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!