Love and Marriage

One of the unexpected blessings of my trip west was the chance to celebrate with this couple their 50th wedding anniversary and renewal of their vows today. Who are they? My great uncle and aunt, Bob and Ruth Kremer. Bob is the youngest of the Kremer clan - my grandpa Joe's youngest sibling (mom's dad).

Their daughter Karen gave a beautiful tribute to them, describing them/their marriage as an example, as teachers, and inspirational. She cited their daily walks holding hands, their time spent preparing couples in their parish for the sacrament of marriage, and the way they look at each other while listening and speaking as examples.

There is so much that I love about this picture...but, I think what I love most is that it speaks to me of a legacy of love. I hear their story of faithful love, fidelity through trial, friendship, faith, hope, and prayer - and I instantly think of stories I heard about Chuck and Tillie (Temeyer), Jerry and Rita (Kies) [grandpa's sisters] at their husband's funerals - and of my own grandparents. I think of God's promise to Moses and the Israelites: to those who love me, a thousand generations will be blessed. 

I have been so blessed and touched by many of you reaching out to me after Dan's death. [I hope one day to actually write to each of you personally; today is not that day.] Many of you have mentioned how blessed/lucky he was to have me (and I feel the same)...to have cared for him - and I honestly can only say: I learned from the best.

I have had a faithful cloud of men and women witnessing to me the sacrament of marriage my entire life. They teach me everyday...and "I'm a better learner than I know; I learned the lesson."

Just a couple of months after we started at Michigan State, a graduate student (and friend) commented about how Dan and I seemed to be one of those couples who defied the odds; who could work together; who have that mystical "it." It surprised me at the time; I couldn't see it. We had problems; we fought; we didn't always see eye-to-eye - we're human. But, we trusted each other; we had that easy confidence that comes from knowing you are well loved - and we generally really liked each other's company. While I have many friends - and several, special close, heart-friendships; Dan was my first best friend. And, I think he would say the same about me.

When we were first working at the University of Arizona, we had a short walk down an alleyway from the parking garage to my building. I made him hold my hand. When we got to my building, I made him give me a kiss. He protested at first, saying, "Jessica! What if my students see me?" I said, "Good. I hope they do. They need to see a good marriage lived out."

He, too, is a good learner. He lived the lesson well.

There is no limit to love's forbearance - to its trust, its hope, its power to endure.

Love never fails. Prophecies will cease; tongues will be silent; knowledge will pass away. Our knowledge is imperfect and our prophesying is imperfect. When the perfect comes, the imperfect will pass away. When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like child. But when I became an adult, I put childish things aside. Now we see indistinctly, as in a mirror; then, we will see face to face. My knowledge is imperfect now; then, I will know even as I am known.

There are, in the end, three things that will last: faith, hope, and love. The greatest of these is love.

[1 Corinthians 13]

Grief Stages

I have received much encouragement about my writing from "my people" over the last few weeks. So, I have wanted to get back online and let you know how I am doing. I'm currently in California, staying with family: who cares about bloodline, we are connected by heart.

I've decided that I will document my process through this - like I've already been doing - and hopefully, God willing, that will not only help me, but you. I have to let my thoughts out somewhere, and God has given me a voice - so I will use it.

I just finished reading my first book on grieving: "Grieving - our path back to peace" by James White. It's a good, short read and I would highly recommend it. I'm a first-born, so I have a need to "check myself" according to norms. I have a need to know what to expect; and I have a strong desire to make sure that I am doing things "right".

Now: I know that several of you will now comment that "there's no wrong way to grieve" and "everybody's different." True. But, grief is a process that all humans are faced with, and over time, counselors have observed that though expressed differently, there are similar parts of the journey to healing/acceptance. And, if stunted or suppressed, a process that could lead to healing can instead lead to brokenness. (which is exactly what I don't want)

Everybody starts with numbness/shock - and I didn't know this. I had asked my cousin a few days after the funeral if it was normal that I didn't feel sad all the time, that I felt normal - even full of peace at times. Her response was: "Yes, God is protecting you. God is showing you that you can and will feel this way, again."

One thing I appreciated about the book was the author's emphasis on "spiral" - not steps. The concept of steps indicates that you move, linearally, methodically, sequentially through the emotions. So, your process through grief is a checklist. But, it's not. And if that's your expectation, when you circle back to an emotion again, you'll become upset with yourself and your progress (at least I would). So, in a spiral, you will come around to certain feelings again - as time progresses, but the aim is that you are leading to acceptance and hope - not bitterness and despair.

I am already feeling the spiral. There have been moments of emptiness, of irritability, of guilt/questioning, of sadness. Sometimes the sadness just feels like a weight on my chest. Sometimes I hear a song and I think of Dan and I am both happy and sad: bittersweet.

My prevailing feeling, though, has been completeness. I feel so full, so loved, so at peace - more of the day than not. I have my waves and my moments with the spiral - and I fully understand that is normal and that it can (and probably will) increase and be harder...but, I am so thankful for God and my people. I have much more to say - but, first: lunch!

(to keep you hanging on for more, dear readers) ;)

Jessica's random heart

Well, I'm about to ruin my mascara - and probably yours, so you're welcome in advance. [Why do I even wear mascara? It's just giving me a forewarning that I'll cry later in the day.]

I started a CaringBridge site for updates about Dan's health because we've finally embraced the fact that we are going to be moving forward with a bone marrow transplant (either a research trial (3rd party) or allopathic - from a donor - his sister). There will be lots of specific prayer requests that I will throw out at you, our fantastic support system. And, I hope you know that I don't say that as lip service; truly, every time you pray for us, we can feel it.

As I worked on just writing out our journey the last two years, I am honestly overwhelmed - overcome with emotions ranging from gratitude to shock that we haven't simply survived. In the midst of some crazy chaos, we have thrived; and, I think - well, I don't think - I know, it's because we know the Calm of the storm: it's Jesus.

When I think about just the past year and all that we have endured... I have no words. Shock and awe.

It took meeting with our bone marrow doctor ten days ago for us to finally realize that we have been living in a cycle of sickness for A LONG TIME...and that the transplant, while very scary, is our best option for breaking that cycle. For a while, I think we both thought that we could do it - we have done it for years...but, at what cost?

Many of you have commented over the year about my strength - and I thank you for that. I find strength from lots of you, and from Dan, and I have a model of great strength. My grandma Ellen cared for my grandpa Joe for 3 years while he was in kidney failure, and I don't know how she did it. Now that I have lived this journey, I have such profound respect for her. These are not easy tasks, but we do them because we can't imagine any other way. We don't know how to not do it, to not give, to not love, to not wear ourselves out in the caring for the person we love most.

While we certainly don't do it perfectly, and each day is its own battle with a cross to bear... we continue to press on because that is the way forward to life. We may cry, but that is where we find release. I find such healing from my tears. I am not ashamed to cry or to feel so deeply.

But creating this site was a really big deal for me, you guys. I'm admitting that this...this...is so much bigger, so much more serious than I live my life thinking. I kind of have this thought that these sites are only for the serious, life-threatening things...and to admit that this is where we are - damn, you guys! "I can't even" put it into words.

Also, I'm really quite disappointed that I can't customize the site more. The "cover page" (in facebook language) options are so super lame. What I WANT that part of the page to say is this because it's my mantra right now:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and God of all encouragement, who encourages us in our every affliction so that we may be able to encourage those who are in any affliction with the encouragement with which we ourselves are encouraged by God.

For as Christ's sufferings overflow to us, so through Christ does our encouragement overflow. If we are afflicted, it is for your encouragement and salvation; if we are encouraged, it is for your encouragement, which enables you to endure the same sufferings that we suffer. 

Our hope for you is firm, for we know that as you share in the sufferings, you also share in the encouragement.

This is what it's all about for me. In the last year, God has become so much closer, so much more tangible to me through this affliction and suffering. To think how far off from him I was then, and how much more there is of His heart for me to know...I am only on the far edge. I am closer than I was, but still so far from really grasping how wide, and high, and deep is the love of Christ Jesus for us.

I gather strength and encouragement from those who have walked the road of suffering and affliction before me; who have endured the pain of seeing their spouse suffer...they have given me strength to do this...and that will overflow into the hearts of those who walk with us. We are the body of Christ - and we must journey together if we are to find healing and wholeness.