All Things

I've been meaning to write a new post for this blog for awhile but I've been really busy. I wasn't sure what to write about - my youthful obsession with David Letterman, Christmas memories through the years - but tonight I realized what I'd like to share. I love to tell stories, so let me tell you an amazing story.

Five years ago exactly, my youngest sister, Lisa, and I were both pregnant. I was due in the middle of December and she in the middle of January. We were both having girls, and both of us were excited about our Christmas babies. But for Lisa, there was sorrow mixed in with joy.

Nine months earlier, Lisa's husband Ben, a Lieutenant in the Army, had been sent to Iraq at the beginning of the war. Lisa and Ben, only married for a few years, had been living in Germany where Ben was stationed, and had no thoughts of having a baby yet. However, just a week or two after Ben left for Iraq, Lisa found out she was pregnant.

The idea of being alone for the whole nine months - with no guarantee of Ben being able to come back for the baby's birth - was scary and sad for her. But when she told Ben the news they quickly began to get excited.

Lisa called Ben's parents, who lived in the Chicago area, to tell them about the pregnancy. They were excited, too, but had some news of their own. Ben's dad had just been diagnosed with lung cancer and given nine months to live.

A month later, the Army allowed Ben to come back to the US for two weeks and see his father. Lisa flew back here also so they were together for a little bit. They had such mixed emotions; on one hand, they were delighted about the baby. On the other, they were worried about Ben's dad. On top of it all, Ben had to go back to Iraq (specifically, Baghdad), and his life was in danger every day.

As the summer faded into fall, Ben's dad became very ill. Lisa moved back here from Germany because she was finding it difficult to be pregnant and alone. This way she could live with my parents, and be with her in-laws at the hospital. 

By November, Ben's dad had gone into an irreversible coma. The cancer had spread to the base of his brain and there was nothing the doctors could do. He didn't have much longer to live, and Ben had to make a decision: he could only leave Iraq once, for two weeks. Should he come back for his dad's funeral, or for the baby's birth?

As his dad's health declined, Ben decided to come home and see his dad one more time while he was still alive. Ben arrived in the US the week after Christmas. His dad was still in a coma and near death, and a few days after Ben came home, his father passed away.

The family scheduled the funeral for January 4th. On the morning of January 4th, Ben put on his dress blues - his formal Army uniform -  and drove to the funeral home. Lisa was starting to feel contractions (two weeks early) and had my mom take her to the hospital.

As soon as the funeral ended, Ben drove to the hospital and got there in time to witness the birth of their baby, Abigail. Still wearing his dress blues, he held Abby and cried tears of joy and sorrow. As Ben said later, Abby was the rose rising from the ashes, the promise of new life.

Rarely have I seen such a clear picture of the circle of life. Death and birth, so starkly contrasted. Pain and happiness, so tightly mingled. Ben, at the center of this maelstrom, dealt so gracefully with everything that came his way. I have never heard him express any bitterness about missing nine of the most important months in his family's life.

Every year at this time I think about that difficult experience five years ago, and thank God that Ben and Lisa survived their tumultuous year. Ben is no longer with the Army, and he and Lisa recently welcomed another baby girl, Evelyn, into their family under much better circumstances. Where there was grief, there is now healing and acceptance.

I once heard someone say that everyone has a story to tell. This is Ben and Lisa's story, and I am honored to tell it.

Comments

[Renae]

What a touching story. It brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing it.

[Patrick Seton]

That is beautiful and told wonderfully

[Lori]

Thank you, Patrick and Renae. It feels good to write after almost two months off :)

There is so much more to tell - Ben's experiences in Iraq (and later, Afghanistan) could fill an entire book. Maybe he'll write one someday.

Thank you both for stopping by!

[Larry Herring]

Lori,

Very moving. You are a gifted writer. I had a similar story happen this year, though not as dramatic. My dad passed away this year on August 28. My son (our third child, my dad's 8th grandchild) was born on Oct 7th.

Great to see you are doing well. Do you have a facebook profile? Email me.

Larry

[Phil Hoover]

You won't remember me, even if you saw me...but I'm a member of The Moody Church.

Your father is one of the most wonderful people I've ever known, and a truly GREAT pastor.

I am saddened to hear of your Grandfather Lutzer's passing, but he is now rejoicing in the portals of glory.

[Ann Smarty]

What a touching story, Lory. I was crying when I was reading the second part of it. I am still in a too sentimental period of my life after the birth of my own baby. Thank you so much.