Kristi Lynn's 50th

 My 50th

It’s late at night…actually early morning. And I can’t stop thinking about things. So many thoughts have been clouding my head and I decided it was time to write.

 

I am planning my 50^th birthday party for the end of March. Almost every time it comes to mind I am reminded of Cherie’s 50^th.  She wanted to make such a big deal of it. There were so many things that had to be “just right”. She definitely wanted lights strung everywhere. She wanted all her friends there and she wanted all of them to feel welcome. With so many ideas, and a very limited budget, we decided that a potluck at the park would be the best option. We planned the party a little later in May so my kids would be home from college…Cherie wanted my oldest son and my daughter to sing together for the background music. She loved their voices and wanted to share them with all her friends. She was also counting on the sound system expertise of my second son to make it all happen! Well, it all happened and it was a wonderful night for her! And then, 6 months later, we found out she would only be 51 when she would pass from this life on earth.

Yesterday, I was at my parents’ house, and my dad pointed out that Linda Bale had dropped off the jars and candles that were used for Cherie’s 50^th birthday party. They were for me to take home and use for my own 50^th birthday party. I was numb when I looked at the boxes. I loaded them in my car and thought nothing of it. Now that I’m actually planning my own party, I find myself not wanting to open those boxes! Every gesture of pulling them from the boxes will pull at my heartstrings as I think of how important those jars of light were to Cherie.

 

And now I find myself wanting to plan my own 50^th party, with the best music, the best food, and all of my friends! I understand how important it was to her because now it’s important to me! When I look back at that celebration, I can only hope that she felt special on that day because she would only have one more birthday to celebrate on earth. I hoped that her 50^th was as special as she had wanted it to be.

 

I realized yesterday that there are two things at work in my heart and mind:

 

1).  I will be turning 50 at the end of March, just as my sister did 3 years ago. She was already having symptoms of her cancer.

2). My best friend has breast cancer… and today I realized, when she texted me how she’s losing clumps of her hair because of her treatment, that I am not really that far removed from my sister’s life in 2018, 3 years ago, when she learned of her own cancer.

 

I’ve been helping my parents decorate their new home. Every time I really think about it, I laugh. Cherie was the decorator…and she definitely would let us all know if she thought something looked horrible! Sometimes I wonder what Cherie would think of the choices we have made to decorate mom and dad’s new place. I’m sure she would have many words for the things we have chosen…maybe good, maybe bad. It doesn’t matter now, but I sure do wonder! I find myself asking in my head, “Would Cherie think this is the best thing to decorate mom and dad’s new place?” Usually the answer is no. I just can’t seem to find that excellent piece of art that my parents and Cherie would love every time they looked at it. But, when I think about it, I know that the perfect piece will reveal itself when I remind myself that Cherie doesn’t have to approve anymore. That is scary, but real. Her taste was unique, but true to herself. I want my mom and dad to find that perfect piece that will touch their hearts every time they look at it. I want them to love what they hang on their walls, just as Cherie did, in every way.

 

Now that my best friend has cancer and is going through treatment, I remember, almost daily, that many things in this life just don’t matter. I want my friend to live life and love it. I don’t care if the neighbor dog behind us is barking or if my car needs a wash or even if my mascara is smeared. In fact, I really don’t care what kind of food I serve at my 50^th, as long as she can be there. I’m trying to make it special because I know Cherie would have wanted it that way, but I find that I’m trying to make it special just to spend some precious moments with my friend, next to the jars of light that were at Cherie’s 50^th birthday.

The Yard Sale...and friends

 

November 29, 2020

 

The Yard Sale and friends

 

I never understood why Cherie didn’t want to spend her last Thanksgiving with me in 2018. She had told me she decided not to join the family. I still don’t know what she did for Thanksgiving that year, but I remember telling her that she needed to come to Thanksgiving with our family and mom and dad because “what if this would be mom or dad’s last Thanksgiving with us?!” I begged her to join our family in Phoenix, but she had made up her mind. Looking back, I strongly believe that the cancer (which she didn’t know she had yet) was affecting her brain and decisions she was making. It was shortly after Thanksgiving 2018 that I got a call from my dad at 2:00am, saying that Cherie had a mass in her colon. I was overwhelmed, thinking it wasn’t mom and dad that wouldn’t experience another Thanksgiving with our family…it was Cherie. Her death on October 18, 2019, cut her short of spending another Thanksgiving with me and my family. Her absence was noticeable…she was the table decorator. She would use her pressed fall leaves from previous years and whatever beautiful Fall decorations she had stored away to decorate our table each Thanksgiving we were together. I was busy in the kitchen, preparing food. Cherie’s most important task each Thanksgiving day was to make the table beautiful. Last Thanksgiving, the one right after Cherie’s passing, we all noticed the absence of her thoughtful decorations. This year, my daughter, Cosette, filled her shoes and prepared a beautiful table for us to enjoy our meal. It warmed my heart.

 

Many of you know that my parents have moved and are selling their house they’ve lived in for almost 30 years. Selling their house meant selling Cherie’s cottage, which many have visited through the years. You’ve seen her beautiful household decorations that spoke of her creativity and her personality. Her “cottage” was so charming. The reality of clearing it out, selling most of her belongings, was not real until a couple of weeks ago when my parents had their “moving sale”. I watched, mostly numb, as her household dishes, hat boxes, and decorative wall hangings disappeared, passed on to a happy buyer, to become part of a new home. My parents had to go through 30 years of their own belongings, as well. Many items went into the yard sale. Many of those items invoked vivid memories in my mind. There were bedspreads Cherie and I had used through the years, cameras that had belonged to my grandparents at one point, a giant pot used for canning through the years, many tools of my dad’s, an old stereo of Cherie’s, some of her hat boxes, and various items from her cottage. I had to remove myself from my feelings, from my many memories that ran through my head with certain items for sale on the tables before me. I was strong enough to make it through that day with only a few tears. The emotions were overwhelming.

 

The best thing about that day was watching my parents’ friends. Most are in their 70’s. Many had shown up to help at the yard sale. Some put signs out, others helped with taking money, still others were there for moral support. These friends that gave so much of their time for my parents were inspiring for my heart. They were there at 6am, with smiling faces and coffee in hand. These were couples that had been a part of the Gray family for more than 40 years. They were true friends of my parents. They have all loved and supported each other through the years. My husband and I have been witnesses of watching my parents’ friends come beside them these last 2 years, even for the yard sale! My heart was warmed. Watching their love for one another brought specific friends of my husband and mine to mind, giving me a sense of hope because of a strong bond that has developed with so many through our years. As their faces enveloped my mind, I knew EXACTLY who would be there for us in our old age, through thick and thin and trying times that may lie ahead of our years on this earth. The beauty of God’s people coming together to form life long friendships was something that struck me on that yard sale day. I thanked God for those He has placed in our lives that will continue to be a shoulder to lean on and, perhaps, an early riser at our future yard sale, when we are having to downsize in our later years.

 

The family of God and the friends that He gives us are a testimony to His everlasting kindness and undeserved blessings in our lives. The example set by my parents’ friends has been meaningful, causing me to look ahead and praise our God for the friends he has given the Kinney family that have been, and will be, at our side for many years to come.

 

To the lifelong friends that are true and loving encouragers to my parents…Thank you. Your example in the real ways that you love them has been evident in so many ways. Thank you for giving of your lives, your time, your laughter and your tears. These things will live on. Your support has been encouraging in ways that will affect the life of my own family and close friends for many years to come.

Calendar Year

Calendar Year

 

Last January, when I bought my 2020 old fashioned paper Calendar, I sat down to transfer dates of birthdays, write new events, and reminisce on the events from 2019. It takes just a short amount of time to look at last year’s birthdays and gatherings of all different sorts, but I always do it alone, when it’s just me. My paper calendar becomes a personal reflection of how God has worked in my life the previous year. I find myself laughing, sighing and remembering.

 

This time, I took a deep breath when I turned the calendar to May. It seems just like a few months ago that we celebrated Cherie’s 50^th birthday. This past May would have been 52. When she passed she was 51 years young. What will my life look like at 51? I continued along in my calendar, flipping each page to another month. June 2019 was such a full month, so much going on with the wedding and graduations. I started counting…how many more months did Cherie have on earth after June of 2019? The answer is 3 and ½ months. It was impossible to know last June how much longer Cherie would be with us, but she made it through all of the hot summer and into the Fall, her most cherished time of the year. When I turned the pages to October I began to recount the last week of her life. It’s that last week that always gets me in the heart, makes me breathe deep, sigh, and start writing on the square of October 18^th:  CHERIE’S DEATH ONE YEAR AGO. The words were surreal. That day I wondered what it would be like for me and mom and dad on the first anniversary of her death. No words.

 

In May of this year we spread her ashes and tears were shed. I missed her, the old Cherie, the one that wasn’t sick and in pain. There was a sense of finality, just as I felt the day of her death. I decided not to write the spreading of the ashes on my calendar. That will be a moment I keep in my heart, not on paper.

 

Today was the Lord’s Day. It was also the first anniversary of Cherie’s death. Most importantly, though, it was the Lord’s Day; a day set aside to worship our Maker, the Giver of Life. Today would have been way different if it wasn’t Sunday. Today I got to cry on the shoulders of friends because we were together at church. And today, as I sang songs of praise to God, hope was present. In His timing, the first anniversary of Cherie’s death was on a Sunday. That was truly a gift from God. On a day when my heart is heavy, God is faithful. As the tears fell, I was singing. It was a good place to be.

 

July 2020 late night thoughts

July 12, 2020

This time last year I remember my parents dropped off Cherie at a cabin up in northern Arizona. Kids camp had been in late June last summer and it was a difficult time for Cherie. I think that this time last summer was when she had to come to grips with the fact that she was dying. She hadn’t had any time to herself to grieve her own inevitable death in the next few months.

Mom and Dad had planned a trip to Greer, AZ. They dropped Cherie off at the cabin, along with her dog, Gracie. This was the first time Cherie had been alone for an extended amount of time before we found out about her cancer. She had just received her papers to legally pursue medical marijuana, if she so desired. I think it was all soaking in and she needed the time at the cabin to process her earthly life. I remember Cherie telling me that she cried for 2 days straight while she was alone. After her passing, I found notes that she had written, with questions about her cancer and what death would look like for her. She did not know what kind of peril was before her, but I do know that it was evident that she rested in her Heavenly Father to take care of her. She had many lifelong dreams that she decided to let go of in July of 2019. Her 2 days alone, knowing that death was inevitable within the next few months, were vital to her acceptance of her understanding the Father’s love for her, no matter what. After her 2 days alone, several friends joined her at the cabin and cooked for her, brought her healthy snacks, and loved on her. This was very important to her. She loved spending time with these friends that made her feel so special. If you are reading this and you were one of the ones that spent time with Cherie at the cabin last summer…thank you. After Cherie’s passing, I got to meet the family that owned that cabin. I didn’t get to thank them for all those years they opened that cabin to my sister. I knew they had felt loss of their own in the past. Saying words of thank you was too much for me at that time since I knew the deep loss they had experienced. But now, I wish to thank that family for giving respite to Cherie each summer. She loved the pines and she loved that cabin. And last summer, she got to bring Gracie, her faithful companion, with her to the cabin. If you are reading this, sweet family that owns that cabin…thank you.

Looking back, I see that July of 2019 was the beginning of the end for Cherie. Her body was tired. Her strength was weak. June had been a long marathon to endure. I had friends that had died within the past few years that dealt with colon cancer. I knew what Cherie’s body was doing. It was time to try to get her to understand that hospice needed to be a part of her journey. That wouldn’t come to pass until August of 2019, but I am thankful that she took that step. She had 8 weeks that hospice was able to help with her pain. I’m thankful for that, as well.

Now that I’ve seen the emotional toll that COVID has brought into my life, as well as the lives of my friends, I am so thankful for God’s timing for Cherie’s passing to occur last Fall. She would have been heartbroken to have to live through the COVID 2020 regulations of not being able to be with her refugee friends. I believe she may have had to watch her ministry fade, due to our current restrictions. I am thankful that she did not have to deal with the days of COVID. It would have been crippling to her heart and soul. I also can’t help to think that this may have been a time that she and I would have agreed politically! We would have been bosom buddies in making sure that we could still meet with groups of people, despite government regulations. I think we would have been of one mind, rebelling against the notion of staying home and not living life to its fullest. Spending time with others was the story of her life, as is mine. There is no way she would be confined to the walls of her own home. Period. My sister and I were similar in that way. I am thankful that COVID was not an added stress on my sister’s life.

Since Cherie passed, I have had at least 3 others in my life that have either passed from cancer or are undergoing treatment. I have taken meals, prayed many prayers for deliverance, if that be God’s will, and I have felt deep sympathy for those going through their own journey of dealing with the brevity of life. Mostly, I have no words. We all experience the process of watching a loved one go through treatment (or eventually pass on) in a different way. Sometimes there are just no words. There is just resting. Resting in our only Hope.

These days of 2020, I find myself re-living the year 2019 in the context of my sister’s illness. As time goes on, I know the memories of those hard days will pass in my mind and I won’t be able to recall the specifics of watching my sister die slowly. Right now, though, I lay awake at nights or I stare out the window of my house for long moments, re-living 2019. It was many good times. And it was many hard times. I am thankful for the hope that leads me as I continue this walk, despite whatever dark times come my way. But the tears are real. The memories are real. The gladness of rest in my Savior is real.

Without Cherie

Without Cherie…

There are some things that I wonder about…

December 2019…As I flip through family photo albums I am reminded of the fact that, as Cherie as my only sibling, everything is now left to me, to my mind, to remember things as they were when we lived these many memories together. Cherie is not there to dispute. Cherie is not there to laugh or to set me straight. The experiences are as I remember them. WOW…pause…As two sisters growing up very close to each other, how do I possibly convey to my offspring how it all was? How can I get across to my own children how it was such a BIG deal that Cherie and I slept on the bean bag in her room every Christmas Eve so that we could wake up together to see what Santa brought us? That bean bag wasn’t that big, but we made it so that we could sleep side by side, as a team, ready for Christmas day. There were only a few Christmas mornings I remember awakening in DeLeon, Texas, with my Dad’s mom, but most of my Christmas Eve nights as a youngster were on that bean bag in Tucson, with Cherie.

 Looking back, I remember how full my Christmas Eves and Days were for so many years. I was married in the Fall of 1993. I had my husband and his family and there was so much love. Cherie was on the outskirts of all that love. I’m sure that the Christmas of 1993 was very difficult for her as the older sister. Knowing Cherie, she felt in her traditional bones that she should have been the first to marry. I can only imagine now what that Christmas was truly like for her, knowing that she longed to marry and have children of her own. At her memorial service, Anne played a song that Cherie wanted played at her wedding…that song was about God’s faithfulness. I think that was something she had to rest in. Knowing she was at the end of her life, Cherie had to come to grips with the fact that she would not be married or have children of her own in this life on earth. That desire was also a deep longing in my heart for my sister, but God had other plans. Sometimes my thoughts wander to the fact that, had she had a husband and children when we found the cancer, the devastation would have been even stronger. I am thankful that God spared us through the possible grief that could have occurred. How could we know that God’s plan was perfect in all of this, despite our earthly desires for companionship?

December of 2018 was an earth shaker of what we all thought Christmas of December 2018 should look like, whether we had a family of four kids or whether we were leaning on God for whatever was next in our life. The cancer had already made its statement. It was on a road of its own. Upon receiving the news of Cherie’s mass in her colon, I broke down in the kitchen of my home, in front of my husband and my youngest son, Maximus…the son that had been built for things of maximum potential…the one who would decide to make his days count and, in light of Cherie’s passing, would be one of the strongholds for his mom.

Since Cherie’s death, there has been a lot on my mind. My years growing up have been halfway erased. My memories of my childhood fall short in some way, without Cherie’s corroboration. But these things don’t define who I am today. They helped shape who I am, but my everyday life today does not rest on my past. I rest in the fact that Christ knows my sorrow, my suffering. Christ has defined me as a follower of Him, and in Him I rest, knowing that my sorrow and suffering means something. It means something. God is with me in my suffering and my sorrow. Some days it has been painful to try to “move on”. Other days, I rest in God’s faithfulness, no matter what comes my way.

Some have sent notes of prayer and thoughtfulness, especially during this Christmas season. Those notes have meant something to me. The body of Christ cares. I have tangible proof of cards, texts and emails. It has been overwhelming to know that others are thinking of me and of my family and of my parents during this season. A season when so many other things could have consumed their thoughts. Grace abounds. God is faithful. The Lord walks with me through the grief in so many ways, even using His people to heal my heart.

January 19th........It is early Sunday morning, 12:30am. My youngest son, Maximus, will be running his 5^th ½ Marathon later today. Cherie came to Phoenix 3 years ago to watch my oldest and youngest sons run the half marathon together. We have pictures to show that she was there, supporting them in their agony to finish the race! I started missing Cherie Saturday afternoon as I recalled my memory of her being there in my mind.

 I honestly don’t know why, but this overwhelming sense of grief came over me after I visited a Walmart. It was an ordinary day. I was embroidering a pillow case for my new daughter in law most of the morning while listening to a podcast about a Christian man who had been dealing with anxiety for 12 years. Real life hit me. I have a son that deals with anxiety. This man mentioned that he sometimes wished it would go away altogether, but he couldn’t help but  think how God was using his struggle with anxiety to glorify Him….to lean on Him…to know that the Lord is faithful and goes ahead of his struggle. Sometimes he prays for his anxiety to go away, but then he recognizes that God is using his struggle to work out his sanctification; to minister to other believers that struggle with the same disorder as he does. He strives to learn how God uses his anxiety to glorify Himself. He struggles with something that affects his innermost being because he knows his struggles, in the long run, glorify God; his anxiety causes him to lean on God in a most precious way…a way that only someone with the same struggle would understand. He uses his weakness to help others and has even written a book about living with anxiety in a Christian world.

Pierce Taylor Hibbs has written a book called “Struck Down But Not Destroyed - Living Faithfully With Anxiety”.

I intend to purchase this book and read it fervently. I will also purchase a copy for my son, who struggles with anxiety. Mr. Hibbs has lived out many years of trying to understand how to cope with anxiety while living in a community of Christians who believe he just doesn’t have enough faith in God. I was saddened by his real struggle, but encouraged by the fact that he wrote a book to help other believers who are struggling with anxiety. His struggle has gotten easier, but he wonders if God desires for it to ever really go away. It is how he has grown close to God. It is how he has come to understand that his struggle is real and he wants to help other believers understand that they can learn to use their struggle with anxiety to work out their sanctification.

I thought of my struggle with grief as I listened to a podcast by this author I mentioned above. Sometimes I pray that God would take away my memories of Cherie being sick that last week of her life; I pray that I would not remember her struggle of wanting to pass from this earth, her questioning of how long it would take to die because she was ready to go see her Maker. I cannot help but think that my memory recalls her last days in order for me to remember that my life is not my own. Sometimes I pray that God would take the memories of her last week on this earth away from my mind…but then my friend texts me that her dad may be on his last days. Her struggle with the eminent death of her dad is real. And my memory reminds me of the pain, the struggle, of watching someone I love go slowly into the arms of her Redeemer. But just as Mr. Hibbs sometimes prays for his anxiety to be gone forever and then realizes that God gave him that struggle for a reason, I accept the pain and memories of those last days of heartache for my sister in order to understand the grief my close and faithful friend will soon experience in the death of her dad. How else could I really feel her pain without experiencing the pain of death in my own life? As much as I want to pray for the painful last days of my sister’s life to be washed from my memory, God is using it to give me empathy for my most beloved friend who will soon experience the agony of watching her own dad pass from this earth.

I will write more on my struggle with grief. I will share it publicly with all of you, relying on the truth of how I know that God works everything for His glory. For now, I will learn to rest in my grief as I remember the last days of my sweet Cherie living on this earth; because I know that God is using those most difficult memories to empathize with others who are experiencing their own days of grief. To God be the glory.

More Info on Cherie's Memorial

Memorial services for Cherie Gray will be Saturday, November 2, at St. Andrews Presbyterian Church, 7650 N. Paseo del Norte, at 1:00pm, in Tucson. If you are interested and cannot attend, the service will most likely be live streamed on the internet at sapctucson.org (1:00pm Tucson time). Go to the bottom of the church webpage and click on "Live Feed beta" button to watch the live stream.

There is ample parking at the church, at the church next door, at the school across the street, and at the original church building located diagonally across the intersection from the sanctuary.

Cherie's Memorial Service

Cherie's Memorial Service will be on Saturday, November 2nd, at 1:00 pm. The address is written below:

St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church
7650 N Paseo Del Norte,
Tucson, AZ  85704

Parking information will be forthcoming.

In lieu of flowers, the family has asked that donations be made to Tucson Refugee Ministry or that you volunteer for next summer's Kids Kamp.