We’ve had a bit of a rough month over here in the Wolters’ household.  First we lost Ja’s brother, with all of the extra stuff that goes along with it.  Then, this week, Ja’s Beppe went home to meet Kenny.

Now, this is an amazing life.  She was 90 ish years old.  Had 12 children.  40 grandchildren.  42 great grandchildren.  When she died, she was 3 days shy of her 70th wedding anniversary.  Now, that is a legacy.

It’s a funny thing though, all of this death that we’ve been struggling our way through.  Ja has said about his Beppe many times, “this one just makes sense at least.  It makes sense.”  A long life.  Many many descendants.  A faithful life.  She had hard times, she had good times.  Whenever I saw her, she had a grin on her face, and even with all of those grandkids and their spouses kicking around, she never ever forgot my name.  Every Christmas she would warmly clasp my hand in hers and say, “Yamie.  So happy you are here.”  (She was dutch, hence the “y”)

It’s a tricky place to be though, this reeling from death, reeling from grief.  We just seem to get our feet under us, and then are knocked for a loop again.  But, I know that we are held up.  That this too shall pass, and on the other side, and there always is an other side, we will stand tall, proud of our memories and happy to share them.

In the meantime tho?  In the meantime we simply do the next thing.  And the next thing leads to the next.  And eventually, it will become routine again, this doing the next thing, and then the new reality, the new life without those few loved ones will feel normal.

Just do the next thing.

I know that I’ve been a bit AWOL lately….  Things around here have been a wee bit hectic.  Insane?  Weird?  Definitely overwhelming.

It all started three weeks ago with a phone call from Ja’s brother Ian.  Their other brother, Kenny, had died in his sleep that day.  He was 34.

We don’t know the actual cause of his death yet, just that he couldn’t be woken up, and then he was simply gone.  Taken home.  He left behind a wife and two small children.

The first three days after his death were fairly torturous.  We couldn’t find Ja’s parents.  They had just left on a cross Canada tour…  their first one ever.  They were headed from central Ontario all the way to British Columbia, a dawdling tour, with full intents of shooting off the highway if the whim so took them that way.

They do not own a cell phone.

Yup.  The thought was that they do have a GPS doohickey, and no one, not one of us thought that WE would need to contact them.  We’re all healthy, things are good, and if THEY needed help, they had one of those panic button thingies on the doohickey.

All we knew is that they left London at around 10 AM, and were headed west.

Canada is a very large country.

We made a phone call to the OPP, who, unfortunately were very little help.  The people that were finally able to help us locate them?  Canada Parks.  They were amazing.  They checked the system every few hours and emailed us an update.  They were kind, they even had one park ranger at a certain park drive around to see if they were still in the camp.

Ultimately, it was Canada Parks who caught them signing in at Kakabeka falls and gave them the message to call us.

I think that may have been the hardest thing that Ja has ever done in his life.  He had to tell his mom, over a bad connection no less, that her son was dead.

Her youngest son was dead.

Parents are not supposed to outlive their children.  Ja said afterward that he has never ever heard his mom make that kind of noise before.  He said that he hopes we never ever are on the receiving end of a phone call like that.

But, I am very thankful to the Lord that up until that point?  They had a wonderful trip together.  Ja’s Dad said that it was three of the best days of their married life together.  Was that intended to shore them up so that they could deal with the heartbreak of losing their youngest child?

Ja and I have seen a lot of death in the past few years.  We both lost our grandmothers last year, and we also lost a very dear friend.  Nothing has been like this though.  Nothing has seemed so… personal… so wounding.  So heartbreaking.

My niece and nephew are aged 2 and 1 respectively.  My niece spends most of her days screaming “DADDY” whenever her front door opens, and dissolving in inconsolable tears when someone leaves.  At first she thought that her Daddy was playing hide and seek, and she would search the house for him.

When my Gramma died, I was heartbroken.  We went to the funeral, we mourned.  I miss her still to this day, but we moved on.

This?  This is going to be an open wound for a good long while.  I had to marry Ja to get brothers.  Kenny was a brother to me, we went to highschool together, we sat on the bus.  He made fun of me when I cried because Ja went back to Thunderbay, and then would tell me jokes and make me laugh until I felt better.

He had a grin and a laugh like you wouldn’t believe.  We would always say that Kenny was such an ASS.  And yet, he was the most lovable bear of an ass I have ever met.

His pride over his kids was something to see.  He got so excited about the least little thing they did, and would happily tell the whole world about it.

Kenny was a dreamer and a schemer.  Fully willing to take the ribbing if you would just spend 10 minutes listening to his latest scheme.

We didn’t see him enough.  We felt used a lot of the time, and yet now?  Now we won’t ever get that time back.

Kenny was a believer.  He knew where he was going when he died, and there is no doubt in my mind that he was right.  There is hope there.  Hope that we will see him again, that we will hear that laugh again, and that we will be able to smack that bear of a man when he makes a silly teasing comment.

Kenny was a son, he was a brother, he was a husband and a father.  He was a nephew and a friend.  Kenny was… Kenny.

I look forward to the day when I see him again.

We’ve had one of those months, actually, the last few months have just been a bit hectic.  Busy.  Crazy even.  It’s so easy to lose track of each other and become like roommates when that happens.  It’s hard tho, to get back to being friends again, to being husband and wife, to remembering that relationship that sustains.  It’s especially hard while dealing with the pressures of life when it’s often easier to pass each other by.

Ja and I had hit that point this past month.  Friends of ours noticed.  Those friends became very very bossy, booked us a room at a stunning bed and breakfast in Havelock, and stole the children for the entire weekend.  And then??  Then they made us dinner before sending us home.

Sadly, they did make us take the hooligans home with us… the only real downfall.

((KIDDING!!  Really!!))

Friday night I dropped the hooligans off at Tony and Theresa’s, and ran madly away. I threatened to never return. Theresa said she knew where we lived. It was a very sweet and moving moment.

((as an aside, this is how crazy she is, she has FOUR children of her own, the youngest is 7 months, the oldest is 7. She took MY THREE hooligans, and HER HUSBAND WAS AWAY ALL DAY. You heard me. Seven hooligans aged 8 and under. It takes a special kind of crazy for that nonsense!))

Saturday morning, we leisurely woke up, were a bit weirded out at the quiet in the house, puttered around a little bit, then set off for Havelock.

Havelock isn’t terribly far from us. About an hour if you dawdle. We dawdled. Then we drove up to this…

And I died from how gorgeous it was. That’s just the outside. The inside was even more stunning. The best part?? I did not once, in the entire time we were there, step on any legos.

The gardens surrounding the wrap around porch were exactly right. With just enough of that chaotic hither to to satisfy my flighty side, and enough taming to satisfy my just so side.

The day that we got there, we checked in, dumped our bags in our stunning room, and went out for a walk. I’m going to need more adjectives for this place, I think… everything was just so PRETTY. I felt completely and totally soothed. My soul quieted, and I reached for Ja’s hand. We just had to stand and BE for a minute.

We went for a walk along the trail, Judy made sure to send us with a snack and keys for the small cabin in case it down poured on us. We weren’t totally prepared for hiking, I neglected to bring good shoes, but the birks handled it pretty well. It was a bit wet, but still gorgeous.

When we got back to the house, about two hours later, after having a picnic dinner together, we got to enjoy the company of the lovely Judy and Des. We were treated to tea and homemade brownies.

I need to take a second to talk about this sweet sweet couple. We felt so incredibly welcome. They were warm and kind, were interested in us and our lives. We got to talk homeschooling and learn about their house. Ja got to talk oil spill stuff, Judy and I talked a bit about crafting. They were just so absolutely delightful!

From the kitchen window in the house, there were deer, and wild turkey. Squirrels and chipmunks. Birds of all kinds. You were so close to them, and they were so unafraid… I really did wish that the hooligans could have seen it.

And the room. Oh the room. I told Ja we were going to need to get a king sized bed pronto. I practically had to phone him from my side of the bed!

It was the little touches that really made it though. The candles on the dresser, the baskets of books and magazines. The tray with glasses and ice bucket on the end of the bed. No lego to step on.

And then there was the tub. Oh the tub. We did forgo the walk on the second day, JUST so that I could have another bath. By myself this time. (pretend you didn’t read that, Dad)

This was the best bubble bath ever. I don’t know what it was, but it was in this pretty pretty glass jar, and I used it. And I liked it. It smelled nice, it made the water a lovely blue colour, and there were loads and loads of bubbles!!

I didn’t get a picture of the breakfast, but I should have. The table was so lovely, all set with cloth napkins and nice china. There was bacon and sausages and eggs and homemade blueberry waffles the size of your head, and fruit and yogurt, and endless tea and coffee. I was beyond full when we were done. That Judy, she can COOK. I’m surprised Des isn’t four hundred pounds by now, frankly!

After a lovely leisurely morning getting packed up and ready to go, we hugged our newfound friends goodbye, and promised to return again. Which we will. (Hey, Theresa, whatcha doing next weekend?)

Then we were off to Ferris Provincial Park for a little dawdling walk over the suspension bridge there.

It was a bit freaky to be walking across and looking down. It threw off my perspective a little bit.

It was nice to wander in and out of the shade… absorb some sunshine. And get geared up to go back to the daily grind.

You know tho? What the best part of the whole weekend was? Aside from rediscovering each other? It was knowing that we have friends, such good and sweet friends who knew us well enough to know that we needed this. I cannot say how thankful I am that the Lord brought us all together. I cannot say how thankful I am that they gave us this opportunity to reconnect, to find each other, to play again.

It had been much too long.

Even though I’ve missed a couple of weeks, it is never too late to count those blessings.  (More about the party and the romantic weekend later…)

311.  farewell cancer party
312. family and friends gathered to help celebrate
313. turkey
314. Dads who are crazy about barbecuing
315. pot luck
316. sisters who don’t like having their picture taken, but do it anyway
317. Moms who are obviously beaming with joy at having her girls all together
318. sisterly bickering
319. sisterly drama (the fun kind)
320. cattle prods
321. discussing the possibility of cattle prod use in the raising of children
322. hooligans running around with water guns
323. Moms running around with water guns
324. Old, rickety play structures
325. bossy friends who steal your children and send you away for the weekend
326. long walks and reconnecting with the one you’re supposed to be with
327. bathtubs big enough for two
328. lingerie (pretend you didn’t read that, Dad!)
329. sleeping in
330. king sized beds
331. a breakfast fit for kings and queens
332. more walks, over top of the river
333. butterflies and bugs
334. crisp cold water to cool off hot feet
335. Remembering why, remembering when, remembering love

There comes a time when something happens that makes you absolutely unequivocally count your blessings.  When you are so glad that it’s something minor, when you are so thankful that it’s a simple fix.  When it could have been so so much worse than it was.

Yesterday we had a gathering with a few friends and many children.  The kids ran amok, the adults chatted and ate, the sun was shining.  There was dirt, rocks, jumping, and, unfortunately, hammers.

Which led to a trip to emergency.

Which led to our son’s first CT scan.

280. Snuggles with Daddy while waiting… and waiting…
281. Mama being thankful that she actually DID renew the health cards last week.

282. A health care system where we don’t have to worry if we’ll be able to get a CT scan AND eat this week.

283. A daddy, worried about a son who is terribly afraid of the unknown.
284. A CT tech who explained every little thing about what was going to happen to a nervous little boy.
285. A CT tech who asks where he goes to school, and responds to the homeschool answer, “WELL, you know what that means? That you’re homeschooled? It means you’re getting a GREAT education.”
286. A boy who responds, “Yah, and we get a lot of breaks too!”
287. A completely normal CT scan

288. A CT tech who KNEW a six year old boy would love to see a picture of his eyeballs… from the inside.
289. A kind and gentle nurse who found the wound in spite of the matted bloody hair.
290. Friends who pray.
291. Friends who stay.
292. Friends who just plain care.
293. A little boy who just may be a little more careful when smashing rocks.
294. A little boy who gets such joy out of something as simple as smashing rocks.
295. My healthy and happy little boy, home, safe, in my arms.