Friday, November 2, 2012

2 months. (Another PG warning...)

2 months ago today, as of this minute, Lynn was enjoying a Daddy-daughter date with Roya.  She loved going on special dates with Dad to Tim Hortons for a donut.  Later, early evening, we all snuggled up on the couch downstairs, the four of us, watching Lynn's favorite... the Muppet Show.  I can picture him... what he was wearing, his laughter, and how he mimicked the characters...

Several times throughout that afternoon, Lynn had shivered unusually, like a chill, saying, Ugh...  I have this nervous energy about my run tonight.

He had originally planned his run for the afternoon after church.  He had his route all mapped out and recorded into his online running apps... (He mapped out his runs well in advance, enjoying the challenge of planning a route according to whatever mileage was suggested on his training app.)  Later, though, he changed his route to accommodate Andrew's schedule, so they could enjoy their first run together since we'd returned after vacation.  He left the house around 7:00pm that evening (I think), waving goodbye in his running gear, running belt in place, some tracker in his shoe, and his IPod strapped to his arm, counting his milage.

Later that evening, I was reading a book in bed.  I thought to myself.  Oh Lynn.  He's late as usual.  Probably hanging out with the Boone's and chatting up a storm. *endearing sigh

The phone rang.  I missed it.  I saw it was the Boones and assumed it was Lynn telling me he's on his way home (10-10:30pm?).  I called right back and heard Sara's voice.  O, I thought, it's not usually Sara...

Then she's asking me questions.  Lynn's not doing well. The paramedics are pounding on his chest.  I am to meet them at the hospital.  Sara is coming to stay with the kids so I can leave...

I walk around in a daze.  I think, O, Lynn only has his sweaty running clothes on.  I'll pack him a change of clothes for after this fiasco when we're ready to come home.  Sara arrives.  I take my purse and my bag of Lynn's clothes, socks, shoes, and all, and head off to the hospital.

The road is empty and the urgency is building inside.  I run red lights.  I pass a car on a main road across the yellow line.  Like a robot, I get out of the car and walk towards Pastor Cory who's waiting for me at the door.  He doesn't know what happened, either, but was told to come.

Soon I am ushered around the corner.  People are watching me.  Then I am intercepted and led in the other direction to the family waiting room.  The sights, the smells... Inside I know.  I talk to Andrew and ask what happened.  The Doctor comes in.  Three sentences: His heart stopped.  He stopped breathing.  He's dead.  

Andrew cries.  Cory sucks in his breath.  The air is thick and heavy.  The lights dim and hazy.  I stand up and ask (demand actually) to see my husband and they lead me back down the hall.  I walk in and gaze upon the impossible.  My husband... an empty shell.  Bruised and lifeless.  Completely gone.  Empty.

The presence of God was with me, filling me.  I looked at the most traumatic scene, I never could have imagined it, contrasted with visions of glory dancing around the room.  I said, God, I have the faith that you could raise this body from the dead if it is your will.  But this is Your time?  Somehow, I knew it was.

I sat.  I answered questions.  I called my Mom, who screamed and said they're on their way.  I held his hand.  I felt the last bit of warmth leave his body.

Then I went home (Shannon drove me and others followed), with my bag of Lynn's change of clothes, walking into a heavy darkness I had no idea possible, with the comfort of God's presence aglow within my heart...  Only vaguely aware of everything I would have to do and face in the coming days, weeks, months... years?


  1. I so remember that night...getting the text first from your Mom, me texting back...and then the phone call...'shock' is sometimes a word we use so often...'Disbelief', is more what the feeling though, "Well, something happened, but, the Hospital WILL do something? Right? Lord? Please?"...
    It had only been a scarce couple of weeks before, that we were all at Johnny & Melissa's, sharing stories, laughter, and great Christian Fellowship...and Lynn making a comment, that He and I could be Brother's for our shared sense of humour, etc...
    I also felt the same for him...He IS a great guy, 'present tense'...The loss I even feel, of missing him from 'here', I know is microscopic compared to what YOU and family would be feeling...
    But do know, every day, there are thoughts and prayers always for you and family Natasha...
    God's Comfort Prayed for you always,
    Bill Barkus

  2. There are no words to express what I want to say to this post except that you are always in my heart and prayers.

  3. Wow, Natasha, just wow. Thank you for sharing the painful recount of that night. I can't imagine. We continue to pray for you and the girls. I also can't imagine how you can have such hope and peace in the midst of it all, but I praise the Father that He carries you through.

  4. your story is powerful Natasha. praying for you and this continued journey with the Lord into the everlasting.

  5. Natasha, thank you for sharing such a personal, painful experience....Lynn was such a "light" in a dark place....when he visited us to discuss Heidi's plan to attend Bethany, we had lots of questions and probably weren't the most gracious of hosts. But, he was patient and kind as he answered every question we had. He prayed with us before he left our home that night.....because of that, we knew where Heidi was supposed to be. I can only offer you prayers to surround you with the comfort that can make the unbearable bearable....our lives were enriched by his presence....

  6. Natasha, I cannot begin to understand, but so appreciate you sharing your private moments. Thank you. My prayers for you continue...

  7. I was especially praying for you yesterday as I knew it was another reminder of how much time has past... I continue to think of you and pray for you and trust God to comfort and guide you. I know you are looking to Him for everything, and there is nothing better you could do, nor a better example you could give your daughters. Love you!!!
    ~ Karen Wells