Early Christmas

My first thought when I opened my eyes this morning was….”I have to do this, and I don’t want to.” Since Charli was sick yesterday, all the final Christmas shopping got pushed to today. I knew it would be a zoo out there, and I was not loving the idea of braving the lines, the traffic, the scarcity of parking spots, the crowds, and such. I prayed, “God, give me the energy to do what I need to do today.” I was at my first shopping destination by 9:30, no traffic, parking spots right up front, and only a handful of people in the store!

Charli was home recuperating, so she didn’t join me, but I NEEDED her! She’s such a good gift picker! So I walked around the store with her on Facetime asking, “What about this one?” She helped me pick some good stuff, as usual.

Long story short, I was able to get all my shopping done and everything wrapped (with Charli’s help) and under the tree by 6:30 tonight when we were to begin our family’s early Christmas celebration.

Chip made dinner — beer can chicken, stuffing, salad, and guacamole. Then we opened gifts by the fire. Chip gave each of us a black beanie embroidered with a white silhouette of Chandler on his bike. We will wear them proudly.

One thing I learned tonight…when you print a certificate for a gift, make sure your spouse hasn’t put expensive mailing labels in the printer. For a couple of the gifts, I gave coupons and printed out pictures of those items. When I pulled them off the printer, I thought, “What the heck is wrong with the printer! There are lots of lines across these pictures.” Then I realized it was because the paper was actually a sheet of mailing labels Chip had put in the printer unbeknownst to me. When the kids opened those gift coupons and commented on their sheet of stickers, Chip asked “Are those my mailing labels???” I will check the printer next time, babe….promise. But at least now, Charli has stickers of Harry Styles’ nose, eyes, hair, etc.

Today’s Chandler-ness:
10/15/98 - I was doing my Bible study and asked you, “Who are some important people in your life?” Your reply — “Everybody, cuz God made them.”

Plans Deferred

This morning we had our special Christmas chapel at school. I knew it would likely be difficult because at last year’s chapel, they said a special farewell to me (I was leaving to do speech therapy at Beach Kids) and then I left and drove straight to the hospital to be with Chandler at our new home in SICU. This year’s chapel was in a different location on campus than last year’s, so I thought it would mediate some of the difficulty.

The first song I heard when I walked into chapel was “Oh, Holy Night.” We played that song in Chandler’s room on Christmas Eve last year. I sang a couple of verses and then decided to retreat to my office where I could sob in private. My friend Joanne came in and gave me a hug. It was good to be able to talk about it.

I blew my nose and resolved to make another attempt at chapel. Under normal circumstances, watching those kids perform their songs and scripture readings makes me happy. I didn’t want to miss it. I walked back upstairs to chapel in time to hear the beginning of Silent Night by one of the lower elementary classes. It was sweet and beautiful…and I had to leave. Too many emotions tied to past Christmases — last year, for sure, but also going back to the days when Chandler with his cute little dimples would stand on stage at church with the other kids and sing their well-rehearsed Christmas songs.

I went back to my office and got some work done. Also enjoyed visits from lots of friends stopping by to say Merry Christmas.

The rest of the day has been a detour. Charli and I were supposed to finish up our Christmas shopping, but instead, she’s been on the couch sick, snuggled under her fuzzy poinsettia Christmas blanket.

All in all, it’s been a day of deferred plans. Instead of stressing over not getting the Christmas shopping done, I’m going to light the fire and the candles and watch something Christmas-y with my girl. Oh, and maybe take advantage of online shopping. Just a bit.

Today’s Chandler-ness:
(No Chandler quotes today, but a snapshot of the “spirited” nature of sweet little Chandler)
6/20/99 - What’s gotten into you? In one week, you threw mud on the neighbor’s door, asked for eggs from neighbors “So Mom could make cookies,” pooped in the trash can for the neighbors to see, and mooned the neighbor kids!

The List

Charli and I went Christmas shopping today. She is so good at picking gifts, especially for her brothers. Today we were shopping for one less brother. I hate that Chandler isn’t on the list. He’s supposed to be on the list until I die, not until he does.

And yet, today was a good day. Charli and I enjoyed a peanut caramel apple (a gift from a friend at work), shopped, and are about to relax by the fire and watch a movie.

I welcome the hours and days, especially during this season, when it seems the cloud lifts and my face basks in pure sunlight. When my heart beats its normal pace and my thoughts land on simple matters like which Christmas shirt to wear and whether to sip on a glass of pinot noir or a cup of tea.

Still, I know the other hours and days are not bad. They are not abnormal. They are part of this whole process, and they just mean I loved someone so deeply, it’s impossible for everything in my life not to be changed by his passing.

About the picture: No, it’s not the Espinoza version of Kids, I Shrunk Your Dad. It was my photographically challenged way of splicing Chip into the photo since he’s the one who took it.

Today’s Chandler-ness:
6/13/96 - Chandler, today at breakfast you were eating yogurt and you said, “Let’s pretend it’s sunscreen.” And you rubbed it all over your body.

Chandler's Tree

Chandler’s little tree has found its new home this year on our mantel. A friend brought the table-top tree last December, along with the tiny ornaments, so we would all have a taste of Christmas cheer at Mission Hospital’s ICU.

As I unpacked it a couple of weeks ago, I noticed paperclips attached to the little gold and silver balls. I remembered last year’s flash of inspiration that lead me to the nurse’s station to ask if I could borrow paper clips to hang the ornaments on Chandler’s tree.

Today was so very different from its counterpart last year. A different kind of pain. A different kind of hope. December 17, 2018, every part of me ached seeing my son lying in a hospital bed, unable to move, or open his eyes, or breathe on his own, or eat, or speak….or be the Chandler we know. A stream of hope ran alongside the pain. Hope that he would live through that night. Hope that when they began to wean him off his meds in the days or weeks to come, he would open his eyes, look at us, and utter some Chandler-ism that only he could come up with in such a circumstance. Hope that, against all odds, he would be able to walk again.

Today I slept in, enjoyed a bowl of oatmeal with melted peanut butter, worked out on my Pilates reformer, and listened to an Advent retreat meditation on my Pray as You Go app. I happened on this series of meditations on “accident” when I was scrolling through the app to find a way to contact Pray as You Go to let them know what a blessing their devotionals have been to me these past months. I clicked on a tab that said “Retreats and Series” and there it was – New Beginnings Advent Retreat 2019. Today’s meditation was on New Beginnings with Mary. It said, “Sometimes a new beginning is hidden in what seems to be an ending.” This spoke to me. I will be contemplating what this looks like in the days and weeks to come.

I went in to work this afternoon. A friend dropped by and blessed me more than I can say with a gift bag full of goodies I love and a miniature tree with its own light-up star that I’ll place at Chandler’s bike memorial. The greatest blessing was her word of encouragement to me. She let me know that she has shared my blog with people who have lost loved ones and it has helped them. I’ve said it many times -- one of the strongest gusts of wind in my sails is when I hear that somehow my choice to process out loud this journey of losing Chandler has been a help to someone else.

After school we had our annual staff Christmas party. For my food contribution, I attempted to warm up mini Gorgonzola puff pastries in the staff kitchen toaster oven. Apparently, you’re supposed to put those plastic trays on a metal tray inside the oven for baking, and since I put them directly on to the oven rack, the plastic tray melted. In prying the delicate pastries out of the melted trays, several of them broke apart and I had to eat them. The few that were left were of the “blackened” variety. Lesson learned.

After the party, I drove about half an hour away to a Michael’s craft store for a knitting/crocheting class. I’ve been trying in earnest to crochet a scarf only to end up with a really long chain and no idea how to start a second row, a necessity if you want to make anything besides a never-ending chain that stretches from here to China. The teacher was so kind and patient. I think it was physically painful for her to see the yarn draped haphazardly across my hand, my fingers groping to find the correct “v” to crochet into, and my stitches taking on no consistent size or shape. I walked away with a small crocheted rectangle that will eventually become a scarf -- if I can keep my stitches straight and my morale high -- or a pencil skirt for a Barbie doll.

Now I’m sitting by the fire writing while Charli studies for finals.

Compared to last December 17….the pain and the hope are both present. They are just shaped differently.

Today’s Chandler-ness:
12/2/99 – At dinner last night…
Chip: OK, let’s talk about Christmas.
Chandler: OK, wait, wait, wait. Let’s talk about Jesus, ‘cuz he’s at the point of it..

Christmas Flick

The other day, I asked Chip to name his favorite Christmas movies. In his top three was Die Hard.

What!!??? I couldn’t for the life of me recall Die Hard as being a movie that captured the Christmas spirit. Later I Googled it. Sure enough, it’s a regular on lists of most popular Christmas movies.

Today after school, our school staff and the staff of The Bridge Church had a little Christmas get-together, including OF COURSE some games. Yours truly along with the children’s pastor at The Bridge won some nifty Christmas cookie cutters complete with sprinkles and frosting for being the first to find our match by asking for clues about what word from a Christmas song title was stuck to our backs. He was the “Silent” to my “Night.”

Another game involved moving to the left or right side of the room to indicate which one in a pair of two holiday-themed items was your preference. Interestingly, in the battle between ham or turkey, it was a virtual tie. Disneyland beat out Knotts Berry Farm by a landslide for best place to go at Christmas time. And between opening gifts on Christmas eve or Christmas day, Christmas day appeared to be the winner. One of the questions paired Die Hard with Christmas Vacation. I’ll watch Christmas Vacation again in a pinch, but because I remembered Chip’s response to me a week ago and because I can tend, on occasion, to be a bit of a contrarian, I remained on the left side of the room — the one designated for the lovers of Die Hard. I still couldn’t remember how it had anything to do with Christmas.

So tonight I came home and asked Chip to watch Die Hard with me. I had to make an honest woman out of myself and at least know why I might choose Die Hard over Christmas Vacation if I were ever to play that game again.

Chip whipped up a homemade jalapeno and sausage pizza, and I made a pot of spicy kale sausage soup. We lit the fireplace and some candles, propped our feet up, and watched that classic Christmas flick Die Hard.

I get it now, sort of. The movie is set at Christmas time with all the accompanying lights and decorations, and there are lots of references to Christmas carols. But the edge-of-your-seat shoot-em-up suspense isn’t typically the first thing I think of when I think “Christmas movie.”

So now I can say that my choice to stay on the left side of the room with the Die Hard fans was an honest one. Maybe I should watch Christmas Vacation next just to confirm. It’s been a while.

For warm fuzzies and engendering Christmas cheer, I will always be on the side of the room with Elf. “I like smiling. Smiling’s my favorite.”

Today’s Chandler-ness:
3/5/97 - You stood on the front porch naked with a baseball cap on and a play guitar around your neck singing “Jesus is Just Alright With Me.”

Brothers Together

It’s been a long day.

I went into the office for a bit, then did some errands. My foot hurt. so I tried to curtail how long I spent in each store, BUT — there’s Christmas stuff everywhere, and I love it, but I am horrible at making decisions about which few items to add to my modest collection of decorations that appear each Christmas. I did my best to decide and get out, but by the time I got home, it was time to turn around and go back to school for a board meeting. It’s always good to be with these people who care so deeply about our school and about each other. It was a late one though.

Long story short, I got home just a bit ago, put on my PJs, loaded the dishwasher, and sat down to write. I’m pooped.

I have an early morning tomorrow, so I don’t have the luxury of leisurely contemplation about what’s stirring in my soul that needs to show up on my screen.

SO, without further ado, here is…

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

Source

Every generous act and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights. James 1:17

The word that comes to me today is “source.” God is my Source. This is coming clearer as the bedrock truth of my life.

Oh, I won’t live it perfectly…ever. I will always have the tendency to doubt, to question, to fret, and to take matters into my own hands. But the moments when the veil lifts and I really “get it” will serve as sustaining reminders that when all is said and done, everything in my life that is good -- that reflects light – is from my Source. I am keenly aware of those lifted-veil occasions these days.

I’m grateful for those moments today when I was the open-handed recipient of good gifts.

The day started with a mission to find a box of ornaments I’d been searching for since last weekend. I didn’t want to have to replace them, mostly for sentimental reasons. After looking throughout the garage multiple times to no avail, a thought occurred to me. I asked Chip, “Have those boxes under the pool table been there for more than a year?” Sure enough, turns out the plethora of boxes containing Chance’s band paraphernalia that had been stored under the pool table for over a year had one lone oddball mixed in that had written in Sharpie across the top “Gold balls, gold string beads.” I was so happy to find it!

Once we found the gold bead strings, Charli and I were able to decorate the tree together. First comes the bead garland, then our ornaments we’ve collected throughout 36 years of marriage, then the gold and silver balls recovered from the missing box.

Nothing at all against the trees with the perfectly executed ornament placement, carefully planned themes, and Magnolia-inspired color schemes, but I love our Las Vegas-esque multi-colored flashing tree with the hodge-podge of ornaments.

I knew I would run across an ornament made by Chandler. It found a prominent place in the middle of the tree.

Many of our ornaments are rag-tag from having been unpacked, hung, repacked and stored from year to year. Each has a story to tell. Many of those stories, we can’t even recall, but we know that most of our ornaments were given to us by friends, were chosen by us at our yearly Roger’s Gardens visit, or were hand-crafted by the four CHs. They are more than just a random collection of Christmas decorations that have seen better days. They represent the unfolding of the life of our family, including the addition of more “Ch” names to various ornaments as the Espinoza family expanded through these past 36 years.

After we decorated the tree, Charli asked if I wanted to go shopping with her for a dress she needs for an upcoming formal event. What??!!! The answer to that question, or any opportunity to spend time with my girl, is always YES. Such fun watching her trying on dresses and finally finding the one. Our time at the mall ended with jasmine green milk tea, hers with boba, mine without.

Tonight Charli, Chip and I went next door to have dinner with friends. It was relaxing and so nice to hear stories about their lives and to share stories about ours. I don’t take for granted having these good people next door or living in a neighborhood where people look out for one another.

And now, I am enjoying a most lovely closing of this day – fireplace glowing just beyond my propped up feet, candles flickering, Christmas carols faintly playing on SiriusXM.

God, my Source, thank you for every single generous act that is helping carry our family through this most difficult season. For every good gift…for your peace, your comfort, your presence, your strength…I thank you. Help me look to you at every turn for what I need. Remind me always that it is all in you. Amen.

All Shall Be Well

There is no light here, we think. But we think wrong.

There is a light in us that only darkness itself can illuminate. It is the glowing calm that comes over us when we finally surrender to the ultimate truth of creation: that there is a God and we are not it….at that moment, spiritual vision illuminates all the rest of life. And it is that light that shines in the darkness. Sister Joan Chittister

Last night, I fell asleep with tears on my pillow.

Chip was asleep. Charli was downstairs doing homework. I was alone inside my own thoughts…thoughts of Chandler.

I prayed, “God, please hold my heart. It hurts so much. I need you. I cannot get through this without you.” I felt a sense of peace, a reassurance that all will be well.

This is the light that shines for me in the dark.

All shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well. Julian of Norwich.

(The picture today is the Facebook memory that popped up first thing this morning. This time five years ago, we were all visiting Grandpa Bill, my Daddy, in Texas and took him to watch the ponies run at Delta Downs. He gave us all money to place bets because he wanted us to enjoy the races. This was Chandler’s long-hair phase….way longer than mine and Charli’s put together. It doesn’t seem real that Daddy and Chandler now occupy the same dimension.)

Today’s Chandler-ness:
8/26/97 - Today we went to the beach at Newport with the Waymans. Chase kept saying, “I caught a wave, Mom!” You said on the way home, “I catched a wave in my hand and then let it go.”

Maybe Not So Christmas-y

I’ve been pondering what may possibly be the least Christmas-y topic.

Death.

Not in a morbid or morose way. More from a philosophical viewpoint. Although, I’m sure at this point in my processing, the philosophical and the pragmatic are inextricably linked. Because of the mental, spiritual, emotional complexities of losing Chandler, I had an epiphany a couple of days ago.

Death is not an anomaly.

Other than birth, it is the one experience every human being who has ever existed will experience. We all have this in common. So why does it seem so surprising, so out-of-place when it happens?

Well, for one thing, if it’s a child dying before his or her parent…it just doesn’t follow the proper order. If it’s a young mom dying of brain cancer, leaving her kids to grow up without her, it feels premature and unjust. If it’s a marathon runner who has every health advantage imaginable, it doesn’t add up. The circumstances and the timing and the manner and so many other details surrounding this universal experience of death cause many of us to wrestle with it, to question our faith, to pound the ground and scream in anger.

I’m trying to wrap my mind around the fact that either before me or after me, Chandler would have died. So what I most disagree with is the timing. Too young. And before his parents. That’s something I’ll have to take up with the Lord someday. Or, more than likely, once I get there, it will become a completely moot point.

I’m not attempting to simplify, minimize, or deny the absolute shittiness of losing my son. I’m just beginning to realize that learning to accept death as a universal, natural part of life – as much a part of life as birth -- has the potential to transform the way I live the rest of my days. I’m not sure what that looks like. But I’m a willing student.

Honestly, I don’t like the idea of death, certainly for people I care about, and also for myself. I love my life. I don’t want to think of it ever ending…of someday leaving my family and friends. Of no longer being able to explore this beautiful world and pursue new goals and do meaningful work.

However, I do have the promise of a life after this one that is beyond anything I could imagine. And…

I will see Chandler.

Today’s Chandler-ness:
6/3/98 – You asked,“What kind of Cindy is that?” Translated – What’s her last name? Or what does she look like? Or which Cindy is that?

Precious Gift and Normal Shoes

As I was unpacking some Christmas decorations this weekend, I pulled out a small Ziploc baggie labeled: To Chandler from Jamie, December 2018. Inside was a delicate, ivory-colored glass nativity set. After Chandler’s accident, a friend of a friend – yes, someone who didn’t even know us – made this beautiful nativity set and gave it to Chandler. He didn’t see it then, but I have to believe he sees it now. This will have a treasured place each year as we set up our Christmas decorations — a reminder that in the worst of circumstances, God moved on the hearts of people we didn’t even know to show up for us.

Good news from my foot doctor today. The bone has healed well and in good position from the bunion repair. Still a good bit of swelling, but he said that’s normal and will gradually improve. He asked how the plantar fasciitis is doing, and I unfortunately had to report that so far the plantar fasciitis procedure (platelet-rich plasma-PRP) has not yielded any substantial relief from the heel pain. Thankfully, he said not to worry, that it could take a full three months before I start feeling any significant effects from the PRP.

As far as activities, I can now ride a stationary bike and do weight-bearing exercises on my feet. No lunges or squats. No hiking, running, or high impact exercise yet, but I can begin walking. Yoga in three weeks! His adamant orders – if it hurts, don’t do it. I go back in six weeks when I’m hoping he will release me to all regular activity.

So really the most important outcome of today’s doctor visit is -- I can wear normal shoes!!! Well, not all normal shoes. No sandals (including my Birkenstocks which look hideously festive with cheesy Christmas socks), no heels, and no flats. No prolonged walking barefoot yet. That’s a tough one for a girl from the Texas boondocks. Shoes are so optional for me. I’ve attended Charli’s back-to-school night barefoot (forgot to put them in the car), gone shopping at Lowe’s barefoot, and had to drop Charli and Chase off for our excursion to Knott’s Berry Farm and go buy myself some shoes when I discovered upon arrival that, once again, I’d forgotten to throw on a pair before leaving our house about 45 minutes from the amusement park.

You can take the girl out of the country, but…

Today’s Chandler-ness:
8-9-98 – Jesus and God don’t get diarrhea.

Little Black Hole

Today’s Chandler-ness:
3/19/98 - Today you were sitting so quietly on the front porch steps, so cute, and when I asked, “What are you doing?”, you said, “Just thinkin’ bout how I can hit that ball way over into that black hole.” You wanted to hit a little ball across the yard with a golf club into a trench around a tree.

This was before Chandler had ever actually golfed. Grandpa James had given the boys some clubs to play around with, and almost immediately, the game found its way into Chandler’s psyche.

I’m grateful that Chandler had golf in his life. I’m grateful for all his friendships that had their genesis or were deepened on the course. I’m grateful it was a game Chandler and his dad loved together.

Often Chandler would squeeze in a few holes before work or when he was anxious about something and wanted to relax. The golf course was a happy place for Chandler. Except when he picked up the baby rattlesnake on the back nine because he thought it was a stick and then proceeded to play with it, resulting in a bite and a trip via ambulance to the hospital.

The golf bug (or snake) hasn’t bitten me yet, but I’ve gotten glimpses of why Chandler and Chip love the game so much. Basically, it happens when I make contact with the ball instead of the ground and manage to hit it into the air, forward, more than 10 feet, in the general direction of the hole. It’s that sound of club hitting ball and then seeing it soar. That’s what gets you. And when you sink a long putt into that little black hole. Note, when I say glimpses, I mean infrequent, random glimpses, not consistent, motivational glimpses that happen enough to trigger the addiction response.

Chandler was a natural, with a handicap of 4 and consistently driving the ball 280-290 yards.

My handicap is, well…golf.

Thank you, God, for a good day of soccer, sunshine, dinner with family, and the warmth of a fireplace. Thank you for the many hours Chandler spent hitting a ball into a little black hole — it was good for his soul. Thank you for your sustaining grace one day at a time. Amen.

Weather

Today Chip and I watched Charli play soccer in the rain. The weather alternated between cloudy and sunny, freezing and fairly warm, downpour to drizzle to dry.

It is a mirror of my internal atmosphere right now. If there were a barometer or a Doppler radar that could render an image of what’s going on, it would reveal the most erratic weather patterns. Partly cloudy with some sun followed by a category 4 storm giving way to part sun on the heels of thundershowers.

We are about to eat leftover turkey for dinner, light a fire in the fireplace, and watch a movie. Under normal circumstances, that would be pure joy. At this point in our grief process, it is welcome relaxation and cherished time together. But when the movie’s over, Chandler still isn’t here.

I feel this more acutely than I have in a while, though it’s always a new reality, a new normal, I’m constantly absorbing a little at a time. I can’t say I’ve settled into it. It doesn’t feel like a new normal. It feels abnormal and not right. And I don’t like it. Not one bit.

Mostly sunny doesn’t seem to be in the forecast in the immediate future. But you never know. Weather can surprise you.

Today’s Chandler-ness:
5/22/98 – The other day you had circles under your eyes from lack of sleep, and I told you it was bedtime. The next day, you said, “Jesus can do anything he wants, and he’s so powerful. But when he gets circles under his eyes, he has to go to bed.”

Even in the Dark

“Dark” seems to be one of the words I reach for first when trying to express what this is right now.

After reading yesterday’s blog post, Chandler’s Grandma Shari told me about a recent conversation with Aunt Cho (her daughter) about “dark.”

Aunt Cho used to fly the U2. That’s not a metaphor for being a groupie with Bono and the band. She literally flew the U2 spy plane. When she looked at the moon she was reminded that it had no light of its own . . . it can only reflect the light of the sun.

Later Aunt Cho flew for United airlines. She often flew over the Hudson River at night. It was an inky black space among the lights of NYC. But when there was moonlight, it was reflected off the water of the river. In the words of Aunt Cho, "Even the dark can reflect the light."

Even the dark.

John 1:5 The light shines in the dark and the darkness does not overcome it.

Today’s Chandler-ness:
6/3/98 - I found a miniature leather jacket you guys won at Treasure Island in the plastic bag of grated cheese in the refrigerator. I had a hunch that was your doing. Sure enough, I asked why you did that and you replied, “Just cuz I wanted to.”

I Wonder

Before buying the “legit” skate ramps that occupied most of the space in the two-car garage of our condo, Chandler and his brothers would devise their own. A couple of tool boxes and a piece of plywood on a curb equaled hours of pure bliss.

Tonight I look through Chandler’s album and see a toddler, a little boy, a young man who drank deeply of life.

And I wonder…

How long before the sound and sight of an ambulance ceases to highjack my thoughts and hasten my heart rate?

How long before looking at pictures of Chandler brings mostly pleasant, joyful memories rather than an ache in my heart?

How long before the days leading up to any holiday are marked by anticipation, not dread?

I know there is no discreet answer because every grief process is personal. I also know, from talking with those who’ve walked this road before me, that it does “soften.” The loss, the missing, the empty place, the wishing they were with you remains. But the feelings, the weight of it, changes. I think that must be true because how could those of us who are left ever lead sustainable lives otherwise? How could you endure the pain of loss if it remained fresh, acute, year after year after year?

Since January 1, Chip and I have often said to one another some version of, “It hurts so much. I don’t know what to do with it.”

I only know what I do. I let the intense darkness fall…let the pain wash over me. I feel it. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I don’t. I remind myself that I’ve felt this before, and it subsided. It did not remain at that unbearable level of intensity for days and days on end with no reprieve. There were always moments of relief. As time goes on, except for times like this -- leading up to holidays -- there seem to be a few more moments of relief that add up to hours and sometimes days.

While I tend to look on the bright side, to always find the life lesson in any situation, I am learning that sometimes faith allows you to experience the dark night without a need to point to an inevitable positive outcome. It’s OK to just be sad. In sadness, we find a companionship with Christ, a fellowship with his kind heart, that can elude us when we rush always to the silver lining.

Today’s Chandler-ness:
9/29/97 Tonight while we were reviewing the family contract, you said, “If you blow up the house, you get a sad face.”

To Be Known

Chase was…is… crazy about his little brothers and his baby sister. Never a moment of jealousy. He wholeheartedly welcomed each of them into his world even though the single, focused spotlight that had shone on him for the first four years of his life broadened to include his new siblings.

I love this picture. How does it get any better? Lounging on your giant teddy bear in your Sylvester boxers and your mullet listening to your big bro read Are You My Mother?

Lately I’ve wanted ….or maybe felt compelled…to post pictures from Chandler’s old-school picture album, whether they have anything to do with that day’s blog post or not. I think it’s because we are moving closer to December 15…and January 1.

I want Chandler to be remembered. I want his smile to continue bringing joy. I want his life…his whole life…to be appreciated. I want him to be known.

Today’s Chandler-ness:
11/5/98 - You refused to say “thank you” and “please” tonight for some food. Finally, you became yourself again and said, “May I have milk, please?” I said, “You’re back…where was my son? Did he go on vacation?” You said, “I’m glad I got my thank yous back. Now I can get my stuff when I ask for it.”

Change

What’s up with this picture? Chandler’s wearing a shirt…and look who’s not!

Man, how I miss those times! The simple joys of snack after a baseball game, siblings all in tow, baths all around, and early bedtimes complete with stories, prayers, kisses and hugs.

I think of the line from the Fleetwood Mac song…. “Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’ cuz I’ve built my life around you.”

This time last year, I was facing some big life changes. Two of them, I anticipated. The third, not at all.

A year ago today, Charli got her driver license. Since September 10, 1987, I had served as the privileged chauffeur for four Espinoza kids and their friends and team members. That ended on November 19, 2018.

Yes, it was sometimes tiring, dropping off at an event half an hour or more from home and finding a Starbucks to hang out at for the next few hours until pickup time. Yes, sometimes my car smelled like a balled up athletic sock that had been thrown into a hamper damp and left for a month. But I wouldn’t trade a minute of it for anything on earth. I cherished being in their lives and in their friends’ lives. That time in the car was sacred — a time for singing, talking, laughing, or just being in close proximity to my favorite people.

I didn’t really have the opportunity to settle into that new reality last year…to grieve that season of my life being over. Why not just throw it into the mix this year, right?

Also, this time last year, I was planning to end my time as Admissions Director at Mission Hills Christian School in order to be an SLPA (speech-language pathology assistant) at a wonderful therapy center called Beach Kids. My last day at Mission Hills was to be December 31. It was such a difficult decision. I loved my job, my team, and my families at Mission Hills. But it made sense to make the move since I had studied for over two years to earn a 2nd bachelors degree and then a license to work in speech therapy.

I had asked Chip if he would be available to take me to lunch on December 21, the day they would do their “farewell” for me in chapel before Christmas break. I knew it would be an emotional day.

I actually attended that chapel on December 21. It was an emotional day for an entirely different reason. A different change.

Change is the one constant. Some changes are a result of our own choosing. Some happen despite our best efforts to prevent them. Some we recognize as good and necessary, but we kick and scream the whole time because it’s just not easy.

When the change involves your own flesh and blood being ripped out of your life, it takes on its own environment. The typical guidelines for negotiating change don’t apply. The light and air is sucked out of the room, and you frantically grope in the dark for a cracked window or a fissure in the wall where fresh air seeps in. You need breath in order to get your bearings.

I like the change where you get your nasty carpet ripped out and replaced with new wood floors. I like the change where you swap your old phone for an upgrade for just a “minimal” fee. I like the change where you show up to your hotel and they don’t have your room ready so they put you in a suite instead. I like the change where the 7 am soccer game gets rained out and you get to sleep in.

Not all change is like that.

Whatever change awaits me, anticipated or not, I will not face it alone.

I am with you always [remaining with you perpetually—regardless of circumstance, and on every occasion], even to the end of the age. Matthew 28:20

Today’s Chandler-ness:
3/31/98 - Why is dogs not invited to my birthday party?

A Friend in Need

The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares. ― Henri Nouwen, Out of Solitude: Three Meditations on the Christian Life

If in a lifetime, a person finds a friend who is caring, loyal and truly present in the most difficult of times, that person is blessed. I am grateful beyond words that God has blessed me, surrounded me, with honest, listening, compassionate people who I am honored to call friends.

Falling into the strength of my friends is not difficult for me. That’s just how I happen to be wired. I will be the first to yell out, “I need help!” I don’t want to be a burden, but I’m just naïve enough to believe that when friends say, “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask,” they mean it.

I try to look at it from my point of view. If a friend calls or texts to ask for help, for prayer, for a listening ear, for anything at all….I feel honored that she (or he) would consider me a “go-to” type of friend. Whenever possible, I want to show up for my friend in whatever way is most helpful for her. The blessing goes both ways. My friend is blessed, and I am blessed even more because, let’s be honest, it feels good to help meet a need for someone we care about.

Before December 15, I was certainly grateful for my friends. They stuck around when it seemed I’d fallen off the grid with working full time, being a busy mom, and, for a couple of years, juggling all that with going back to school. Thankfully, my friends are gracious and understanding. And when we do get to reconnect, it feels like we haven’t skipped a beat. We pick right up where we left off, and we know that even if life gets crazy and we can’t see one another as often as we’d like, we are in one another’s hearts, prayers, and thoughts.

After December 15, friendship took on a whole new meaning. The word that first comes to mind is “lifeboat.” I was thrown into an unexpected, treacherous storm. My friends reached into the turbulence, pulled me onto a lifeboat and have held onto me for dear life.

Dear God, I can’t thank you enough for friends. They are “Jesus with skin on” to me. Please give me the selflessness and generosity of spirit to show up for them like they have shown up for me….over and over again. Amen.

Today’s Chandler-ness:
Last night you went potty in the toilet, and when you went to flush it, you said, “Now the peepee has to go home.” You also ran around the outside of the house stark naked yelling, “Cool runnings!”

Simple...Happy...Chandler-ness

It was a happy day! And a big reminder that simple things absolutely matter.

So yesterday I got promoted from a surgical boot to an athletic shoe—woohoo! No open shoes or flats for another three weeks. I asked, “What can I do now that I couldn’t do since my last follow-up?” He was pretty clear — no lower body workouts or excessive walking. “Take it easy,” he says. BUT….he said I could actually “go to the gym” and do upper body workouts.

So this afternoon — after a month of sitting on my butt — I got to work out for the first time!!! I’ve so missed my HotWorx sessions (love me some heat!), and as I scanned my brain for possible workouts involving zero lower body, I remembered the HotBlaster. It’s a stationary bike, but the handle bars move like an elliptical machine. I figured if I balanced both feet, one in front of the other, on the bar in the center and just worked the handle bars, I could get a decent cardio and upper body workout since I’m forbidden to pedal just yet. I suppose I could pedal with the right, but who wants to be lopsided at the end of three weeks? When I walked into the HotBlaster sauna, I was surprised and delighted to see foot bars I could rest my feet on! Easy peasy.

I hopped on and went at it — arms only, Dr. Cox….I promise, arms only. I can’t even say how happy it made me to just move my body again! To sweat and get my heart rate up! Just 15 minutes in the 125-degree far infra-red heat and my workout was done. More progress toward my post-foot-surgery normal. And I have to say now that I’m home on the couch with my foot propped up, I seem to have better range of motion with my big toe exercises and no extra swelling, a definite concern given the extreme heat.

For anyone interested, having my foot in the sun for two hours at soccer on Saturday resulted in some decent swelling and pain. Fifteen minutes in far infra-red heat has resulted in no extra swelling and better range of motion.

On my way home, I drove by the bike, ready to be disappointed again since they didn’t seem to be doing their job when I drove by last night. I was ready to fire them for gross incompetence, return them, and get a new set. Another pleasant surprise — they were lit up and flashing…not completely unlike Vegas. Chandler loved Vegas, so there you go. Apparently Chip accidentally put them in flashing mode when he flipped the “on” switch Sunday. No idea why they decided to work tonight but not last night. If they continue that irresponsible behavior, they will be dismissed. For tonight though, it made me happy to see them light up the night… Chandler style.

One thing I’ve learned since Chandler’s accident and that’s really hit home again during my month on the couch — do not take the simple things for granted. Any number of significant events could have happened today in my life, but I don’t know that any would have caused me more joy than sitting on a bike in the heat pulling the handle bars back and forth and driving by a bike with flashing lights.

Today’s Chandler-ness:
11/17/99 -
Today was Blue Ribbon day at school (for winning Nat’l Blue Ribbon award). This morning you said, “This is going to be the best day ever (as you dressed all in blue for the theme)! A couple seconds later, you called to me, “Mom.” “Yes, son.” “What’s blue day?”

At school you had a blue donut, pizza, a blue cupcake and blue punch. After school, I took you to Baskin-Robbins for ice cream because you had earned two cards for following the rules. It was one of those “best times of my life.” We sat and talked while you ate your daquiri ice cream and I sipped my cappuccino blaster. I told you that of all the wonderful things I get to do in my life, my favorite is to be with you and your brothers and your dad. I said, “Someday you’ll get married and have kids and I’ll take them to ice cream. And they’ll call me grandma instead of Mom, and they’ll call you Dad.” You said,”I’m not getting married.”

Mom: That’s OK. You don’t have to get married. But if you meet someone you love, like I met your dad and he met me, you’ll want to get married.”

Chandler: And it won’t be embarrassing?

Mom: No, why would it be embarrassing?

Chandler: Cuz if you’re not a grown-up.

I clarified that you won’t marry til you’re a grown-up.

This Chandler-ness to be continued tomorrow…

Timely Reminder

I woke up to exactly what I needed today. My friend Gail texted:
I was at the Michael W. Smith concert tonight…prayed for you when this came on!!!!

Along with the text was a video of the first few seconds of Surrounded (Fight My Battles).

Gail sent me this song soon after Chandler died, but I just couldn’t listen. Finally, this summer, I clicked the arrow.

This is how I fight my battles
It may look like I’m surrounded
But I’m surrounded by you.

Just 18 words over and over, but the simplicity of their truth penetrated my heart. I wept and prayed and knew…this was my way through. Surrounded by almighty God. Loving. Strong. Gracious.

The timing for this morning’s text was perfect. I clicked and cried. I needed this reminder — my battles are fought through prayer, through surrender, through praise, through trust.

Though grief itself is not an enemy, I feel as if I’m standing at the edge of a battlefield. One of Cambridge Dictionary’s definitions for “battle” is: an encounter or engagement between opposing forces. Hope versus despair. Joy versus anguish. Trust versus fear. In the weeks to come, I will likely experience each of these. That is perfectly normal. By the grace of God and for His glory…hope, joy, and trust will prevail. That is my prayer.

Today’s Chandler-ness:
1/6/99 - Did you know I have a mask I wear that makes me cute? I put it on every day, and at night I take it off.

More Favorite Things

Four years ago, I had the most handsome dance partner with the best moves on the floor. Chandler and I danced almost every dance at our friend’s wedding. Facebook reminded me of that yesterday. Dancing…one of my favorite things.

Today I got to do another one of my favorite things – watch Charli do one of her favorite things. Her team won! She scored and had an overall great game. To say my daughter much prefers winning over losing it to put it in the mildest terms possible. Chip and I, along with Aunt Cho, Ellen, Chase and Karen were in the stands celebrating the win. We all went to lunch at Selma’s after the game. Those are the best times. Another of my favorite things.

I exercised some prophylactic measures with regard to my foot today after learning my lesson at yesterday’s game. Too much heat and walking made for a swollen, throbbing foot last night. So today, I wrapped a handy dandy ice pack around my foot to keep it cool during the game.

Tomorrow, if all goes well, my podiatrist will tell me I can wear an athletic shoe. Not a particularly sexy development, but after a Frankenstein boot this past month, even my Birkenstocks are looking pretty edgy.

This foot recovery period has me rethinking some things. For one, typically, when I’m outside moving my body, I’m running or doing some kind of interval training. In other words, I’m kind of on a mission to work out. I think all this forced immobility has bred in me a deep appreciation for the simplicity of walking. Right now I’m envisioning a peaceful, relaxed stroll around the lake. I’m even toying with the idea of adding a walking meditation to my morning routine.

Another thing I want to add into my life once I’m all healed up…more dancing. Yesterday’s Facebook memory with my sweet boy reminded me that dancing is one of my happiest happy places. And it was one of Chandler’s. So why wouldn’t I do it?

Walking and dancing. Two things I’m really looking forward to.

But first…enjoy this moment.

Today’s Chandler-ness:
8/10/97 -
Chandler: Mom, did your grandma die?
Me: Yes.
Chandler: We need to go buy you a new one.