Aiming Arrows
How to draw the arrow back on our lives to aim towards positive mental health and find purpose in our pain.
As The Corn Grows Tall
Everyone knows there are 4 seasons in the year, Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall. Everyone who knows me knows Fall has always been my favorite season each year. I’m not sure if my love of fall is because the cooler weather and crisp air allows me to pull out cozy sweaters and boots or if its my love of the color orange that shows through pumpkins, gourds and fall leaves. Either way, fall always has a way of swooning me by the cool air that picks me up, wraps me in a blanket and brings me into the comfort of the season.
Though the lovely fall season doesn’t start until later in September there is, in my life, a 5th season. This season begins every year on July 29th and typically ends by the time Fall actually begins. July 29th is such a blessed day to me personally, but a sad day to an unknown family. July 29th is the day my family received the news that saved my moms life. It was the day we received a call from Cleveland Clinic saying my mom’s 8 month wait on the lung transplant list was over, they had a single lung that would be a good fit. My moms battle with emphysema and copd landed her on the famous list of needing a double lung transplant. However, that call we first received was for a single lung only. They asked if my mom wanted to make the trip for a single lung, or wanted to wait for another time when they were certain to have two viable lungs to fit her body. Because at the time my mom could’t walk more than 6-8 feet with out stopping to try to catch her breath, she said yes; one good lung would be better than two bad. So as my sisters and I said goodbye to everyone who had gathered to celebrate our families’ July birthdays, we made the well-known trip to Cleveland.
After registering and waiting in the room with my mom while all the tests were ran, we received the news that in fact, mom would be receiving two lungs. Though instant gratitude filled our hearts, we were also saddened for a family who had lost a loved one and now battling grief.
Mom’s journey would be a long one. After her surgery took place on July 30th, 2007 she had to remain close in proximity to Cleveland Clinic for a minimum of two weeks. Then she could return home with frequent monthly visits to the clinic. My mom is a fighter, a strong-spirited, won’t let anyone get in her way kind of person. Because of her dedication, bravery and strong commitment to be with her family, she is still with us today 13 years later. I will forever be thankful to God for allowing us to have faith in Him. Enough faith that when we were thanking him for having one lung, He gave her two. I will also forever be thankful for my mom who fights even at times she doesn’t want to fight any longer. Through bouts of illness, the onset of diabetes and now kidney disease that has brought her to completing dialysis every night in her home, she is still showing she is a fighter and living life as best as she can. I pray that I can live my life with such dedication and diligence as an example for my children.
But this fifth season that begins on July 29th doesn’t necessarily end as joyful as it begins. Five weeks after my moms life-saving surgery, during the beautiful month of September, my dad walked into her home for his last time. I was glad I could be there to see him and thank him as he handed me my birthday card staying for only a short time before walking out. My mom and dad were no longer married, but had a civil relationship that allowed for family gatherings to include them both. Little did we know that in the last five weeks and I’m sure for much longer than that, my dad had been battling depression and thoughts of suicide. That following week, on Monday September 10th, 2007 my dad completed suicide. My dad took his own life, 6 weeks after the day my mom received new life.
I remember the day all too well. As we were waiting for the police to surround my dads house to see why he pushed his girlfriend out and grabbed his gun, I was feeling anxious. I was standing just outside, down the road at my brothers house in the country. As we watched, over the soybean field between the two homes the police took action. My strong-spirited, won’t let anyone get in her way personality I adopted from my mom took over. I couldn’t wait any longer and began walking towards his house. I chose to walk on the side of the country road, in the corn field where the first 10 rows had been removed for silage for farm animals. As I took each step, my boots pushed down the shortened corn stalks crunching beneath my feet. I could smell that cool crisp air that told me fall was near. As I walked in the corn field amidst the silence in my head and yet rushing thoughts of not knowing what was happening, a police officer spotted me. As I met him in the middle of the road, he told me the news my dad didn’t make it. The news took over my entire body as my knees buckled and I fell, down into the officer. He held me up saying he was sorry, but my dad took his own life.
So this season that I currently find myself in, brings many waves of emotion. I am praying for an unknown family who lost a loved one so my mom could breath; thanking God for giving my children a chance to know their grandmother. But then I enter a time of quiet solitude. A time that almost feels like life stands still, but the corn keeps growing. As the corn changes from summer green to fall yellow I can hear the crunching sound again. Still today, I sometimes wake up from the nightmare of hearing the sound of the combined-cornfield beneath my boots and feeling the bullet-proof vest on the officer who caught me. Living each day from July 29th to September 10th wandering exactly what was going through my dads mind, during that time brings pain and peace all at the same time.
Though there are still times I wish I knew the answer to my questions of why, I can say today because of the path God put me in through my grief, I am thankful for the journey. For it is this journey I learned about faith and grace and mercy. It is because of this journey through the valley that equips me to respond to a L.O.S.S call as a 1st responder to the scene of a suicide. It is this journey that allows me to sit in the presence of a hurting soul bereaved by suicide, looking into their eyes to say, “the corn will still be standing tall tomorrow, and if you take it one step at a time, you will be too”.
Sometimes this extra season is harder than others. Sometimes I will take a walk on a sunny late summer day and feel the love my dad has for me as the sun hits my face. Other times I see the tassles on the top of the corn forming and the cobs drooping waiting to turn color and be harvested, and realize the time is near. The time I wish I could erase and have my dad back. And just like the echoes of Hank Williams Sr. playing in my dad’s office in my younger days, the Holy Spirit echoes in my mind John 16:22:
So with you, now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.
If you are hurting today, grieving a loved one, know God is our comforter. It says in Deuteronomy 31:8:
The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.
To my beautiful season of fall, I anxiously await your arrival. When you come we will celebrate with long walks in sweaters and boots and drinking pumpkin spice lattes while enjoying the smell of crisp air and the beautiful fall leaves. But until then, I must take this season as God provides, for me to be still listening to the spirit, allowing God to comfort me and watching the corn grow tall. For when you come Oh Fall, I will be standing tall too.
One Comment on “As The Corn Grows Tall”
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Aiming Arrows 
Nothing is wasted in God’s economy. Your painful journey while supporting your loved ones around you has become a bridge to helping others. Peace to you now as you march on to your next season.
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