Anna's 1st Day - Then and Today

I stopped teaching elementary school when Anna was born.  In fact, my last teaching day was a Friday.  Labor Day was that Monday.  And Anna was born that Tuesday.  But that break only lasted until Anna started Kindergarten.  I homeschool my children.  I have since September 10, 2001, Anna's first day of Kindergarten.  However, I send them to other teachers for things I know better than to try and teach them (like Chemistry - ugh!)!  

I will not start my official homeschool year until after Labor Day but today is Anna's first day of class.  

It is her first day of her senior year.

That, to me, is so hard to believe.

Because, to me, she is still the little girl I remember starting her first day of preschool.

And because, to me, she is still the little girl that I started teaching in her Kindergarten year way back in September 2001.  

Having already lived and watched as one daughter, Crystol, graduated from high school and having gone through all of the work that comes with getting a daughter into college, moving her in and out of dorms and apartments, and having watched with pride as she completed college, I know what today - Anna's 1st day of her senior year - brings.  

It means I have done my job getting her this far.

But it also means it is the beginning of the end of my time with my daughter.

However, even though she is driving herself to her classes and she is moving further away from me (as it should be in the order of life), my Anna will NEVER be away from the part of my heart that only she occupies.

What I Said At His Dad's Funeral

We formally said good-bye to my father-in-law yesterday.

His funeral was yesterday morning (August 24, 2013).

My Crystol and my Anna sang a song that their grandfather had requested  - Crystol played her guitar for their song.  

Rob and Jim would both have been so, so, so, so, so proud of them.

My sons looked so handsome in their new suits.

Rob and Jim would both have been so, so, so so, so proud of them.

Jim had asked me to speak - so I did.

This is what I said.

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JAMES DAVID SHELTON

A son, a brother, an uncle, a husband, a father, and a grandfather but I knew him as my father-in-law.

I am Janna Shelton, the widow of Jim’s oldest son, Robert.  Jim asked me to speak today.  I told him I would be honored.

I saw Jim for the first time 20 years ago.  I have photos of that day.

I saw Jim for the last time on August 11th.  And after, not before, his directive of “Is anybody recording any of this?” as 5 of his 6 grandchildren were gathered around him (Crystol’s flight had already departed), I have some photos of those last days as well.

My children and I spent 4 days visiting off and on with Jim in his hospital room.  I did not take photos of him during the first 2 days because I didn’t think he would want me to. But I definitely saw things worthy of noting and captured them in my mind.

-What I saw was a grandfather still giving history lessons to his grandchildren.

-What I saw was a grandson massaging his Paw Paw’s back for hours as he processed the fact that his Paw Paw was really going to die.

-What I saw was a grandfather telling his grandchildren stories.

-What I saw was a grandfather devising with his grandson a joke to play on Mick (Jim’s friend) when he arrived that day.

-What I saw was another grandson crying because he wasn’t going to get the chance to make more memories with his Paw Paw.

-What I saw was a grandfather recalling memories for his grandchildren to hear.

-What I saw was a grandfather asking us each night, even as 1:30 a.m. approached, to “stay a while longer.”  And we did, staying one night until 4:30 a.m.

-What I saw was a granddaughter and grandsons who also did not want to separate and leave the room because they knew that each time, it could be the last time.

-What I saw was a grandson asking his grandfather to tell his daddy hello for him when he gets to heaven.

Photographs could not have captured the essence of those moments, even if I had tried.

Those moments just had to be lived       –       and turned into memories.

During those 4 days, knowing that Jim wanted me to speak today, I asked him a few questions.  And he, knowing full well why I was asking and grinning that I was taking notes, cleared his throat and in his best orator’s voice that he could muster with his waning energy level, proceeded to answer in a fashion that any Toastmaster club would be proud to hear.  And each time he spoke, the love he felt for his sons was clearly evident on his face.

My 3 main questions to him were about his children, his 3 sons:

What are your favorite memories of Robert?

What are your favorite memories of Eric?

What are your favorite memories of Bryan?

His immediate, first answer was:  “There are just so many that it’s hard to choose.”

He then went on to answer about Robert.  For his firstborn son, the favorite memories he told me were:

1-      BOTH of the days Robert got married.

2-      My wedding day when Robert officiated

3-      When Robert was about 2 years old swinging the golf club around and I have a picture of him doing that.

4-      Robert coming home from his first date.  He wore a blue suit and he was driving my blue Datsun 240 Z.

5-      Robert driving off with Bryan in my orange Fiat.

6-      And my favorite photo of him was his Kindergarten graduation photo.

He then drifted off to sleep and it was later that evening when he continued, this time about Eric.

For his middle son, Jim said, “Eric and I loved to play mind games.  We would spend hours guessing what number in cards the other was putting down.  But my favorite memory of Eric was him riding his bike like crazy in our back yard.”

It was the next day before he answered me about Bryan.  For his youngest son, his answers were:

1-      My favorite memory of all time with Bryan was going to the Ohio State Rose Bowl with him.  That was a great day.

2-      Bryan’s wedding day

3-      And a dominant memory of Bryan is what could have been a dangerous one.  I flipped him over when I was riding a bike with Bryan on the back.  He came close to hitting a rock.

I am so glad I decided to ask him these questions and based on his reactions, I feel sure he was glad to be able to answer.  And my children and I were blessed to be able to hear about all of those moments that were lived – and turned into memories.

My late husband loved his father and they could spend hours on the phone discussing sports, health, jobs, and all kinds of topics.  I wish I had asked my Rob his favorite memory of his father but I never did and I will not try to guess but I did ask my children.

My Crystol said her favorite memory of her Paw Paw Jim was their mutual respect for each other - that he not only treated her like a granddaughter but also like his friend.  And she loved that he taught her how to play spades.

My Anna said her favorite memory was when she retold for him in person last September her maid of honor speech she delivered at Crystol’s wedding that he was unable to attend.  He told her she could be a Toastmaster.

My Wesley said his favorite memory was when Paw Paw Jim taught him how to play Battleship.  Jim never let anybody win anything on purpose so Wesley was thrilled when he actually beat him not long after being taught to play.

My Luke said his favorite memory is showing Paw Paw Jim the toy Bionicle he built.  My little engineer was proud to show his Paw Paw Jim how he had built it.

My favorite memory would have to be when he first met each of my children but especially when he met Wesley, his first grandson.  He so loved his granddaughters and thought they were so special but when Wesley was born, he was ecstatic that there would be a boy to carry on the Shelton name.  And when Luke followed soon after, Jim told me I had produced “an heir and a spare.”

Carrying on – that is what we have to do now.

Whether or not our last name is Shelton – every one here today is here because of James David Shelton and what he meant to each of us.

And as we move forward without Paw Paw Jim living among us, we will carry with us each of our moments lived with him – our moments turned into our memories.

Crossing The Line - To Friendship - To Lifelong Bonds

I learned the hard way very early on in my late husband’s ministry that there sometimes can be a very fine line between a church member and a true friend...

…and I realized then that there are times when that line is NOT to be crossed…

…which goes against the grain of every part of my personality.

But learn it I did.

And with caution in mind, I forged forward into friendships with many of our parishioners, many of which have helped sustain me in the last couple of years. 

One of those friendships is with Tracey.  She was our parsonage committee chairman at our last church the entire time we lived there so I had lots of conversation with her about the moving-in process before we even met in person. 

And I ended up crossing that line with her.  We became friends.

She came to almost all of my kids’ birthday parties.  She was instrumental in Rob’s ministry the entire time we lived there, serving on various committees and such.  She always came over and helped ready the parsonage for our open houses. 

In short, she was there – for her church, for Rob, for me, and for my children.

And when Rob died, she was there. 

I distinctly remember her tearful eyes and her quivering lips as she stood in my parsonage kitchen and said to me then,

“I cannot imagine what you must be feeling.”

And she did whatever she knew my children or I needed.  When the first Mother’s Day arrived after Rob’s death, she was there to make sure my kids had a gift for me.

In short, she was still there.

And now it is my turn.

On Saturday night, August 17, 2013, sometime in the 8 o’clock p.m. hour, I received a phone call from my former church member and my current friend.

Tracey’s 54 year old husband, Kendall, had died suddenly.  Tracey said, “You are the one person I know who knows exactly how I feel right now.”

The rest of our conversations will remain private but suffice it to say, God is using the nightmare of Rob’s sudden death to still minister to one of his church members and to our friend. 

As I sat in the funeral home yesterday and as I watched her in her kitchen in her house moving about and doing things that had to be done and talking with her family and friends and planning what she wants in the service, the memory of her standing in my parsonage kitchen came rushing back to me.  And oh how I wished now that she did not have to know how I felt then.  Because she does.  She told me.  And as I watched her eyes closely yesterday, I so easily recognized and remembered the utter emptiness that was so overly present in those first 24 hours.  It is agonizing.

Grief is horrible.  There are no short cuts to the process.  It is something that has to be lived.  It is something that is different for every person.  It is a nightmare.

 

But I know her.  She is strong.  She will survive.  And she will even thrive again. 

But it will be a while.

Please pray for her during this “while.”

Another thing hit me yesterday as I was sitting in my friend’s kitchen.  A confirmation of sorts.  Something I’m almost afraid to say out loud but I will due to the fact that because of it, I was so much more able to help my friend yesterday.

I believe (at least right now I do) that the open wounds to my heart and mind caused by Rob’s death have finally closed up and healed.  The wounds have left very jagged scars on every part of my being that will garner attention for the rest of my life but the open wounds seem to be closed.  I can even point to a day when it happened but that’s not something I’m willing to share publicly now – if ever.  But it was a moment when it was as if God was breathing new breath into my being.  It was just a moment in time (when ironically, I was surrounded by other people) that it seemed there was nothing else happening other than what was going on between my God and me.

Because of that healing, I could focus on my friend yesterday, not me.

Because of that healing, I could help her with the very beginning process of “binding up her wounds” without reopening mine.

Because of that healing, I could help her feel her pain without feeling mine.

And because of that healing, for this friend - with whom I crossed that line of church member to friendship to lifelong bonding – I could reassure her that healing, in its own time, would come.

June 29, 1940 - August 13, 2013

James David Shelton

June 29, 1940 - August 13, 2013

Life and Death - Hanging In The Balance

My late husband, Robert Edward, lived for 24 hours after we found him unconscious.

His father, James David, is in his 10 or 11th day after Hospice was called in.

With Rob, we only had 24 short hours with no interaction because he was unconscious.

With my father-in-law, we've had days with much conversation.

With Rob, we got no feedback.

With Jim, we've had lots of history lessons, stories, and memories told.

With Rob, it was all so sudden,

With Jim, we've had some time to adjust.

With Rob, he was my kids' father, "Daddy."

With Jim, he is my kids' grandfather, "Paw Paw Jim."

With Rob, we were minutes away from the hospital and I never left Rob's side.

With Jim, we drove to Sarasota, FL and were able to visit on and off for 4 days.

In Rob's case, we were achingly and desperately wanting to tell him we loved him, say good bye... 

...AND KNOW THAT HE HEARD US.

In Jim's case, we were able to do just that with like responses back from him.

In both cases, death was and will be the most merciful thing for both men 

that I love and have loved.

But for my children and for me, both cases were and are purely heartbreaking.

Farmer's Day - Past and Present

On Friday morning, August 1, 2013, I received a phone call with some news.

News I cannot share on social networking yet.

But it was news that sent my emotions all over the place.

News that set the memories in motion.

What action to take was all that was on my mind as I awaited further updates as the day went on.

But since there was nothing I could do about the situation at hand except pray and wait, I decided to go ahead and go through with our plans for the weekend.

And Farmer's Day 2013 was the plan.

I do not have a hometown.  Not really.  My dad was a preacher so we moved.  As I was growing up, I claimed my mom's hometown as mine no matter where we lived.  And in fact, I was born while my parents were living in that town.  My parents married and moved into the brand new parsonage at Brown's Chapel.  My sister, brother, and I were all born as residents of Robbins.  We moved away when I was 9 months old.  But we visited often and I would stay for weeks at the time during the summers.  And that is when the tradition of Farmer's Day began for me.  I would go "over town" on Friday night, my Grandma Beck would make milk gravy and biscuits on Saturday morning, and then we would go to the horse parade.  I do not remember the first Farmer's Day I attended but I do remember the first time I saved up my money to buy a Farmer's Day t-shirt.  It was black with white writing.  I was in 6th grade.  And the only Farmer's Day I've ever missed since I was a little girl was in 1993.  I had met my future husband that spring and his father flew us down to Florida for a visit and to take a 1 day cruise to the Bahamas.  I had a great time on the 1 day cruise with my fiance, my future stepdaughter and my future father-in-law but I really did miss being at  Farmer's Day.  I have not missed one since then and until Rob died, he did not miss one either unless he had a funeral (he was a preacher).  And since my children moved around too, family traditions were important to maintain.  The weekend of the first Saturday in August of every year is always set aside for Farmer's Day and family - and I sure do miss my grandma's milk gravy.

FARMER'S DAY 2013

Since we now live near this town and we attend a church in this town, we sure do know a lot more people here than we used to.  From the moment we stepped out of the car, we were saying hello to people we know.  One of my sons said to me, "Mama, it's almost like we really belong here now."  

I met the boyfriend I had as a senior in high school on this curb.  He wasn't from this town.  He was there for Farmer's Day just like I was.  I was standing there with my aunt and my cousin.  He was one of my cousin's baseball coaches.  He stopped to talk to them and that's how we met.  He dumped me on my 18th birthday - after he gave me a pearl necklace.  I always thought he sure could have waited at least one more day so it would not have been on my 18th birthday.  After I married Rob, I told him the story and almost every year at Farmer's Day, he would smile as we went by that spot and say, "Aren't you glad he dumped you?"  

So as we were going by that spot Friday evening, I smiled as I remembered and I said to the boys (Anna was walking around with Casey), "That's where I met my high school boyfriend."  Wesley replied with, "The one who dumped you on your 18th birthday?"  Obviously, he's heard the story over the years! 

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FARMER'S DAYS PAST

 Wendy 

My Grandma Beck is in the bottom left photo on this page and upper right of the next.  They're the only ones of her at Farmer's Day that I could find.  I miss her.

Crystol's first Farmer's Day - 1994.  She's carrying my first cousin, Caleb.

Anna's first Farmer's Day - 1997

Casey and Anna

Wesley's first Farmer's Day - 2000

This is the closest I came to finding photos of Luke's 1st Farmer's Day - I am pregnant with him in this photo.  My photos from 2003-2008 are somewhere that I cannot seem to find since moving this last time.  I will add photos of Luke when I finally find them!  

Anna and Casey over the years

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FARMER'S DAY 2009

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FARMER'S DAY 2010

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FARMER'S DAY 2011

Our last Farmer's Day with my Rob.  Our last one as a complete family.  Rob died 6 weeks later. 

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 FARMER'S DAY 2012

Our first Farmer's Day without Rob.  It was so difficult.  We missed him so.  It helped that baby Mason was with us.  It was his very first Farmer's Day.  It was fun to watch him watch the horses go by in the parade.

My kids think it's great that we are related to the wagon master, Odell Hussey.

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Farmer's Day is a tradition I plan to honor for a long time to come!