Dear Friends,
K2P and Katkat and others who stop by,
Thank you so much for remembering us--especially for remembering Jason. It has now been one month since he left us. For me there is concernthat others will just forget him as they go on with their busy lives. I won't get to proudly introduce him to others and say this is my oldest son and list his recent accomplishments. It may be hard on all of us when people ask--how many children do you have or ask the children about how many brothers they have. There will always be that choice--will we/they leave him out as time goes by because they grow tired of saying "my oldest brother died of cancer." and hearing "Oh, I'm so sorry." I hope they don't choose to not mention him.

I thought about not going to church Sunday morning. I had fallen in the garage and hurt my knee. It is still hurting even today. I really knew that I needed to go though because Joshua had spent the night with a friend and I needed to pick him up since, even though David was at Sunday school, he had to leave early to go downtown and referee two soccer games in the afternoon. The Sunday school lesson centered on prayer and the teacher talked about different aspects of prayer--like praise, thankfulness, confession, petition, intercession. I probably talk too much, but I do usually answer some questions. Toward the end of the lesson he asked us what we are thankful for--not many spoke up, people were slow in answering--some said family...friends...jobs... home... everything. I sat there thinking about what has happened and finally said..."It is kind of sad...but I am really thankful that Jason didn't have to suffer any longer the way he suffered those last few days. ...and I'm thankful for all of you and your prayers and all you've done while Jason was sick." Then he said that we have been an inspiration to others and a witness to others through it all.

On my way to get a seat in the church service, someone from an old Sunday school class stopped me in the hall, to ask how we were--and you know the conversation turned to Jason. I'm sorry--it just can't be helped, because when people ask how we are -- well you know they are really asking how we are dealing with the loss of what is most precious to any of us--. He said that he didn't know whether to say anything or not and I said, "You know, Sam, it would be much worse if you just walked by, and just ignored me." So that, of course, led to more conversation and another brotherly hug.

In Sunday morning church, our dear pastor did mention that his kidney transplant is coming up toward the end of October. The kidney disease he has can be hereditary. He received a kidney from his brother about 10 years ago and 10 years is about what a transplant lasts some have said. This time, reluctantly on his part, his daughter is quite willing to give him one of her kidneys--she is a perfect match. How we have prayed for healing here, too and still do, but now we need to be praying that the transplant goes well for both the pastor and his daughter donating her kidney. This is happening just as our church is about to begin another building program. The Whites sang the special song before the service started. Sharon White, Ricky Skaggs' wife, used to be Jenny's first grade Sunday school teacher and we were in a Sunday school class with Ricky Skaggs at that time. Our boys were friends were their son when they were all younger. Back then, I remember when Ricky prayed for you, somehow it was just something extra special and I had so wanted to talk to him and ask him to pray for Jason or even to come to our house and pray for Jason, not that his prayers had any more chance of being answered, but it was in my heart. Ricky is always on the road and we haven't seen their family in what seems like forever. David did buy tickets for us and we went to see their special "A Skaggs Family Christmas" at the Ryman in December and it was really special. We've lived here 10 years and that's the first musical thing I've been to--everything is so expensive. Well, after the service on Sunday I went down to say Hi to them--a lot of people did. Ricky hugged me and I knew from the look in his eyes that he had known about Jason and felt our pain and sorrow. I told Sharon that I had so wanted to talk to them and ask them to pray and she said, "We were praying for him." I guess our old Sunday school teachers had told them. Somehow it is a comfort to know that they were praying for our little boy.

Justin, Joshua, Jenny and I went to church on Sunday night. It has been awhile since we've been at night, with Jason being so sick and then the funeral and the tiredness I feel now. I often just sleep right through it. We used to be so regular on Sunday nights because my husband was the commander (leader) of the AWANA club in our church. AWANA is a non-denominational Bible memory club for children from the age of 2 or 3 up to 12th grade--though the emphasis is mostly on K-3 which is the most active part of the club. It seems harder to get older children to memorize Scripture though they certainly need it, as I see having verses memorized as one of the best ways to resist temptation and the teen years are full of serious choices and temptation. Participation in AWANA drops off significantly after elementary school, even though a small college scholarship is guaranteed to any who finish the last 6 years. Jason was a helper in AWANA. It was an area of ministry for him and I think that he enjoyed it. He kept records for one age group. Then 3-4 years ago our church decided to discontinue AWANA even though it was a successful program. We miss it. Then Jason got sick and everything changed anyway. After Jason became sick, I don't think that David could have kept on being commander.

Anyway, we went to church on Sunday night. David stayed home to rest his weary knees because he'd refereed two adult women's soccer games that afternoon to help out a friend. Sunday night service is more of a youth service now with lots of music--pretty loud--drums--electric guitar--acoustic guitar--a young song leader and young (and very good) preacher. The young preacher who normally speaks wasn't there Sunday night, so one of the high school youth ministers spoke. In fact, Jeremy and his wife Beth are both youth ministers and knew Jason. Jeremy came to me during the opening prayer time to say that he would speak about Jason at the end of his sermon and that Jason's picture would be up on the screen. He spoke first about his own newborn son who is only a few weeks old--about pacing the floor with him, holding him, loving his tiny baby and understanding a bit better about God's love for him and how God wants each of us to climb up in his arms, be held and just rest and be comforted, as his little son went to sleep in his arms as he rocked him in a rocking chair. God is our Abba, Father--our Daddy. As Jeremy spoke about his little boy, his firstborn child, I sat and remembered my little boy, my firstborn child, my Jason, and his first days of life and the love we felt from the beginning and I cried as I remembered. When I got home, David said that if I had called to tell him that Jeremy was going to mention Jason and that he would have come on up, but I would've had to walk out of the service for a moment to call and don't usually do that. In fact, I didn't even think of it.

Jeremy spoke from John 2, about Jesus' first miracle--water to wine at the wedding in Cana. It was a good sermon with an object lesson that Jeremy remembered from when he was a little kid in VBS and the teacher secretly put Kool-Aid in water and turned plain water into Kool-Aid. It was pretty neat listening to this story from a youth minister's unique perspective. I don't really remember how he moved on to talk about Jason. He said that Jason is a hero to him. He spoke about how Jason's faith increased as his body weakened. I've thought of that a lot--it seemed like Jason just became sweeter and sweeter as his days here came to a close. Jeremy and Beth were two of the first people who came to our house the day that Jason died. Jason's dear body was still laying on his bed when they came in the room and prayed with us. Of course, I was crying that day. Above Jason's bed I had taped this verse, "I cried to you for help, O Lord my God, and you healed me...." (it goes on to say "...and you kept me from the grave.") Psalm 30:2. How we had prayed for earthly healing. When Jeremy saw the verse up there that day, he just thought that it was so sad, but Jason really was healed that very day. Jason no longer has cancer. The picture that Jeremy put up on the screen was one of when Jason was completely bald. It was taken by a photographer from a local newspaper last summer when we first learned that he had relapsed. It was on the screen for a long time. Jeremy had already told Justin and I that he would speak about Jason, but I didn't tell Josh and Jenny. I should have told them--especially Jenny. She had tears in her eyes--remembering her strong, brave, kind, big brother. I so seldom have seen her cry for him. Yet I do know that if God grants her a long life, she has many years to remember him and shed tears as I have since my brother died when I was 16. I thanked Jeremy for mentioning Jason and he said that he was honored to be able to.

So that was my Sunday--you see-- I listened to the lesson, I sang the songs, I listened to the pastor --and I remembered Jason throughout the day. And I really don't mind talking about him--remembering--even when the remembering brings tears--because it is so much better than not thinking of him. I have tried to make it so clear to everyone we know that we are open, we want to hear Jason's name mentioned and if any good can come of that--perhaps in a way it will make his life and death seem to make some sense.