comfort

Love Like Josh

January 12, 2022 by Nancy 53 Comments

I’m not sure I can write about this but it’s become clear that until I do, I won’t be able to write much of anything. Beyond heartbreaking to us was the loss of our grandson, Joshua James Beller, on September 4^th of last year. Josh was born with cerebral palsy and lived to be almost sixteen before he simply didn’t wake up on that sunny, fall morning. It seemed as if God said, “This boy’s had enough and I’m bringing him home.” While we rejoice that Josh is with Jesus and free of his earthly body, the shock and grief of losing him continues to be a part of each day.

It’s so true that grief and relief are close companions. Some days, at unexpected times, it just washes over me that Josh is missing from our family and the tears come. Other days relief springs up, reminding me that he doesn’t have to struggle with his inability to talk or walk anymore.

Joelle and Will at the grand reopening of Wolverine Wake Up

What helped our family so much was the amazing support of the community of Parker, CO. Josh was a sophomore at Chaparral High School there and part of an inspiring group of special needs students. The day before he passed away, he applied for and got a job at the school’s Wolverine Wake Up Coffee Bar. With the help of his language therapist, Josh was able to respond to the interview questions on his computerized “talker.” Since it could also be programmed so Josh could push a button to say, “Hi, I’m Josh, welcome to Wolverine Wake Up,” Josh got the job as greeter! By all reports he came home that day so proud and excited that he had a job.

Word spread rapidly through the school that Josh had passed away. The Significant Special Needs Class decided to wear green T-shirts, the color denoting cerebral palsy, the following Thursday. Soon the whole high school decided to wear green to their ballgames that week to honor Josh. Then one of Chap’s competing high schools, Legend, heard about Josh and they all wore green to their ballgames too!

When Josh’s mom, Joelle, and his older brother, Charlie, went over to the volleyball game that Thursday night, the Chap Superfans began chanting, “Love like Josh! Love like Josh!” and friends of Josh’s twin brother, Will, wore green T-shirts with “Love like Josh” printed on the back. Later more T-shirts and wrist bands saying “Love like Josh” were created and sold in Josh’s memory to raise funds for The Cerebral Palsy Foundation.

Beyond the school, neighbors offered housing to us, brought food, and openly shared their stories of how much Josh meant to them. He inspired all who knew him to be the best they could be because he worked so hard at being the best Josh he could be each and every day. As a friend wrote to us, “Josh developed the fruit of the Spirit in everyone in his family, and that is his legacy” (Galatians 5:22-23). Clearly, that’s so true.

Our favorite photo of Josh with Charlie, taken by Will in 2017

And of course, from the first moment until now, God has been ever present, offering comfort and hope in the midst of our despair. He gifted Joelle with a beautiful vision of Josh in heaven, standing behind a bright light and pointing down while saying, “Mom! This is Him! This is Jesus! He’s right here!” He continues to comfort us every moment of this journey with the peace of God which passeth all understanding (Philippians 4:7 KJV).

I know without a doubt that when I get to heaven a handsome young man is going to walk up to me and say, “Hi, Grancy,” and I’ll know it’s Josh. I’m saving my first dance for him.

We miss you and love you, Josh. And we will do our best to “Love like Josh” the rest of our days.

Friendships and “Furships”

February 26, 2020 by Nancy 20 Comments

How would we get through life without our friends—or the fur friends we love so much? This has been a sad and silent week in our home. We had to say goodbye to our sweet cat, Molly, last week. I never realized how much her meows—with different intonations for each communication—had become such a part of the soundtrack of our lives for the past 16 years until they were gone. The silence is deafening.

Her physical absence is agonizing, too. She’s not by the door asking to go out on the deck. She’s not getting me up to feed her, or sitting on my lap early in the morning as I have my quiet time. (I’ve actually had to set an alarm this week.) She’s not sidling up to my husband Jim for some extra pats in front of the fire, or jumping from his lap to mine and back again as the three of us settle in to watch TV in the evening. She’s simply not here. And we miss our fur friend.

This is when the human friendships we have mean more than ever, however! Those friends with pets, or who have been loved by pets in the past, truly know the pain of losing a fur friend who was part of the rhythm of daily life. The first day Molly was gone a neighbor stopped by with a card, a bottle of wine, and the time to just sit and talk about Molly for a bit. A true friend.

Messages from friends on Facebook were so kind: “My heart breaks for you.” “She was such a sweet kitty.” “I’m so very sorry for your loss.” Please know that I know losing a pet doesn’t compare to losing a sibling, a parent, or a spouse. But it is a loss nonetheless, and it’s so sweet when friends come alongside to acknowledge it. A friend from afar texted, “Many, many of my best friends have had fur, and many of my best memories are of them. I’m sorry you have lost your friend. You’ll have your memories forever.” So true.

Pet therapy from my friend Beth's collie, Maisie, and her fur friend Duchess. — Pet therapy from my friend Beth’s collie, Maisie, and her fur friend Duchess.

The long phone calls that included laughter, the notes and cards that came in the mail, the friend who invited me over for some sympathy licks from her dog, all of it helped this week. And all of it underscored the fact that we need one another.

It didn’t surprise me to read that a new book by science journalist Lydia Denworth, Friendship: The Evolution, Biology, and Extraordinary Power of Life’s Fundamental Bond, includes research proving that friendship is not only good for our emotional health but for our physical health as well. Bottom line: People with at least one good friend tend to live longer, happier lives. No surprise, but good to have the scientific confirmation.

So cherish your human friends and your fur friends—nurture your friendships and your “furships.” Give of yourself generously, and you will be so very blessed in return.

Family Ties

July 30, 2017 by Nancy 24 Comments

Mid-summer brings farmers’ markets, and I can’t visit one without looking for the freshest green beans I can find. Not just because I love fresh green beans, but because of the memory of close family ties they always invoke.

A memory I have of my grandmother feels as if it happened only yesterday. She is sitting on our screened-in back porch with a big silver bowl in her lap and a big brown bag of what we call “string beans” in Tennessee on the table beside her. I am 12, and as I watch her snap, snap, snap I’m lulled by the rhythm of her pace and mesmerized by the sight of her gnarled 90-year-old fingers as she works. The method she used until it was second nature, and which is now second nature to me, involves snapping off each end, peeling down the string, flipping the bean around and giving two quick snaps between your thumb and forefinger. Snap…snap…zip, snap, snap. That’s the string bean symphony.

I remember wondering if the bowl fit perfectly in her lap because it was made to do so, or if her lap had just molded to the shape of the bowl over the years.

On those hot summer afternoons I had my best talks with Granny as I watched her snap. I would occasionally ask a question, knowing it could be quite a few more snaps before I got an answer. My questions were both trivial and monumental, but her answers always seemed profound and comforting.

My grandmother died two days after suffering a stroke on her 90th birthday. Through the years, each time I sit down with a bag of beans to snap I feel tremendously comforted and reassured that everything will be okay. It gives me a feeling of connection that transcends time and location. When my first granddaughter was two and visiting with us, I encouraged her to snap string beans with me. After snapping off each end, I handed the bean to her and told her to break it into little pieces, never dreaming she’d be able to do so without help. Her chubby little hands tightened down on the bean and she twisted it until it snapped. “Ouch!” she said, as if the snapping noise indicated the bean had been hurt. I handed her another bean. “Ouch…ouch,” she exclaimed as she gave it two perfect snaps.

The tears in my eyes as I watched her caught me by surprise. Now a new generation was snapping beans. Ninety-year-old, gnarled fingers…two-year-old, pink, chubby ones…we were all connected. The strings that hold us together can be as simple, and strong, and purposeful as those on the beans. With a lot of “ouch” when they break.

In his book Growing Wise in Family Life, Chuck Swindoll writes, “I know of no realm of life that can provide more companionship in a lonely world or greater feelings of security and purpose in chaotic times than the close ties of a family.” In Psalm 68:6 (NIV) we read, “God sets the lonely in families.” In the day in which we live families are greater gifts than ever. Encourage those you love to remember their family ties and draw strength from them.

If this sounds familiar that’s because it is excerpted in part from my first Back Porch Break newspaper column in 1995! Hope it still brings a smile or a tear–the good kind!