The Days that Follow

The days leading up to Daddy's funeral were a whirlwind. There were so many decisions to make and emotions to sort that even now things from those days have become fuzzy. I took a break from blogging from awhile at that time because I just couldn't really handle writing; didn't quite know what to say. But for remembrance sake, there are a few things that I still want to get down before I forget them.

As we struggled through the tragedy, I was completely overwhelmed by those who came out to share how much they loved both him and us. For three hours solid, one after another gave us their love and embraced us as they emphasized what a wonderful man he was and let us know how much he meant to them. Many waited in line for extended periods of time even outside in the freezing cold as the line wrapped around the building.

It meant more to me than they could have ever imagined to see their commitment to him and us, and I found myself wishing that he could have seen all the lives he'd touched. To be honest, I had no idea the scale of the impact his life had had on so many individuals from different circles around our community until then. I knew he was a man who cared about others, sought ways to meet people's needs, and had a playful joking way of keeping everyone smiling, but I didn't know just how many other people had such a deep respect and appreciation of him.  One of my friends probably said it best when she wrote the following comment to me right after funeral, "It speaks volumes about your dad that today filled three whole parking lots....and then some!" Yes, it does....and I'm definitely proud of him - proud to be recognized as his daughter, to have been taught through his example to help and love people the way he did.

When I posted about my dad's passing three months ago, the response was overwhelming. Rather than the normal 40-50 page views my posts usually receive, blogger recorded over 2,000 visits to that particular one. Even my most popular posts like Reid's birth have only received between 125-150 views, so I was blown away by how viral Dad's story became. From family members to church folks, from my chiropractor to the lady who did my pedicure, people all over town were telling me that they'd read it. That being said, since many of our family and friends have asked how we are doing in the after math of all that's taken place, I thought another post would be the best way to update everyone on how we are doing.

To begin, I'll start with my mom. My Uncle Chuck used to say that she was "tougher than a pine knot," and she's definitely proven that these past few months. Her and my dad had a trucking business together that she has had to learn to run single-handedly, which has been a major feat. Mom has always been involved in the trucking, but now she is doing the job of two people and having to take on roles that she'd never had to before. God has faithfully put people in her path to help her work out the logistics and she has been faithful about carrying the decisions she's making to Him in prayer, which I am sure is what is keeping things going. There has been a lot to settle with his estate, taxes to deal with, drivers to hire, and things to sort out, but she is persistent and diligent. I am impressed with her daily as she breaks through this tough ground and surfaces.

There is also just the normal grief of losing her high school sweetheart too, the man who's been beside her for over three decades to make decisions with, plan with, and laugh with. But, God is still holding her through it all, putting people in her path for the encouragement that she needs or to just get out of the house and have a meal with as a pleasant distraction. Isaiah 40:11 says, "He takes care of His people like a shepherd. He gathers them like lambs in His arms and carries them close to Him," and He definitely is holding her close.

My dad bought Mom a new wedding band and diamond a few months ago. After we lost him, she took her old set as well as his wedding band and had this charm constructed - his ring on the outside, hers in the middle, and the diamond from her engagement ring as the center. I thought it was wonderful idea and a great present to herself for what would have been their 33 year wedding anniversary this past Friday.

My granny seems to be doing pretty well considering all that's taken place. In her too, I've been impressed by the way God has calmed her heart. Having children myself, I don't think there could ever be much greater a pain than losing a child. Even as an adult, your baby will always be your baby. But, rather than becoming bitter, I see a peace and a hope in her that could originate no where else but through God's grace. In my talks with her, I've been able to see how He's working to heal her heart in a way uniquely suited for her.

My sister doesn't say a whole lot about her feelings. She is a lot like my dad in that regard really. Instead we mostly just talk about memories. And, as my cousin Tawny commented one day, "When someone you love becomes a memory, all the memories become a treasure." 

One of the hardest parts for her I'm sure will be her wedding day. We had just picked out her dress days before Daddy passed. But, I'm thankful that Dad got the opportunity to meet her wonderful fiance Brandon; a man after his own heart. In the days following the funeral there were so many times that something Brandon would say or do almost made me break down with emotion as I saw so much of what I admired about my dad in him. From the way he gave me a mischievous wink across the room when he teased my sister to his good-hearted care for my mother, his personality resembles my dad's in so many ways. I think Courtney will be able to see a lot of those characteristics of my dad in her future husband for years to come and I hope that will be a comfort. I hope she'll also take solace in knowing that Daddy gave Brandon permission to marry his daughter, and so in a sense he really did have the chance to give her away to the man he thought was right for her.

As for me, I think there are moments when it still just doesn't feel real and others when it knocks the breath right out of me and the tears start streaming. This week has been a particularly emotional one. 

There hasn't been any real rhyme or reason for when the feelings hit. Sometimes I'm just overwhelmed by them when I look at a photo, think about things that will never be again, or all the sweet family time he is missing now. It is especially hard watching my kids doing something I know he'd love to be a part of.  I can picture how that smirky grin would have spread across his face, kind of turning up one corner of his mouth, as he would have chuckled at Caleb running the wrong way on the soccer field. I can see the humor his eyes would have held as he watched Hadley's feistiness or enjoyed her giggles. I can hear him telling Reid that he needs to go on a diet as he pinched his chunky legs. He was so proud of them.

For the most part though, life has to go on as normal. I have three kids to tend to, so things don't slow down. And, sometimes while I feel guilty for having moments of normalcy, maybe in some ways that is good, so I don't have too much down time to think about it.  I almost forget at times until I go to call him and realize I can't or see a truck that looks like his and crane to see if he's driving it, only to remember that that's impossible. Sometimes I think I catch a glimpse of him when I'm out somewhere or on occassion I think I hear his voice, but it's only to realize that it's someone else. 

Some of the toughest parts of this whole process though has been watching Caleb grieve. He and his pop had a special relationship full of teasing one another, sharing their favorite snacks, and wrestling each other. That first night after Dave told that something bad had happened, that Pop had died, he was serious and quiet for a while. Later, as they said bed time prayers, he interrupted, asking Dave if he could pray for Pop to come alive again, to which my husband tried to explain to our three-year-old why this wouldn't happen. As he began to cry, other concerns started pouring out of his little mouth: Did NaNa die too? and Who's going to live with NaNa? Dave reassured him the best he could and my little boy cried some more.

Over the course of the first few days, he tried to make sense of it all. The first time we took him to my parents' house, he said something like, "There's Pop's truck, maybe he's here." Dave asked him if he remembered what happened and he said he did. Though he was disappointed, there were no tears this time. That night as Dave tucked him in, he asked if Caleb had any more questions and he wanted to know why Pop's boots were still there. Dave explained that we leave our things behind and that NaNa would have to go through them, but a few days later he brought the subject up again with my mom, asking what she was going to do with all Pop's stuff. She simply told him that she was going to keep it and asked, "Why? Did you want some of Pop's stuff?" When he said he did, she asked like what, and not knowing quite how to respond Caleb looked over at Dad's flatscreen and replied in his innocence, "Like maybe Pop's TV." (I think God knew we needed the comic relief!)

Dave was so good about talking him through things and trying to explain as we went. Before the family night he told him a lot of people who loved Pop would be coming to remember him. On the way up the driveway to the funeral service the next day, they talked about all the cars to which Caleb exclaimed, "A lot of people sure did love Pop." (Yeah they did, Sweetheart. Yeah they did.)

You can just tell in the days that have followed that it comes and goes in his little mind, such as when he sometimes comments, "I really liked Pop." One day, he asked me if he could call him underground and got upset when I explained he couldn't talk to him. When Dave told him that we could still talk about Pop and went through some of the fun memories they had together that seemed to help. Another time, he began listing all the people who would be at his birthday party and then all of the sudden choked up as he said, "Pop was going to come to my party." It's a hard thing to grasp, and sometimes he wasn't quite sure what to say and tried to put it into words with phrases like, "Pop isn't real any more."

On the other hand, Hadley is still too young to really understand anything has happened. The first time we took her to my parents' house she walked through the upstairs, yelling, "Pop, Pop" as she searched for him and it broke my heart to know she wouldn't find him. However, we didn't really explain to her what had happened, because she doesn't even know the word death yet. Since then she's commented when she's seen him in a picture or on a video, and one day a week or so ago she was even outside calling, "Pop, where are you?" as she looked around the yard at our house after hearing me mention him. I don't know if it is possible for a 22 month old to remember things, but I surely hope she remembers him.

Reid, of course, is way too little to remember. This may make me the saddest of all because he will never know the joy my dad brought to a room. He'll know nothing of his joking personality, his strong hands, or his unique colloquialisms that made him him.

There are still definitely going to be some hard days ahead. Birthdays, holidays...just those moments when we want him here - want to hear his voice, want his advice, want to feel his arms around us. "But joyful are those who have the God of Israel as their helper, whose hope is in the Lord their God. He made heaven and earth, the sea, and everything in them. He keeps every promise forever." (Psalm 146:5-6) And, the promise is that: "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." (Psalm 34:18) He's already binding our wounds and helping us through.

Easter 2014 - Part 2

After church, we swung by the house to grab the watermelon basket I made and change my clothes since one of the kids had wiped their nose on my dress. Then off to Granny's house we went.

I was somewhat worried about how smoothly the day was going to go to be honest. The kids are usually ready for lunch right after church and then naps, so we weren't sure how disrupting their schedule was going to work. Would we be able to slide in a nap? Could we keep the crankiness to a minimum? How did we keep the sugar intake low despite all accessibility to candy and desserts?

Thankfully though, things went pretty smoothly. I had everything ready before we went to church, which meant we could head straight to Granny's afterwards. The kids fell asleep in the car which meant not only that they got naps, but also that we got to fix ourselves a plate of food while they slept and sit down to adult conversation which rarely happens.  

We couldn't have asked for a much prettier day either. Granny bought the kids some t-ball sets and soccer balls and Aunt Julie bought Hadley some bubbles for her birthday, so they had lots to do outside. Even the grown-ups got in on the fun. Whether they joined in the football game, helped the kids with their new toys, or just enjoyed watching the action while basking in the sunshine, the adults enjoyed themselves as much as the little ones did.

This was the first holiday since my dad passed away that we all got together, so it was definitely bittersweet. Even in the days leading up, it was on everyone's minds that this would be our first whole family celebration without him. God really blessed us though with a beautiful day and some time for family bonding to help our still healing hearts. In some ways, I think we all needed the day together. You could just sense there was just some type of bond that seemed deeper than it had before. 

One of the most touching things about the day though was the way my Uncle Junior loved on my little Reid. This baby is somewhat of a magnet when it comes to my dad's brother, who can't help but seeing my father in his sweet features. And, while snuggling with Reid may have been comforting to Junior, it also comforted me to see that grandfatherly type love being lavished on my boy who didn't have his Pop around to do it. I've never thought my dad and his older brother looked that much alike, but as I looked through these pictures and saw the way he looked at Reid, I saw Daddy in my uncle's face. Until then, I hadn't realized how much I need that. 

There were a few other special things about the day too. When we were kids, Granny used to buy kites for my cousins and me every year for Easter. Our parents would struggle to put the things together and off through the yard we'd go trying to get them up in the air. I don't remember being very successful, but I do remember having a lot of fun. Eventually we kind of grew out of kite flying though and she started buying airplanes or Nerf guns or something like that for our younger cousins, so the days of flying kites in our family seemed to be behind us. That is until this year!

The week before Easter, Granny surprised me when one day when she commented about buying some kites for kids this year. "Hooray!" I thought. My little ones were going to get to participate in this lost Vaught family tradition. I was going to be the parent trying to put it together, and a new generation would be trying their best to get their new treasures in flight.

This is my Great Aunt Margaret trying out her kite flying skills. My cousin Philip commented that this is the best kite pose ever and I have to agree. :)

I was especially impressed with three-year-old Peyton who had hers flying very well. She has skills that I sure didn't when I was her age I guess.

I worked with Hadley quite a while....

....trying to get her to run while I held it.

Finally, I decided maybe if I could get it in the air that I could just hand it off to her.

"Come and get it, Hadley!"

It would fall usually before she could get a hold on it, so off I went again, having a good ole' time. 

Finally, we got it. The trick was to keep the string short for her.

She was still a bit disgruntled for some reason though. I think she wanted to hold the kite itself. I could never quite figure out what was frustrating her.

Big girl trying to do it herself

You've got to get up some speed!

We had plenty of spectators. Everyone wanted to watch the kite flying.

Caleb tried a couple times to get his up but didn't have much patience with kite flying. He went inside instead where he somehow talked Aunt Julie into giving him a big piece of strawberry cake. The next thing I knew, he and Aunt Beth had their heads together chanting, "Chocolate, Chocolate!" (So much for my plan to keep the sweets to a minimum.)

After kite flying and snacking came the event we'd all be waiting for - the Easter egg hunt! Cliff and Ryan did a great job hiding eggs for everyone to find. Some were in obvious spaces for the little ones, and others were much more difficult to spot. Tuffs of dry grass left over from when the yard had been mowed recently were great tools for camouflaging those colorful eggs.

After being at an egg hunt the day before at the firehouse, Hadley immediately looked in her first egg, expecting a treat inside. Sorry, Girlfriend! Mommy told Granny I thought no candy was best. 

There go Dan and Bell to fetch some eggs.

Hayden was so sweet to the little ones and pointed out hiding spots.

No bells or whistles were really needed, just being out in the sunshine and having some time with family made it a fun day.

After most of the Vaughts had headed home, my brood stayed put for awhile since we were supposed to be at my mom's house next door at 5. Rather than heading all the way home, we just relaxed a bit, everyone doing their own thing. Hadley snuck back in the toy room and turned on some cartoons, Reid played with Aunt Beth, and Caleb went outside to shoot the water gun Granny had gifted him.

He said Granny was going to be very happy because he was helping her plants grow and making her yard beautiful.

Then it was time to head to my mom's where there was a whole new set of aunts, uncles, and cousins to enjoy.

Golf lessons from Uncle Randy

Hadley and Celia found a couple more playmates to chase - Mom's chickens, Gertie and Tunsy.

We had an Easter egg hunt there too. Since there were so many little ones, the eggs were hid pretty easily and the kids spotted them quickly.

 

Blake

After they found them all, Caleb emptied his basket and threw the eggs out in the yard to start again!

Since the kids' Longaberger baskets aren't the best for gathering eggs, they each have a lighter weight one to use. This year, Reid used the basket his daddy used to use when he was little. (Thanks, Grandma McKinstry, for saving it!) I think Dave was kind of proud.

Finally, the kids jumped in the little red truck Mom bought Caleb for his birthday and had a blast.

You've got to have some place to put all those eggs.

Just as much as the egg hunt and the toys, the people that we spent the evening with made it fun.

That night when we got home we were pretty exhausted, but we wanted to go over the story of what Easter was about with Caleb once more to kind of close out the day the way we had started it. After Reid and Hadley were snuggled down for bed, we finally had that opportunity to do so using these:

Dave bought this set of "Resurrection Eggs" at a Christian bookstore near his work earlier last week. Inside each egg is something that has to so with the story of Christ's death and resurrection. They are designed to be used as a visual teaching tool for children.

My husband went through the eggs and the accompanying book with the kids while I was teaching Bible study Tuesday night, and when I got home Caleb reopened them and excitedly told me what each thing meant. He was especially excited about the white egg, which he said was the best one. I loved this because it's empty like the tomb was that morning after the resurrection.

Even just going through them one time, Caleb had picked up all of that information and knew the story by heart. Even more surprisingly, when Dave first brought them home and took them out to show the kids, Caleb said, "I think these eggs have to do with Jesus." He later told me that he learned about them in Sunday school, which meant that he had remembered the lesson they did at church LAST YEAR when he had just barely turned three years old. I was pretty impressed that that Bible lesson had such an impact him him that he had remembered it a year later (especially when he'd forgotten about doing things like riding Thomas the train, which I thought would be more memorable to a kid).

We went through the story a few more times throughout week, but Easter night, we set down for one final run with the eggs to remember once more the reason for our hope. And, while I wish I had caught on camera the first night when he was so super excited about telling me what was in each egg, I did catch a little footage on Easter even though he was pretty wore out from the day: 

Dave ended up buying several more sets for our younger cousins and we handed them out through out the day Sunday. To our delight, everyone was pretty excited about them too, so I hope that rather than just kites and egg hunts these will become a tradition too. Helping fill the hearts and minds of the next generation not with just the happiness of Easter treats but with the joy of Jesus.