Dear Sarah,

Dear Sarah,

     It's been ten years. Ten full years since you left us and I feel it today as though it were yesterday.  The ache of you not being here, the small pang when I hold the grandchildren you will never hold.  Over the last year all three of your children had babies, and all I could think when I heard this news was how much you would have loved them.

     Though you never really were a "baby" person, you sure were a people person, and you absolutely loved the people children were.  

   I remember watching you play with Mikaiah at age two, and somehow you seemed to see her differently.  You treated her differently, like a person with opinions and thoughts that mattered. And they did.

      Since you've been gone I've had my own share of joys and griefs as well.  Two more children were added to our family, and one more baby was lost.  Too many others also taken before I thought they ought than I can list, but so much joy has come to us as well.  Since you are not here to meet and to know my sweet little gang, I'll give you a little update.

     My youngest, Eowyn Florence Hope was born 6 1/2 years ago and is going into the 1st grade.  She has the most contagious smile I have ever seen, and I see it a lot.  Eo (as we call her) seems to be my only true extrovert in our family.  In her mind there are no strangers, only friends she hasn't met yet.  As you can imagine this can be both a positive and a negative, but right now it's mostly a positive.  She's like a lantern lit in the dark, a shinning happy light that draws others to her and does not disappoint.  She has drawn our family together in a way I could have never imagined.   When I was pregnant with Stirling and we were trying to decided whether or not to be done having children, I felt this ache I can't explain.  I know now it was the Lord. It was like I was missing a child who didn't even exist.  I thought perhaps people always feel like that, that no matter how many children you have you always wonder about what could have been, what children you could have had.  For me this wasn't the case.  From the moment I knew she was coming I felt the completeness she made to our family.  The Lord definitely knew I needed this one in my life.

     My third born is Stirling Seth Patrick and he is 8 years old and is an expert builder with an amazing imagination.  He is as sweet as they come with a kick at the end!  This boy will curl up in my lap in the sweetest way, telling me how much he loves his Mama, and then one minute later he will jump up onto the coffee table, leap to the couch all the while accidentally landing on one of his sisters and then yell at them for getting in his way.  Then he will calm down, ask for a hug and rejoin me on the couch. 

     Sequoia Madeline Sarah, my second oldest, you did get to meet, though briefly.  Born just a month and a day before you passed away, my pregnancy with her and the miscarriages before her were some of the hardest things I've gone through, and yet even while fighting cancer, a cancer that would steal you from us all, you supported me and prayed for me and listened to me endlessly.  You were always about loving and serving others, even until the end. Thank you dear friend.

   I will always be grateful you got to meet Sequoia and hold her when you did.  The last thing you ever said to me was "Thank you for naming her after me." Whether or not you really cared that she was named after you I will never know, but you knew it was important to me and you felt honored by that I think, at least that was our intent.  Sequoia is very proud to carry on your name, and your memory.  This girl is something special.  She holds big feelings and even bigger reactions that sometimes put me at a loss, but she also has incredible wisdom, insight and compassion to bestow on those around her.  She shows a great amount of patience and kindness when working with young children. She is a thinker and a planner. She likes things to have a place and to be in it, a girl after her mom's heart.  

    And then we have Mikaiah Eleanor, whom you did meet.  You loved her from the beginning and you would love her now.  She's funny and quirky and completely her own.  She loves Jesus and others and has interminable patience with her siblings.  Mikaiah is amazingly creative. She loves to sew and draw and create all kinds of things.  Yesterday she used a 3D pen to create a saddle for Eowyn's Barbie horse as Eo had just returned from horse camp and is now obsessed with horses...until she isn't anymore, perhaps tomorrow.   Mikaiah discovered drama this year as she had a few small roles in her school play and she is hooked.  She cannot wait to be in the next play. She also takes much pride in playing the french horn and is learning the guitar, we will have to wait and see where all that leads to.  Not being musical in any way, I love this aspect that Seth has brought into our family. He's a very talented musician and I'm glad the children have at least one parent with skill in that department!

     Seth and I are still a great team, and I am absolutely thrilled to have married this amazing man. As we come up on 14 years this week I'm still so grateful to you and Kevin for hosting our wedding at your home.  It was truly magical to be married out there in nature, among all our friends and family.  You gave me great advice when you encouraged me to go ahead and date Seth.  You saw so much in him that I had been blinded to by my own youth and false impressions.  You helped me to see the truly special man that he was (and is.)  You also helped me see how our extreme opposites can be a blessing, and the more we learn of each other and how each of us process things and operate, the more this rings true.

      I think of you often dear friend, though very randomly at times.  I will be sitting in the backyard by our small pond and a memory of you and I on the back deck of your house will be triggered.  I cannot drink good earth tea or eat popcorn with brewers yeast without you by my side.  I haven't played pinochle even once since you passed away.  So many memories of staying up late with you and Kevin, playing cards while they drink beer and we drink tea and most often you and I lose, but sometimes we'd win.  Sometimes I think I'd like to find another couple to play pinochle with and other times the thought of "replacing" you feels like more than I can bear.

        Sarah, I wish you were here.  I wish you could see this lovely, quirky run down cabin of a home we bought and watch the progress we make as we slowly bring it to a new found glory, unlike one it's ever known.  Along the highway backed up to a hillside of 3+ acres of trees and poison oak and blackberries, with chickens and children all around, you'd love it here.

         I don't know what you've been doing all this time, but I know you're with Jesus and that's enough for me.  I know that if I only had even one glimpse of that life I would never again feel sorry for what you're missing out on here. Though if you were here beside me there is so much I would like to ask you, not so much about heaven or the afterlife but more just the kinds of questions I used to ask you.  Advice on parenting, and marriage and life in general. Thoughts on working or not working as my children go back to school and pondering if there is any good in social media at all or should we all just pull the plug. I know your answer already though, as you did that years before you left us.  Real relationships in real life were always your thing.

       Before I let you go, I just wanted to say thank you.  Thank you for all the very many ways you've changed my life and continue to do so.  Thoughts of how you brought people in and made them feel welcomed and known encourage me endlessly to push past my awkwardness and shyness when meeting new people and to do my best to draw them in.  Thinking of you and the types of well thought out questions you'd ask helps me to bridge all kinds of gaps when meeting people from different backgrounds.  You always knew how to find common ground and make people feel heard and to feel as though they belonged.  And finally, thinking of you reminds me to stop talking about myself quite so much and just listen, truly listen to what others are saying.

   You would ask me from time to time who the people are in my life and bring me life.  This is a question that I continue to ask of others, and to which my answer always included you and in many ways still does. Thank you for all the life and love you brought to myself and to many, many others, always pointing us back to Christ.

Miss you Sweet friend, Love,

Michelle

   

Being present and finding Joy in the midst of chaos

    "Life moves too fast, enjoy it."  "Savor the time when your children are little, you'll miss it soon enough."  "Dishes and cobwebs will keep, but your little ones will not." "Embrace a messy house, life is too short not to."  These and other similar sentiments are ones that I have both heard often and said myself, yet all good intentions aside, it's a lot easier said than done.

      A couple of  weeks ago on a lazy Sunday afternoon I found myself in a state of complete contement.  My children and one of their close friends were joyfully playing together, my husband was happily occupied in some pursuit of knowledge or other, and a cozy fire burned in the pellet stove as the rain pelted the roof outside, which only added to the overall coziness of the afternoon.  I climbed into our partially finished loft and newly christened play area to sort a few toys and survey the scene around me.  It struck me as such a happy peaceful moment that I decided to commemorate it with a photograph.  Here is where the trouble started. 

       As soon as I examined that picture I stopped noticing how happy and peaceful our home was and started up a to do list:  A) Pick up empty wood pellet bag and throw it away. B) Clean out the chicks pen.  C)  Ask Seth when he's thinking we'll get to work fixing our bedroom door, covering the wall behind the couch, fixing the drywall, patching up the ceiling, finishing the bathroom and on and on and on.    It was as if literal clouds rolled in and rain soaked my mood.   All of the sudden my beautiful day was dashed on the rocks and every content being in my body was overshadowed by feelings of being overwhelmed and inadequate.  Our home will never be done, I thought, and if it ever IS done, it will never feel organized and clean. 

      With all these thoughts crowding in I felt panic and despair creeping up, and then I stopped myself.  I took a deep breath, and then another, and then I remembered why I took the picture in the first place.   As I did so, I slowly backed myself down from a state of panic.    The mess can wait and the house will get done, one thing at a time.  However even if it doesn't, this time, right now, is perfect.  One day my house will be clean and stay clean and my kids will have moved out.  I will have more than even space and things can get organized, and I know with every fiber or my being that in those days I will ache to return to what I have right here and now.  There is no need for me to hijack myself and ruin the time I have now.  And then, not quite as quickly as it had come, my heart rate slowed, my anxiety went away and the joy of the day returned to me.

        The details may be different, but I know I am not alone in this.  Maybe you also can relate to this struggle.   Perhaps you are not remodeling your home, yet still we can be over run by laundry and wish lists that ultimately lead to discontentment.  Even without children the struggle to want things to be "just perfect" before you can really enjoy it all is real.  Every magazine and Home improvement show tells us our "fairy tale home is just a DIY project away..." and while improvements can be great, let's not let them dictate to us when our lives are "done" enough to be enjoyed.

         By nature I am not a procrastinator, never have been.  I have always been one to "eat my veggies first" so to speak, so that I can fully enjoy the "best parts" after.  I have always done my homework right away so I can play without it looming over my head, and as a grown woman and mother it is my instinct to clean and organize first for the greater enjoyment while relaxing later.  Here in lies the problem. It NEVER ends.  The messes never stop and nothing ever stays organized for long.  I can spend so much time working on cleaning and picking up that I never get to stop and recharge, or enjoy the day with my children and husband.

      In the summertime my solution to having messes made is often to not be home.  Go to the river or the beach or go pick berries, and spend the day at the park or with a friend.  These are all good and fine, but the laundry pile still climbs, bathrooms still need cleaned and dinner still has to be made.  And so it goes. To help myself find balance in this area several years ago, when my children were still toddlers and the mess was even worse than it is now, and help harder to find,  I set for myself a mental list each evening in order to "reset" the house so to speak. Do this, and no more.  The list is basically clear the table and counters, do dishes and clean up the toys and clutter from the floor in the main living areas.  A quick sweep and vacuum and then relax.  This is mostly done once my kids are in bed and has helped me immensely.  To this day I still do this, and in this way I can stop and relax in the evening while not having to wake up feeling 10 steps behind.

     Yet still, on days like that Sunday in the midst of the mess of the day I must take a moment and remind myself of the beauty in the madness. Filling my mind with gratitude and contentment once again.