ● P.O. Box 1046, Belchertown, MA ● 01007 ● 1-413-323-6002 (tel)
www.campus-firewatch.com ● ecomeau@campus-firewatch.com
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The similarities are stunningly familiar:
fire call comes in 5:30 am
fire starts on a porch in a couch
the building is a wooden two story
How sad that an ordinance outlawing couches on porches was not enacted – perhaps now it will – but does it really take another death of a college-aged student to make it happen?
Welcome
Welcome to my blog about love, life and transformation!
Kim
