September – Again
(Sept 2016)
It is September again.
I love September.
I love being on a mountain top in September, with that crazy
hope that behind every tree is an elk, and every bugle is a bull ready to
charge in to bow range. To hold my
breath for fear of an elk hearing my heartbeat.
To hold my bow at full draw for an eternity waiting for my prey to take
that one – last – step. To be up before
dawn, riding a wheeler and then hiking miles in the pitch dark before
dawn. To walk in the deep, wet grass and
fog on the mountain. Watching the trees
frame the sun rise and the sun set with all glory going to the Creator. To watch the elk in their natural habitat…watch
the cows graze or slowly chew their cud while bedded down for the day. To watch bulls blow snot and snort and scream
and grunt and be majestic and nasty all at the same time. To be so close you can count the eyelashes on
an elk. To spend time in God’s glorious
creation – in HIS mountains – with HIS creatures and to see HIS handiwork upon
all of the earth, and to BE STILL and at one with Him. To hike for miles in the freezing cold of
early mornings and late evening and the heat, dust and dry air of midday,
chasing the elk I hope is there. To
freeze with my bear spray ready and push my back against a tree while a griz
huffs and pops his teeth at me. To be “busted”
mid-step by a mulie doe or a calf elk or a goofy black bear or a dazed coyote. To stretch out on a mountainside in the
sunshine and finally warm up, finally munch on some trail mix or granola bar,
and doze off under the wind in the pines or quakies. To dig out the map and strategize and make a
plan for the evening hunt and be going at it until well after dark, then hiking
and riding all the way back to camp. To
peel my contacts off my eyeballs, run a washcloth around my face, shove a
sandwich or more trail mix in for dinner and crawl into my sleeping bag next to
Rob. To try to sleep through elk bugling around camp in the middle of the night
and to dream of bulls all night before starting over again in just a few short
hours. Oh, yes, I love September in the mountains.
But, here I sit in the back yard, while Rob takes his second
nap of the day inside. And I ponder…I ponder
how things have changed in just one year.
Last September we still tried to hunt. And last year, the guys from hunting camp told
me there is something serious going on with Rob, and that it wasn’t my
imagination.
It is hard to believe it has been a whole year, and it is
hard to believe it has only been one year.
Although, in all honesty, I suppose I had seen this coming for many Septembers. Four years ago yesterday, Rob shot his
Elkhorn bull (2012). I could tell
something wasn’t right. He just wasn’t
the same. I cherished that September because
I feared things would never be the same again.
I clung to all of the good moments of that hunt, even when there were
many moments while we were hunting that led me to believe our future was changed. I thanked God every day for the opportunity
to be out on that hunt with him. I
praised God for each moment. The hunt
was like a marriage retreat and a spiritual retreat rolled into one. We were so blessed. But he just wasn’t the
same.
Due to very warm temperatures and extremely thick smoke, our
afternoon hunts quickly changed from spot and stalk hunting in the mornings to
hunting from a natural blind in the sagebrush by a water source in the evenings.
Rob slept a lot at the water, while I waited for elk and
bears to arrive. I hunkered down in the
sagebrush, guarding over Rob. I would
read 2-3 verses of my camo Bible, then moving only my eyes, scan the surrounding
mountainside. Then repeat and pray. I read and reread most of the New Testament
while sitting behind the sagebrush waiting for something to come get a drink of
water. And Rob slept. And slept.
I prayed for Rob, for our future, for his health, and most of all, that
God’s will would be done. I prayed for
strength and peace to accept the future I somehow knew was coming. I prayed for our kids, our families, our
friends, and for acceptance of God’s will in our lives. And…I was at peace. Peace!
He gave me peace and strength and comfort. Even so, I cherished every moment and tried
to cling to every memory we were making.
I did not want our September to end nor the future to come.
Now, here I sit in the sun and breeze, in the dry September air,
surrounded by a chorus of typical Sunday afternoon sounds of lawn mowers, kids
squealing, dogs barking, cars, trains and airplanes, and I feel grudging
acceptance. So. This is it.
This is my new September now. September in the back yard and not on a
mountain.
We’ve tried a couple of times this September to get Rob out
bowhunting, but it is not the same. It
is a challenge. We spend most of our
time in the truck. We go on short,
fairly level hikes. Even while trying to
sit on water in an evening, he cannot sit still no matter how hard he
tries. His involuntary movements seem
tremendous and huge to me simply because we are trying to remain
motionless. He stumbles and trips. BUT – I am SO grateful for getting him out of
the house. He is happiest on the
mountain, so I gladly take him. I refuse
to leave him home alone and neglected if I can help it. At all costs.
But this afternoon, in the September sun under a whispering quacking
aspen, I long to stand on a mountain, bow in hand, listening to elk talking
around me.
I have always been able to take a lot of time off at work in
September to hunt, while Rob could not get off work. Now, he sits and home during the week and I
am too busy to take time off and hunt with him.
I am grateful for friends willing to take him hunting when I
cannot. Words cannot express my
gratitude for the smiles it brings him.
I watch him get ready for the hunt with bittersweet feelings. He has to make lists for even the most
obvious things. “Bring Bow” Without the lists, he would not remember.
Wow. Things have changed
in one year since our last September.
Everything I was scared of has happened.
I had to sit him down and tell him all of the symptoms he is unaware of having.
We had to decide to get tested.
He lost his job.
We are living without his income.
Appointments were made
Blood was drawn
A positive diagnosis was received in January
We filed for disability and began the long waiting process
We had to tell the kids that 1) dad is dying and 2) they can
have it too
Rob is home all day alone while we are at work and school
BUT...
Our fears and
worries should simply be handed over to God.
Many times, when our greatest fear happens, we realize, it is not so scary. We do not need to fear. God is with us and blessing us through it
all.
AMAZING things have happened this
year. God has richly blessed us.
Rob was fired BEFORE he was diagnosed – so he was able to receive
some unemployment pay
The kids received scholarships to continue to attend their
school
We’ve grown closer as a family
God has given us amazing strength and peace in our weakness
God provides financially – often through the gifts of family
and friends and our church, but in so many ways.
An “anonymous” donor paid the kids’ school lunch balance (I
know who you are and I love you!)
Another “anonymous” person gave us season passes to the
school athletics, so we are able to attend to watch pep band. – again – I know
who you are, and I love you too.
We have been enfolded in the arms of our church and school
community. God’s love shines through all
of them in so many ways.
Some elderly friends of mine from church slip us money on
occasion.
Gifts and meals randomly appear.
SO MANY dear friends are praying for us…and trust me…we can
feel the prayers upholding us and lifting us up through this time.
Rob’s old IRA from a previous job “happens” to be the exact
amount of the pay off balance of our mortgage.
I don’t believe in coincidences.
God set up that retirement account all those years ago fully knowing
exactly what we would need and when. (Although, we need to spread this out over
a few years to avoid raising tax brackets, it will be a huge blessing to not
have a mortgage to pay each month.)
The prayers of many people carry us through each day
Meat is donated to our freezer – so far this year we have received
1 deer, 2 ½ elk, and some 4-H beef and pork.
This not only provides for us, but allows us to share the light of Jesus
by sharing with our neighbors.
An absolute FLOOD of cards have been given with love – Rob keeps
every single one to cherish and re-read.
Friends from a lifetime ago have re-connected and told
stories of how important Rob has been to them.
Like living eulogies, he gets to HEAR how much they care and how much he
means to them.
Some medical offices are not charging us full price. They know he will never get better. They know he will need assistance for the
remainder of his life. Once insurance
runs out for the year, they cover the costs of Rob’s visits.
Good friends and family make sure we can still get in the
woods, whether that means taking Rob hunting (thank you to the moon and back,
John Visser!), or snowmobiling – and digging us out of our many stuck holes
(thank you Mike Kassity and Grandpa Rob!)
Rob gets lots of greetings, pats on the back and handshakes
at church and school functions. It is so
great for him.
My mom cleans my house.
My dad takes Rob to Bible study and lunch.
The kids got to spend time with him this summer.
Heidi and my mom took him on "physical therapy" hikes about once a week over the summer, so he could work on his leg strength, work on his balance, and be out in God's creation.
Rob Sr. comes off the mountain and helps cut up an elk,
bringing a grinder and small smoker for Rob.
That will keep him busy with little projects during the week while he is
home alone.
He was approved for disability benefits! Praise the LORD!
People have dropped off random mechanical projects for him
to fiddle with and stay busy during the long weekdays.
Teachers, staff, administrators, students and other families
from school are an amazing demonstration of God’s love and providence for our
children. They watch over them each day
to make sure they are doing okay. They email
me, call me, meet with me, and help in an untold number of ways and surprises.
Some good Christian men have stepped up and invited Cody on
some hunting excursions because Rob is not able to be “that dad” anymore.
All in all, God is good, and we have been very, very blessed
this year.
This September – is different. It is not the same. It has changed. But it is not bad. It is all good, for we are walking down the
path of HIS choosing, HE goes before us, and the pathway is lined with those
who care for us, encouraging us along.
September.
It is different.
But it is well.
It is well with my soul.
