Marching Forward

I am up at 4:30 am here and can not sleep. We are inexorably marching forward towards something we do not want to do, go home without Christian.

We have organized Elizabeth"s things in the living room that she will ship home. Pictures Christian has framed, clothes, books, CD's and DVD's, photos, bed clothes and special books. The men have come and packed these with great effeciency and they have been crated up and taken away.

We continue to work through the day removing things from the closets and drawers, putting pots and pans back in original boxes, returning loaned items, packing suitcases, washing clothes, curtains and bed linen. I notice however, we become quieter and more somber as the evening progresses. Tomorrow begins the end of Italy. The household contents will be packed, crated, shipped and stored.

The downstairs is Christian's domain. How does one pack up the vestiges of a persons life? Somehow it is too small a concept. Especially for someone who embraced life in such a big way. I'm drawn downstairs at see a part of his life one more time. Kay and Maja are sleeping in one of the bedrooms downstairs so I quietly turn on lights and experience who he is and what he loved. His CD collection is in the hallway, stacked in the Emergency Clean Air Mask cabinet that came from his grandfather. Bob Dylan, Simon and Garfunkel, Pearl Jam, Mozart, DC Talk, Isaiah 6, Sponge, Dave Matthews Band, Eric Clapton, Roling Stones and so many other artists grace his collection. His Tanglefoot CD lives in the Volvo I think. What a variety, but I don't think he was much for country, even though Elizabeth tried to convert him. He has huge metal and wooden signs all over the walls. Now exactly where did he get that sign that says "DEADLY FORCE AUTHORIZED stay back 20 meters" and then words in Arabic? Kuwait, I'm sure. "Wall of Drug of South Dakota", IRONHORSE, No Parking During Snow Emergency and old pipes from his Harley dominate the walls downstairs along with a "real" railroad crossing sign, including the eight inch diameter eight foot post. Dozens of license plates are stung together and displayed on the walls, Alaska and South Carolina have recently been added to his collection. The pink flamingo light shows the way to his "dressing room" He has set himself up with his own private space, seperated by beige beads hanging from the doorway. I slip through the beads hoping they will not jingle too much and wake the girls. He has wardrobes with his clothes, plastic bins packed with tee shirts and pants lovingly bought from various thrift stores and bookshelves packed with books, many books, he is a reader. Plato, Army Command Guide, Earnest Hemingway, Brothers Karamazov, Calvin and Hobbs, history books, Bible Concordances, Systembatic Theology, Becoming a Person of Influence, year books, and most precious to me, many books on Spiritual leadership.

As I turn to leave I notice his recliner and on the floor in front of it is "Preparing for Marriage God's Way" It appears that he was just recently reading it and I sigh and wonder at his devotion to do this thing called marriage and doing it the right way. He was trying and he was succeeding. My daughter was so loved and cherished. Thank you, Father.