Merry Christmas!

Christmas greetings from the Trumbo family!

For the first time since 2009 I am not going to be getting Christmas cards out this year! It pains me to no end, but I promise its just a one-year hiatus and next year our smiling faces will once again grace your mailbox.  Between a new puppy, a new HVAC system and 4 kids worth of activities, it seemed like a good year to save money and time and go digital!  Also, without the constraints of pretty Christmas paper and print margins, I am able to ramble on and on …. You’ve been warned.  

2019 has been a good year for our family.  As always, we have been challenged to grow through numerous trials (burst pipes, mold, sickness, job changes, broken appliances) but as ever, the Lord shows us again and again that we have nothing to fear with Him by our side.

Jane Dare turned 10 in September and is enjoying 4^thgrade.  For the first time in many years she is the only Trumbo at Pinehurst Elementary School.  Between her social life and her gymnastics schedule she stays very busy – but Driz likes busy!  She was moved up to Gold team at her gym which means she now practices 3 days a week for 3 hours at a time.   Her competitive season will begin in January – which will make for some long weekends. This year we will head to Virginia Beach, Charlotte, Raleigh, Winston Salem and Athens, GA…. And that’s just the regular season!   She continues to delight us with her social insight and amaze us with her self-confidence.  

Reid is 11 (12 next month) and after a couple small bumps he is now happily chipping away at 6^thgrade.  His sense of humor often finds him making Ainsley and her friend’s laugh during their shared study hall.  After a couple of frustrating soccer seasons, Reid decided to go out for wrestling and we are incredibly proud of how hard he is working.   After a long day at school he has 2.5 hours of practice each day.   This sport is a perfect match for Reido-torpedo and although the meets are LOOOONNNNGGGG, it’s worth it when he takes the mat.  Reid is a compassionate and thoughtful kid and we never get tired of watching him care for those around him.  

Ainsley will be 14 at the end of this month and it’s been a joy to watch her come into her own in 8^thgrade.  She has matured so much this year – she is working hard on her grades with big goals. Of course, if you follow me on social media at all you know that Ains’s passion is music and we never tire of hearing her beautiful voice coming from her room.  Ainsley is caring, thoughtful, helpful, and AMAZING (Jane Dare took over my computer to write this and far be it from me to delete!!!).  Showing us her perseverance, Ainsley was selected for the NC Middle School Honors Choir.  She has discovered a new love for reading and has a wonderful team of teachers at school.  She is growing in her faith and we love to hear the stories of her sharing her love for Jesus with those around her.  Ainsley also joined the cross country team this year and it was no small thrill to her mama to watch her – she is a natural! 

Jake is 15 and a freshman at Pinecrest High School.  This school year has been a wonderful time of growth for him and has been an answer to so many prayers.  We are continually reminded that God created Jake and has a plan for him that we can’t even imagine.  The block schedule at school – which means just 4 classes per semester – has really allowed Jake to focus in and do well in all of his classes.  Even math honors!!!  But Jake has really shined in his speech class.  Having a near photographic memory and zero fear of performing means Jake is killing it in speech.

Lacey continues to struggle to fill her days with more than bon bons and long baths.  Which is why we decided to get a puppy!  And Lacey got a job!  Ok, enough 3^rdperson.  Last January I started working for a local endodontist doing marketing, among other tasks.  It’s very flexible and part time and makes me wonder how on earth moms who are employed full-time manage it all.   While being a mom to 4 little kids was physically exhausting, parenting 4 teens and tweens is exhausting on a level I couldn’t have prepared for.   Between tutoring and lessons and practices and orthodontist appointments and after school clubs and youth group and Young Life and trying to have family dinners and a clean house I don’t get a lot of down time.  For this reason I am beyond grateful for the opportunity to spend a week in Montana as part of a Spouse Performance Program with a non-profit for military families like ours.  The friendships I gained, tools I learned and insights I took away from this week were, in short, life changing.  I am so very blessed.  I’m still running and biking and just incredibly grateful for the adventures this body puts up with (and for science and injections that let my poor knees keep moving!). 

After 8 years at the same unit it was time for Ryan to move on.  He was given a beautiful farewell ceremony last May that my parents and his brother were able to attend.  It was very special for our kids and family members to hear the impact Ryan has had during his time at an elite organization.  Change has not been easy.  A famous song says “you don’t know what you’ve got til its gone”.  On the contrary, we were well aware of what we had, and appreciated it fully, and being on the other side has really sucked at times. But I am incredibly proud of my husband and the fact that he always gives 100% and no matter what organization he is with, his reputation garners respect.  Its hard to believe that in only 4 ½ years he will be retirement eligible.  There was a time we couldn’t imagine retirement.  But after 16 years it becomes more and more appealing.  Rather than separations becoming easier, we dislike them more and more as time passes. As Ryan says “it seems we’ve become dependent on one another”.  We were proud to watch Ryan run his first marathon this year!  He swears he is one and done, but we will see. 

As we look to 2020 we prepare for some time apart in January and February.  Just as gymnastics competition season kicks off, musical theater practices begin, and wrestling is still in full swing.  On the horizon I’ve got 2 kids starting Drivers Ed this summer and so maybe, just maybe, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  But in the meantime I’ll enjoy my endless miles and hours in the car for the precious time it gives me to listen and laugh along with my crew. 

We wish you a blessed and happy new year!  

The middle school years

I remember about 5 years ago, watching Ainsley walk into school and excitedly greet everyone that she knew. It was the same every day, no matter who was there, she was thrilled to see them.  Once it was a friend’s daughter who was approaching middle school age, and I am sure, very uncomfortable in her own skin and mortified to get attention from a much younger kid.  Ainsley ran up to her to say hello.  She was barely acknowledged and the girl quickly sped past her.  Mostly undaunted, Ainsley went on her way and didn’t let it bother her.

I look at Ainsley today, and though she is fully in those awkward middle school years, she still spreads her love towards everyone.  I watch her greet those younger than her with pure love and enthusiasm that makes them light up.  A couple of weeks ago she and Ryan went on a father-daughter retreat and she gave special attention to a little friend who was about 8 years old.  Ryan told her how nice that was and Ainsley responded “when I was 8 I would’ve thought it was the coolest thing in the world if a 13 year old wanted to be my friend”.

This year has been full of bumps.  The disappointment of not being selected for state honors choir (by 1 point), the humbling experience of a small role in the school play, struggles with trying to manage her friend group, along with the realization of where she fits in in on the social hierarchy of popular kids at school.  I watch all of these experiences coming at her and my heart just aches because I want to make it all right.

But, one day, she will be an adult.  And she will get knocked down.  But.  But. But.  She will know how to get back up, because she has done it before. She will face disappointment.  But she will have the skills to handle it with grace.  She will negotiate relationship struggles but her world won’t crumble because she will have the self-assurance that there is light on the other side.  

But most of all, she will have the most kind and loving spirit of anyone I’ve ever met.  And that isn’t something we had to teach her.  That is just who she is.  

Let There Be Grace

A few years ago I got off the bandwagon of guilt that is resolutions.  Since then I’ve just been the curmudgeon at the gym who can’t wait for everyone to go back to being their old selves and stop taking all the bikes in RPM class.

This morning I woke up (after a night with no NYE fanfare) to my cup of coffee, my phone and a few minutes of peace before I headed out on my run.  As I plopped down on my couch and began to mindlessly scroll through my phone for entertainment I was impressed with the desire to put my phone down and spend a few minutes in prayer.  I am, admittedly, terrible at praying.  I hate that, despite the fact that I’ve been a believer for 35 years, it still isn’t innate for me to spend time with the Lord like that.  So, when the desire hits I am grateful.  

It wasn’t an eloquent prayer.  It was short, filled with distraction and a roaming mind.  But a word was central in it, and I felt the pull to claim it as my word for 2019.  

Grace.

I want my first thought to be grace.  When there is an opportunity to look for hurt or find grace, I want to choose grace.  When a careless comment happens out of someone’s mouth I want to choose grace instead of a snappy comeback.  When I see an event that I was left out of, I want to choose grace.  Rather than to make up a scenario where I was excluded out of spite to instead assume there is a much less sinister (and sensical) reason.  When there is an opportunity to be annoyed or perceive bragging or selfishness in others, let me choose grace.  Because the Lord knows, I need ALL the grace I can possibly get from those in my life. 

I know that I get so laser focused on getting through the day that I often neglect to reach out to those around me or to pick up the phone and make a call to a loved one that I know would appreciate it.  And those loved ones so often give me grace in that shortcoming.   I love my time with my family and husband so much that it can be hard to make the time to invest in the friends around me who may also may need some love.  I also let myself be too distracted by social media and other distractions that take too much time that I could be directing to people in my life.  And yet those people, my tribe give me grace. 

My prayer for 2019 is that I would follow the example of my tribe and spread the grace far and wide. 

Today

I sit on the couch.  I feel so lethargic.  I sat down an hour ago and I have accomplished nothing.  There are things to do.  Bathrooms to clean.  Groceries to be bought.  Errands to be run.  But nothing is urgent.  And so I can't make myself get up.

Today, I just don't care.

Yesterday I was at the gym, looking in the mirror while putting on my makeup. I'd had a good swim workout but I felt unease.  As I swiped on my mascara a thought came into my head.  Belinda is dead.  I froze.  How can that be? It still feels so unreal.  This summer, we went from having her here in our home, to having her at hospice, to losing her.  The patterns changed.  But now, I'm back to the same pattern as before all of this happened.  Dropping kids at school, cleaning the house, running to the store, going to the gym.  It all feels exactly the same.  

But its not.

I would have thought that I'd slowly be getting used to the idea that her human body does not exist on this earth anymore.

 But I'm not.

And today it just makes me want to sit here and ignore every responsibility I have.

 But I won't.

Three weeks.

Can it really only have been 3 weeks since I kissed her cool forehead goodbye?

In some ways it feels like a year.  I guess that's how grief goes.  I have felt a lifetime worth of emotions these last 3 weeks.  Cried more tears than I knew a body could produce.  I feel like I'm walking around with a gaping wound.  There is no healing.   If I get a few minutes reprieve it takes nothing to rip it raw again.  Driving past her nail salon.  Seeing her car still parked in my drive.  Yesterday morning I ran past her oncologist office where we sat and talked about the 6 months we had left with her (not quite, dear doctor, not quite) and I had to push myself not to stop right there and cry.

I open up TimeHop on my phone and see a post from 7 years ago when she drove from Ohio to watch our babies so we could go to a wedding.  I sign Jane Dare up for soccer and think how much she would have LOVED to be at those games.  I walk upstairs and it still smells like her.  I stuff her 3 favorite sleeping pillows under my bed because I can't fathom what else to do with them.  I've dealt with 99% of her possessions.  I did it quick, like ripping off a band-aid.  The man at Goodwill asking, kindly, if I was moving or just purging.  But the things that are left leave me undone.  Her basket of hair clips (she must have had hundreds), her favorite pictures, letters from her best friend written shortly before Christy died in 1969.

Jake comes to me tearfully, fearful for what 7th grade holds.  I don't know what to say.  I feel so depleted.  Nonny would know.  And she would be praying so hard.

My husband.  He misses his mother so deeply its painful to watch.  When we are all hurting so deeply its tempting to turn away.  But I force myself to stay.  He needs me, and I want it that way.

Being married to a psychologist I'm well aware that there is a process to grief.  Stages.  Funny how when you're in the middle of it those stages make no sense.  I can't see a beginning or end.  I can feel all 5 simultaneously.  Well, maybe 4.  Not the acceptance part.

My poor children.  They are dealing with the shell of a mother this summer.  I am short-tempered.  Emotional.  Sad.  They are so tired of seeing me cry.  I think they will be as relieved as I am on the first day of school.  

I'm often asked what we need.  Unfortunately, there is no easy answer.

Mourning

A tragedy has come to our family.

This morning, my beloved mother (in-law) passed into the arms of her loving Savior. 

On May 16^th we found out that she had a mass on her pancreas.  68 days later she is gone.

I know that we can (and will) rejoice that her pain and suffering is over.  That after a life filled with hardships she is being lavished with love by her Heavenly Father.

But right now, it just hurts so freaking bad. 

I am sitting here struggling to put into words what she meant to us.  She was the most selfless, loving, thoughtful, giving, committed Christ follower that I will ever know.

She loved her 3 sons with every ounce of her being.  She poured herself into those boys and her face shone when they surrounded her.  They would roll their eyes at her advice (oh she was strong-headed and stubborn) but her advice was always based on truth and love.  You’ve never seen 3 boys love their mom like these boys.  In his 41 years of life Ryan has never had a cross word with his mother.  That’s the kind of woman she was, and the kind of sons she raised.

She loved her daughters-in-law as if they were her own daughters.  When I knew she was proud of me, I felt like I was floating.  Because her words were true, and she wasn’t stingy with her praise, but it wasn’t cheap either.  When Ryan and I met 22 summers ago, on a missions trip overseas, she was specifically praying for Ryan’s future wife.  And she treated me with love, patience and kindness all of the days that I knew her.  Oh how I wish I had spent more time just sitting with her gaining her knowledge and wisdom.

She loved her grands.  She was blessed with 10 of them, ages 2 – 14.  And each and every one of them adores her.  Each and every one of them would probably tell you that they were her favorite.  And each of them would be right.  She used to say that every new baby was “the best one there ever was” and I know that is how she felt about her grands.  She never held herself back from them.  Even in her final year when she was sick and often couldn’t get relief, she pushed herself as much as she could to pour into them.

My heart hurts so much.

It hurts for her grands.  For the older ones who will know so acutely what they’ve lost, and for the younger ones who may not remember her.

It hurts for Molly, Chyloe and myself who will miss her guidance, her prayers over us, her willingness to always help no matter the cost to herself, her encouragement, her presence.

It hurts for her boys.  Ryan, Jared and Chad.  As Ryan says, I don’t need much in this world, but I need my mom.  I don’t know how they will begin to deal with the hole in their lives that is left without her. 

I promise, I’ll do my best to trust the Lord and to be grateful for the eternal life that she has in Him.  But if that process of working towards trust I have my moments of anger, frustration, confusion, pain, you’ll have to bear with me.  I wish I had the total peace that she did.   Because she did.  Even from day 1 she knew that her hope was in heaven.  As we started hospice she had no fear or anxiety, because she knew what awaited her, and she was ready.

So I’ll try to make her proud once again.  But it might take me a while.

-->

Two and a half weeks ago my mother-in-law, Belinda, went in for a CT scan to address nagging stomach pain that she's had for the last year.

One day later we sat in her doctor's office and heard the news that there was a large mass on her pancreas.

Three days after that we received news that blood work indicated that spots on her liver were tumors.

Three days later we sat in the office of the chief oncology surgeon at UNC Chapel Hill and listened as he explained to us that he thought it is most likely stage four pancreatic cancer.

One week ago today she underwent a biopsy of the spots on her liver that would confirm his suspicions.

And on Wednesday we received the news we didn't want to hear. The cancer has metastasized. It is stage 4. It is in her bloodstream or lymph nodes. It is terminal.

It's almost impossible to put into words what we are feeling. To explain what she means in our lives sounds too much like a eulogy. And I can't go there yet. 

But her importance to us, her value, our love for her, is inestimable.

I've been asked over and over (we have amazing friends) what we need. Right now we need prayer. For wisdom for next steps. For peace when we want to scream. For comfort for Belinda's hurting body. For our kids who can't yet understand.