I currently have just enough time to feel like I need to be doing something but not enough time to really get anything substantial done. So, I thought it would be a good time to update my journal. With the end of the semester approaching, this will likely be my last post before the break for the holidays. I still have a lot of research and paper writing to go, but it is manageable this year.

Two major dates have passed since last I wrote: the first anniversary of my mother's death and Thanksgiving. To honor my mother's passing, Julia bought us each a candle to burn for the day. I thought it was very special that she included herself as having lost someone too. Even though she never knew my mother, I think she burned her candle both in solidarity with me and because she mourns never having met her. Julia is one of the first people to expressed to me that sense of mutual loss for my mother. That day we also looked at more pictures of Mom while I told her stories about the type of woman she was. We went to the battlefield park for a picnic lunch as well. Mom always loved history and picnics so I thought it was a fitting way to honor the day.

Last week was Thanksgiving. I flew to California to be with Tracy and Kevin. While there I got to meet their new dog Mya who is very smart, very athletic, and very sweet. She warmed up to me quickly after a trip to the dog park the first day. It was also good to get the chance to catch up with Tracy while we watched Mya and their house mates' dog Madison run around. A lot has changed in my life since last I saw Tracy. I hope she recognized how much happier I am now. While I was there we also went hiking through the foothills of some of the nearby mountains and took a trip to Venice Beach. For our Thanksgiving meal, Tracy and Kevin had some friends over and we fixed deviled eggs and stuffing the way Mom used to make them. Everything tasted great.

Well, that's about all the time I have to write right now. I'm off to do a group reading of Schleiermacher's Christmas dialogue.

Since last I wrote, things have been going surprisingly well.  Not that I've forgotten the pain of this past year, but I think I'm finally getting to a place where I no longer feel like the world is only acting upon me.  I am finally able to act upon it again too.  Several factors I think have contributed to my change in disposition and have allowed me to break from the burdens of remaining connected to Indiana, or more specifically, my father.  I can now say that I am able to no longer worry about what is going on "Back home...in Indiana," for Indiana is no longer my home.  Though I still think fondly of those friends and corn fields, my place of peace and solace is Princeton, New Jersey.  I do no have to worry about how my place of origin might pressure or control me; it no longer has a hold on me.  My success and wellbeing are not tied to that place.  Barring another tragedy or disaster, I know that I will succeed here.  I have the strength and the ability to thrive because of who I am now, at this moment and in this place, and wherever life takes me into the future.  Therefore, I can put aside all of the manipulations of my father.  I'm no longer playing that game from my past.  I have indeed learned to "make my past my prologue."

And so, since last I wrote, I have begun writing chapter one of my life, not continuing with chapter twenty-four.  My past has shaped me, but it no longer sets the rules.  Everything from my past is merely the preface; understanding it will help you understand my context and my perspective, but it will no longer be the topic of the book which is my life.  Instead, my book has new characters and a new setting.  While certainly some characters from the past remain (and I'm glad they do), their influence will be seen in a new light, some with greater and some with lesser significance I'm sure.

As I've already described, the setting is now Princeton.  My dorm room, the campus, the haphazard windy roads of the boro and township are where I love to rest, wander, and call home.  It's so beautiful here in the Fall.  But now added to my setting is New Brunswick where I am doing my field education placement.  As much as I love Princeton I think working at Elijah's Promise soup kitchen in New Brunswick has giving me a community of people to work with beyond the cloistered campus of the seminary.  And as maddening as Route 1 might seem, It's actually relaxing to go for a drive two days a week, listening to music and thinking to myself.  Driving has always been a good way to clear my head.  I also take pride in thinking how proud Mom would be that I work for a community organization that provides culinary job training and food for those in need.  Working there reminds me of all the Thanksgiving dinners when Mom would invite students to our house who had nowhere else to go for the holiday weekend.

The dominant characters in the book of my life are also changing.  The further my sister and I get from the bonds of our father, the closer we seem to get to one another.  Though the width of this continent separates us, we still talk frequently and encourage each other endlessly in our work.  I am so excited to see her and Kevin and their new dog Mya when I go to their house for Thanksgiving next month.  I also owe so much of my changing thoughts to my friends here in seminary with me.  Once they returned from the summer I quickly began to feel connected to people again, people who knew my life and cared.  Luke and Andrew, and Patrick (when he's not busy saving the world), have been incredible friends, knowing when to ask how I am doing and meaning it deeply, but also knowing when to just let me live as I work toward reconstructing my new reality.  Surprisingly, new students have also been a big help to me because on days when I don't want to think about the past, I can hide in their ignorance of not knowing how bad the last year has really been.  And it's been especially interesting to watch my old friends adjust to what seems like a "new" Stephen, when in fact I'm just finally coming back to my old self.  In a very real sense, everyone is having to learn or relearn who I am, including myself.

Still more exciting news is that I've recently started dating someone.  Her name is Julia and she's a new student at the seminary.  She's from Virginia but went to undergrad near Boston and has taken a few years off to work before starting here.  We've been dating officially for just two weeks as of today, but she's already been an incredible help to me as we come upon the anniversary of my mother's death.  Just this past week, we have spent hours looking at Mom's old photos on my computer.  While I thought she would only care to see the pictures of me when I was a little kid, she asked to see all of Mom's pictures from when she was growing up and in college too.  This was really helpful for me to get the chance to tell stories to Julia about my mom while reflecting over the wonderful woman that Mom was.  Julia and I have also enjoyed walking around Princeton at night talking, going out for ice cream, watching movies, and attempting to go to a New Jersey corn maze twice, but each time it's been rained out.  Needless to say though, Julia is so much fun and has been so helpful to me during this stage of the grieving process.

It's now Reading Week, the halfway point in the Fall Long Term.  Having less classes than last Spring has also helped to give me more time for myself and more time with people which I have certainly needed.  Still, there is much work to be done.  Time to quit writing and get to reading. 

Rather than going into a long discourse about the events of late, I shall instead provide only headlines.  It has been another month of emotional roller coast riding and to say much beyond listing these events might only start the coaster rolling again.  I continue to encourage myself by thinking that surely this ride is coming to an end or at least slowing down.  Hopefully this will finally prove true as I prepare to begin another school year.

The Headlines:
- My father is now engaged and claims to no longer consider himself my father
- I finished summer Greek (the easiest thing I've done all year)
- I was recognized by my home church as a licensed minister (and my father walked out of the service)
- I saw good friends in Indiana and Kentucky
- I visited my Aunt in Tennessee (she told me lots of family stories)
- I had lengthy conversations with a close female friend about remaining close friends
- I enjoyed welcoming old friends back to Princeton as we prepare to start the new school year
- I read a pastoral care book which described common roles children play in family systems theory (I discovered I have been a "standard bearer," and this has helped to explain my sense of lost identity following the dissolution of my family after my mother's death)

About two weeks ago my sister and her husband came to visit me here in Princeton.  It was something I had been anxiously awaiting since they first began planning their summer trip many months ago.  Prior to their visit, summer was moving along at a slow steady pace.  I was playing intramural softball, spending plenty of free time exercising and reading, and enjoying the relaxation which accompanies taking only one class for a change, even if it is Greek.  And so overall, summer was going great; a peaceful utopia after the hardest season of my life.  I was finally able to clear my head, enjoying each day for what it was. 

When Tracy and Kevin were here, those feelings of contentment were enhanced even further.  It was great to have family around again.  Even though they slept on my floor and overfilled my dorm room with their stuff, it was still nice somehow to trip over them in the mornings as I prepared for class.  And it was even better coordinating my days around spending time with them.  I had people to interact with all day everyday.  I had consistent human interaction with people whose daily schedules were intertwined with my own schedule.  I had people whose presence gave me energy, and people with whom I could share ideas, even if we didn't always agree.  Again, I had family!

But shortly after they left, I began slipping into an emotional funk in which I still find myself stuck.  What I have been able to briefly tell those around me is that, in my sister and brother-in-law's absence, I am now missing the presence of a permanent family, a permanent physical presence of dependable people in my life.  This is however, a very brief explanation.  More must be said for others to understand what is going through my head.  I will now try to use what little emotional strength I have retained to honestly describe how weak I feel in my present circumstance.  But where should I begin in describing this circle of seemingly self-defeating self-awareness?

I have learned that, for me, talking about my grief is a "safe" medium for describing my current emotional instability.  Grief is socially acceptable because it stems from being blindsided by a tragedy which one could neither have foreseen nor prevented.  Therefore, my negative emotions are the result of something which has been done to me.  It is not my fault.  I am an innocent bystander, left to pick up the pieces.  Furthermore, I know that I grieve deeply because I loved my mother deeply.  I can more easily bear the burden of grief because in some ways I bear it with honor, a last memorial to my mother's impact on this world.  And for that reason a part of me hopes I will never stop grieving her death.  For all these reasons, grief is a luxury which is socially acceptable to speak of openly.  I doubt I would have had the courage to go to counseling or to rely so heavily on my friends had the origins of my current weakness come from anywhere else.

That being said, I think my current downturn may now be going beyond the immediate loss of my mother, though still drawing closely from its impact.  And Tracy's visit helped to further reveal a hole I have discovered expanding within myself.  A hole that is now harder to discuss because, depending on how I describe it, it can reveal a weakness that could make me sound "needy" or "desperate."  It is the hole of loneliness.

I need a permanent physical presence of people I can depend upon daily in my life.  I need a family.  I need my own family.  Tracy now has that with Kevin, and I am so glad they have each other.  But their visit only helped to confirm what I don't have.  (This is the place where I fear I will lose the sympathy of my readers because now I sound like every other man, "desperate" or "hopelessly romantic."  But I assure you, I am saying something much deeper, something much more meaningful, something much more self-aware than this.)  With my mother dead and my father insulating himself with his insanity, I have no parents.  I am an adult orphan, capable of providing for myself but still needing the company of others who will depend on me and upon whom I can also depend.  The only family I have, from what now feels like my "old" life, from my family of origin, is my sister.  Without her I am alone.  And her leaving Princeton following her visit confirmed those feelings in me.  In no way do I expect her to spend her whole life living near/around me.  She is doing what she is supposed to do.  She is starting her own family.  I am no longer a part of her "immediate" family.  While she has never said this to me, I would expect to now stand among the ranks of our aunt and cousins in her mind.  And this is certainly a noble place to stand.  They are great people, the only people, who I feel kin to besides my sister.  It is perfectly appropriate if Tracy were to now consider me a part of this outer circle of family.  The only problem is, I now have no inner circle.  The outer circle is still invaluable though ultimately not a part of daily life.

Now I've heard the counter argument, "but there are lots of kinds of family."  Certainly some people can have close enough friends that they feel like family.  Trouble is, I don't.  I have always only had seasonal friends.  Growing up, I went to the only elementary school in the county which divided into two middle schools and the only middle school in the county that divided into two high schools.  I then had my college friends and I now have my seminary friends.  But I've never had anyone outside of my immediate family of origin stick with me growing up.  I always dreamed of having the perfect life of Corey Matthews from the TV show Boy Meets World, he had his best friend and his girlfriend by his side from adolescence to adulthood.  I've had neither.  I've never had a family of friends, and as a result I fear I lack the tools to build one now.  I say this not to devalue the great friendships I've had in the past or the friendships I currently have.  Everyone in my life has meant a great deal to me.  I genuinely could not have gotten through this past year without you.  Still, there is a difference between this kind of community support and the closeness of a family which I now lack.

Likely, and I could certainly be wrong, but most men my age have the advantage of being able to rely on their family of origin until they are able to start their own families.  I no longer have that luxury and it genuinely scares me.  How long will I have to plod through life like this, alone?  How will this time of loneliness shape my personality and disposition?  How will I be seen as attractive by my female peers if I try to take steps to find the right woman with whom I would wish to start a family?  In other words, how will I not be seen as simply another "needy guy" competing for their attention?  Or ultimately, how will I ever be truly understood?  I may be preparing for the ministry, but I'm no St. Francis of Assisi.  I cannot only seek to understand others; I need to be understood by others myself.  Or I at least need someone who is willing to invest the time to try to understand me in depth.

Without a close family I have also found my motivation for achieving excellence waning.  When I first decided to come to New Jersey, I looked at it as an adventure.  The boy from average suburban midwestern America was going to go off and conquer new lands to the east in the name of academic greatness.  I was leaving to make my family proud.  And now my closest ties to Indiana have been cut.  There is no family to make proud.  There is no one to "write home" to.  I could succeed or fail and no one would know the difference.  My home church could forget about me easily in a few years with only a few people stopping to think, "Now whatever became of that Hawkins boy?  What was his name again?  Ah well."  And with no one to make proud, there is also now no one to disappoint.  If I left seminary to go live in a trash can, who would know the difference?  I have just survived the academic and emotional fight of my life, and there is no one to tell me they are proud of me for making it through, for not giving up, for not packing up and going home.  (Maybe I would have gone home if there were a home to go back to.  As it is, it is useless to leave to go somewhere else because that place would be just as empty.)  There is no one to tell me that my fight has made a difference to them personally, for there is no one connected to me that closely anymore.  And so I will have to find it within myself to make it through these days ahead.  I'm tired of trying to keep up appearances, especially now that there is no one left to impress.  I no longer care if I am seen as "weak" for I have nothing left to prove.  I say this, not to defy those who are currently in my life but, rather, to free myself from the burden of trying to appear as though I have everything together when I am still very lost, empty, and alone inside.  If you see me smile, you may have caught me on a day when I am stronger.  But don't be fooled, there is still a man in anguish inside who wants desperately to be understood.

Well, I had a nice three week break between Indiana and the beginning of my summer Greek course here at Princeton.  While I still had my independent study to finish, I was able to work at a causal pace.  I finished it the Thursday before Greek started.  That gave me a good three day weekend to myself before the other students arrived.  It's been nice seeing familiar faces as returning students have come back for summer language or field ed, and its also been nice meeting some new folks as well.  The classes are surprisingly small though.  I've also found myself an alternative career in the tour guide business.  I really enjoy showing people around town and telling them what I know of the history of the place as we walk or drive along.

Greek also hasn't been too bad so far.  I've elected to take the class pass/fail.  I think I've earned the right to a little less stress this summer and since I'm not planning to do doctoral work in biblical studies my language grades shouldn't matter.  So far the class has just been review from last Fall but we're already getting close to new stuff I think.

In the afternoons I've also found more time to enjoy being outside.  Playing softball on the seminary team (Spiritual Growth Hormones) has been a lot of fun.  The language classes have also planned Friday afternoon ultimate frisbee, pitting the Greek class against the Hebrew class.  We lost this past Friday but had a great time none the less.  I'm also doing a lot more basketball, weight lifting, and cardio.  Its nice to have the time to exercise again.  I got pretty out of shape with my heavy class load and near depression last semester.  Let's hope I can keep this routine going once the Fall comes around.

I'm also still going to counseling once a month now.  I had been going weekly in the winter and have slowly been decreasing the number of visits.  I think I'm finally back to operational as my old self.  I feel a lot more clearheaded and much less overwhelmed.  This probably has to do with feeling like I'm finally out from under Dad's thumb for the most part and because I've so close now to being caught up academically.  I'm also still meeting in a grief group that I think might be becoming more helpful now because it allows me to share stories to remember Mom and I have a lot more emotional strength now to do so.  But the painful memories are still surprising me when I least expect them.  Just today, I was trying to come up with pneumonic devices for memorizing some of my Greek vocabulary and one reminded me of some of the medical equipment in the hospital with Mom.  Of course my imagination and memory got the best of me and I was not longer studying Greek but the many emotions of my last days with her.  I keep being reminded of the fact that its been so long since I talked to her.

As a result of my time at home I'm also thinking of changing my middle name since it's my dad's first name.  While I'm still able to embrace my last name since it reminds me of Mom and my sister and because so many people call men by there last name's that it feels like a part of me, I can no longer look at my middle name without hating it.  I'm wondering how much trouble it would be to change it legally.  I'd really like to have it changed before I graduate so that it won't be on my diploma.

My sister is also back from India now.  I'm glad she made it back safely and that didn't get too sick while she was there though it does sound like it might have been a difficult environment to adjust to.  I can't wait to see some of her pictures and hear more stories when she and Kevin come to visit in August.  I've already started planning some of the stuff we can do once they are here.

For the first 3 weeks of June I went back to Indiana to check on my dad and spend time with my sister.  As I mentioned in my previous post, just before I left Princeton my sister discovered my dad has been dating a woman from our church.  Neither Tracy or I were pleased to find out how quickly Dad was able to move on from Mom, even though I guess this is common with older men.  This was a point of much controversy when we were staying at his house.  We explained to him that while we were not pleased with the idea we wanted him to be happy.  Therefore, we understood his desire for companionship but we did not want to be a part of it.  However, things went too far for us when Dad repeatedly wanted us to hang out with this new woman and he made several attempts to give Mom's stuff away as a present to this woman. 

One day I was reading on the back porch when Dad walked out of the house with a trash bag.  When I asked him what was in the bag he kept trying to avoid showing it to me.  Evidently it was a pair of dolls Tracy had given to Mom for Christmas several years ago.  While Tracy was okay with Dad having them, I'm not sure that she knew he was planning to give them away to this woman and so I stopped him.  Later that week I tried to explain to him why we were upset by his actions.  His response to me was something to the effect of, "You make me want to buy a 40 acre farm, build a 20 foot fence around it, and surround it with gun turrets!  And you know what, you'd be the first one I'd shoot!"  I told him I hoped he was joking and that I wanted him to apologize to me because I no longer had to stay in a house with someone who was going to talk to me like that.  So he continued to yell at me as I gathered up some things to leave.  Tracy tried to talk some sense into him while I was away but she called me crying at 10:30 that night saying that we had to move everything out of the house immediately.  Thankfully, with the help of the Campbells, Annie, and Ali, we were able to get the essentials out of the house within a few hours.  We spent the first night at the Rayburns and the rest of our time at Annie's apartment.  We are so grateful to have such amazing friends to help us out when we really needed it.  Thank you all so much.  Let me know if there is any way I could return the favor.

While there is still much to worry about with Dad, at least the rest of the time in Indiana was enjoyable without living with him.  Once Kevin arrived, the three of us had a lot of fun hanging out together.  We went to the park several times to throw the baseball and shoot baskets.  We went to Indianapolis one day to see an Indians double header.  We went to see the movie UP, which was really good and surprisingly serious.  And we went swimming with everyone after Tracy and Kevin's wedding celebration in the park.  All in all, it was a good time of relaxing with family and friends.

For Father's Day we did end up taking Dad out for lunch.  It was a pretty awkward experience but I guess I'm glad we did it.  Not much was said and as we watched him walk to his car we weren't sure if we'd ever see him again.  I will likely try to call him on Sundays, but I don't foresee ever going back to that house again while he's alive.  And in September I will need to go back to Indiana to attend my licensing service at the church but I won't be staying with him.

Between now and then I have two more weeks to start and finish my Independent Study on Cultural Diversity in the Early Church.  I'm going to be writing on Tertullian's ideas concerning martyrdom.  Then Greek class starts up.  I'll need to do a little review work between now and then too.  While I'm not looking forward to Greek homework, I'm hoping there will be a good class of new people to meet and that I will have rested enough to have the energy to meet them.

Also, in one week my sister is going to be in India.  I'm excited for her opportunities there before seeing her and Kevin again in August when they come to visit me in Princeton!

As I'd said earlier, May was always an important month for my mother and it proved to be an important time for remembering her too.  For her birthday, I packed my computer and a sandwich and went to a nearby park.  Mom loved parks and we would go there often as a family for picnics.  After exploring the park which was new to me, I took out my computer and clicked through all the pictures Tracy had gotten scanned from Mom's photo albums and many of the pictures I had myself.  Grief is a strange thing however.  When I had the time and I wanted to spend it reflecting over memories of my mother, it did not conjure up great emotion in me this time.  Is it strange to say that I was in many ways disappointed by this?  Sometimes I find myself longing for a grief that is no longer there.  Other times, at the most unexpected moments, it hits me and I cry for what must seem like no good reason to the rest of the world.  Still, my time at the park on my mother's birthday was meaningful and I was glad to have been able to mark the occasion. 

Mother's Day went largely unnoticed, primarily since it was so close to her birthday.  I did, however, remember last year's Mother's Day when Mount Pleasant gave me the day off to spend with Mom.  I never dreamt it would be our last, but I remember that day well.  It was the first day I had felt truly stress free since working at the church.  Instead of worrying about the youth, I was able to attend church with my parents, go out to dinner with them afterwards, and spend a pretty pleasant afternoon and evening with them.  I wish I could have more days like last Mother's Day.  I wish I could spend time with her again.  This Mother's Day several of my friends stopped by my room with cards and gifts to tell me they were thinking about me.  That really meant a lot to me.  Thank you all so much.

Later that week I flew out to California for my sister's wedding.  It was such a good time.  It was great to see the many friends Tracy has and the community she is a part of.  Plus, the ceremony on the beach was incredible.  Tracy asked me to read Mom's favorite passage from Genesis 45 where Joseph forgives his brothers.  I cried through most of the reading.  Jay, Kevin's brother, also was asked to read from their mother's favorite passage and he cried too.  The ceremony covered so many emotions and was inspired by so many different sources who were quoted in the ceremony (i.e. Walt Whitman, Alfred North Whitehead, Iron & Wine, and Rosemary Radford Ruether).  They also wrote their own vows which they divided into three sections: "Care of Self," "Care of Each Other," and "Care of Others and the Earth."  It was so detailed, had so much character, and yet was so simple.  It was the perfect expression of their personalities.  I even showed it off to people here in Princeton who were so impressed they made copies, haha!  I am glad I was able to share that time with them.

The rest of May I spent finishing up work for my Baptist Polity class.  The professor assigned an entirely unreasonable work load for the course and somehow responsibility fell on me to confront him about it for the rest of the class.  Thankfully I ended up with an A in the class, but through explaining the situation to my counselor, she observed that I am probably going through the anger stages of grief now.  And after thinking about it she is probably right.  I have found myself confronting people about a lot of things simply because I have too much stress going on inside myself to continue allowing people to add even more stress due to their own pettiness.  I'd go into more detail but it would probably just make me more mad.  I've found myself spending more time at the gym lately as one way to appropriately handle my frustrations.

Tomorrow I am heading back to Indiana for a few weeks.  The reason I'm going is supposed to be to help my father find a new place to live, to move out my stuff, and to be a part of my sister's Indiana wedding celebration.  Otherwise I would much prefer just to stay where I am.  I'm not looking forward to dealing with this man right now and I'm even angrier that, as my sister found out, he's evidently already been dating someone for a while now.  I understand that he must want companionship but I'm worried about what decisions he might make concerning things that were Mom's and no one has any right to besides my sister and I.

Spring Long Term is over finally.  I turned in my last paper yesterday; what a relief to be done.  Obviously it's been a long hard road this semester--a marathon at a sprinter's pace as I think I've called it--and while I know I have a lot to work out in my head and with my family, I still feel like I can say that I have turned a significant page on the darkest parts of my grief and despair.  So much of this semester has been clouded by the numbness required to overcome the constant barrage of emotions firing at one another within myself.  Both in order to control these emotions and because I was unable to sleep through most of the nights, I found myself sleeping though much of the day.  Maybe this was good for me, maybe I was fighting depression.  All I know is that I felt the weight of unyielding exhaustion and fatigue.

Knowing the debilitating effects of my grief, I covenanted with myself to block out my memories of my mother following Reading Week in order to complete the work this semester required of me.  While feeling somewhat guilty for wanting to ignore my feelings about my mother's death and my life's time with her, I knew how much my mother would want me to succeed here.  She was so proud of me for coming here and for wanting to be a minister.  I don't think she would mind much that I had to forget her, if only for awhile.

But as this Long Term came to a close, as I finished classes and began spending all my time in my room writing papers, my mind began to drift back to her.  While certainly stronger than I was in January, I couldn't help but notice that once the routine of everyday life is removed, I can think about little else but my mother.  Still, I did my work.  I finished my papers.  I am done with Spring Long Term '09.  Though I am sure I could have done better quality work, I did the best I could given the restraints of time and emotion.  I think Mom would be proud of me and what I have done here.  If only I could tell her about all I've learned.

Today I attended a small grief group for students who had lost a loved one this year.  My heart aches each time I hear the loss of another's loved one.  While it's helpful to hear the stories of others as they work through their experiences of loss, I really wish I was alone on this one.  I wish that no one else knew what I've felt and am feeling.  This world can still feel so cold that I know I need to re-learn how to appreciate its warmth.  I greatly desire for the days to continue getting brighter.  I want life to prove to me once again that it can be filled with joy.  I want tragedies to be far more rare than I have seen them to be in this winter of my life.

My mother's birthday will be Saturday.  The month of May was always a big month for her with her birthday, Mother's Day, and my parents' anniversary.  I don't know how its going to feel.  And in two weeks, I will be in California watching my sister get married.  What will it feel like to be so joyful for my sister while we miss our mother together?

Last week was Reading Week.  We don't get an official Spring Break here, just a break from classes to do research.  Still a lot of people use it as a break.  I took the first weekend to go back to Indiana.  I'm not really sure that its fair to call it "home" anymore, but I went anyway to visit Dad.  He's been alone in the house since my sister and I went back to school in January so I knew he could use some company, if only for awhile.

Aside from going to church about all we did was eat.  Its amazing how much time it takes to eat when you go out for every meal.  I hope Dad is doing some cooking when he's by himself.  Saturday at least we went to the park and took Mollie with us.  I thought that would be a good way to help him get some fresh air.  Though I'm sure it was hard on him because Mom loved to go to the park too and we went there often as a family.  Dad also found a journal in the house that Mom had started to write about her experience with cancer.  She only wrote in it once.  It helped me see how scared she really was and how much she did love Dad.  She also noted that she truly was in a lot of pain.  My mother really was a strong woman.  While I could see she was hurting, she always mentioned it so calmly.

I also met with Bernie on Monday at the church.  It was good to express to him my concerns about continuing in ministry as I continue to reconstruct my theology in light of all I've experienced.  I worry that no one will have the patience or flexibility of thought to truly listen to me once I'm a pastor.  While I think my ideas maintain the Christian narrative, I approach it much differently than those around me, including the majority of other seminarians.  As a result, I often come across as far more controversial than I truly am.  I just think the way I piece together the complexities of the faith help to establish a much healthier faith than the paradigms I've currently been exposed to in the church.  But Bernie assured me he did not see me as that controversial and gave me some helpful advice on how to maintain my audience's trust by telling them the orthodox ideas first before challenging them by how I get there.

I came back to Princeton on Tuesday.  Spent Wednesday through Saturday doing homework.  Took yesterday off as a mini break before starting classes back up today.  I have a long road of stress ahead of me this semester, but I think once I make it through this Spring Long Term I'll be caught up enough to manage.  I'd still like to take another class this summer but I could also enjoy the time off.  I really need about two weeks without people around.  I envision sitting in the quad this summer under a tree reading in my lawn chair with a nice gentle breeze on my back and no thoughts of yesterday or tomorrow.  I hope I'll have that time soon.  I find myself budgeting the time I allow myself to remember just to make it through my busy weeks.  I'm not sure if this is healthy longterm however.  I fear it will catch up to me when I least expect it.

I'm not sure who all reads this anymore, but I thought I'd at least write something new, if only for myself.

I started my third week of classes today.  Its been good having more to do now.  I'm taking 16 hours of classes to try to get caught up on what I missed last semester and I'm also playing on two intramural basketball teams.  It was good having January to work through a lot of what I've been through, but its good to be getting back to normal activities, even if I'm still not normal inside and likely never will be completely.  Still, I'm feeling more like myself each day.

Most of my classes are enjoyable.  I'm especially benefiting from my class entitled "Vocation: Christian Tradition and Contemporary Life" with Dr. Duff.  As we work on defining God's calling and purpose in life of all human lives and creation, I've had the chance to reflect a lot on the meaning of Mom's life...and even her death.  While much of the readings and class discussions have been emotionally difficult for me to get through, it has been nice to let some of my thoughts out in a way that can hopefully help to provide perspective to other students who may not have experienced what I have, but likely will at some point in their future ministries.  The professor is very careful about nuancing any potentially destructive/dangerous thoughts and frequently reminds us to do the same.  I greatly appreciate her concern for thwarting misinterpretations on a very difficult subject.  She paraphrased Karl Barth by saying that our vocational limitations should be "our cradle and not our grave."  We must somehow affirm God's purpose for each life while avoiding language which implies determinism.

As I said previously, I'm on two basketball teams.  My B league team is co-ed and our name is the Iron Persons, note the gender inclusive language.  We won our first game quite decisively but then lost our second game pretty badly.  My A league team is a group of guys who played intramural flag football together and we are named Black Sabbath.  While its been fun having a good crowd of friends come out to each game, unfortunately we have now lost our first two games.  I think the problem is that we are all the size of power forwards and we don't have smaller guys to handle the ball or tall guys to put up a good enough fight under the basket.  But both teams are a lot of fun and I'm been getting to know a lot more people by playing.  I think playing also helps make me feel more comfortable here because I played so many intramural sports in undergrad.

Last weekend was Valentine's Day.  Still no valentine but a bunch of guys had a good time going out to dinner and then coming back to my dorm room to watch the movie The Departed.  Good man time watching mob movies.  There was also a party on the 3rd Floor of Brown last Friday night that was fun.  The theme was breaking New Year's resolutions.

Hurray!  Tracy's getting married!  She called me last night and told me.  They've picked Mom and Dad's anniversary (May 15th) for the initial ceremony in California.  Then, they're gonna come to Indiana to celebrate with friends there and later to Minnesota to celebrate with Kevin's friends there.  I'm really excited for them.  Only problem is that the 15th will mean being gone the weekend before the last week of classes.  I'll have to figure out how I can swing it, but I'm definitely going to do everything in my power to be there.  Hurray for Tracy and Kevin!

Last weekend I visited my cousin, Jamie, and his family in Boston.  It was a pretty easy trip from Princeton.  Just a train and bus ride away; and not too expensive either, only cost me about sixty bucks round trip.  Aside from when he visited my mom in the hospital, I hadn't seen Jamie since we took a family trip to Boston when I was in middle school.  It was great to see him again and rediscover my family, which is an important rediscovery for me to be making as I continue to grief the lose of my mother.  I'm still working on learning that I'm not as alone as I may sometimes feel.

Prior to my visit with Jamie's family, I met up with one of my friends from Anderson who is now at Harvard Divinity.  He showed me around campus and I met some of his buddies.  Unsurprisingly, Harvard seems like a nice place.  It's in quite a more populated area than Princeton, but the history and beauty of the campus make it another great place to walk around, letting the stately surroundings soak in.  Who knows, maybe in a few years I'll be there working on a Th.M. or Ph.D.  Then I'd really be close to my cousin.

After getting off work, Jamie drove by Harvard and picked me up and we went out to eat with his family.  I wasn't sure what to expect from his kids since they'd never met me, but they were a lot of fun.  Later Jessica, Jamie's wife, said she thought they warmed up to me pretty quickly since I was enough like my aunt, their grandma.  It was good to know that kids can recognize family when they see it.  Sometimes there can be a comfort in the candid truth of children.  That night we also had story time with the kids before they went to bed and Jamie, Jessica and I looked at family pictures that Tracy had mailed them.

The next two days we spent a lot of time in the car.  It was nice that they were all so welcoming and eager to show me around New England.  The first day we went up to Maine and drove along the coast.  We even saw President Bush's family retreat home.  That night we also went over to Jessica's parents' house.  Everyone was a lot of fun and so very gracious.  Again people said I reminded them so much of Aunt Lynn, which was so great to hear since I can't help but think how much they'd say I was like Mom if they had known her too.

Sunday we went into Boston.  After a driving tour of the town's extremities, we parked down town and went to the Old State House where the Boston Massacre occurred and the Declaration of Independence was read publicly.  I bought a "Don't Tread On Me" flag which has made several of my friends jealous now that it hangs in my room!  We also went to the Paul Revere Mall and the Old North Church.  That evening, after another round of story time with the kids, Jamie, Jessica, and I watched a movie and then stayed up talking for quite awhile.  Being the conversationalist that I am, that was probably my favorite part of the trip.  (Jamie and Jessica, if you're reading this, thanks for being willing to loose a little sleep on a Sunday night just talking.)  It really helped me to get to know them and to hopefully to help catch them up a little better on who I am. 

Monday morning, then, Jamie drove me to the bus station on his way in to work.  We had some more great conversation along the way.  (Jamie, sorry if I dominated the conversation with my wild ideas of religion and theology.  I tend to do that a lot.)  I made it back to Princeton by early afternoon.  Hopefully it's a trip I'll be able to make several times while I'm now on the east coast.  I'm at least gonna try to make it to a Red Sox game with Jamie, but it'd also be great to get to know his kids more.  (You guys are great parents and I look forward to seeing how great your kids turn out too.)

Since my last post I seem to be doing quite a bit better.  I had a really good session with the counselor on Wednesday and my sister has said some things which have been really supportive for me.  (Thanks Sister; you're the best sister ever!)  I've also been really benefiting from sharing my changing theological positions as  I attempt to reconstruct my own systematic theology.  Overall, God and the world are beginning to make a little bit more sense to me again, and its encouraging to think that I might be helping the world to make a little more sense for others too.  Thank you all for listening to my ideas and concerns as I slowly piece myself back together.

Additionally, I visited two potential field education sites this week.  One in New Brunswick and one in Flemington.  Both sound like they could use the addition help and like I could learn a lot by working with them.  

Princeton doesn't feel the same.  I'm not the same.  And the two don't currently match.  Not that I would match anywhere right now, but I'm struggling to readjust in a place that use to know me and that I use to know--if ever so briefly.

I purposefully gave up so much (at least as it currently seems), to spend all the time and energy that I could with my mother while she was still with us.  And I'd willingly give it all up again, just for five more minutes with her.  Oh, the things I would say in an additional five minutes with her.  But I am still stuck in the aftermath of all that I put on hold and all those that I put on hold to take care of her.  My mom was my priority and I'm grateful for all the time I had with her.  Still somehow, I'm left wondering now if I am anyone's priority?

Today was my birthday.  I'm back in Princeton now.  Tracy's back in California.  Dad is home, alone but for Mollie (the dog).  It was hard being back here, surrounded by caring friends, and yet still feeling like something is missing, or maybe even somewhat like I am missing.  It's kinda like when you have this idea of something you needed to do, but then you forget what it was.  Like it's just floating over your head until you remember it and complete the task.  It's like that, only just the opposite.  I know what is floating over my head: I'm missing my mom.  It's everything in the present that is hazy and seemingly in the distance.  In a way it's like I am in the distance.

Yesterday when I was driving back, I had the opportunity to do a lot of thinking and spend a lot of time listening to music.  I was listening to a Good Charlotte song entitled "S.O.S."  from the Chronicles of Life and Death album which really resonated with me concerning those who are suffering.  The following parts of the song were most meaningful to me:

Yesterday, Dad and I drove down to Tennessee to view Mom's gravestone. The monument company just finished it the day before, and I wanted to get to see it before heading back to school this Saturday. Dad also would likely have trouble finding a ride after I leave so we thought now was the most appropriate time. We drove down and back in one day. It was a long drive but certainly helpful for both of us I think.

On her gravestone we had the following inscribed:

 While Dad was looking through some of Mom's books he found History of Carson-Newman College, the undergraduate school Mom attended, and she had handwritten on the title page "May 1968."  She would have been 21 years-old when she read it I guess.  Dad and I thought this was neat because I've been reading The Making of Princeton University for the last few weeks.  As I've told people about the book most people have laughed at me for thinking the history of a school could possibly be a good read.  I'm glad to learn that I share Mom's affinity for academic histories.  I'm glad whenever I learn ways I am like my mother.

The associate pastor, Steve, at First Baptist, gave me a book shortly after Mom's funeral entitled Don't Cry Past Tuesday by Charles E. Poole.  Steve said he and his family has read it during periods of grief in their own lives and he hoped it would benefit me too, which it did.  Below are a few excerpts which I have found especially meaningful to me in my present state of grief.

Recounting the story of Jacob meeting Esau from Genesis 33, Poole writes:
"When Esau let go of Jacob and Jacob found his voice, he said to Esau those unforgettable, inescapable, magnificent words: 'I saw your face, and it looked like God.'
     'What did he mean: 'I saw your face, and it looked like God'?  Earlier in Genesis we learned that Esau was a big, hairy fellow who grew a beard and stayed out in the fields all the time.  Does Jacob mean to say that God has a big neck, bulging biceps, bushy sideburns, and a tan?  No. Jacob did not say God looked like Esau.  What he said was that, for a minute there, Esau looked like God.  He said,
     When I saw your face, it was like looking at God.  The way you embraced me and took me in your arms and kissed me and...it...it shocked me...I...I don't know.  When I saw your face, it was like looking at God.  I saw your face, and it looked like God."
That is how so many people have looked to me in the face of the tragedy of my mother's death.  While I have found it hard to see God directly in the midst of her death and our grief, I have found it hard not to acknowledge the presence and love of God in the lives of those who have shown us their love, concern, and care.  When I think about all those from First Baptist and Mount Pleasant who provided meals for our family and stopped by to visit with us and when I think about all my friends at Princeton who have called or emailed with words of support and encouragement, it's been hard to see their faces or hear their voices and not confuse it for God's own.  But still, I am not done struggling with understanding God directly through this all.

Next, Poole proposes the notion that grief is actually a gift from God:
"In our sanest, highest, most mature moments, we know that grief, even with all its pangs and pains, is a blessing, not a curse.  We may even someday come to look upon grief as a gift from God--a strange gift, perhaps, but a gift nonetheless.  (This is not to say that the loss that occasioned the grief is a gift.  We must be careful to make a critical distinction between the loss that devastates us and the process of grief that follows the tragic loss.)  Who knows...it just might be that one of the clearest expressions of real progress and maturity as a follower of Christ is an emerging capacity to see grief (even grief!) as a gift from God, a strange gift that somehow enables us to recover from the losses that bruise and shatter our lives."

Poole continues:
     "This is hard to hear and hard to say.  This is difficult to understand and impossible to explain, but I know that it is true.  Our grief, even our grief, is a gift from God for which to be thankful, because grief is life's lingering echo.  The grief we feel for the person we lost is the lingering, binding echo of our relationship with that person.  We remember them, miss them, and grieve them.  We are bound to them by the last tie that binds: the pain of grief.
     'This is at the core of my emerging conviction that grief, while it may be a strange gift, is nonetheless a gift, a good gift from God, a good gift for which to be thankful.  Oh, to be sure, the memories hurt.  The brittle yellowed stationery, the black-and-white photos, the empty chair at Thanksgiving and Christmas...to be sure, the memories fill our hearts with pain and wet our eyes with tears.  The grief hurts.  But what would we prefer?  That God would give us the capacity to forget?....Grief is a good gift because it is life's echo.  Grief is the last, lingering come-and-go-and-come-again echo of the life of someone whom we loved deeply and miss greatly."

But Poole also provides a word of caution with this gift:
"We can easily 'fall in love with the darkness' and decide that we enjoy being pitied more than we enjoy being happy....If we only live for the echo of a beloved voice that is now silent, we will miss all the other new voices and living sounds that God gives us.  We must never become so enamored with 'life's echo' that we cease listening to what life has left to say."  This leads Poole to the story which encourages those grieving to recognize the need to look to life beyond the grief and is why the book is entitled Don't Cry Past Tuesday.

These words from Poole have been helpful to me because it helps me feel okay with receiving the ebb and flow of grief filled moments without thinking they should be avoided.  Grief is good and should be embraced.  And I should use my moments of grief to solidify my memories of Mom so that I can one day pass her stories on to future generations of our family.

Still I worry when the "pangs" of grief begin to fade.  I'm afraid if I stop grieving, I will start forgetting.  And that, I never want to do.  But Poole also encouraged me not to hold on to the grief so much that I lose my receptiveness to new joys.

Therefore, after reading this book and wresting with the observations that I am continuing to make as a result of losing my mother, I foresee that a large part of my life's task will be to honestly make sense of God in the midst of this experience while being continually grateful for the love shown to us by the church.  I must also continue to find the balance between honoring the memory of Mom through my moments of grief while remaining receptive to the love from new people who come into my life.  And I greatly hope that I will do a good job of passing the memory of Mom on to others.

Sometimes when I hear people say, "I'm sorry for your loss," I want to correct them.  It's not just my loss, or even just the loss of my family; it's our loss, the world's loss.  If people would just say, "I'm sorry for our loss," it would help me understand that they know they've lost something too.  The world will never be the same without her.  The world, each of you reading this, has lost something with my mother's passing.  But more importantly, I hope you see how you have gained from my mother's life, from the depths of her influence on everyone she encountered and loved.  How would your life have been different without my mother's influence on you or someone you knew?

On Tuesday we had visitation followed by the funeral on Wednesday, both at the church. Thursday we traveled to Livingston, Tennessee for the graveside service. In all, Mom had around 350 people sign the registry books and likely had several more attend who may not have signed. It was good to see the many students, co-workers, friends, and family who came to honor her life. It was helpful to hear from these people how they saw her too since we knew her as an amazing mother but they were able to tell of her greatness in other aspects of her life. The pastors of First Baptist did a wonderful job in the service to express the highlights of Mom's life and character. Steve did an excellent job of explaining the importance of the songs Mom had picked ("We've a Story to Tell to the Nations" and "They Will Know We are Christians by Our Love") and Bernie told stories we'd told him about our fondest memories of her. He went on to say that Tracy and I were the greatest reflection of Mom's life work.

Bernie also came with us to lead the service in Tennessee. In attendance were many family members who I hadn't seen since I was in elementary school and several of Mom's friends she grew up with. While it was good to see them, it was also difficult as we observed them remembering Mom as primarily just Little Sarah May rather than the successful Dr. Hawkins and matriarch of the family that we knew. While I'm sure they miss her and view her death as tragic, I somehow don't think they felt the depth of loss that people in Indiana experienced. The world has definitely lost a woman full of love, dedication, and honest hard work that can never be replaced. If Tracy and I are truly her greatest work, I hope we will live lives that do her loving work justice and honor her well.

As I reflect on the last few weeks of her life, I have also been trying to reflect on the last year and the last 23 years of her life. While I know we did everything we could for her in her final weeks, I can't help but ask if we showed her how valuable she was to us back when times were normal, back when she wasn't sick. Did she feel valued each day? Was she shown enough appreciation? Now more than ever, I so dearly value the time I spent in Terre Haute between Anderson and Princeton. And I remember her telling me how much she would miss me once I left for school. I trust that means we were spending enough quality time together; I'm just having trouble remember what all it was we did.