Monthly Archives: November 2008

Across the Atlantic – Part Three


“I had just buried my whole family and woke up the next day and thought, ‘What do I do now?’”   To say Andrew was lonely is an understatement.  The morning after the funeral, his friends had to leave and return back to their own lives and families.  Even worse, he worried about his impending future. 

Stacey’s mom and dad helped Andrew move his family’s belongings to his garage.  He explains “I didn’t want throw anything way, but I also could not see things that reminded me of them.  The only things I let remain were Stacey’s clothes in the wardrobe.” 

He chose to not move out of the house fearing he may regret it down the road.  Instead, he had the house redecorated with the hopes of making it more bearable to live in for an extended period.

Andrew sought counseling and support from the non-profit organization, Cruse Bereavement Care.  Cruse provides emotional care and support free of charge to bereaved people, helping them cope with their loss.  Andrew credits much of his ability to move forward to the care and guidance of Cruse.

The counselors at Cruse encouraged Andrew to establish a goal – to find something to aim for.  He soon learned that the local branch of Cruse was in danger of going under due to lack of funding.  In an effort to both find that goal to aim for and raise funds for Cruse, he decided to begin training for a marathon.  Andrew said, “The main reason I committed to running in six months time is that it would mean I would be around to at least the day after the run.”

The training occupied a lot of Andrew’s time.  “It totally consumed my life.”  He was resolved to meet the challenge and determined to even crawl if he had to.  “The training was very therapeutic for me.”  He said that he would listen to music that reminded him of his family as he ran.  It helped him remember what he was running for.  Several of his friends trained for the marathon with him.  They would meet up regularly for runs together in spite of them all living hundreds of miles apart. 

On September 6, 2006, he and his friends finished the Nottingham marathon in an unusual low of 27 degrees for that time of year.  He had sustained an injury 3 weeks before the event on an 18 mile training run and had been advised not to run the race.  “I was going to run even if it meant permanent damage,” he says with a determination I admire him for. 

Supported by many well wishers, 18 ran with him.

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(Andrew is center – number 11436)

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“All of us finished.  Time was unimportant.”  Raising both money and awareness were his primary goals.

The first person he saw as he crossed the finish line was Stacey’s mom.  “We both hugged and broke down.  Then, she looked at me and said, ‘Stacey and the children would be so proud of you.’” 

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Those are words he has never forgotten.  “Those words broke me in the moment, but also gave me a massive lift, knowing I had completed something for them.”  The determination of those who ran was, indeed, a testament to their courage, their resolve, and their hearts – which were with Stacey, Joshua, and Georgia.   “We did it for them,” Andrew says. 

Andrew has ran another marathon since the Nottingham run, raising more than $90,000 for Cruse.  He made sure that half of the money raised was donated to his struggling local branch, which was able to train eleven new counselors because of his efforts.

He has continued to give back to those who helped him through the loss.  He commenced an hour and half talk for the police on how to deal with crash victims.  On September 11, he attended Cantor Fitzgerald offices in London to speak to traders about his experience.    And, he also went on to meet with the houses of Parliament on behalf of Cruse, talking to its members in an effort to raise awareness.  “I think it’s too easy to forget the help we were given when we were in need.”  He did not want this to be the case in his situation.  “Too many people talk a good game but do nothing.”

One thing Andrew has learned in this tragedy is that life as he knew it was over the day he lost Stacey and his children.  He would never be the same.  He says “moving on” was not possible.  But he could move “forward.”  He could not move on and continue life as he knew it.  But, he could move forward. 

And, he has.

Is the pain still there?  Every single day.  “All the days you once looked forward to (birthday, holidays, etc.) suddenly become something you dread,” he said.  He added, “There is no easy way to deal on a day like that.  It’s just pure survival.”  Andrew’s counselor explained to him that his life was like that of an egg.  The egg, once broken in a pan, was his life with Stacey and his children.  The white of the egg expands around the yolk, becoming bigger – filling the pan.  This filling is time.  As more things come into Andrew’s life, the larger that white becomes.  But even as more things help fill that space, the yolk always remains the same.

His life will never be the same.  And, if anyone ever had a right to bury himself in a hole and never come out, it was Andrew. 

He didn’t.

He kept on going.  He moved forward.  And, he forever carries his family with him.

Andrew writes, “It will never be easy.  However I am still the same person, I still like to take the piss [tease] and laugh.  But I am also a lot more sensitive and willing to talk about how I feel.”

How trite I can be in my own life.  I let little things take up space that have no bearing on what really matters.  I quickly forget the brevity of life.  It is but a vapor. 

If you would like, you can donate to Cruse Bereavement Care here.

To be continued…

 

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Across the Atlantic – Part Two


“The days after were a blur,” Andrew recalls.  He spent the next several days communicating with the police on the accident.  Next, making plans for his family’s funeral became his main focus.  He wanted it to be perfect and everything they would have wanted.  He said, “It made me feel I was in control of something, because everything else was out of my control.”

Eight of his friends helped Andrew organize, rotated on staying with him – even for his 3:00AM daily walks.   While making preparations for the funeral, one of his friends visited the local flower shop.  When the florist inquired on what he wanted, his response was, “I don’t know.  I am a man.  But, I want it like Elton John.  I want (insert your own explicative here) flowers everywhere!”

Andrew still laughs about that.  He said during that time, he had never cried more.  But, there were also times, he had never laughed as much.  I believe that laughter is a part of God’s grace.  It helps you push through to the next day – and sometimes, just to the next hour.

The day of the funeral came, and Andrew said, “It was perfect.”  Stacey, Joshua, and Georgia were all three buried together in the same casket – a request Andrew had to get special permission for.  He decided it would be best if he spoke at their funeral.  “I wanted to let people know to not take anything for granted.”

“The detail that was achieved was breathtaking.  When the casket was lowered, I threw rose petals onto the casket, as I did not want the sound of dirt hitting it.  Then, three doves were released at the same time.”

Is it just me?  Or, are you sitting back right now in your comfy chair trying to soak all of this in?  Most of us probably don’t want to go there in our minds.  It’s just too much.  And, there is so much, still, that I take for granted.

You can only imagine the added grief the holidays brought for Andrew.  And, when I think about how one manages to get out of bed the next day, I cannot help but think of the grace of God. 

How often we say, “I can’t imagine….”  And, we can’t.  But, I do know that God gives His grace to us as we need it.  A grief-stricken father has been given more grace than another.  That’s why scripture says, “His grace is sufficient.”  A mother who loses her child has a different measure of grace than a mother who has never experienced such loss.  He gives us the measure of grace we need – as we need it. 

Pictured below are Stacey, Joshua & Georgia Gitsham.

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To be continued…

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Across the Atlantic – Part One


This series of posts will no doubt be the hardest I’ve written thus far.  The subject is difficult.  And, the story is real.  This is the story of my dear friend, Andrew Gitsham.  And, with his permission, I’m telling it to you. 

I’ve known Andrew for more than twenty years.  A true Brit from Worcestershire, England, he came over to the States as a teenager to experience American life for a couple of years.  That is when he became a part of my life and the lives of a few of my friends.  We always enjoyed Andrew – even his British confidence became endearing.  And, the fact that he thinks he speaks “English” while I speak “American” is…..well, let’s just say it’s tolerable.  When he left to go back to England, we kept in touch, albeit infrequently.

I visited him in England in 1994 then again in 1998.  It was my last visit that he introduced me to Stacey.

Stacey was a beautiful girl who stole Andrew’s heart – a feat many of us doubted would happen.  Andrew has always loved life – living it as large as any human being possibly can.  So, settling down just didn’t seem in his blood, if you will.  Much to my surprise, this handsome Englishman finally tied the knot with Stacey in 2001.  On June 27, 2003, they gave birth to Joshua (the namesake of a mutual precious friend who had passed away in 1998.)  Two years later on September 19, 2005, a baby girl made them a family of four.  They named her Georgia – a name reminiscent of Andrew’s time spent there. 

Andrew had become a real, live family man.  And, he could not have been happier.  He could not have been more fulfilled.  But, on December 8, 2005, his life changed forever.

On a Thursday afternoon, Stacey, his two year old son, and his 11 week old baby girl, were all killed when their car burst into flames after having been hit by a truck on England’s A1.  At that moment, everything was taken from him.  In one brief moment, his worst nightmare stared him cold in the face.

I learned of Andrew’s loss three days later.  I remember going out for a family lunch that Sunday afternoon and being filled with grief for him.  I looked across at my own three year old and 1 year old and tried to imagine what that kind of loss feels like. 

But, I couldn’t. 

I don’t think any of us really can.  To even put ourselves there mentally is too much.  Just trying to wrap my brain around that kind of devastation makes me grasp for my own breath.

Shortly after, I finally spoke with Andrew on the phone.  “Dusty, we were so very happy,” I recall him telling me.

The days that followed would not be easy ones.  And, you can imagine the days where he wondered what there was left to strive for.

But, he kept striving anyway.

To be continued…

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I just have to know.


Do you teach your children to say “Yes Ma’am” and “No Sir?” 

Kris and I are strong believers in our children responding to adults in this manner.  I’m learning rather quickly that this form of respect that I grew up practicing is not shared by all other parents.

One mom told me after hearing me correct John Henry on “Yes Ma’am” that such manners were a southern practice.  Are they really?  As a matter of fact, most of the students in John Henry’s class use a simple “Yes” and “No” when responding to their teacher…..most, save John Henry.

I feel that when my children use good manners, they not only exhibit courtesy to others, but they also become aware of their own behavior. 

“Excuse me.”  They have been taught to say this to adults as well as their peers.  It is important that they learn to respect other human beings.

“May I be excused?”  My children never get down from the table without first asking this question.  EVER.

So, am I trying to practice a lost art or are such manners central to various parts of the country?

I just have to know.

What do you teach your children?

“Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others.  If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter which fork you use.”  – Emily Post

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Supergirl turns 4.

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That’s right. Today is little Miss Takle’s 4th birthday.  It seems just like yesterday she was tearing up the runway with this look:

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And, if you look really close….closer….closer.  Right there.  You got it.  You’ll see a little pink pacifier on the counter, or “boppy” as we called it.  Kind of makes me tear up.  Who am I kidding?  A year of the two’s re-do?  I’m just fine, thank you.

Then, there is my favorite one.

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I mean, puh-leese.  Does it get any cuter?

Although she doesn’t know it, Anna takes a lot of heat on mommy’s blog.  From her crimes of fashion to the disclosure of family tales, her life is on display for all thousand ten of my readers. 

So, on Banana Boat’s birthday, I thought it appropriate to share four reasons why I love this pumpkin pie so much.

1.  She is stubborn persistent. 

2.  She is ONE.SMART.COOKIE.  Sight words at 3?  Easy fa sheezy.

3.  FUN-NEE.  She makes me laugh until I cry.  Or almost pee in my pants.  Wait a minute, is that just because I’m getting old?

And, number 4.

She turns my face to hers with her sweet little hands and tells me she loves me.

Happy Birthday Anna Marie Takle.  You make life oh so fun.

 

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He can’t fit inside my box.


I’ve been listening to some Ayiesha Woods lately.  Her song “Big Enough” is one of my favorites.  The song says,

And I don’t wanna box you in
You’ve been doing big things since the world began
Sometimes I just don’t wanna believe
That you’re big enough – but you’re big enough.

I think I like this song, because I relate to it well.  I have those days where I believe that He is able to do anything.  But, to be honest, I don’t function in that daily.  I tend to try to fit Him into my little box.  How quickly I forget the big things He’s already done.  And, there I go doubting that He will do big things again. 

Then, He does.

Again.

And, again.

Because, He’s big enough.

Do you ever try to put God in a box?

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God Bless Barack Obama.


Perhaps, your candidate won.  Or, maybe he didn’t.  This is the not the post I had written for today.  But, I cannot in good conscience post anything else.

It’s 11:26 PM CST, 4 November 2008.  I am sitting up with the television on overflowing with so many different emotions. 

When I picked up John Henry from school today, I told him I needed to go vote.  He said, “John McCain already won!”  The school apparently held a mock election allowing him to circle his choice for president.   Upon hearing the talk of other Kindergarteners, he told me that “Barack Obama is a bad man.”  Later, he told me that another friend told him that “Barack Obama kills babies.”

You can imagine the necessary discussion with my six year old that ensued.  I assured him that Barack Obama was not a bad man.  And, that if elected president, we would pray for him and his family, always speaking blessings. 

So, John Henry sat down and wrote a letter to President Elect Barack Obama.  In that letter, he prayed for him.  “God bless Barack Obama and his family….,” he went on to read to me.  From that point on, he began pulling for Obama in the election.  And, although I was a McCain supporter, I supported my six year old’s choice. 

John Henry watched the polls with me.  He asked questions.  “Can I become president when I grow up?” 

“You can be anything you want.” I said, hearing my own mother’s voice.

“Or, I could be a cooker.  I’m a good cooker, too.”

“Yes, you are.”  I assured him.

What a day for the African-American race.  What a day for African-American mothers who can look at their sons and daughters and say with bold confidence, “You can be anything you want.”

I have read many responses to this country’s newly elected president.  Many are concerned for our country’s direction.  I don’t worry for one second about this great country.  We are a praying nation. 

Today is a day to unite as Americans.  To pray.  To bless  President Elect Barack Obama.  To speak life.  Let’s not forget the power of our words.  And, let’s not forget that God is on the throne. 

And, above all else, let’s teach our children to love one another – not matter what side of the aisle we’re on.

Owe nothing to anyone—except for your obligation to love one another.  Romans 13:8

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There’s a new Takle in the house!


No, not this house.  I do apologize for yesterday’s slack.  But, I have a good excuse.  Really, I do! 

I thought it might be appropriate to blog on the election.  Since, after all, today IS the day.  But, seriously.  Do you really want to see or read any more of the democratic process?  Me either.

Talking ‘bout love is so much sweeter. 

So, let me tell you a little story.

Once upon a time, there were two brothers.

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One found love with yours truly.  (That would be the one on the left.) 

The other, well, we just hoped and prayed he would find that girl.  (That would be the one on the right.)

After much waiting (and wondering), Dr. Takle (you KNOW that’s the one on the right) did just that.  Both boy and girl traveled long roads to find love in each other.  And, this fabulous girl brought with her the most beautiful package.  TWO.PRECIOUS.DAUGHTERS.

She embraced him and all of his medical talk that we usually just nodded our heads to as if we comprehended every single word.  He loved on her with the kind of love you read about.  And, he gave two little girls a safe place to fall, a safe place to be held, and safe place to be loved.

So, the day came (that would be Sunday) for the two to become one.  Tears flowed through the vows.  And, before we knew it, they were a family.

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It was a perfect day. 

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They rode off into the sunset.  And, happy days are sure to follow.

 

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Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Dr. Leiv & Lindsey Takle.  And, their two beautiful daughters, Macie and Bella.

God is good.

See?  I told you I had a good excuse.

Don’t ya just love love?

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