Today I am home with Hadley. We are baking Christmas cookies in the comfort of our home. The smell of peanut butter wafts through the kitchen and I am counting my blessings. On the heels of the Connecticut tragedy, I am especially mindful of how important it is to make every minute count. There have been lots of extra kisses and "I love you's" spoken here.
As I type this, Uncle Dan (Brandon's Uncle, but I claim him just as strongly ;)) is preparing to leave this Earth and enter heaven. Diagnosed with cancer earlier this year, he has waged an amazing battle with his wife of 33 years, Jane, at his side every step of the way. The youngest of 6 children, he is a Daddy to four grown children, has a granddaughter who is absolutely precious and another grandbaby on the way. He worked as a farmer and would invite our kids to climb on his farm machinery and marvel at the size of tractor tires. Rides on Uncle Dan's four-wheeler were a highlight of trips to Lindsborg. I have many memories of him walking into Grandpa and Grandma Carlson's house in town with his stainless steel coffee mug in hand, just stopping by say hello, always with a warm smile and a big hug to give.
As a former Oncology nurse, the nightmare of cancer is not foreign to me. As a caretaker for my own Mother as she fought this terrible disease, the pain that surrounds this journey is all too familiar. Perhaps this is why I am aching to my very core for this family. It is hard not to ask "why". Jane's posts on Caring Bridge have been a continual reminder to me that we should not ask "why" in these situations, but instead, approach the Throne to receive the wisdom, comfort, and hope that we so desperately need.
In the midst of sorrow, there is comfort. We know where Uncle Dan is headed. It is almost impossible for me to imagine the splendor of heaven that awaits him. No more pain, sickness, or sorrow. I envision angels applauding and the Lord smiling as Uncle Dan leaves his earthly body. A grand celebration of a life well-lived. In the midst of these realizations, I remember how hard good-bye is. There is no experience like being in the presence of one who is so close to heaven. It is incredibly surreal. I am only sorry for those of us here on earth who are left missing him. My heart is heavy realizing that the grief journey is far from over for loved ones as they heal. I know healing will come and this experience will be used for God's glory. It already has been. But the pain is so raw.
The radio plays Christmas songs and my heart and mind are with the Carlson family in Salina, Kansas, as they sit at Dan's bedside, treasuring these final moments with him. You are loved. May peace and comfort find you in the hours, days, and months to come. Please join me in lifting this amazing family up in your prayers.
Uncle Dan, we are grateful that your body will be restored soon and that you will be set free to bask in the presence of our Lord and Savior. Thank you for ministry to all of us. We love you and look forward to the day we meet again.
