Haunted Memories

Memories are unavoidable. They are a part of my life - a part of who I am - a part of who I am becoming. Memories are etched in my mind, even in my body, and also in my heart. They won't leave; no matter if they are good or bad. Some of my memories seem to haunt me. I would like to erase them, to pretend they never happened, push them out to drown in the sea. They seem to chase me sometimes, reminding me that I will never be the same; and that is true. Circumstances that mimic the last hours of Kira's life in our home seem to make me freeze. This past weekend, Anna had her first experience with the flu. Merlin was gone for the weekend, so I was alone with my fears and memories. As I lay beside Anna in bed, the darkness and memories overwhelmed me. Hours before Kira took her last breath, I had laid beside her in bed also. I thought she would be there beside me the next day too, but she wasn't. I was at her bedside at Hershey Medical Center. I looked over at sweet little Anna and wondered - will she be here tomorrow? My mind raced, flooded with memories I wish weren't there. They are not nice ones; ones a mother isn't supposed to have. The darkness threatened to crush me...I cried out to God in despair. I felt my hands clinging to the foot of the cross as Jesus reminded me that yes, these burdens, these haunted memories - I died for them also. They are not too big for Me - My grace is sufficient for you. I went to sleep, my arms still around the cross. The memories aren't gone - they will never leave me. But, God again used the situation to help me face the pain entrenched alongside the memories. A few days ago I heard Marlea singing "My Jesus has broad shoulders, his breath is stronger than mine." The song is actually worded "His back is stronger than mine." I doubled over laughing at that thought because her breath is strong sometimes, and the thought of Jesus' breath being stronger than hers was too much! Later I thought of it again and it also suddenly made sense; yes, Jesus' breath is stronger than mine. He could run many miles and still wouldn't be out of breath.

Kira was a Hershey kiss lover. In our back stairway we keep the cleaning cart for the inn. Kira would sneak up there and eat hershey kisses from the cart. The only mistake she made was in leaving a trail of wrappers around the cart and down the steps. And of course, a chocolate ring around her mouth. A wrapper is still there...no one wants to move it. How I wish I could find her up there again. Sometimes I eat one, just trying to be like her.

The days seem long right now and I find myself not caring whether or not Christmas comes this year. It seems horrid to celebrate. I also dread the thought of memories being a year old soon; it seems if Christmas comes, soon the anniversary of Kira's death will also be here quickly.

Marylu and Merlin, Marlea, Anna

Outlets of Pain

Kira had two little friends at church. Janessa is three months older and Abbi is three weeks older. At Kira's graveside, Abbi came and sat on my lap. We sat silently on that cold February day. There were no words necessary. Together we threw Hershey kisses and daisies into the open grave. My tears ran as I held her, my heart crying out for my own three year old. The next day at church she was waiting with hugs for me. For months after that she was waiting every Sunday with a hug and would often sit on my lap for a while after church. Some Sundays she would have hugs for Merlin too. Nobody told her to do it, she just knew instinctively. She knew because she needed me too. She was also missing Kira, and I reminded her of Kira. My heart would often break inside - I wanted to hold her, take her home, and make her my own. But I couldn't, since she wasn't mine to keep. In July, she and her family left to be missionaries in Liberia. Her only request for me was that I sing "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" at their farewell. I granted her request by sheer determination. I knew I was going to miss her dreadfully and it felt like another parting. As the weeks wore on after she left I realized that she was an outlet for my pain. Her hugs, her sweetness, just the feel of holding her was so much like Kira. Abbi is also Kira's second cousin so in some ways she did feel like her. She forced me to stay honest with my feelings. To stay alive, in touch, and to not deny them. But she did something more; she became my friend. I finally decided to try making another friend. I knew Janessa had a really difficult time after Kira died so I decided to try to become her friend. It didn't take long; now she sits with me for a little while almost every Sunday in church. She loves one toy I have in my purse. It is silly putty - Kira's very own special one. When we went to El Salvador, I let her keep it for me until I got back. I haven't figured out yet if she likes the silly putty, likes the excuse to come sit with me, or likes the silly putty because it gives her a connection to memories of Kira. Either way doesn't matter; what matters to me is that I have a friend that is Kira's age. When she is finished sitting on my lap, my heart cries out in pain. For a few minutes my pain was somewhat quieted with her presence. She reminds me of Kira, and helps me to be honest with myself and the feelings in my heart. In some ways, she is a bridge to my feelings. The energy I use in our relationship is an outlet of the pain inside of me. I thank God for Janessa and for Abbi even though Abbi is far away. I hope to be friends with them for the rest of my life.

In the last several months of Kira's life, each night she would pray a simple prayer. "God bless my teacher(Sunday School), God bless Janessa, and Trevor." Then her voice would trail off sleepily. I can still hear her say those words in my head. I often think of it as I lie in the girls' bed saying prayers. How I wish I could still hear it! I can't help but wonder who else she would have added to her list by now.

Thanksgiving was okay. Thanks so much to all of you who prayed for us especially on Thursday. I felt that lifted up feeling that comes from lots of intercession. Today I was moving pictures around and putting out our manger scene. I wished this to be last year. Instead it was this year and Kira is only in my memory. Marlea and Anna had lots of fun helping me and I tried to be brave and happy for their sakes. I feel time getting close to a year since she left us and I want to freeze. Pray that I would be able to sort out my feelings correctly and remain reliant on God. Some days I am very fatigued and it's hard for me to deal with life when I am tired.

Marylu and Merlin, Marlea, Anna

Grief

Grief - it's not something we like to deal with naturally. Grief - it's not something that can really be described or shared adequately. It's more just present and stubbornly stays. I have learned to appreciate grief. Grief has become part of my life; almost as much as eating. It causes awkward moments, frustration for loss of words, and inappropriate tears. I can sit somewhere and have lots of tears, not at all because of what I am seeing or hearing. If someone doesn't know me and is sitting beside me, at that moment my expressions can seem really strange to you. I have concluded that entering another person's grief doesn't take words. A few weeks ago in El Salvador I met a friend I hadn't seen for ten years. My friend speaks Spanish and my Spanish vocabulary is limited, so communicating is not clear. Being understood requires a lot of gestures, signs, and wonders. She was telling me about her family just when her little three-year-old girl ran by. Her daughter is full of life, looks "sparky," and has lots of energy. As she dashed by I burst into tears. I had no words, just - sobs and tears. My dear friend took me into her arms and held me. There were no words exchanged, only feelings and tears. She couldn't say what she wanted to say because I couldn't understand. I couldn't say what I wanted to say because she couldn't understand me. So we stood in verbal silence, communicating through both of our tears. What mattered to me was that she cared enough to enter my world. She knew instinctively why I burst into sobs when I saw her energetic three year old go dashing by. She shared my grief without words but was present and caring. Suddenly it all made some sense to me; grief is not something you can really explain correctly to another human being. It's a feeling deep in the heart and soul of a human that connects by bold love that comes straight from God. My friend simply put to practice what the Bible says in Romans 12:15 "Rejoice with those that do rejoice and weep with those that weep".

Thanksgiving comes soon; my mind goes back a year. We were at home all day; our neighbor Barry came over for lunch. His wife Rhonda had to work so it was just he and our family. The girls were delighted to have him here. Barry is a very calm person and always had a very calming effect on Kira. In fact she almost always behaved perfectly when he was around. They often played with Rhonda and Barry when they were out with their dogs next door and we had become good friends because of their puppy love. After lunch Merlin, Kira, Marlea and Barry played "Memory" for a long time. I can still see them on the floor playing diligently. This was big stuff to Marlea and Kira...Barry playing "Memory." Thanks Barry and Rhonda for the love you gave and give the girls...we still cherish those many good memories.

As I reflected more on the grief issue it continued to become more clear. I gained new understanding in that it's okay not to have words for grief; the feeling in your heart is what matters. I am overwhelmed when I realize through my eyes how much you all have given me. I am reminded again that giving to others is what life is all about; to be a reflection of Jesus. I want to be more like that!

Merlin has been doing quite well the last several weeks. It helps all of us a lot to feel more stable. Please keep praying that he and I will continue to heal physically and of course all of us emotionally. It's tough with the holiday season coming. I would like to run somewhere and hide. Instead I am trying to be brave and get out the manger scenes with Marlea; it has always been a traditional party in this house. Today we unboxed one nativity set and it was missing a wise man. Since Kira isn't here to defend herself, we blamed it on her (probable culprit.)

Marylu and Merlin, Marlea, Anna

Baggage

We were on vacation in El Salvador for the past two weeks; as we were preparing to go I searched to find the suitcases. I looked at them and just stared. There was just no way I could pack; no way I could pack up with my feelings. They were not going to fit. I searched vainly for a compartment big enough to contain them. I thought of several different pieces of luggage, and oddly enough they seemed too small. As I started putting things in the largest suitcase, I had no room for my baggage. What was I going to do with it? It seemed so heavy and enormous. Merlin packed the rest of the suitcases and no room was left. The next morning we put our luggage in my brother's vehicle and drove for the airport. As we drove along I felt confused. My baggage was coming along and yet is wasn't packed. Later as we walked down the terminal to the board the plane I felt it following me. I didn't have that free feeling one expects to have when going on vacation. The thoughts and feelings were following close behind me. I found myself wondering how what I was thinking was going to fit onto the plane. The plane taxied down the runway and yes, it was still with me. But the plane wasn't big enough. I sighed in relief, glad I hadn't tried to pack the mental baggage-realizing I would never have been able to stuff everything into a suitcase or any piece of something. Even if I had tried - the airplane could never have contained it all. I sighed again feeling overwhelmed with the thought that my baggage is too big to fit into an airplane. Ironically it followed me even though it didn't fit. My mind turned in consolation to Jesus and His promise to me in Matthew 11:28-30: "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me: for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." Yes, my baggage followed me but God's promise is stronger in my heart than my baggage.

Kira loved suitcases. To her they meant upcoming adventures. When she was smaller she used to love climbing into and out of luggage. She didn't care whether or not things were in the bags. As she grew she realized she could pack her clothes in to go away. Marlea had her own red suitcase and usually shared with Kira. Kira would carefully put in lots of things. I always went through their suitcase and put numerous things back in her drawer where they belonged. She was always so pleased with herself for packing. Last Christmas Kira got her own suitcase. It was brown with polka dots. This was very important - to her it meant she was getting older, like Marlea. A few days later we went to Ohio over New Year's Day. She proudly stuffed many items into it as we packed. She was so happy to have her own she shone from ear to ear. Marlea's suitcase is red, Kira's was polka dot with a ribbon on and she knew Marlea was secretly jealous of it. Her suitcase has gone with us on every trip we have taken since February. Instead of Kira wheeling it, Marlea does. It's a touch of Kira we take along. Marlea used it for her carry-on on our trip. Tears came to my eyes as I watched her with it. Many questions, wishes, and pain went through my heart.

We were able to relax and enjoy our vacation. It felt good to come back to Kira's pictures and memories. I hadn't been in El Salvador since we are married and it was Merlin's first time there. We enjoyed a new place, new memories, and new people. We can't speak Spanish so that meant limited conversation, which was good for both of us. Most of all, we enjoyed spending time with my parents who are there as missionaries for four months.

I thought maybe if I don't write for three weeks you will just forget about us... I am blessed to know (and see on the site meter) that you haven't. I thank God for each one of you that prays and cares for us! I am dealing with adrenal fatigue, and ask for your prayers especially that I can regain strength and live accordingly.

Marylu and Merlin, Marlea, Anna

Places

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

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

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