tiny coincidences

Have you seen the Sondra Bullock movie called “Hope Floats?” Sondra’s character is in her early thirties, and her mom dies suddenly of a heart attack. There’s a scene where things are going perfectly for Sondra’s character, and you can hear her say in her head:

“Okay, Momma, stop pushin’.”

Though her mom is dead, the character can clearly feel her mom’s presence, influence, connection.

I’ve had some similar encounters of late. Honestly, the more I think about my dad and the man he was and his character, the more I feel myself. More thoughts of my dad, not less, allow me to move forward. I think about the freedom he found in life and how he spilled love out to so many people, and I’m able to press on.

For those of you who have lost a loved one, you’ve probably experienced these tiny coincidences, where something occurs and you know you’re supposed to be thinking of that person, you know you’re exactly where you should be, you know somehow you’re loved even in their absence.

My fiancé Drew, a fellow Aggie, suggested a long time ago that we pick an Aggie road game and go, now that we’re in the SEC. The schedule came out and we started talking about it in May, and made definite plans over the summer to attend the Alabama vs A&M game. We ended up road tripping together, and I felt a bit silly for following through with such fun plans with so much going on with my grandfather. (In the wake of my dad’s death, everything with his side of the family turned to a complete, tragic mess.) 

However, we went to Alabama and I tried to smile and enjoy time away with just Drew.

As we entered the stadium, I realized that during the last Aggie game I attended, my dad was taking his last breaths. It was hard, sure, but I knew how much Dad loved Drew and was beyond happy I had found such love. I knew he would be horrified if I had canceled fun plans and just stayed home to be sad. I kept breathing in and out and was determined to have a great time. My fiancé, so patient and understanding, deserved more than a constantly weepy future wife.

We climbed the stairs to our seats and side-stepped down the row. I couldn’t help but feel very excited to be in this famous stadium, about an hour before sunset, the sky blue and the world turning orange around us. The breeze was blowing and fans around us were pumped. It was going to be a fun game, for sure. I felt glad to be there already.

There were two couples sitting together in front of us. They turned and asked if I would take their picture, then handed me their phone. As I handed it back, one of the guys smiled up at me.

“Are you Tom’s daughter?” he asked with a huge grin. Drew told me later how he got nervous, because he feared this guy did not know the news of Dad’s death since he was so cheerful.

I smiled and nodded, forgetting entirely to be sad and just thrilled to talk of my dad. “Yes!!”

He turned to face me a bit more. “I was at your dad’s service, and you did a great job speaking. So did your brother. Your dad was a great, great guy.”

Wait, what? This guy did not look familiar. I was a long car ride from Texas, surrounded by thousands of strangers, and the dude in front of me knew my dad, knew Tom. He had never met me but recognized me from speaking at my dad’s service. How was this real?  

We went on talking, to find that this guy was a third year New York Life agent, and my dad had led several trainings he attended. My dad was the Agent of the Year in 2011, so he’d also heard him speak and seen him at some annual award stuff. This guy was a young Aggie and had traveled with his wife and another couple to the game.

“Your dad was an incredible man. How’s your mom doing? How are y’all?”

I thanked him for saying hello and told him it meant a lot as he turned back to the stadium. The teams prepared to start the game.

My face was all lit up, I am sure, at the chance to talk about my dad and see his impact on people I’d never even heard of. Drew put his arm around me and squeezed me tight. “Such a small world.” He whispered.

I couldn’t wait to tell my mom and brother about this small world encounter.

My mom texted back right away. “That’s your dad, sweet girl, telling you to have fun!”

I don’t know enough about scripture to know if that’s the Holy Spirit, or my dad’s presence, or what, but, I do know this:  the Holy Spirit moves in us and is with us always, and perhaps knows how much I need to be reminded of my dad, need to be told it’s okay to smile, need to know he would want more than anything for the three of us to keep living.

Maybe atheists or others afraid to believe in things bigger than themselves would chalk this up to coincidence. But, I cannot believe that the odds of finding someone who attended my dad’s memorial service are anywhere near reasonable, in that giant stadium. I cannot believe its just chance. I think the God who created stars and causes the leaves to change and made the ocean so beautifully blue is desperate to love us, too. Desperate for us to draw near to Him.

I have been so blessed by others as I attempt to grieve for my dad, to pick up the pieces, celebrate his legacy, and prepare to keep living. I have been blessed by close friends I’ve known for decades, (how are we so old?!) and strangers in faraway football stadiums. My family has been so taken care of, and I do not think that’s chance. I forget too easily how much God yearns for us to talk to him, to worship him, to seek him. And for whatever reason, running in to a stranger who joyfully asked me “Are you Tom’s daughter” reminded me to thank God everyday that yes, I am Tom’s daughter.

We are all, thankfully, also God’s daughters and sons.

“You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus.”  Galatians 3:26a

thanksgiving

Though I have never felt a greater sense of loss at Thanksgiving time, I have never felt more reasons to be completely flowing over with gratitude.

The first Thanksgiving after Jay Chen passed away was pretty rotten. We stood around the tailgate spot, forcing smiles, forcing jokes, enjoying a funny memory or two, and it was evident things were not the same. I wondered, how are we going to do this? How are his boys going to do this, year after year, things they once did with their dad and now can’t? How is Mary going to ever find the same joy without such a loving, devoted, hilarious husband by her side? My parents were so sad and trying so hard not to be; Jay’s brothers were the same.  I can remember, four years ago, walking around that parking lot by myself for a moment, a literal ache in my stomach, hurting for our friends and my family.

The Chenoweth’s have taught me many things, and I’ve learned that it is almost as painful to watch grief as it is to live it. So, friends, thank you. A hundred thank yous. We have been so blessed with people reminding us they’re praying for us, or telling us exactly how my dad and/or his memorial service impacted them. We have had so many ears to listen to us, share our joys and our sorrows, our moments of confusion and of clarity, of anger and of peace. I have never, ever felt alone, and I’m not sure Gentry or my mom has either. Thank you.

I get a daily bible verse emailed to me, I signed up for it while I was teaching with TFA – even if the verse wasn’t relevant to that specific day, it gave me 60 seconds to pause and think about our creator.  (You can sign up for the one I get at heartlight.org)

The verse recently was this: "Lord," Martha said to Jesus, "if you had been here, my brother would not have died." (John 11:21)

In the commentary, they ask “Have you ever been at the grave side of a loved one and wondered where Jesus was?” Jesus is with us in our moments of loss and grief. The Church is Jesus' Body and every act of kindness, support, comfort, and help is Jesus working to alleviate our grief.”

As I thought about those words, I thought, Jesus has been so good to me. I would never, ever have been able to fathom the number of notes, and acts, and prayers that we’ve received. Jesus has showered us with support & comfort. A few times I have wondered, what do the people who are not blessed with the friends and community we have do in times of great loss? I feel almost greedy allowing all of these people to love on us so well. Thank you for acting as Christ in our family’s lives.

It seems impossible to express my gratitude for Drew Prochaska. God’s timing, on so many fronts, seems perfect. Wait, isn’t that what the bible says? It has crossed my mind a few times how hard it would have been to meet someone after my dad’s death – I can be quite good at keeping people at an arm’s length, and I feel certain I would have lived with my mom until I was forty. But he was already here, already signed, sealed, delivered, and he’s not going anywhere. Thank you. A thousand thank yous.

As time has passed from that horrible night hearing the news that my dad was never coming back to us on Earth, I have found the magnitude of this loss weighing on relationships, decisions, small moments. It has been harder to simply celebrate his life, which is what we did in the beginning. It has become more real that my dad is gone  from our world – no more phone calls, no more advice, no more adventures together, no more laughing until your face hurts at something he said or did. That was it, and we must make the best of it.

But we have so many pictures, and memories, and funny stories, and practical wisdom ringing in our ears. “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right.” “You have nothing to lose by just asking.”

My dad lived large, and he made more than enough time for his wife, his kids, his family, and his friends. He took on us amazing trips and showed us the world. Even if he was just jumping off an old railroad bridge in the hill country, he showed us what it meant to live. Dad made it abundantly clear how much he loved all of us.

There’s a note on my dad’s nightstand that he wrote my mom in his choppy handwriting, while they were in New York City together for a New York Life trip a few years back.

“I love coming to this city,” he wrote, “but only when you’re with me… I am thankful God put me with you.”

Many people wonder in this world, if their husband truly loves them. They wonder if their marriage is still worth it. Many children wonder if their dad is proud of them, or wants the best for them, or even enjoys being around them. We do not doubt any of those things. We do not doubt. For that, I am immensely thankful.

 ^“No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.  For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Romans 8:37-39