Tag Archives: death

When Does Heartbreak Heal

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Today is Caleb’s 14th birthday, all of them celebrated in heaven, while we are stuck on earth without him in a mix of heart ache and sorrow. Certainly some things get better with time. Now I can (mostly*) control my emotions until I have time and privacy to cry. I can day dream about what life would look like with three boys instead of two. I can imagine what Caleb would be like and look like. I can share our story with others.

A few times this year I have been able to share with people about Caleb’s short life and how I survived his loss. A new neighbor, an old friend, a conference full of women, small groups and large groups at Bible study. Because I have so publicly shared our grief and God’s faithfulness, people ask me about Caleb often. When a friend of a friend loses a baby… When a neighbor’s sister has a miscarriage… When a friend’s co-worker has a still birth… I have the privilege to walk alongside them, to share my story, to share the hope I have that I will see Caleb again in heaven. I share about God’s love and faithfulness, that His peace filled me despite my devastation.

Now all these women are part of The Club. The Club you didn’t know existed until you were in it. The Club you never wanted to be part of. Moms who have lost babies. You realize that heartbreak isn’t just a saying, but a physical pain. Does it ever heal? Some days I’m still surprised by how quickly my grief can be triggered.

Earlier this year a friend of mine texted that she was at the hospital and had to deliver her baby a few weeks early. Even though her circumstances were different than mine, and her and the baby were expected to be healthy, I found myself sitting on the kitchen floor crying. I was so scared for her and the baby. I prayed that God would protect them and that everything would go well.

But then I also say “Why God… why does she get her baby and I didn’t get mine?” I see pictures of a preemie baby on Facebook … “God why couldn’t I make it a few more weeks? Then I’d have Caleb with me.” I really am grateful for every baby that gets to go home with their parents. I just wish I had mine too.

I don’t know the answer to why some moms get to take their babies home and some moms have empty arms. But I do know that sharing Caleb’s story has helped many women. I will always do my best to walk alongside the grieving, to show them God’s love, and to pray they find comfort and peace in Him like I have.

Happy 14th Birthday Caleb. I love you always!

*I wrote this while eating lunch at Jimmy John’s and definitely cried. But I’m ok with crying in public now.

When The World Stops

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When Caleb first died, I remember posting on social media about our loss. Friends would comment their condolences and express how heartbroken they were with me. But then I would see their posts of birthday parties or kids sports games or whatever fun they were having. “How can my world feel like it has ended and theirs just keeps going?” I would think.

As time went on, I realized my world hadn’t ended. But there are still days when grief hits so hard that I want everything else to stop. I want to be able to sit in the sadness and remember Caleb. I want to cry without the pressure of only having a few minutes. I want my world to stop so I can remember.

I’m writing this from a junior high gym filled with students playing different band instruments, warming up for their solo ensembles. And I don’t have Kleenex in my pocket.

Today is Caleb’s 13th birthday, each of them celebrated in heaven. In those 13 years, I’ve had two more children. One warming up for his solo ensemble. The other getting ready for his basketball game. My world keeps spinning.

This has been a week where I wanted everything to stop so I could have time to be sad. But yesterday was my best friend’s 40th birthday. Then last night I emceed our school’s fundraising dinner which I helped plan. These are things I love, people I want to celebrate, events I enjoy. Yet my heart sits in conflict between the grief of losing Caleb and the joys of today.

In the months after Caleb first died, I could not compartmentalize my emotions. The check out lady at the grocery store would say “hi how are you?” And I would tell her the truth, “I’m not good. My son just died.” She was not expecting that. Jeff would tell me, “just say ‘fine.’ People don’t really want to know all that.” But with me, what you saw was what you got. My emotions were so raw that I felt like you could look at me and tell my heart was broken.

I’m better at compartmentalizing now. But I don’t necessarily think that’s a good thing. I cried Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. Then I stopped. I stopped thinking about Caleb. I turned off my emotions. I let my world keep spinning so I could celebrate my best friend, so I could plan a fun event, so I could raise money for school, so I can be present at the band ensemble and basketball game. And I do enjoy it all.

I think Caleb would have enjoyed it too. He would have loved a golfing party with my friend. He’d support his brothers at their events and probably have his own too. We’d be planning a special dinner or party with his friends. I wish we had that.

I wish for a lot of things with Caleb. But I know he has the best in Heaven. Someday we’ll be together again. No tears, no pain, no heartache. No compartmentalizing emotions. Just joy.

Happy birthday Caleb! I’ll love you forever. 💙

The Love of Granny

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I know I’m not the only non-blood relative who called her Granny, but it still felt special to be included in her family. I met Jeff’s grandmother sometime during the early years of Jeff and I dating in college. Jeff’s grandfather, Papa Jack, died in 2002 and Granny made the move from Chicago out to the suburbs to be closer to her only daughter and her three grandchildren. She quickly immersed herself in retiree clubs, befriended her neighbors, and made herself at home in a new community.

Stephanie, Granny, Rob, Debbie, Jeff, Pat, Jennifer

Granny was from a small town in the mountains of West Virginia. Her and Papa moved to Chicago when Pat (Jeff’s mom) was a newborn in hopes of finding better jobs. (Papa became a truck mechanic and Jeff inherited his tools. You should see the size of some of these wrenches!) In 2010, Jeff and I said we wanted to see Granny’s hometown, so of course Granny, Pat, Jeff and I turned it into a vacation. Granny drove the entire time! We might not be blood related, but we have that in common. Sitting in the passenger seat instead of behind the wheel was hard for me! Haha! We visited with family and friends, drove through the mountains, saw the New River Gorge Bridge and had a great time together.

Debbie, Jeff & Granny at New River Gorge in West Virginia

When Jeff and I had children, we knew our oldest would be named Jack, after Papa. When Jack was two years old we gave him a power wheels Jeep for Christmas. The first thing he did wasn’t sit in the seat, or honk the horn, or play the radio. The first thing little Jack did was open the hood to look at the engine. His Papa Jack would have been proud.

Granny was most happiest around her great grandchildren. While she didn’t often smile for pictures, if there’s a great grandchild on her lap, she was beaming. Granny would often come over to babysit the kids. When they were little, she would sit on the floor and play with them. She even crawled through the little play tunnels to chase them. As they grew, she would play games and talk to them about school and sports. It didn’t matter what they were doing, she was always happy to be with them, and likewise they were so happy to be with their Granny.

Jack, Granny, Ryan and Parker

Food might have been Granny’s love language. Every July 4th we would eat fried chicken at her house and walk to the nearby park for fireworks. Every birthday she would make her famous “Granny cake” – a yellow cake with chocolate fudge frosting, a recipe that better be in the family still! At Christmas she would make pastas and appetizers. I was always a fan of her deviled eggs. Whenever we would visit, she would pull out snacks she had collected and saved for the kids.

Granny passed away on January 15, 2024, just a month shy of her 93rd birthday. Up until the last couple years, she lived a healthy, active life. She was kind, humble, and loving. She worked hard, she served her family, she cared for those around her. All of my grandparents had died by the time I was 16. But a few years later I met Granny and became one of her grandchildren. I am so thankful for having her in my life for more than 20 years, and immeasurably grateful my children were blessed to know the love of their great grandmother.

Now we hope to follow Granny’s example of loving those around us. We will always treasure the memories we have with our loving Granny.

Granny with her grandchildren and great grandchildren in Hawaii 2021

When the Words Don’t Come

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Sometimes this is what grief looks like: laying in bed in the afternoon crying as I anticipate the anniversary of my first baby’s birth and death. Eleven years on Thursday.

Every year I write a blog post for Caleb’s birthday. I used to write much more frequently, but the last several years have been sporadic. But I always post on his birthday. It’s our thing. Except this year I don’t know what to write. What haven’t I already written?

What happens when the words don’t come? Is Caleb’s life any less meaningful? Does it mean the grief is easier to bear?

With two kids here at home, life can just get busy. We have plans to decorate some rocks and put them by Caleb’s grave. Possibly mini golf party with some friends. Pizza and milkshakes for dinner. Things we think an 11 year old boy would love.

But usually around this time, I just want to be alone and cry and think of what could have been. Yet at the same time, I don’t want to be alone. I want hugs and words from friends. I want reminders that Caleb was special to others. I want people to remember that our family has three boys, not just the two they see.

Thankfully I do have amazing family and friends who have grieved with me and comforted me. Friends who will stand with me these days but also give me space for whatever I’m feeling.

After 11 years of this, I know it tends to be the anticipation of Caleb’s birthday that is worse than the actual day. But for today I lean into the grief. I let myself cry and feel the sadness. I know because I’ve lived it for 11 years, “weeping my last for a night but joy comes in the morning” (Psalm 30:5).

I might not have more words this year on Caleb’s birthday. But there’s a lot from past years that are worth reading again 😊

Caleb Chun – Feb 24, 2011

What I Didn’t Have

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A poem for Caleb’s 10th birthday

I didn’t get to bring you home or rock you to sleep

I didn’t get to play with you or tickle your little feet

I didn’t get to walk with you or teach you to ride a bike

I didn’t get to bake you a cake or learn what you would like

I didn’t get to hold your hand as we crossed the street

Or teach you to play soccer or take you to the beach

I didn’t get to watch you grow or see what you would do

I didn’t get to celebrate the amazing things you’d do

But

I didn’t have to hear you cry or bandage a skinned knee

I didn’t have to yell at you for climbing too high in the tree

I didn’t have to punish you for fighting with your brothers

Or take away your toys because you didn’t share with others

I didn’t have to comfort you after a broken heart

Or watch you struggle with schoolwork and have to restart

I didn’t have to watch you fail, with dreams set aside

I didn’t have to watch you suffer in this broken life

Your whole life lived in a moment as you passed from our world

You leave me with empty arms but an overflowing heart.

A Piece of Me

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For 8 years, a piece of my heart has been missing. When my first son Caleb was born, 8 years ago today, he went straight to heaven. We held his tiny body. 10 fingers, 10 toes. Daddy’s nose. Eye lashes, finger nails. (Lord may I humbly suggest you work on the vital organs and lungs before nails and eyelashes.) Caleb was born prematurely and wouldn’t live on this earth.

The joy of being a new mom immediately replaced with the sorrow of losing a child. He never called me Mommy or told me he loved me. But the day he was born my heart grew so much. I loved Caleb more than I ever knew I could love anyone! Saying goodbye at his grave I buried a piece of my heart. A big piece.

In the years that followed, Jeff and I had two more sons Jack (6) and Parker (3). Some people say things like “sorry for Caleb’s loss BUT at least you have Jack and Parker.” I understand what they mean and their good intentions. But there is no BUT. I have sorrow and grief about Caleb’s death and no other child can replace him or fix the grief. At first I thought it would.

When Jack was born, I thought now I have my boy. But it was different. There should have been two boys. Then we had Parker and I had my two boys. But there should be three. Sometimes I’ll buy matching clothes for Jack and Parker and have this longing to buy a third set. There should be three.

Chasing Jack and Parker around certainly fills my time and brings me joy. But my heart will always be split. My heart and ability to love has grown exponentially with each child, more than I ever thought possible. But a piece of my heart will always be in heaven with Caleb until one day we are reunited.

Until then I rest in the knowledge that God is good, faithful, and trustworthy. He is near to the broken-hearted. He sees every tear I cry. He gives me peace that passes all understanding. Thank You Lord.

Happy 8th Birthday Caleb!

Saying Goodbye

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Yesterday we went to the memorial service for my neighbor, Kathleen. She was a kind, cheerful woman, always smiling. We would chat over the fence about gardens and landscaping. She would hire Jack to pull weeds because he was trying to earn money for something, but then of course, she had to sit with him and teach him which things were weeds. Kathleen was a loving person, thinking of others even when she was facing trials of her own.

My neighbor is actually Renee, Kathleen’s mom. A few years ago Kathleen moved in with her mom in case the 80-something year old ever needed help or someone to care for her. But Renee had raised a dozen children, mostly on her own, so she rarely needs help from others. Kathleen was the oldest of the family. I asked her how she was doing living with her mom. She said “It’s wonderful! I’ve been waiting my whole life for one-on-one time with mom!” She always had a way of looking on the positive side of things.

But instead of daughter taking care of mom, it turned out that Kathleen got cancer and her mom was taking care of her. She battled for several months before being diagnosed as terminal. Still she remained joyful.

Psalm 139 says “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. … For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be” (verses 7-16).

When things don’t go as we planned, we can take comfort from these verses. We can trust that first, God is faithful. He will never leave us. Even when we try to get away from Him, He is still there to hold us and guide us. Second, the Lord loves us. He created us. He wants to be with us. The Psalm goes on to say that His thoughts about us are precious. God LOVES us! Third, we can trust that God is good. We may not understand His plans, we may doubt there are plans at all. But His word says He planned all of our days before we were even born (Psalm 139:16). No one dies “too soon.” Surely they die sooner than we wanted. But God had all of these days planned. There’s nothing we could have done to lengthen their life.

img_4001When you find things not going as you expected – when not if, because I’m pretty sure a time will come – I hope you cling to these same truths. God is faithful. God loves you. God is good. May you find peace in knowing your Creator is with you. And like Kathleen, may you find joy no matter the circumstances.

Five years ago

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  Five years ago I was laying in a hospital bed, halfway through my first pregnancy, shocked by the sudden, unexpected news that I would have to deliver this baby now. But I wouldn’t get to bring him home. He wouldn’t survive.

I wouldn’t get to introduce him to family and friends. I’d never sing him to sleep or buy him cute clothes. I wouldn’t get to watch him grow, to learn to walk and talk and run. I wouldn’t teach him how to play soccer or the guitar. All the dreams for his future, gone.

Mostly silence filled our hospital room as questions filled our minds. The nurses said he may live for a short time and we would get to hold him. 

How do we hold such a tiny baby? You’ll know how, the nurse assured us. 

What do we name him? Some people choose the name they always had in mind for their baby. Yet others pick a new name now that you know this baby won’t survive.

What would labor be like? Because the baby won’t survive, many pain relieving options were available. However since the baby might have a short time alive, I wanted to make sure I was completely coherent.

Our nurse who specialized in situations like ours, answered our questions before we even asked.

Our parents joined us in the hospital room. Tears, small talk played in the background as Jeff and I tried to secretly discuss a name. We didn’t even know if the baby was a boy or girl. This name has to mean something. I thought of some favorite Bible stories but needed a Bible. Of course since I landed in the hospital via ambulance, my phone wasn’t charged, I didn’t have a Bible or my iPad or anything. The nurse tracked down a Bible for me. Thanks Gideons.

Where is the story about Moses sending 12 spies into the Promised Land? After some scanning, Dad found it for me: Numbers 13. God had promised the Israelites this land but told Moses to send these 12 men ahead to check it out. They returned and declared to the people “It does flow with milk and honey and here is its fruit! But…” They were scared of the giants that live there. “Then Caleb silenced the people before Moses and said ‘We should go up and take possession of the land, for we can certainly do it.'”

But the others spread a bad report among the people so they grumbled and wept and doubted God’s promise. But Joshua and Caleb believed in the Lord and were not afraid. Because of the others God said the Israelites would wander through the desert for 40 years until everyone in that generation had died, except Joshua and Caleb. “Because my servant Caleb has a different spirit and follows Me wholeheartedly, I will bring him into the land he went to, and his descendants will inherit it.”

Caleb believed God, followed Him wholeheartedly, and coincidentally was the son of Jeff, or more specifically “Jephunneh.” Good thing the baby was born a boy. We had no girl name picked out.

  And so Caleb was born. His heart stopped beating. No first cry. No happy tears, only sad ones. Our first family picture – do we smile? We held his tiny body but his soul was already in heaven. 

All the lost dreams, the won’t haves, the hopes broken have changed. 

Caleb made me a Mom, even though he never called me Mommy. He taught me the incredible power of love as my heart burst with love for him. Because of Caleb my faith was tested and survived. I grew dependent on the Lord in a way nothing but heart-wrenching sorrow could make possible. The Word of God literally sustained me.

I could always list the “won’t haves” with Caleb – and often I do think of them. But because of Caleb, I have new dreams I get to fulfill every day with Jack and Parker. God has given me many blessings, and Caleb is one of the best.

Not What I Would Have Planned

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Last weekend we had plans to go to Lake Geneva for a race Jeff was running (as I wrote about yesterday). We were going to leave at noon on Friday and spend the afternoon introducing Jack to the swimming pool. However, no one seems to have created an app to sync my iPhone calendar with our home paper calendar, and thus we had a conflict.

My sister-in-law had given me tickets at Christmas to a concert Friday night. So Jeff and I decided we would go to the concert, come home, wake Jack up, and drive up to Lake Geneva late Friday night. We assumed Jack would just go back to sleep in the car. Instead, Jeff slept in the car and Jack talked to me while I drove.

It ended up working out though because the wake for my friend Heidi who died earlier in the week was Friday afternoon. Jeff had an appointment to get his car worked on, so I took Jack and met my mom and sister at the funeral home. We knew there would be quite a crowd so we got there almost when it began.

I’ve never seen anything quite like it… hundreds of people waiting in a line that weaved through the large funeral home, looking at pictures of Heidi with her family and friends as some of her favorite Fernando Ortega songs played. The vast crowd was surely a testimony to her life: friendly, caring, compassionate, joyful.

If it was any other concert, I would have skipped it. But it was Chris Tomlin. I have all of his albums and have never seen him in concert. He’s one of the best contemporary Christian song writers and worship leaders. So I rushed home after the wake and Jeff and I rushed to make it to the concert on time.

Going from a wake to a concert isn’t what I would have planned. But this wasn’t just a concert, it was truly focused on Jesus, worshipping him with thousands of people around. As the first song played, I knew I was right where I was supposed to be. Kari Jobe singing We Are – “Make the most of the time we have left, We are the light of the world… We gotta let the light shine”

Where Is God?

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“Sometimes the greatest gift we can receive isn’t just healing, but the power to endure.”

I just heard this on the radio as they talk with Craig DeMartino, a rock climber who fell 100 feet and is miraculously alive (Check out his book to read more of his story).

There’s been a lot of heartache lately both locally and in national news. A man who took his own life leaving a wife and son, the sudden passing of our friend Heidi, Rick Warren’s son who committed suicide, and now the horror in Boston.

Lives lost
Many injured
Grieving families
Survivors wondering why they’re alive

Amidst it all people wonder Where is God? And all of a sudden, trying to answer this question, I feel totally incapable. Here’s what God says:

The Lord is near to the broken hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18

The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Deuteronomy 31:8

All the days ordained for me were written in Your book before even one of them came to be. Psalm 139:16 (Read what I wrote about God’s timing in our lives)

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose. Romans 8:28

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? … No in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. Romans 8:35,37

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