Remembering

August 14, 2001 is a day I’ll never forget. It is the day I sat in the ICU and watched my dad die. I’m not good at doing nothing, so I gave myself the job of pushing the button that gave him pain medication every fifteen minutes, which was how often he was allowed another dose I watched the time between his breaths become longer and longer until we realized that he wasn’t going to breathe again. He was 54, I was 23.

I wish that day wasn’t the day so ingrained in my mind. My dad, unconscious in a hospital bed, isn’t the image of my dad I want to remember. That wasn’t my dad. Looking at him during the visitation didn’t bother me because that wasn’t my dad. I could just tell he was gone. His spirit wasn’t there. I just knew.

I want to remember my dad doing something. All the time. He wasn’t a talker, he was a do-er.

I want to remember my dad who farmed. The one who worked on the fairground and loved to fix and build things.

I want to remember him with black hair, and big, metal framed glasses that were so out of style yet so right for him.

I want to remember him in his Amoco uniform and running out to meet him when we heard his work truck drive up.  

I want to remember the smile that took over his face and how he always kissed my mom before he left for work and called her every night when he was away on a trip.

I want to remember the one time the two of us went out for dinner together when I was in college.  How he rolled his eyes when I showed him my new piercing.  Or when we sat outside that same summer and he told me that I was the one that would move far away and marry a pastor and I laughed at the thought.

I want to remember the dad that sang with the church choir.

I want to remember his faith.  I trust, completely and without a doubt that he is heaven. He clung to his faith. He had hope. Outwardly he was wasting away but inwardly he was being renewed day by day.  

My kids are wise beyond their years. When my son was five, I was telling him that August 14 was the day Grandpa Hasty went to heaven. My son looked at me and said “We should celebrate. I miss him but I’m glad he’s not hurting anymore.”

I want to remember that too.

Until the Very End

A year or two ago my husband told me that my 40th birthday present would be the tattoo I've been talking about for years.

Really, I've wanted a tattoo for a long time, but I couldn't decide what I would want to have permanently inscribed on my body. For about the last 18 months the same phrase has been stuck in my head and I'm positive of what and where my tattoo will be.

I want four simple words on the inside of my wrist, tattooed so I can read them when I look down. The four words are "until the very end"

"Until the very end" is actually a quote from one of my favorite books series, Harry Potter. In book seven, as Harry faces death head on, he is surrounded by the formed memories of his closest family. They promise to stay with him until the very end, until the event he fears is over and done.

I love, love, love the image of heading into a situation you fear knowing that you have the support of your family. Part of the reason I want the tattoo is for that very reason. To be reminded that my family and friends, who live far and wide, are with me whenever I go off to the scary places in life. Those places could be big or small, but scary is scary and being a visual person I would get great comfort from that visual reminder.

There is another reason that I want those words tattooed on my body. For me it is a reminder that God is with me all the time as well. God says "I am with you always, to the very end of the age" Matthew 28:20. Time and time again, God reminds me that He is with me, in good times and in hard times.

Due to family genetics, I've thought more about the end of my life than most people. The reason I want those words on my wrist and not a more hidden location is so that no matter what state my body is in, as long as I can see, I can see those words and be reminded that I have a God that is with me until the very end. He will never leave me. He will comfort me in all my troubles.

Now, I'm still two years or so away from that magic age of 40, but I've got scary things on the horizon. Scary doesn't mean bad, even good things can cause fear. Over the next few months as we pack our house and start again in a new city, the words "until the very end" will give me comfort, because the people who love me will be walking with me every step of the way.

Invest

invest: to put out (as effort) in support of a usually worthy cause (Merriam-Webster)


When I was thinking about what word I wanted to focus on this year, the word invest kept popping in my mind. I'm not in a place right now where I have money to invest in amazing causes, but I quickly realized that's not what invest means.

The definition above struck me in several ways-

to put out (as effort)- investing takes work. It isn't going to be easy to invest in someone or something. It will, in fact, take effort. Investing isn't all fun and games. Sometimes it looks an awful lot like work.

In support of-- investing shows I'm in support of the person or situation. It shows I care. Investment means I feel that it matters.

a usually worthy cause- I laughed when I read this definition. But really, how easy would it be for me to avoid the investment, to come up with excuses? The most I can say about myself is that I'm usually worthy of the grace and care that I've been given. We can't wait around to only invest in things that are perfect--nothing ever will be.

So, what does invest look like for me? I'm focusing on four places I can invest:

Myself: I'm putting out the effort it takes to set aside time to do the things I enjoy (like write and book launching) and learn some new skills.

My family: I'm taking the time to spend more one on one time with my husband and kids. I'm actively trying to not just talk about doing things with them, but scheduling that time as well.
I live far away from my mom, brother and sister. I'm also working to take the time to call and write them (they all know I'm bad at that)

My friends: I'm investing in these relationships too. I've got a goal of writing more letters, making more phone calls and building more friendships.

My faith: I'm investing in this (always) worth cause. I'm reading my Bible more. I'm choosing some books to read that cause me to pause and think about my faith. I'm looking reasons to be grateful.

So, this year I'm making an effort to invest. If you get a letter or a phone call from me, know it is because I think you matter- you are a worthy cause!

Sound of Gravel

Life has a funny way of working sometimes. Back in 2015, I ended up in an online group after not making it on the launch team for Jen Hatmaker's book For the Love.  Through that group, I meet the amazing and lovely Anna (pronounced like the Frozen character, not like me). Anna has amazing ninja-like book launching skills, and because of her, I was able to be on the launch team for a book that came out this week called The Sound of Gravel. (side story for another day: Anna is Ruth's cousin. It really is a whole crazy story)

Anna and Anna 

I love reading memoirs. It is fascinating to me to get a peek into someone else's life. Understanding where others have come from is so valuable in my eyes. Reading The Sound of Gravel gave me a new perspective on childhood, responsibility, family, trust and hope.

Ruth's story of her childhood is told with a quiet strength that was so powerful. Really, I can't stop talking about this book. Ask any of my other book reading friends.

I read the book with a bit of dread.  Ruth doesn't have a happy-go-lucky childhood.  I read the entire book (in about a day) fearing the ending was going to devastate me. Without giving anything away, I will say the ending was not what I was expecting.

I was struck by the theme of trust in Ruth's book. She learned very early in life that she could trust no one completely. Reading as she struggled with the idea of trust was eye opening to me. My heart broke for her. Feeling I can trust and be trusted is so important to me and something I think I take for granted.

Ruth never gave up hope that something better would happen. At a very young age, she learned the value of holding on to hope. Even in a life of deep sadness, she found the glimmer of hope to hold on to. I respect her so much for that ability.

Ruth's book can be found pretty much anywhere.  Check out ruthwariner.com for more information on where to purchase the book.  Check your library as well. I know mine has several copies.  Find it, read it, and let me know what your thoughts are!

I'm heading to Book Passage in Corte Madera on Wednesday, January 13th to meet Ruth and hear her speak. If any local friends are interested in joining me, let me know!

*Note: I was given an Advance Reading Copy in exchange for an honest review.