Baampa

Ben calls me Baampa now. It is an “A” sound (like in CAT) and definitely not either Maama (his previous name for me)  or Bompa.  I know that it is probably wishful thinking on my part that he is doing that because he is combining us a little bit into one?  Wouldn’t that make it easier to make sure he remembers “Bompa”?

I was thinking last week that when Bill and I married the two of us became one - which is what God intends.  So does that mean that now I am just 1/2?  No – I really do know better than that.  I am still one person who will always carry a wonderful person with me in my heart and my memories.  Being married to Bill made me a better person and now I have to figure out what I am supposed to do by myself. I know God has a plan...I just haven’t seen it yet, but I will.  And I think Ben is helping remind me that I am still complete and in his eyes still represent his Bompa too.

For Christmas I am going to make books about Bompa for each of the younger 3 Grandkids.  The older ones have so many memories of him, but the younger ones may need a little help.  I am looking through pictures for each of them with their Grampa.  He will remain part of our lives forever.

My Birthday

Today is my first birthday without you, Dad.  I miss you like crazy.  I miss hearing you say, "Thank goodness you weren't twins."  Or, "Kids are expensive pets."

Today, I am leaning on God's word, which tells me exactly where you are.  Last night there was the most beautiful sunset - - one of the prettiest I have ever seen - - and I couldn't help but think of you and what you must be seeing in heaven.

Today, out of the gajillion people that I could have been born to, I am thankful that I was born into our family.

Love you, Dad!

Memorial Day

Well, it's Memorial Day weekend already.  Lots of people heading out camping.  We used to camp with the horses (and get rained on) just about every year.  Good memories.
Mom, Nathan and I went to Norway Cemetery today to tend to the graves of my grandma & grandpa, my great-grandma and great-grandpa AND my great-great grandma & great-great grandpa.  It was something Dad took pride in doing every year, so it was nice to continue the tradition for him this year.  Gave us time to think about what a beautiful reunion it must have been in heaven.  We remember my dad though laughter, through tears.

It's hard to imagine, but just one year ago my dad and mom went to the cemetery together.  This year, he is gone.  What a difference a year can make.  One year ago this week we lost my grandma.  It was very painful (though I was thrilled for her) because she was so good to me and a very important person in our lives.  I loved her very, very much.  Shortly after Grandma died, my dad was diagnosed.

One year ago, in early June, I had a rummage sale at my house.  I knew something was very, very wrong when dad was unable to change a light bulb.  Just an ordinary light bulb in my garage.  He couldn't turn it.

We continue to figure out our new normal, and appreciate the prayers offered up on our behalf.  It is such a special thing to do for someone ... to lift them up to the Creator of the Universe.

big hole

I am so surprised by this grief process. It hits in such waves and it’s harder than I ever imagined.  I still can’t wrap my mind around Dad being GONE.  Just gone.  He was here, and so much a part of things, every day normal things.  And now the rest of my world is the same old normal, but he isn’t here. Yet I expect that he’ll pop around the corner and say “hellllo.”

Bill was home last weekend, and we had a nice day on Mother’s day.  We spent the day at Mom and Dad’s (I am consciously making sure that I still call it mom and dad’s).  It was a nice day, a family day with everybody else there.  The kind of day that Dad would love.  I had a really hard time that day. There was such a big missing hole. It was the kind of day where Dad would’ve been out saddling a horse for the kids, or chuckling as he watched Madysen playing basketball against her 6’5” brothers. He would’ve gotten a kick out of the kids “helping” mom plant her garden, with little Ben not wanting his bare feet in the dirt. Bill spent time in the garage, sorting Dad’s tools because he promised Dad that he would.  Tools that were Dad’s, and my Grandpa Hob’s. I’m sure that it wasn’t the easiest task for Bill.

 It’s the little things sometimes that really knock me for a loop.  Things like seeing the kind of shoes that he wore, that he called his “go fasts.”  Or taking a blood pressure on a patient with a shirt like his.  Or thinking about trading cars and not being able to just call him and say, what do you think?  And he would say, "put a pencil to paper, do the math."  Seeing Dad’s towing hitch and ball on Jordan’s SUV.  It’s cool, and it means something to Jordan, and I love that.  And yet…Dad should still be here.  And healthy.  And with us.  With his hitch on his Ford pickup pulling a hay wagon. For at least another twenty years. 

We are still a family, and we will be ok, eventually.  Dad would want us to be okay. But it is sure hard when the foundation of your family gets taken away. 

Update from Joan - WHY?

I still find myself questioning why – why Bill, when he was so good and did so much for people.  Just being around him was a great experience, and people always gathered close to talk to him and hear his stories.  He was good in quiet ways too.  I can’t tell you the number of times he stopped and helped someone on the highway who was having car troubles, sometimes paying for gas for them, and never taking money for helping.  We made him really happy last year when we elected to quit exchanging gifts at Christmas and instead adopt a family....he loved that and it kept him smiling for days! Some years Bill and I bought gifts in each of our Grandkids names to put under the angel trees in Sioux Falls.
 

Bill should have had more time on earth, yet I am so happy that he is with God.  It is the ultimate that we all live for.  It is only for me that I wish he was still here.

I am accident prone, and had 3 accidents which potentially could have killed me, and yet I am here....why?  I don’t know why but I am listening.  I am forcing myself into activities where I will meet people and potentially grow in the process.  I think I feel Bill nudging me a bit. 

Constantly Surprising

I am often surprised by this thing we call grief and when it chooses to roar versus growl. 

We went to see my in-laws this weekend.  We haven't been there since Christmas with Dad so sick and Tyler working a lot on the weekends.  It was definitely time, but I still found it to be hard.  I learned it's going to be hard for a while to hear Benny call Arnie "Grandpa."

I almost feel bad saying that, so let me be clear.  Arnie is a great guy:  kind, smart, hard-working and patient with a daughter-in-law who loves to catch & eat fish but hates to unhook them. I can't say enough good things about the guy.

He is a wonderful father-in-law to me, and an amazing Grandpa.    He deserves that term of endearment in an equal amount to my dad.  I hit the dad-in-law jackpot and my kids are SO lucky to have him.  I just wish my kids could have had my dad around longer - that's all, just more time to have two amazing grandpas.

I am learning that you can go a little while and you're ok, and then BAM the tears come like a flood. I am learning to welcome the tears whenever I can.  I really can't allow myself a breakdown at work, and there are times it just isn't ok to look like a complete basket case.  But there are times it's ok to just break down a little.  I hope my kids still miss me three weeks after I am gone. I don't want them to wallow, of course, just like Dad didn't want that for us.  But to be ok now just 3.5 weeks later?  We aren't there yet.

So we put on our big girl boots and do what needs to be done.  We rest on the fact that the Word of God says our dad is in paradise.  We love each other through this.  We appreciate people like Grandpa Arnie Hill who, while maybe bringing attention to a raw spot right now, will play a pivitol, important, priceless role in my kids' lives, and we thank God for all of our blessings.  Sometimes though - grief does roar.

Meaka (From Joan)

Side note from Erin:  For those who don't know, my parents purchased 40 acres in the Black Hills a few years ago with the intention to relocate during 2011-2012.  I have felt extreme guilt over the last 9 months because I so desperately did not want my Mom & Dad to move away.  I even felt slighted by the fact that they wanted to "leave us."  I felt like my kids (and I) would miss out on an awful lot having them 5-6 hours away.  I wish now with every cell in my body that it could have gone the way they wanted it to.

We had decided that when we finally got moved to the Black Hills our days would consist of lots of early morning rides with lunch on the trail, and a nice nap when we got home.  I had not been riding much since my  hangman's break in my neck & my shattered elbow a few years ago, but we both believed that riding in the Hills is much safer because there is no traffic other than an occasional deer, and the horses are not too frisky after hauling someone up and down some hills for awhile.

So anyway - right or wrong that was our plan.

Today would have been one of those days…I would have heard the early morning sound of Bill making coffee and then heading out to get the horses ready.  I would have known that I needed to hurry and pack some lunch, but Bill would take care of the rest.  He always checked the tack on my horse after I saddled the horse he still checked it over anyway, so we just got in the habit of him doing it while I got myself and lunch ready.

Bill had been selling our horses for a long time but he held two of them back to move west with us.  “Lightning” a very trustworthy sorrel gelding, and “Meaka”, his gray mare.  He and Meaka totally understood each other – She was a bit ornery and he liked her.

After Bill was diagnosed, we had some days that were pretty tough.  One was when someone bought our horse trailer that we had worked so hard on, and the other was when the horses were sold.  Bill did his usual thing and found good homes for them – not sure if he made or lost money on those two, but it really didn’t matter anymore.

I am still struggling with the “why” question.  I am trying to figure out what good I need to do here without him.  I keep praying, asking and waiting…

The other day while in Hobby Lobby, some woman walked up to me and said “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have a husband waiting for you would you?”  I just smiled but, the answer is of course – yes, I do.