Well, finally this year I did it. After Thanksgiving dinner, on our way home, I had Paul stop at the cemetery so I could look at Ivan's gravestone. This January will mark the 2nd anniversary of his death and I still had not gone out there.
There is something about seeing the name of a loved one on a headstone. Even when you are looking for it, it's like having a blast of cold air hit you in the face. First I noticed his military foot stone. Then the headstone, which already has Rena's name on it (that is almost too much to think about). Then I went around to the back of the headstone and saw the most beautiful part; a beautfiul etching of a couple square dancing. Above it were the words "BEST FRIENDS FOREVER" and below it the names of their 3 children.
Ivan and Rena used to spend their Saturday nights square dancing. As a little girl I was absolutely enthralled with the layers and layers of fabric under Rena's skirts that made up her can-cans. I was delighted when she'd twirl for me and make it stand straight out in a giant circle.
As we were leaving the cemetery, Paul pointed out another headstone and said, "Is that your uncle?" Oh my, I wasn't ready for that one.
I was only 3 when he died. He was married to my Aunt, one of my mom's
younger sisters.
It was a Sunday afternoon and we, as usual were visiting my grandmother, who was dying of cancer. I do not remember much about the day. But I remember being in the yard while everybody said goodbye to CJ and Jim and their two babies. Then I remember utter chaos and adults screaming and running all over the place...
As an aside. Let me just say my mom is the 2nd of 6 kids. She and her two sisters were 7, 9, and 11 when their mom finally had a boy. They sometimes to this day call him "Prince Lloyd" Anyway, those four kids were 5, 12, 14, and 16 when their mother had twins - a boy and a girl - Larry and Loretta. When Larry and Loretta were 12 they moved in with us and my mom raised them like our siblings, but that is a whole other story.
What I remember most about that day is standing frozen and watching while my grandpa carried my aunt Loretta, his 11-year-old daughter, across the yard like a limp rag doll. Her head was hanging backward, she was unconcious and her face was covered in blood. Luckily she ended up being ok.
My aunt and uncle had decided to take Loretta home with them for the day. CJ was 8 months pregnant, their daughter was 2 and their son was 1. As they were pulling out of the driveway, a speeding police car with no sirens or lights ran into the driver's side and smashed the car. Remember this was 1970 - It is safe to assume the babies were not in car seats and the others were not in seat belts. My aunt's husband Jim died 2 days later. The policeman was off duty and was in a hurry to get home. My aunt was left a widow - 8 months pregnant, a 2-year-old and a 1-year-old to raise.
Thus began CJ's trip to Hell and back.
I think I can write about this because I've sat in church and listened to her give her testimony of God's grace and how he saved her from Satan's grip. This is the story she tells.
CJ freely admits to being a Hippy. A Real Live Hippy. She admits to getting caught up in drugs and not caring where she spent the night, or who was watching her 3 babies. She admits to falling for the wrong man and marrying another hippy who was a smooth talker and charismatic but sinful to his very core.
At one point my mom and Rena took her children. Yes, they walked in and took them away from their mother - for their own safety - for 6 weeks until she could pull herself together. My mom had the middle one - he was 18 months old and had started calling my parents mommy and daddy. When CJ came to get him, they had to pry him out of my mom's arms, everyone sobbing. My mom told her at that moment. "Never again. If you bring him back - he is mine for good." The same for the oldest and the youngest, who Rena was caring for.
CJ got herself cleaned up eventually. She became a Christian.
Ironically, people wanted to avoid her after that for awhile because she was so "on fire" with her new faith, she tried to convert everybody she saw, every minute she was with them. We've all been around somebody like that...
Now, though I can't be with her much because she lives out west, I know CJ is a person who just exudes peace. Just being with her - you can feel her peace. You can feel the joy and contentment she has in her life. She has an AURA of joy and contentment around her. She truly knows Grace. She knows, in her words "what it's like to be wretched and then made pure again..." She is not so "in your face" with her faith now, but she is thrilled to tell the Story. The Story of Jesus opening His arms to her after she had been the worst kind of sinner.
I do not envy someobody like CJ who has been to the depths of sin like that. But I do think they truly know the meaning of Grace. We all are given Grace beyond what we deserve, but how many of us truly OWN it? How many of us truly KNOW to the depths of our hearts what a gift it is?
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