Goodbye, I love you

I have been listening to this song by Pax 217 called, "Countin' Down the Days" that is about remembering someone who used to be on earth. You can listen to this song in full athttp://new.music.yahoo.com/pax-217/tracks/countin-down-the-days--7353371. He talks about how he is counting down the days until he can see that person again. Marshall's death and Mason's accident have really made me think about death every day. Whenever I leave some place, I often think about how I am leaving it. "What if I never return? Is this how I would want to leave things? What if I never see this person again? Is this how I would want our relationship to end?" It has also made me think about making the most of the time I have with people. On the week before the accident, I kept telling myself, "Oh, just focus on your school work now because you will get to hang out with Marshall during Thanksgiving break and you can ask him all about Iraq and everything then." Don't ever count on the future. You do not know what God has in store for you. He is the only One we can count on who is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Hug and kiss your loved ones good-bye whenever you leave, whether for a day or a week. Don't leave anything unresolved - you may never get the chance. Appreciate even the not-so-lovely qualities in people because when they are gone you will miss the things that used to annoy you. No one got to say goodbye to Marshall but praise the Lord we will get to say "hello" to him someday.

"I'm gonna see you in a little while ...

when I die I'll see something beautiful ...

I'm countin down, countin down the days ...

now I'm waiting for the day, the day to come ... when I, when I will be with you ...

I know where you went, I know where you are ... I know who you're with cause you're just like Him. ... I'm gonna see you in a little while

echo in me, echo in me

every day every day

that goes by without you

that goes by without you

goodbye, I love you

come and see me sometime

Will found this letter from Marshall while opening up some old boxes. Marshall and Mason used to draw those "jet cars" all the time! It was one of their many obbsessive phases they went through. I still think of him every time I pass that office building near Far West and Mopac that has that bright yellow jet car outside (you can see it on Google Maps). Marshall used to ask Mom and Dad all the time if we could drive by it just so he could look at it. Marshall was actually quite a good artist and was very detailed and exact in his drawings. He liked to draw things on graph paper so that everything could be straight and perfect. He drew all kinds of vehicles most of the time and of course he drew weapons sometimes too. They would often look very realiztic and somehow he know how to make them look like they had just had a fresh coat of paint. We would tell him that he should be a car designer because he would always draw these creative cars. I would love to find some of those drawings - most of them are mixed in with his school notes or math homework. Gosh I miss his uniqueness so much.

A Dream

I have been having a couple vivid dreams lately. It's very rare for me to remember any of my dreams, but this one was so clear.

Marshall had a new car, and it was a light blue Prius! But inside it looked like his MR2 and it was old and tiny inside, with a bunch a school papers scattered in the back. I just remember him showing me the car and opening the driver's door for me to see inside. He was just there, being Marshall. Everything felt so normal. How I long to make this real! How I long to be standing next to him right now, just talking with him, just being "normal"! Seeing his little smirk, asking him questions, listening to his quirky comments ... I know there was more to the dream but I just can't remember any more ... oh I hate forgetting. I hope I dream about him again. Have any of you had dreams about Marshall or loved ones who have died? I remember I had one dream that was so clear soon after the accident ... it was just me and him and we were on this HUGE staircase - I guess the staircase to heaven. He was in a white robe and he was really shining. He said, "Everything is going to be ok." And that was all. I think my mind just made it up but I also beleive that God can use dreams to speak to us, so maybe that was just a reminder that I WILL see Marshall again in heaven someday ... someday soon.

Updated Slideshow Links

On the post from March 31, 2007, I had links to a slideshow I made of Marshall, containing many of the pictures that were displayed at the funeral.  I had to change the host site so the links are now updated.

Click here to see the original post.

Click here to view the folder with the two slideshow files, with mucic (35MB) or without music (13MB).

Heidi

Dehiscence

I have been longing to write on this blog for months. I think about it all the time. But I haven't been able to find words to say. I just have all of these feelings, but I don't have any nice story, or photo, or verse to go along with them in order to help describe them; just unripe feelings.

I was talking with my dear roommate Ursula the other night (or maybe it was day, I loose track) about how I was feeling sad about Marshall stuff again. And she said that she didn't think things are resolved with me. Then a few nights later we talked for hours about the day of the accident and the aftermath. I shared my story, Derek his, and Ursula hers. Everyone has a different story to tell. Where they were when they got the call. What they felt. What they did. How they grieved.

Dedicated men and women of faith say that the hardest times in life were also the best because they brought them closer to God and/or to loved ones. The couples who struggle with infertility talk about how their marriage grew stronger because they had to rely on each other and give it up to God continually. The singles who hurt from broken relationships speak of the wonderful healing God has brought them. The missionary who waited for 5 years before seeing the first fruit declares that God did a great work in him during that time. These are amazing stories and testiments of the work of God. But then I ask myself, why is it that the biggest, hardest, most hurtful and tragic thing that has ever happened to me has not left me feeling closer to God at all? Instead I feel simply numb. I wouldn't say distant from God - I feel like I kept the communication open - but just not as connected as I would expect after such a tragedy.

Dehiscence has two meanings:

One is the gapping or rupture of a wound, like when the two sides won't heal together.
But another is the splitting or bursting of a seed to yield fruit.

Perhaps I feel both at the same time. My heart has been ripped open and won't close up. Somestimes it pretends like it is healed, but then it gets bumped by the very slightest corner and falls all open and bleeding again. But perhaps this will keep happening until it bursts to bear fruit, to yeild some sort of good thing in the mess. God, where is the healing that comes after the wound? There is a scab and it comes off and bleeds but just scabs right back over again. Isn't there something I need to "work through"? What have I learned from Marshall's death? How have I grown closer to You, Lord? Make me understand! Give me some sort of retribution, conclusion, resolution, anything. Do I need to dig deeper, Lord, in order for You to heal me? What am I withholding?

Oh, perhaps I just need to be patient. Perhaps I am rushing the process. I know that there will never be complete healing until Christ Jesus returns for us and rescues us from everything. And then He will "make all things new." I wonder if a new heart comes with my new body. Will I remember all the hurt? Is remembering painful?

Heidi

"'Cause all too soon, the clock will strike midnight, and she'll be gone ..."

I first heard about the death of Steven Curtis Chapman's youngest daughter from Hannah while I was in Florida for her graduation. It was May 22, 18 months to the day after the death of my brother. Because I intimately know the pain the whole family was going through, it was hard for me to go on with the day as usual. I cried for them, thinking of all the emotions they were being bombarded with right then. I wanted to just sit on the carpet of Hannah and Richard's living room for the whole day and sulk. I didn't feel like eating breakfast, or doing anything else that day. How can I just go on with life as if nothing happened? WHY? Why do I have to keep living in this world so full of pain and saddness? I am so tired of it! I am so weary! I can't stand it! My heart aches and aches for the Chapmans. I have too much compassion, it's killing me. I always feel so hurt whenever I hear about anything sad in the world. And there is just too much of it, I can't bear it. I can't get depressed everytime I hear about another soldier killed in Iraq, or the people dying of starvation in Burma/Myanmar because the government won't let aid in, or the Christian families in China whose dads are in prison for preaching the gospel, or the African children inflicted with AIDS, or the Mexican woman who was murdered in her car a few days ago in Austin, or my patients when they lose their baby... there is pain, saddness, wickedness, and death all around me that I would just commit suicide immediately if I really let it all get to me, if I dwelt on all of it. Sometimes I feel like I am being disrespectful by simply going on with life after hearing about such great tradgeties. Someone somewhere is experiencing that undescribable pain and emptyness that I myself have tasted, and I wish no one ever had to feel that.

I know there are many differences in the Chapman's accident and ours, but still, there are a lot of things we could relate to. Her brother was pulling into the driveway in the SUV and he didn't see her. I can't imagine what he must be going through.

"Oh my goodness, and listen to this," Hannah said as she continued reading the news about the Chapmans on the internet. "Oh my goodness. The oldest daughter had just gotten engaged days before the accident."

Wow, hey, kind of like me.

Planned months before his daughter's death, the Cinderella edition of Steven Curtis Chapman's newest album was released on my one year wedding anniversary, May 27.

I have stopped wearing all black every 22nd day of the month, I guess that's progress. There just came a time a few months ago when I didn't feel like I needed to wear it anymore.

I don't know if the grief has gotten any easier or not. Some days I think it has. Other days I think, No, it doesn't get any better. It is exactly the same; there are just longer periods of numbness in between the periods of intense longing and complete aloneness.

Little things continually remind me of him. I pass "Marshall Lane" off Enfield every day on my way to work. There is a doctor at Brackenridge named Kimberly Marshall. Ironic first name since that is Marshall's closest aunt's name (mom's sister Kim). We went to the Lego store at Downtown Disney in Orlando and I could not clear my head the entire time I was in the store of images of Marshall and Mason playing Legos when they were younger. It was pretty much an everyday activity for him. He loved building vehicles especially; anything that could be driven: space ships, race cars, monster trucks, underwater vehicles, tracked-trucks, and lots of other things with wheels and guns. Oh yeah, and I walk by the Travis County Medical Examiner's Office all the time as it is next door to Brackenridge Hospital. I wonder where the pictures of Marshall's body are kept in what file inside. I wonder who works there who has seen my brother's disfigured body. As I pass the white and red vehicles that say "Medical Examiner" on the sides I wonder which one his body came in. Sometimes I imagine simply walking in and asking about him at the front desk. I'm sure that would really go over well. And of course I WORK in the hospital where my brother was lifeflighted in by helicopter and spent two and a half weeks recovering in. I've spent sleepless nights at that hospital not just as a nurse during night shift but as a patient's weary family member. I always give the dads or grandmas extra blankets when they stay the night because I know how uncomfortable those hospital cots are. And how annoying the ticking of the IVs are, and how loud the nurses station is, and how frequently someone comes in the room at night to draw blood or something. Now I'm on the other side, and I guess I am a better nurse for it because I know what people are going through.

Well, I guess I should wrap this up. This blog is so good for venting. But I am committed to making it more than an emotional outlet; it must be a place where I learn truth and announce it as well as my sorrows.

So the reason I do not dwell in depression or stay sulky all the time is because I know something, or Someone, higher than this tiny world. There is something more then us humans just being born and dying. I have been listening to the Psalms when Derek is out of town (his car is so super high tech that it has a CD player ...). I have been overwhelmed with how often the authors of the Psalms praise God for His constant presence and comfort for His people. There is a huge Being out there who deeply cares for all of His people. Not one of them goes unnoticed. He tenderly cares for each one of them.

Psalm 3:8: From the LORD comes deliverance. May your blessing be on your people.

Psalm 4:8: 8 I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.

Psalm 5:11 But let all who take refuge in You be glad; let them ever sing for joy. Spread Your protection over them, that those who love Your name may rejoice in You.
12 For surely, O LORD, You bless the righteous; You surround them with Your favor as with a shield.

Psalm 6:9 The LORD has heard my cry for mercy; the LORD accepts my prayer.
10 All my enemies will be ashamed and dismayed; they will turn back in sudden disgrace.

And pretty much all of Psalm 7:
6 Arise, O LORD, in your anger;
rise up against the rage of my enemies.
Awake, my God; decree justice.
7 Let the assembled peoples gather around You.
Rule over them from on high; 8 let the LORD judge the peoples.
Judge me, O LORD, according to my righteousness,
according to my integrity, O Most High.
9 O righteous God,
who searches minds and hearts,
bring to an end the violence of the wicked
and make the righteous secure.
10 My shield is God Most High,
who saves the upright in heart.
11 God is a righteous judge,
a God who expresses His wrath every day.

Psalm 9:9 The LORD is a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble. …
12 For He who avenges blood remembers; He does not ignore the cry of the afflicted. …
18 But the needy will not always be forgotten, nor the hope of the afflicted ever perish.

Praise the Lord that I do not have to bear the burden of all the pain in this world. God never forgets. He upholds our hope.

Love,
Heidi

Marshall's Memory Book is Online

For those of you who won't have the opportunity to come over and look at the book at the Hagen house, you can view it online at:
http://community.shutterfly.com/gallery/post/start.sfly?postId=/gallery/1/post/GMGDFg5bOGbJoxajyJ7jbA

Heidi

Are you out there?

One thing I still don't understand is how I should feel about my anger about Marshall's death because I feel like I don't have an object to which to direct my anger. So that makes it worse because I don't know why I am angry or who I am angry at. There was no "evil person" intentionally killing him as part of a genocide. Sometimes I wish he would have just died in Iraq because then I could explain it. I would more easily understand that he died for a reason, with purpose. There would be good guys and bad guys. He would have died with honor and bravery. Instead, he was hit by a car and killed in an instant. And I don't even know the people in the other car. I mean, do they even care about us? What must they be thinking? Do they know about our family? Do they know that a boy was killed in the van they hit? Did they watch the news stories? Did they secretly try to find out more information? Are they haunted with guilt? Do they still think about it today? Were they physically hurt? WHY DON'T THEY WANT TO TALK TO US???? I am just dying to know what and who and where they are! I mean, it's like Marshall's death and Mason's injuries are all tragic and everything, but we have talked about our grief, but then there is this huge pink elephant on the highway that NO ONE is talking about! Hello? Do you read this blog? Are you out there? If you're reading this, I love you and want to know if you are okay. I have prayed for you. I heard there was a woman driving with other people (kids?) in the van. I found your Ford emblem buried in the hood of my brother's burnt car. I think I left it there. If you're reading this, I want you to know that we don't blame you AT ALL. Yes, I have anger issues, but not towards you. I don't know what it's towards; it's just there because my brother isn't. God, the controller of this whole universe, destined your van to hit my brothers'. There was a hill. The speed limit is fast. You can't see over the top of that hill to see people turning in to the landfill. You did not kill my brother. Sin did. We will all die one day because of sin, and God says that He takes the righteous away in order to spare them from more evil. So, God used you to spare my brother from evil, not bring it. I hope and pray that that day, November 22, 2007, has drawn you closer to God, and that if I never meet you in this life, then someday I will see you in paradise, with Marshall.

"... no one understands
that the righteous are taken away
to be spared from evil."
-Isaiah 57:1

Notice the date on this photo: Who would have guessed that in one year ... ?

Love,
Heidi

Memory Book

Mom and I have been working on a memory book for Marshall. Some good friends gave us a gift certificate to Shutterfly to make a photo book for Marshall. Using digital photo files, we choose the layout, style, and background for each page and they print and bind the book for us. We are very, very grateful for this gift and it will mean so much to me and my family. It is 81 pages! But we couldn't leave anything out! Come on over to my parents house for a visit and you can look through it. It has been a blessing working with my mom on it. Looking at all of the happy pictures of Marshall growing up with us, it makes me realize how sacred life is. It reminds me of the important things in life like giving time with your family, letting your boys be boys, making rules for your home but allowing them to be broken, taking time to capture the moment, whether it be video, photo, written journal, or memory alone ... I am so grateful for all those times in junior high and high school when I didn't do my homework but instead I played in the backyard with Marshall, Mason, and Madison, you know, doing the usual: building forts, climbing trees, jumping on the trampoline, jumping off sheds, escaping the lava, etc. Then I would wake up at 04:30 to hurriedly finish ... or work through lunch (which was a great excuse for not having to talk to people). Many of the pictures are in the slideshow as well, but there are more in the book. I look forward to looking at it with my family when it comes in.

Love,
Heidi

One Year - part II

After the crash site we went to the grave. There was a cross on his head stone and a little Christmas stocking. The flowers and flag were still there from Memorial Day. The amazing thing was that there was deep, lush green grass on and around his grave and the graves around his. It was so soft and it left imprints from sitting on it. I think someone must have planted it. I think it is very appropriate for our dear Marshall because he always did like grass ... he was the Moose Mower. Because it was so cold, we sat in the van to read scripture. Anyone could read or say anything they had on their heart and mind. I was quiet. I sulked in the back corner of the van. I didn't want to speak and I didn't want anyone to speak to me. I don't know why I get like that sometimes when we go to the gravesite; I just start feeling mad. It's starting to become a pattern.