It is a cozy evening sitting by the fireplace in my home. The usual buzz of the television is pulsing in and out of my ear as I reflectively walk down memory lane. It has been a busy holiday season. A chance to pour out my heart and finish some projects.

The first project, and most difficult to finish, was a book for my children. It's title is Reflections From a Mother's Heart. It is my life penned in my own words. I started it in 1995 with the best intentions of completing it but alas the busyness of life put it on hold. It was only after the unexpected death of Stephen that three years later, in 2008, I pulled it out, promising myself I would finish it. Was it easy to write? At times, yes. Other times it was a tear filled experience as I reflected on things that were bittersweet.

Probably the most poignant entry was the words I penned about their dad (in 1995). As I reread my thoughts I was surprised, but not really, that what I said about their dad then I would have not changed some 15 years later. This book is a history of my life--I hope it will be cherished and shared with my grandchildren. Was it for them or for me I am not sure but they will find it under the tree this Christmas.

The second gift is a personalized set of coasters for each of my children. I painstakingly sifted through over 30 years of photos to find the pictures for each that I thought matched the words on the coasters. Such words as live, love, friends, family. Again it was not easy but as I put the last picture in I was excited to offer this small glimpse down memory lane. They too will be under the tree.

Christmastime is hard for me. Not that I don't rejoice in the reason for this season because I am so glad Jesus was born in a manger to be my Lord and Savior. But I can't help but miss the joy that it was for Stephen and I to celebrate with our children. Stephen only got to spend one Christmas with Isaac, our oldest grandson (not counting the time Kadee was in labor with him on Christmas day.) I imagine him in the midst of our now six grandchildren. I know he would be down on the floor playing with them or snuggled up on the couch watching a movie with them. He would have found special time for each one. And they would have loved snuggle time with Poppa. Oh how I miss you Stephen.

But I have learned that life goes on. That all I can do is be the best Bomma in the world to those precious grandbabies God has blessed me with. That I am the parent left to be involved in my children's lives. That I have to be a good listener and someone who is there for them to lean on. I will never be as soft a spot to land on as Stephen was for them. But I love them all very much and I'm trying hard to fill the void left by Stephen's death.

I am shattered by my loss but not defeated. I have found a new normal. I have reenergized myself with a different job. I have remarried and learned to love again. I will survive--like that old song reminds me. I will blaze new trails, experience life with all its ups and downs. And most of all--I will not lose sight of the hope that lies within me because of Jesus.

Did I buy all the right gifts? Probably not. But more than the gifts this season is about family and togetherness. We will all be together, not in the house on Alderbrook where last we were all together with Dad in 2003. But in a rented house, in Oceanside, continuing the legacy of the Wirick Family. Stephen--I know you would be proud!

Merry Chrismas to everyone--thank you Jesus for your gift of love.

Random Thoughts

It has been a long time since I blogged. I have taken a trip back home to Iowa and spent some time with family and friends. Mostly it was an Italian food fest as I really miss the authentic food there.

My friend Mary Ann and I spent one evening together in Des Moines. We were best friends the last few years I was in Iowa. It's funny how we pick up right where we left off. We haven't kept in touch like we should and once again we made a vow we would do better. She knows me so well. She walked with me through those difficult high school years. She has grieved with me through losses. She always affirms me. We laugh, we cry and it is good to be together. I love her so much for being part of my life and caring so much about me.

It seems like after I have been to Des Moines that I get a bit reflective when I come back home. Mostly I have begun digging through my house again, picking up writing from long ago. I made a decision that I would try to get all my writing in one place. I ordered a new blank book for the beautiful leather cover I bought in 1975 at the Saturday Market in Eugene. I spent a bit of time early this morning reading my poetry from 1973. Some of it is pretty creative. I am not sure my children have ever read any of it. Of course some of it reflects what I thought was love at the time. Not their dad at that point. But the thoughts are still worthwhile. I still want to write a book or at least something that is published--part of my bucket list.

I met some absolutely fascinating people on 3 of the 4 flights I was on.

The first leg of the trip I sat beside a couple but we they weren't interested in talking too much, which was hard for me. I did find out they were on their way to New Orleans. It was also the only trip I was by the window. They were both sleeping and I really needed to use the bathroom. Finally he woke up briefly and I apologized but said I had to get up. They were really nice but it reminded me again why I like the aisle seat.

The second leg I met a 34 year old guy from Alberta, Canada. He was flying to Des Moines to pick up a motorcycle for a friend and then drive it back to Canada. He was so relaxed about the whole thing. Not worried a bit about what he might find. He said if it wasn't a good buy he would walk away. When we said goodbye no one had showed up yet to meet him. I admired his calmness. We spent a good deal of the trip talking about the expectations of marriage and a spouse. He had this hilarious list of what he wanted in a woman that he pulled up on his phone. He is twice divorced and while he said he would never marry again I wasn't convinced. I got a chance to share a bit of my knowledge and experiences particularly as related to marriage. I wish I had asked his name.

Ont the way back to Oregon my first flight sat me next to a young couple with a baby girl Myah. It really is a small world because the mom was from Visalia, which is close to Dinuba, where Steve and I lived for 8 years. It got crazier when I found out she had cousins from Sultana (where I taught school) and indeed I knew two of her cousins.

The last leg of the trip I sat by a man, Duane, who transports prisoners all over the United States. He was picking up a man in Oregon to take back to Tennessee. Of course being a teacher in a correctional facility made conversation easy, sometimes intense. I came away with some books to look into, showed a movie he suggested, to my boys this week and felt renewed in my desire to impact my students. I wasn't supposed to sit by him but I watched an exchange between two girls, one sitting by him and one by me. I asked if they wanted to sit together and I would be willing to trade seats. I think God had that in His plan.

I was set back a bit this week because my friend Kim's son-in-law was killed in a car accident and I went to the graveside service. I am still amazed at the gravity of my grief and how it can be magnified by someone else's loss. As I drove to Nehalem I found myself crying once again for the loss of Stephen. Walking gingerly through the cemetery, to the site of the service, I could picture myself as I stood at Stephen's grave and said that symbolic last goodbye. It was amazing how raw the grief still is sometimes.

Rick and I decided to forego all 4th of July celebrations and we spent the afternoon and evening together. We watched two movies. One was difficult to follow and the second one was quite thought provoking. I think sometimes it is okay to just slow down and relax so this has been good. Pretty amazing for a social butterfly like me.

I will soon be teaching math again--4 out of 5 classes in my school day. I haven't taught math since 2005 so it will be a learning curve for me. I think it is good though to change things up in my teaching. I have written my own lessons these past two years since I switched jobs. I think it keeps me thinking and forces me to grow as a teacher. I hope that when I lose that energy and desire I will retire. I don't want to be the teacher everyone thinks needs to retire.

I value what God has been teaching me these past few months. I am so thankful that I am not stagnant in my walk. I want to continue to grow and mature as a believer. I think I have a few more years before I graduate to heaven but I want to be ready and live each day as if it could be my last.

Hope Renewed

I sang at Celebrate Recovery this past Tuesday. CR is a great program to help people who are struggling with hurts, hangups and habits. I was a last minute trade because someone else was sick. I had been working on two songs. The first was "Wonderful Merciful Savior" which was very appropriate to celebrate Easter. I had also been working on "Temporary Home" a very touching song written by Carrie Underwood. It talks about at certain times in people's lives they may be in a tough situation but that it is just temporary. The last verse talks about a man who is obviously in the hospital and dying. He is surrounded by his family but he reminds them that this earth has just been his temporary home--then he looks up and says, "I can see God's face."

This song has gripped my heart the past month since I first heard it. For I couldn't help but go back in my memories and think of Stephen in those last hours before he died. He was so aware and so caring and gentle to all of us though he knew he was dying. He talked to me of saving a place for me to join him in heaven. Though that night would prove to be the saddest I have ever experienced, I wasn't without hope. I know that I will see Stephen again.

So on this night I was to sing I sat out in my car debating between the two. I went inside and decided I would just ask one person and whatever they said I would do. I have done that before. It didn't take Marcia long to say "Temporary Home". I said ok.

As I waited for my turn to sing I felt the Lord nudging me to share a bit before I sang. I don't normally do that anymore. So as I got up I explained my choice of song. Stephen was wiring what became "Wirick Hall" the very place in which I was going to sing. He wanted the addition to our church to be a place of ministry and if you have been in our church you know God is using that building and particularly "Wirick Hall" for great things. I said this song meant a lot to me because I have hope because this world was just Stephen's temporary home. Then I sang-choking up when I came to the last verse which I changed up a bit:

Dying man, hospital bed

The room is filled with people he loves.

And he says "Don't cry for me, I'll see you all one day."

He looks up and says, "I can see God's face."

This is my temporary home.

It's not where I belong.

Windows and rooms that I'm passing through.

This was just a stop on the way to where I'm going.

I'm not afraid because I know.

This was my temporary home.

Yes, this is our temporary home and as we celebrate Jesus' death on the cross and His resurrection this Easter, we do have HOPE! We have an eternal home in heaven!

Though my voice was simple and country I sang from my heart and I felt God's presence in that room. I know that was the song I was supposed to sing.

I know Stephen's greatest wish would still be for everyone to join him. It is my prayer that you would have the same assurance Stephen had as he stepped from his temporary home to heaven. If we admit we are sinners and that we need Jesus to forgive us our sins, He will forgive us and he can be our Lord and Savior. It's the best gift you will ever receive and you will have a permanent eternal home!

My Children

I wonder sometimes how I could be so blessed as I am with my 3 children. All three have become productive, responsible adults. I often think of how different they are and yet how much of their dad and I is reflected in all of them.

There are a few characteristics that they all have that immediately makes me think of Stephen. The first is that they love movies--and oh how their dad loved a good movie. They like the kinds of movies he watched--not particularly the ones I like. "Star Wars", "Lord of the Rings" are a few that come to mind. I remember many times they would all be with dad watching the movies that mostly sent me to another part of the house. All of them can become so mesmerized by what they are watching that I can't get their attention. If I call and they seem distracted it is usually because they are watching something on TV. Their dad was great at zoning into a movie and blocking out anything else. I think I will have several grandchildren that way also.

I am not sure about Aaron but Kadee and Steph love their nap times. Their dad was a great napper. In fact, I would always make them wake dad up when they were around because he was much sweeter to them if he had to get up.

All of my children have a love for reading. Again, they were drawn more to what Stephen liked: Classics and for Aaron the "Wheel of Time" series and the "Master Commander" books. In the last days of Stephen's life he was reading "Master Commander" and Aaron was a ways behind him in that series. We had bought used books but as Stephen got into the later books it was harder to find them. So, Stephen decided to order the whole series in one big book. He died with less than 100 pages left to read. That book was in his hospital room. I gave it to Aaron. At first he decided to only read to where Stephen stopped. But one day he called and said he wanted to finish the book because he thought that is what his dad would want him to do. I agreed and he finished it.

Here is a brief summary of my children:

Kadee--my oldest by 1 minute, is currently living in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. She is a Pastor at Vancouver Nazarene. She married Matt in 2001. They met while attending Jerusalem University in Israel. Matt is a Youth Pastor and he also works at a mission for the homeless. They have blessed me with 3 beautiful grandsons: Isaac-6, Finnian-4 and Ephraim-8 weeks old.

Steph--my middle child is currently living in Nampa, Idaho. She is an elementary music teacher. She married Chris in 2001. The met at Northwest Nazarene University. Chris is in the final stage of student teaching, is a Youth Pastor at Meridian Friends Church, and transports people who have died to the mortuary. They have blessed me with 3 beautiful grandchildren: Kadee Joy-5, Andrew-4 and Jeffrey-2.

Aaron--my youngest is currently living in Monterey, California. He is a Senior Research Psychologist working for the Department of Defense (Air Force). I hope that's the correct description. He married Dina in 2006. Currently, she is working in Long Beach, California as a clinical psychologist. She will be changing to Palo Alto, California this fall. So, they have temporarily been living apart but trying to meet as much as they can on weekends. They hope to buy a home next fall somewhere between the two cities. I am hoping they may add some more grandchildren to the family.

I believe it was the love Stephen and I had and showed to each other that blessed our children and encouraged them to be all that they could be. Their lives aren't perfect, nobody's life is, but they all have become independent, responsible adults. I am immensely proud of each of them. I love them so much.

I think the most important gifts parents can give their children is to love each other, work through the rough times, be a team, and guide them to become independent, productive citizens. Unfortunately, that might mean they all live more than a few hours away from you, but Stephen and I always wanted our kids to follow their dreams and achieve their goals. I believe they have.

I still find my grief comes out sometimes when I spend time with my kids. There is still a part of me that is sad their dad isn't seeing all they have accomplished. I see my grandchildren and ache to share the joy they are with him. But I know he would be as proud as I am and up there somewhere in heaven he is looking down and smiling.

A New Focus

I have to say that one of the most therapeutic things for me has been a change in my job. After Stephen died I felt like I needed a jolt of something different in order to move forward. I looked into several things--including being a Doula, because I loved being part of the birth of my grandchildren. But I wasn't quite comfortable with letting go of teaching. It provided steady income and benefits which I somehow couldn't walk away from. After all when Stephen died I lost 75% of the income I had become so accustomed to.

3 years after Stephen died I remarried. I was moving forward but was still not convinced that I wanted to stay where I was, doing the same job for the rest of my career. I was in a new relationship but I still felt like I wanted to do something different.

One day I was at a teacher's meeting and someone mentioned that there was an opening at the Youth Correctional Facility. It was teaching incarcerated high school boys in the areas of Language Arts, Social Studies and Health. My ears perked up but more than that my spirit lifted. The idea of totally doing something different from elementary school intrigued me. But on an even deeper level I saw an opportunity to teach in a whole new way, with a whole new focus. It was also the very subjects I was most passionate about. I could actually teach thematically and integrate subjects.

I wrestled with the idea mainly because I was doing good where I was and why would I risk doing something that might not work out. Heck, I might not even get an interview, let alone the job. But as I wrote down the pros and cons something deep inside said, "DO IT!" You might not get the job anyway but if you don't try you will never know.

Some of my friends thought I was crazy because I would go from a school of over 50 adults I interacted with to about 6 teachers and a few other support staff. They thought I would miss the social interaction because I am such a people person. They also thought I would miss the kids because I was one of those teachers who invested in as many kids as I could each day.

There were definitely some financial benefits from this job. I would be teaching year round, 30 more days than my old contract. I wouldn't have summers off but I would be making more money. I also would have better retirement income. I talked it over with Rick and he encouraged me to go for it.

Long story short, I got the job and I can honestly say I LOVE MY JOB! I have been so blessed with this change and I feel I am making a difference in the lives of the boys I teach.

Of course I have days that are hard--there are times when circumstances with my students disappoint me or are painful to hear. I am sad when students leave knowing I probably will never see them again.

But what makes my job so special is that I get an opportunity to make a positive difference in the lives of my boys. I get the privilege of teaching them not just academics, but character qualities that I hope will help them succeed in life after they get out.

I have been able to write and design teaching units that I feel are not just regurgitating facts, but are instilling life lessons that I hope will come to mind when it's time for my boys to reenter society.

I have taught about cancer, death, prejudice, injustice--things I know my boys will deal with in their own lives and subjects I am passionate about.

I read aloud to my boys most every day. Funny books, sad books, adventures, serious subjects. I want my boys to see reading as something of value they can use for the rest of their lives.

I am not sure I would have ever had the opportunity to do this job if Stephen were still alive. I would still be at my old school I'm sure. I guess that's something I have learned through my difficult loss--It was my choice to be bitter or better. I chose to be better. I chose to keep going on even though I didn't really want to.

So if you are reading this my advice to you would be. Find the positive in the negatives of your life. Look for, as someone has said, the "silver lining". There will be times in your life when life doesn't feel very fair, or fun, or bearable.

When Stephen died I was never angry with God. Maybe disappointed a little that Stephen died so young (47). But I had to say not "why me?" but "why not me?" There are no guarantees that life will give you everything you want. Nobody is immune to disappointments or trials. It's what we do with our life in spite of what doesn't seem "fair".

It is funny because the only thing that hurts me is that Stephen will never know what I did after he was gone. Yet, in some spiritual realm, maybe he does know.

My daughter Kadee once said to me, "Dad would be so proud of you mom for what you have gone through and achieved since he died." It meant the world to me to hear that because Stephen was my biggest cheerleader for 28 years, Now, even in his absence, making him proud is always in the back of my mind.

Reflection

I have enjoyed reading blogs for a long time now and wanted to begin one for myself. Mainly to spend some time every now and then reflecting on my life. Opening up and sharing my joys, my sorrows, my inner struggles and how I deal with them. For my own benefit mostly, but if I can speak to someone else through my thoughts then that is great too.

I have always been a writer. Especially in my senior year of high school I began to write daily. It was in Mrs. Myers creative writing class that I found my love for writing. She was one of those rare teachers who had captured the power of personal writing. It wasn't a class with lots of dos and don'ts but rather an open invitation to let go and share your heart through words. I grabbed on to that and ran free. Poetry was my passion and I filled notebook after notebook. I did that through my first 3 years of college. When I got super busy my senior year and met the love of my life I slowed down. I know now looking back how much of a mistake that was. For I have missed capturing so much of my life that I can never get back.

These days as I have struggled with the enormity of personal loss I have often penned my thoughts. Here is one of those writings:

In the dark chasm of grief one rises up ever so slowly to begin to live again. It isn’t easy for the journey is lonely and filled with raw, painful emotions. No one can ever be the same as they were before that moment happened. At best they learn to function partially damaged. Yet the world goes on around them.

After losing the love of my life on February 15, 2005 I wasn’t sure I could go on. The little things about Stephen that I missed so much assaulted my soul on a daily basis. For, he was the love of my life. I had invested 28 years with him. To suddenly, in 3 last breaths, watch him step out of this world into heaven was daunting.

Death is never friendly. It wraps itself around you and tries to rob you of your being. It is not fair or easy. It is not welcomed nor embraced. It is a cold, calculating blow to your soul.

For those whose loved one dies it becomes the ultimate path to many feelings of identity theft.

For who you were dissolves away. The person you lost, carried away with them, someone that you will never be again.

To expect those around you to understand is a huge disappointment. You must become a good forgiver for words will hurt, expectations will pierce you, and you will find it easier to retreat than to risk more pain. No one, not even someone who has faced a similar loss, can predict or understand your loss. They may offer ideas or counsel and some of it will help. Overall, the journey is yours to walk through alone.

I have walked this journey for 5 years and while I thought it would get easier in some ways it has been harder.

The first year you kind of walk around in a daze. There are papers to fill out, 100’s of decisions to be made. In my case there was a job I had to return to. You kind of go on auto-pilot. But then after all the “firsts” have happened you step back and realize that this is the way it will always be and it pierces you over and over.

The burning ache that starts in your throat, trickles down the middle of your stomach, feeling like a knife is cutting you in two is how I have felt grief most difficulty. I can not explain the things that trigger that to happen but I can tell you that it comes without warning and can linger for a long time. The frequency of my moments of grief has certainly lessened in the last 5 years. I have even remarried. Yet I still have times when grief returns unannounced, tears flow unexpectedly, and once again I have to learn to accept my loss and keep on keeping on. It sucks.

I guess what I want to say is never question the grief you see in others. Don't assume it means they are not moving on. We really are. Just remember that grief doesn't have an expiration date. Mainly that is because death doesn't end your love. That love lives on forever and that's why grief never totally goes away. We don't expect you to fix it or understand it. But don't think we should deny it or hide it. Love us and allow us to be who we are.

Mostly, we will always miss that person who meant the world to us--honor us by letting that be Ok.

Memories--Oh how sweet

For the past few weeks I have been privileged to walk down memory lane. It came about because of my mother's 80th birthday. Years of "slides" were scanned by my niece Chelsea (thanks) of our childhood in Iowa all the way to the birth of my 3 children. I was filled with laughter at moments--thanks to the wonderful array of "glasses" I have worn, amazed at how "skinny" I used to be, and saddened by seeing those who no longer are present with us.

I was reminded of what a great honor it was to have Grandpa Bob join our family. Though he was not our "blood" grandpa he was the best gift we could have ever received as grandchildren. He took on 19 of us and made us "his". I remember going fishing with him and I will never forget the time he helped me knit my first  purple scarf. He loved grandma and made her happy. He had an infectious smile. I picture him most sitting in his recliner with Dudley (the chihuahua) in his shirt. They were inseparable.

I remember the day Grandpa died. It was 2 days after Christmas. He was working at a church breakfast when he realized he was not feeling well and tried to drive himself to the hospital. He made it only to the front of the hospital where he suffered a heart attack and died. What a loss for our family.

Grandma Cronkhite and I were close. I don't know why but we got along really well. I would spend hours with her playing "Hillbilly Canasta". It was so fun to be with her because she always had a fridge full of Pepsi and she loved to sneak "sugar" products even though she was diabetic. She always vowed me to secrecy from mom and her other kids. I kept her secret--I would have been a fool not to although it was partly my fault she never got her diabetes under control. I didn't fully understand that as a child.

I have such fond memories of Christmas Eve in Knoxville. We would eat a big dinner and grandma would have 1 gift for each of us. My most memorable gift was a huge stuffed dalmatian puppy. It sat on my bed for many years. With 19 grandchildren we were lucky to get 1. I appreciate that so much now that between Rick and I we have 15 grandchildren and I am sure there are more to come.

I have reconnected with many of my "Zimmerman" cousins. Kevin recently created "Tribe Zimmerman"--a special group on Facebook. It is fun to hear how everyone is doing and to feel somewhat a part of their lives again. Choosing to live in Oregon I don't see most of them unless I go home for a funeral. I hope to go home this summer and have a reunion.

I think of my sister Sheila who is the only cousin no longer alive. What fun she would have had with all these pictures and conversations. She was extremely social and provided my own children with fun and laughter. I am so glad she got to come to Oregon when Stephen died. It was the last time we saw each other. She was able to reconnect with my kids and they enjoyed her infectious personality.

I have many other thoughts swimming in this head of mine but I will close for now.

By the way, I chose the title for this blog "Temporary Home" because though this world has been my home almost 55 years I know that one day I will reach Heaven, my permanent home. I am so excited to be reunited with those who have gone before me. What a reunion that will be!