While I'm fully aware of how I did not accomplish my goal of updating everything by the end of the year like I wanted and said I'd do, I have to throw it out there kinda set myself up for failure.
Sometimes things you are ready to write about doesn't mean it's the right time to do so.
My last blog post I told about the excitement of discovering new life coming into our family and not long after this news I got the call I knew was going to come but never was sure when, where, or how it would was going to come.
Yesterday, February 9th, is what would have been my Uncle Rick and Aunt Karla's 30th wedding anniversary and I'm almost glad I didn't write this blog out right away like I planned and am sitting down to write it now at such an amazing milestone.
With our pending move, I was actually becoming very nervous and anxious about leaving my family behind.
Many might think I'm crazy, "You're moving to Europe, shut your face!"
I got that one a lot actually.
While others were more like, "Well, yeah duh! You are moving across the world!"
Especially since I just found out I was pregnant on top of everything else, but none of that was actually it at all.
I have been away from my family since I got married, so although this further distance was obviously a big change, the elephant in the room, for me, was who am I not going to see again when I'm gone for this length of time?
Kinda morbid I know, but you can't make big decisions like this and not think about it, trust me!
I've been told my family and I are almost a rare "breed" in that we are all so close and connected.
My brother and I are the only children on my dad's side and on my mom's side, there are only four of us kids, so to me, my cousins are more like siblings, aunts like second mothers.
Uncles were as close to second father figures to me as you can get.
We all each have had our own unique relationship and how we all handled each other, despite how crazy it was, it's honestly all I've known and wouldn't prefer it any other way.
It's hard to put into words sometimes, the unique relationships we all have, but the best way I've found to put it, especially now, is when one of us celebrated, we all celebrated.
When one of us cried, we all cried.
When Rick initially got sick, I'll be the first to admit that I didn't think it would become what it did. As time progressed and things weren't working as hoped I listened to the phone calls and read the blog updates, but somehow I still refused to think that things were becoming as dire as they were.
As our time in NC was coming quickly to a close, the failing health of my uncle was the one unknown I had in my mind that I didn't know what to do about. It still felt unsettled, unchecked, unvisited and I didn't know how to handle it and I didn't know how to go about it.
I finally took my mom's advice and wrote my uncle an email (I wish I had hand written it now in retrospect because it sounds so informal, ugh) telling him how I felt and just things I wanted him to know.
Thanking him for his children, his wisdom, his support of especially me and my own child, his grace, his support as one of my husband's #1 fans-hands down, his patience, and most of all his example, especially in his faith.
This is also when I told him I was pregnant again.
I wanted and needed him to know because that's the type of family we were, we told each other everything. I'm really glad I pretty much smashed any of the unwritten rules on breaking pregnancy news on this one, no regrets whatsoever.
Ten days after my email, Rick died at his home in Duncan, OK on August 16th, about a week before we were scheduled to leave NC and head to CO for our pre-move leave.
John and I had already made plans to hang out with some friends and our kids "one more time" the next day at a water park, so we kept our plans as is, since at the time there was literally nothing we could really do, hoping it'd be a good distraction.
After a day of being out in the ridiculous NC heat, that was the weekend I finally kinda lost it.
I was exhausted from getting ready to move, I was starving but couldn't stomach anything but ramen and ritz, I was totally hormonal-pregnancy or not just with everything that was happening and on our way home from the water park I had to have John pull over the car.
I jumped out onto the lawn of our apartment complex, holding onto a stop sign post, and just puked my guts out all over the side yard to our building.
I left John and B in the car, walked to our house went straight into our master bath and just sat on the floor, sunburnt and in my "already getting too tight" swimsuit, and bawled my eyes out literally gasping for air.
I don't remember what all was going through my mind while I sat in there, but I do remember that part of me was physically overcome with such sadness I felt almost claustrophobic, but yet another part of me was so relieved that the pain was done and gone, that I couldn't help but smile and sometimes laugh.
I sat for a good hour before I resurfaced with some decent composure.
After I had my "moment" John and I went into "get there" mode, meaning a lot of things had to change and a lot of things HAD to work just right in order for us to rearrange ourselves to move out even earlier than expected and be there for not only his funeral, but with my family.
Anyone with military life experience knows the possibility of things going exactly to plan is pretty much non existent. But I'm living breathing proof to tell you it IS possible, and I'm pretty sure that this circumstance is the only time it'll work out as it did.
The port in Charleston had room on an earlier shipment to get my car to Germany earlier.
Airline tickets/seats were rearrangeable to a different destination without much hassle.
Plans slowly fell into place, and before I could really grasp it, we were on the road with NC in the rearview mirror for good headed to Charleston to drop off my car at the port then hop on a plane to OK.
So funerals. We've all been there done that.
I, however, hadn't been there or done any of that in a lloonngg time....and not concerning someone I was this close too.
It wasn't even my own father and the roller coaster of emotions that day was exhausting.
However, his funeral was perfect.
My uncle and his family's presence in their community was so innately intertwined that the service had to be moved to a larger church in town to fit the several hundred people that were in attendance.
What was unique about where/how my uncle passed is that he was the recruiter for the local hospital in Duncan. Most of the doctors treating him were doctors he recruited there. So the outpouring response from the hospital was just amazing.
The church and friend community the Buchanan's have built up around themselves over the years was just mind boggling. Really there are just no words and I think that was almost as emotionally taxing as the funeral itself.
I agreed to take pictures of the service for my aunt.
One of the hardest but most honored tasks she's ever asked me to do.
My family keeps kodak in business when it comes to picture taking so I knew this was, oh so very important to all of us.
My favorite part of the service, among the many, was all the hilarious stories that were told (laughter has got to be the best medicine in these situations and I know he wouldn't have wanted it any other way) and also the testament of my uncle's faith that was shared over and over by every single person that stood at that podium.
My uncle's life served it's purpose in that, even in death, the sharing of Christ and the gospel was the primary goal and it was beyond all means met.
My cousins and my aunt are amazing people, you guys.
While Rick was battling cancer, Ashleigh was in/graduating college, getting her first job, making it out on her own. Aaron was in med school at OU and graduated three months prior to his dad's death with his DDS. Aaron's wife, Kimberlee, unwaveringly supporting and by his side every step of the way.
Karla in all seriousness was so strong even when beyond the feeling of weak in every way imaginable.
I wish there was a way I could write it out to portray what I've witnessed in this family.
I wish there was a way I could write it out to portray what I've witnessed in this family.
When the funeral was over, the church empty, and the music with picture slideshow of his life stopped, I remember just sitting there in a huge empty sanctuary wondering, what now?
We all went to Karla's house where over time people kept stopping by and staying so it became a huge friend and family get together with all of us sitting around talking, eating, laughing, crying...everything.
And it was fabulous and I think what we all needed.
The people and friends of Duncan, OK were so gracious to all of us out of towners.
Opening their homes (and pools!) to us as we took over Duncan for a weekend.
Since the funeral a lot has changed on my end and I'm going to address all that in a later post, sooner rather than later, promise.
But one thing that I'm so thankful remains the same is I still have my family.
We may be one less, which I'm still kind of grappling with since I'm not even there now to figure out what that really means, but the memories we have will literally last forever, no cliche or exaggeration.
