We will always remember Ellie for her love for others, her creativity, sensitivity, and delight in life! Ellie's light has spread far and wide... may it continue to shine in our hearts.

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Just call me the "USS Mommy."

Hi all. Thanks so much for the sweet comments! I haven't been posting because we are still not connected to the Internet over at the house. The reason is just that John's been busy. Either he's working or home getting all of the miscellaneous projects done. Hopefully, his next project will be the Internet. Since John's been working the past two days, Ethan and I are hanging out at the "big house". Ethan's been enjoying other people to talk to and play with and I've been sewing and enjoying the TV. Ethan has also been sick this week, but is finally getting over it, I think. Other than a nasty cough, he's feeling better today.

There's not much else to report. We are still loving every minute in our home. The other day, I was making supper and Ethan walked up to me holding a tiny picture that I had put in the living room. It was a picture of Ellie's hand, making the sign for "I love you." We talked about how it was like Ellie telling us that she loved us. I asked Ethan if he liked it, and he nodded and said "I'm taking it to my room. I want it." So off he went. I'll have to make another one, because I want it too! :-)

There is something so wonderful about our new place. Even though Ellie never lived there, I feel so close to her there. She would have loved it. I can sometimes picture her dancing through the house, exclaiming over every detail. I can hear her saying "Ohhhhh, I just feel so normal again." That was Ellie's greatest wish before she died - to feel normal. That's how our home makes me feel - normal, and peaceful. I was lying in bed the other night thinking about the strange sensations that I get sometimes. I mostly feel peaceful and joyful, but sometimes a memory of Ellie will come on when I least expect it. And close on the heels of that memory, comes the realization that she is gone from us forever and I feel like a metal submarine that has been hit with a hammer from the inside. I swear that I can sometimes actually hear the "clang, clang, clang" of metal against metal and feel the reverberations blasting through my body. It must be because I don't feel sad all the time, that when the jolt comes, it takes me by surprise.

You'll have to pardon the submarine reference. My dad was in the Navy and served aboard the USS Barb. I just looked it up in Wikipedia and found a story that Dad frequently told. If you're interested, it is under: USS Barb (SSN-596). It was July, 1972 - two months before I was born. The USS Barb was sent to rescue some downed fighter pilots, just after a typhoon. Dad's telling of it was much more interesting than Wikipedia's. The things that they had to go through to rescue those pilots was unbelievable. The sub was not equipped with a crane to pull people out of the water, and the seas were so choppy that they couldn't get close enough to the men in the water to simply shoot a line and pull them out without crushing them. Dad said that the ship was rocking so hard from side to side, that it would have been impossible to simply pull them aboard. So they lashed a man to the mast to shoot the line to the pilots in the water. The man was HUGE - very tall and about 300 pounds (if my memory of the story is correct). Once the man in the water was secured to the line, they waited until the ship rocked all the way toward him. Then all the men below deck pulled out the slack in the line. As the boat rocked the other direction, the man in the water popped up and flew toward the mast of sub. The man who was tied to the mast, caught the pilot in mid air and lowered him below deck. They did that with each of the men they rescued. I believe that one of the men who was rescued woke up that morning in his life raft to see what looked like a big black cross coming towards him, and thought he had died in the night. So he jumped out of his raft and tried to swim away. They had to send a diver after him. I also believe that at least one of the rescued men said that being rescued that way was much more terrifying than being stranded at sea.

Well... I guess I did have more to say than I thought. That always seem to happen. I will be back when I'm able. Hopefully sooner rather than later. :-)


At 5:12 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...


What an amazing story.... You have been blessed with such a gift for words and really should consider writing. You have this fantastic ability to draw us into whatever world you are writing about. I am so glad you are able to feel normal! Praise the Lord for upholding your family through this and allowing all of us to pray for you.

We love you all!
The Haviland's

At 6:48 PM, Blogger LindaSueBuhl said...

Sarah - you MUST write a book - or at the very least a series of articles - your life has been so much more interesting than the average bear. Glad the new house is such a perfect "fit" - I still occasionally (not often) feel that shock about my loved ones who are dead. Soon followed by a thought of how wonderful it will be to see them in eternity. I think that is because I am old.

At 8:32 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

So glad you are feeling normal again! I still check in on you and your family and pray for you! Sounds like things are going well. Thanks for sharing your stories. Keep looking up!

At 9:08 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thanks for sharing that story about David. I hadn't heard that one before and never thought of researching any of those times on the net. It's amazing, the information, that's available at our fingertips. I'm glad that you are all nestling happily into your new home. You deserve the joy and it gives me much joy to hear that you are experiencing it. I wish you were all going to be in Dallas this weekend with Chad. We'll be thinking of you.
Much Love, Garcias in Paradise

At 8:04 PM, Blogger Sharing His Plan said...

I just wanted to let you know I have been reading since the first email was posted to our church email list from Chad about Ellie some time ago. I have not have a chance to post a comment. Tonight, I am making the time to let you know, I have laughed and cried with you and prayed very much for you all. I think your writing is incredible and the artwork you did was awesome and had to be therapeutic (sp?). Your story/witness is incredible and real. Thanks for being real, being God's daughter, and helping me strive to be a better mommy.
Love and blessings,
Jackie Davis
(missionary in Guatemala)

At 12:38 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

How are you doing these days? Been thinking about you lots. Praying all is going smoothly.


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