November 15, 1989/2009

My father, Bill Christensen, died on the first day of gun deer season a half mile from his house in Peck, Michigan, 100 miles north of Detroit. After Christmas and Easter, Nov. 15 is the next major holiday in that region. Some schools close for the day, people get off work for the day and there are those who don't just go. My brother and my Dad were hunting together and had walkie-talkies. My dad shot a large buck first thing in the morning and called my brother to tell him that he was going to wait for a while before he did anything else so that he would not interfere with anyone else's hunting chances. After that last communication, my brother didn't hear anything for a really long time so he went to check Dad. He was dead from a massive heart attack. It was very shocking, of course, because he was only 54.

We had to drive up to Michigan as quickly as we could. We drove through a tornado in Kentucky, just missing it by half an hour. We drove through a terrible thunderstorm; the wind was strong and stuff was blowing everywhere. When we finally arrived in Michigan, the weather there seemed to match our mood as well. The graveside service was very cold and wet, really miserable. But lots of people came to the funeral and told us that Dad was a wonderful man and that he made a big difference in their lives.

My mother Carol contracted breast cancer the following year. She had a mastectomy, went through chemotherapy surprisingly well and seemed to settle in to her radically different life. She was more active in her church; she traveled with her sister and friends. In 2006 the cancer came back and she went through everything again, bouncing back well and continuing her life as before. In the fall of 2008 she had back pain, leg pain and double vision. Again she went to all of her doctors and they sent her for test after test, but they couldn't find anything. Then, in the spring of 2009, my brother went with her to the doctor to find out what was going on and they finally figured out that the cancer had come back and that it probably had spread throughout her body. There was nothing that could be done except hospice care, and one of the hospice nurses said Mom had two or three months left.

She doubled the time they thought she had left and she lived it to the fullest way possible while using a walker, then being confined to a chair with electric lift. My aunt and niece, with help from my brother and sisters, did a wonderful job helping her. I went through 150,000 airline miles to visit her once a month.

Even toward the end, she was always positive. Lots and lots of people from her church visited her and brought her food over and over again. When I saw them they reported to me that they always came away very blessed after visiting Mom. Eventually the disease progressed and she became bedridden, but she continued to be a blessing. This was a lady who served her church and community well. She just kept on the best she could, accepting whatever came her way, still blessing everyone around her. When she made it past September, I predicted to Elizabeth that she would die on Nov. 15, 20 years to the day after my Dad passed away.

Thanks to Skype, I was able to talk with her very often. We would tell her that we loved her and she would tell us that she loved us. We told her that we were going to Belgium, and for a second she was shocked, but then realized it would be OK because she would be in heaven. I told her that the reason Christians suffer is so they can glorify God by testifying to how wonderful He is in the midst of their suffering and that she was finishing the race well. That made her happy.

As predicted, my sister called at 5 a.m. Nov. 15 with the news that Mom had gone to heaven. We were ready. We left soon after we finished the laundry and called our sons to keep an eye on the house. The weather was beautiful, too. It was a happy funeral because a saint had gone home. Mom was running now, not confined to her bed.

I have been blessed by wonderful parents. Their love for God and each other has molded me into who I am today, giving me a legacy to give to my children and grandchildren.

I love you Mom and Dad!