I know that many people take a great deal of time after their loved one's passing before they start dealing with the leftover possessions, but that's not my style. I hate having a cluttered messy house and I started tackling this process not long after the funeral. It actually began on the drive home when Clint called me and asked me what we were going to do with Sarah's stuff. I told him that we would save some special items, store some items that Laura could grow into, give away some things that others can use, and finally we would throw some away. This is exactly what we are doing.
I set aside one bin for sentimental items that I wanted to keep even though they had little practical value. Sarah's lab coat, park ranger hat, caving helmet, and sheepskin coat that I bought her in 99 all went into the keepsake tub. Laura is only 2 sizes away from wearing Sarah's shoes, so those went into a separate tub that she can open in a few years. I set aside any dresses, skirts, or blouses that Laura may want to try on when she gets older. I gave all the jeans, and some other clothes to Goodwill, since I know that no two jeans fit no two women the same. I tossed some things in the trash that even Goodwill won't even take. I'm sure that Laura will choose to pass on most of these items when the time comes, but it just doesn't feel right to toss out everything right now.
I also went through Sarah's sewing table and found a memory quilt that she had started for Laura that was made out of old T shirts. I gave this to Mari to finish for us and will give it to Laura at Christmas time. I also came across a lot of items, photos, and scrapbooks that brought back many memories. I found the slideshow that our parents set up for our wedding, the video of Sarah's skydive, and a few journals that Sarah made entries in.
On one hand, it is refreshing to clean out a lot of the clutter, and also joyful to find the mementos that remind me of our time together, but it is also saddening to see the physical representation of the void that Sarah has left in our lives.
One thing I have had to learn early on is that the train doesn't stop just because of our grief. Bills have to be paid, chores have to be done, and the grass has to be mown. Back to school for the kids came
Our school district started the school year the Tuesday after the funeral which turned out to be a blessing. The activity of getting the kids ready keeps me from dwelling on my grief. "Meet the teacher" night was the same time as the visitation at the funeral home, so the week before during the funeral planning, the school had let us in to meet Clint and Laura's teachers. The school had taken care of ordering the kids school supplies.
I rode bikes with Clint and Laura to the school so that Laura could learn the route. Clint and I had to go get allergy shots on Monday. Lunches had to be packed, and bedtimes had to be returned to normal. All this activity and near normalcy seems to be best for me and the kids.
Laura is entering 5th grade this year and will be attending school with Clint who is starting 6th. Patrick is moving up to 2nd at the same school in our neighborhood. James and Andrew are in the Spanish preschool on Tuesday's and Thursday's. So this is the first year that all the kids are in school at least part time. Tuesday morning, I shuttled all the kids to school and dropped them off, Clint and Laura first, Patrick second, and James and Andrew last.
After we had survived the first day of school Jim and Mari returned to Kansas on Wednesday. At this point I was on my own. A single dad with five kids, how am I going to make it? By taking each day as it comes, by dealing with problems one at a time, by leaning on the support of friends and family, by depending on God's grace. That's how.
At some point this past summer, Clint had told me that almost all 6th graders had cell phones these days. I of course responded that I didn't care what other parents bought their kids, Sarah and I would decide when he was mature enough for a phone. Given the fact that I would be stretched more than I had in the past, I decided to buy Clint and Laura basic phones (which had been top of the line models almost 10 years ago) and programmed in all the important phone numbers of each other, grandparents, and neighbors.
With the first week of school ending and the first weekend by ourselves approaching I wanted to plan something for the kids to have fun. I had driven by the indoor skydiving company a few times on my way to work, and I thought the kids would enjoy it. I signed up the older three kids for their flights,
They had a great time, and our lives were starting to adjust to our new normal.
As relatives and friends began to filter into town, I knew that this would be a very busy 48 hours. I had gotten the house clean, bought a suit, bathed the dog, and finalized all the funeral arrangements. All that was left was to get through it.
All summer, Clint had been asking to go to Main Event for some fun. I thought that the kids needed some chance to run and play before all the sad relatives started arriving. I went by and asked about reserving a "birthday party" package. When the manager heard about our situation, she comped us the deluxe package, including bowling, lazer tag, and the rope course. My in-laws, nieces and nephew came for some mediocre pizza and some fun. Instead of flowers, the staff gave us a sympathy bowling pin, at least it hasn't wilted and dried out over the past few weeks.
That afternoon, I got the older kids dressed and ready for the visitation at the funeral home. Our nanny would stay at home with the little boys, and the older kids would come with me to see all the relatives. Once we arrived, it all got real for Clint. Up to this point he had been able to think of all this as some kind of bad dream. He refused to enter the room where Sarah's casket lay. He later called it the "sad room". Eventually once there was a crowd of people he wandered in and out, but he never got close.
I had set up a slide show for the funeral which was playing, and I brought a bunch of Sarah's scrapbooks for people to look at. I was expecting a large crowd, but I was still amazed how many people were there. Patrick's teachers showed up all in matching school T shirts. I saw friends and relatives that I hadn't seen in over 10 years. After the visitation, I got to quickly visit with a few of my extended family at their hotel before returning home for the evening.
Saturday morning, I got everyone up fed and dressed and out the door. Sure enough, Clint and Patrick got in a fight in the backseat of the truck during the 10 minutes it took to drive to the church. After I broke up that conflict and arrived at the church. Clint was feeling particularly shy, and I showed him to the preschool room where the family would assemble. Patrick walked right into the sanctuary and claimed a seat. Sarah's mom has always had an odd blueish colorization of her face due to her bad heart, but today it was particularly bad, bad enough that the pastor pulled me aside to ask if she was going to be OK.
When we got everyone inside, I had to play double duty of being a bereaved husband, and entertaining a couple of toddlers. James was acting particularly fussy, so I nodded to Allie, our nanny, to have her pull him out of the service. Tom Black spoke about how he would remember Sarah, then Kristyn Ingram spoke about how Sarah had been there for her when they lost Annabelle. I don't know how Kristyn made it though her speech, but she did a wonderful job.
The service closed with another slideshow set to "I will rise" by Chris Tomlin which is one of my favorite songs.
After the service was over, I spent the next hour visiting with all the friends and relatives that I hadn't spoken with the night before. We loaded up all the flowers and cards and returned to the house. I hung up the portrait that we had used at the service. I had asked my extended family to come over for a visit that afternoon at four. I ordered pizza and enjoyed visiting with Steve and Lindsey. After everyone had been here for an hour or so, the fatigue hit me hard and I started nodding off sitting up. Laura disappeared to stay overnight with her BFF Emily.
After everyone had gone home, and the house got quiet, the realization set in that for the rest of my time on Earth, Sarah would only exist in pictures and memories.
Planning a funeral has to be one of the most surreal experiences that the average person goes through. Exactly the time that you are most emotionally impacted, you have to plan an event that will cost thousands of dollars. Despite the bad rap that the funeral home industry sometimes suffers, everyone I dealt with was very kind, professional, and genuinely cared about my best interests both emotional and financial.
Given the fact that this would be a closed casket service and that we had no burial plans, I decided to have Sara's body shipped to DFW and then cremated after the service. I felt that this would be a good balance between the everyone's need for closure, and the cost of the this whole event. I spoke to Sarah's parents and our kids about this before making the final decision.
One thing that I did early on was to identify some good pictures of Sarah for the funeral and for the media to use. All the articles about her disappearance and death had used the pictures from the search and rescue team, which may have been the most recent but weren't exactly the most flattering. After looking through the pictures stored on my computer, I selected the picture I wanted everyone to remember her by.
I've always loved this simple candid shot of Sarah holding Laura. The lighting, expression, and smile on Sarah's face is how I will remember her.
Saturday, after dealing with the funeral home and arrangements at the church, I cleaned up the van and the house and waited for Jim, Mari and the boys to arrive. They didn't get here until after dinner which had been delivered by some of the neighbors. Jami Stripe had set up a meal train account for our family which was a great blessing. Seeing all my kids again was a moment where I could finally have some peace.
We made it to church on Sunday and enjoyed the routine and anonymity of dropping the kids off for Sunday School. I had emailed the children's minister that I didn't want anyone to make a fuss over the kids, and they did a great job welcoming us back. I spoke to Doug, the lead pastor who would be delivering the Gospel at the memorial, a few days later and expressed my gratitude to the church staff for reaching out to us when we needed them.
The next few days are a blur of errands, editing photos for the slide show, cleaning, phone calls, and meeting relatives. My parents were here to help watch the kids, but they quickly got tired of everyone being crowded in our home and moved in with some old friends living nearby. Mari helped coordinate a lot of the back to school logistics for the kids.
By the time that Thursday came around and people started arriving, I thought that I had most things under control.
The park rangers had reserved us a room at the park lodge. I helped David pack up the campsite and took the kids to where we could get some rest. Once the little boys hit the mattress, they fell sound asleep. Laura took a bath and lay down next to them, but she had trouble actually sleeping because she was thinking about what had happened.
I had the same problem as Laura, my mind was going non stop over what happened and what was going to happen in the days to come. I decided that given how many people on Facebook were messaging me, the quickest and simplest way to get the word out was to make a post with the bad news. I attached several pictures and included a brief synopsis of the circumstances of her death as I understood it at the time. I had no idea how far and wide this post would travel.
Shortly after I made my post, I saw a picture that my mother had taken of Clint an Patrick hugging and crying after my phone call. That's when I lost it and the tears came. I cried for about 30 minutes at the thought of my boys suffering so far away. I feel blessed that they were with my parents who love them so much.
The next morning, I was up as soon as there was enough light to see. I had to start making phone calls to Texas. As I stood on the walkway outside of the hotel room talking on the phone I saw a elk cow walking through the parking lot nibbling on the bushes. When Laura woke up a few minutes later, I brought her out and showed her the elk and two mule deer doe. That's when I turned around and saw the Grand Canyon for the first time since I was 10. In the first light of day it is truly spectacular. I was struck by the dichotomy of the canyon's beauty and the fact that it had taken Sarah from me.
One of the blessings through this ordeal is the fact that my responsibility to my children keeps me from dwelling on sadness or grief. The boy needed to be fed, the van needed to be packed, the campsite needed to be broken down, and my phone kept buzzing. David was a great help in all of this time, Linda watched the kids while David and I cleaned up the campsite. At this point I discovered that just because a loved one is dead, they can still aggravate you. I always hated how Sarah over packed for these trips and I hated the stupid bicycle trailer that no one ever used. I gave the bike trailer to the park rangers hoping they can put it to good use. I finally managed to get the van doors closed after throwing away a bunch of unused food, dirty dishes, and other junk.
Once we were all packed up, we headed to Flagstaff where we would meet Lawrence and make arrangements with the funeral home to care for Sarah's body. We ate lunch, meet with the mortuary, and found a playground to let the little boys have some fun. At this point I got a phone call from the funeral director who told me that the condition of my wife's body would mean that the funeral would have to be a closed casket. I felt bad because I thought the kids would need the closure of seeing their mother one last time, but this was not to be.
We met Lawrence, dropped off his rental car and hit the road. It was already late but I was anxious to get the kids home to familiar surroundings. We drove though the night, driving and sleeping in shifts. We crossed through Albuquerque in the middle of the night, ate breakfast in Amarillo, and pulled into our driveway just before noon. We were home, but the real journey was just beginning.
Two weeks since I got the phone call that upended my life. Two weeks since I became a widower. Two weeks since I became a single dad to five kids. Two weeks of running non stop making funeral and back to school arrangements. Two weeks since my old life ended and this new one began. After two weeks, I finally have some time to think and begin to process what happened.
My wife died while hiking in the Grand Canyon with my daughter and nephew. They were descending to the river to camp overnight and hike back up the next day. By the time they made it most of the way to the bottom, the temperature had climbed to 107F, they had run out of water and Laura began feeling dizzy. I'm sure Sarah instantly recognized the symptoms of heat exhaustion and her medical training kicked in. What Sarah didn't realize is that if Laura was in the early stages of heat exhaustion, the she was too.
With her mental functions and judgment compromised by the heat, she decided to leave the children in a shaded and safe spot near the trail and rush to the campsite only a mile ahead to get water and some help. She left her backpack at a trail intersection to lighten her load. Sarah met another hiker who was beginning his trip up and out of the canyon and she told him where the kids were. He told her to stay put and he would go get the kids, but for some reason she continued onward toward the camp. After she crossed the river on the black bridge she made a wrong turn off the trail and up into a side canyon where she succumbed to the heat.
The other hiker found the kids, gave them water, and escorted them into camp. When the kids arrived with no sign of Sarah, search and rescue was notified. However, by that time it was already getting dark at the bottom of the canyon and they couldn't do anything till first light. The rangers at the campground took care of the kids till the next day.
I got a phone call from the NPS search team the next morning asking me for details that they needed to begin their search which set in motion about 72 hours of nonstop activity. I clocked out of work and raced home to pack a bag, then headed straight to the airport making phone calls to key people along the way. I caught the next flight to Phoenix where I would rent a car. I called Sarah's brother, Evan's dad, my parents, and spoke to our oldest Clint on my way to the airport.
When I landed in PHX and turned on my phone, I had several messages and got a phone call from our neighbor. Apparently Sarah's disappearance had made the local news and reporters were on our front lawn. I asked her to keep an eye on the house. I called the park ranger who had been designated to contact the family and told her that I had just landed and would be driving up as soon as possible. She said that they would be waiting at the campground for me. At this point I knew that this story wouldn't have a happy ending. If there hadn't been good news after 24 hours, there wouldn't be any at all, but I wasn't really ready to admit this to myself.
I drove to the campground as fast as I could get away with, and tried to keep up with all the incoming calls and text messages. By the time I arrived the sun had set and the campground was full of tourists getting ready for bed. I parked nearby and the park rangers met me with the bad news. I had been mentally thinking about how I would break the news to the kids on the drive up, but nothing can prepare you for a little girls tears. Laura's cries were really what broke my heart that evening. I called my parents and told Clint and Patrick over the phone. My final call that evening was to Sarah's parents.
Two weeks since my whole world changed.
This was the last photo Sarah took at 2:01 pm August 1st, 2017
