Landscape

For more than seven months now I've had rungs to cling to, pulling me along, guiding, leading.  All the benchmarks of what should have been a pivotal time in Phoebe's life.  Fixed hard on the calendar, they would have happened ...classes ended, exams, events ...graduation.  Yesterday would have been her party.  Instead, it was Owen's ...not a bad twist.  For years, Phoebe, to the good or bad, played a key role in the personality and energy of our home.  Phoebe didn't 'go along to get along'.  Phoebe just went.  Often, it coincided nicely with everyone. Often she led us, directed all of us ...where the Christmas tree should go, what time to eat, what to bring to the beach.  I don't offer that as a negative ....she was just a natural leader along with being the oldest daughter of a decent sized family.  If you've ever seen the movie "The Fighting Sullivans," recall the daughter.  She was a bit silent in the movie as I recall, but there is one scene that made us all laugh and think of Phoebe.  The boys are too slow coming down for breakfast one morning.  The mother, irritated reprimands them when they finally arrive at the stair landing.  Somewhat sheepishly the band of brothers march their way to kitchen.  With hands on her hips, their sister scowls at them for their rudeness and as the last walks by ....she gives him a really good shove.  She made her mark, took her place in the reprimand.  That was such a Phoebe move ...so endearing and reliable.  And just like the Sullivans, we too must rebuild our lives after a terrible loss.  And ...we are trying ...really, really trying.
So now, the benchmarks are gone.  We have birthdays to pass through, her one year anniversary, but really, nothing else is certain.  There were no definite plans, no trips to be taken.  I look out over this horizon and I can't see really what might have been.  Sure I can think of many, many different possibilities ...but none of them fixed.
I have to navigate through a different landscape now ....without her ....and without the things that should have been hers.  I am alone.  I miss her.  But I remember sweet moments that offer me some comfort.
One day Phoebe pressured me "Mom, tell me who your favorite child is."  I told her I didn't have a favorite, because I really don't.  I think for most moms, we appreciate different things about different kids at different times. My mother had told me her favorite child was the one giving her the least worry at that particular moment. I get that now.  But Phoebe just kept on me, we were in the car, no escape.  We were all keenly aware of our oldest's departure to the Air Force Academy.  I have a nice easy relationship with him.  We just 'get' each other, our minds work similarly ...our disagreements are not volatile, frustrating.  Phoebe and I had to work at it constantly, while with her dad ...they just clicked.  Words weren't terribly necessary between them, though they did plenty of chatting.  So I assumed, as Phoebe continued to demand I admit my favorite child, she was waiting for me to say Stephen.  Her I was, not looking forward to his leaving ...and he was pleasant, easy going.  I sensed her awareness of my vulnerability, and I assumed her annoyance with me.  Finally, "I know who it is, just tell me" she pleaded and demanded "I know who it is."  I turned to her ...:"who, Phoebe ...who do you think is my favorite child?"  A broad smile widened her face and she tilted her head ..."ME ....I know its me!"  My heart soared ...it was one of the purest moments of my life.   Here she was, my beautiful daughter, constant energy, motion, thinking.  She exhausted me ...not because of conflict, although that was there at times ...but because of her constant living at full speed.  It sounds silly to write that of course I loved her ...sounds trite.  I assumed she would think my favorite was the easiest ...but she knew the value of working hard for something, for someone ...she knew.  And in the joy of that moment, she was indeed my favorite.
I called a friend later that day, one who chases one of her own.  She 'got' my life with Phoebe and ...she simply adored her.  I heard her 'gasp' as I relay the story of the car ride.  Her mind is heading down the same path mine went earlier ..."oh no".  Not because Phoebe wasn't my favorite, but because none of my kids are.  The tapestry of all of them is my favorite.  But we know to a child, in their own minds and hearts they can create something that isn't true or good for them, they can prove to themselves how unloved they are.  I had assumed, and so did my friend, that Phoebe had decided someone particular was my most special child ...and she had.   "What did you do, what did she say?" asked my friend.   "Well,  I asked her who she thought it was,"  I offer.  "She said Stephen, right?"  "No ...she said it was her ....it's Phoebe."  We both laughed and cried long and hard.  How glorious is God to plant in this girl's heart the knowledge of my love for her ...a love that would go to the ends of the earth and back, just for her.  She knew how deeply and fully loved she was.
I have a journey ahead of me.  I am not liking that she is not physically here to be part of that.  Phoebe made a terribly impulsive decision to die.  But in my travel bag, this story is one to nourish me along the way.  I don't wonder if Phoebe knew she was loved.  She knew.  What she did isn't much different from the person who drinks and then drives ...ending up dead, or even worse killing another innocent. It was a fatal choice in a moment of despair.  We all struggle with moments of feeling unloved, alone.  Sometimes the moments are far too long.  For a teenager, far too long can be five minutes.  Scary.  That's another trail of thought to go down one day, but for today as I look out over the horizon, a husband and six kids with me, I don't see her silhouette against the sun.  But I know where she is ...and that's where I'm heading.  And I know, she knows how much I love her.  And I know, as busy as she is right now, working for God, she's waiting. 

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and my perpetual light shine upon her.  May she rest in peace. Amen.