Journal #1 April 23, 1999

It's a gorgeous day here, Jeremy. Always makes me stand in awe of God's creativity and in wonder of how much more beautiful heaven must be! I know you are probably still amazed at the wonder of it all. I was reminded today, Lord, of the profound difference between knowing you love me and "letting" you love me. Please give Jim, Di and Amy the courage today to "let" you love them deeper. C. (a family friend)

"Better is one day..."

Journal #3 May 27, 2001

Tears on black marble
Letters traced with my fingertips
Questions with no answers
You are missed more deeply then ink can express

Toilet paper roll fights
Golfing buddies
Hugs that seem to last forever
Remembering you, Jeremy

Earth holds less...
Heaven now promises more.

Dad

I couldn't write in the journals for a very long time. I sat poised with pen in hand so many times but nothing would come. But time passed. The words did come. For those of you who are experiencing pain, the words will come for you too. The healing will happen and you are not alone. jim

Journal #2 April 23, 2000

Happy Easter, My Friend, Jeremy! I just had a sunrise service of my own here with my son, my nephew, my mom and my step dad. So I decided to take this blessed morning to stop at some of my other friends graves. Its because of today we know you live. Much love and joy, Your former teacher, C

Journal #2 Aug 9, 1999

I thought of you today, my friend
Your smile bright and clear.
I turned to find you in the crowd
Forgetting you're not here.

But today I learned that it's ok
Your memory lives on
And I have learned to thank the Lord
For peace that you are gone.


You know I'm bad at this long distance communication thing, but I still think about you. Know that I love you, M (friend)

Journal #2 Oct 3, 1999

Hi Jer- I really wanted to come see you before this but I didn't know if I could handle it- you are the one friend I could always talk to. One of the best friends I ever had. I love you Jer. See you someday, until then remember even though I didn't always tell you, I do love you and will never forget you.


Love, S (friend)



Are you waiting to tell someone how much you love them?
Don't wait!

Journal #2 Nov 11, 1999

Well- through 2 days of putting off the pain of this visit- I had to be here... It is so hard for me to be away from all of the family when the hurt comes. I try to look around and know that you are with me, and that means there's always family there-


Just wanted to let you know I love you like my own brother, always did, and somehow this has brought me closer to my brother and I thank you for that- I carry you in my heart and soul- and I miss you everyday- A (cousin)



Don't wait for tragedy to strike before reconciling with family.
Let hope, not pain, bring you together.

Journal #2 August 9, 2000

My dad and step mom tell me quit crying and move on, but I feel that if I do, it will be being disrespectful to your memory. The last thing that I would ever want to do is be disrespectful to you. I love you.

Whenever I think of you, I think about when I helped you with your monologue in Theater class, do you remember that? It was the "St Crispan's Day" speech from Shakespeare. I also remember you lip-syncing to "Take Me to Your Leader". I almost cried when I lost the puzzle piece that I got at your funeral. It was the one physical thing that I had to remind me of you. I love you Jeremy. I always will.

Love always, B (a friend)
PS Your black marble headstone is beautiful!


Sometimes grief is confusing. As if by moving on, we're hurting someone we lost. Perhaps you've experienced the confusion -weighing when to move on and let yourself be happy. Grief is so different for everyone- our family knows that very well. Is there any pain in your life you're clinging to? Is it time to let go, and move on? Are you ready for healing?

Journal #2 June, 20, 1999

Well Jeremy, Amy and crew are back from Mexico, as you know. I’m anxious to hear how God used them and moved them- I already heard some of their funny stories- Did you have funny stories of Mexico when you went, Jer? (other than “My gringo is faster than yours” pony back rides!) Why am I so sad today? I’m so glad Amy and the others are home-


oh… I guess it’s because at every homecoming, I know you aren’t with us and you aren’t coming home… you are Home permanently. I guess it hits hard at unexpected times.

So, sweetie, I love you always, Love-Mom



Memories and grief can come in waves- some we see coming- some we dont. Sometimes the hardest days were after the holidays. Grief isn't predictable. Over the last 11 years, have there been things or places that have triggered memories of Jeremy for you? Again, a testimony to our lasting legacy;our attitudes, behaviors, words, and spirit can leave impressions, even on physical places that stand as forever-memory-triggers of kindness and love. Are you leaving your mark!?

Journal #2 Dec 22, 2000

Hey Jer! It's your sis! Guess what- I can drive... alone... legally! :) I wish you were here so I could torment you a little with my driving. I've always said that when I get my license I'll come up here more. I miss you very much. Sometimes I feel like you were only a dream, came to make laughter and fun and then disappear. God is encouraging me when I least expect it. By songs, quotes I find, and by the people around me. On this cold winter day it's sunny, not a could in the sky and the birds are singing...

It was a privilege being your sister and I promise you, I will let your legacy live on through me because I want to be like you. God, thank you that of all the people on earth, you let me be a friend with Jeremy. I understand why you took him, he was faithful.
Love Always, Amy (sister)

Journal #2- May 2000

I am but a wandering visitor and the Lord led me to you. My grief is internal and my vehicle of expression was found with this pen. My loss was 1995. 2 friends gone in one night and I shall never forget them. I am not from here. I am only passing through and what a better way to spend Memorial Day than to respect your place of rest and peace... I can feel the sadness at losing a life so young, only a beginning to something new. But through them and you I can let myself go and appreciate my life here on earth while the angels look upon me with grace and hope. Thank you for being here for me today on my lonely journey. I needed you. God speed- Constance (a stranger)

Journal #3 June 17, 2004

Hi. You don’t know us. This is Amanda, Ryan and Lindsey. We really like your box! We’re so sorry you died so young. I’m sure you were a great guy and hope we meet you in heaven. We live right next door to the cemetery and just wanted to say hi. We’re touched by all the people who love you!

This entry made us laugh. First of all, their curiosity about the oak box got the best of them- that's so like little kids. I can just see them, "Ryan, look what I found! Should we write something?"

But more than that, their sweet innocence about the topic touched us deeply. Their assurance of heaven and the opportunity to meet Jeremy face-to-face seemed so assured. Life seems to have a way of robbing us of the things we know to be true and it's too easy to find ourselves dissecting God's promises during hard times. I know I do (Jim). Oh to have an innocent, simple faith again like Amanda, Ryan & Lindsey.

Journal #1 - October 21, 1998

So sorry I took so long getting up the strength & courage to come up here to see you. It's just still unbelievable to me I can't just pick up the phone and call you. I just really need to start talking because I know you're still watching out for me. (I feel like a goober, I went to the wrong plot so I ended up talking to a complete stranger!)... I still can't trust anyone the way I could trust you. And there are still things only you know about me. I completely understand why God would not want to wait for you any longer! Always C. (a friend)

We read dozens of journal entries like this one. There is something very comforting about being "known" so completely by someone. And when that person accepts you just the way you are , we seem to find more courage for life & living. God certainly knows us and his grace seems to cover so much. But who on this earth knows you - really knows you?

Journal #1 - September 29, 1998

Jeremy,

At times like this I miss you so much. I miss your words. I know you are watching us, Jeremy. I feel you. I hear you say, "It's going to be fine, trust in God." I'm trusting as much as I can right now. Jeremy thank you for your loving heart. Even through your face is not here, I can still hear those comforting words from your heart. I miss you... C (a friend)

Sometimes when it's hard to see, we cling to the words we've heard and the beliefs we have, and the things that are lasting - straining to listen to sounds that encourage and reminds us of things that matter, things that last. But most of all, to know we're not alone. What sounds are you hearing today?

Explorations of life, loss & legacy

This blog is not really another chronicle of how a family survived heart-wrenching loss. Our family’s journey, although certainly unique for us, is not new to humankind. A sea of weather-worn hundred year-old headstones in our son’s small hilltop cemetery serve as a constant reminder of far too many lives cut painfully short.

But as we pushed through this horrible time in our lives, something very unexpectedly rose from the ashes of our grief as if to say Jeremy’s influence had not yet come to an end. In the quiet of his resting place, God chose his impact to be revealed in hundreds of “conversations” captured in small, wire-bound journals protected from the elements by a handmade oak box. Year after year, journal after journal, the conversations continued.

For the longest time I struggled putting a father's feelings into words, yet mercifully chapter after chapter of Jeremy’s legacy was already being handwritten by others. Visitors would stop by to pay their respects, read previous entries and join in the “conversation” with our son, just as if he’d never left us. Sometimes they were incredibly funny like when Corrine lamented to Jeremy about a rather long conversation she had at the wrong gravesite with a “total stranger”. And at other times could reflect the innocence of two small grade school children who lived next door, "It's too bad we didn't know you Jeremy. It seems like a lot of people love you!" (Present tense) As diverse as the conversations were, however, they all had one thing in common; they revealed how the ripples of influence of our lives continue to impact others long after we’re gone.

His journals become a unique chronicle of the journeys of hundreds of people and how one young life made a difference to so many. Expressions of loss, legacy and hope converged in that place to create a backdrop for each visitor’s personal exploration. As you share in these conversations, perhaps you will find yourself asking …

If a journal was placed alongside my headstone some day, what would those conversations with me look like?

Would friends and family remember warm and uplifting interactions with you or express regret for time that can’t be recaptured? Relationships that were taken for granted or recollections of your encouraging words and acts of kindness and compassion? You see, we never know when our own legacies will be written. Jeremy didn’t. He left that Sunday afternoon in 1998 for a swim with friends not knowing he would never return to his earthly home again. Please visit often and join in the conversation as we post other entries from The Journals.

Hi Jeremy,

“Yep, it does seem harder lately. I’m remembering last summer and trying to relive every moment of your last days here. My soul is tired, Jer. Yet even as I sit here and write this I can imagine you saying, ‘But Mom, it’s worth it! Hang in there. So I will my dear son, I will. In Jesus strength and help and in his love, I will.

Love Mom.”