Monday, October 19, 2009


Places...different places bring different pain. Memories that are entrenched in our minds; unforgettable scenes; unforgettable sounds; unforgettable things our ears heard; memories that go with us for a lifetime; memories that different places bring back the pain and force it upon us. Here...this is, this was, this did happen to us. We are not only dreaming that Kira's death was horrible. Places bring back memories and become real to me again.
On Saturday we were at Calvary Monument, the church where we had Kira's viewing and funeral. As I sat in the pew, I looked tentatively down to where Kira's casket had been. Yes, I could see it in my mind. Just being at the same place brought back memories as if they happened yesterday. The pain threatened to overwhelm me as I sat there and sang "Nearer still nearer, Lord to be Thine". Tears gathered around the corners of my eyes and trickled down my cheeks. Why do these horrible memories need to be part of my life? Why when I sing "Nearer still nearer" do I think of that and Kira. I don't want it to be like this. I want to draw nearer to God some other way. Any way but through losing Kira. But no, I can see the scenes. They are part of my life and I will not lose them. My mind drifts to the many people that embraced our pain with us. The many who came to comfort us at the viewing. I can still see the faces...hear the words... and feel the hugs. I still remember the feeling in my heart as I realized over and over again the love other people had for our daughter and us. And so I sat and embraced the memories... memories a place brings me, memories that are embedded in my mind, memories that are part of my journey to healing and God.

Kira loved doors. Ever since I can remember her getting around she liked to open and close doors and gates. We have a gate outside our house on an arbor. That was one of her favorite places to play - open, close, open, close. She also liked to open the front door. To her it was her ticket to freedom. One day she was playing with a key. She tried it on doors but that wasn't enough. In the process she tried it on the front door, got it open and sneaked outside. It was nice outside and she decided to cross the road and try the key on the door over there. That is where I found her, opening and closing the door of the barn across the street - fitting the key in and out. Needless to say, I was a frantic mother and had confirmed in my mind that some children necessitate extra-protective angels. A few more hair-raising experiences occurred, mostly ones that come with little people who are taller then their minds can handle. As a result, Merlin needed to go to Home Depot and purchase chain slide locks, which Kira couldn't open. They were not to keep people out, but to keep roamers where they were supposed to be.

Thanks for your prayers. Grief and stress have taken their toll on our physical health. Please pray that we would continue to heal emotionally and physically.

Marylu and Merlin, Marlea, Anna

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

The Last Purchase

Gravestones-I dislike them. I don't want to purchase one, I don't want to look at them, I don't even want to talk about what to put on it. I would like to avoid the subject. Can't the grave have just a little marker? Actually if the marker would be removed, that would be fine - I will just pretend that Kira's death never happened. Grass can grow and cover the plot and no one will ever know in a hundred years the sad story of our little sweetsy-tweetsy. I just don't want to admit that we need to buy one for Kira. I can't bear reading her tombstone. How can her life be portrayed accurately on a tombstone? How can I go to the graveyard and read "Kira Mary Yutzy" on one of those cold, barren pieces of stone? How can it be that this child who made me lose my brown hair be the same child for which we buy a gravestone? Just eight months ago I could never sit here and type on a computer. I would have had too much help. Just eight months ago that body that is now under the sod in the graveyard was here bouncing around on the office counter. Just eight months ago I was a normal person. Now it feels like making the last purchase for our little girl will change me even more. To admit she needs a gravestone is to admit she died and isn't here on this earth anymore. Only her legacy, her stories, and her pictures. To make the last purchase is tempting me... I can hear the stone being put on the ground with a thud. It tempts me to put a stone on my feelings with a thud. But I can't, and I won't. I can't deny what has happened - reality. I can't deny God and his faithfulness to me, to us. I will try to be brave and help Merlin make good choices regarding the last purchase.

Often when I tried to answer the phone here in the office, Kira would come along and climb up onto the counter. At the most inopportune times she would scream or loudly talk. Her favorite thing to do was to plant herself right in front of the computer screen. Therefore, I had to look at her and laugh instead of typing the reservation information. It was a great way to get my attention and way too funny for me. How much more obvious as a child do you have to make your wishes known that you would prefer the attention be on yourself? I would be irritated sometimes but much more often I would laugh and lunge for her - which is exactly what she wanted.

Please continue to pray for us. In some ways the situation seems more awkward to relate to than it did seven months ago. It's hard to explain how the pain keeps on affecting us. Pray that we would be able to parent our children effectively still in the midst of our pain and theirs. Thanks so much!

Marylu and Merlin, Marlea, Anna

Monday, October 5, 2009

Searching to See

I am still searching for the missing piece, and I can't find it. I know who the piece is, but she is not here as far as I can see. Why can't I see? I feel blind, not able to look, as if it is beyond me and my human body. And it is - but I want to smash something to be rid of this blindness. The thought makes me angry. Maybe I should go on a search around the globe looking for my missing piece. Why do I have to miss her - a child I loved more than myself. This longing inside of me is intense - I feel frustrated. Last night as I lay in bed I was talking to Jesus. Suddenly I felt Kira beside me, her head on my arm. I cried out - God I can't handle this, take the feeling away. I could feel her - why couldn't I see her? It felt too good. Just think... if I could have her back again everything would be okay and this nightmare could be over. I heard Jesus say to me "Okay if you are not ready to have feelings like this that is okay." That quickly the sensation was gone, and again I was left searching. I would like to bottle my sin and kick it away - so far away that it would never come back. Then my search would be over; because if I wouldn't be on a sin-cursed earth I would be able to see heaven and Kira; then my missing piece would be found. The curse of sin blinds me, and keeps me from seeing heaven now. I wait in pain for the day when the curse on mankind will be broken and I will finally see. I long to see what I suspect more and more. I am suspicious that heaven is right in front of our eyes. Our sin - the curse on mankind from the Garden of Eden - keeps us from seeing heaven. I firmly believe one day we will see and ask "How could I not see? Why did I waste so much energy being sad when really Kira - and all of heaven - was so close all along." God, Jesus our Saviour, His glory is too much for us. "For now we see through a glass darkly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then shall I know even as also I am known." 1 Corinthians 13:12. Thank you Jesus for the cross, wherein lies my only hope!

Kira and Marlea were excellent fighters. I often spent a lot of the day solving arguments and fights. Don't get me wrong - there was lots of fun play in between scuffles. At one stage - when Kira didn't like what Marlea was doing, she didn't waste any time letting her know how she felt. She would just pick up a handful of crayons and throw them all at Marlea; handful after handful until I reached her. One day as I was driving, I looked back and saw them holding hands. It was so sweet. Marlea was in the back and Kira in the seat in front of her. They were both straining their arms and Marlea was leaning forward as far as she could. They were both smiling sweetly. I smiled and realized that the saying is true "This (fighting)too shall pass." The crayon throwing wouldn't go on forever.

My prayer request is the same as last week: Pray that especially I would be able to believe that good things will happen again. Satan would like me to believe that's not possible. I have fears to conquer and feelings to work through regarding particularly my children becoming sick. I find myself nearly panicking whenever there is a slight fever with either of them. I sit and wonder if this will be the last time I will hold my child. I can hardly help from feeling that way because it is so real to me. Pray that I can trust God as my mind relates to those memories.

Marylu and Merlin, Marlea, Anna