We drove in the dark across the desert of a hot July night to Arizona, just Son3 and me. It was quiet. Too quiet. He was not exactly the chattiest driving buddy. It was so peaceful that I fought to stay awake. I caught up to Hubs and the older boys an hour and a half after I left San Diego. Still, Phoenix felt eons away.
We planned to stop at GG's (great grandma's) house for dinner. We were so late, hours late. Dinner turned into a 1am midnight snack of barbecued meat. GG had it waiting, and my kids scarfed it down. Forget that we had stopped for In-N-Out; they ate like champs. At 80 years old, that is GG for you, opening her doors unbiased by time of day. It is the same hospitality that runs deep in my husband's family across generations. My mother in law is just the same, and so is the Hubs. They are quick to serve others before themselves. Their character comes before their comfort.
It is how we are training our boys. It is who we want them to become.
We dragged ourselves through a nearby hotel lobby an hour later to a nice suite. We slept. We woke. We ate. GG and Grandma T came for a swim, and left for G.G.'s house.
I did not feel the weight of the move. I did not feel the weight of the road trip.
I felt peace. I gave what I could. A handful of family members received.
The year after my sister in love's death, the Lord gave our family new life. Our first child was born. I do not believe he granted life to replace anyone, or to give back whom he had taken. He is God and he owes us nothing. No, he granted life
in spite of her death.
Joy after death is very hard to explain, but very sweet to taste. For me to return to Arizona, to taste grief, and to hold joy in my arms all at once, is an inexplicable feeling. It reminded me how God extends mercy and grace
in spite of grief.
I gave what I could. I gave my children time to freely interact with their grandmothers. I knew our time was short. I knew their love was big. I knew traffic was mounting. I knew my kids were acting naughty. I knew this time was cherished. I knew that my Hubs was mission oriented and anxious to get on the road, and time was of the essence.
I gave what I could. I gave time.
I ran a load of laundry at G.G.'s house but did not move it to the dryer. The Arizona heat was sweltering at 113 degrees. G.G. and Son1 collected the wet clothes and pinched them between clothes pins on the clothes line. Giggles, laughter, and directions on just how to dry clothes in the desert streamed through an open sliding glass door. I wish I had taken that picture. She took the picture in her mind, and so did he. He talks about how he hung the laundry in the desert with his great grandmother, and she reminds him when she calls.
G.G. gave what she could. She gave
time outside. She gave
time inside. Hubs and Son2 took a quiet nap in the cool back bedroom that once was Carina's. It looks different now, but it looks the same. I peeked in, and quietly closed the door, remembering many nights I slept in that same room. Back in the living room I found GG and Son1 playing Go Fish. I heard more giggles, more directions, and watched as GG patiently sat with my beautiful son around a low coffee table she has had for probably fifty years. I joined them at the coffee table, where she played cards with her own children, her grandchildren, and now her great grandchildren. I thought about the last time I played at that coffee table Carina was still here. And then, my mind remembered the story that I have heard many, many times about GG teaching my husband to play Go Fish in the hospital when he was waiting for his first brother to be born.
When I tasted grief that day in Arizona, I knew mercy and compassion. Though our family has walked through the valley of the shadow of death, we have felt the comfort of God. We have not been alone, even in our grief. And still, I felt more in GG's living room.
The taste of grace is to know joy,
to choose to giggle, to celebrate life, and to be playful, every day, regardless of the circumstance. It is
choosing to count it all joy in spite of death, giggles in spite of a pressing drive across the country with three small children, and granting time,
because life is so brief. It is sometimes all we can give, time. To know grace is to extend kindness to others because of the kindness God has shown us through his Son.
It was almost time to leave. The laundry was packed. The cards were put away. Suddenly, Son1 hailed us to the sliding glass door. There on GG's lawn was a bunny rabbit. We watched her play and scamper. That bunny made a connection for us across states, across generations. For me, it was just another peace omen.
For weeks leading up to our trip across country, GG
It was time. We were starving, so we piled into three cars to Cracker Barrel for dinner. I took one last picture of my boys with their grandmother and GG.
Dinner time came and went. We sat for awhile more in the rocking chairs outside the restaurant while I fed the baby one more meal. Time to go. We realized one bag was still back at GG's house. So Hubs and our older two boys jumped in the truck, pulling the trailer, while Son3 and I drove back for the forgotten bag.
I found it quickly, and allowed GG to rearrange the inside of my van. Well, she gave me no choice. There was no stopping her. My mother in law and I just shook our heads. GG is determined.
Once again, it was time. GG grabbed me something fierce and told me she wanted to pray for me. She did. She pulled away and I could see tears in her eyes and in my mother in law's eyes. No, no, no. I made a little joke, and soon enough the glassy eyes were gone.
Life is so brief. Our family knows.
I carefully made my way to I-17. It was desert dark. It was windy. It was rainy. Everyone was speeding. On that highway I thanked God for Carina. The last time I was on this highway was ten years before, when we drove across country together. I prayed for safety for 2 hours for my friends. They were driving through the night after the loss of a family member from Kansas. They would be on the same highway in a couple of hours, in the opposite direction.
Finally, I met up with Hubs and the boys in Flagstaff near midnight. We spent the night in a hotel across from his college apartment.
The next day we toured Meteor Crater.
This is an open window that framed the desert scene perfectly.
The crater is 4,000 feet wide and over 500 feet deep.
We watched a very scientific movie about the meteorite that caused the crater. It brought Son1 nearly to tears. He wanted to know why God would allow this to happen. I had no answers. I offered that it would not happen again. He asked me how I knew that.
I realized that I have no guarantees in this life for my kids. I could not guarantee a meteor would not hit the Earth, just as I cannot guarantee that my kids will not experience hurt and grief. It was a sobering thought. Minutes passed. New thoughts. The crater was an amazing sight.
It was time to jump back in the cars. All of our possessions not in our cars were in this teeny tiny trailer.
Time to hit the road again, with no guarantees for the next day, or the day after that.
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