Remembering to Remember


“Ask the former generations…”

Just over a year ago, we began to make public our family story and journey spanning 25 years now.

What is this all about?  Our first year, we’ve recounted our individual Perspectives along with some of my personal journey in collecting researching & grieving along the way.

Honestly, there are so many layers, textures, tensions, nuances… finding a place to begin was a difficult first step.

I’ll never forget the afternoon my husband came home with Frederick Buechnner’s Telling Secrets.  My husband had been working with a friend.  Somehow they got onto the topic of untimely death and grief.  This friend suggested to my husband that I read this book.

Over the course of just a couple deep days, I met a kindred mind whose heart inked onto pages and pulsed pain, yes… but beauty and compassion most resounding.

Again, over the years, I’m not sure of one writer who has impacted my journey more into the deep.  But from that initial reading, I distinctly remember feeling shock & gut-clenching emptiness as he recounted his father’s death when he was just a boy.  Due to the nature of the death,   young Frederick’s family – not only did they not have any type of funeral or memorial service- they were to speak little of the man again.

This man… Frederick’s Dad died… by suicide.  (That’s how they say to phrase it today.  ‘They’ don’t want us to say ‘commit suicide’ anymore.  I’ll leave this discussion for another day.)

Immediately, I yearned to run back to 1936– and circle this family up tight.  Love on them.  Love on them with the wringing of words.

You know… Oh, we must talk this out. Get the feelings out, right?  Now!
And yet, in the few scant words chosen, we hear … straining strength tidying … with true tenderlings…

“‘Your father was gentle… 

The world is not gentle.'”

Frederick Buechner

The Sacred Journey pg. 28

What Truth!  We recognize it.  And if I am honest, I prefer to see & accept the surface of this… the dual between grandeur & gentleness… the myth & the man… the war of the world.

Throughout the 25 years of this personal, family loss as well as the writing project, I’ve discovered the deepest well of Hope.

The thirst exposing… the thirst quenching kind.  Living Hope.

I also have discovered some enter & endure life with a toughening up… a fragmenting, maybe.  You know, I hurt here, but you’ll never know because I hide it with humor… or hiding myself.

Or maybe even relegating hurt to the past and never looking back.

Through this journey, I’ve discovered I’m one who has been called into a space of softness … a space I’ve often earnestly resisted.

This softness holds a tension.  A tension that feels deeply (I can’t seem to tame, leash, or avoid empathy… though I’ve tried.) and thinks intricately (not claiming to be a smart-y by any means- just saying my mind hits overdrive with or without my permission.)

This tension in our times can easily seem off.  Something is wrong.  Just, generally as a culture we’re more comfortable avoiding the annoying & complaining away the minutely uncomfortable, we’ve no room for the deeper, darker, real & relevant as aspects of the human existence.

Those parts that demand an entering into… that entering draws into Eternity while breathing our own moments in history.

The Scriptures and the Spirit of the Living God unveiled mighty mysteries to me throughout the journey.

The forthcoming series, Remembering to Remember, will unveil more clearly some of the earthy and eternal elements I’m learning along the way.

We’ll work through the family Perspectives, some of my more personal wranglings as well as address more of your questions and comments.

Thank you for journeying with us.  We know how uncomfortable shadows can be.   The shadow of death is real; yet, so is the All-Sufficient Shadow of the Almighty.  And the chasm between the two… may be a jousting … for minds, hearts, souls, strength, and real community.

“My soul continually remembers it 

and it bow down within me.

But this I call to mind, 

and therefore I have hope

the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,

His mercies never come to an end; 

they are new every morning 

great is your faithfulness.

‘The Lord is my portion’, says my soul ‘therefore I will put my hope in him.’ 

The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. “

Lamentations 3:20-25 ESV

Remembering to Remember is an act of the will.  It is not the same as the cliche “getting stuck in the past.”  Why?  Stuck in the past is passive.  Remembering to Remember is active, intentional, and always points to Living Hope.

So we invite you to join in our journey of collecting remembrances that root & bloom hope from a hardy, gritty place.  How can you join in?

As always, you may comment here on the blog, comment on our Facebook page, send us a Facebook message…

and NEW this year… For this series, “Remembering to Remember,” we are going to add the hashtags –

#RememberingToRemember

&
#LivingHope

– for you to share your own faith stories connecting the earthy tensions with the steadfast love and eternal hope.
What a delightful realm to live

-not demanding only happy or sad,-

but daily seeking & finding abundance & leaning in… sharing compassion.

Living Hope,

Heidi

 

Oh, and if you’re just stumbling across this space for the first time, I invite you to check out the following to get to know us a bit.  We’d love to get to know you as well.

He Stopped Laughing

Perspectives

… from Heidi’s hand …

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Great-Grandparents Grieve (part 1)

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PERSPECTIVES:

When invited to participate in this perspective endeavor reflecting on Jamie’s life and subsequent suicide, most family members offered openness to share their story.   However, most did not feel either capable or comfortable to write their own perspectives.  Therefore, I conducted oral interviews to establish primary source material from which to write on their behalf in the first person.  In each perspective, you can expect “Reflections on the Interview” and “Brief History.”  Both sections are written in the third person.  Then, the voice will shift to first person for their Perspective.

We welcome you here.  This remains tender space for us.  So join us accordingly.  Know you’re also welcome to subscribe to receive email links as we publish pieces here.

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Our Maternal Great-Grandparents, Phil and Ruth,  share their grief over Jamie’s death.  Their perspective will be presented here in segments, so keep your eyes open for the remaining parts.

Each family on earth is a magic kingdom,

and the spell that is casts

are long-lasting and powerful.”(1)

Frederick Buechner

            Oral Interview:  July 1997

Reflections on the Interview:

After 70 plus years of marriage and physical limitations (hearing loss) and the emotional weight of the conversation, I (Heidi) opted to interview our great-grandparents, Philip and Ruth, together.  Then, I compiled notes from the transcripts to write their perspective in a collective voice rather than conduct separate interviews resulting in individual voices.  Unless otherwise noted with “I (individual name),” their “we” voice reflects both of them.

They needed each other, even five years after his death, to even speak about Jamie and especially the manner of death.  I wish you could have heard the rising voices as well as the faint whispers.  I wish you could have seen her tenderly patting his arm as he wiped the endless flow of tears.   And the speaking turns… when one slowed thoughts and speech, the other spoke up.  Often repeating in agreement or possibly adding to clarify, a couple reflecting their enduring love.  They learned and lived a rhythm together for seven decades.

Our great-grandparents adored each other immensely.  And they spilled that adoration over to our entire family.  Our earliest lessons of discipline and love came from them.

Brief History:

Philip’s parents emigrated from Sicily just prior to his birth in the early 1900s.  He was the first American born of his immediate family.  His mother spoke only Italian.  He described his family as typical of Italian immigrants living in the Chicago area at the time.  (Due to mob complications, he eventually changed his last name…which is another story.)  When he married Ruth, he thought she was 18 years old.  She and her mother had stretched the truth a bit.  She was just 15 years of age.  When the family teased her about this, her characteristic response, “Oh phoo-eey, I was practically 16.”

Ruth, the youngest of a Scotch-Irish family, loved people with the absolutely most unique (I get these are ambiguous non-writer words… but with her, they are the only ones that fit.) blend of toughness and tenderness.  Standing tall at five feet, she nuzzled in with tight hugs, huge squinty-eyed smiles, and commonly pinched waists to determine how well we were eating.  She never lost her youthful sense of adventure or her uncanny ability to speak the tough truths with the deepest love to anyone from family to first time meeting her.   Although cultural Catholicism was the extended family norm, Philip & Ruth accepted Jesus as personal Savior and became practicing Protestants after they had three children of their own.

Eventually, Philip graduated from Moody Bible Institute, and he became a preacher of the gospel of Jesus.  He pastured congregations in the Great Plains including Colorado, Nebraska, and Wyoming.  His favorite hobby:  fishing.   Ruth actively served these communities.  And she fried his fish to everyone’s delight.  It was in one of the Swedish settlements in southeast Wyoming, their only daughter Phyllis would find her groom Kenneth, a World War II hometown hero.

During retirement, Philip and Ruth spent several years wintering in south Texas or Florida and summering on their son-in-law and daughter’s farm.  When age slowed their bodies some, they relocated into an all year round assisted living facility where they remained active socially.  Ruth commonly checked in on those who did not have many visitors, read many books, and kept an immaculately tidy tiny home.  Philip continued to watch boxing, write sermons, and find a good theological discussion wherever with whomever he could.

Philip:  June 27, 1905 – January 26, 1999  &  Ruth: September 10, 1910 – April 6, 2003

Additional Note:  Many question the theological implications of suicide.  Some prefer to avoid such questions altogether.  These questions are not my primary focus.  My primary focus remains our discovery of Living Hope beyond the shadow of death.  In a pluralistic day like ours, the inclusion of such wrestling as well as subsequent findings may stir additional discomfort and potential disagreement among readers.  I have intentionally not edited my great-grandparents’ theological conversational points on this because their words reflect both his and her hearts’ Life beat.

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 Perspective:

 Great-Grandparents Grieve (part 1)

Before delving into this most difficult subject in our long lives, we must convey what has been most important in our lives.  The Lord Jesus Christ touched us when we young parents, and His touch has changed us.  Next only to Him, our family is of supreme importance to us.  Our definition of family includes blood relatives, their spouses, and every branch leading to us and flowing from us.  We feel responsible for them- no matter how old we are.  We love to be with our family as often as we can; they are the joy of our lives.

We lived a great many years with many trials and pains within the family.  Sadly, we endured loss in various forms…severed relationships, divorce, and death.  Oh, how these struggles have pained us!  When some of our grandchildren chose to divorce, we hurt so badly.  Oh, how we wished we could do something to patch-up the brokenness in those marriages!  However, nothing could have prepared us for the pain of losing Jamie…

“Ask the former generations and find out what their fathers learned,

for we were born only yesterday, and know nothing,

and our days on earth are

but a shadow.”

Job 8:8-9 NIV

to be continued…  Great-Grandparents Grieve (part 2)