Is It Called BACK TO SCHOOL If Its Your First Time?

I cannot believe my little girl is starting Kindergarten on Monday. Because of our travels, Charlotte got to have her own private Orientation with the teacher. We came to her new classroom with all of the required supplies: tissues, wipes, hand sanitizer, individually labelled crayons, etc.



We saw her coat hook, cubby and chair. We found out that she will be the Captain of her table for the first week. Can you believe it? She will LOVE this and will certainly be disappointed to realize it is only a one week appointment.

Learning "Captain" duties. "This is how you tell me your table is ready to listen. Your hands are folded, your mouths are closed and your eyes are on me," Mrs. Kremers said. This reminded me of my own Kindergarten experience at MacArthur Elementary School with Mrs. Bishop. I felt like a 5-year-old as I admitted to Mrs. Kremers that my Kindergarten Report Card said, "Margie thinks Kindergarten is a time to talk with her friends." (Can't say I disagree with that line of thinking even now. Socializing has always been important to me! :) )

Each child was supposed to bring a small box for their crayons and markers. We decided to decorate a shoe box. As we walked through Hobby Lobby looking at supplies, Charlotte would tell me which things were her "style" and which were not.

As you can see, the resulting masterpiece is certainly full of .... STYLE. Mrs Kremers said she had never seen a supply box quite like it before.

We both felt loved and welcomed. The Principal and the Assistant Principal met Charlotte and told her they had been praying for her while her Daddy was sick and since he died. I looked over her class list and noticed there was one other child with only one parent. I am heartbroken to go through this milestone of childhood without John. As Mrs. Kremers said, "I think God will let your Daddy look down from heaven and see your first days of school." I wonder if Charlotte feels "different" from other kids or if that will slowly emerge as everyone shares about their families.

Make Way for Ducklings

Tomorrow I am travelling with the kids to Boston. We were invited to visit our dear friends Mario, Nancy and their five children. We look forward to a few days of shared life, laughter and grief. We also hope to visit the Swan Boat and Jack, Kack, Lack, Mack, Nack, Oack, Pack and Quack. These are the ducklings that make a fabulous appearance in one of our favorite books, Make Way for Ducklings by Robert McCloskey. The Swan Boat also appears in The Trumpet of the Swan by E.B. White. I had so much fun reading this book to Charlotte. As a "retired" brass player, I thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity to vocalize trumpeting for Louis the swan. I tried on a self-important, dramatic voice for the Old Cob and loved the book more than Charlotte did.

While I am looking forward to a trip to New England, I am a little nervous about flying by myself with the kids. If John were alive and I were choosing to take the kids on a trip by myself, I don't think I would be as worked up about it. But the fact that I really am alone with the kids makes me feel... lonely.

Airports are absolutely crammed with people yet empty of relationship. Everyone is dashing here and there, concerned about their own plans. In the airport I am reminded of what a lonely place the world can be. As I was gritting my teeth to face one more widow challenge, I felt the Lord calling me to pray. I have so many memories of John gathering us around to pray. His consistent Christ-centered worldview focused us on the most important things. Facing an anxiety-provoking day he would pray something like, "Lord we are rooted in You and your goodness. There is nowhere we can go on this earth that You are not there. Direct every moment and connection of our travel tomorrow. Provide for our needs and bring those across our path that will be able to help us or who are in need of the your love."

I held onto both kids tonight and prayed.

My irrevocable place...rooting...grounding in the Love that came before and will go on beyond me put my fears to rest.

I have no assurance of a perfect day to be sure, but abiding in Jesus' love I know that nothing will come across my path that did not first go through Him.

Jesus said, "I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Matthew 28:20.

Michigan Vacation

My week-long vacation started off at a spa in the Wisconsin Dells. My only regret about this vacation was that the spa was BEFORE the cottage trip with the kids. Why didn't we think of going to the spa AFTER spending five days in a two-room cottage with five kids? I slept with a child under each arm on a futon for five nights. NOW is when I need the spa!!

In any event, I was with three girlfriends from college at the spa and then we drove to Manitowac, Wisconsin to load up the van on a car ferry and cross Lake Michigan. The ferry landed in Ludington, we were met by another girlfriend, a B&B and then the cottage. As most girlfriend gatherings go, we laughed, we cried, we prayed, we ate Peanut M&Ms.

Ah, but here I must insert my story about George. As we drifted across Lake Michigan, we entered into one of our favorite pastimes, singing. I'm the only non-music major in the crowd, but I'll still sing with the birds when invited. My friend Beth taught us this lovely song that can be sung in a round and we belted it out. About the time we were singing the last bit of the song, a man with a long, grey ponytail approached our group and stood nearby leaning against the wall. (Enter George) We didn't pay any attention to George and kept right on talking and shrieking and laughing.

George watched and listened for about 30 minutes when he suddenly burst into our group smiling and laughing saying, "Your voices are a symphony. I've been standing here listening and when you talk and when you laugh its music. I came to listen to your singing, but when I got here you stopped. Then I stayed because I realized your voices are music. Each of you has your own vocal tone and the words, the laughter, the talking over one another, makes beautiful music." Of course we loved this adoration and only egged George on. He came back a few minutes later saying, "I have walked around this entire ship and you all are the best people here!"

It was music to our ears to hear that someone appreciated the artful zest for life our little group prides itself on. (George's opinion was not necessarily held by all the other passengers. After about three hours of hilarity we settled down to read and rest. One man walked by and said, "So you ladies are taking a break now so you can party all night??") Hilarious.

The girlfriends' gathering ended on Sunday and my parents drove my children up to the cottage to meet me. Mary Poppins' husband brought her three children and the seven of us settled in for a week of exploring Ludington, Michigan.

Playing at the beach on Lake Michigan

Freezing on the beach. Water temp was 56.

Have you ever taken your kids on an outing that used up every drop of energy you had? All of us had had all the fun we could handle for one day. We were at the beach for hours. It was great, but when it came time to pack up we were quite a sight. We coached the kids through picking up all the water toys, we shook out sandy blankets. Suddenly everyone needed to go potty. Everyone was parched and starving. Mary Poppins and I loaded ourselves down with beach paraphernalia and started plodding toward the van. We were singular in our focus of getting to the van, leaving in our wake five crying children. Each child was carrying something and every single one of them was weeping and wailing. Once at the van, we would unload our parcels and return to rescue the kids. (Something like the airline phrase, "Please secure your own oxygen mask before assisting your children.")

As we trooped toward the parking lot, our shrieking little ducklings behind, I looked up and saw a familiar grey ponytail blowing in the wind. "George? Oh my word, its GEORGE!" Mary Poppins and I looked at each other in shock, dumbfounded by the sight of the grey ponytail blowing in the wind. The symphony of our lives a few days before, reduced to a shockingly dissonant cacophony.

Did we call to him or in any way draw additional attention to ourselves? OF COURSE NOT. I wanted the bedrock reality of both symphony and cacophony in my life to be my own little secret when it came to George. Let him go on thinking of us as magical musical maidens. Why does he need to know that the reality of our lives involves shrieking, wailing, whining and exasperation? I barely want to know these things, surely George doesn't need to be brought in on this reality!

And finally,

Another favorite phrase from our trip was, "OK kids, come on in and bring your guns."

We bought 12-shooter rubber band guns for the kids at a craft show. They had a blast with the shooting range we made.

Aiming at water bottles.

Getting snapped by a rubber band while learning how to string the pistol.

Every good and perfect gift comes from above. Thanks be to God.

Its great to get away and its great to come home.

We returned from a vacation today and I can't find my camera. I know I have some great pictures to share with you, but they'll have to wait until I dig out from under the laundry. I decided not to post ahead of time about our trip. I have that strange, "I'm a widow and I feel vulnerable" thing going on. I guess I did not want to advertise that we would be gone. Anyway, that's why I didn't post for so long.

We were given a week at a cottage in Michigan on Lake Hamlin. We had a great time swimming, picking blueberries and watching out for the wolverines.

We have come home with great stories to tell, fun memories, PILES of dirty laundry and itchy bug bites.

Oh, remind me to tell you about George. Hilarious.

Summer Grief Projects

My summer calendar looks different this year. Under my list of Things To Do is a sub-category called Grief Projects. Included on the list are: Make a Memory Box for each of us, Read Tear Soup and other mourning books, begin an Art Journal for each of us, make a scrapbook of the entire course of John's illness, watch home videos, go to the cemetery, tell stories, etc. (When I read over this list I begin to understand why things like go to the grocery and do laundry never seem to get done!)

Today we started the Art Journal. This is great for my kids because it does not require reading and writing. It is also great for me, because it helps me get past the words and see the colors and shades of this season. I bought each of us a spiral-bound watercolor book. I am using the book Help Me Say Goodbye: Activities for Helping Kids Cope When a Special Person Dies by Janis Silverman. I will choose ten of the suggested drawings from this book for us to do together.

The kids LOVED painting.

It was a gentle time between us that created a space for sharing stories and memories.

Today's journal suggestion was something like, "Draw a picture for Daddy that shows something you remember about him that you will miss."

Charlotte drew a house explaining that she "wished he was at our house."

Josiah telling us about the rocket ships he drew.

(I don't think he remembers that one of John's best friends always called him Johnny Rocket!)

Josiah said, "When Daddy not dead we will show him what we made." Ouch.

Josiah has abandoned ship and Charlotte keeps adding more layers of color.

I bought some sort of spray to put on each piece of artwork to preserve them. I hope this will capture some of their process for them to see later on. Perhaps this will give them a glimpse into what they were thinking and feeling.

Someone please remind me NEVER to have another GARAGE SALE!

Charlotte waiting for customers.

The Lemonade Stand was a huge success. Throughout the day Charlotte jumped in the pool and then jumped out to make a sale. I gave her a small bowl of nickels to start her change drawer. She was so thrilled with this, that as each person approached the stand she would start by saying, "Before you buy anything, let me give you some change."

In the above photo Charlotte is sitting with our friend Mark. Mark arrived early to help Michael, Jennifer and my parents get all of the stuff out of the house and into the yard. He also brought baked goods from his wife Luciana. Thanks to their combined effort, the kids made $90.00 at the lemonade stand. $90.00!!!

I must add this tidbit. Charlotte and Josiah and I each got to pick out a "gift" for ourselves with the earnings. Charlotte chose a purring kitten and a tree swing. Josiah got a garbage truck. I went to Williams-Sonoma and chose a new set of measuring cups. I was so proud of Charlotte while we were there. She interrupted my gadget gazing with a shout, "Look Mom! There's Ina Garten and Bobby Flay!" You darling little chef, you! You know a good cookbook when you see one!!

There I am celebrating my freedom from clutter.

Now that I am a few weeks away from the infamous GARAGE SALE, I can admit it was over the top. My Mother's wisdom led us to cancel the second day and I still made well over $500.00. The truth is, it wasn't about the money. The primary benefit for me was having lots of help sorting through stuff. I love camaraderie in a big project. My friends rallied around me and it all worked out. When I say "rallied around" I mean that Laura was with me hammering in signs on the street corners at midnight.

Oh, speaking of friends, earlier I mentioned my friend Mark. It was fantastic having Mark stay around for several hours of the sale. We had many Spanish-speaking customers and Mark was able to chat with them and help us negotiate deals. One man bought 12 shirts, 3 pair of pants and a suitcase. Mark translated for us as we worked out a deal. For some reason, Mark started folding up the pants (as if he worked at Macy's or something). When he did this, he felt something in one of the pockets. He pulled out two $50.00 bills and a $10.00. We could not believe it. Our jaws hit the ground and we burst out laughing. Can you imagine John walking around with $110.00 in his pocket? I bet someone gave him some cash and he stuck it in his pocket. The fact that he never pulled it out of his pocket will tell you how disconnected his mind was from things like that. And by the way, the profit total from the sale does not include that money. I also adjusted for the money I spent on an add and signs, etc!!

Hey Janna, Look! There's Jennifer buying your picnic basket!

Writer's Block

I have something of a writer's block with The Fruitful Vine. My energies are so directed toward grieving and surviving, I have very little for writing. I think of things I would like to write about, but the idea of sitting down and hammering it out, reading it over, editing the mistakes... ugh. It wears me out just thinking about it.

So here is what I have decided. If you want to read The Fruitful Vine, I ask for some grace for mistakes. I am going to opt for the JUST GET IT OUT THERE mode for a while. I will try to write more frequently, shorter posts with virtually no editing. That's how my life is now anyway. Short bursts of energy, unedited. My soul is so busy with the business of life I have trouble writing a grocery list, much less a blog.

So here goes:




Its nine weeks today since John died. I have trouble believing it. My days are obviously empty of his presence, but in the back of my mind I think he'll walk in the door at any minute. Very frequently I think, "I should call John and tell him..."


I found a good book to read with the children. We read Tear Soup everyday. It has been a gift to all of us. Its a picture book that talks about a lady called Grandy who has suffered a loss. Because the loss is not named, it can become many things for many people. This book is a gentle story of a person in mourning. It has given each of us permission to grieve in our own way. I relate to the illustrations that show Grandy's grief taking so much of her attention that clutter piles up and plants die.






Here are a few quotes from Charlotte this week.

Walking through a parking lot we move quickly to avoid an oncoming car. "Come on Mom, we don't want you to die, too." After Charlotte brought up the idea, I told her that we hope and pray I will live to see her grow up and have her own children. I also told her that Daddy and I had talked about what would happen if we both died. Now she knows what our plans are and how she will be cared for in the event of such a tragedy.

While driving in the car, "I have to wait 30 years before I see Daddy again."

"Daddy was such a sweet man. He gave me whatever I wanted." (I'll wait a while before bursting this fantasy- not the sweet part)

Before falling asleep, "I have been thinking. Pooh had problems in his life. He got over them. That's what I need to do. Get over it."

I know that stories are profoundly important for children. My sister-in-law Katherine and I have put our heads together about gathering good literature to read to the kids. I want wonderful stories about honorable men who fulfill all kinds of vocations including being great husbands and fathers.

Never in a million years did I expect Winnie the Pooh to be the first character to take center stage. Thankfully I read the Pooh stories to Charlotte, so I knew what she was talking about. Her ponderings over Pooh led to a discussion about what kind of problems Pooh had and how he handled them. "What did Pooh do when he got into trouble? He went to Owl, to someone he thought was wise who could help him. Together the group of friends went off to find Christopher Robin." Unfortunately our conversation had to end with, "Ya know, Pooh's problem turned out to be a misunderstanding. Christopher Robin's note said he went to school, not to skull, like owl said. Your problem is real. Your Daddy is dead. But I think we will work through this problem like Pooh did. We go for help when we need it and have lots of friends that want to come with us on the journey."

Speaking of children's literature, did you know that the loss of a parent is a major theme in children's literature?? I had forgotten Babar, the wonderful elephant, lost his mother. As we read it yesterday both kids were glued to the story and studying the illustrations of Babar sitting on the dead body of his mother with tears pouring out of his eyes. Babar sees his mother get shot and killed by a "wicked hunter." I heard Charlotte telling a neighbor this story while they were playing ball. Other characters who lose a parent include:


Heidi
Anne of Greene Gables
Bambi
Balto
Annie
Babar
Cinderella
Snow White
Oliver Twist
Nicholas Nickelby
Pippi Longstocking
Harry Potter
Superman
Batman

To Dust You Shall Return

Its been 8 weeks today.

at the burial

I Hit the Wall

The Garage Sale was a great success. We had well over one hundred shoppers. We sold all kinds of things including the moo-moo. By the time we (me, my parents and three friends) pulled everything out of the house in 90 degree heat I was exhausted. I had such a splitting headache I went inside to lie down. Inside I burst into tears feeling overwhelmed and in total disarray. I am glad I went through everything in my house, but I am ready for this phase to be over. We all agreed to pack everything up and call it quits at the end of today's sale. My parents invited me to their home for the night, so we packed our jammies and are putting our feet up in a lovely, orderly and hospitable home.

Pass It On

This week I am throwing myself into de-cluttering my home. I have been through every single drawer and closet we have. With all of the emotional turmoil, it has been invigorating to have an outwardly-directed project to sink my teeth into. It feels good to get rid of things we do not need. I don't want to be weighed down by excess clutter.


PASS IT ON!!





I hope if you live in the area you'll stop by*. We will be here all day Friday 9am to 3pm and hopefully Saturday, but its supposed to rain. Here is one of the items you could get at my Garage Sale for only $1.00! This was my Mother's Day gift from John and the kids in 2007.



This polyester MOO MOO is so hot you can't believe it. And yes, I did wear it in public... twice.


I tried to explain to John later that if you want to bless and affirm your wife, you should generally avoid clothing marked ONE SIZE FITS ALL!

Please come by tomorrow to visit and check out the Fawcett bargains! We are selling a couch, kitchen counter, shelves, clothes, videos, toys, baby items, and tons of kitchen stuff. (If you are salivating at the idea of going through John's books and music, sorry. I am not selling any of that. I hope the kids will get to know John through the books and music he loved.)

Charlotte and Josiah will have a Lemonade and Snack Bar stand, so stop by and support the Charlotte Fawcett Kindergarten clothing fund!

*Speaking of living in the area:

I have not listed on the blog where I live. If you need to know, email me at the address on the right side bar and I'll send it to you. Or, if you live in my town, you may have noticed that our local newspaper published my address with John's obituary. As my friend Sandy says, "That ding-dong newspaper, I am going to write them a letter about this." When I picked up the paper and read the front page obituary I thought it was great until I read...

John Fawcett of 123 Your Street in 321 Your Town

is survived by his wife and two small children...

Suddenly I felt like our home stuck out like a sore thumb. I forgot about it until a woman showed up at my door a week later with a card. She is a widow and read about me in the paper and wanted to offer her support. Of course her support was great, but I suddenly felt vulnerable and all the more obviously alone.

Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I call to you all day long

John died seven weeks ago today.

One week after the funeral we went to the cemetery. We brought a few loose flowers to place on the grave. Charlotte tossed her handful of flowers.

Josiah is thinking about throwing the flowers. Since John died he has had a fear of things blowing away. He is anxious about kites, umbrellas, even his trucks blowing away.

Charlotte and Josiah decide to put the flowers on John's grave and secure them with rocks.

***********************

We are fighting illness of late. We have been coughing and carrying on for weeks. The kids can't run through the yard without gagging. I took them to the doctor today. Our doctor and several other people from her office go to our church. While we were in the waiting room Charlotte told the other patients, "I went to my Dad's funeral." Another patient was a friend from church who played the harp for the Wake. When she saw us she couldn't stop the tears. This prompted Charlotte to say, "Practically everyone in this whole doctor's office knows that my Dad died."

On the car ride home I asked Charlotte, "In the office you said that everyone knows your Dad died. Do you like to go into a place where everyone knows that your Daddy died or do you like to go to places where no one knows?" She said, "I like to go where no one knows, then I get to tell them."

After my previous post, I got an email from a friend that said something like, "In generations back, everyone would know you were grieving by your clothes. You could carry on your normal life, but the black dress told everyone you were mourning." I have thought a lot about this. I feel like I am wearing a shawl of mourning. I go about my life, but there is a constant heaviness. Its not always in my conscious mind, it just IS.

Sometimes I get distracted by the day's events. In moments like these I am taken off guard by tears coming "from nowhere." I will get breakfast, get the kids dressed, read a morning book, sing a morning song and then someone will come to pick up the children. The moment they walk out the door tears begin to pour down my cheeks. My mind had forgotten, but my heart had not. My heart is very efficient at grieving. It takes advantage of every opportunity whether I like it or not.

I have had many conversations with the children about crying. We talked about it before John died. We talk about it now. The gist of these conversations is something like this, "Mommy's heart is broken because Daddy died. My heart is full of tears. Every day I will pour out some of the tears from my heart. I will not cry all the time. I will laugh with you. I will go to the park. I will make breakfast and read books. And sometimes I will cry. I will pour out lots of tears with Jesus and with my friends. I will not cry out all of my tears with you. But sometimes I will cry." Even with these assurances, both kids are afraid of my tears. If Josiah notices a catch in my voice or see my eyes fill with tears he immediately starts shouting, "Don't cry! Why are you crying? Don't cry!"

Hear, O LORD, and answer me, for I am poor and needy.

Guard my life, for I am devoted to you.

You are my God; save your servant who trusts in you.

Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I call to you all day long.

Bring joy to your servant, for to you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.

You are forgiving and good, O Lord, abounding in love to all who call to you.

Hear my prayer, O LORD; listen to my cry for mercy.

In the day of my trouble I will call to you, for you will answer me.

Among the gods there is none like you, O Lord; no deeds can compare with yours.

All the nations you have made will come and worship before you,

O Lord; they will bring glory to your name.

For you are great and do marvelous deeds; you alone are God.

Teach me your way, O LORD, and I will walk in your truth;

give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name.

I will praise you, O Lord my God, with all my heart;

I will glorify your name forever.

For great is your love toward me;

you have delivered me from the depths of the grave.

Psalm 86: 1-13

4th of July

John died six weeks ago today.

I just got an email from a friend whose father died of cancer a few years ago. She asked, "Do you find yourself wanting to tell the cashier what you've been through?" Her question reassured me. I am not alone in this strange phenomenon. The children do this a lot. In fact, at the grocery store yesterday, Josiah told the lady bagging our groceries, "My Daddy died." He has done this several times and of course it shocks the recipient of the news. The lady looked at me for confirmation and I said, "Yes. Its true." Then Josiah said, "He was in pain."

This scene in the grocery checkout line reminded me of the movie Millions. John loved the movie and 18 months ago he led a discussion about it for college students. In one scene the older brother instructs his younger brother to tell people that their Mother died. You see the boys put on long faces to deliver the news and then amazingly receive hand fulls of candy or treats.

4th of July parade with the Miller family.

The weather was glorious in the mid-70's and Sally prepared her traditional Independence Day Blueberry Crumble, hard boiled eggs and iced coffee.

We went to the 4th of July parade in a nearby town. While walking on the sidewalk I found myself telling strangers (in my mind), "MY HUSBAND JUST DIED." On the one hand it is refreshing to go to a community event and celebrate something larger than my own personal drama. On the other hand, my own broken heart is such a constant companion I want to announce it to everyone I meet.

Josiah announced every part of the parade.

Look Mom! Look Mom! Look Mom! Horses! Drums! Firetrucks!

Mary Poppins, me and Charlotte

The kids eager to collect candy from each parade float.

Charlotte told the lady sitting next to us that her Daddy died.

The Fawcett Frenzy when the 4th Finally Fizzled

Now is your time of grief

John's been gone five weeks today.

I have had the privilege of receiving prayer throughout this last year from two wonderful, godly women. Both women have experienced hardship with their husbands' health. Both of their husbands are living, but one has been unable to walk in strength for many years, the other man nearly died of a blood cancer five years ago. These women are full of faith, joy and hope. Every time they invite me to receive prayer, I come away refreshed and hopeful, waiting to see what God will do. When I saw these two women making their way to me at the Wake, their presence assuranced me that the Lord would carry me through and they would be part of the journey.

When I arrived for our luncheon of prayer last Friday Barb said, "There is one thing I want to say to you. It is from the life of Job. 'The LORD blessed the latter part of Job's life more than the first (Job 42: 12).' What you have been through has broken your heart and upturned your life. None of us can see the blessing now, but the Lord is not finished with your life. There is blessing and good to come." We spent the rest of the gathering talking about how terrible John's death was, weeping and praying.

The word of hope for the future struck me. In a way it shocked me. It had never crossed my mind to think of my life in a before and after kind of way. I had never thought about the blessings or lack of blessings in my future. I guess I haven't really thought about the future. I have been riveted to the present.

I have been reading several books about death, grieving, widows and the like. I have been encouraged by the stories of other women working through this kind of grief. After reading, I put the book down and think, "I'm glad to read this, but I still have to go through it myself."

It reminds me of all the reading I did about childbirth when I was pregnant. I couldn't get enough of fetal development, good nutrition, breathing techniques and what to pack for the hospital. All of these things meant that I was on track for a wonderful blessing... a baby. These were delightful moments of reading tucked in my warm bed. I would show each photo of a developing fetus to John and coo, "That's what our baby looks like now, at 14 weeks and 2 days." Looking forward to the birth was half of the fun... no wait, looking forward to it was basically ALL of the fun about childbirth. The point is this, even though I had read all about childbirth, I still had to do it. I still had to go through the pain. No one else's account of their delivery would take away a moment of my own.

This was about the time they told me I couldn't have pain medication.

One thing that did help in childbirth was having John there. When he put his face close to mine I would say, "You have no idea." Its true. He had no idea, but he was there and that helped. This is precisely the difficulty I face now. I am facing an all-consuming pain and John is not here.

He is not here to talk to about my thoughts and feelings.

He is not here to debrief the funeral and all the friends that were there, the beautiful music, the Spirit-filled readings, etc.

He is not here to share the burden of the children's grief.

He is not here to sit with me and read through every card and remember every person that has shown us love.



Because our lives and hearts were knit together, there is no part of my life untouched by the loss of my husband.


So, can I look forward to the next part of my life being blessed? I have no doubt that God is good and that He will redeem all things. As I read those books on childbirth, I knew that eventually I would be holding a bundle of life.

But at this moment I am facing tremendous pain with no relief in sight.

Josiah born Sept 16, 2005 at 10 lb 13 oz

Keep breathing deeply, Margie. Let the pain roll over you. Don't resist it or run away from it. The only way out is through. Come Lord Jesus, come.

I tell you the truth, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world. So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.

John 16: 20-22

Continuing the Vine

Hello, dear friends.

It seems a lifetime has past since I jotted you a note.

It has been exactly four weeks since John died. This month required more of me than I had to give. I have longed for the opportunity to write, but The Fruitful Vine had to take a break.

I have received numerous requests to continue this blog. I will continue to write. I do not know how often I will write or what will come up, but I will continue to write.

I will write about the last few days and moments I had with John.

I will write about the precious moments of worship at the funeral.

I will post photos from the funeral and Memorial Service.

I will post audio and video clips as I can get them digitized.

I will write about grief.

I will write about watching my children grieve.

I will post photos of our family and share moments of summer splashing and bird watching.

I can't imagine anyone but my own Mother wanting to read these musings, but I invite you to join me if you please.

Community Gatherings for Worship

Our community is gathering on several occasions this weekend.
You are welcome to join us in person or in prayer.
Thank you for your love and support, dear friends.
I will write about these experiences in the days ahead as the Lord gives space of heart and time.


Visitation
Friday 3pm to 9pm
Hultgren Funeral Home in Wheaton

Funeral
Saturday 10 am
Church of the Resurrection at Glenbard West High School in Glen Ellyn
Childcare provided Nursery through 5th Grade

Evening Prayer
Sunday 7pm
Pierce Chapel, Wheaton College
Service of prayer, memories, testimonies and music.

Additional information, the obituary and service information can be found at http://www.hultgrenfh.com/ .

May the Lord bless you and keep you,

Margie

Precious in the Eyes of the Lord is the Death of His Saints

John William Fawcett

Friend of God

10-21-61 to 5-27-08

We All Scream for Ice Cream

My health food crazy husband has become a Dilly Bar fanatic. What is a Dilly Bar, you may ask? It is a Dairy Queen treat... artificially flavored vanilla ice cream on a stick dipped in a chocolate flavored shell. Yesterday John ate three Dilly Bars. Don't get me wrong, I don't care if he eats Dilly Bars. I'm thrilled he's eating anything. Its just totally out of character.

This is what I found in the frig on Monday morning. A Dilly Bar with a post-it note that said, "John's for .... (something illegible followed by a smiley face)." Not only is he eating Dilly Bars, he is securing them for future consumption. He sent our friend Kyler on an outing to get two boxes of Dilly Bars. He said, "Kyler can get us a few boxes of Dilly Bars and then he can have one for all he's done for us."

Wednesday John ate a Dilly Bar for breakfast at 6am with a bowl of fruit. Perhaps there is some healing balm within the Dilly Bar that has yet to be discovered by the FDA.

Maybe it is the Dilly Bar that has prolonged his life beyond what the doctor thought possible. I do know that Dilly Bars have brought him moments of pure delight. In the midst of days filled with physical pain, a simple pleasure is a blessing.

There are so many things I would like to share, but finding a moment to write is becoming more difficult. John's sense of well-being is intimately related to a secure connection with me. While I have friends coming to be with John, it is often only my presence that will help him resolve a confusion or question.

Our evenings, nights and early mornings are peppered with long, confused conversations about medications, seizures and death. The hospice nurse told me today that this kind of nighttime rumination and activity is very common. We are working on finding the right medication to help with this, but she suggested we have friends spend the night a few times a week so that I can sleep. My ability to manage stress and stay healthy are running thin as the sleep is running low.

Tonight is the first night we have a friend spending the night in the bedroom with John so I must take advantage of it and get to bed upstairs.

Surprised by Blogging

Over a year ago my friend Taryn told me she was giving up reading blogs for Lent. I asked her, "What in the world is a blog and why would you need to give it up?" This was the beginning of my education in the world of cyber diaries. Since that time I have discovered many wonderful blogs as well as the temptation to read "just one more thing."


When John received the diagnosis of cancer metastasis one year ago, he had it in his heart to start a blog. He did start a blog and you can read his entries by clicking the link Married Bloggers on the right side bar here on The Fruitful Vine. John has not been able to write for some time, although he still has the desire to do so. He came to the computer this morning at 6am and tried to do some writing. He was not successful. When John started his blog I asked him if I could post a few photos on it and give an update on the family. He tried to say as kindly as he could, "Get your own blog." Thus the Fruitful Vine was born--- planted. He is so proud of me and this blog. He encourages everyone to read it saying, "The Lord is using it."


I have found blogging a great delight. Writing has been a great way to express my heart and pay attention to what the Lord is teaching me. I would write the blog for my own edification, but I am filled with delight when I hear that people read it. Only the Lord can transform something painful and withering into fruit and life for others. Praise the Lord. This blog has kept me from feeling lonely and isolated as much as that is possible.

I also recently found out that there is a way to make a hardcover book out of a blog. This is a dream come true for me, as this blog is one of the ways I hope to tell the children what this season of our lives was like.

Several things I have posted on the blog have turned difficult situations into pools of water. During the long, bitter Chicago winter I put this picture of our sliding glass door covered with ice.

Sleeping Two Inches from Ice

You can read the entire post here: http://margiefawcett.blogspot.com/search?q=The+Frozen+Chosen

A few weeks after I put the photo on my blog, I received an email that an anonymous donor was giving us a new sliding glass door. Can you imagine? It took several months to work out the details, but our new door was installed yesterday. Thanks be to God and thanks to the Icy Door Rescue Mission Team!

Sliding Glass Door Installation

The door is absolutely beautiful and glides open like a Spring Breeze. In this way we have received a gift straight from God thanks to the collaboration of his people somewhere in the world.

After a post about juicing organic vegetables we received a Gift Card to Whole Foods. After a post on enjoying pizza in the Cancer Center we received a Gift Card for Lou Malnati's!



Perhaps you'll remember the post around Easter when I said that John was exhorting me for "hoity-toitying" around with pagan celebration rites. That week I received this gift with a card that said, "For your hoity-toitying." I loved it.

Mints for my pillow

When I wrote the post about all of the wonderful things my in-laws did when they were here, I said something like, "Doesn't that bed look inviting? The only thing missing is the mint on the pillow." The next day this box of candy appeared on my doorstep with a note, "For your pillow." It makes me smile just thinking of it.

And so I thank you all for reading The Fruitful Vine. My friend Mark said to me yesterday, "I shouldn't read your blog during my first period study hall. The students are going to look up and see the tears rolling down my face!" We are grateful beyond expression for the way you all have held us in your hearts. Thank you.