Thailand Mission Trip

Yes, it has been a while since this trip actually occurred, but Compass Church is gearing up for another trip to Thailand in the summer of 2019.  Got me thinking about the last one and thought I would finally post my notes from the 2017 trip.

Community of Blessing

Medical Mission

Chaing Mai, Thailand 

Dec 30, 2016 (I think)

Arrived last night in Chaing Mai.  It was too late and dark to be able to see much,  temperature was about 72 degrees (lovely, but muggy).  The plane rides has significant turbulence and were soooo long.  On the first leg, I watched five movies during the first half (Suicide Squad, Finding Dory, Nerve, The Secret Life of Pets, and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest).  Listened to music and napped on the second half (surprisingly, I liked Ariana Grande and Demi Lovato's newest albums).  On the ride to the university, noticed several familiar Western sites...KFC, McDonalds, and a 7-Eleven on every corner.  Greeted by staff and students with a flower necklace and for some reason it was more special than the tourist-y Hawaiian necklace that is given on island vacations.  We got a quick tour of the facility and began to unpack.  The new mattresses were hard as concrete, but glad for a pillow.  Somehow, I fell asleep quickly.  Fairly quiet, but awakened at 6am by crows from roosters and a disturbed cat.  Figured it was a good time to shower before everyone woke.  Forgot soap!

Today will start orientation and training. Shouldn't be too stressful.

Dec 30, 2106

Evening

Went over to the new campus property to see the school facilities that have been recently built and the bulk over the training was conducted over there.  Nice facility, constructed with significant quantities of local bamboo.

Carmen, one of the Thailand Mission leaders, mentioned that this trip was significant because of the size of the group, but also because one of the villages that we were going to this year was a village that the Mission Founder started a church plant and ran the church for about 3 years, in the sixties.  After that time the village leadership turned more hostile to the Christian faith and ultimately arrested and tried the founder.  He was kicked out and the church had to be abandoned.  Fast forward to last year, as a new generation has risen in leadership ranks, the village leader comes to see what the mission team is doing in a neighboring village.  He is so impressed that he specifically invites the mission to come back to this original village at the next opportunity, so the message of Christ can be heard again in this area to this new generation and help can be given to those that live there.

In the morning, I found out that I, along with most of the guys, was assigned to the construction crew.  I talked with the group leader and explained that with the back surgery and 10 years of industry experience that I would likely be more effective in the pharmacy role.  It didn't hurt that when describing each of the functional areas she mentioned that the pharmacy area tends to get backed up and somewhat overwhelmed.  She was very understanding with regard to the surgery limitations and willingly agreed, even suggested, that I move to the pharmacy team.  When we get together for the functional training and are introducing ourselves, the main doc that is associated with the mission loved the dermatology bent to my experience.  He also loves to use the mission efforts to get people to come out of their comfort zone, believe in their abilities, and hopefully learn and be able to grow and use the experience in future missions (he is a board certified doc in ER and family practice and he is trying to grow and learn the dentistry side of the mission).  We can use the lack of government regulation to grow and explore these roles with decision making responsibilities, but not for the specific intent to run over the rules.  Instead we are there to supplement the existing health structure in place for the (often) marginalized people.  Toward the end of his presentation he even specifically asks if I was going to run the pharmacy efforts.  So I went from construction crew to 'in charge' of the pharmacy within a couple hours...Crazy, but a challenge that I am loving tackling.

We spent the rest of the morning sorting and inventorying that medicines that were on hand and making sure that they had not expired.  In the afternoon session, the task was to get the most common, frequently used medicines and vitamins prepackaged and ready for quick and easy dispensing.  So I was leading a group of 10-12 people in getting these meds broken down from bottles to little packets of 20 tabs.  Honestly, most of my focus was trying to take hurdles out of their path in their individual tasks, opening large bottles and removing the tamper resistant seals, making sure they did not run out of the packets to put them in, cleaning trash and silicone packets out of their workspace, making sure that they had the needed bottles near them, etc.  But there was the occasional question that was asked, like I knew what was going to happen on site.  'Answer with conviction and fix it onsite if it is wrong' served me well, but it was fun to feel like I was leading this team.  Hopefully things go smoothly at the villages and we can make use of the additional practitioners that are available on this larger mission trip.  I definitely do not want to be the bottleneck.

After dinner, several of the students developed a worship service for the group and lead the missioners in singing and prayer.  They did really well, despite feeling nervous.  You can really tell that the notion of stretching yourself and your comfort zone and leadership development are core fundamentals that are taught and encouraged throughout the efforts of the School and Mission work.

That is all for today, tomorrow we load the vans and then have about a six hour ride to where we are headquartered for the next few days.  Going to try to turn in early and beat the jet lag!

Dec 31

Transit day to Pua

Not much mission related for this day, as we were in transit for most of it.  We started the day catching up with family back home, as the new campus has decent wi-fi access.  Got to FaceTime Hailey, Cooper, and Tammy, it was good to see their faces and I miss them much.  They were at the TCU/KU basketball game, I'm hoping KU won.  Then I FaceTimed with my parents and caught them up with what was going on.  I was able to show them some of the new campus building that we were at and go over upcoming plans.  There was no apparent lag in the video stream, which was surprising considering we are literally half way around the world.  The ability to video chat through today's technology is super cool.  Before the kiddos came along, I remember traveling internationally and we would just go off the grid for that period of time.

The trip to the 'resort' that we are based out of for the next few days took about 7 hours to reach.  The route there was very strange, as we went significantly south and then turned north as we eventually drifted eastward.  I am assuming that this was more a function of geography rather than purposeful sightseeing of the countryside.  In general, the drive is smooth, mostly four lane highway or major thoroughfares between towns and cities, with an occasional pinch point in a couple smaller villages.  Saw a couple of very large and ornate Buddha statues along the highway, hopefully I can have the camera better prepped for pics on the return to the college in Chaing Mai.

Some more general observations of this area of Thailand...even now in the 'cool season', it is very lush and green with heavy vegetation all around.  There is a sense of poverty, but it does not feel oppressive.  Like it is there but they just accept and keep on being.  Safety has not felt to be in jeopardy in all the places that we have been in.  Nothing like the more oppressive version of poverty that presents in Central and South American areas.  Perhaps it is more cultural and/or more hopeful, and it helps that prices in general seem quite low (a 1.25 liter bottle of Coke, two packs of Kleenex, and a bag of hard candies cost me 75 bhat at a 7-Eleven rest area that we stopped at along the way, about $2.10 US).

The other thing that was noticeable was the vehicle population. The cars are set up for right-hand driving, so they drive on the left side of the road.  Some roads are very Western in their feel and others are more stereotypical of third world roads.  Granted there are lots of motorcycles, scooters, and bicycles, but some of the roadways are very narrow.  If I had my truck on them another car could not pass coming the opposite direction.  Composition is mostly Toyota, Honda, Mitsubishi, and Isuzu.  There is an occasional Benz or BMW and then a Ford Ranger truck or Jeep CJ will make a rare appearance.  No GM's.  Not sure if it is a right hand drive issue...There are more cars than I expected, but (at least in these areas that are less populated) we have not really run into traffic issues.

Jan 1, 2017

Today is the first day of our clinic operations.  Everyone is excited.  The day started out cloudy and humid and progressed into light rain through most of the day.  We had about a 15 minute drive to the construction team site.  It was at a church where they were needing an additional building.  Some children arrived for a church service while we were there and we got to see them and the college students interacting with them.  You could tell that they had been there before, as there were a lot of hugs and happy smiles.

After that stop we loaded back up in the vans and began a 30 minute ride up the mountains, with lots of ups and downs and twists and turns.  The road was recently put in and it was a journey with incredible beauty and forestry.  There was one section of the road that you would swear was modeled from the corkscrew at Laguna Seca.  It would have been a real joy to drive that road in a Corvette.

When we arrived at the village they has us go up a very steep hill and set up shop in an elementary school.  The medical folks set up in one classroom and we set up pharmacy in the next classroom.  Dental was down at the end of the class building in what looked to be a chapel type of area.  Setup went fairly smoothly, I got the various medicines organized by class of drug and we went over some of the instructions from the mission leader with the translator that was assigned to pharmacy.  Our team comprised of the student translator, Uuan, two other older ladies, Jessica and Barb that worked in a diagnostic lab, and myself.  Got the ladies setup to receive the Rx's, prep the bags the medicine would go into and write down the number of pills to take and times per day.  I would pull the medicines and talk with the docs on more complex requests.  The crowds were a little lighter than expected, likely due to the weather issues, but that allowed us to find our rhythm and work out kinks in the processes, as well as being able to spend more time with the translator to make sure that instructions were well understood for the various medicines.  There had been mention of one of the drugs used to treat impetigo and I asked Dr. Ken (the head doc for the mission) if we would see any cases, and if we did if he could come get me to see it.  We had a drug at Galderma that was in development for impetigo and thought it would be cool to see the condition first hand.  No impetigo showed up, but we did have one dermatology patient come through that he had me examine.  A little eight year old boy with severe dry skin/eczema on the legs and arms and dry skin on the trunk front and back.  Not really sure how it came to be, but we thought it might be caused by bathing in laundry soap.  Dr. Ken had me apply Vaseline to the legs and lotion to the arms and trunk to get some immediate hydration to the skin.  Then set him up with more lotion and Vaseline for the future. Very cool moment for me to be involved in the exam and treatment of this little boy and another example of how these folks take areas of expertise and interest and really get the volunteers involved.

Most the the patients were aches and pains related and were setup with NSAIDs and vitamins.  Again, the goal is to supplement and support the existing medical system more than fixing problems.  Show love and compassion for these people and using the medical clinic as a way to open more doors for the church.  We finished the day with 92 patients that came through.  85 more used the vision services for glasses and dental had 40 that were treated.  Felt like the dental was light, but in talking with Dr Ken on the way back to the hotel, typically they see about 40 dental patients in the entire three days.  Having double the staff of dentists and hygienists really opened the floodgates as far as they were concerned, so very cool.

The fog persisted through the day and into the evening as we left, so the view was very muted, but I think we all left feeling good, smiling, but tired.  When we left the village I had to climb into a different van, as the one I was originally assigned to was the construction group.  There was room in the lead van so I jumped in.  It also had the mission leaders in it, including Dr Ken.  As he got in he slapped my left and told me good job today, which made me feel very satisfied with the day's efforts.

Jan 2, 2017

Day two of the clinics.

It is a much brighter and clearer day today, but 6:30am came early!  Slept pretty soundly despite the rock hard beds.

We had about a 45 minute drive to today's work site.  The views today were even more beautiful than the first day.  It was less mountainous and more agricultural, less ups and downs and more diverse natural beauty.  Along the way we went through a couple of villages with buildings that were more developed. The woodwork and the bamboo exteriors on some of these buildings were amazing and ornate.  As we got closer to what we thought was going to be our destination, we went through a small town and then turned into the police station and provincial government office buildings.  Considering that this is a Buddhist country with no separation of church and state, even I knew that this was a big deal.  The government may not be outwardly hostile to Christianity, but it is typically not friendly either.  As it came to be known later, the recent rains had made some of the roads rougher in passage, so the governmental leaders opened the provincial assembly hall to us and spread the message to all the surrounding villages.  Remarkably good luck, God's deliverance, and/or the reputation of Community of Blessing doing good work and treating people with compassion and love...whatever the reasons, this was a big deal for the mission.

At the beginning, after we got the pharmacy set up, Dr Ken was making the rounds to see if there were any issues or hurdles.  Let him know that we were set and ready and he responded, I knew that you would have it covered.  It was a great shot of confidence for the day to know that he trusted the team and didn't need to worry about pharmacy issues.

The weather was dry (well, no rain and muggy) and the sun was shining so the turnout was expected to be better today, and it was!  Chief complaints were similar to the first day, aches and pains, so lots of NSAIDs and vitamins.  Since this area was more agricultural, there was a greater need for allergy meds as well...we even ran out of our Benadryl 95% through the patient load.  It was heartbreaking to have a couple Rx's at the end that we were unable to provide for.  I brought my bottle of Clobex just in case we ran into a dermatological case that could use a steroid to knock down a flare, and sure enough, we had a 30-something gentleman that presented with some bad eczema flare ups.  Talked with Dr. Ken on the treatment options and mentioned the Clobex.  He okayed using it on the worst section that was on his arm, so I applied it and sent him on the way with lotion and a mid-potency steroid for the ongoing treatment.  We had a man that wanted us to pray for him, so as soon as the translator finished explaining the medicines given, the man, the translator, of of the ladies on the pharmacy team and I all prayed over this man and for the medicines to work on his ailments.  All in all, the medical team served 133 people, vision served 85 (they got a bit backed up from the older population today presenting with more cataracts and other eye issues that made the machine that reads the prescription needed harder to use), and 44 dental patients, including two soldiers that came to check out what was going on.  It was funny, but you could sense the tension when they first arrived, but they were toured around and were pleased with what was happening.  So much so that they sat down for the dental procedures.  So a resoundingly successful day.

Dr. Ken's 23 year old son, Samuel, is on the mission team with us and seems to have an interest in the dentistry part of the clinic.  At the end of the day, he was beaming!  One of the dentists that he has been working with had him start working on the patients.  His second patient, he got to extract a tooth, and on the next patient she let him shave a tooth down that had fractured.  He was quite jazzed to get the opportunity and Dad was proud of him for taking it.

We got everything turned down and packed up in the evening, with an efficiency that made the mission leaders impressed.  They commented how it is usually everyone standing around waiting on Pharmacy to finish, but not so this trip.  Made me feel good that we working well as a team and exceeding their expectations.  We headed back to the hotel and when we got back Dr. Ken said he was going to head up to the pharmacy to get more allergy meds.  I asked if I could tag along to see the pharmacy operations and experience and he said sure, so we headed off with Samuel joining us.  We get to the pharmacy and purchase the allergy meds, 1,000 pills for 90 bhat (less than $3 US)!

From the pharmacy, we headed down the road to a small supermarket in search of lotion and containers for dispensing the lotion.  As we were walking around the aisles an older lady and her 20-something daughter walk by and the Mom starts to talk about the three round eyes and here was a chance to score a husband.  Well, Dr. Ken jumps into the conversation and you could tell they were not expecting us to know what they were saying.  He was jokingly prospecting out Samuel to the mother.  It was a funny moment and we all had a good laugh.  On the way back to the hotel Doc was talking to Samuel about the dental procedures that he had performed and that he was proud of him for seizing the opportunity.  Then we got talking more about derm and my past.  He asked if there was another area that I wanted to check out tomorrow.  I told him that I really liked the pharmacy side and it married well with my interests and experience, but it was another confidence boost that he felt high enough of my abilities to stretch me out in other areas if I wanted as well.

We got back to the hotel and I caught a quick shower and then it was time to eat.  Guess what we had, rice!  Again...And there was some cabbage dish too.  Not sure if there was a meat dish and I had just arrived too late, but there was talk of an ice cream shop down the road, so I just skipped dinner in hopes of a sundae and a Snicker bar from the 7-eleven.  A group of about 10 of us left for the ice cream shop about 7:30 excited for ice cream-y goodness.  The store was closing at 8pm.  When we got there at 7:40, it was already closed and dark.  So much for signs that advertise the closing times.  Headed back to the 7-Eleven for goodies.  Loaded up and there was a street food vendor selling sausages and some sort of meat balls (chicken versions and pork versions).  One of the Compass folks, with the aid of the Australian that could speak some Thai, decided to try a couple of skewers of the balls.  Cooper would have had such a laughing fit with the whole exchange and all of the ball jokes and innuendos that we were going through over the next several minutes.  He let me try one of each of the meatballs and I have to admit that they were tasty, even with the hot sauce that was added.

Back to the hotel room to sleep...Good day!

Jan 3, 2017

Day 3 of the Clinics

This village was more along the lines of what we were expecting!  After we got off the main road, the road was paved but literally on the edge of the mountain and mostly only a lane and a half.  Up and down, twisty and turning doesn't even begin to describe the path.  Dense vegetation covered both sides and at times even darkened the path with overhead cover.  The road quickly turned to concrete and then degraded to rough pocketed concrete.  It as funny, we ran across a couple of potholes and instead of fixing them, thee was just a blue bag of sand or concrete mix laying in the hole.  There were two times that half of the road surface was eroded out from heavy rains.

After about 45 minutes along this trail we came to the village we were to serve.  It comprised two roads that made a T-intersection with a round about at the T.  About 600 people, 140 houses, and 145 were Christian.  We were told by the pastor there that there was a lot of spirit worship that hindered progress in getting people to accept Christ, people worried that if they followed Christ that the spirits would persecute their family.  We began to setup shop at the church at the end of the town.  About 30 minutes into setting up power went out.  There was some worry that we wouldn't be able to do the dental and vision portions as they require power for the machinery.  The teams attached to those areas finished setting up and then blew up gloves into balloons for the children.  About an hour later power was restored to the village and were able to kick it into high gear.  The makeup of the patients was primarily children and older people, perhaps because of the workday calling the middle aged to jobs.  No derm patients today, but there were a couple of sick kids.  One was a three year old that we tried to give a dose of amoxicillin on site and he threw it up right away.  Had to change course and go to a shot...he was not a fan of ours afterwards, but we sent him home with more medicine and hopefully the fever calmed down.  The medical portion had less takers, perhaps 60, on this day.  Largely a function of the remoteness and isolation of this specific village.

As the day wound down for the medical/pharmacy team, I went over to the dental section and helped out with dental procedures by holding a flashlight to help illuminate the mouth.  By this time of the day the movement of the sun had caused the dental area to lose much of their light, so it was helpful.  Between her patients I went down to another dentist and watched a tooth extraction, that was a sight.  Finished lighting one last dental patient and then headed out of town about 0.6km to a small waterfall.  Took some pics and headed back to town to make sure the vans didn't leave without me.  On the way out of town, we stopped at the village coffee roasting business.  Apparently coffee is a major crop in this area.  We toured around and then loaded up on some freshly ground coffee before heading out.  An hour drive back to the hotel.  It was 5pm and I took a shower, got dressed for dinner, and then laid down...that was all she wrote.  I missed dinner and another failed attempt at the ice cream store.  Oh well, 12 hours of sleep was needed more!

On the team debrief it was mentioned by the Mission Leadership that the government officials that had visited made mention of the fact that we were all either wearing black or had a black ribbon pinned to our shirts (in respect for the recently deceased Thai King).  They appreciated the gesture and said that it showed our love for Thailand and its people.  Overall the Clinics ran smoothly and when flexibility was needed it was there and appreciated.  We had experienced a wide cross section of tribes and physical locations and hopefully helped those that we came into contact with.

Jan 4, 2017

The drive back to Chaing Mai

We got up and ate breakfast at the hotel then packed up and headed to the construction site to see their progress and pray with some of the church members there.  After that we loaded up and set off on the 7 hour drive back to Chaing Mai.  Just a long uneventful drive but took in the unique scenery.  Got back to the college and unloaded the vehicles, ate dinner, and then off to bed.

Jan 5, 2017

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Sucked Back Into My Grief Vortex

My grief journey seemed to be stabilizing…I literally went through all the ‘normal’ steps, processes, and feelings again, 30 years after the event, as though I was going through it the first time.  I have mentioned how I stuffed it down, was not able (or willing) to process or adequately deal with it in real time.  Then 30 years go by, a couple of dreams bring the wound to the forefront, and BAM! I am in the thick of it.  In addition to ‘normal’ grieving moments, I also engaged two counselors to help get me through the pain.  One was a more traditional talk-therapy style and the other utilized a more deliberate methodology of EMDR (which is firmly rooted in the PTSD recovery space).  The EMDR seemed better of the two.  As I said, I went through steps and stages.  Things settled down.  Time elapsed between thoughts of Jen, increasing from minutes to hours to days.  I felt that I was recovering.  Not so much a problem solved, but was accepting that the world was different now and that was the world that I live in.  A little over a year has transpired.

Then the dreams began anew…A couple weeks ago, I am dreaming that Tom (one of my best friends), my Dad, and I, are at a Kansas City Royals game.  It is a very different stadium layout than the actual Kaufmann stadium, and very cool.  We have access to some ‘VIP’ areas for some reason and are popping all around the ball park during the game.  Interestingly, the Royals were losing to the Mets 15-8 at the middle of the ninth inning, but, for some reason, elected not to play the last half inning.  It was a back and forth affair in the early innings, but it just ended.  Somewhat stunned, we left the ball park and were heading into the parking garage, which was a deep cylindrical shaped parking structure that was not well laid out for a mass of people leaving at once.  As we head into the garage to get to our car, I hear a gal bitching in the passenger seat of a car that we are walking by, “Christ, it takes three hours to get out of a parking lot from a game that only lasts two and a half hours.”  I said something snarky out loud, not to her necessarily, but just out loud.  The girl addresses me by name and says, “Just you wait until you have to go through this mess!”  I look over at the car these girls were in and, while not necessarily remembering it, it was familiar.  I looked at the license plate and it too was familiar.  The traffic eases and the car starts to drive off and I recognize the back of Jen’s head, her hair, she’s driving!  I start running after the car and actually catch up to it about half a block down the road.  They invite me to get in for a ride home, which I was in the process of accepting when I woke up.

Some interesting takeaways from the dream were that I never actually saw Jen’s face, but knew it was her.  The car and license plate were recognized as hers, but were not like her real life versions.  I have no idea who was actually in the passenger seat.  And most surprising for me, there was not this overpowering sense of sadness, loss.  I can remember puzzlement, and some desperation in catching up to her, wanting to tell her something so badly.  But not grief, as it were.

So, I let it simmer a while.  Not sure what to do with it.  It has been a little while since I had thought of her consciously, a few days at least.  No more frequently than the couple months proceeding the dream.  So why (or how) does she appear, and in a cameo role?  Like I said, it was more puzzling than anything.  Talking through it with a friend, the possibility was offered that my mind was starting to set her free.  That I was okay with (or least accepting of) reality.  My first thought was maybe true.  However, something with that explanation didn’t seem to explain my feelings either.  I was very determined to catch up to the car.  Something not complete…

A few days after this, another dream occurs.  This time Jen is not in it, but is still a central character.  A father figure of Jen’s comes over to my house.  For some reason, I know it is not her father, but filling the role of a father nonetheless (later noodling in my head produces the possibility of it being God).  He is talking about how good Jen is, how it is going to take a person of significant moral character and purity to interact with her, in any way.  I find myself trying to give examples of how I am a quality person, composed of goodness (or at least good actions and motives).  It is a very bizarre verbal dance where neither of us are saying exactly what we are explicitly talking about, just dancing around each others’ labyrinth of language.  Later there is a large group of us going out to an amusement park.  There are many of my own friends and family as well as Jennifer’s friends and family.  I locate a (somewhat) distant cousin of hers.  Not sure how I know this information, but I stop him as we are entering the entrance gates.  I ask him to relay a message to Jen for me.  He declines.  I beg!  Please, I need to speak to her!  He is waffling.  He is not sure if this is something that he should be involved with.  I get the sense that he believes that the Father-Figure would not be pleased.  At least ask her to call me!  Please?!  I get a begrudging okay, the kind that you agree to when you just want someone to leave you alone, but may not be all that willing to follow through with.  I wake up.

What the hell?!?!  What am I so convinced that I need to talk to her about?  It is not a consciously known question or conversation.  I was supposed to be on the healing side of this event.

I start to look up some webpages on contacting deceased people, through dreams, through spirit guides, through any means.  I know that I want to talk to her…Why is a bit more nebulous.  I read through many webpages on how to connect, cross-over, invoke the spirits of loved ones.  I figure I will give it a try.  One of the recurring themes seems similar to meditation, right before going to sleep.  Get comfortable and relaxed.  Visualize the person that you want to contact.  Invite them to come to you in the dream.  Not a summoning, by any means, but a call out to them saying that you wish to talk, to see them, that it will be welcomed and wanted.  So, I start this process…Jen, please come into my dreams tonight.  I really want to talk to you.

AARGHHH!  I awake the next morning, frustrated!  I spent what felt like two to three hours on a park bench, talking to Jennifer Aniston.  While normally this might not be an unwelcomed task, it missed the mark this go around.  It felt like Jen was giggling in the background too.  (Jennifer Aniston is quite chatty if you ever run into her in your dreams.)  Very funny, Ha Ha Ha.

The next day, I spend more time reading pages on how to connect with the spirit world.  More of the same directions, very mediation-like.  Run across one medium that suggested a “Fake-It-Til-You-Make-It” approach is a viable option too.  Great.  So not only am I going batshit crazy, I plan on faking batshit crazy until I can achieve batshit crazy.  Wonderful.  But I still try.

The next night arrives.  I get comfortable in bed.  Try to slow my body processes down.  Ask Jen (Anderson specifically) to join me.  I want to talk to her.  I lay there, still, eyes closed.  I visualize myself leaving my body, floating near the ceiling looking down at myself.  I takes a while to pull off, but I get there.  Then slowly, rising through the roof, outside the house, floating upwards while watching downward, concentrating on the home below getting smaller and smaller.  I reach a point that I would describe as low-Earth orbit.  I see the land below, I am just floating there.  I have expended considerable energy getting here.  Is it just wishful thinking?  Am I just imagining?  Then slowly, I turn.  Not upwards, and in no direction that I can explain.  I am no longer in control, just a passenger.  The change of direction feels like a Rubix cube being turned to solve.  The Earth is not ‘below’ me any longer, but I sense that I am further away from it in some regard.  I get the sense that I am speeding up, but have no concept of where I am, or where I am going.  The next thing that I notice is that I am at a building site, not of a building, per se, but more like the edge of a city that is completely under construction.  Not sure how I transitioned from floating in ‘space’ to this place, with a light brown dirt ground.  I see construction activities all around, in various phases of completeness.  Most noticeable, as I am on the outskirts of this ‘city’, is the concrete footers that have been poured, for what I assume to be meant to be a city wall. There are lots of people buzzing about, doing their work.  I ask, where am I.  The question is met with smiles, sincere, but not exactly an answer.  Like I should know, bless my heart.  While entry into the ‘city’ is not specifically prevented by the construction, the footer tops are barely above ground, I look for a more defined entrance.  As I walk through the gates I ask again, what is going on?  Someone answers that this is heaven.  That it is being built.  As souls arrive, they represent another stone towards the completion of the majestic city.  (As a side note, considering the number of people that have passed in human history and the completion level of the city’s construction, it will be quite a while before Armageddon arrives…assuming the city needs to be complete as the kick off point for the End of Days.)  I continue to walk through the low, partially formed gates, down this entrance avenue.  More people buzzing about, tending to their tasks.  I look forward down the road, and there is Jen standing there with a startled look on her face.  She smiles and starts towards me, calling my name.  The tone sounds a little surprised, but more so excited and glad to see me.  She reaches out and grabs my hand, as if to drag me around and show me the sites.  As her hand grasps mine, I feel an immense, incredible energy.  Not like lightning or electricity, not sharp or buzzing, but warm, inviting, enveloping…pure.  It looked like a small, slow-motion explosion where she grabbed my hand, but with no harmful explosion-like effects.  It startles me!  I was not expecting this feeling, and I draw back, unsure if this energy will harm or consume me.  Very surprised.  The surprised feeling is so great that it shocks me back to being awake.  SHIT!  Gone…

So, I lie here with so many more questions.  Did I make all of this up?  Was my mind just exploring a fantasy, vividly?  Did I want this so much that I made it occur?  Supplemented with too many accounts from others that I have read about.  Did these stories blend together to create the vision that I just witnessed/conjured?  I am not aware of, and do not think that, I was exposed to any notions of heaven being under construction prior to this.  No specific recollection of explosions when you touch a spirit.  And the transition from floating in near-space to what followed was like nothing that I can remember in stories of heavenly journeys.  (It was super cool nonetheless.  The only thing that I can guess towards would be the visualization of interacting with a fourth-dimension.  How my mind could not process the experience in a way that made sense, but the extra-dimensional movement was still occurring.)

On the flip side of the coin, while suspending all that I know to be real and true…What if the experience was real?  What if the ability to separate the conscious from the physical body could (did) occur?  Did I really get to travel via an additional dimension to Heaven?  Did I really encounter Jen?  Did I freak her out, or disappoint her, by exiting so abruptly?  Does she think that I fear her, or heaven, or the journey?  Was I even ‘allowed’ to make this type of journey?  Am I in trouble for it?  Is she?  Will this make further contact harder?

And stepping back, looking at the grander scheme of things, what does this do for my mental health or grief journey?  I find myself writing this down, in hopes of getting it out off my head for one, but more so because I don’t feel that I can discuss it with anyone.  Friends that know what I have been going through in the past year are wonderfully accepting, but the experience has been progressive towards healing and acceptance.  Does their patience have a limit, and have I officially crossed it by regressing into the grief cycle again?  Bringing in new folks to hear of the story feels laborious, plus all the standard hurdles of this happened 30+ years ago.  Sheesh, Get over it!  At what point does everyone say enough is enough?  When does Tammy’s tolerance cease???  It feels very isolating.  I want to tell the story!  (Or is it more correct to say that I want a story that can be told?)  There are some very cool experiences within.  But is it all just fiction…with a plotline of grief and not being able to overcome it?  Why am I so axle-wrapped on this???  I know that the accident happened.  I know that cannot change.  I have a good life, why do I want to fuck it up with this frivolous fantasy?  Why can’t I let it go?  Hell, I don’t even know what it is that I want to talk to Jen about.  And would it even change anything?  Why does she keep reappearing in my dreams?  Why will my mind not just put it to rest and get on with existing???  I feel stuck…stupid…crazy…and in limbo.  If I am going to go insane, then let’s just do it!  Why the constant picking at the scab?  Just go batty and enjoy craziness!  Or fucking heal and get on with it…Enjoy the wonderful life that I find myself blessed with!  Why must I subject myself to torture…repeatedly…willingly?

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End of a Chapter

Looking back at the totality of Jennifer’s accident, death, and ultimately my grieving process, it is strange that my psyche knew that I could not handle the loss and delayed it…albeit 30 years.  While I went through a grieving process in 1988, it (obviously) was not enough.  Perhaps abbreviated to save my sanity.  Whatever the reasons, it seems that my mind (or soul) knew that I was not able to deal with the magnitude of this loss.  So it was delayed for almost 30 years til Jennifer reappeared in my dreams, almost like my mind was saying, “Hey, you don’t have anything important going on right now, so guess what we are going to unpack?”  I have gone through all of the typical steps and milestones associated with dealing with a loss, even with this amount of time in between.  I have been braver, or perhaps more insistent on connecting with her family.  Her sister has been wonderfully accommodating to someone that could have easily (and even justifiably) been answered with guarded hesitation.  Instead, I was met with open arms, and warmly.  And while I would call it a connection more than a relationship, it would have been inappropriate at the time due to our age differences.  I have reached out and shared the journey with friends this time around.  Some that were there at the time, others that have come aboard in the interim. They have walked with me with compassion and grace that I am not sure that I deserve.  They have been there through the tears and anger, listening, offering suggestions and encouragement.  For these, I am eternally grateful!

Now I feel that I have crossed the final milestone of grief, getting through a day without thinking of her.  While I didn’t want to believe that it would happen, a relationship must grow in order to survive.  Despite the connection we had, despite her being a first love for me, the relationship is just stagnant in time.  One can only revisit the memories so many times, while yearning for new experiences constantly, before the soul realizes that the holding pattern is not productive, not healthy.  The first time I made it through a day without thinking of her, I brushed it off.  I was not feeling well and spent most of the time that day in bed.  If I am sleeping for 18 hours in a day, that cannot possibility count, right?  I still did not want to let go!  Several days later, a full Saturday goes by with no thoughts of Jennifer until Sunday morning.  It shocked me.  It was bittersweet.  It was inevitable.  She has not met my wife, my kids.  She cannot hear (and offer advice) on the trials that I go through today.  While I cannot get the vision of her out of my mind, I also cannot imagine her in her mid-40s either.  There was so much potential unrealized in her, but that leads to so many scenarios with which to imagine.  But the world is not benefiting from her being past 16 years old.

So I come to the realization that the relationship is not growing, not developing, and really, not working without her being here. I feel somewhat bad that I have not managed into the transcendence category with her death.  She was so important to me, I truly want the world to know that she was here, but alas the chapter is closing.  The story, my story, is not ending, just moving on, because without growth, the relationship dies.  As long as I pass before my immediate family, I fully expect Jennifer to be the one to welcome me into heaven.  We can hug and catch up.  She can tour me around, and I can introduce her to my wonderful family as they journey up.  I look forward to that day of reconnecting.

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Descendance

I feel myself slipping.  I take medicines to alleviate the spiral down.  I have renewed skills in putting on the happy face…outside.  When I get home, I just want to be in bed.  It is not fair to my family.  It is not me, in the normal sense.  It is not fair or right for so many reasons.  But I cannot stop.

I really wish that I had actually gone through the grief 30 years ago!  So much was changing at that time though, I just could not deal with a devastating loss.  I buried it too well.  Now I feel pathetic for failing to deal with it when I should have, on top of the grief.

I have read so much on death and grieving that new articles that I come across are not new…just rehashes.  People get through it.  It is TOUGH, but they generally manage, emerge on an other side.  Changed, different perhaps, but they emerge.  I am not emerging.

I read stories of people that are able to dream of the person they lost.  I read stories of people that get signs from their loved ones.  Stories of going to medium’s and having the person’s spirit actually communicate with them.  The notion that the longer the time from death, the harder, the more energy it takes to communicate.  I find myself wishing I was haunted.  Was I?  Did I completely miss the signs?  Did Jen put Tammy in my life?  Has it been so long that the connection is now too difficult?  Am I too far down on the list, reaching out to family, or other friends, is more important given the energy needed?  Is it all bullshit from a wanting mind???

How does one achieve a level ‘better’ than 99% of the world’s population and still feel like a failure?  Does everyone feel worse than me?  How do they continue?  How does Joy get strung together long enough to be happiness?  I read that the key is relationships, and not necessarily a multitude, but quality relationships.  Luckily that plays easier to my personality, but what is the point when people die?  One relationship can never (and I do not expect it to) replace another, but the loss of the deeper relationships is so monumental.

Alone…How does someone in a city of 5-6 million, working in a large company, feel alone?  But it is not a recent phenomenon.  I remember feeling alone as a kid growing up.  I was never particularly outgoing, so that never helped.  I was an only child, whose parents went through divorce, and both had to work.  Pre-smartphones and video games.  I played board games by myself.  We moved frequently…starting over in schools, amongst friend groups that already existed.

Some of my most impacting revelations of lonesomeness happened around the same time as Jennifer’s accident.  Leaving my high school graduation ceremony.  Seeing everyone scatter to their different parties and family commitments afterward.  I had a party waiting at the house myself, should have been excited to get going to it, but find myself standing in the parking lot wondering what the fuck?  Alone.  Going to Kansas State after the good friend that I was supposed to room with decided to bail on college the week before starting.  Being reassigned to a room in the basement with no A/C and a farm kid that I had nothing in common with.  Alone.  Going to a movie that first semester, alone.  Then cut off from Jennifer.  No connection to her world.  Too frightened to reach out.

Others feel this lonesomeness.  I have seen it firsthand.  The first time it really appeared to me was that first semester of college.  Walking in between classes, hearing someone call out my name.  Turning to see one of my high school’s cheerleaders coming to talk to me.  Why?  We have never spoken before.  Alone.  Desiring connection to the known, the past, the familiar.  If lonesomeness is so common, and so debilitating, why do we allow it to surface?  Why do we put up with it?

I can never replace the relationship that I had with Jennifer, I get that, but why do I miss it so much?  

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A Precious Light, Extinguished Too Early

(Pardon the length, brevity is not in my nature and this has been bottled far too long.)

The Notification

I was going to school at Kansas State, but that day had returned to Topeka to visit friends.  I rolled into my parents’ house about 3am on the 18th of October and went in to squeeze my mother’s foot, as was the custom to let them know I was home.  She came to, almost in a panic…Where had I been?  What did I know?  Am I okay?  They had been trying to reach me at school and at any friends that they knew the phone number for (well before the constant access allowed by cell phones).  I was half-baked still.  I knew nothing.  And about what?

Jennifer had died in a car accident that morning…

(Writing this sentence still brings uncontrolled tears to my eyes.)

What???  How?  Wait a minute…How do they know?  How could they know?  Did they even know Jennifer?  She went to High School on the other side of town!  This has to be mistake!  I’m in the wrong house.  I’m high.  It can’t be.  Someone else that they are thinking about!  They heard it wrong!  Jennifer is a common name!  Anderson is a common name!  NO!  Nooo!  No.

Jennifer Anderson was killed in a single vehicle accident on the morning of Oct 17, 1988 on her way to school.  She was a very close and dear friend, and if I am being honest, I loved her.  Being a teenager at the time, unable to competently deal with the devastation of the loss, I handled it poorly.  Sure, there was the initial shock.  I didn’t eat for three days.  Sleep was only NyQuil induced.  I went from smoking one or two cigarettes a day to a pack a day overnight.  I cried, and for so long.  I didn’t go back to K-State for at least 3 weeks.  Left alone…Left behind.  I was angry!  Betrayed by God!  My friends either didn’t understand the degree of our connection (and loss) or themselves were poorly equipped to help, or both.  I was numb, present but not functionally aware.  (I remember a girl approaching me at the funeral, throwing her arms around me and saying, “Oh Thad, I am so sorry!”  When she left us, my mom asked who it was and I didn’t know!  Couldn’t remember.  Completely dazed.)  But mostly, I stuffed it down, deep, so that I wouldn’t have to fully bear the loss.  Eventually, it seemed to work.  Life went on.  The holidays.  New school.  New girlfriend, that later became my wife.  Time passed and the daily reminder faded.

Fast forward 30 years, this past summer, I have two very vivid dreams…with Jennifer in them.  Why now?  In the first, she was very much present, but in more of a supporting actress role and not the focus of the story.  Could have been any number of people.  A few weeks later…BAMMM!  If it didn’t get my attention the first time, well this one was determined to.  I was laying down with a royal blue, shag afghan over me.  She was snuggled up with me, on top of the afghan, head resting on my leg.  We were talking.  We were close and comfortable and relaxed…and not real.

WTF?!?

Why now?  What triggered this?  What’s wrong with me?  All unanswered questions, but suddenly Jennifer was back in my thoughts, daily, hourly, all the time.

(Some details may be subject to memory fog caused by 30+ years of time…but my therapist thinks that it would be helpful to tell the story.  Problem is…30 years!  Very few of my friends from that time knew Jennifer, and have scattered into varying degrees of ‘lost contact’ status.  People that know me today, well, let’s face facts, it is not normal to be blubbering over something that happened that long ago.  Normal people process, adapt, then restore.  That leaves my still raw, unbelievable grief and the five or so folks that will stumble across this.  PLEASE!  Use this as an example of what not to do when grieving the loss of a loved one.  The process is inescapable.)

How We Met

Junior Achievement (JA) is an evening program that assembles high school students in a city to create and run a small business, thereby teaching entrepreneurship and business skills.  My parents had purchased a business outside of Topeka and we moved down earlier in the year.  I attended Washburn Rural HS just outside of Topeka, KS, which coming from a larger city was a bit of a culture shock.  JA was going to be an opportunity to merge interests in business (my father used to call me Alex P Keaton, from the Family Ties show, if anyone is old enough to remember that gem) and be an opportunity to meet kids from other schools in the Topeka area.  This is where I met Jennifer, in the Fall semester of 1986, above the Wolfe Camera Shop, in downtown Topeka.

I must admit, at first, there was nothing indicating how my life was going to change over the coming months.  Just the faces of 20-25 kids that were all strangers to me.  Being new to the program and the group (many were returning JA’ers), not sure what I was getting into, and seeing that the leader position was, in essence, a popularity contest (with perhaps a bit of merit on the side), I knew that I did not want to run for the President position of the company that we were tasked to form.  However, a function VP, where the adult leaders interviewed and appointed these, seemed like it was going to be my best path.  I secured one of the four or five VP roles.  One of Jennifer’s debate or forensics friends (David, I think was his name) was appointed to one of these roles as well.  This was the connection that allowed us to meet.  At first, Jennifer was just another girl in the room…from a different high school, a couple years younger than me, cute (definitely), blonde, and maybe slightly goofy, but in a fun to be around way.  She loved to talk and laugh, playfully tease and torment, and cause laughter.  At first, my attention was directed at another one of the VP students that had piqued my romantic interest.  Because of this, Jennifer was initially just someone that hung out with David and a lot of noise was always around, talking and laughing.  But Jennifer had an energy about her that drew you in, not only of fun and laughter, but a strong radiance of being genuine, curious, honest, pure (a definite weakness/attraction for me), and positive.  When you talked with her, you could tell she was genuinely interested in you and what was going on.  As the weekly meetings went by, the laughter, fun, and her energy became too irresistible to not notice, and I wanted in.  We began talking during these JA meetings and became friends.  I wanted to be more than that, but the combination of teenage insecurity (mine) and the profession that her parents did not let her date yet, shut those ideas down.

I cannot remember how I got her phone number.  It could have been at the end of the program, as it wound down, to be able to stay in contact.  A fading memory seems to think it was a conversation during JA that was needing to continue and before we were going to meet for JA next week.  We began talking on the phone, and for hours on end.  The beauty of our friendship was that our social circles did not really intersect as much as they just touched at the point of each of us.  She went to a different high school than me, on the other side of town even.  The activities that she was involved with (debate and forensics) were not in my wheelhouse.  JA was our only commonality.  Over the weeks and months, we would be on the phone talking about our dreams, problems, successes, fears, hurts, and insecurities.  We were like each other’s therapists.  Since our social circles did not intersect, we did not have to concern ourselves with who would find out about what we were saying or feeling.  Judgement never crept in, using each other as a sounding board for solutions, and we did not hold back from each other…We were real with our feelings about what was happening in our lives, and could be because it wouldn’t come back and bite us in the ass (accidentally or otherwise).  She had ambition, confidence, determination, and lofty goals.  She said that she wanted to be President…Actually, I think it is more correct to say that she told me that she was going to be the first woman President.  Not only was she confident in this, I believed it too.  We both seriously believed that it would happen.

We were also opposites in the crowds we associated with.  I ran with a group that was a little more dangerous/lawless, and that partied a bit more.  As I would talk through situations and scenarios, Jennifer was able to expertly walk that fine line of purity and goodness, understanding without being condemning.  She would call me on my shit without being accusatory.  She would continue to listen and offer her opinions without being ‘judge-y’.  I am not sure how she pulled it off, but she would disagree with my activities without making me feel lectured to, and I would seriously listen and consider the arguments that she was presenting (must have been her abilities in debate).  And it wasn’t the case of just disapproving and then turning a blind eye!  Some things to this day are still off limits, because she insisted.

Other times our desires to do something (typically, more lawful) were in sync.  We had talked at length about going skydiving.  We decided that we were both fascinated, but scared, of the idea and ultimately talked ourselves into going together once she turned 18.  It was one of those conversations that changed me, but not until after she was gone.  It made me realize that people usually talk about doing something and then time passes with the 'great activity' left perpetually undone.  (I finally jumped in 1994, twice, once for each of us.  In a way, I had to.  To honor her memory, our plans, but mostly to prove that I was not going to fall into the ‘always talking about it’ trap.)  I couldn’t shock her with my deviance, or at least she never let on that it was a shock, all while letting me know her strong opinions on the activities that were not ‘approved’.  She never ran away in disgust…maybe she felt that she could fix me.

Over all those hours of talking, we became very close.  I considered her one of my best friends.  This was an odd dynamic within my existing social circle.  Here is this girl that I talk about when around my ‘regular’ friends, even to the point of declaring her a best friend.  The notion that she had somehow weaseled in and claimed this title from the two or three that felt this label was obviously theirs was…interesting.  It varied from dismissive to challenged, even reaching a point of injuring some of the connections within my ‘regular’ friends group.  I’ll admit, it was self-inflicted and sometimes even unconscious, like when I went to New York City and the only souvenir that I brought back was for her, a teddy bear from the Hard Rock Café.  I couldn’t explain it fully to them, that would require the depth of honesty that I had with Jennifer, and that developed from not having to worry about the ramifications and judgments that typically come with uncensored honesty with each other.  Not only did Jennifer accept me as-is, but she knew more about me and at a deeper level than they did.  Resentment and curiosity were typical anytime I talked about her, but at the same time, these friends could also sense that I was star-struck.

Now, thinking back to those days, I am sure that she too knew that I wanted to become more than friends well before I ever mustered the courage to bring up the subject directly.  Eventually, I did.  Do you want to go out?  On a date?  With me?  Memory gets foggy here.  I have to believe that the invitation was originally rebuffed.  “My parents, my dad, does not let me date yet.”  Was that true?  Was that even the real (or only) reason?  Not sure how I wore her down, or if she presented it to her parents as going out with friends, but eventually we were on.  I cannot remember where we went, or what we did (bowling perhaps).  It was all basically innocent.  I was giddy.  However, the conversation the next night turned darker, to something about her folks and then came the dreaded, “I just want to be friends.”

Devastation.

Oddly, I gave up.  Fine Jennifer.  I get it.  Catch ya on the flip side.

She was insistent that it wasn’t a blow off.  She said that she really did want to continue the relationship.

Whatever.  I know what those words are code for.  It’s over, good bye.  I get it.  You are trying to be nice, spare my feelings.  Thank you.  Fine.

Really!  It is not that way!  I will call you later she insisted.

I didn’t believe her, but whatever.  I wanted off the phone!  To hide my hurt, my rejection, and now my embarrassment.  At least I had tried, but it still hurt.

Two days later she called back…“See, you are not getting rid of me that easily.”  Oh, I was hooked.  Our conversations on the phone continued for hours on end, picking up where they had left off.  But in the back of my mind, the door was still open.  It was at this point that I felt like this is the girl that I will marry someday.  I know that is audacious.  It presumes that she would go along with it, and everything that would need to happen just so, would flow as perfectly as it would need to.  (Where is she going to college?  What happens if it is a different school than me?  Was it the parents not allowing to date the real reason, or was she?  What about other guys that she would meet?)  But in my mind, we would figure it out.  You hear stories of couples that meet and just know that this is the person that they will marry.  It could happen…Problem is, the stories you hear are only the success stories.

Our conversations continued through the end of my high school.  Somehow, she had gotten to me, a silver framed poem for graduation, A Mile with Me, by Henry van Dyke.  (I still have it, tucked away in some box that has been moved from house to house to house.  What I don’t have are pictures!  Remember, these are the days before cell phones and selfies.)  I vaguely remember her coming to my graduation party.  She may have brought it during that event, sounds more plausible than mailing it.  As summer continued and plans for college developed (and I got a bit wilder in my escapades), contact dwindled.  When college began, it dwindled more.  I know some of the reason was to preserve my heart.  It was still hers.

Then Oct 17, 1988.  Driving down a gravel road on the way to pick up a friend for school, Jennifer lost control and went into the bar ditch beside the road.  There was a tree.  Unfortunately, due to the angle of the car in the ditch and the position of the tree, instead of starting at the front bumper, contact began at the windshield and peeled back the driver’s side.  She was declared dead 17 minutes later.  The rescue helicopter was in route!  I have pictured the scene in my mind thousands of times…On this side of being late for school, driving a little too fast on a gravel road.  I can envision a bunny or squirrel popping out in front of her.  Swerve to miss.  Control lost.  Life changed.  I remember reading the newspaper the next day and there was the comment that drugs and alcohol were not factors in the accident.  I was so PISSED!  How wrong to even say.  She would never!  But it was standard text.  The writer did not know her.  Normal questions to be answered in an investigation.  But still, so pissed!

When her accident occurred, then the cursed side of the structure of our relationship became so evident.  I felt so completely cut off from her world.  I did not know who to contact or how.  The internet was not available to offer suggestions, ideas, and examples of people that have navigated through it.  I was young and clueless.  I so desperately wanted to call her parents, but would always chicken out at some point while dialing the number.  Their daughter had just been stolen from them, how could this blubbering teenager that they did not know (and maybe met once) be of any comfort or use?  I couldn’t wrap my head around what was happening and where help could be offered to them.  I kick myself for not offering to be a pallbearer and it honestly did not even cross my mind until after the funeral that this could be a way to participate (again, no real experience to draw upon).  I remember wanting to ask for the Hard Rock teddy bear that I had given her, but couldn’t bring myself to even ask a grieving parent for any remaining part of their child.  The detachment was one of the reasons that I just buried the feelings and tried to move on.  Looking back now, this had to (unknowingly at the time) be one of the top reasons for trying to bury it.

Today-ish

For some unexplained reason, I have felt the draw to return to visit Jennifer’s grave.  So I find myself, exactly 30 years later, in Topeka, KS.  I am not sure what I was expecting to happen, the draw was more concentrated on the journey rather than the destination (my Dad would be so proud).  The weather in DFW has been very wet, rainy, and at minimum dark and cloudy for the past few weeks.  Here at the grave, the temperature is brisk, but the day is sunny!  I simply stand in the sunshine for hours.  Flowers that I left back in July remain, equally dead.  Heartbreaking.  I lay a blanket over Jennifer’s grave site.  I want to crawl inside the grave myself.  I sit down to read Comfort: A Journey Through Grief, a book about the author’s journey through the grief of suddenly losing her 5-year-old daughter.  It is refreshing to see the author say the exact same thing over and over in the book.  I can too easily relate to that need to repeat, and the burden of those that mistakenly inquire only to hear the same thing again.  The self-consciousness that you feel crazy in this verbal transaction, but the compelling need to repeat anyway.  I finish the book and start another.  It is peaceful, quiet…lonely.

Later, I go to Seaman High School to see if they have any of the old yearbooks.  I am desperate for photos.  Jennifer’s image is blurring in my mind from the passage of time.  They do, and I am able to photograph them.  They are black and white, 1980’s layout quality (heavily pixelated), but focus in my mind’s eye has sharpened.  I return to the grave site.  The flowers that I brought today are already withering from lack of water.  I continue to read until near dark.  Say good-bye, hoping that this somehow presents closure, but it doesn’t.  Memories, conversations, laughter, dreams, all surface each day still.  How does healing occur?  The wound does not scar.

Going Forward (with a historical sidebar)

Typically, overwhelming feelings will cause me even less sleep.  I can literally feel myself slipping into a darkness, I liken to a black fog.  The components of my turbulence rattle around in my head…at a constant velocity.  Writing usually gets the emotions out of my head, sometimes I can even stumble on an answer through the process.  Sometimes I even post the rantings.  Not sure why, as I don’t publicize the postings, seeking readers.  Just my nuggets, perhaps a prize left for someone to discover on a trip down their internet rabbit hole.  This one has been longer, deeper, and darker than episodes in the past.  At the strong encouragement of a couple friends that I have let into this current drama, I have gone back to see a therapist.  I feel silly walking in to talk about events of so long ago.  I declare that I must be batshit crazy.  As I describe the dumpster fire, I can tell the therapist is stumped.  There are normal paths for grieving, but this?  I tell the story over a couple sessions.  Go through a box of Kleenex.  I need an answer, more importantly a solution.  At least a roadmap.  That is not going to happen.

Verbally, I go forward from the time of the accident.  Looking at my life, Jennifer’s death completely changed my trajectory (and for the better).  Do I feel guilt from this?  In January of 1989, I had recently blown the engine in my car, was sitting in my parents’ house in Topeka, sulking.  Another great friend from the Kansas City area called and wanted me to come up and we would hang out.  Couldn’t.  Felt too sad, had no car available, wasn’t in the mood.  “Horseshit!  I’m coming to get you.”  He came to Topeka and brought me back to KC.  We hung out at his girlfriend’s house and it was here that I met Tammy.  We dated, married, have a family, a pretty awesome life.  None of this would have happened without the accident.  I wouldn’t have been down in the dumps.  I would have been at K-State, another 1.5 hours away from KC.  The round trip to come get me would have been close to 8 hours, if he could have even tracked me down.  Tammy, the woman I adore (Love is not either-or, it is infinite.  Similar to love for your children.  You do not stop loving the first one when the second comes along.), kiddos that I don’t just love, but really like and enjoy being a father to.  Bumps and struggles along the way, sure, but a pretty kick-ass situation.  This silver lining, I try to hide.  I am very reluctant to verbalize it.  If I don’t talk about it, then the connection is not real, but even Tammy has recognized this truism.  I truly believe that there is no way that my life falls into this perfect place without the accident.  WTF?  Is this God’s idea of trying to make up for the accident?  Did Jennifer have to die in order for me to have a kick-ass life?  Nonsense!  I am not that important.  I am okay with that too (not being that important).  Am I looking for a why, where there is none?  These questions of what-if keep rattling around in my head…

During the last therapy session, a writing assignment is given.  Goodie!  I like writing.  Talking about the writing task, the therapist (thinking aloud) focuses on the lack of closure, the relationship lost, and offers the idea of writing the story of what life looks like without the accident.  Ohhh!  I am intrigued.  What could have been?  As I roll this idea around in my head though, I sense that this exercise will go sideways fast.  In my ‘perfect’ (or delusional) scenario, am I doing anything other than swapping Tammy’s name for Jennifer’s?  The kids would be different…would I like them as much (love would be there of course, but liking them)?  Would there be more?  Less?  And then what about the significant number of ways that a non-accident reality could have gone sideways, down a pathway that was not perfect to me?  If I am being honest, while the world would be brighter (and better) with Jennifer alive and in it, there are so many ways that ‘we’ might not be 'we'.  One very narrow path for success and so many other less than ideal, even less than today, outcomes.  Why would I want to do this to myself?  Sure, I could have adjusted to a different path that could have had just an equally awesome outcome (perhaps just delayed a little) as my existing life…things work out.  If there are so many (personal) reasons the alternate reality would be bad for me, why do I keep wondering what-if the accident didn’t happen.  It seems beyond an intellectual curiosity.

I finally settle on the fact that I do not want to go down this path of what-if anymore, as there are too many negative outcomes compared to my perfection scenario, and I do not want to tarnish my memories.  Besides, none of these scenarios can happen, the accident made sure of it.  Why does my heart still break at the realization?

Now What

Well, stuffing the emotions down deep has not yielded good outcomes.  Now what can I do.  Can I ever get over it?  Is it even ‘right’ to try to reach that point?  The book that I am currently reading Life After Loss, suggests that in the grief journey, people that reach the other side either reach a point of restoration or transcendence.  Neither is better than the other, not good nor bad, just different (and unique to each grief journey).  Restoration suggests that life is a journey from point A to point B, along a straight line.  Loss and grief occur and knock you off this linear path (visually, placing a large dip along the line).  You grieve, adjust, and continue.  The grief event even changes you during the time in the dip.  As you work through the grief, you emerge on the other side of the grief valley placed in your path, continuing your former personality.  The loss is always there, but after working through it those core personality beliefs and values remain static.

In the transcendence model, the same line of life exists, as does the grief dip or valley.  But the experience changes you, your fundamental personality, your beliefs and values.  At the end, you emerge on the other side with the line continuing, albeit at a slightly higher level (I suppose it could also be at a lower level if negative personality changes occur).  The loss has foundationally changed your personality.

I am willfully trying for the transcendence outcome.  Not because it is better or somehow more noble.  I like the idea that this experience could somehow adjust my beliefs and thinking.  Jennifer was an incredible light and loved her friends (and even people generally) with such force and power.  We are all flawed, I more than most.  People are not my area of expertise.  I truly want this journey to adjust my relationship to people and the world.  The world lost something special with Jennifer’s accident!  While I will never fully be able to brighten the world as she could have, if I can harness a little bit of her within my personality, the world can be a touch bit brighter.  Not to say that this is what she would have wanted, but instead for me to show the world that it was better when she was here.  If I can increase the brightness just a little, then there will always be a tangible reminder that she was here.  Is missed.  Is loved.

Thanks (epilogue)

While my journey towards a tolerable resolution continues, there are those around my that deserve my eternal thanks for support and listening, guiding this moron through these situations not always understanding, but supporting and loving on me far more than I likely deserve.

• Tammy - My ride or die!  For loving me with all my baggage.  For being patient and understanding.  For realizing that love is not an either-or and being secure with the fact that I love you.  Your wisdom teaches me everyday and your wholesomeness makes me smile equally as often.
• Brett - From the time you said "Horseshit!  I'm coming to get you", changing my life's path for the better, to today, as you listen to me cry because you knew me the first time it unfolded.
• Jennifer's Family (Dallas) - For being a sweetheart and gentle with someone that cared for Jennifer when I reached out, even if it took so long.  This could have been a tough conversation to have.  I never wanted to cause more sorrow and pain from asking to join the conversation.  Being gracious to someone so late to the party has been a blessing.
• Rob - For understanding and being a human before a boss.
• Everyone else that has had to endure me talking about something that happened so long ago!  Thanks for letting me relive an important and special time from so long ago.  Thanks for dropping the judgement (on my sanity in particular) at the door, even if you want to pick it back up on the way out.

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