A Night in the Box

Today at church during the children sermon the kids were being asked if they had been on any trips. Julia raised her hand and answered Illinois. Then she added that she had also been on a road trip to Las Vegas. That drew quite a few laughs. Nothing like your daughter telling 900 people in church that you take her on road trips to Vegas!

I was headed to a concert in Denver on Tuesday. I had been psyched about this show for a long time and was in high spirits. I was cruising along singing along to loud music on the radio and headed up Lincoln when a memory washed over me out of the blue. It was of seeking out a car wash that could detail and clean the inside of our car so that it would be a safe environment for Nathan to travel in after several weeks in Denver for transplant. It was one of those very vivid memories. I could see in my mind's eye the bay I pulled the car into. I remember watching as the industrial strength vacuum was used to suck up every crushed piece of cheerio or cracker or old crusty McDonald's hamburger bun. If you would have asked me earlier in the day where the car wash was that we had the car detailed at before coming home after transplant, I couldn't have told you. About four or five blocks after being hit by the memory I cruised right past that car wash. It is funny the things you know and remember but don't even know you know or remember. And I couldn't have recalled that "knowledge" if I had tried.

The venue for the show was close to the old Children's Hospital in Denver. While seeking out parking I drove right by the apartments we stayed in during that time. After walking the few blocks to the theater in the cold drizzle I was more than ready for a few beers and some loud music.

Riding in the van the other day:

Me: You look cool in your sunglasses.
Lauren: No. I look *sassy*.
Me: Sassy, huh?
Lauren: Yes. And you are stylin'.

Last Sunday night Susan's choir at church performed a fantastic concert. It was an evening designed to worship God as the creator of all things. The song performances were only broken up by scripture readings from Genesis and during the performances images and clips of amazing natural beauty were projected onto the screens. I explained to Lauren that the music and the images were meant to celebrate the fact that God created everything, including all of the things being shown on the screen.

Lauren thought for a few minutes and then whispered in my ear, "It sure must have took him a long time to make all those things".

Amen.

From The Crossing by Cormac McCarthy.

It was the nature of his profession that his experience with death should be greater than for most and he said that while it was true that time heals bereavement it does so only at the cost of the slow extinction of those loved ones from the heart's memory which is the sole place of their abode then or now. Faces fade, voices dim. Seize them back, whispered the sepulturero. Speak with them. Call their names. Do this and do not let sorrow die for it is the sweetening of every gift.

It has been two years today. It is a day that we choose not to "recognize", but it is impossible to ignore. I've gotten messages from friends indicating that they are doing something special today to mark the day, and that makes me feel good. It just isn't an anniversary that I want to give that kind of special attention.

I feel a bit of relief. This date marks the beginning of the end of the summer grieving season. There will still be grief tomorrow and every day after, but the buildup and the emotional impact of summer is especially tough, and it will soon be over.

Me: Are you my girl?
Lauren: Yes.
Me: Will you be my girl forever?
Lauren: Well...until I go to college.