A "Heaven table" for Thanksgiving, rather than "empty chairs"...

Some of the parallels between our two families are uncanny, especially the changes to both of our families' composition over the past year...

I lost my Mom last year on November 23rd, 2016. 

Vivian lost her Mom November 30th, 2016, just 7 days later.

We lost Rowan (10 years old), the baby of our family, two weeks after that, on December 15th, 2016. 

Charles and Vivian lost the baby of their family, Olivia (6 years old), only 5 months later, on May 19th, 2017.

Rowan and Olivia's bodies are now buried just ten feet apart in a beautiful cemetery in the Texas Hill Country.

So much loss.  So much change.  So much emptiness.

But so many memories.  So much that we can relate to each other about.  So much to still be thankful for.

I don't even think I can adequately explain in words (yet) how much our two families have needed one another.  We have leaned on each other, prayed for one another, attended grief share classes together, broken bread together, shared wine together, cried for one another, and yes, even laughed with each other when we didn't think we ever could again.

Charles and Vivian have two beautiful teens, Alyssa and CJ.  We have our two gorgeous older kids too, Zoe and Ian.  When we get together with each other, sometimes it's the laughter of those kids that wakes us up, gives our hearts hope, joy.  It is one of the most beautiful sounds a grieving parent can hear... the sound of their other children able to laugh again.  Don't get me wrong, we have watched and heard them cry together (and separately) too.  They miss their younger siblings so much.  They want them back just as we do.  But their ability to heal and laugh, is God-given, and helps us heal as parents in the process.

Now, as for us parents...

It's not as easy.

We say it all the time, sometimes one of them, sometimes one of us, but it usually goes something like this: "No offense, but I would rather have never met you all, known who you were, or built this friendship with you, if we could have Rowan and Olivia back...but since that isn't the case, we thank God daily for you in our lives."

We decided shortly after Olivia passed, as we did our best to help their family through the initial process of making funeral and burial decisions, that we should spend the holidays together this first year, especially Thanksgiving.  We decided it would be best to just be together, where we all understood or "got it".  So we invited them to our home the day before Thanksgiving for more than a  "Friends-giving", for a true family "Thanksgiving", because they are family now.  You can't go through what we have all gone through together in the past 12 months and not become family.

I knew I wanted to do something special to represent our missing loved ones at the table this year, but the thought of setting an empty chair for all four of them was gut-wrenching.  If I did four empty chairs, one for Rowan, one for my Mom Debbie, one for their daughter Olivia, and one for Vivian's Mom Lupe, 1/3 of the table would be comprised of empty chairs.  Eight of us would be seated.  Four places would be empty.  It sounded too overwhelming.  Unreal.  1/3 gone.  I couldn't do it. 

So I changed gears... 

Instead of empty chairs, I planned and set a "Heaven table" in the kitchen.  Our kitchen table seats four.  I bought a nice table cloth, got down our Monet Mikasa wedding china (that probably hadn't been used in fifteen plus years), I made a beautiful vintage teal and orange pumpkin centerpiece to match the china, got ceramic pumpkin place card holders, wrote each of their names on them, designed flowers for the table (with oranges and purples of course), and framed photographs of our moms and babies who were dining in Heaven with Jesus this year.

I wanted it to be a surprise...it was.

And I think it turned out perfect. 

I was even finally able to put up seasonal window clings in the kitchen windows again (something Rowan and I looked forward to doing every holiday).

Now, the rest of the family did eat together at our long dining room table (except for Zoe who had to work until later that night)...

...and we did set one single empty chair at the head of the table there.  Pippy Lippy, Olivia's special stuffed poodle sat in the same seat that she sat at last in our home, when we made all of her favorite foods.

(The creamed corn was closest to Pippy, because it is one of the last foods Olivia ate in that very seat:)

At the end of the day, I knew without a doubt that both of our families were still

...that it was still indeed a

after all...

...and I was reminded that I love all of these faces, as well as each of these broken hearts so very much.

God is healing us each daily, but together we are stronger.

Charles and Vivian, your shirts alone summed up the spirit and feeling of that day... when we once again broke bread, shared wine, grieved with Hope and remembered that we still have much to be thankful for.

Like the time we actually did get with all four of these precious members of our family... our Moms, and our babies...

Grandma Debbie,

Rowan,

Grandma Lupe, 

and Olivia.

We are one day closer to joining you.

Thank you God for aligning our families years ago, before we ever knew how much we would actually need to lean on each other. 

***please note***

The "empty chair" custom is wonderful!  I am in no way discounting that heart warming tradition, of representing your loved ones who have died.  And I realize that I could have set just one chair that represented all four of them collectively.  But, this Heaven table just felt better, at least this year, at least for me, and I hope for their family as well. 

I thought they each deserved to be recognized, honored, remembered, represented and yes, even grieved, separately...but seated together, as we imagined them in Heaven.  This Heaven table worked for us...but to each his own. Do what you feel led to do, what helps heal your heart.  This is just our Thanksgiving story...this year.

"Signs, Snow angels, Snowmen, and Hope... even in Texas"

I'm sure everyone here in Texas that received the pre-Christmas miracle of last night's snowstorm was blessed and amazed by it.  I know we were here at our house.  Last night I posted pictures of the Texas "blizzard", the gorgeous blanket of pure white snow that resulted from it, and the special heart shaped holes where the grass was still peeking through in our back yard. 

Then, we awoke to a Winter Wonderland this morning (and a treasured two hour school delay:). 

Then, as if that wasn't enough, as I walked out to the car, this lone orange flower was peering through the rocks of our front pathway, against a fully blanketed 3 acre yard of snow. 

I knew instantly that it was yet another sign from our angel Rowan. 

I had a lot of plans today, but that beautiful orange flower made me push them all back an hour or two, because I knew immediately that I wanted to drive out to the cemetery after taking Ian to school, to see what it looked like covered in snow.  I was afraid to go after all my appointments and errands, because as we know, this is Texas, and our Narnia-like snowfall could be gone in mere hours, if not faster.

When I arrived at the cemetery, in the already gorgeous hill country setting, my breath was taken away.  It was so serene, so pure, so heavenly.  I was the only one there.  There were no footprints yet.  There was only a cloud-like cover of pristine white snow covering the entire grounds.  I cried instantly.  I felt like I was seeing what heaven looks like.  When I got out of my car, I felt like I was actually there.

It wasn't actually snowing anymore, but the wind was blowing the snow from the large trees, making it "flurry" down all around me. 

I went to Rowan's grave first of course. 

I cleaned up his marker a bit, thought about what this must look like from Heaven, and prayed that he was enjoying the view.  I wished he was there with me to make snow angels.  I remembered how he had "go somewhere where the snow is up to my knees" as one of his bucket list items.  Of course we didn't get THAT much snow, but it made me smile to think about it anyway.

I visited each of his friends sites that are also buried there, and I messaged their parent's pictures of their children's resting places, covered in snow too.  I knew they would love to see how heavenly it looked too, how peaceful.

I drew a heart in the snow at Olivia's grave and sent it to her Mom and Dad. 

Her Mommy messaged me back that her sister had wanted to skip school this morning to go build snowmen for them.  That inspired me.  So I made a personalized snowman for each of them.

Rowan's of course had a heart shaped leaf on his chest.

Olivia's had a leaf for a bow, because she was never without a bow in her hair.

Justin loved spider man, so I tried to carve a web on his snowman's chest (but it was melting so fast it's hard to see).

Cristabella's was a little baby snowgirl, swaddled in a blanket, because she was so very young when she passed.

The hearts in the snow last night, the single orange flower in my yard this morning (that survived the rare Texas snow storm), those were all wonderful, welcome signs...but the peace and love that I felt in that small cemetery in the Texas hill country this morning, alone in the snow... that was more of a miracle than any of it.  I felt the closest thing to happiness, the nearest thing to joy, that I have felt in over a year.

Thank you Rowan. 

Thank you Olivia. 

Thank you Justin. 

Thank you Cristabella. 

Thank you to all of Rowan's many other angel friends, buried elsewhere. 

Thank you Jesus... Thank you God...

for signs,

snow "angels",

snowmen...

and "Hope"...

even in Texas!

"Rowan (and some amazing neighbors) help us find our gentle giant "Max"...

Last night was so difficult for our family.  As you may know, Rowan's dog, our Bull Mastiff,  "Mr. Maxwell Trousers Joy Navidad" aka "Max" wandered away and could not be found...something he has never ever done before.  Since his recent cancer diagnosis, we have chosen to try to keep him comfortable and let him live out his remaining days with us here at home.  We did not expect it to be very long, but we also did not expect anything tragic to happen suddenly.  We hoped he would just pass in his sleep one night.  Even though we did not think we had a lot of time left with him, him just disappearing into the night was not okay with us, at all.  We were so worried about him.  He is old, tired, weak, medicated and sometimes in pain.  Brian and I searched for him by foot and by car on our property and around our neighborhood until past 2 am this morning.  Then Brian kept checking the back door all night, and I kept checking the outdoor cameras on my cell phone, to see if he had come back.  Before 7 am, Brian drove the neighborhood again and I walked our nearly 3 acres on foot, worried that he had just walked away to die alone, silently (as dogs sometimes do).  Still, no luck.

I took Ian to school, and returned home to the neighborhood again.  Max just never leaves our property though.  He is too big and old and lazy quite honestly, so I came back to the house and walked our acreage again...still no signs nor sounds of him.  I decided to drive around again.  I had posted his picture on our neighborhood forum around midnight last night, and the response this morning was overwhelming.  At least 30 people in our neighborhood, nearly every one of them strangers to us, were out in their cars, or walking or running, scouring both sides of the neighborhood, looking for our big boy. Over 100 of them were praying or keeping their eyes open for him.

After some time, I started getting discouraged.  It was getting colder, it rained, there are coyotes, wild hogs, even talk of mountain lion sightings, in our area.  However, if neighbors were out looking, I felt like I needed to keep driving around too.  I passed multiple cars, driving slowly down the streets, looking left and right.  I stopped my car next to several of them and confirmed that they were some of the good Samaritans out helping look for Max, and I thanked them personally.

After more than another 2 hours of driving around fruitlessly again today, I was about to give up.  I said a prayer, talked to Rowan out loud alone in my car, begging him to just let me find Max, so we had closure.  Suddenly, I saw a woman standing on the side of the road, looking into the woods.  I pulled my car up next to her and asked if she was also looking for our dog.  She said "yes, he's in here" pointing into a stretch of thick woods.  If you know our neighborhood, or have ever been out this way, you know that it is almost ALL thick woods filled with cactus, trees, and jagged rocks.  I had driven by the area she was pointing at a dozen times or more in the past 16 hours (that's how long he had been missing at that point).  I pulled over and got out.  At first I assumed that she actually saw him already, or heard him out there...but that was not the case.  

She is a very special lady.  She had envisioned Max in a specific lay of land, drove to this part of the neighborhood and saw a vision of a little boy giving her the thumbs up, who then directed her to this specific piece of property.  She said the little boy's angel was with us at that very moment, and he would guide us to Max.  I told her about Rowan, and she confirmed, "Yes, it's your son.  He's here."  She went on to explain that she communicates with animals and angels, and that she hoped I didn't think that sounded too crazy or didn't scare me.  I assured her, "My son Rowan saw angels all the time, and they helped him often."  She said "I know."

Instead of being scared or freaked out, I felt a sense of peace finally.  I cried, of course...but I felt peace.  I followed her into that part of the woods.  I know Rowan was with us.  I couldn't see him as she could, but I felt him.  At one point she said, "he's directing me this way...no, this way now".  I turned in the direction she pointed, and I was the first one to see Max's still body, curled up among the rocks in the distance.  She was right.  Rowan was right.  We found Max, after 16+ hours alone, injured, bleeding, in the woods.

I thought Max was gone, dead.  I made my way to him and fell to my knees in front of his body, sobbing.  He sighed a deep sigh and rustled a bit, but as he turned his face to me, I saw all the blood on his face and the surrounding rocks.  He was hurt, and he was hurt pretty badly.  It appeared he had been attacked by a coyote, or a wild boar or a big buck.

The woman told me that Rowan didn't want me to be sad, that he was fine, more than fine.  He also told her that he wanted Max back with him for Christmas this year, in Heaven.  Ironically, Rowan learned he was getting his puppy, Christmas morning 7 years ago (via you-tube video because the puppy wasn't quite old enough to leave it's mother).  Also, Max was born on December 15th, 2010 and Rowan died December 15th, 2016.  And I have blogged before that Rowan dreamed of Max before he was born, telling me that God asked him if he wanted a brindle bull mastiff puppy and that Rowan had told God yes.

We called Brian, to tell him our general location, and let him know that we had finally found Max.  I also posted again on our neighborhood FB forum, letting everyone know they could stop searching the neighborhood, but if anyone could help get this 170+ pound gravely injured dog out of the deep woods, to please come.  We gave the cross streets that we were at, told them our cars were parked on the road, and to just head into the woods to the right and start calling our names.  What happened next was awe inspiring, to say the least.  You've heard of people "coming out of the woods", well today, "people came into the woods" to help us.  I started receiving texts, phone calls, FB messages, FB posts, offers of blankets, front end loaders, trucks, vets, strong men and women willing to help us drag or carry this beast of a dog out to get him help, etc.  And within minutes, people started arriving, yelling to us from the outskirts of the woods...us calling back until voices met bodies.  Nearly a dozen arrived, and more were on their way.  We covered a flatbed dolly with cardboard, and then a thick army blanket, the woman who helped me locate him had already covered Max with her own coat, which was now wet with blood and covered in dirt and dander.  We all loaded him onto the dolly.  It took 8 of us to lift the dolly though, because the land was too rocky and rugged, and Max was too hurt, to be pulled over terrain like that safely.  Others lead the way out, clipped thorny branches out of our path, or lifted large heavy low lying branches up out of our way.  It was such a production...but such a labor of love at the same time.  Community at it's best.

Eventually, we all made it out of the woods with our sweet boy.  These folks didn't stop there.  They called the emergency hospital for me, tried to get Max to drink water, wrapped him in blankets to help his shock, and loaded him in to the back of the car.  They even offered to follow us to the vet to help unload him.  Brian and I were blown away.  When I say that these people were neighbors, that is a true statement.  However, I had never met a single one of them before today.  We all live on large lots.  These weren't our immediate neighbors (though those called to check on us or offer help too).  These were basically strangers, who happened to live in our neighborhood, but who were there offering neighborly love and assistance in a heart beat!  Social media can be a very, very, good thing...this is one of those instances.  We cannot thank each and every one of them enough.  I still don't even know all of their names.  And I know more were willing and on their way too! 

Even tonight, I see that 150-200+ people in our neighborhood checked on Max or checked for updates on him tonight.  Wonderfully heartwarming.  So proud of our neighborhood...of our neighbors...of your hearts...for your help. There truly is still good in this world.  I live in a big community of it!

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Medical Update (read at your own discretion):

I did take Max to Animal Medical Center of New Braunfels, Emergency Hospital.  They jumped right into action, and are doing everything they can for him.

He was in shock.  He could not use his hind legs at all.  He was disoriented.  He was bleeding from his nose and mouth.  His face and mouth inside are disfigured worse than we thought (teeth/gums/and sinus cavity are torn away from inside his jaw-which will require surgery if he makes it). He has a possible head or spinal injury (unable to walk or use rear feet, but legs are not broken per x-ray after all, so he needs CT or MRI to confirm head/neck/spine injury), has multiple lacerations on his eyes, nose and hind legs. They need to spend tonight getting him out of shock, rehydrating him, giving IV pain meds, IV antibiotics, liquid nutrition, etc. Then they can assess if the damage is permanent or if he should recover fully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I left Max this afternoon, after laying on the floor of the emergency veterinary hospital with him and my dear friend Terry (one of his "other Mommies" who watches him when we are out of town, including the whole time our family was in Seattle for Rowan's two transplants last year), I kissed him and hugged him and whispered in his ear: "If you want to go, if you are ready, and if Rowan wants you with him, you are free to go peacefully tonight Max.  We love you boy, but we don't want you to suffer anymore.  And you were Rowan's from the start."

Tomorrow morning will be very revealing.  Either Max will have passed peacefully in his sleep, he will have made a miraculous recovery, perked up physically in a big way, or a very difficult decision will have to be made.  Knowing Rowan is up in Heaven waiting for his "Mr. Maxwell Trousers Joy Navidad" to join in his games of tag, will provide us some semblance of solace.  

Tonight, we thank everyone who helped us find him...especially Lucy, and Rowan:) And the veterinarians and staff at Animal Medical Center of New Braunfels for doing their best tonight.  

If Max does have to be put down tomorrow, our consolation will be that he is with Rowan once again.  If he makes it, we will do our best to care for him until that time that they are reunited in Heaven once again.  Regardless, we are glad this emotional day is coming to a close, but grateful for everyone God has placed in our path.

Lessons learned today:

1. Rowan is still with us in spirit, in so many ways.

2. There ARE good people in the world.

3. Help others, even when you have to "go into the woods" to do so.

4. Appreciate those who come to your aid.

5. Cherish your four legged friends.