Monday, September 12, 2011

I know there's Jesus and all but...

at zack's service I saw one of the most powerful displays of a father's love for his son.

his family chose to do a memorial skydive for zack at sunset, so his two brothers, sister-in-law, friends, and dad decided to jump.

zack's dad carried his ashes and spread them during his freefall.

we were all on the ground while this happened but could tell when he did so. we could see it. then, an hour or two later, they played back the video they took of it over the screen.

the scene of his dad releasing his son's ashes into the sky unnerved me. it was too much to take in. that his father would choose to do so in a way so honoring to his son who had skydived over a hundred times spoke so much deeper than words of how much he loved him. how willing he was to simply say with his actions, "son, I love you so much."

a father should not have to do this. he shouldn't have to carry his own son's ashes. but he did, and it was so powerful. thank you, fogle family, for how you decided to honor zack's life.

Friday, September 9, 2011

life & death

on july 30th my friend zack passed away tragically in an accident that never should have happened.
on august 30th my sweet baby nephew jacob was born in an event we had been anticipating for months.

a month apart. tragedy and celebration. deep pain and inexpressible joy. life and death.

how am i here now, in the middle of both? I don't understand it, how both things could have happened a mere 30 days from each other. what does it mean that both occurred so close to each other, during my lifetime?

I can tell stories of zack, of how we met, what our friendship was like, and a bit of what it felt like to have someone in my life who cared for me more than I often care for myself. I can tell you the story of what it was like to be with my only sister as jacob was born.

but the events of both are really indescribable. the pain of not being able to have at least one last conversation with zack and the longing to simply hold and admire little baby j are both here. strong. it's meant that at a barbecue with friends I'll need to leave, go on a walk, and grieve. it's meant that even just before my first day back at classes this past week I've felt overwhelmed and not ready. it's meant that I'm having an even harder time deciding on doing the program in 3 or 4 years. it's meant that I've needed help to make decisions to care for myself, to get an extra day off work and to schedule another therapy session because I need someone to sit with me in all of this. it means that now, on this beautifully sunny day, i'm still lounging on my couch at 1 in the afternoon writing this blog, and i'm telling myself that it's okay.

zack's service is tomorrow night, and all i want to do is snuggle my nephew.