Category Archives: Remembering

Three Years Ago

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Rather than write a blog about the 3rd anniversary of Nate’s death (Nov. 3), I’ve decided to post the email I sent to my children yesterday.

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Hi, Everyone…

As the 3rd anniversary of Papa’s death arrives again, I’m wondering how you all are doing and would love to hear from you. I know some of you are deeply affected by this date and others may not have even realized what day it was. And that shows how differently we’ve all dealt with (and continue to deal with) our grief. There is no right or wrong way, no assigned finish date.

Each night when I go to sleep I wonder if maybe I might dream about Papa and have a “visit” with him. But there have been only 3 occasions in 3 years when that’s happened, and dream-visits always have to end with the harsh realization that he’s far, far away. He’s completely inaccessible to me, to all of us, and sometimes that still hurts badly.

His absence has increased my longing for heaven and our reunion there. I remember Grandpa Johnson once saying, at the funeral of another good friend of his, “Well, my friends are pretty much gone now.” He outlived all of them, dying at 92, and was well aware that life as he knew it was “narrowing.” More and more of the people he loved had already taken up residence in heaven, and he knew he would go soon, too. But being sure of his salvation, he had a calm, peaceful acceptance of God’s choice of timing.

That timing is sort of mysterious, and often we’ve got lots of questions that never get answers, especially about disease and dying. We get impatient to know the “why’s” but of course God doesn’t owe us any answers. My morning devotional book (by Spurgeon) has a good entry for November 3. Part of it, which I read each year, says: “The Lord will keep his appointments. He never is before his time; he never is behind.” Our instructions are to cooperate with God’s timing on every level, which sometimes includes the deaths of those we love. I don’t know why Papa had to die when he did, but I do know he died on the exact day God had planned for it to happen, for reasons he hasn’t shared with us.

As for me, I’m following the instructions of Isaiah 26:3, “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is fixed on Thee.”  This verse is hanging on our sunroom wall as a good reminder of how to get through stuff. It’s a plaster plaque that came from Grandpa and Grandma’s house.

God has blessed the Nyman family exponentially, both before and after Papa’s death, and according to Scripture, his good gifts will continue. There’s no greater blessing than new life (which includes new life in Christ), and just think of it: 5 new family members born to us in these last 3 years. God has absolutely showered us with goodness!

(BTW, I believe Papa is in on all of it, with a perspective that’s far superior to ours.)

So today we’re remembering, and we all miss him a lot. I have to say I love him more now than I ever did.

Lotsa love to all of you, too!
Mom/Marni/Grandma Midgee/MeeMee

“My soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from Him. I will not be shaken.” (Psalm 62:5-6)

 

Lookout Point

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In August of 1972, Tim Taylor, a 13 year old Boy Scout, hiked alone up a mountain peak in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. He wasn’t technically alone, since his scout troop was down the mountain a ways, enjoying a rest on their 3-day camping trip.

When Tim noticed that his topographical map had no name for that particular peak, he wondered if any human had ever been up there. That’s all it took for him to lace on his hiking boots and go. Once he reached the summit, he marked his milestone by writing a note and folding it into a small metal film canister, tucking it near the base of a massive rock.

One month ago another hiker, maybe just the second person to reach that spot, found the rusted canister, now 40 years old. The note, “looking like it was written yesterday,” said:

“TIM TAYLOR CLIMBED TO THIS PEAK, AUGUST 17, 1972, AGE 13 YEARS. ANYONE FINDING THIS PLEASE WRITE…” In an effort to be thorough he also wrote, “HEIGHT OF PEAK: 12785.”

The 2012 hiking party (a grandfather, son, and grandson) searched for Tim Taylor, now age 53, for over a month. No one at the old address had heard of him, but an article posted on the front page of the local paper jogged the memory of former neighbors and friends, and they notified Tim, who was astounded.

“It’s been a fun week!” Taylor said during an interview. When asked if he’d recently thought about his 1972 note, he said he’d wondered about it, off and on, throughout the years.

Surely as a boy he thought a great deal about the little canister sitting on the mountaintop, sometimes covered with snow, other times baking in the sun. Had anyone found it? Had it blown away? Was it still closed tight? Was the note ok?

Tim had questions, but of course the only one with the answers was God. He had his eye on the canister throughout those years, just as he has his eye on each of us at all times. As my mom used to say, “God keeps the books.” In other words, he’s watching over all parts of his world and all of us, all at once, all the time.

This is good news for people who quietly go about doing the right thing without being noticed. It’s bad news for those who do the bare minimum or act with wrong motives or cause damage. Nothing can be hidden from God, though he does encourage us hide ourselves…. in him.*

So what about Tim Taylor? Today he’s a San Diego County Superior Court Judge, probably writing lots of notes. Though he isn’t ready to retire, I’ll bet when he does, he’ll be lacing up his hiking boots and heading for that unnamed mountain.

* “You [Lord] are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with shouts of deliverance.” (Psalm 32:7)

Nate’s Notes

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Anyone who’s lost someone they love through death is acquainted with the harsh finality of the separation. No new photos of that person, no fresh conversations, no advice or opinions, no notes or cards.

Earlier this week when my Hope Chest revealed a whole bagful of Nate’s handwritten notes that I hadn’t remembered saving, my heart skipped a beat, and I gave the bag a big hug. I believe God led me to those notes to help me develop a spirit of gratitude within my widowhood. In that same spirit, I share a sampling here with you.

Rising by 5:00 am every morning to make his long commute to Chicago’s Loop, Nate and I didn’t connect on workday mornings. Instead his greeting to me was a 3 x 5 card, usually propped against the coffee pot. Despite the financial crucible he was experiencing at the time, a positive tenor flowed through his messages. Reading them from my current position without him, has been inspirational.

(No need to read them all, if you can even read them at all!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s good for each of us to ask, “When my family is disposing of my things, what statements will my life be making?”

If I could choose one theme I’d like them to find, it would be gratitude, and not just gratitude in general, but gratitude to God. I have a long way to go, but Nate’s notes have inspired me in that direction. Maybe I’ll even buy myself a pack of 3 x 5 cards.

“Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good! His faithful love endures forever.” (1 Chronicles 16:34)