Gratitude...Still

I don’t know if it’s possible to overstate how grateful I am for my family.

The day started with the 8 am service at St. John’s Church where Chip and I listened to an inspiring sermon on gratitude by Reverend Karen. Afterward, we went grocery shopping. So by 10 am when we were putting away groceries, we were feeling pretty accomplished.

Around noon, Charli and I went to try a new pho (pronounced fuh) restaurant, Thanh Binh. I’m not normally a huge pho fan, but this was delicious! Rice noodles, basil, jalapeno, broth, bean sprouts, lime juice, grilled chicken. Charli got Thai tea with boba, and I got plain Thai tea. It must not have contained a great amount of caffeine because I didn’t hit the roof and begin talking like an auctioneer. A couple of lact-aid tablets (there’s milk in the Thai tea) helped ensure safe transit to Irvine where we watched a community theatre production of High School Musical. One of Charli’s friends since kindergarten played the lead male role,Troy Bolton. Yes, I knew the words and sang along.

So that brings me to this evening.

We just spent about four hours discussing politics and life in general over Charli’s family birthday dinner, playing games, and laughing. A lot.

One of the games we played was called Who’s Most Likely To… You pull a card and read the statement and everyone decides who in the game is most likely to fit that description. One of the first statements was, “Volunteers to ride in trunk of car.” Although we hadn’t planned ahead of time to deal Chandler in on this game, the immediate spontaneous group response was, “Chandler.” Another such statement -- “Pees outside even though the bathroom is open.” The person who is voted “most likely to” the most times wins the game. Chandler won even though he wasn’t at the table as he would have been if not for December 15. I imagined Chandler grinning ear to ear, seeing our family laugh as we always have, still including him in the mix…an inextricable facet of who we are.

These people fill up my soul. I love their smiles, their laughter, their intellect, their hard work ethic, their sharp wit, their deep convictions, their willingness to question and grapple, their devotion to one another. Their love for Chandler and lack of hesitation to say his name.

These people are healing to me.

I began the day with a sermon on gratitude. I end the day with a heart full of it.

Nothing Except Gratitude

Often, I know exactly what I’m going to write about when I open up my laptop. Other times, I have a vague idea, and it takes shape as I begin to type. Today as I begin writing my blog, nothing jumps out at me except how grateful I am to have gotten through a day with no gut punches and none of the tidal waves that come from out of nowhere it seems.

I don’t even know if that’s a good thing, the absence of tidal waves or gut punches. I just know it gives me some time to recover and get ready for the next round.

I feel sometimes like I’m waiting for a shoe to drop. I’ve not experienced depression since January 1, and it seems too good to be true. Is there something I’m not acknowledging, an area of denial, a pocket of pain so deep I can’t yet reach what’s at the bottom? I’ve continued to function and live my life. Not just survive but ENJOY my life. I should probably just be grateful and shut up.

At any rate, the gift of being able to process out loud, to share my thoughts with people who care, to receive with an open heart the love and encouragement that comes my way, to help others through this involuntary journey I’m on through this blog….it is one of the greatest sources of strength for me right now.

Tonight’s Chandler-ness:
8-16-99 - Chandler: “I know that Jesus had a jackass.” You were excited to find a legitimate way to say that work.

Pizza, Pop Tarts & Liberty in North Korea

Throughout the past 18 years, Charli has had quite a variety of birthday parties.

Hannah Montana, Snow White, Ninja Turtles/Princess hybrid (she does have three brothers), Princess Jasmine, bounce house, Dora the Explorer, pool parties, Chuck E. Cheese, Vines, and the ever-popular Quince-ñoza — the Espinoza version of the traditional Quinceañera.

When I asked Charli what she wanted to do this year for her 18th, she said she wanted to keep it simple, no fancy decorations or complicated menu items. She asked for pizza, hot cheetos, pop tarts for dessert, and a piñata. She designed her invitation and sent it out herself. In lieu of gifts, Charli asked her friends to donate to Liberty in North Korea (LINK), an organization dedicated to rescuing North Korean refugees. Charli volunteers for this organization and is starting a club for LINK at her high school.

So tonight we had about 40 teenagers come and go throughout the evening. I can tell you that pepperoni is the clear winner over cheese or Hawaiian. Brown sugar frosted pop tarts kick unfrosted strawberry pop tarts’ butts. Teenagers like Mountain Dew. And the piñata breaks much more quickly if you’re not using a blindfold.

During clean-up, I rolled one of the coolers out to the back patio and poured out the ice. Before I could blink an eye, Maddie (our senior citizen chocolate lab) had plopped herself down on the ice as if it were her bed. That was a sight to see.

A handful of kids are still going strong playing pool.

It’s been a very good day.

Tonight’s Chandler-ness
10-15-2000 - Mom, you know why they call it a Bible. Cuz it makes a sound like a bass (as he thumps it closed.)

Seven Months of Missing

This is what it looks like when two young men miss their best friend.

They missed him when they drove up to the corner and parked. They missed him while walking up to the bike. They missed him while sweeping, while tidying up flowers, while rearranging solar lights that keep the love glowing even into the night.

My heart hurts for Chandler’s friends. And there were many.

Chandler valued friendship above all else. He was loyal. If you were his friend, he absolutely had your back. He was your cheerleader, your advocate, your defender…sometimes on a level that may have included a punch or two. He came by that honestly….thank you, Grandpa Bill.

Almost every day, I would hear Chandler say, “I’m going to meet my buddy ____” I thought surely he was making some of this up. How could he have that many friends that he cared so deeply about. But he did. If he called you his friend, he meant it. He didn’t gossip about you. He didn’t play you. He didn’t use you. He was in your corner.

I’m not saying Chandler was perfect. Who is? But he held a core value that guided his life — if you say that someone is your friend, act like it.

Seven months ago, I knew some…not all…of this. I didn’t know the depth and breadth of Chandler’s impact on so many lives. Now, I am inspired by Chandler to love people well, to BE WITH them when I’m with them, to listen deeply, to have their backs.

God, please comfort the hearts of Chandler’s friends. How difficult to lose a peer, a friend, with whom you have laughed and played and worked and who is part of the everyday fabric of your life. Give them strength to begin each new day with the intention of honoring Chandler through their actions — love people well, be in the moment, do the next right thing. Amen.

Fresh Flowers and Flashbacks

THANK YOU to the kind people who brought fresh flowers to Chandler’s bike memorial! I’ve seen them when I drive by each day, but today I decided to stop and visit. There were a couple of notes that made my heart happy and achey at the same time. The Happy Birthday note in sidewalk chalk is still there. The constantly appearing reminders that Chandler is remembered, loved, and missed mean so much to me.

As I got out of the car to walk to the bike, I said to myself, “Wouldn’t it be great if I could visit the bike and have my first and primary emotion be joy for Chandler’s life?”

It would be great if my mind didn’t flash back to what happened there at the corner of Via Honesto and Antonio. It would be great if my gut and my heart didn’t ache for all that Chandler went through here but instead I could wrap my mind around the reality that Chandler is not afraid or in pain right now and never will be again…that he is more fully alive and joyful than ever. I’m just not there.

My mind gets stuck right there at that corner, wanting to rewind time so that I could have been there to hold my son as he lay on the asphalt, tell him I love him, ride with him to the hospital, whispering words of comfort the whole way. Hell, if I’m rewinding time, let me rewind even further so that Chandler arrives safely to work at Board & Brew for his Saturday night shift.

There is so much to process. I can only do it a little at a time. Thankfully, that’s all I need to do.

Tonight’s Chandler-ness:
11-29-97 The other day at church in your class, they asked, “What are you thankful for?” You said, “I’m thankful for my Mom that stays home every day all day alone and that we get to pick up my brothers at school.” That made my day.

Vague Isn't an Option

Tonight I was privileged to celebrate my beautiful, brilliant friend Cathy who recently graduated with her Masters in English and Creative Writing. The celebration dinner was held at a lovely outdoor restaurant called The Farmhouse in the middle of Roger’s Gardens, a local garden center. I am quite certain the marinated grilled vegetable salad and the mustard seed cheese were delivered to our table directly from God. Somehow the cheese board landed beside my plate and never managed to move down the table.

I enjoyed chatting with the ladies seated near me, and I successfully remained vague when they asked about my kids. When they asked their ages, I rattled them off as if nothing were out of the ordinary. I am absolutely not opposed to talking about Chandler, even with people I’ve just met, but I do try to consider the context in deciding what to share. In this context, I did not want to bring a negative vibe to my friend’s celebration. So I decided just to list their ages and leave it at that. No harm, no foul.

Then someone else sitting beside me asked, “So what do each of your kids do?” Remaining vague wasn’t an option. I thought for a split second about saying that Chandler is a biker and loves to do anything that defies gravity. I knew that would just come out weird. He may very well be biking and defying gravity at this moment. But not on this planet. And I think that’s what she was asking about. What do your kids on this planet do? I couldn’t use the past tense — “Chandler was a biker and loved to defy gravity.” Her follow-up question would have been, “Was?”

So I started with Chase, then moved on to Chance, giving some general sense of what they’re each doing. Then I took a breath and said calmly, “My youngest son died January 1. And my daughter, about to turn 18, is a senior in high school.” That part between Chance and Charli, that should not be among the descriptions of what your kids are doing. It just shouldn’t.

Driving home, I missed a turn on my GPS…yes, WITH my GPS on, I still missed a turn. Don’t ask. It’s a gift. So I ended up on Crown Valley Parkway, the main road to the hospital Chandler was in. As I got closer to the hospital. I said audibly, “I hate this hospital. I hate this road.” I began to feel afraid — what is it going to be like in December if I have to drive by this hospital? I don’t want to relive this nightmare in my mind.

I pulled my thoughts back to the moment and tried to be fully present behind the wheel. Fully present. Still feeling pain. But trying not to borrow worry from tomorrow.

I know that whatever comes, I am in the hands of a good, loving, present God who just keeps showing up. In the Farmhouse and on Crown Valley Parkway.

Stuff That Matters

More soccer today and lunch at the Beach Hut in Oceanside beforehand. The avocado toast — so yummy! Avocado, sunflower seeds, lemon, sprouts, tomato, wholewheat bread, feta cheese. Will be copying this at home.

Stomach still not totally happy with me, but no extended time in the port-a-potty and no curling up in a ball on the field.

Charli’s team is moving on to semi-finals, so we have to leave at 6:10 in the morning to get to Oceanside. You can imagine how much I love that.

So tonight I had a choice. Chance was home, and we started talking about stuff that matters to us and about which we don’t claim to know the answers. I could have ended the conversation and written my blog. Or we could continue fleshing out the nuances of our thinking. I chose the latter.

I’ve got to get in bed because I will already have a predisposition toward grumpiness at 6 am. At least I can mitigate it somewhat by getting a decent night’s sleep.

Thank you, God, for the joy of family time today, of watching Charli play her heart out, of delicious food, of rich conversation with Chance that makes me so proud of who he is. I know 6 am will come early…please fool my body into thinking it’s 8! Amen.

Surf Cup and Stomach Woes

Surf Cup Summer 2019 — Charli’s last. Today it was a treat to watch her play once again with her friend Nicki. They started out together at seven years old in AYSO and have played together on two club teams through the years. This year they are back together, and we get to watch them on the field as seniors.

I can’t tell you how much I love watching my girl play the game she fell in love with at five years old. I remember going to sign her up for the youngest age group AYSO offered. They told us that unless they had some parents volunteer to coach, not all the girls would get to play. I had not one inkling about the game of soccer, so of course, I volunteered, went to the coaching clinic, and received my team roster. We were assigned the ugliest colors ever — peach and green (no offense to anyone who has hung onto that home color scheme since the 80s). Since the matching team hair bows at that age are of primary importance, I went to every fabric and craft store within miles trying to find the right putrid peach and dull forest green to match the uniforms. We decided to call ourselves the Peach Panthers.

I gave the Peach Panthers three jobs: 1) Don’t share the ball with the other team. 2) Be nice to each other. 3) Kick the ball into a goal. Charli did all three jobs. Especially #1 and #3.

I wish I could say the day was all about awesome soccer. Unfortunately, I had a yogurt this morning and a coffee (decaf!) before the first game, and one or both of them hated me. We went to lunch with Aunt Cho who had come to watch Charli play, and by the time we were finished, my stomach was saying mean things to me. When we got back to the field for game two, I was hurting so badly, I curled up in a ball on the grass. The stabbing pains were not too unlike the early to mid stages of labor contractions. I asked Chip and Cho to go buy me some Imodium, having experienced its magic a couple of times in the past.

I had two huge strikes against me during today’s gastric distress — port-a-potties and a romper that criss-crossed, threaded through a loop, and tied in back, pretty much requiring a support team to get it back on after going potty. Thankfully, the ONLY thing that ultimately happened today were severe stomach cramps. But because I had no way of knowing that was going to be the case, I spent the entire 45 minutes that it took Cho and Chip to fetch my magic pills in a hot port-a-potty. On the up side, for 45 minutes I was shielded from dangerous sun exposure.

Probably the smartest thing to do after an insane stomachache is to eat Sidecar gourmet donuts that you find on the kitchen table when you get home. I’m currently laid out on the couch avoiding all unnecessary movement.

If I’m being honest, the Sidecar donuts were worth it.

Today’s Chandler-ness:
1-20-97 - Are I’m not little any more, Mom?

The First 10

This morning I said good-bye to my glorious, peaceful, soul-nourishing four-day spiritual retreat that God was so, so good to provide for me with no planning or obsessing on my part. Thanks to Chip for bidding in the charity silent auction on this week in Palm Desert and to God for making sure the person who actually won the bid could NOT do these dates, so it went to us!!! I can’t even count the ways God has shown up over and over and over, providing exactly what I need, when I need it. I had been thinking about going on a spiritual retreat but didn’t want to have to think about the logistics of it. This week was another of God’s gracious gifts to me.

So here’s a snapshot of my first 10 minutes after touchdown back into real life at 12 Morningstar.

I pull into the driveway, get out, and begin to unload the car. Immediately I notice our new gate. It’s a silhouette of Chandler living his life to its fullest on his bike, taken directly from one of our favorite pics of him. Chip worked with a designer and had it installed this week.

I barely begin absorbing the beauty and the painful context of this permanent reminder of my son’s life when I receive notice from Charli about something that has to be taken care of tonight before she can play soccer in Surf Cup this weekend. So I switch into soccer mom mode and start searching for the appropriate item.

But first, as I walk through the family room and into the kitchen to unpack some leftover food and the borrowed juicer (thanks Wendy!), I notice a blue ceramic lamp (that I love!) mysteriously missing from an end table. After setting down my load on the kitchen counter, I look around, knowing the lamp couldn’t possibly have just disappeared. Aha! There it is, lying on its side on the cabinet in the living room. I go to pick it up only to discover it is no longer in one piece.

Then I realize that the top of my sofa table appears somewhat empty. My plant!!! I ask Charli if that pot has gotten broken too. She says, “No, it died.”

What?!!! No, that was one of the plants that was given to us when Chandler died! I’ve been trying so hard to keep all of those alive.

My heart sinks. Charli tells me she thinks it might be outside.

I look out back on the patio table. WHEW! There it is, not looking too perky, but alive. Chip had noticed its dramatic wilting early this week and put it outside thinking it needed sun. Of course, he couldn’t know that it is just an incredibly thirsty plant that only wants a big drink of water.

On top of all this….I met my friend this afternoon for tea. Let me just say, the earl grey lavender at Harmony Tea House is delicious, but it DOES have caffeine. So everything I experienced within the first 10 minutes of touchdown back home was encountered UNDER THE INFLUENCE! I was jittery, hyper, and kicking myself for not choosing a tea that wouldn’t make me feel like Hammy on Over the Hedge.

Despite the 10-minute rollercoaster upon touchdown, it’s good to be home.

I’m grateful for my family. For a lamp that can be fixed. For a plant that can be revived. For a soccer game that can be played.

And for a beautiful life that can be remembered.

Seven Comes to a Stop

Sometimes I think two completely different people reside in my body.

I love activities. I love adventure. I love attending all the fitness classes at our resort because they’re new and different and fun! I love the concert and the Bingo and the Minute to Win It by the pool, and I love people watching.

But given four full days to myself here in Palm Desert, what have I done? Besides my daily yoga and workout, I’ve mostly stayed in my room, alternating between the couch overlooking the golf course and the balcony where I could indulge my lizard-ness in the 100-degree heat. My journal, books, and purple gel pen have been my constant companions. Most nights I’ve strolled down to the pool at sunset to enjoy the stillness when only a handful of die-hard pool rats were still splashing around and the tips of the trees on the horizon glowed a soft yellow-orange.

If we’re talking enneagram here — and who isn’t these days — the jillion tests I’ve taken can’t decide if I’m a type 3 or a type 7. Let’s say for the sake of this blog, I’m a type 7.

One of the things that is most important for a type 7 is to find space for silence and solitude…stillness. We tend to stay in perpetual motion. We love the next fun activity. The other day at yoga here at the resort, the instructor told the class that I had been to almost all her classes the day before. I said, “I just love activities!” Someone responded, “It’s too bad they don’t give an award for doing the most activities at the resort.” HA! I literally won that award a few years ago when we were on vacation with Bob and Maryellen Willis in St. Lucia!

As much as I love activity and adventure, my soul also craves quiet, stillness, solitude. It’s much easier to stay in motion than it is to seek out stillness. But it is a necessity, not a luxury. In this quiet space, I become grounded in who I am in Christ. I receive comfort and guidance. I reconnect with what is most important.

The three-page brochure of daily resort activities has been sitting on the coffee table since Chip and Charli went home at the beginning of the week. Maybe another time, I would have joined in on every single bingo game, karaoke contest, margarita mixer, and movie night. But not this week.

This week has been a quiet oasis. Water for my soul.

Thank you, God, for knowing exactly what I need and meeting me here in the quiet.

Tonight’s Chandler-ness:
12-9-96 Chandler, I was leaving to go somewhere, and I said, “Chandler, take care of Daddy. He doesn’t feel good.” You said, “Ok, Mom. I’ll take him to the doctor.” I said, “OK.” As I started to drive away, you frantically yelled, “Mom, Mom, Mom…I don’t know how to start the van!”

No Accident

God orchestrates things much better than I ever could. He’s so good.

I had been thinking about getting away for a couple of nights for a spiritual retreat. Wasn’t sure where to go or when. I just knew I needed time alone with God.

 It’s no accident that a few a weeks ago, Chip won a bid at a charity silent auction on a week at a Palm Springs resort. The dates were fixed, so if we’d had anything on our calendar we couldn’t have come. Chip, Charli and I came out Friday, and they went home early for work and soccer. It’s no accident that they had to be home yesterday, and I didn’t. Even the fact that God has blessed me with a job that I can do here remotely this week is no accident. He knew I needed flexibility in this season to do what was healing for my soul.

 So here I am, sitting on a couch overlooking a beautiful green golf course lined with palm and pine trees – a mix of Hawaii and East Texas. My essential oil diffuser is spitting out a cloud of lavender fragrance. My journal, books, and purple gel pen are spread out in front of me on the table, my feet propped up on the adjacent table. My computer is queued up for the next song I’m going to listen to – Another in the Fire.

 For a while, I couldn’t handle worship music. Friends would send me songs to listen to, and I was already feeling so much so deeply, I just wasn’t ready. Yesterday I started scrolling back through texts and messages listening to the songs. Each one spoke to my soul and I cried and cried.

 The song that spoke loudest to me was called Surrounded:
Sometimes I feel like I’m surrounded
But I’m surrounded by you

 The biggest battles I face are against invisible enemies – discouragement, fear, anxiety, pride, self-righteousness, anger, unforgiveness, jealousy, resentment, doubt. It was no accident that my friend Gail sent me that song. The most powerful way to fight these invisible enemies is through prayer and worship -- to consistently remind myself that God is greater, that I am safe in Him, that He is my source, that He surrounds me.

 God, you are so good to me. It is no accident that I am in this quiet space where you are fortifying my soul this week. Thank you for working out the details of my spiritual retreat before I even had the chance to kick into my usual overthinking mode! You are just so good. Amen.

 Tonight’s Chandler-ness:
11-14-99 – When people get married, they don’t do a French kiss. They just do an American kiss and make it last for a long time.

Every Single Morning

Tonight I watched the sun set from a lounge chair by the pool in Palm Springs where I am absolutely digging the 100-degree weather. As the glow of orange slowly disappeared from view, I thought, “It will be brand new tomorrow…a brand new sunrise.”

With every sunrise comes a whole new day filled with the mercies of God. New mercies. A fresh supply.

It never really hit me like that. Maybe because right now, I am in need of all the mercies, old and new. My heart felt encouraged by this sunset reminder that every day is a new opportunity to welcome God’s presence into my life, to watch for His hand at work, to be unconditionally loved by Him.

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. Lamentations 3:22-23

Tonight’s Chandler-ness:
6-13-96 Chandler, today at breakfast you were eating yogurt and you said, “Let’s pretend this is sunscreen.” You were rubbing it all over yourself.

Lead Me....

Psalm 61:2-4
2
From the end of the earth I call to You, when my heart is overwhelmed and weak;
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
3
For You have been a shelter and a refuge for me,
A strong tower against the enemy.
4
Let me dwell in Your tent forever;
Let me take refuge in the shelter of Your wings. Selah.

I love this water and these trees and this sunshine and this big blue sky stretching out above me.

And my heart is heavy tonight. I will be OK because…the Lord. But tonight, and for a while probably, there will be pain. The best I can muster right now is a prayer.

God, be my words when I have none.
Silence my tongue when words need not be spoken.
Humble my heart when it puffs up with the need to be right
Fortify my confidence when I am tempted to shrink from my truth
Block bitterness before its roots ever begin to take hold
Give me courage to seek you when it would be easier to seek external solace
Give me grace to forgive, faith to believe you’ve always got me, and hope for your highest good
Bathe my heart in your peace and love
Help me trust you to carry me through the next minute, the next hour, the next day, and every “next” of my life
AMEN

Word of the Day...

ACTIVITIES!

When Chip looked at the Activity Schedule where we’re staying this week in Palm Desert, he said, “You’re gonna have a great week, babe.”

I don’t set my alarm on vacation unless I have to, and today I didn’t have to. Still, for some reason, I woke up at 6:45. What!? I got back to sleep but woke up again at 7:15. I took that as my body telling me—”Go to yoga!” So I started my day at 7:30 on a yoga mat, breathing in the relaxing aroma of lavender, listening to the trickle of a water feature. That set the tone for the rest of the day. It’s all been lovely.

And hot. Don’t forget hot. It’s Palm Desert in summer. But you know how I feel about hot. It’s AWESOME! Except when I walk indoors. Why can’t there be a middle ground between fry-an-egg-on-the-pavement heat outside and supermarket-freezer-section cold in restaurants and shops?

After yoga, I ran over to the pool for aquaFIT. Of the six fitness activities offered today, I did five! The only one I missed was the one around lunch time because…it was lunchtime.

This afternoon, we caught the live music by the pool. Did not get in the pool. It was the family pool, and I’m not exaggerating when I say I smelled urine just walking around it. It’s a dead giveaway when you’ve been in the water since noon and haven’t exited once despite having drinks brought to you continuously. Get out and go to the bathroom, people!!!

For dinner, I whipped up some delicious brown rice noodles with homemade coconut ginger sauce. Oh, my gosh — it was like fettuccine Alfredo only healthy! Definitely will be repeating that one.

Charli and I are about the watch Stranger Things. Tomorrow morning…no alarm.

And activities. More activities.

Tonight’s Chandler-ness:
1-21-99 Dad, I thought of a mission — Brothers together with Jesus, stuck together with them.

Reminders

This morning I went for a run around Dove Canyon. My plantar fasciitis hurts like heck, but I figure since I’m getting surgery October 7 to fix it, I might as well do whatever I want. Can’t screw it up any worse than it already is. Oh, I also decided to kill two birds with one stone (that’s a pretty somber idiom when you really think about it). I’m getting the bunion on my left foot fixed at the same time as the plantar fasciitis.

I took a detour by the reservoir because, you know….water. The sun shimmered on its surface and made me smile.

As I started my ascent up the next hill, my route converged with another runner — a young man who looked to be in his early 20s, shirtless, with a tattoo and dark hair. I thought of all the days Chandler would stand in the kitchen chatting with us before heading out for a run around Dove or into Coto de Caza — of course shirtless, allowing the world to see the fine artwork covering his entire right side. This must have been what it would look like to run up behind him.

My run took me around by the driving range. As I neared the line of golfers practicing their swings, I saw a young man with a white shirt and brown hair. I thought of all the days Chandler would leave the house wearing his white golf shirt, headed down to the range to hit some balls. His famous line when things weren’t going so well on the course was, “You should’ve seen me on the range.”

Tonight we watched a movie called Meru about mountain climbing. In this movie, a guy sustains a serious head injury and a couple of spinal injuries. It was hard to watch — the stretcher taking him to surgery, the cervical collar, the gnarly stitches. I had to detach from my experience and just watch it as a documentary about someone completely separate from me and with whom I have no emotional attachment.

Sometimes there are several reminders in a day. Sometimes I get to the end of the day and realize there were none. Not that it’s not always top of mind. There are just no triggers or specific memories or reminders some days. There aren’t many of those days at this point.

About to binge watch Stranger Things with Charli. It’s been a good day. Reminders and all.

Tonight’s Chandler-ness:
7-29-96 At swimming lessons you told your teacher you were “drowning” when she let you do a little scrambling before grabbing you out of the water. On the way home I said, “Do you want to go to the pool now?” You said, “Yeah, after I drown to you.”

Not Adding Up

One of the odd things I’ve discovered about grief is that sometimes it hits you in the head, sometimes in the gut, and sometimes both at the same time. Today it hit me in the head.

I pulled up to work trying to wrap my mind around the idea that Chandler is gone. On an intellectual level, it doesn’t compute. He was here six and a half months ago. How could he just not be here? It sounds crazy to have these thoughts, but that’s what goes through my mind sometimes. It’s like you’re all of a sudden faced with a math problem — 2+4 = 5 — and your brain knows it’s wrong.

This afternoon I was talking with a friend in my office and, once again, it didn’t compute. Seven months ago when Joanne and I chatted in my office, Chandler was alive. During the course of my eight years in that office, he popped in at various times with pretty much every hair style you can imagine. It doesn’t make sense that he won’t be coming in again sporting yet another style that only Chandler could pull off.

My friend did something that meant a lot to me today. She told me that she looked on Chandler’s Facebook page after my post the other night just to get to know more about who he was. She said she couldn’t imagine as a mom stumbling upon those pictures and posts and how even though it’s good to see them, it also hurts a lot. I appreciated that she didn’t refrain from bringing up Chandler for fear of reminding me of the pain.

NEWSFLASH: If you know someone who has lost a loved one, there’s no such thing as a reminder of the pain. It’s front and center…always. The best you can do is what my friend did today, acknowledge the reality of the pain and talk about their loved one. If they cry, it means they needed to cry. Not that you did something wrong or need to apologize.

Tonight my mind doesn’t seem to be focused on solving the problem that doesn’t compute. It’s more focused on the dirty dishes in the sink and the clothes in the washer. They make sense.

Tonight’s Chandler-ness:
11-30-03 You mixed up the spelling of prey and pray. I explained the difference. You replied, “Oh, well, I guess that would mean I was eating God. That wouldn’t be very holy.”

Foam, Little People, and Friends

Today at preschool camp, we had a foam pit. They are the coolest things ever. Foam shoots out of a huge nozzle into a square enclosure, filling it up like a swimming pool. The kids have an absolute blast frolicking in the white mass of bubbles. As I was walking across campus today to check it out, a memory popped up on my FB page — a video of me in the foam pit with the kids exactly one year ago today.

I love foam!

When we went to Punta Cana in October, one night there was a foam party at the pool! I would not have missed that for all the chia pets on QVC. Toward the end of the party, the foam machine ceased spitting out its lovely contents, and soon there were only a few blobs of foam left here and there. I literally followed the last little patch of white foam all over the pool until it evaporated completely.

I don’t know why I love foam so much. Add preschoolers to the mix, and oh my! So cute! Those little people remind me, remind us, how important it is to enjoy the gifts this moment brings. When they are in the foam, they are IN the foam, not planning the rest of the day or worrying about what happened yesterday.

This afternoon and evening I was blessed to enjoy the company of two dear friends, one over tea at Starbucks, the other over a Happy Hour drink and shared chicken nachos. There’s nothing better than easy, honest conversation with people you love and who love you back.

Unless maybe it’s a conversation with those friends in FOAM!

Tonight’s Chandler-ness:
6-23-00 I’m not sharing my Burger King with Chance because I’m so full of nothing.

They Keep Me Moving

When I was younger, like in my early 20s, I exercised because who wouldn’t want an excuse to get their jam on at aerobics class wearing Jane Fonda leotards with leg warmers and tights? By the time Chance, my second child, came along, I had a membership to Family Fitness (now 24-Hour Fitness) where I continued with aerobic classes (sans the disturbing thong leotard) as well as step class, kickboxing, and even some weight-lifting classes.

Along the way, I’ve exercised at home to videotapes (the things you stick in a VCR) including Buns of Steel, Billy Blanks’ Tae Bo, and Callanetics. Once the VCR was sufficiently full of credit cards, cheerios and other items deposited by my kids, we upgraded to a DVD player which has accommodated workouts including Max Insanity 30, P90X3, and Hip Hop Abs. Most recently, I’ve discovered the convenience of online programs like BeachBody on Demand and John Garey TV for Pilates.

I think I have always gravitated toward exercise because I saw my daddy do it all my life. — boxing, jumping jacks, weights, isometrics, stretches, walking. Until months before he died, my 94-year-old daddy was still lifting weights in his living room and doing quad extensions in his recliner. Chip used to say that even in his 90s, Daddy could still kick his butt.

Through the years, I have come to realize that moving my body isn’t just a good habit I learned from my daddy….it helps keep me sane. Not literally. Well, maybe.

Studies show that exercise can be effective in preventing and treating depression. When we exercise, our bodies release endorphins, chemicals that help promote positive feelings. I’m all for that. The physical health benefits of exercising comprises a whole long list all its own.

I just know that when I move my body — whether it’s a walk around the lake, a hot yoga session, a hike with friends, a few minutes on a rowing machine, or getting my groove on at a hip hop dance class — I feel better. I’ve always said, “The best exercise is the one you enjoy and will stick with.” For me, that means variety. Monotony is the kiss of death. So I do lots of different things.

Particularly during this season of my life, movement is a spiritual experience for me. When I move, I am reminded how grateful I am for my health and for opportunities to move in so many different ways in so many different contexts, including GOAT YOGA! And I am reminded of my son, in some ways defined by his seemingly effortless movement whether diving, biking, skateboarding, body surfing, dancing, or swinging a golf club.

Daddy, thank you for showing me from my earliest days to your last the joys of staying active. Chandler, your love for movement continues to inspire me to move. And my grieving heart knows that movement is part of my journey toward healing.

Today’s Chandlerness:
(Just turned three years old)
8-23-96 - Last week you jumped off the diving board and swam to the side.

9-21-96 - You went off the high dive twice today!

Water

I realized tonight that water seems to be a common theme in everything that is most healing to me.

The day began in Oceanside, watching the first beach-goers stake their spots on the sand, the fishermen take their places on the pier to cast their first hooks, the early morning joggers plod along the strand, and the surfers line up to catch their first waves. I never tire of people watching and soaking in the sunshine.

But the water….there’s something extra special about it. I could gaze at the waves all day. They remind me that at their most powerful, the power that created them is even greater. The endless expanse of deep blue reminds me of God’s grace and love that know no measure or limits. The steady rolling tide reminds me of God’s faithfulness.

This afternoon, Aunt Cho wanted to take me to lunch for my birthday. When asked where I wanted to eat, I immediately answered, “Carmelita’s on RSM Lake.” It’s not that I was craving Mexican food. I was craving more water. We sat outside for a delicious lunch, easy conversation, and a picture-perfect view of the shimmering lake surrounded by trees against a backdrop of green hills. Food for my belly and my soul, all in one spot.

This evening, Charli and I went for a run around Dove. We took a short detour along a reservoir. Charli said, “That’s so pretty.” I agreed. For a couple of minutes, more water.

As I think about it, it occurs to me that another source of peace and relaxation for me has been floating — when I crawl into the tank of saline water and float there in the silent darkness for an hour. Again…water.

Jesus talks about water.

Whoever drinks the water that I give will never be thirsty again. But the water that I give will become a spring of water within, satisfying his or her thirst for God, welling up to eternal life (John 4:14).

My heart is full of gratitude today. For water.

Today’s Chandler-ness:
12-3-96 I just gave you a little coffee with a bunch of milk. You said, “Thank you, Mom, for getting me coffee with my milk. I berry preciate for me.”

1-13-98 You told me yesterday after I said, “I don’t know if I want you to go to kindergarten. I’ll miss you,” “But I’m still going to marry you after I pass kindergarten and T-ball and I get Dad’s age.”

Everywhere I Look

Today started with a quick run, then Chip and i drove to Oceanside to join friends in their condo right on the beach. I lounged in the sand, taking in the roar of the waves and the sight of the white foam rolling in. And I slept for a bit. Decided to stroll down the beach, then came in for homemade gourmet burgers topped with roasted red pepper and goat cheese. One of the best burgers I’ve ever had in my life.

After lunch, we went for a bike ride along the beach and the harbor. That was absolutely heavenly!

We saw some guys jumping on those bungie cord things they hang between trees these days. One guy did a flip on the cord. I said, “That would have been Chandler.”

Some days, thoughts of Chandler are more prevalent than others. I never know until I arrive at a day what it will be. Maybe because Chandler loved the beach so much, I seemed to see him everywhere I looked today. In the little boy with the extra-large yellow t-shirt raising his arms to be picked up by his dad, in the bungie flipping guy, in the tattooed young man riding his skateboard along the sidewalk.

It has been an emotional couple of weeks, beginning with July 1. My time in nature has fed my soul and helped me stay centered — trees, lakes, mountains and now waves and sand.

Thank you, God, for the opportunity to be in places that fill me up. You created such beauty, and it is exactly what I need.

Tonight’s Chandler-ness:
Circa 2007 - Sauntering into the kitchen as he looks down at his pants and makes a brand new discovery - Mom, did you ever notice, I look good in jeans?!