Chapter 5

Hello dear family and friends,

At the service, many of you kindly thanked us for the continual updates over the course of Mom's battle with brain cancer. These expressions of gratitude warmed our hearts as this once again reminded us of how much you cared about Mom. And again, so many of you displayed your continued love and concern for Dad and all of us as you kindly requested that we give an update on how we are doing as some time had passed. It has been almost 8 weeks, so, as requested, we are sending you another "chirp from the nest," this time without any "tweets from Robin" but rather a candid update on how we are all doing.

How are we doing? I am not sure how to answer that simply. (If Mom were here she'd smirk at that comment because she was always quick to remind me of how talkative I can be. But she wouldn't say this directly to me. She'd often look at Dad and say in that endearingly, sarcastic tone of hers, "Jeff, has Jenna stopped talking since she got here?!" And then she'd look at me and giggle at herself. She was her own best audience and biggest fan). Since her joking about my talkative nature has yet to keep me quiet, I will give you the extended version, as always, of how things are.

Dad is back to work. He has also been staying busy keeping after the yard work, tidying up the house, getting together with friends, making meals for himself, taking care of the dogs, and getting back into attending midweek church services and events. Us girls are filling up our schedules with the many things that took a backseat while we cared for mom. All 25 of us are enjoying time together as a family on the weekends, and ever so slowly us girls and Dad are going through mom's things. We like to think that spending time with us girls is the highlight of Dad's week, but he keeps us guessing ;) We are all working at trying to figure out how to do life without Mom being a part of it. We are coping. Any one of us could cry at the drop of a hat. The silliest things we didn't realize would remind us of mom do just that. This often catches us by surprise and opens the flood gates. Like when I got emotional at Kohls as I passed the Shark Vacuums that were for sale. She loved Shark Vacuums; she should have been their spokesperson. I think she could have sold a Shark Vacuum to an amish man. So there's those times when we are seemingly pulled together, and then we are hit by the tsunami of grief we are living in. These reminders of her are often more bitter than sweet right now because this intense feeling of missing her is still such new territory. So much so, that I forget at times that she is gone. More than once I have reached for the phone to call her because in that fleeting moment I forgot that I can't. We've all been experiencing that sour jolt. I even saw a woman from a distance that looked like her from behind, and for a split second, I thought it was. Then I remembered. I personally have been a bit surprised by these forms of grief that we are experiencing...again. I say again because the brain cancer robbed a lot of who mom was and what she was capable of, so we have been grieving these losses the entire time she was in the battle. We've been missing the wife and mother that she was for some time now. Over the years that mom was sick when we would run into someone who hadn't seen her in some time due to her illness, they would lovingly express how they missed her. We would reply by stating, "I do too." "Mom with brain cancer," became her new identity over those 26 months and the old her became a blur. But from the moment she passed away it is as if a veil was lifted, and the Mom and wife we knew so well prior to the diagnosis, the mom and wife we had grieved once already, is the mom and wife that is vividly stuck in our minds and we miss her more than ever before. Grieving her now is stronger and more raw because of the reality that she's not here. She's not in her chair when we walk in the door. We can't look into her eyes. We can't hear her laugh. We can't feel her hug. There's so much more to miss now, and that's been harder than I thought it was going to be. So it is difficult, but we are ok. Simply put, we are sad, hurting and somewhat surprised by grief, but we are doing fine. Webster defines fine as: very well or all right. I define it as F. I. N. E.

F-feeling

I-incompetent

N-not normal &

E-exhausted

Melanie shared this video and it might better sum up how we are doing; we are the dear child on the left.

I do believe we are exactly where we should be, though. We are functioning when necessary, smiling, laughing, experiencing joy, but we are also crying a lot. And even though the tears that we have shed could probably fill that pool we always wanted Mom and Dad to put in, they are appropriate tears. Our mother was someone to be missed. To cry over the loss of her is only right. As we shared at the service, she was a great woman and us girls were blessed to have had the privilege of calling her mom and for Dad to have had her as his wife. The holidays have been tough because she, along with Dad, made them so special. Thanksgiving has come and gone. It was a nice day spent together. My Dad's entire family and my grandmother, my mom's mom, was able to be with us. This year was no different than the last two in that we took care of the meal just as we had when Mom was sick. BUT even when she was battling brain cancer, she never let us take-over the pies. They were hers and no one was getting in the way of that. She was a stupendous pie-baker, but also a solo pie-baker. She enjoyed it so much that all us girls were to "stay out of the kitchen," as she happily slaved away over her 15 homemade pies every Thanksgiving. But we couldn't have Thanksgiving without homemade pies. So the amateur pie bakers that we are did the job. Even our uncle joined in the pie baking fun. For some of us, this was our first time ever attempting pies; we were best known as the pie eaters, not the pie bakers. We think it would have made mom proud to see our pies lined up on the dessert buffet this Thanksgiving. She definitely would have cracked jokes about the 10 knife stabbings in the middle of the pumpkin pies, the over done crust of the cherry pie, the deflated apple pie, the unrecognizable (but still yummy) shoofly pie, and the pecan pie that looked like a horse stepped in it. But she would have still been proud. We are happy to follow in such wonderful footsteps.

I will not go without saying that even in our grief and hurt there has been comfort and peace from God. That is why we can confidently say that we are okay. He is the one carrying us through the F.I.N.E. moments and blessing us beyond what we deserve. What brings us the biggest comfort is knowing that she is in heaven, and she is better than she's ever been. What a wonderful thought! God has been giving us peace only He can provide and exactly when we need it most. One day in particular God reminded me of what I already knew but needed to hear yet again. It was just a couple weeks ago and I was feeling more off than usual, kind of just numb. I made a last minute decision to visit mom's grave sight before heading home after I had been out running errands with my youngest. I hadn't been there since the burial. I had envisioned going by myself the first time, but while contemplating whether or not to stop I figured that having 1/4 of my children with me might be as close to "by myself" as it gets. God knew what I needed and gave me comfort from this tiny voice who was along with me. (Literally, a tiny voice. My youngest is an articulate two year old with the voice of Minnie Mouse.) As I pulled in she asked, "What are we doing?" I didn't answer. As I parked she said, "I know where we are." I didn't respond. I remained quiet and so did she as I unbuckled her from her carseat and walked towards the grave sight. I felt her tiny hand on my shoulder as I was knelt down in the grass, silently crying and trying to shield my face from hers. She hugged me and stooped down, tilting her head so she could look in my eyes and gently whispered, "We're with Mammy in the box. Mammy's in the box with her old body." Then her eyes grew full of excitement, and she smiled so big that her tiny dimples surfaced on either cheek and she exclaimed. "But now she has a new body!!" Amen to that and Praise the Lord. God is so good! A blessing beyond what we deserve for sure.

God is sending us comfort. All of us. Not just from tiny two year olds who are way more aware than we even realize. But also from all of you. The meals, hugs, support, listening ears, and cards from so many of you have been a blessing. Thank you for loving on our family. We are grateful for you; thank you for loving us so deeply and granting us grace as we grieve.

Blessings,

~Jenna

The pies. With tear-filled eyes I post this picture. This buffet looks all too familiar but what's not pictured is the way too unfamiliar path that was taken to make this happen. So thankful for the traditions mom created which continue to remain.

We have attached a video of mom's Celebration of Life Service (which includes chapters 1-4). Thank you to everyone who was able to come as we honored mom and celebrated her life. And thank you to everyone who, even if you weren't able to make it, reached out and gave your condolences. They have been heartfelt. If your time is limited but you would like to watch some of the service, the tributes and the remainder of the service begin 19 minute and 45 seconds into the recording. Thanks again from all of us.