Birthday Lunch and BTS

This has been a very good day.

I took my sweet friend to lunch for her birthday. I love it when you can sit and talk with a friend and have no idea that 2 ½ hours have past.

Second, I got to drive Charli and her friend Kimia to see BTS at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena.

In case you’re not cool enough to know who BTS is, they are a 7-member South Korean pop (K-pop) boy band that is on fire right now. Since they sing mostly in Korean, I’m not sure what they’re saying, but it’s very danceable, and, yes, I do feign singing along even though I’m sure I’m singing gibberish. Google BTS Mic Drop if you want to see some crazy good dance moves. You’re welcome.

The show just started a while ago, and right about now, everyone who lives within 50 miles of the Rose Bowl is wishing they had soundproof windows. Oh, the screams of teenage girls!

I told Charli and Kimia that I saw heartthrob Shaun Cassidy when I was in high school and screamed like a banshee. Charli doesn’t scream. She’s much cooler than I was.

So after dropping them off at the concert, I treated myself to a movie. Don’t go see The Intruder if you don’t like jump scares, and if you do go, make sure to hit the bathroom first. I give it a thumbs up. To the people in front of me, I’m sorry I kept frantically telling the guy, “Stop, don’t go in there!!!”

I’m about to head down to the plaza where they have live music tonight. I hope it’s not danceable, or I may have to demonstrate my BTS moves.

Brought my journal and my 12-step workbook. May do some reflecting while I wait at the Rose Bowl later.

Here’s what’s so wonderful about this day – it’s been filled with experiences that answered well the question, “What’s the kindest thing I can do for myself?”

And it’s not over yet. I get to ride home with two hyped up teenage girls singing Fake Love at the tops of their voices!

God, thank you for people I love and who love me. Thank you for simple pleasures – eating Doritos in the car, singing along to the radio, treating myself to a movie. Thank you for this day.

Trust

Today as I was leaving a HotWorx cycle session with my friend Teri, a girl who was coming into HotWorx stopped to hug me. I recognized her. She knew Chandler from Board & Brew. There were tears in her eyes, as she said, “I’m sorry.” I replied, “No, I get it.” She said, “Chandler was such a bright boy.”

He was. His smile could light up a room. He was enthusiastic, energetic, attentive to people. If you met him, it was hard to forget him.

What touched my heart so deeply is that she told me she had stopped at Chandler’s bike memorial and cleaned up some of the dead flowers and tidied it up after the rains. She knew I pass by there every day, and she wanted it to look nice.

I’m doing a 15-day challenge at SweatStar, so I went straight over there from HotWorx. At the beginning of each session, I’ve begun to set my intention — just a word to capture what I want to bring into my practice and carry with me after the session. So far it’s been surrender and peace. Tonight I thought my word would be courage. I need courage right now. I’m not going to lie. I am terrified of Mother’s Day coming up.

But as we began to flow through the poses, courage didn’t seem to fit. My mind went back to a conversation earlier today with a friend at work. She’d said that with trust comes peace. Flowing through warrior two, it hit me that courage comes from trust. That became my word.

Trust.

Trust in the Lord with all of your heart (Proverbs 3:5).

What am I trusting for? I’m not trusting that nothing bad will ever happen to our family again because we’ve met our quota. I’m not trusting that every circumstance will turn out to my liking. I’m not trusting that I won’t continue to feel the worst pain I could ever imagine.

What I am trusting is that there is a God who is loving, merciful, gracious, and powerful who will be WITH me through all of this. Who just keeps showing up.

This is my mantra. Every day.

Trust.

I Am Ruth Vickery's Daughter

I’d love to tell you a little bit about my mom, Ruth Vickery. I’ll tell you why I’m thinking about her tonight in a minute.

First of all, I only got to have her around for 18 birthdays. That wasn’t enough.

While I did have her, here’s what I saw. I saw a woman of compassion and generosity. When I was in 3rd grade, there was a little boy named Roy who always wore ragged clothes to school. His shoes were more hole than shoe, and they lacked their full soles. My mom went to the store and bought Roy some clothes and shoes. She gave them to his family with no fanfare whatsoever.

I saw a woman devoted to her family. I never once doubted if I was a priority. And I never wondered if she enjoyed being my mom. She took care of her own mom and dad in their elder years with a joyful heart, considering it a privilege.

I saw in Ruth Vickery a woman of faith. Her Bible was marked, highlighted, written in, and lived out. Once when I was feeling anxious about what I might want to do for a career, she asked a question that I will always remember, “Baby, don’t you think God can make a way for you?”

The best thing about today and the reason I’m thinking about my mom (aka “Mama”) tonight is the text I got from one of my Texas cousins this afternoon. She had watched the video from the Easter in the Park service where I shared our story. She said so many encouraging things, but the thing that wrapped my heart in pure joy was this:

Aunt Ruth would be so happy…you are illuminating her expressions and life even now. You are smaller and shorter than your mom, but your heart is the size of hers. Now explain that!! God’s mysterious ways still working.

Mama, I love you.

Forever proud to be Ruth Vickery’s daughter.

Intention: Joy

This afternoon, I went to SweatStar for a hot yoga session taught by my friend Heidi. The name is definitely an apt description of the experience. At least the sweat part.

As you begin your yoga session, you set your intention, what you hope to focus on, during your practice. I’ve been setting the word surrender as my intention. But tonight for some reason, the word joy came to me.

So I’m sweating like a pig, looking at myself in the mirror like they tell us (“eyes on you”), and seeing an expression that seems to say either “air please” or “I will hold this bow pose or die trying.” Setting my intention as joy just didn’t seem congruent with what my face was saying. But I did it. Throughout the session, I kept coming back to that word — joy.

After yoga, I checked my phone. Brendan, one of Chandler’s best friends and bar manager at Board & Brew RSM, had sent me a text. It was the picture of a bottle opener card he’d had made for their upcoming tap takeover featuring Noble Ale Works, Chandler’s favorite brewery. The card read, “The Chandler Tap Annihilation.”

Joy. There it is.

It brings me joy when Chandler is remembered.

Later at home, I was texting back and forth with Chase about some shenanigans his dogs are pulling in the new home they just moved into. Chase is not one bit happy with those pooches right now. Diapers may be in the works. For the dogs, not for Chase. He told me they’d talked to a trainer and were told the dogs needed a tour of the house so they are reassured it’s theirs and feel ownership. I said, “They didn’t pay anything for the house. Do they really need ownership?” His response (I’m going to paraphrase for the sake of discretion): “Mom, I’m also supposed to rub Bear’s butt until he poops and then grill him a steak.”

Joy. There it is again.

Charli and I were laughing so hard at the text exchange about the dogs that one of us ended up on the floor.

It’s so odd that I set my intention for this afternoon’s yoga class as joy even when my face did not agree. It sure found its way into my evening in unexpected ways — a tap takeover dedicated to Chandler and the dilemma of misbehaving canines.

Maybe intention is more potent than I thought.

Golf Day Two

Today was a beautiful partly sunny/partly cloudy partly warm/partly chilly day of golf — another 18 holes! We were so blessed to spend these two days golfing with friends we have known forever.

I should probably qualify the term “golfing” as it refers to what I did today and yesterday. Perhaps it wasn’t so much golfing as it was whacking at a ball and running a few feet after it to whack at it again, sometimes from sand, sometimes from weeds. My score would have been championship material — if it were bowling.

I feel Chandler near out there. He loved golfing, and several Chandler stories took place on the golf course like picking up the baby rattlesnake on the 18th hole and flipping the golf cart between the 17th and 18th holes. I’m sure some of the most epic stories haven’t made their way to this mother’s ears yet.

I’m sure I will come to extract many life lessons and metaphors from the game of golf. For now, the primary lesson is, you’d better make sure your self-esteem is in tip-top shape if you’re going to start trying to hit a tiny ball into a hole a long ways away in just a handful of shots.

I think Chandler would have had a few laughs watching me today, and I think he would have even been proud of a few shots. I’ll never be the golfer Chandler was, but I can honor him by remembering him and his love for the game every time I hit the ball. Or the grass behind it.

Beautiful, Painful, Soulful Day

I did not grow up appreciating or even being aware of the value of silence. Reflection was just something I saw in the mirror. I have always been on the go, a do-er. That has served me well in so many ways. But it has often caused me to move through life from force of momentum rather than from a place of centeredness.

Today I did some things to feed my soul, to bring me back to center.

One of those things was hot yoga. Sweatstar (formerly Sumits) has been a healing place these past weeks, especially when my dear friend Heidi is leading our practice. More than once, at the end of the hour, I lay on my mat with tears streaming, allowing my emotions to drip onto my mat along with the salt of my sweat. I know we are all in this space with our stuff — our anger, our hurt, our grief, our strength, our weakness. We bring it all, and we allow the hour to be exactly what we need it to be. For me, it is prayer. Every movement is my offering up of everything to the God who is with me.

Another heaping portion of soul nourishment today was my trip to the beach. I sat on Newport Pier overlooking the waves with my journal and my 12-step workbook. I think every human being would do well to work the 12 steps at some point in their life. Working the first three steps is the foundation of a healthy spiritual life: I am powerless; there is a powerful God who can restore and heal me; I choose to surrender my will and my life to God. The steps after that are a practical, day-to-day working out of what it looks like to relinquish the position of God and trust that the real one can help me live a healthy, balanced, generous, joyful life.

It’s been a beautiful day. Still lots of Chandler thoughts, Chandler tears, Chandler memories, Chandler aches. That’s just how this goes. Beauty mixed with pain.

Tomorrow I’ll unpack a little more about my journey to find the power of silent spaces.

Looking Ahead

I’ve had a lot of friends ask me how Easter was…our first without Chandler.

Easter was good. We celebrated that morning at St. Johns Church and celebrated that afternoon with our family and Board & Brew tribe.

I really didn’t anticipate Easter being one of the big ones. When the kids were little, of course, Easter was church, lunch, dyeing and hiding Easter eggs. As they got older, varying schedules for work or other events meant that we weren’t necessarily all together every single year for Easter lunch.

Today I found myself feeling some fear, a low level of dread, because of the holidays to come — the ones where we were always together.

If you ask me right now, tonight, I don’t even know if I want to acknowledge Mother’s Day. It’s one of those days when all my kids surround me and humor me by playing games. They write me words. I love their words. I can’t begin to imagine how I will feel when Chandler’s words are absent. I might just pretend that May 12 is not Mother’s Day. Maybe each of my kids, just this year, can pick a different day and take me to lunch or something. Or maybe this is just crazy talk, and I will snap out of it and allow Mother’s Day to be what it is. Just different. So very different.

Then all our birthdays — from June to September, with Chandler’s landing on July 2.

Thanksgiving.

Christmas.

I already feel a heaviness for what’s to come. I’m an optimist. It’s easy for me to flip a situation and see the silver lining, the best case scenario. But I would be kidding myself to think these days to come will not bring a whole new brand of pain. I’m on a ship in the middle of the ocean with news that a storm is coming. It’s coming for sure. There’s no magic escape route. I know that all I can do is hunker down and ride it out.

I pull myself back to now. That’s one of the ways I can honor Chandler.

Live in this moment. WWHC.

The Shape of Hope

Today is the day. Easter. The day those of us in the Christian tradition celebrate the resurrection of Christ from the dead. I will tell you that I could not have navigated these past 129 days if not for my hope that is rooted in this day. I believe there is a power greater than death. I believe that because of this power, I will see my son again. And I believe the essence of this power is love. Pure love.

A while back, a friend on staff at The Bridge church in Rancho Santa Margarita asked me if I would be willing to share my story as part of their Easter in the Park service. I consider it a privilege to share our story, to share about Chandler.

What I would write here in this blog today is exactly what was expressed in the video my friend filmed for the Easter in the Park service. So here it is.

Tomorrow, Easter Monday…I have to share with you what an amazing day we had today.

Happy Easter. He is risen. And that makes ALL the difference.

Chandler, Look!!!

Back in November, I was starting to go to the driving range so I could get into the game of golf rather than just whacking at the ball and watching it roll three feet. Or worse, injuring my wrists because I struck a sound blow to the greens instead of the ball. Besides playing with Chip, I had planned on going out with Chandler. He was supposed to take me to the range and give me some tips, but because of the incessant rain in November, the range had been closed every time we planned to go. That sort of makes me sick, because what an amazing memory we could have made with him telling me, “Mom, keep this up and this down and this straight and this parallel.”

So today I met one of Chandler’s best friends at the course. They used to play together all the time. I told him Chandler was supposed to come out with me and give me some tips, but it never happened. He grinned and said, “Well, I just gave you all the tips I used to give Chandler.”

By the end of the lesson, Grant had me hitting up and out. I hadn’t hit since November, so I was pretty happy just to make contact with the ball.

At one point, Grant said, “Let me see your glove…” As he examined the glove on my right hand, the realization hit that I was wearing the glove backward on the wrong hand. I joked, “Oh, Chandler, you didn’t know your mom was so special, did you.” it sure felt better on the correct hand….the Velcro didn’t scratch me.

I loved hearing Grant’s stories about Chandler. They lived so much of life together — in the ocean, on the river, or on the golf course, three of Chandler’s favorite places. As I was leaving, I said, “Chandler had the best friends.” Grant grinned and responded, “That’s because Chandler was the best friend.” My heart welled with pride and my eyes with tears.

I’m so proud of my son. I’m under no delusion that he would have always received the “best behaved” award — unless you were the parent in a home where he was helping clean up after a party or the dad whose daughter Chandler kept from being inappropriately hit on by some loser. In the things that matter most, Chandler was the kind of person I want my kids to be. I am sad that I didn’t understand the totality of that while he was alive on this planet.

If everything I believe is true, Chandler was watching today’s golf lesson with a big grin, saying, “My buddy Grant is telling my mom exactly what he told me. ‘Keep your elbow next to your body on your backswing.’ She should do it cuz’ it actually works!"

Lesson on a Hike -- Thriving Despite

Yesterday morning, I went on a hike with a couple of my Adventure Sisters. I can’t think of a better way to start my day.

The first great thing to report is that we saw NO rattlesnakes. I’ve heard they are really bad this year. As opposed to the years when they are really good. I know it’s their home and all, but I want them to stay in bed sleeping when I visit their home.

The second great thing to report is that nature is alive and well at Whiting Ranch. So many vibrant colors. Every shade of green you can imagine. Flowers in sunshine yellow, royal purple, and creamy white. Everywhere I looked, I encountered a God who loves color, shape, contour, and whimsy. Like the yucca plant standing tall above the ground, bursting with flowers on top, and adorning spikes on bottom to protect it from predators who might scavenge the flowers.

The third great thing to report is that the trees are thriving despite the presence of a bark beetle. Apparently, from what I understand, there is a bark beetle that has been wreaking havoc on the trees around here. But this year, as anyone from SoCal knows, there has been a lot of rain. And the abundance of water has helped the trees flourish even though the bark beetles haven’t gone away.

Pain, loss, hardship, grief — they are all present in life. They don’t go away. But we can thrive despite them.

HOW????

We access the water that is available to us….

*God who is WITH us, loves us, hurts with us, comforts us and gives us strength and hope for each new day.

*Friends who encourage us, cry and laugh with us, clean out our refrigerators, paint our bathrooms, and listen — always listen.

*Good food that keeps us healthy and strong — and that we enjoy!

*Movement. Walking releases endorphins and helps alleviate stress and depression.

*Books. Or books on tape if you prefer! So many treasures to be uncovered. A wealth of wisdom, encouragement, inspiration.

The water is here for us. We can thrive. Despite…

Popcorn, Heat, and Grilled Meat

I’m grateful for every good gift I was blessed to receive today.

Dropping Charli off at school.

Enjoying a ridiculously addicting heaping bowl of fresh popped popcorn with pink Himalayan salt and Italian butter from a mom who has spoiled me with delicious things both before and after December 15.

Sharing the magical “pop” with my friends at work when I opened a new home-brewed bottle of kombucha. For kombucha-ites, the “pop” means you had a successful home brew!

Receiving an Easter egg with “Hope” written on it from another friend at work. Since December 15, I’ve had to grapple with the question, “What is hope…really?” More to come on that.

Hugs from friends. And from a special little princess in our preschool. Texts saying, “Praying for you.”

Meeting new families coming to tour Mission Hills Christian School. I love hearing their stories.

Picking up Charli from school.

Working out in 125-degree heat at HotWorx. Yes, I know it’s like a hot flash on purpose. But I love it.

Ending the day with wonderful friends. Laughter, great conversation, and grilled meat. What’s better than that?

The only thing better than that is if I’d gotten home, put on my pajamas, sat down to read, and heard Chandler coming through the front door. That would be better.

Maybe someday, I won’t think in terms of, “This would have been a perfect day IF Chandler….” Maybe there will be more absolutely perfect days to come.

For today, this was as good as it gets.

Feet Up Kind of Day

Today was filled with all kinds of good.

Slept in. You know how I feel about that.

Went for a long walk with my friend Carole and enjoyed a Starbucks while strolling around the lake.

Lounged by the pool with icy cold Kyla — a new kombucha obsession of mine.

Watched Charli play soccer. Always a treat.

Went to a local restaurant on the lake and enjoyed the view over a scrumptious lunch.

Came home and kicked up our feet by the pool again.

For dinner, savored homemade Greek lemon chicken soup, farro salad, and jalapeno margaritas.

Ended the day with our feet up watching Green Book.

Mingled among all the wonderful moments were thoughts of Chandler, conversations about Chandler, and feelings of emptiness because he’s not here.

But all in all, I have to say, this was one of the more relaxing, peaceful, joy-filled days so far.

A feet up kind of day, for sure.

Help

This morning at work, I was feeling heavy hearted.

Rita dropped by with a hug , some kombucha, and a couple of journals. Later, Ana gave me Harmony Tea and a beautiful leather bracelet that says “Choose Joy.” Also, a hug.

I sat in my chair and looked out to the mountains. My heart welled up with gratitude. I said, “God, you are taking care of me. You see me. You are so good to me.” Tears fell.

I can’t tell you how many times in the past eight years at Mission Hills I’ve looked out my window up at the beautiful Saddleback Mountains and contemplated this Scripture:

Psalm 121
1 I lift up my eyes to the mountains—

where does my help come from?

2 My help comes from the Lord,

the Maker of heaven and earth.

I grabbed my phone, opened up Bible Gateway to Psalm 21, and clicked on audio so I could let the words fill my soul.

1 I lift up my eyes to the mountains—

where does my help come from?

2 My help comes from the Lord,

the Maker of heaven and earth.

3 He will not let your foot slip—

he who watches over you will not slumber;

4 indeed, he who watches over Israel

will neither slumber nor sleep.

5 The Lord watches over you—

the Lord is your shade at your right hand;

6 the sun will not harm you by day,

nor the moon by night.

7 The Lord will keep you from all harm—

he will watch over your life;

8 the Lord will watch over your coming and going

both now and forevermore.

Thank you, God, for bringing me back to this place. To this school, to this office, to this view of the mountains to remind me that my help comes from YOU. That you are watching over me. Thank you!

I began to feel hopeful and a bit lighter. My friend Wendy came in and saw I was crying.

Another hug. Much needed.

Every single day, the Lord sends His help to me…in just the form I need in that moment.

A hug, a kombucha, a “Choose Joy” bracelet…

A mountain view.

New Cleats and a Moment of Connection

A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned that I would be talking about an encounter Charli and I had on our way to LA for a little getaway. Well, now it’s time. It’s nothing that will make the headlines, but it was a special moment for us and for Elias I think.

Charli needed new soccer cleats. Since we were on our way to LA, we decided to stop by Sportspage in Fountain Valley, the best place to find affordable, quality cleats. And we have lots of fun memories of going there when Charli was young to get cleats with her pony-tailed teammates.

Elias is the owner. He is passionate about soccer and about outfitting soccer players, the peewees up through the pros, with the best possible gear. When you check out at the counter, he can tell you stories about which pro soccer players wear the model of shoe that you’ve picked out and why.

Charli was ecstatic that Sportspage had several versions of her all-time favorite cleat — Nike CTR360. We narrowed it down to two pairs (she’ll go through the first pair in six months) and laid them on the counter in front of Elias. He did not disappoint. He told us how Landon Donovan of LA Galaxy had worn the very model of cleats Charli had chosen.

I noticed a picture of a young man taped to Elias’ computer monitor. The picture was accompanied by a poem about a boy in heaven. I asked about the picture. Elias told me this was his son. He died two years ago suddenly of a brain aneurysm. He had been an accomplished athlete, undoubtedly the pride of Elias’ heart.

I told him I was so sorry he had lost his son and that I had lost my son on January 1. Usually a fount of words, Elias sat silent, staring for a few seconds into eyes that knew, that felt the shape of his pain.

We talked about how unnatural it feels to lose your child. How it really is the worst thing.

He asked Charli how she was doing losing her brother. She replied, “It’s really hard, but you just get through it.”

Elias said, essentially, it’s hard sometimes to keep going.

I told him, “People need you. You don’t just sell cleats. You make memories for families. I remember bringing Charli here when she was younger and how much fun it was. “Yes, this morning a grandparent came in with his grandson.” I showed him my “WWHC” ring and said, “You honor your son by doing what you love, what you’re passionate about.”

Elias told me to bring in a picture of my son and he would put it up in the store. I did.

I pray for Elias. That his heart, like mine, will heal. Not forget. But heal. That the bleeding will stop and the acute pain will ease and he will have less moments when he feels like it might be too hard to keep going.

It’s funny how a new pair of cleats can lead to a moment of connection between two strangers. Simply because we both know.

And today's highlights...

Best moment of today….

My friend Tracey dropped by with a gift for me and a grin that said, “I know you’re gonna love this.”

I reached in the bag and pulled out this adorable wienie dog purse!!! I LOVE it! It just makes me happy. How can wienie dogs in any form not make you happy? My friend is a fellow wienie dog fan, and she knew this would make my day. I showed my real wienie dog, D’Marcus, when I got home. He wasn’t impressed. But he’s not much for fashion anyway. And he might be just a bit jealous.

I proudly showed off my new doxie bag tonight as I made my round of returns and more purchases, 3/4 of which will be on my returns list by the weekend. This is WHY I haven’t redecorated my house in 15 years people! This is what I become!

Also, I just bottled my second batch of home-brewed kombucha this afternoon! Strawberry basil and jalapeno cucumber. Yum, yum! Now I wait for a couple of days and then burp it. I don’t have to change its diaper though.

Other highlights - hugs from friends, dark chocolate and a bag of dried pineapple (thanks Wendy), great conversation with Chance, laughing with Chase and Karen about my OCDness while trying to load my 6th trial area rug into the car, finding a fabulous rug for my entryway for $19 at Ross, and watching TV with Charli.

Here’s the lowlight. Chandler isn’t here. I don’t mean that to be a downer. It just is what it is. If I’m being honest as I write about this journey, I have to say that for every moment of joy in a day, for every belly laugh, for every breath I take above the water, there is another moment when I’m below the surface fighting for air, trying to find my way out of the undertow.

Still. I’m grateful for the highlights of this day.

And I love my wienie dog purse.

Celebration of Life Video & Three Months

It’s not hard to remember the anniversary. An anniversary I don’t want to celebrate. The first of every month.

Today was tough. But I got up and brushed my teeth. I started working on my to-do list even though I did not feel like it. I love deleting my to-do items on my phone as I finish them.

I listened a few times to A Little Bit Stronger by Sara Evans. It talks about continuing to move and live in spite of and beyond the pain. I hope I’m getting a little stronger every day…on a variety of levels. If I am, I don’t particularly feel it right now. I just know I’m grateful for the strength to get up and brush my teeth.

I appreciated every text today to remind me I am being prayed for, loved, and supported through this.

Tonight was exactly what I needed. My friend came over, one of my fellow club members. The hug of someone who knows…it is the greatest comfort. And at the same time, I am sorry that she knows.

On this three-month anniversary of a day I wish had never happened, I want to thank Alec for videotaping Chandler’s celebration of life service. We will treasure it forever.

You are always on our minds and in our hearts, Chandler. You are with us forever. Honestly, that’s not good enough for me. I wants you HERE. I want to hear your voice, to hug you, to walk into the kitchen and see you birdie-ing orange juice out of the carton and putting it back in the fridge.

But here’s where faith comes in. I believe you are celebrating a different anniversary today. An anniversary of complete freedom. I believe you are in a place where there is an abundance of everything that brings you the deepest pleasure and joy. I believe that I will join you someday and watch proudly all the ways you’ve discovered to defy heaven’s version of gravity.

What an astounding 25 years you gave us, Chandler! We love you!

A Dance

Today was a rough day. That’s all I’m going to say about that.

But tonight…all was well with the world.

Tonight, Charli and I were privileged to celebrate the marriage of two fine human beings — Cam and Chloe. Chance was one of the groomsmen. Cam is the generous soul who donated his talents to compile the video for Chandler’s celebration of life video. We’ve known him a long time, and it was wonderful to see him so happy tonight with his beautiful new bride.

After the ceremony came a yummy dinner, toasts, and then dancing. I don’t know how anyone can hear music with any semblance of a beat and not move their body. My kids do not disappoint. I love that they all dance!

I can’t tell you the joy of being on the dance floor with Chance and Charli tonight. I just love these kids of mine. And I love that they dance!

Also, dancing tonight felt like a way of honoring Chandler. If we stop dancing because we’re devastated over losing Chandler, we do not honor him. He would have been in the middle of the dance floor at any party. And he would want the same for us.

At some point during the evening, Chance put on one of Chandler’s leather fur-lined jackets he used to wear to go out dancing. It was one of his treasured thrift store finds. If Chandler was watching tonight’s festivities, he was certainly proud of his brother’s moves and happy that his jacket is still in action.

I’m grateful that a difficult day ended with…

A dance.

A Safe Place

Psalm 91:4 “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge.”

A few weeks ago, a friend at work gave me this picture. I keep it on my desk. I look at it frequently to remind me that I am not alone. That I am safe. That I am cared for by a God who loves me, who hurts with me, who sends me tangible messages every day that He is WITH me. EVERY SINGLE DAY.

My friends rallied around me today in my tears — THANK YOU for hugs and prayers and texts. I don’t know what I did to deserve such amazing people in my life. They ask me, “Are you OK?” And when I say, “I’m having a tough time right now,” they don’t shrink from it. They press into the pain with me. They don’t give me shallow platitudes. They are real and honest with me. They don’t try to fix it because you can’t fix this. They are just WITH me.

When scripture paints a picture of God’s wings being around us, it is referring to the way a mother bird uses her wings to shelter her chicks. Under her wings is the natural place for the baby chick to snuggle into for warmth and safety.

When I am having a really tough time, I picture myself snuggling in underneath the "wings” of the Lord. This is my safe place. My refuge. My shelter. I picture the heart of God hurting for me, WITH me.

Often He sends people as his ambassadors to wrap their arms around me — a clear message that He is with me. This is God’s way of demonstrating His care for me. Of pulling me under His wings.

My refuge. Every single day.

Slack in the Leash

Chip and I were talking today about how so many things we usually love to do don’t bring as much enjoyment now. For me, some of those things would be hiking, reading, bargain shopping, and traveling. It’s not that I don’t enjoy those things. It’s just that often there’s a threshold on the level of fulfillment and happiness I gain from them.

Sometimes I do find myself breaking through the threshold and becoming immersed in the experience. But it seems I always get yanked back to reality. It’s like when you take your dog for a walk on his retractable leash. He gets all excited because you’ve given him so much slack. He runs as fast as he can through the grass, but then suddenly, he comes to the end of the slack, and he stops short, unable to run any further. He has reached the limit of his ability to run free and must deal with the constraints of the leash. That’s how it feels when, in the middle of the best moments, I remember, “Chandler died.”

During our visit to the zoo on Monday, I really wanted to fully enjoy this day with family. When I found myself inevitably at the end of the taut leash, I tried to create some slack for myself. I thought, “How would you be feeling right now if Chandler had not died?” My answer, “I would be fully in this moment, enjoying some of my favorite things on earth — family, nature, sunshine, and animals.”

So I tried to let myself simply be there, letting all painful images and thoughts pass without grabbing on to them. It helped. I found some slack in the leash — some moments of crashing through the threshold.

I won’t say it works every time. I’m not even sure it’s healthy to make it an ongoing habit. Chandler did die. And I do have to feel what that’s like. But I think my little experiment might be helpful sometimes.

Hippos, Flamingos and the Ring-Tailed Lemur

Aaaggghh….today. Thank you, God, for today.

Got to sleep in. You know how I feel about that.

Charli and I met Ellen and a friend at the LA Zoo at 10. Strolling past the giraffes and reptiles and zebras, I savored this time to relax—to be with family and allow myself to be calmed by the wonders of the animal world and the beautiful greenery throughout the zoo.

First, I had to do some talking to myself. We entered the zoo about the same time as a family with two little boys, about the same age span as Chance and Chandler. In the best of circumstances, I wax nostalgic for those simple days. Today, I had to stop myself from remembering that dimpled cutie running around with his brothers, wrestling and doing what little boys do instead of just walking from point A to point B. It was just too hard to go there.

Every time I’m at the zoo, I’m reminded of God’s sense of humor. How can you look at the stilt-like legs of a flamingo, the half-horse/half-zebra coloring of an okapi, or the perfect pompadour of the East-African gray-crowned crane and not know that their designer was smart, creative, and funny. I look at the intricate, beautiful pattern on the back of the Santa Catalina Island rattlesnake, and I’m comforted in a strange way. My creator knows what He’s doing. He’s brilliant. He’s creative. He does marvelous things, and I can trust His hand in my life.

We came to the enclosure for the ring-tailed lemur.

When Chandler was in 3rd grade, he had to do a report on an animal. He chose the ring-tailed lemur. We went to a local zoo and spent the day so he could see the ring-tailed lemur in person. I always remember that when I run across the ring-tailed lemur on any visit to the zoo. Today I remembered deeply. I remembered Chandler, always curious, standing at the lemur’s enclosure at the Santa Ana Zoo. I remember him running from one animal to the next, though never directly. Always meandering on top of planters, benches and anything else that would move him a bit further above sea level.

I don’t want to brag, but I will say that I am quite certain that Chandler’s report was surely the most eloquently stated, thorough body of information on the ring-tailed lemur to date.

Today I joined an elite group of people. Thanks to Ellen, the queen of all things adventurous (she travelled to Antarctica just to see the penguins), we joined in the Hippo Encounter and the Flamingo Mingle. So now if I’m ever playing one of those games where people have to say something they’ve done that most other people haven’t – you should probably bet on me. I have touched a hippo and fed a flamingo. My pants, still reeking of krill, will attest.

I’m grateful for the moments of peace, togetherness, laughter, wonder, and warmth that made up this day. I’m grateful that I was able to move through the hard moments while not denying their presence. I think this will be the way for a while.