A grieving introvert on a plane full of strangers . . .

 

Sunset on Seven Mile Beach, Grand Cayman

My brother-in-law, Chris, sells Beck's Seed. It's new to Minnesota. This made it possible for Brian and I, as his customers, to take a trip to Grand Cayman.  We had scheduled this trip before our son John passed away,  and had originally worked the dates out so we could celebrate John's birthday here in Minnesota, and then leave for Grand Cayman to celebrate our 29th wedding anniversary.  More firsts.  Brian and I hadn't taken a vacation without our kids for years.  When John passed away on 11.4.17, we weren't sure we wanted to go, to be quite honest,  but we agreed we could use a week of sunshine and anonymity.

We had heard from Chris, repeatedly, what an amazing company Becks is. How down to earth and faith-based their organization is. We had no idea.  Obviously, since we lost John, we've been feeling a bit reclusive, vulnerable and sad. It's hard to be around the people we do know, let alone a large group of strangers . . . especially when they don't know our story and will obviously be asking a lot of questions.  And questions cause tears, even though we want to answer them.

The view from our Condo!

All these fellow travelers are also farmers or work with Becks.  We met up at the Beck's hangar in Indiana.  From the moment we stepped onto the property, we could feel a difference.  We were greeted with smiling, helpful faces, from people that love their jobs. We signed in and were soon asked to board the plane.  What an experience.  A beautiful plane, a lovely flight attendant, Beth, and 15 other seats filled with total strangers.  At least to us. Becks owns some condo's on the island, and we would be paired up with another couple to share one of the units.  A little awkward for us in our fragile state, we really didn't want to be the "Eeyores" of the trip.  We landed, got our rental car, learned quickly to drive on the opposite side of the road and go backward in the roundabouts. Poor Brian.  Not only did he have to conquer a new way of driving, he also had to endure his chief navigator, me, squealing, clutching, covering my eyes, fake braking and maybe trying to crawl under the dash. I had recently told my niece Nicole that the things that used to scare me don't any longer, but I am ashamed to admit, this was an exception. What were the Brits thinking!!  

We made it to the London House and found out we had been paired up with Jeff and Lisa.  A super sweet couple from Indiana. They were so kind and we thoroughly enjoyed getting to know them. After a few days, our story started to get out to the group.  They welcomed us, prayed for us, included us.  It was amazing.  We all met at the host's condo each morning for coffee and pastries, talking and getting to know one another.  We went on excursions together and ate out with new friends.  We sat side by side on the beach, watched the sunset, swam in the ocean, and did life together for one glorious week filled with sunshine and sand, and no visible reminders of home.

Dinner at Rum Point

This group shared their own struggles with us. Some through tears, all through faith-filled words. On Saturday, before we left for the airport, Danny gathered us up and prayed for us in the parking lot. Numbers were shared with the group, Facebook friends were made, promises of prayers given.  During the week, we heard stories about their pain, losses, health issues, struggles with children, and so much more.  But a common thread was clear, through the pain, they placed their faith in the Father, kept persevering and praying, and reaching out to others.  

We watched as Eldon and Stacy, two of the kindest people I've ever met, greeted other island vacationers as long lost friends.  They led by example not to judge a book by its cover. Garland went from chair to chair getting to know each person on the beach, encouraging us with his wisdom and marriage "how to's".  We saw how the Monday & Friday arrivals were clapped on the back or hugged, welcomed back by old friends and new.   We listened to Ray's story on the plane. He couldn't wait to go see some rancher friends he had met previously. He's 77 with twinkling blue eyes and clearly no fear of roundabouts!  We were hosted by Curt, Lee, and Bob - along with their wives.  So kind and engaging.  We told them about ice fishing, cold Minnesota winters, accents, harvesting beets, and the Vikings.  The guys all shared their farming stories, talking for hours together about their shared love for working the ground, what works for them, products, equipment, etc.  We told them all if they venture north, they have a place to stay and a lake to fish. I've been enjoying the Snapchats from my new friend Lisa L., and am thankful for her friendship and encouragement.

I haven't had the privilege of meeting Sonny Beck and his wife, but it is quite apparent from everyone who works for the company or who has any dealing with them, that this organization loves people.  They honor God.  They appreciate each other.  They have built something truly amazing and I hope you will share this blog with them, along with our sincerest gratitude for the way the Heavenly Father has used them, their company, their dealers, Chris, and their customers, to bless us and so many others. Mitch is an incredible spokesperson for your company! And his wife, Michelle, so talented!  

Michelle's drone photo from Sting Ray City

7 Mile Beach

It helped to get away, to not be surrounded by reminders of our loss.   But, eventually, you have to come back and face it.  But first, we went to see Kate, Jason, and baby Daveney. We missed them so much, and baby Davey Sue had grown! I couldn't wait to get my hands on her!  And then we came home, to the unbelievable reality that we face on a daily basis. We are just not okay.  I can't imagine we ever will be.  I've said it before and I'll say it again, we don't blame God.  We aren't mad at Him. We understand that we live in a broken world and terrible things happen. We understand that John made choices in his pain that led to a terrible addiction, we know he's in a better place, we know it's our hurt now and it will never again be his.  However, nothing can touch this pain of loss.  It can't be healed, not here, not in this realm.  So, please continue to be patient with us.  Thank you for understanding that we don't know what we need, we are just learning that this is unfixable.  Still trying to wrap our minds around the fact that he's gone.   We deal with tremendous sadness, some days anger and guilt, and every single moment, we miss him.  We would selfishly like to have him back, in whatever state, just to hug him and laugh with him.  

I want to be there for you, to be fun and laugh and support you, but some days I can't.  Some days I don't want to leave the house, or answer the phone, or hear about the pain you are in because I can't deal with my own, let alone yours, and I'm so sorry for that. I know how selfish that must sound, but it's true.  I can't read, I can't concentrate.  I can hardly listen to music. If my husband wasn't a farmer and we didn't have family here, I'd move away from all these reminders. I'd go live on an island, in LaLa Land.  It would be easier.  It's a process.  I honestly think our good days, our "normal" times, are gifts of prayer.  You have no idea how important those prayers are to us.  We know that they are holding us up. Thank you for that. And thanks for being understanding. I also need to share with you, that while these words flow for me, are part of my healing, they are also incredibly difficult to pen.  I can't tell you how often I have to stop and wipe away the tears, as they make it impossible for me to see the screen.  Blogging is hard, so your support means the world to someone who feels led to do it.  If my pain and honesty can help you in some way, personally, and to understand what others in your life are going through, it's worth it.  Your reaching out and telling me that is priceless, thanks for being brave!  

SPC Schlegel at Ft. Wainwright Alaska - where he sustained an injury which led to his addiction

I'm incredibly proud of my son, of who he was and tried to be.  Addicts cannot be stereotyped.  Your perception is wrong. They are the housewife next door, the soldier, the doctor, the person you made fun of in school.  And no, I don't think jokes about drug addiction are funny in any way.  No one wants to be an addict.  It's a painful, lonely epidemic and we are losing people right and left. John was sweet and kind, handsome and funny - he wasn't a "lazy bum living in an alley".  If you give each other a chance, you'll see each other's hearts, and that's where we want to look.  Not on the outside, not forming assumptions based on external factors, not judging what you don't understand.  That was a lot of our son's problem. He cared too much about what others thought of him.  People judged him without the facts, and he suffered.  So, don't be those people.  Be kind.

Anyway, sorry, I let the honesty out for a while. Let's get back to sunshine and sandy beaches!  If you farm, ask Chris how you can be part the fun next year!  That private jet thing might make commercial travel difficult! Especially when Beth heats up giant cookies and stuffs you full of Panera!  If you know the Becks Family, tell them what a blessing they are.  If you get lost in Indiana, I hope you run into one of my new friends, you'll be in great hands.  Thank you all for being a part of God's grand story.  May God bless you as completely as you have blessed us.