WHAT I LEARNED FROM DANIEL : THE BLOG ~~ Our loving, brilliant, and remarkable,twelve and a half year old son died suddenly, and without clear cause, the day after Thanksgiving, 2008. This blog is a window into how my husband, our children, and I learn what happened to him, and how we survive his passing from Earth. It is also a chronicle of the blessings that envelope us now. How we survive is documented both here in snapshot, and in our book, "What I Learned from Daniel".
So far my dear son, I don't know much about Heaven other than knowing from so many I trust that it is inexplicably wondrous beyond imagining, not just a new physical place without the constraints of our apparently frail human bodies. Sometimes as I long for you and Dad, I imagine where you might spend some of your time. The picture above is where I think you and Dad might summer, in a cottage-y, place near a beautiful sea, with wildlife, peace, and a gentle breeze. I know that men of the universe such as you and Dad would not be content to remain in one place all year. I know that between worship, and work you are doing for God, that you play hard as well in discovering all that the Heavens have in store. As a limited human myself, I can only imagine the places you might consider home as you take a breath. Know that as you look and check on me, we are thinking of you. Greetings and love from lower Earth.
Yesterday I made my usual early Saturday run to Wal-Mart for dog food, general supplies, a phone card for one of my kids, etc. On my return my husband had also gotten up early, and our newest son, James, while shovelling in cereal, said, "Dad's not here. " crunch, crunch. "He took a bicycle to the dump". "Whose bicycle ?" I asked. "I dunno" said James. "Just a small bicycle". I headed for the phone on the off chance that it was Daniel's bicycle. I called my husband twice, whose cellphone is often dead on a Saturday, as the charge only lasts five days. Without saying anything more to J. I headed to the car and drove the long distance, deep to the pine forests where the small local dump for our small rural community is located. I got there, and found Daniel's precious blue bicycle, down deep in a dumpster about 12 feet below the concrete platform, soon to be crushed by the compacter. It looked sad as it lay twisted atop an old metal roof, dented metal cabinets, and another bicycle which looked newer than Daniel's. I asked the attendant if there was any way that I could get the bicycle back, and before I knew it I had told him why and tears were streaming down my face. The gentleman went to quite a bit of trouble to get down to the dumpster below the platform and climb in it, to rescue Daniel's bicycle. By that time, my husband had remembered to plug his phone into the truck and it was charging. I told him that I was at the dump and that my car is too small to bring the bicycle home. He agreed to return and take the bike home. When I saw him I was enraged. "How could you dump Daniel's bicycle behind my back, when I'm not home, without even asking?". He looked sad. He said, "Daniel never had a bike." "Daniel had three bikes !" I said. "This was the first one, and it had training wheels and I took them off and (our eldest son) Adam and I taught him to ride". This had been no small feat because most of the area around our homes are farms and we have dirt roads or gravel roads, and no blacktop. I was sad when I realized that my husband was telling what he believed to be the truth. When the other kids were born, we both returned to work. We both juggled daycare and schedules, and kid's sick days, but when Daniel was born, David's work schedule intensified, responsibilities to other relatives took a lot of his time. It was also the first time I had been able to essentially remain at home with one of our children from birth, even though I did write articles from time to time. While I did everything with Daniel, including homeschool him and his siblings, David was at work, in a difficult accountable job without a great deal of encouragement. I realized yesterday that while I taught Daniel to balance on that bicycle, and Adam ultimately helped me remove the training wheels, and as Daniel met that milestone, David was seventy miles away, going to meetings, designing systems for buildings etc. and tangling with clients, governmental authorities, and the business owners themselves. His hard work bought me the luxury of being there for Daniel at every turn. It is no wonder that David does not recall Daniel's bikes or that he learned to ride and when. This was a privilege that David bought for me with his labors, and although David did share other important memories with Daniel, this one had been mine alone. I think it's important to remember that although we all grieve the loss of our family member that we each bring a package of different memories and that we may not have recall or understanding of everything, the way another family member might. I also notice that Daniel likes a lot of DVDs and TV programs that I simply didn't know about, but were well known to all of his siblings. Best wishes to everyone. I am not sure what to do with the small bike, especially since it's too large to bronze and place on a necklace. A dear friend has since suggested that we hang it as a remembrance high in the barn, as a symbol of a heavenly bicycle.
Daniel and Dad, I am hoping you both had the most wonderful of Easters. I would imagine that Heaven has a wonderful celebration. I apologize for the one we had, or really didn't have, this year. Last year I struggled to have the annual Easter Egg Hunt that Daniel, in particular loved so much. I very much wanted him to see that we would proceed as he would want. This year, we are consumed with taking care of Mark, our dear canine friend, who needs turning, feeding, watering, all by hand. We would euthanize him if he were in pain, but he still wishes to eat and drink and is still joyous when he sees us, and so no matter how time consuming the work of caring for him, he is deserving. I also was sick the day before and lost valuable planning time. This year I had planned to fill the eggs with quarters, or different wrapped candies. The extreme heat (82 today) would have made the chocolate a disaster, and so we will have the egg hunt on another day. I think of you both all the time. Most days I function well and you both would be pleased, but there are days like today where I just miss you, and nothing else much matters. Please tell Jesus that Mark is almost ready to be called. I love you both so very much.
In 2005, our daughter Stephanie brought home a DVD from the library. It was the first season of the "Monarch of the Glen" television series, produced by Ecosse Films and BBC and set in Scotland. Daniel and I particularly were captivated by the cinematography, by the family oriented storylines, and we were quickly hooked. One by one, we either bought or borrowed each of the DVDs as were available to that point. We later learned that the final season of Monarch was in production, and that all of the props were going to be sold nearby the site of filming near Lagganmore in Scotland. Daniel was excited as I contacted the prop master and bought a few things. Shortly after I made contact with another person who went to the sale in Scotland and who bought a great deal, and I bought a considerable number of souvenirs from him which grace our home now. We also have a large collection of drawings, plans, continuity pictures, stationery, checkbooks, mail, etc. and likely have the largest "Monarch" memorabilia collection outside the UK. This was all to be Daniel's someday, souvenirs of his favorite program, collected through dumb luck and happy accident.
The Monarch of the Glen, Series 1-7 are available as BBC DVDs now. (Season 8 will be available shortly) Daniel absolutely loved these, and in an odd way, we began to feel as if the characters were actual family of ours. We were often reminded of our UK family members while watching the program. Strangely, when Daniel passed, I wanted to let all of the characters know. I somehow expected that they would all come and comfort us, and that somehow they knew that Daniel was their biggest fan. This is how very good the series were. They convinced us not only that they were a family, but they endeared us to them sufficiently that we left thinking they were OUR family as well. We wish all the crew, cameramen, series score composer, writers, producers, actors, propmasters, and continuity people best wishes as they move on to other projects. Thank you all for so many hours of enjoyment,on behalf of Daniel, myself and the rest of our family.
Update: February 22, 2015
For those of you with a deep and abiding love of this series, it was filmed at Ardverikie Castle in Scotland.
This week I had to take our Jack Russell, Rosheen, to the vet for a 3 year rabies vaccine. James and I loaded the car and took her. I realized when I was cued by the smell of veterinary disinfectant there, that the last time I bad been there with Ro was on November 14, 2008, about two weeks before Daniel's passing. I remember the day well. Matthew and I took Ro to the vet, and it was the very first time that Daniel stayed alone in the house at 12 1/2. Daniel wanted to get some schoolwork done and work on his computer. We knew he was ready for this. He had the cell phone and both my husbands and my numbers programmed in. He also had the landline, etc. I realized while at the vet that I WOULD NEVER HAVE LEFT DANIEL ALONE IN THE HOUSE IF I HAD EVEN REMOTELY SUSPECTED THAT ANYTHING COULD BE WRONG WITH HIM. How could he have passed just two weeks later, with no clear cause ? Interestingly, time without us there seemed longer than he he thought, and although we were right on schedule because we were bringing him lunch, he called my husband with concerns that perhaps we had broken down in the older car we keep just to transport dogs and other animals to the vet when needed. I miss him so very much.
Some days it still surprizes me that the sun still shines. It still snows and people still go to work. I try really hard to keep life flowing and moving in a positive direction, since I am very cognizant that my children and my husband really do look to me to set the tone with regard to our grieving. Although each person grieves differently and on a different timetable. I know that when I grieve openly, they do too and they do not function as well. This week has been one of the hardest. I have really enjoyed having James with us, but in a sense, it opens the wound. I am very much reminded of how much we lost with Daniel's untimely passing. It makes me sad that James and Daniel have not had an opportunity to know each other here on Earth. Secondly, I had a couple of routine doctor's appointments this week and seeing them again and having them ask how I am doing induced me to answer and actually tell the truth. Lastly, I took James to a new pediatrician (better parking and hopefully fewer docs in the practice) When he told me a baseline EKG for an adolescent boy on medications was unnecessary, I wanted to punch him. Instead, I said, "Oh really ? Are you aware that both Spain and Italy do routine EKGs on all adolescents while assessing for long qt syndrome ?" I continued, "I watched my 12 year old son die in front of me, as I did CPR. I am told that it is long qt syndrome which caused this". Suffice it to say that James will be getting a baseline EKG. The rains are heavy and there is intermittent flooding on the rural roads. The dark, cold and rainy outdoors pretty much reflect my mood.
The Winter has been a hard one. From the moment we returned with James we have been deluged by cold and by one snowstorm after another. It has been helpful to have another set of hands to help with the animals as there is so much more work in cold weather than in the moderate variety. Our black lab Mark continues to hang in. We still have him in the barn in a pillow and chux lined plastic dog house, where we can remove the lid to turn him, cover him with blankets and feed and water him. Caring for him is labor intensive because he has meds, and must be hand fed and watered. Other than that, he hangs in. His front legs and head are moving well but those back legs are still not able to balance or bear weight. He is occasionally incontinent, but we have his food and water on a schedule, and so we can change him and keep him clean also on a schedule. He looks terrific, and we have the greatest LOOKING dying dog anywhere. The vet still says that as long as he's eating, drinking, and enjoying his life without pain that there is no reason to euthanize him. How strange that some of our loved ones and our pets evaporate from our midst so quickly, and others hang on beyond what seems rational or sometimes even possible. I hope snowless flowing waterfalls return soon. I am tired of the cold, the ice, and the snow.
My pumpkin, So much has happened since our last post to you and to this blog. As you know, we picked up James, and brought him home. It's very strange because although he is older than you were, in some ways we are reminded of you and of things you liked to do. He likes Pokemon, Bionicles, television, Family Guy, and sweets etc. Of course, in other ways, he is vastly different than you. Of course, you had our love absolutely and completely all of your life, and he never has. Despite this, he is remarkably resilient in many ways. He also has your penchant for telling the God's honest truth, although I think you did it more tactfully, and this makes me think that when you had to leave, that you somehow selected him to come to us. Like any adoption, there are challenges, but as God holds tight to you and takes care of anything you might need, we will try to do the same for James. Your room downstairs is beautiful, and we keep your things as remembrances. We do occasionally borrow some of your DVDs, but there are name stickers on them, so they are returned......Oh, and you are right, some of Southpark is indeed brilliant satire. I never really paid attention to it until you passed, and I am sorry for that. Mark (for other readers, our elderly black lab) is still eating and drinking, but is preparing to join you both soon. For all the illnesses that poor dog has weathered, he certainly is the "Energizer Doggie". I hope you and Papa L. are enjoying Heaven, yet can see all that we are doing here, in remembrance of you both. I love you both wider than the oceans and deeper than the seas.
It has now been one year, one month, seventeen days, fourteen hours or so since you passed to Heaven. Sometimes it feels very long ago, and other times, it feels a brief time ago. At all times, it feels as if you are not far away, and that you are amused sometimes at things that happen here. It feels as if you, and God watch carefully.
As you well know, we stopped fostering to adopt when you were small because the last child we brought to our home was very aggressive and tried to injure you. It was, of course, our first obligation to keep you safe, and so the social workers watching the placement, placed the other boy in a home which was more appropriate for him. Daniel, you always believed that we should try again, and try to provide a loving, ultimately permanent home to a boy who had not been as fortunate as you. I know I resisted. I could not risk anything happening to you. How ironic, that God quietly called you, not by the hand of anyone, but simply called by His own.
As you know, after your passing, it did not take long to update our homestudy. We knew that this had been important to you, and darling you know that anything you were interested in, is a passion for me now. Of course, you know that no one can ever replace anyone, in our hearts, minds or in our souls, but I hear your voice in my heart sometimes telling me that when we are ready that someone needs a place in our home, and I do so wish to please God and please you, in thanks for what a wonderful son you have been and in consideration for twelve and a half wonderful years with you. I know it will be hard. A new child will not have known the love you had or have had the nurturance you did. I know he may be bitter and cynical, and rightfully so. I also know that there is always a possibility the placement will not work, but I will try, and try my best, as will your Dad and your siblings.
As you know, we asked for and were approved for a child 2-13, hoping that a younger one would come our way. Of course, the predominance of children available were closer to the age you were when you departed Earth. We were matched last year with a boy of 13, who is clearly not like you, but would unquestionably have been a friend of yours had you met him under different circumstances. The reality is, that the best course of events, after your three older siblings went to college, is that this boy could have been adopted, and at nine months older than you, the two of you could have been raised together. This would have benefitted both him and you, but that was not to be.
In this timeline, you will remain in Heaven, and I will continue to love, speak of you, and talk to you, and this new boy will join us, and do the things on Earth, many of which we would have done with you, had you still been here. Your loss will be felt by him also, I am sure. Feel free to join us anytime you think you would like to watch or enjoy whatever we are doing. I can feel you with me, and although I miss your beautiful flesh suit, I know your spirit is only rarely far away from me. I promise you, I will do my very best to help this boy, whom I will call James for purposes of this blog, in order to protect his privacy. Dad and I will help him to become the best James that he can be. I know he is not you, and I will work hard not to try to expect him to be. Please send love to Papa L. and Jesus. I love you all so.
Don't grieve for me, for now I'm free,
I'm following the path God has laid you see.
I took his hand when I heard his call.
I turned my back and left it all.
I could not stay another day
To laugh, to love, to work or play.
Tasks left undone must stay that way
I found the peace at the close of day.
If my parting has left a void
Then fill it with remembered joys-
A friendship shared, a laugh, a kiss
Oh yes, these things I too will miss.
Be not burdened with times of sorrow
I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow.
My life's been full I savored much,
Good friends, good times, a loved one's touch.
Perhaps my time seemed all too brief
Don't lengthen it now with undue grief
Lift up your hearts, and peace to thee-
God wanted me now, he set me free.
