I have not blogged in a long time. I have had no desire to do anything, let alone write. Life has been pressing down on me. I have been struggling. I have wanted to put words and feelings to paper, but grief and it's expressions can be exhausting. Maybe that's why it has taken me so long. I don't know how many times I've started. Maybe a dozen or so. I write and then I keep correcting, I keep adding, I stumble to find the perfect words that stretch the heart and open the mind and do justice to the subject. I am trying hard to exceed my simple abilities. I am trying to write with great meaning. Today I make my small and humble attempt.
We sat around the campfire, enjoying each other, Glade, my children, and I. We laughed and talked under the stately pines and the soft glowing stars. We watched the time drift by, easy like, with no aprehneshion. We were far away from anything that resembeled tragedy. None of us dreamed of the unthinkable. After the giant pile of wood had turned to dying embers, we went to bed. We slept without a care in the world. We didn't know hearts at home were breaking.
We sat around the campfire, enjoying each other, Glade, my children, and I. We laughed and talked under the stately pines and the soft glowing stars. We watched the time drift by, easy like, with no aprehneshion. We were far away from anything that resembeled tragedy. None of us dreamed of the unthinkable. After the giant pile of wood had turned to dying embers, we went to bed. We slept without a care in the world. We didn't know hearts at home were breaking.
When we woke late the next morning, we ate a leisurly breakfast, packed everything up and pulled onto the road for the long drive home. The day looked pleasant enough. It presented itself decietfully.
As we began the drive we gave instruction to the kids that we would pull off at the sanitation campsight just a few miles down the road. It was an easy place to dump the trailer, easier and lighter to drive empty, or so we thought. Little did we know just how empty we would be as we pulled away from that place. Just before we turned off, we passed a car, a white car. It was blinking and flashing it's lights at us. We saw nothing. We noticed no signs of an emergency looming in front of us. Our minds were light and untroubled. We paid no attention.
It took us 45 minutes to dump. We had to wait in a long line of trailers. The white car hunted for us up and down the road not knowing where we'd gone. We had no idea we were wanted. Some parts of me now wish we could have stayed there, hidden in an obsolete campground, safe from any pain that would soon find us.
When we finished the dumping and pulled back onto the main road we found Kelson sitting in his jeep. Des, Seth, and Haley waited inside with him. They were stopped on the side of the road. We pulled over. Their faces were grim. That's when the white car found us. It pulled in front of us and came to a stop. To my surprise, Gavin and Caroline stepped out.
The sight of them sent my mind into disbelief. I started retracing the past. They had left our camp the night before and traveled home in the dark. I had said goodbye. Gavin had school and tests. He needed to get home earlier than the rest of us. Now here they were, standing in front of us. Why had they driven all the way back? My mind began formulating. This could only mean one thing, a tragedy, or perhaps a death? My mom? I watched Gavin's pale grave face come closer to the window. I waited for him to tell me the bad news, the bad news about my mom, I was fully prepared to hear it. She is 90, she is ready to leave this life. She is battling to get out of this life. Yes, it had to be, so I waited for him to tell me she had died or was near death. I fully expected it. Surely it was the only reason they made the long drive back.
And then Gavin spoke, and I listened, questioning every word.
"Nate and Chelsey?"My mind wrestled with every syllible. Every particle of brain matter tossed them back and forth in disbelief.
"Kolbi?"
"Thier baby?"
Again I tried to rid myself of every thought. I wanted to spue them out, erase them permanantly from my head. I wanted to destroy every dark conclusion that was now pushing it's way in.
"A horrible accident?"Again I tried to rid myself of every thought. I wanted to spue them out, erase them permanantly from my head. I wanted to destroy every dark conclusion that was now pushing it's way in.
"A death?"
I couldn't wrap my mind around any of it. After struggling, wrestling with every bane idea, after all the obtrusive thoughts sank deep inside me, and when suddenly every disturbed image shook me sensless, only then did I start to surcome. And that's when I saw it, a clear picture of the grindstone. And I saw the road, the long oppressing road from hell, the one any parent has to walk when they bury a child, the one I have walked. And for a split second I was transported back in time and there I stood in a hospital room and the doctor echoed the words, "Your baby didn't make it." And right then every ounce of grief I have ever withstood in my life came pouring back into me. Flooding into me in mass amounts and sorrow wrapped it's heavy arms around me, pulling me down, down to that dark place I know to well.
In all my sorrow, there I sat. I felt so small sitting there in the front seat of my truck. My whole body trembled and I heaved in groans of despair with every realization of the blatant truth. My eyes began vomiting tears in an uncontrolable stream down my face. Heaving them up like a hot boiling chaldran. Repeatedly spitting them out along with the constant word, "No." That's the only word I knew. And I said it over and over again as if I could change what God had written. And for some strange reason, two senerios became one. There it was all in front of me. Corbin and his angelic little face and sweet Nate and Chelsey. And all of it caved in on me as I clearly understood what had just been ripped away from them! And in the most tragic way possible. With that stark picture in my head, suddenly I felt like I was there, right there with them, aching and seething with every ounce of their unbearable pain.
Gavin's voice brought me back to reality. He said Chelsey was waiting for me to do Kolbi's hands. She needed me. She wanted me and no one else. Seth came and climbed behind the wheel of the truck. Gavin put Glade and I in the back seat of his car. We drove, me numb with my tear stained face pressed up against the cold glass. I tried to watch the scenery go by. I tried hard to see anything clearly as I sat there staring out a dark tinted window. All I saw was grief and it's ugly face starring back at me.
I decided to send a message to Kris. My phone was a blur. A steady flow of water was blocking my visibility. Through all my tears my fingers typed, "I'm on my way." And then my heart gave way as it finished shattering into tiny pieces the rest of the long way home.
I don't remember calling Kaedell. I don't remember her packing up my kit. I don't remember arriving home and going in my house to grab it. I don't remember driving to the funeral home in Tremonton. All I remember is opening up a door and stepping though it, only to see broken hearts and a family I have long loved. All of them sitting on a couch like carefully positioned manicans. All of them trying to look courageous, crushed under the heavy weight of death. And in the middle of them a sweet angelic baby, cradeled inside clinging arms, nestled in the warm embrace of undying love. Her body here. Her spirit there. The wrenching seperation and the bitter removal of the breath of life. All of it sureal, all of it clawing at my heart and soul. I just stood there, feeling torn, helpless, little and obsolete.
A mother. A father. Their baby. One heavy unjust tragedy looming over them black as the darkest night. And somewhere in that heart wrenching scene, I felt God's love start to seep in and I felt his holy presence. I took one look at that baby surrounded by enough love to lift the entire world and I saw the sacredness of it all. That scene took me back to the day I held my own son with the life gone out of him. And right then and there I knew God had arrived. I knew He would wield His power. He will perform the rescue. He will mend the impossible! He always does, if we let Him!
After the whole picture seered through me like a hot burning fire, I thought about the task ahead of me. One look at Chelsey, my sweet niece whom I love with all my heart, one look at Nate, one of the greatest men you will ever meet, a kind man, a gentle man, a good man, and one look at the best parents the world could ever dream up, I knew without a shadow of a doubt God would help me. As I stood looking at the task at hand, right then and there, I knew the spirit would attend to my work in a great and magnificent way. It would be a monutental job, trying to steal back a little piece of a child, trying to capture just a fragment of her lightening bug personality, her tender love and her sweet example, just a little piece of her soulful spirit and cement them all in stone, so that everyday they can see it, everyday they can touch it, everyday they will know, she is theirs . . . yesterday . . .today . . . tommorrow. . . and forever. One set of hands. One moment in time carved into eternity saved in solid white stone. One tiny reminder that the day will come when they will all be happily together again.
After I took the impressions, after it was over and we drove home, when I had poured the molds, treated them and left them to dry, I prayed hard and retired for the night. I tried to sleep but sleep was next to impossible and finally, much to my relief, the morning light found me. Getting out of bed was no easy task. Every part of me ached inside with the epicenter being at the heart. I rose, dressed and got my tools and with serious apprehension I went to the sink to work.
My mind poured over my nervous thoughts. "A tripple mold, the hardest imprint to take. A mom, a baby, and a father's hands all in one mold. What fingers would I lose? Which one's would be missing? What problems would arise." With a tripple mold there are always a myriad of problems, big ones! I prayed one last time and as I carefully cut and peeled the mold from the stone, I saw it, the touch of the Masters hand. As long as I live, I know I will never again take an imprint as beautiful as this one. When I looked at those hands, I sat down on my stool and cried. Every inch was practically perfect.
I spent the day preparing them. As I cleaned and worked I felt it was as if my Father In Heaven had cast the mold himself. After I finished, I sat the hands on my dining room table to dry. I had to keep going back in to look at them. Each time I did the tears started to roll down my cheeks. Every tear was encased in graitiude.
I had a lot of visitors that day. The kids and some of their friends, everyone from the UPS guy to neighbors and a local salesman. Everyone that walked into my dining room that day, every individual came out the same way, choked up, red faced, and with tears leaking out all over the place. The last person to wander through my dinning room was Kelson. It was late at night and he had cut through the dining room on his way to the stairs. He wasn't prepared for the sight he would pass. He didn't realize the hands were in on the table drying. When he came out of the dinning room I took one look at him and knew where he had been. Then I asked him, "You saw the hands didn't you?" He nodded. He couldn't speak. His face was flushed. He was so choked with emotion, tears falling everywhere. Finally he found his words, "They're beautiful mom." I couldn't speak, I just nodded in affirmation.
One set of hands. One mother, one father holding tight to one child. One tremendous bond of love. And all of it exemplifying one profound reminder from a loving Father in Heaven who governs all things in wisdom and order. He will preform the rescue. He will come in simple unyielding ways and stitch up piece by piece every ounce of hurt. And He "WILL" mend all things broken, all the human suffering left behind. Great is His power, great are His ways, even in the greatest pain a family can barely pack, He is there and I see Him. Every time I look at these hands I see His quiet tender mercies starting to imerge from one horrible tragedy. In the tragedy there is nothing but chaos, disbelief, doubt, heartache, pain and suffering. In the midunderstood details there is the tempation to choose the bitter way. Yet as I peeled back the mold of one of the most beautiful bonds of eternal togetherness I have ever seen in my life, I began to see the opposite of oppression and Satan's threat to do what he does best, destroy. In one stone cast hand impression of God's love, I see healing. I see God's way. In the healing I can see His plan, a plan of happiness amidst the chaos. And in the healing there is power, wisdom, order, and there will be great growth. The kind that brings His children back where they belong. After all, that is why we are here on this earth having this earthly experience. Really, what is the purpose in life with all of its suffering if not to grab hold of wisdom and grow fit for our home on high.
In the death of my own son, I have asked myself a question many times. When I stand over his tiny grave, when I think of his tiny sweet face. When I ask myself the question, the answer comes to my mind swiftly, I think to many, those who have never experienced the long road of death, this answer might sound harsh. Yet without a doubt it is an answer I never graivitate from.
The question I always ask myself, "Would I trade my son's death for the growth, the direction, the wisdom, and the knowledge I gained in it?" If I had the power to go back in time and change the circumstances, change that dreadful moment when he left me ---would I? Would I give up all that I gained in one painful journey to have him here instead of there?
The answer, few will understand, the one that is always the same and never changes, is forever NO. No, I would never trade what I gained in my son's death for his very life, right here, right now. He is safe, He is where I hope to be one day. He was fit for the kingdom the day he was born. I would never selfishly want to change that. I have a son who has gained his eternal exhaultation. And in his death, he has a mother who has gained great wisdom . . . wisdom that will bring me up to where he is.
My son's death taught me everything about life and it's spiritual purpose. It opened my eyes so that I might see clearly what is important in this life! His death centered me. His death grabbed hold of me and ripped me from one dismal directaion and pointed me in the correct one. His death gave my life purpose and meaning and it continues to do so today, nearly 27 years later. In the midst of Heartache, pain and suffering came the finest lessons I could ever learn. And in God's wisdom, what I learned from my son's death has become absolutely the richest blessing God has ever bestowed upon me. How could I change that? Everyday I have to thank my angel son for what he gave me in that horrible experience called death. It is his death that has riveted me in life's truths. For that my gratitude runs deeper than any human heart could ever imagine.
It's ironic when I look back before Corbin died and I think about all of the things I was praying for at that time, so many of those requested pleadings to my Father in Heaven were in fact answered in my trial. I made a decision the day I burried my son. It is a decision I have never regretted. It is the decision that taught me, in this life, there are only two ways! Yes, only TWO!!! Two choices, no more. To choose God's way or not. Those are really the only choices we get. To choose His path, or take another. Satan has many paths. God has only one. We can choose His plan, or not. We can get up each and every day and strive to live our lives the way the Lord would have us live, or we can make excuses why we don't. It is that simple.
The day I stood over one tiny grave, I promised my son, my God, my family, and myself, that one child's death would not be in vain. And that I would live my life with passion and purpose, God's purpose. And I would live life for both of us! Every day I strive hard, every day I have failures and dissapointments in myself, but that doesn't stop me from getting up with the new light and going at it hard once again. I made a vow that day, that anything negative would not be allowed to prevail in my life. That I would choose the higher road, the one with eternal truths, the one that lifts me up to where I need to be, to where my son is, to where I belong. Afterall, that is absolutely the only choice that brings meaning to the suffering, calms the chaotic, and drives the dark gloom from that which is sanctified and holy and honors God and my son.
So . . . when I look at these precious hands, I see it, I see the choice clearly. It's the only choice that counts. It's the only choice that brings relief. It is the only choice that gives meaning. It is the only choice that honors one sweet precious little girl. Maybe it's a curel trick on God's part, because the only choice that keeps these hands bonded together is the choice to choose God's way and none other, not even in the face of tragedy can we choose another way, and that is indeed the real test here. To face this kind of loss, in this kind of way and take none of it's blistering bitterness inside us. And in making this choice, the choice to hold onto the good, the choice to hold onto the spiritual, in the middle of all this earthly hell, comes the greatest rescue you could ever imagine. God will make up this loss after the trial. The test always comes before the grade! And when we give our energies no matter how futile it feels, no matter how scarce our efforts might be, when we perseveer to rise above the devestation, the sheer torture of a situation like this, then comes the blessings. And more rich and abundantly than we can ever comprehend. If Nate and Chelsey perseveer. Our Father in Heaven will make up this loss. He will! This is not just my belief but solid hard earned knowledge. I know! I've been there!!!
I'm going to make a bold statement here. Don't bother arguing it with me because you will lose. It doesn't matter how Kolbi died. It doesn't matter where she died. It doesn't matter why or even when. What matters, and it is the only thing that matters, is how this little couple chooses to react to it all. In everything that happens to any single one of us, we only have one choice we can make in this life. We cannot control what happens to us. The only thing we are in full control of is . . . our reaction to what happens to us. It is in the choosing that determines what follows. Underneath everything bad in this life, flows a little hidden current of good. Somewhere, someplace, it is there waiting behind the shadows. And when we excercise the wisdom and the power to search for it, reach for it, grab hold of it the best we can against all odds, that is the precise moment God steps in and magnifies that tiny bit of good. He magnifies it into the great and the profound!
I am so thankful today that when I look at these hands I see it. I see Nate and Chelsey's reaction. I see their choice to one horrible unjust tragedy. I see one mother, one father holding tight to the good, the pure, the sacred and the spiritual. And that is all that matters! That is what counts and that is the test here! To keep doing that every single day, even though it hurts like hell and grief steals your energies and desire. You have to keep at it, and effort towards it, you have to hold on tight, gripping at it with every ounce of energy it takes. It is not easy to hold on to the the sweet when it is surrounded by the bitter. It takes an enormous amount of courage, bravery, fortitude, and wisdom to hold on to the good and let go of the bad. But I have no doubt what direction this little family is headed in.
Kolbi Mae was and is a beautiful pure and holy spirit. The circumstances in which she left this life seem ugly, twisted and confounding, especially to one good, honest, broken hearted father, one good true and faithful mother, one little family striving hard to do what's right. I think these circumstances in how death entered into their lives are a complete deception. Deception in it's greatest form. I am certain that on that dreadful fatefilled day, guardian angles were painfully restrained against their will, held back with Heaven's arms, so that God's plan could prevail. I know He will make all things sensible.
And now Kolbi leads the way. The choice today is not to dwell on the "why" but the "when". That day 'WHEN' all things will be made known. And in these hands comes the ultimate message from our Father in Heaven. Can't you hear His words conveyed in the sight? Just look at these precious hands and you will see and hear it, His charge . . . "Continue to reach for and hold tight to all that which is sacred, pure, holy and good." Little Kolbi is sacred, she is all of that and more. And this child exemplifies everything there is that is good. Look at her angelic hand! She is pointing the way. She is pointing Heavenward. She knows! To hold onto her is to hold onto God's plan without any bitterness. To hold onto her is to hold tight to faith even in the midst of darkness. To hold onto her is to hold onto the light and everything that is good, honest, right and true.
Since the accident and the sweet memorial service to celebrate Kolbi's life. I have gropped and gropped for the right words to describe my emotions and being so close to this experience. I have sat on my bed and cried buckets of tears. I have felt the tremendous loss and my heart hangs heavy and sad with the emptiness she leaves behind. My words and thoughts feel strangled and befuddled. Despite however, every temptation to grovel in the gloom, there is a tremendous light in this little child's face that lifts me up in a way I cannot express. So much light in one little smile. Perhaps it is her complete goodness that hinders my ability to write with passion and truth trying hard as I may to give description to a child so sacred and pure. And so I can only whisper now, how privleged we are to have had her in our midst!
So in honor of Kolbi Mae, in honor of Chelsey and Nate, in honor of two parents truly worthy of such a child, in honor of their precious family, I leave this tribute to them. And I do it pressing out every ounce of ability I have to do it justice. In my life, I have never seen a more couragous couple. Chelsey and Nate have real honest bonified grit! They exemplify the best there is in this life! Every inch of the way since this whole nightmare began, they have stood giant in the bitter face of their Goliath. They have met the oppressing grindstone. To some the grindstone crushes, while others endure the heat and are polished. In my eyes, Nate and Chelsey are shinning today like no other. And today as I watch them endure a heartache so heavy and devestating that I can't find words to describe it, I am so impressed. And there is no doubt in my mind, they will rise and conquer all things that seek to destroy them. I admire them in a million different ways. I look up to them. They make me want to strive harder to be a better person. And I'm so very proud of them. They are a complete inspiration to me and to us all.
So I close with a poem and the tenderest video you will ever see. God bless you Nate and Chelsey! Our love and prayers are with you!!!
You never said "I'm leaving"
You never said goodbye
A million times I'll need you,
A million times I'll cry.
If Love alone could save you,
You never would have died
In Life I love you dearly
In death I love you still
In my heart you hold a place,
That no one will ever fill
It breaks my heart to lose you,
But you didn't go alone
For part of me went with you,
The day God took you home.
You never said goodbye
A million times I'll need you,
A million times I'll cry.
If Love alone could save you,
You never would have died
In Life I love you dearly
In death I love you still
In my heart you hold a place,
That no one will ever fill
It breaks my heart to lose you,
But you didn't go alone
For part of me went with you,
The day God took you home.
