Loss and Love

June 23, 2019

Loss and Love

Standing excitedly on the screened porch steps, 6 children stand about squirming, giggling, jumping, and otherwise trying to pitifully contain their excitement.

“What is it, Daddy!” chorus a half-dozen voices.

Daddy pulls out a stork – plain, white, six-foot-tall wooden stork.

“No, Daddy! It is a boy or a girl!” “Is it a Bobby or a Mary?” “Daddy! That doesn’t tell us anything!” “Daddy!”

He’s grinning under that “Indian Jones” hat he always wore. He loves the suspense. The oldest boy sits on the steps; he’s been telling us it’s a girl since he knew Mom was pregnant. He jumps when Daddy finally pulls out a bow – a pretty, humongous PINK bow.

The children scream with joy and start dancing about, following Daddy as he plants the stork in the yard and ties on that giant pink bow – announcing to everyone speeding up and down our county road that God had gifted this family with a new beautiful baby girl.

Our Mary.

Our treasure.

It was 24 days before my thirteenth birthday 23 years ago that I first heard my baby sister’s cry over the phone. (No skype or video phone back then.) Mom would bring our new baby sister home the following day all wrapped up in blankets against the South Carolina January cold. We loved, spoiled, and thanked God for our baby.

Our Mary.

Honestly I was an odd big sister; I read tons of parenting books and practiced techniques on Charley, Dorothy, and Mary, so they felt like my children instead of my siblings.

My Baby Sister.

Two days ago at work, just settling in, going happily about my day, I get a call from my Mom that made a part of my heart die. Mary was gone. She didn’t have details, but just that turned me numb. I went into split mode. Six months and ten days ago it was my Daddy; this was ripping my mother’s heart from her chest. Her baby girl was dead. My baby sister was dead. My niece and nephews would never see Mommy come home from work. My boss helped me gather my things and Thea and I started trying to call my rocks (phones are hands-free now so your voice and your car does everything, Daddy couldn’t call us from the road when she was born). I needed to talk. Louis told me he was with her babies. My Mom had gone to tell Becca in person. I cried, I screamed, mad at the waste – I didn’t even know nor care how she died yet. I was so irritated that God had let this happen to us. Mary was just getting on her feet again. She had found a home to rent, she had enrolled the kids in school, she was starting a real job on Monday… her life was moving in a positive direction.

She was 23.

23.

A baby. Her children needed Mommy. But she was gone. Talked with my baby brother. It was a car accident. An accident, a blink of an eye; everything about two families changes.

“Praise you in the Storm” came on Hope FM. Music is my life. God knows me. The next few songs playing while I made the 35 minute ride home seemed like God talking to me through them.

Mary had told me the day before that she kept seeing Daddy with his arms out to her like he was going to hug her. I told her that was God letting Daddy give her a hug while she slept. Now that popped into my head to make another river of tears before I got to the house.

I never understood having to walk into your own house, look your children in the eye, and tell them their Aunt is dead. Two of my daughters were closer to Mary than I was. She had been coming to stay with us for summers when they were young (my Daddy’s idea of “parenting classes”) until she married and divorced… I called her ex.  (They’d been seperated off and on for the last three years but officially divorced on June 11, 2019.)

Death is horrid.

I don’t know how those without God can handle death. My hope is in Jesus and I know I will see those I love again. I know my baby sister is in heaven with my Daddy – her Daddy.

The roller coaster of emotions still races through every vein and artery in my body.

“You have to take care of her,” Daddy is saying – I’m 13 & she’s a bright-eyed 6 months. “Don’t let anything happen to her.”

But I can’t always be there! I can’t always stop bad things! I am so powerless a protector!

I walk in to Mom’s house (Mary was living there until she got her place) and there’s Mandy, Isaac, and JJ looking up at me all excited, “Yea! Aunt Alice!” and they grab sister-cousins and brother-cousin and disappear into the playroom (their bedroom).

Our focus is on these angels now. On helping their guardians (another sister & her husband have custody) as much as we can. On being there to tell them stories about their Mommy. On praying for them. On always being there for them through the life journeys they will take without her.

Oh, God, I know death was never in your plan! It hurts so bad. It rips our soul. I pray constantly that we will know peace. I pray that all those who lose loved ones find peace. I pray for my Mom – God, only you can comfort her. I pray for Mary’s babies.  Wrap your arms around them and whisper to their ears that you are holding them and you will guide them.

Oh God, death is so hard to bear!

Go hug those you love, speak without anger, treasure the time you get with friends and family. Life is a vapor – you never know when it will end.

~Nancy Tart

Fatherhood

June 17, 2019

Fatherhood

So, you know this huge thing called “Fatherhood?”

What comes to mind?  A parenting book I read when I was twelve (yes, oldest sibling perks!) said something like “the child’s view of God as a Father is directly impacted by their experience with their Earthly Father.”

Yes. So true.

I went into parenthood knowing this. (Songs like “He Wants to be Like Me” reaffirmed this giant responsibility.)

A Father is often the humor of the family too – in the photo, Louis had climbed to the top of the stump and challenged “Come Get Me!” … notice all the kids following!

Despite the failures that I’ve made as a Mom and that I felt repercussions of from my parents (they were AWESOME parents, but they weren’t perfect) – I understand the crux of all parenting: we are human.  We (Parents) are not Jesus and are not perfect.

Bingo.

That awesome thing called grace collaborates with the huge responsibility of parenting to create a vulnerable, praying, God-dependant parent capable of teaching the amazing love and grace of Jesus through their own transparency.

Let’s face it: most of the American culture makes fun of fathers.  (Ever seen the Goofy Salute to Fatherhood?) Even as early as the 1950s when there was still a bit of a patriarchal society present, cartoons and movies started to depict fathers as lazy, goofy, clueless bunglers who often caused more problems than they solved.

Although I laughed along with my Daddy at a lot of these early shots at the masculine father, I understood the bulk of media still left you understanding that the love and bond of a father to child was the glue of a family.  The unsung hero always was the silent sure strength of the God-following Father.

As time inched forward, the media continued to turn the American Father into a non-essential entity.

The opposite is true!

I consider myself a strong, independent woman when it comes to my life.  I am a Christian woman, but one of my strongest battles with myself is submission – first to my father, then to Jesus, and later to my husband.  I know this though…  I CANNOT be the mother I am without the encouragement and support from my husband.

If I had to do motherhood without my husband being my ultimate cheerleader and sounding board, I would have realized how unfit I am about three months into the first child.  I have the ultimate respect for people whose life circumstances have forced them to navigate parenthood alone.  I try to be an encourager to them and help those single parents in any way I can because I cannot imagine myself having that strength.

I am excited to be around my husband!  I was on a softball team (church, yes, I’m an athletic maniac but wasn’t on an actual team until I was in my late 20s and it was just for one season with my church family).  Louis was working sometimes 100+ hours a week for our family at the time.  The company I had just closed.  He’d never made it to any of our games (I took all the kids with me; they loved it and hung out with their friends & some of the church ladies who came to encourage us bounced my baby around).  One day he showed up and I was so excited!  (I was told I squealed like a little girl; don’t remember exactly.)  I love walking with him.  I am excited when we do something as a family – or when he’s going somewhere and says, “hey want to go with me?”  Because I know he likes his alone time.  I get way too much alone time at my office – I relish gym coaching because of the other encouraging women I work for and with and the chattering children I love.  I will chatter way too much sometimes.

Our church sermon was on how Fathers aren’t perfect (only Jesus is) and how their honesty and relationship is their connection with their children.  It’s the way to disciple.  We aren’t perfect, our children aren’t perfect – bingo!  Common ground.

I know how important real, honest, God-fearing Fathers are to the fabric of our family.  I know how hard it is to buck the media’s garbage portrayal of our roles and follow God’s plan instead.  I am so thankful that I have a husband who is pursuing God’s heart.  His passion for Jesus makes him a better husband, a better father, and a better friend.  He helps encourage me to pursue God’s heart.  (Told you I’m competitive.)  He isn’t perfect, but he is constantly improving.  A challenge arises and he rises above it.  He’s always leading in love and with a determined drive that is totally contagious.  His passion for Jesus, life, and family (okay, and sports) is encouraging.

And he doesn’t think he’s “so much” – he compliments and lifts me up consistently.  He makes me feel like I’m doing well despite whatever challenge I feel I’m failing.

At church, we pulled in on Father’s Day (neither of our fathers went to church as adults) and he comments, “wow, church is crowded on Father’s Day.”  Yes, at our church, the culture of encouraging each person to follow God individually, corporately, and in their family is persistent.  (I was afraid we lost that when our previous church folded.)  I am so encouraged that Louis has found a church with a culture of lifting up men as fathers; the vital leaders in their homes, encouraging and holding each other accountable.

Thank you, Jesus, for fathers who choose to take the hard road and follow you; they are raising up the next generation of world-changers.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next later…

~Nancy Tart

Me Without You

June 15, 2019

Me Without You

Yesterday I entered a bit of nostalgia.  My facebook timeline mentioned a memory of Father’s Day a few years ago.

Father’s Day.

This is the first Father’s Day when my Daddy is in heaven.

The first thoughts were sad.  Theadora, who was laying on her tummy in the office talking to Faux, one of the office dogs, has never seen her Granddaddy.  I haven’t written anything in any of my books since he’s passed – more likely because I’ve been working two jobs but it feels like there’s no one to discuss book ideas with.  I wonder if I’ve made the right decisions; Daddy would listen and he’s been in this position before.  On the ride home the radio show host asked “what does your Father want for Father’s Day?” and I remembered all Daddy ever wanted all the time was just to spend time with us.

Then I realized, as I do every time I’m sad about Daddy being gone, that I’m being selfish.  Daddy had spent more than two-thirds of his life without his Father.  None of us ever met our Grandfather Pearson – whom Thea was named after.  This is the first Father’s Day that my Daddy gets to hang out with his father – and with Jesus!  How cool is that?

Daddy isn’t in pain anymore.  He’s running, tending trees, worshiping Jesus, dancing with his Mom, you know… silly things we Earth-bound think about as being fun.  I wonder how many questions he’s asked God – he had a long long list of them we used to discuss.

I realized reading my last few posts leading up to his death that I’d been writing about eternity, “Finals Week” was published one week before he passed.  Odd, in retrospect, it’s like God was letting us know in Daddy’s way – with a bit of humor, as this cartoon was his idea! – that He was about to take Daddy home.

Home (Heaven) is where we belong.  On Earth, we love and learn.  We miss those gone, but we look forward to meeting our heavenly Father (God) one day!

Our love is forever.  I will love my Daddy forever.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

House Hunting 101 – Lesson 1 – Location

June 10, 2019

House Hunting 101 – Lesson 1 – Location

We’ve been planning toward our next step – home ownership.  We are grateful for the place we are currently renting, but because of the black mold infestation (it’s under control, but we don’t own the house, so can’t remove it) we are actively looking for a place to own.  Somewhere that hopefully, we are smarter about and keep (I still miss my grapefruit trees that had just started fruiting after 7 long years!) forever.

Right now, we are still in the “finish paying off debt” stage, but with end-of-business debt down from over $14K to $800, we are seeing the light at the end of the tunnel after a little over 2 years.  (Yippee!!!!)  Next step is to have 6 months of expenses in the bank.  Then we start saving for a home.

We’re being really picky this time so it will be a while, but it is fun to discuss, think, and plan!

We have learned that the primary item isn’t size or neighborhood, but location.  Driving isn’t pleasant for Louis (I don’t like the “wasted time” either, but I use it to dream up stories, interview fake people in my head, and pray.) so we thought about what type of location did we want.  We wanted to minimize driving.  But what are the constants in our life?

Not work… (Although I hope I keep these jobs until I retire – my plan as Operations Manager is to eventually shift to a few hours in the early mornings or two or three days a week and be available the rest of the time remotely.)  Remote is awesome.  I get more done in the mornings (like now, at 5am) and I really can’t stand being gone from my family this long (9.5 hours for my 8 hour day – 1.5 driving).

Not hobbies… because we love beach, tennis, walking, bicycling, surfing, swimming, watching nature, growing things… anything active and we usually make those things happen depending on what is around us or in our own yard.

Not even church… seriously, that’s once a week and most of our lives we spent driving an hour or so one way to the church we were called to.

School was it.

Don’t laugh!  Yes, we homeschool.  I mean St Johns County.  The kids will be going to college at St. Johns River State – Christina and Becky are active now, but based on normal college-bound years, we will be driving to and from that campus for 20 years (if we aren’t blessed by any further editions of Tarts).  We love St Johns County (yes, it’s extremely pricy and super hard to rent or buy land here, but it has been awesome home-schooling here and we love the people!).  St Johns County has a fascinating, amazing array of trade school and college opportunities for our children – I mean, seriously, our teenagers are college-course-takers.  Christina’s credit hours mean she’s entering her sophomore year of college as she enters her junior year of high school!  Several young friends I know have graduated FCTC and entered directly into the job force at 17 & 18 years old.  Two make more than me!  So, educational opportunities are our standard constant that won’t change for quite some time.  Plus St Johns County puts us equidistant from Embry-Riddle in Daytona and University of Florida in Gainesville (the goal schools of the first three).

This means, proximity and ease of driving to and from the campuses of St Johns River College and First Coast Technical College is the “location” part of our choice.  SR 207 out to Hastings, up behind Masters just along the city boundary, over 16 and north along US1 to the old trash road east of Palencia: any open-rural or agricultural property in that range is fair territory.

Both of Louis’ grandmother’s houses are in this range (Wouldn’t one of those be so awesome?  To live in your grandparent’s house!) and the house we currently live in is just off that perfect spot, but close enough that yes, we’d buy this land if we could (build a cozy house in the other corner of the land and knock this rotting thing down, but we love the land!) and I like Wildwood Drive.  While driving Christina to CAP one day, we saw a “for sale” sign in the yard of a beautiful concrete block house off of Lewis Speedway & Woodlawn on a bit of land.  Nice location.  Louis pointed out that one was near CAP, which three more plan on joining.

Anyway, location, location, location: OR or AG in easy driving range of St Johns River & FCTC.

The realization that we will be driving students back and forth from one of two college campuses for 20 years… wow, just wow.  That’s pretty cool.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

A Family Journal

June 2, 2019

A Family Journal

I’ve been working on two projects for each of my children.  One was a crocheted blanket for each – king size, crafted from their favorites in a pattern they chose.  I’ve only completed one.  The second is about 15 rows from completion, but I haven’t worked on it since Thea was born.  It took me 17 months for the first half of Christina’s, but during one superbowl at Louis’ dad’s house, I completed the other half!  So I’m fast, but it will likely be the next week I have off – and then I’ll start on the third of seven.

The second was started in December 2016.  It looks like a simple book, right?

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Actually, I started a journal for Christina.

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It tells family stories, I write my Bible study notes, discuss issues, and write my prayers.  I tell “her story” from my perspective starting from the last page moving forward.  I saved the fourteen pages in between this story and my “journal” for family.  I am going to ask women in our family to write encouragement and blessing to her in their own hand in the journal before I pass it on to her.

I’ve got a central core of stories I will have in each journal – all will be slightly different because I never write the same exact words each time.

I want to write all the wisdom I’ve heard in stories from my grandmothers, mothers, fathers, and mentors in a way my children can read them when they choose.  Maybe they will be encouraged, challenged, or just smile realizing that they are not alone in a struggle they feel slightly too proud or too embarrassed to ask for help about.  I try to relay life and our journey in these bits.  I manage to write at least once a week and direct most of my writing as if I’m talking to her.  This also helps me to process my thoughts.  I also have a required study day if I forget. (Which, yes, sometimes I read without studying, but at least once a week I remember to write my study!)

Such a simple little book.  It holds our family memories, stories, and encouragement for a young woman.  (I need to get busy on Becky’s as they are growing up too quickly for me!)

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

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