Recycling isn't easy

"God is in the business of recycling our pain and using it for someone else's gain." Mark Batterson

This morning I went to the Memorial Day parade. I picked the Elmore parade solely because it started later, but I knew it wouldn't be any easier in Elmore than it would be in Woodville. I made sure to have my sunglasses in hand at all times because I knew I would loose the battle with the tears this morning. My Dad served in the Air Force, was very patriotic and throughout my life it was expected that we would attend the Memorial Day parade.

This year wasn't any different, really. We woke up, put on our red, white and blue, gladly accepted the flags handed out by the nice veterans and I hummed along with the Star-Spangled Banner as I reflected on life. All the years leading up to today, the many conversations with my dad explaining why it is so important to honor those serving and the veterans was obvious in my every thought. Yet today when they asked the crowd to raise their flag to recognize their loved one and announced each branch of the armed forces, I couldn't raise my flag. It was like I was paralyzed. I knew if I raised my flag people would look at me and feel sympathy. I knew my children would ask why I was raising my flag and I really didn't want to have them melt down in front of everyone. Instead I decided to put on my sunglasses and hide the tears because it is just so much easier!

I made it through the parade. We had a wonderful time with our friends all day. My cousins and a couple of my friends sat on my glider this weekend for the first time and commented on how beautiful the set up is with my chime and remembrance stones and love obvious to the naked eye. My cousin got to sit at Granny's table during her visit and as she touched the top ever so gently the memories flooded her mind. We talked about things my dad asked us to do before he passed; things we should try harder at and we are working on them. We talked about Gary, Beth, Erin, Sara and Steven, how they were all fighting the best fight imaginable, making the community so very proud to call them our own, making Gary proud of all the lessons he tought them over the years.

When I went to the parade this morning I didn't want to share my pain. Tonight, I realize that was kind of selfish. Other people have had lived through "the firsts", many people have lost thier loved ones, even years and years after loved ones have passed most people still ache with the feeling of loss. Alissa and Heidi reminded me when Gary was still fighting to come back to us, when the entire community was praying for a miracle, that I have been in thier shoes and I could help. I already knew this and had already emailed Erin and Sara that I am here for them in any capacity they need, but I was hoping it wouldn't come to this point because recycling the pain of death isn't easy.

When I went to the Strong's in the afternoon to complete our Memorial Day weekend we walked into tears. Marcia had received "the call" from a friend and Leah received "the call" shortly after. The call that nobody wants to make (I was too chicken to call and emailed nearly everyone rather than calling them), the call that leaves the worst feeling in your stomach, tears in your eyes and a pain in your heart that can not be described. God called Gary to stand guard at his sand castle. He really must have needed someone good to fill such post.

I thought about how I masked the pain this morning at the parade, the entire weekend when I looked at my chime, I didn't even cry when Marcia told me the news even though she couldn't keep them in. When I was finally alone, I read Steven's post and lost it. I had to write a similar email to my friends because I wasn't strong enough to call them. I recall my facebook page filling up quickly as the news spread throughout our small town only six months ago. I have since witnessed the same outpouring of love on Zajak's pages and a few other friends that have lost their loved ones. It is all too familiar, but as I cried, I thought about the gentle nudge from my cousins, about the quote at the top of the post and how I longed to express my feelings and thoughts when I was the daughter meeting with the funeral director, picking out the thank you cards, holding my mom and brothers hand as we compiled the photos that can't even begin to tell the story of a dad.

Eventually I came around to Aaron's unending attempts to save the world one can at a time: recycling our cans and jars, our friends are even getting used to the routine of rinsing and turning them over in our sink. Tonight I am forcing myself to get used to recycling the pain of loss just in case my dearest neighbors need to feel just a little less alone this week. Just in case they need a little more strength to get them through the next week, month, baby showers, births, wedding, birthdays, holidays and so many of the other "firsts", I am going to lend them my strength. Even though I might not be able to suppress the tears while my strength is on lease, they need it more than me right now and that is the least I can do. Hoping that everyone else lends them theirs, too. Use your strength to pray for theirs.

Please know that our prayers last week did not go unanswered. Sometimes it is difficult to understand the difference between My Will and Thy Will. Even though all of us were praying for a miracle and our will would be to have Gary throwing out the first pitch on our side of this life, God has a different plan. Maybe they needed a new pitcher in heaven, but more likely they needed a new coach, a new life coach. A life coach can be defined as somebody who helps people improve lives: somebody who provides advice and support to people who wish to improve their lives, helping them to make decisions, solve problems, and achieve goals. Gary was one of a kind in this arena! His wife, his children and all of the people that he has touched over the years are living testament to this. God's will was to bring Gary home; maybe He needed a new advisor. We will not know until we get there, but when you can’t trust His hand, you can trust His heart.

I told my mom she's going to have to take Beth out on the town, but I hope that all of the rest of her friends don't need the encouragement. She is going to need your love and support more than ever now. Erin, Steven and Sara please know that I am only a phone call or email away if you ever want to talk, scream or cry. I know you are all doing your best to survive and take care of the babies growing inside of you and Steven is doing his best to show Evey what your dad has taught you all. Hang in there! To all the people that will be missing Gary, the cement in our foundation of community, I leave you with words from a very wise lady. "We do not understand why some people live to be 100 and some lives are cut short. Life can be difficult and the pain of loss is real. I don’t pretend to have answers or easy solutions, but I can tell you that God is love, God is real and the Holy Spirit is by our side in the moments of joy and the moments of pain." Jennifer Smith Williamson