Hard grace

Anniversaries are hard.

It's July. We're creeping up on the first anniversary of Kris's death on July 24, 2017. Kris, my oldest  child, who died from ALS last summer at the age of 30.

It feels scary to think about walking through July days once again. Like the moment before you step barefoot on hot flagstone pavers or pick your way through shards of glass. Grief and pain that I've let in only by littles in the past year, because that's all I can handle, is rushing at me, like a big wave coming way too far up the beach.

Brace for it? Yield? What will see me through?

Kris's smile in photos Michelle* posted earlier this month on Instagram. His grin at last year's Fourth of July party. He cooked up the idea, invited friends, sat up for it--though not for long. "He didn't eat, drink or barely talk," wrote Michelle. But he wanted to see people. It was the last time those friends would see him. Always up for a playdate, was Kris.

What matters to me as I remember Kris? Caring for people, especially the ones he cared for. Not in the try-to-fix-their-lives style that leaves me overwhelmed and frustrated, but in the standing-by-to-encourage-and-befriend way that was Kris--with the occasional knocking of sense into people--friends, siblings, and, um, mom.

There's the project of finding a cure for ALS and supporting the people who have it, something Kris was passionately engaged in right up to his death. It's an awful disease and if his Gronk's Grace fundraising team can help to bring hope to others, well, that's important and meaningful. It brought hope to him. Eliza* and I and other friends will be at the Les Turner Strike Out ALS Run/Walk on Tuesday, July 17, at Guaranteed Rate Field (really? that's a name for baseball park?). We'll be wearing our Gronk's Grace shirts, keeping up the good fight, remembering Kris's love for events like these and for all the folks who turn out. And yeah, we'll also be remembering Kris's love of the walk on the actual field.

Also this month I'm thinking of the hope and determination, the hard work, the insight, the dedication of Kurt*, getting ready to start medical school. Who knows where that will take him, who he will help, with the memory of his older brother always in his heart?

There's Eliza who says Google in a way that only Kris could imitate. He loved her quirks and worked to make her better at big things, like letting go of boyfriend problems, and little ones, like how to say hard words.

And there's grace in the world. It's hard to find in the headlines, but it's there. Sometimes you have to be in tough straits to see it and know how precious it is. Because it is God's grace, it may be different from what you expect, transformative, yes, but also challenging, hard.

Something to reflect on in this anniversary month.



* Family members: Michelle, Kris's wife; Kurt, younger brother; Eliza, younger sister, who has Down syndrome.