Memories from Matt Christians

Ten years ago today we lost one of the most amazing guys, and one of my best friends! I don't need to write about all the stuff in the hospital, or about how I heard about the accident, you did an amazing job! I just wanted to write a few small stories that I remember sharing with Derrick.

I remember...

I spent the night at your parents' house across from Kelloggsville Church to hang out with Tim and Derrick. We were probably around 8 or 9years old and had been shooting our little yellow and red recurve bows obsessively. I'm pretty sure we kept the local archery shops in business because we had to buy so many new arrows because our old ones were stuck in trees, bushes, or buried in the grass too deep for us to find. We thought we were pretty cool, and I'm sure we were! We would watch hunting shows at night and then wake up and go shoot bows. This morning we had planned a little something for the squirrels that lived in the giant tree behind your house. We were going to hide out in the back yard with our bows and wait until the squirrels came down the tree. If the squirrels came out that morning, we were convinced that our finely honed skills, and dull, wooden, aluminum pointed arrows would take down an squirrel that came into sight. We planned our hunt probably better than any 8 year old ever has. We walked through the shoe-porch and quietly closed the door behind us so the squirrels wouldn't hear us as we got into position. I don't know how well we thought we would be hiding, but we were probably about as hidden as 3 young boys can be in a freshly mowed backyard. We had this amazing plan, but it started to rain. It didn't take much discussing for us to decide that we were going to sit out and "hunt" anyways. Thinking that we were the ultimate hunters, we took pieces of wood, plastic, and Styrofoam and built 3 huts, all in a line, in the middle of your backyard. There we sat under scrap pieces of stuff from your garage, determined, dry, and armed as heavily as our parents would allow. We waited for a while, bows in hand, and finally got bored with it. We couldn't figure out what had gone wrong with our plan. Being eager to shoot our bows anyways, we launched a few arrows towards the big tree and talked about how "we would have gotten one for sure," but the rain must have kept them holed up in their nests. Not our most successful hunt to date, but one I'll never forget.

 
I remember...

I was over at your parents' house again shortly after Derrick got the "racing saturn." We were both so excited to be able to drive and now Derrick had his own car! We were grown up now. We had heard people say they had to do some work on their car, and now that Derrick had his own car we figured we had to find some part of it to work on. Neither of us had any idea what part of his car we could work on. It ran, steered, had 4 tires and a steering wheel, we had to really dig deep to find something on the saturn to "work" on. We got it. It needed an oil change and the tires could be rotated, we thought anyways. So we took off the tires and got all greasy and felt pretty good when the 4 tires were back on. We now looked like guys working on their car! Perfect! Now to change the oil. We first had to go buy oil. We spent 30 minutes driving around trying to find the right type of oil and how much his car needed. Back in the driveway we set out to find out where in the world you go about draining the old oil, so we could put our new, high-performance (I'm sure that's the type we used) oil into the car. We looked and looked. We consulted the car manual and figured out that the oil filter and drain bolt were obviously in the most hard-to-reach place under his low-riding car. We squeezed under the car taking turns trying to figure out how we were going to get a wrench on the bolt and the oil filter. After 45 minutes of searching, and another hour of working and talking about how car manufacturers could make the location of all these pieces much more accessible, finally we got it, and I don't' think we were ever so proud of ourselves when we crawled out from under the Saturn completely covered in oil and small rocks from the driveway. We figured we were experienced enough now to ask your parents if they needed an oil change. It took some convincing, but we were persuasive and experts at changing 1 car's oil. Off to the oil store. We spent another 30 minutes driving around trying to find a different type of oil for your parents' car. When we got back we learned that not all oil filters and drain bolts are located in same place. After another hour and a half or so of laying on the ground, and scratching our knuckles and arms on the underside of the car and on the pavement, we were sufficiently covered in oil and certain that we had gotten enough of the new oil in the car to make it run much better than it had before. We spent the whole summer afternoon changing the oil on 2 cars, and I think about it every time I bring my car in to Valvoline to get my oil changed.

I remember...

 

There were many day’s at Cowden lake when we spent most of, if not all of our time out on a boat fishing. We would go out in a canoe, paddle boat, the row boat, or the speed boat. If we were going fishing, it didn’t matter. When we were freshmen in High school we fished all day. I think we only stopped once to get lunch and we fished until well after dark. As we made our way around the lake for the 10th time, and it was by now pitch black. Derrick heard some people on shore talking by a campfire. He told me “I bet there are some girls there that we should meet. We should fish close to shore and see if any of them are hot!” So we passed by within casting distance of their dock and could hear people talking but couldn’t see any of the girls. Derrick said, “I bet if we cast out and snag their dock they’ll come out on the dock to see what’s going on. Then we can meet them!” The plan sounded flawless to me. We went by the dock again and both casted and snagged the dock severely. Derrick shook his pole drastically so the spinner bait blades would jingle on the wooden dock. The people around the campfire looked over to see what was going on, and who in the world was fishing so close to the dock in the dark. “Sorry, we snagged your dock accidentally! Derrick said innocently. None of the people around the fire got up. “I can’t believe you casted onto their dock!” I said loud enough for the camp-fire crew to hear. No one budged around the fire. We got the boat up to the dock to free our lures. By then the people had all gone back to chatting. I couldn’t stop laughing as we tried to untangle our lures from the planks of the dock. After a lot of blind twisting and pulling we were unhooked. “Sorry for hooking your dock,” I said. As we pushed the boat away from the dock, Derrick smiled and said, “They were all too old anyways!”

10 Years Today

So in the "blogging" world, most would say I've failed.  I have not been a faithful writer contributing post after post to this blog.  But in my own estimation, this blog was the perfect outlet for me as a chance to "share" a bit of my story...Even if it wasn't a blog that has kept on, it accomplished what I needed it to, for me personally. 

I've just completed almost 17 hour of shopping.  My mom, my sister and I got in line last night at Toys R Us around 6pm and stood in the wind and rain and simply nasty weather to wait almost 2 hours for the store to open.  We walked into the store and were dumbfounded.  There were people around rushing and racing to find that perfect "deal" and we just sort of stood there.  We had nothing on our lists that we were dead set on finding in that store at the moment.  There was a news man standing nearby and he sort of watched us and followed us around.  He asked the question several times - so really you have nothing on your "list"??  To which all of us answered NO.  We had gifts we were looking for and things we sort of had our eye on but no "hot item" to get us into the store.  He was so confused!  Why in the world would these three crazy ladies wait in line in the wind and the rain for black friday shopping without a mission?  I wandered away for a moment and came back only to find a camera on my mom and my sister and a microphone in their faces with the reporter asking "WHY?"  Why do you do this?  And our answer is uniformly the same.  It's tradition.  It's family time.  It's a chance for us to get out together, hang together, chit chat, spend time together - and the shopping - well that's just a bonus! 

It's true, being able to spend time together and make memories together is such a gift - one that should not be taken lightly.

As I remember this week 10 years ago - the accident, the hospital, the visitations, the funeral, and (lets not forget) the football, I can say with full confidence that God is a faithful God.  We may never understand his plans for us but He is faithful.  He will never leave us nor forsake us.  He loves us and cares for us like no earthly person could.  When we grieve, he grieves with us.  When we celebrate, he celebrates with us.  He was and is and is to come!  Today God I praise you and I thank you for the work you are doing in my life and through the life of Derrick. 

"To God be the glory, now and forever, now and forever. Amen!" 

Heaven

Revelation 21

A New Heaven and a New Earth

 ¹ Then I saw “a new heaven and a new earth,”^[a] for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. ² I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. ³ And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ⁴ ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’^[b] or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”
 ⁵ He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”
 ⁶ He said to me: “It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To the thirsty I will give water without cost from the spring of the water of life. ⁷ Those who are victorious will inherit all this, and I will be their God and they will be my children.

biblegateway.com

Players Win for Fallen Teammate

One Last Christmas - Matthew West Official Music Video

My Story Part 3

So as I write this I'm feeling like I'm way behind the 8-ball.  Like, why didn't I do this sooner?  Why am I writing this now?  It seems a bit like old news but now that I've started I guess I feel like I might as well continue. 

The next hours were a blur.  I don't remember leaving the hospital.  I don't remember getting in my car or the ride home.  I don't remember how that piece of the journey ended.  I walked in the house and was lambasted with emotion.  Derrick's things were there.  His presence was felt there.  I didn't want to have to walk past his bedroom.  I didn't think I could do it.  I didn't want to go in.  Somehow I was forced in.  His sheets were disheveled.  I could smell him.  I could hear his voice calling me "Seestor!"

That day we had to go to the funeral home.  Stroo funeral home in Cutlerville. was the same place that was used for my Grandma C. and so it seemed like the natural place to go.  Likewise, Pine Hill Cemetery holds stones for Gram C, Grandpa C. and Uncle Johnny.  I remember hearing my parents say they might as well buy three plots in the cemetery so they will be buried by Derrick.  How awful that was to think of losing my parents too and the reality of that at such an awful time.  We all met at the funeral home together.  We were escorted to a room in the basement.  I had been in this funeral home for a number of visitations but never paid much attention to the basement.  Seems sort of fitting that the basement is where we sat and discussed the details of burial.  The funeral home director asked us if we would be putting the information in the paper and gave us a timeline that we had to finish writing the obituary.  My dad had come with a draft that we reviewed and ok'ed.  We talked about times we would hold visitation, when and where the service would be held, and then we were taken to the room with caskets.  I saw a small child's casket in the room and thought how awful too that must be.  I thought it quite strange to be "shopping" for a casket.  The price tags were high which seemed a bit ridiculous.  There were many styles.  I thought how unimportant it was to pick a certain style for something that simply gets buried into the ground but my parents helped us choose something special.  It's as though they had the foresight to know that standing at visitation and being at the funeral we would be looking at the casket and it would be nice to have something special.  There were trophy bass on each corner of the casket.  We chose flowers for the top that included some grasses and we put an arrow in them.  There was a larger floral arrangement that I think said son and brother and then a smaller arrangement for the casket that said "Uncle."

We began talking about the funeral service.  My dad knew there was no way that he as a pastor could give the message at the funeral of his son.  Ken Schripsema, the former youth pastor at Kelloggsville, was asked to speak at the funeral.  He joined us in our living room that night.  We were all just sitting there, waiting for someone to say something.  My dad, the pastor, chimed in "This sucks."  Now to most of you, those words might not be significant but I to hear those words come from my dad almost made us laugh.  My dad doesn't speak like that.  My mom used to rag on us for using the word "sucks."  Never before had I hear my dad say that.  And yet, it was so totally profound that he was there - able to admit and say outloud what we were feeling.  We all knew there were no words and so my dad's word choice in this situation left me thinking "You're right dad.  The everyday words we use don't have the possibility of describing this."  My dad is a man who is extremely strong in his faith and has lived that my entire life.  He has daily modeled unselfish, unending love to me even when I haven't been good at reciprocating and so hearing him say those words to me almost had the a similar conotation as the words "Jesus Wept" in John 11:35.  It was a firm reminder of our humanity.  Anyway, we talked with Ken about what we had so far thought the service might look like.  We shared what we wanted him to talk about in his message.  And he shared with us.  It was a time of weeping, a time of pain, and yet a time of sharing sweet memories and things we could include to make the service special. 

My dad and I were basically the ones who then put the rest of the service together.  We had to get an order to the funeral home director so that they could get the funeral service programs printed.  I remember feeling so busy and feeling like I had a purpose admidst my grief.  The conclusion of the day of the funeral was profound in that the support from visitation was no longer anticipated, the funeral was over, and we had the holidays just around the corner.  It was sort of a similar let down to what it feels like after planning a wedding.  While one is in joy and one is in pain, both are events that people spend months (or hours) rushing to plan, trying to think of the details, putting in emotional energy, and I know I felt after we got married a bit of a let-down when coming home from the honeymoon in regards to where my time and energy was being directed.  My brain had to slow down.  The schedule slowed down.  This big anticipated even was finished.

That Saturday afternoon while we were meeting with funeral directors, Derrick's football team was playing in the state Semi-Finals.  What happened in that game exploded on the news that night.  Derrick's team had won the game with a final score of 42 points - exactly the number Derrick wore on his jersey.  I wondered what it was like to be at the game.  While it was not possible for us to be at the game, nor do I think we could have emotionally handled a crowd at that point, my dad over and over again lamented that were not there.  My parents have followed all of us kids in our sports endeavors and have almost never missed a game.  My dad read through the stats of the game and spoke over and over again of how thrilled he was with how Derrick's teammates, Derrick's friends, played.

Tom spent the night at my parents house that night.  His parents were still on vacation and driving home seemed like such a task.  We fell asleep on the couch.  I knew at that moment that God had given him to me (for among other reasons) to help calm my soul.  Had he not been there I would have never slept.  I slept hideously as it were but having him there, holding me, allowed me to fall asleep. 

Sunday morning we didn't go to church.  It seemed like vit was appropriate to wait to have to greet people at visitation.  Instead of going to church that morning, we went shopping.  We had visitation Sunday, Monday and the funeral Tuesday.  I needed some new clothes - not that I knew how in the world to pick something out to wear at my brother's funeral but regardless we had to be dressed up three days in a row.  I didn't feel like I had three days worth of appropriate clothes.  I had just bought a black vest so I wore that with a white shirt and black skirt for the funeral.  I have no idea what I wore for visitation (certainly not important). 

I remember seeing cars come and go that morning from the church parking lot and wondering what it was like to be there.  I felt like people were just staring at our house.  Part of me wanted to go see them.  Part of me wanted to hide.  At that time Kelloggsville Church was really a family to us.  I felt like I was missing out on something that the rest of my church family was taking place in.  I didn't know what or why I felt this way but I certainly wondered...How did they say the news to the congregation?  I'm sure many had seen the paper but my dad being a pastor there, I'm sure they had to say it again.  Who said it?  How did the congregation respond?  Did they have a message that day?  What songs did they sing?

That night was our first night of visitation.  Surprisingly, I, the girl who's always late, was the first to get to the funeral home.  I walked in and the doors to the room were closed.  They did however have Derrick's name on a sign over the top of the door.  It seemed so odd to see his name there.  It didn't belong over that door.  It was heart wrenching.  I have been back to Stroo a few times for visitations since Derrick's and seeing the name plate over the door gets me every time.  I see Derrick's name.  It wasn't supposed to be that way! 

Since the room at this point was empty, the casket seemed like it was so far away as it was on the other end of the room.  Flowers had already begun to flood the funeral home.  I had helped pick out the clothes that Derrick would be dressed.  We picked a plaid light blue American Eagle shirt with jeans.  I wondered why it looked so different on him in the casket.  It wasn't until a bit later that I realized it looked different because they had tucked his shirt in so it was quite tight to his skin - not a way he wore his everyday clothes.  Most of the time his shirts went untucked.  His hands were also laid on top of each other in such a formal fashion on his stomach.  im's friend Rob had been with Tim the entire night in the hospital.  Rob brought a shotgun shell and tucked it into Derrick's hands.  Derrick was wearing a necklace he bought in Ensenada when we were there on a MOSES trip.

All three days the funeral home was packed.  Steph had flown in from New Mexico.  I have no idea when I first saw her or what I said but I know she spent all of her time at the funeral hanging out with Nasreen just staying around in case we needed anything.  My sister recalls having Nasreen go get her different clothes.  I just remember them being there.  We saw countless friends - some long time friends, some we hadn't even seen in a long time.  Tom and I were engaged just three weeks prior to this and the obituary stated Lisa and her "fiancee" so many people came to use congratulating us and offering sympathy at the same time.  People were so supportive.  Sooo many people said "I can't believe you're doing this!  How are you doing this?!"  It's true - only by the grace of God.  None of us wanted to be there but people were praying us through.

So many dear ones found different ways to support us and love us through this time.  I called my college roommates (Stacy, Afton and Lindsey) and asked them if they could come clean my bedroom at home.  My mom's best friend from Iowa was coming for the week and would be staying in my room but the dresser needed dusting, sheets had to be washed, the junk on my floor needed to be cleaned up.  Afton brought a very bland chicken noodle soup knowing full well that my stomach goes crazy with stress and a bland chicken noodle soup is something my stomach would be able to tolerate.  Tim had suggested using the country song "Go Rest High" for the slide show and so I sent Steph and Heather on a mission to find that. 

Mr. Moes, one of Tim, Derrick's and my former teachers, stopped by the house with a large pot of soup.  I answered the door and he couldn't even talk.  He just offered his gift and cried.  I knew he enjoyed cooking and I felt the love that had been poured into that.  I can still picture him handing me the pot of soup.  I tried saying thank you and it's as though he couldn't even accept my thanks.  He just trembled and cried and then left.

Visitation was tiring.  It was a time of celebrating Derrick's life while grieving his death.  I remember thinking his friends - just juniors in high school were too young to have to come to something like this.  I held many of their hands and walked with them up to the casket.  All the while we collected memories and thoughts from them that would be read at the funeral.

Again the verse resonates:

Thessalonians 4:13  "Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope."

My Story, Part 2

Part 2

So somewhere between midnight and 10am we received the news more officially and had to come to grips with a new reality - one none of us wanted to accept.  The next hours were spent meeting with doctors, waiting, already feeling the exhaustion…

I remember the nurse, Mary, walking back by the room.  I don’t think she was even assigned to Derrick’s care but again my mom grabbed her.  My mom asked her if we would be able to go in and see Derrick.  She didn’t just mean if we would be allowed in the room – we all wanted to know – what did he look like?  Could we do it?  Could we see him this way?  I grieved for my mother who works as a nurse for patients who are all on ventilators.  She had always said she prays that she would never have to see someone who she loves so much on a vent…especially not one of her children.  This night she didn’t get the option.  Derrick was on a vent.  I remember the rhythmic sound of it when I entered the room, the steady, cold, surreal sound of it.  A machine was breathing for my brother.

I don't know if my mom has ever seen Mary again but the way I remember her, she was an angel for us that night.  She answered tough questions.  She gave direct answers.  And her confidence that we would be able to see Derrick lying in that hospital bed gave me confidence to enter that room.

When I think of a tragedy like this one I imagine that the body of a victim of such an accident would be bloody, bruised, broken, distorted.  While Derrick did have a large bruise on his head and around his eye the rest of his body seemed “normal.”  I almost feel like I remember one of my siblings commenting how proud he would have been to have such a shiner on his eye.  Maybe I made that up.  Derrick was lying on his back - his hands in front – very similar to the position we would see him in the coffin.  I remember thinking that the strong muscles I had commented on to him just hours earlier were now lifeless.    

There is a lot I don’t remember from this night.  It pains me.  I don’t remember when we finally were allowed in the room.  I don’t remember who went first or if we went all together.  Once we were allowed into ICU we walked a ways down the hall so I feel like the room was hear the end of the hallway or a corner room.  The walk down that hallway felt dark and cold.    

Saying goodbye to Derrick was the hardest thing.  When my Grandma Christians went on to heaven many of us had the chance to say goodbye to her in her hospital room.  I remember Derrick grabbing her hand, kissing it and softly saying “Goodbye Grandma, I love you.”  I found it significant the way he said those words.  He said goodbye with such confidence.  Words I didn’t even want to think – he said out loud.  I trust that the words he uttered he said with confidence knowing this isn’t the end.  God’s promises for us are true!  Lucky for Derrick his parting from Grandma was a much shorter time than the rest of us. 

I used the same words, the same touch of the hand as I said goodbye to Derrick.  Boy these are hard memories to revisit.  Tears stream my face.  More to come…later…