Tiffany Tour 2014

Later this week, I will be embarking on a trip that I've affectionately titled "Tiffany Tour 2014: Laughs, Tears, and Beers.

One week from today I start my final session of classes at Luther Seminary in Saint Paul, Minnesota. My seminary experience has been a blessing, fruitful experience. However, the journey didn't go quite like I had planned. It's hard to believe how much my life has changed since I began classes. 

But, finishing my classes is finishing a journey that Tiffany and I started together. It's upholding our vision, it's finishing a goal that we set. It's remaining faithful to the vocation that God called me to. It's trusting that God has sustained me through this terribly heartbreaking final leg of the journey.

I finish my classes for Tiffany as much as for myself. Because I know it is what she would want for me. I know that she would want me to continue working on building God's Kingdom. 

However, seminary is only one part of the journey I will be embarking on in the upcoming weeks.

I've taken vacation time before and after seminary in order to make the drive to and from Minnesota at a leisurely pace.

Along the way, I will be stopping to visit and stay with Tiffany and I's friends and family. (Hence the creative name of the journey) I cannot wait to see many wonderful people along the way. However, I make no illusions that this will be an easy trip. 

This will be emotional.

This will be exhausting.

But ultimately, it will be worth it.

It is important for me to honor and maintain the relationships with others that Tiffany and I had together. Maintaining these relationships is not some sort of dreadful obligation, it is a joyous reaction to the love and friendship I found in these relationships.

In some small way, we can keep parts of Tiffany alive for one another.

It may not be much, but it's all we've got.

In grief's lonely exile, you hold onto what you've got. 

Here's an outline of the trip:

5/28- Leave Indiana and travel to Chicago to spend the evening with Kendra and Patrick

5/29- Leave Chicago and travel to Iowa to stay with Erin and Ben

5/31- Leave Iowa and head to the Twin Cities to spend time with Bryan, Stephen, and Poppa Thorsell

6/2-6/7- Seminary Classes

6/8 & 6/9- Go to the Cabin in Northern Minnesota with Bryan, Stephen, and Poppa Thorsell

6/10- Head to "The U.P." and stay with Lindsey and Kurt

6/11- Travel to Watertown, WI to stay with Emily and Kyle

6/12- Venture down to Kenosha, WI to stay with Ashley and Brian

6/13- Make the short trek back to Chicago to stay with Julie and Ozzie, and hopefully see Laurie and Dave

6/14- Return to beautiful Bryant, IN

Did you keep up with all of that?

Neither did I.

I will be blogging intermittently along the way. Perhaps short, succinct blogs that get to the point. (I'm not typically know for brevity) 

Please continue to keep me in your prayers. Believe me, they continually to strengthen and sustain me.

I'll see y'all down the road...

Grace and Peace,

Robert

That Night

I wondered if I would ever get around to writing this post.

I wasn't sure if it was necessary. 

But, a lot of time has passed, and I'm realizing that people still want to know what happened the night of the accident.

I told the story in person to most of the folks I felt needed to hear it in person. I've also shared it with people who have asked.

I don't mind people asking. I now understand that not knowing, can be just as hard as knowing. Some people need the closure of hearing the story.

So, for those of you who need the closure, I share the saddest story I will ever tell.

We needed a new couch.

Tiffany's old brown couch from her apartment had been taken over by Jax and it was unfit for guest use. A friend that she worked with was getting rid of her nice couch to get new furniture, so she offered us the couch for free.

We borrowed a truck from some friends in the church, loaded up the old couch to take to Goodwill, and we made our way to Muncie.

We were originally planning on making the trip the previous Friday. But, after a day of work, and a bad weather forecast, we decided to postpone until Sunday.

Upon arriving in Muncie, we dropped the couch off at Goodwill and proceeded to go out for dinner. Eating out in Muncie was always a highlight for Tiffany. Between living in Bryant and working in Gas City, she wasn't afforded the opportunity to sit down to a nice dinner very often.

After dinner, we went to her friend/co-workers house. We loaded up the couch and began our journey home. The weather wasn't "bad", the condensation in the air was so inconsequential that we opted to not cover the couch with the tarp we had purchased.

I was concerned about the possibility of some of the couch cushions flying out of the truck bed. So, we pulled into Hi-Way 3 hardware on the edge of town and she grabbed a couple of them. She placed one between us on the bench seat, and she held one in her lap and she remarked, "This oughta keep me safe."

Driving slowly and steadily, so as to not lose the remaining couch cushions in the truck bed, we made our way to Portland.

Again, the weather hadn't presented any threat. I never lost traction or felt unsafe.

As we made our way North out of Portland, we were having a laugh about some of the low rent motels on that side of town. We wondered, who would ever stay at these places?

Right after that, Tiffany turned to me and said "Wouldn't it suck if this thing (the truck) rolled?"

Before I could jokingly give her a smart assed answer about how the truck wouldn't roll or it's built tough enough to be safe either way...

We hit black ice.

I wasn't even up to the speed limit coming out of Portland. The curve is so slight you'd never take notice of it. I wasn't texting. I wasn't drunk. I wasn't distracted.

We hit black ice. And, I lost the rear end of the truck.

As I tried to regain control, my only thought was to avoid the telephone pole. I thought driving into the field wouldn't be a problem, hitting the pole would be. Either way, I had no control over what happened.

We hit the only spot of the field where there was a slight embankment, and that caused the truck to roll. I'm told that the insurance agent called it a slow roll, which is the worst kind.

We rolled one and a half times and came to rest upside down.

I couldn't see Tiffany because the couch cushion was between us.

She wouldn't respond to me shouting her name.

I hoped she was unconscious. But, she was already gone. 

I hope that you, like me, can find some small, small comfort in knowing that she died instantly and she didn't suffer.

My left clavicle was broken, but I was determined to get to my wife. My phone was gone, so I couldn't call for help. So, I reached into my left pocket with my right hand and retrieved my pocket knife. I used it to cut myself out of the seatbelt. Much to my dismay, I couldn't climb out of the driver side window, the cab was too smashed in.

Someone, who I never saw the face of, showed up relatively soon. I told him I was okay and I begged him to check on my wife. This man was smart enough to dial 911 first. He then went to check on Tiffany, and he said that he couldn't see her. This was not a good sign.

The emergency crew arrived within minutes as I continued to call her name, praying that she would respond.

Zach, the son-in-law of the people whose truck I was driving was one of the first responders. He was the first person that made me feel safe.

It took a while for them to get me out of the truck. They had to secure it so that it wouldn't collapse more as they cut me out. The moment they pulled me out, I tried to crawl back in for my wife. But, the effort was short-lived, there was a lot more of them than there was of me and they held me down to the stretcher and strapped me in. They were doing their job.

I was placed in an ambulance where I was placed in a neck brace and given a shot of morphine. They said they had to take me to Decatur because Portland was full. 

I asked the emergency worker one time. I asked him to shoot me straight about Tiffany. He said it didn't look good. I didn't ask him again. If he knew she was gone, I wasn't going to make him tell me, and I wasn't going to hear it from him.

Decatur wouldn't take me because they were afraid my injuries were too severe. (They weren't) So, they had to take me to Fort Wayne. They asked if I wanted to go to Parkview or Lutheran. I told them I liked the name Lutheran better.

We got to the hospital, they looked me over, and they x-rayed me. A woman came in to get my insurance info and she asked who my emergency contact was, I said, "At this point, I don't know." That's when it really sank in and I began to cry. This woman, who I saw as a vulture preying on me in my time of weakness asking me about insurance and how I plan on paying the bills, looked over her shoulder to see who was around, and then asked if she could pray with me. She didn't have to do that. I'm so thankful she did.

Not long after that, Zach showed up with my friend and mentor pastor, Mark Strietelmeier. Mark took me by the hand and looked me in the eye. I looked him hard in the eye and I said, "You tell me what you know."

He said, "Robert, she's gone." And then he held me as I wept bitterly.

Not long after that, my parents arrived. God love them, they had to drive all the way from Richmond to Fort Wayne in weather that had gotten worse, not knowing what shape they were going to find me in and dealing with the news about Tiffany. We were all devastated.

We lingered in the emergency room long enough to collect ourselves for the drive home. Then we left.

Now you know about that night.

Mother's Day Lamentations

One of the most difficult things about grief is that you never know when it’s going to hit you.

This has been a tough morning.

I didn’t think Mother’s Day would be another painful first, but it is.

Tiffany wasn’t a mother, therein lies the source of my grief.

The fact that we didn’t have any children has been a double edged sword. On the one hand, I couldn’t imagine how much more difficult this would be if I had another human life dependent upon me. But, on the other hand, it would have been another piece of her that would have lived on.

Tiffany should have had the chance to become a mother; she would have been a wonderful mom. She loved kids so much. She loved her days working at the daycare, she loved the kids she worked with as a school psychologist, and most of all, she loved all the kids that her friends and family members were having in recent years.

Her face would just light up anytime there was a baby nearby.

So many of her/our friends are pregnant now, and it brings me such joy and sorrow. It’s not fair that she doesn’t get to be around to share in the joy with them. It’s not fair that she doesn’t get to be here, pregnant alongside them. It’s not fair that I won’t get to go on late night food runs to fulfill whatever obscure craving she’s having that evening.

But, what about any of this has been fair?

However, I do give thanks that this is the first Mother’s Day that she doesn’t have to miss her dear mother, for she is with her.

I will end the lamenting here. I started this post before church, and now that I’ve joined my friends in giving glory to God, I’m feeling better. I leave now to visit my own mother and take her out to lunch. Then, I get to go to Indy to see Brian, Rachel, Miles, and Jax. Oh Jax, the closest thing to a child that Tiffany had. I love seeing him, but I weep like a child for the first few minutes. But, don’t worry, I’m smiling through those tears.

Happy Mother’s Day to all you mothers, and baby’s momma’s mommas…

Grace and Peace,

Robert

P.S. Here's one of the last photos I ever took of Tiffany. This was Thanksgiving. She's holding her cousin Kevin's baby and Jax is checking everything out.

Thank You, Indianapolis.

Last August, I had the privilege of being the emcee for an event that churches in my area worked on putting together. The event was called "Faith, Family, and Football". The event was centered around a very special guest, Josh Bleill. Josh is a double amputee veteran of the War in Iraq, he now works for the Indianapolis Colts as a community/motivational/inspirational speaker. 
Here's a photo of Josh and I.

Josh speaks to crowds varying in size from a classroom of first graders to a few thousand people in auditoriums. He delivers a message of hope, perseverance, and working hard to get back on your feet after you've been knocked down. You can check out his book "One Step at a Time" here, I enjoyed reading it.

Some folks from my church had seen him speak before and they were very moved by his story. So, they felt called to put together an event in our neck of the woods featuring Josh as the speaker.

The event was awesome. We had wonderful musical acts, another special guest speaker, and a color guard. I believe there were roughly 1,000 people in attendance. Josh delivered a wonderful speech that night, and we were all very thankful to have heard it.

I really enjoyed meeting Josh and spending time with him.

As you can imagine, in the days and weeks following the accident, I remembered Josh's story as I found myself taking life one step at a time.

To be honest, I'm still taking life one step at a time most days.

Something else also happened in the days and weeks following the accident. A member of my congregation wrote to Josh. She felt that Josh and I had made a good connection and she was compelled to let him know what happened. If anything, so that he could keep us all in his prayers. Josh's secretary wrote back to say that Josh was very sorry to hear the news, that we would be in his prayers, and he wanted my address.

Unrelated to Josh, the event, or my church, a good friend of mine reached out to the Colts. He wanted to let them know that a big fan had suffered a big loss in their life, so he wrote to them.

I'm unaware of when either letter was sent. Nor, did I know they were even written. But on January 23rd, I came home to a package from Colts Headquarters, and this letter was included.

Needless to say, I was floored.

I had my suspicions about how this very special letter came to be, so I called the member of my congregation to ask if she knew anything about it. She then told me her story.

After texting the image to my friends, my friend let me know that he had written the Colts as well.

Y'all sure know how to make a guy feel loved.

But, let's talk about that letter.

Wow, just wow.

I don't know who wrote the letter, as you can see it's not signed by any individual. I don't know if Josh wrote it, if a chaplain wrote it, or Hell, maybe Jim Irsay wrote it.

I don't know who wrote it, but I'm so thankful for their thoughtful words.

Let's be honest, this not a form letter. This was not an "auto-reply". Someone took their time. This came from the heart.

I still choke up more often than not when I read the letter. 

I'd like to highlight two lines in particular.

1- "We pray you will continue to have the strength to focus on the vision you and Tiffany had for your lives together."

I think about this a lot. On my hardest days, I try to remember the vision that we had for life. That vision included my completion of seminary and continuing to serve my two congregations. That vision is still alive, that vision I can continue. I celebrate that vision.

But, there's also a vision I can't continue. The vision of our lives together, the vision of having children, the vision of growing old together. I grieve the loss of that vision.

However, a colleague pointed out that perhaps I could honor that vision by one day remarrying and having children. (No time soon, of course.) It would not be the vision of Tiffany and I, but it would honor the vision we had together. If Tiffany loved me and believed in me enough to share life and children with me, then perhaps I can honor that vision by becoming the husband and father she knew I could be. It's a heavy, daunting thought and I'm still navigating it. Difficult as it may be, I'm glad he brought it to my attention.

2- "We hope that the qualities you admire most in Tiffany will live on in you and the world will be better for it."

After reading this, I feel like I need to recite the words from the Affirmation of Baptism, "I will, and I ask God to help and guide me."

Oh, that I could live out the qualities of my better half.

On the one hand, so much of me was her and so much of her was me. We fit together like a hand in a glove.

But, on the other hand. She was the most empathetic, caring, and genuinely loving person that I've ever known. And, even on my best days, I could never come close to filling her shoes.

But, God help me, I will try to do the best I can. She made the world a better place, she carried the love of God everywhere she went.

I could never begin to fill all the voids caused by her absence. I can only try to be a reflection of her love, which itself was a reflection of God's love.

The letter, and the thought and care that went into it's manifestation mean so much to me. I had the letter framed and I've placed it where I can see it everyday.

I don't read it everyday, but I know it's always there. It's always working to motivate and encourage me.

And for that, I could not be more grateful.

Thank you, Carol and Brian.
Thank you, Josh Bleill.
Thank you, Indianapolis Colts.

Grace, mercy, and peace to you all,
Robert