Friday, December 13th, 2007 dawned and the sun was bright. We had slept well, despite the heaviness in our hearts. We knew that today was the day that was bringing everything to culmination. We wanted to be there for the doctor's consultation in the morning so we got up and had breakfast and headed to Truly's room.
I kept wondering how in the world I could ever tell the doctors what we had decided. It choked me up just to think of it. It really was a heavy burden on my heart, but I knew when the time came, the Lord would give me strength. As the doctors walked in, I swallowed hard and got ready to speak. At that moment my wonderful, strong, usually quiet husband stood up, addressed the doctor, and said "From what we understand, the surgery is only exploratory and Truly would most likely not survive it. We would just rather spend her last moments with her." So it was decided that we would unhook her from the respirator that afternoon. Those words, and the strength it took to say them, made my husband my hero for life and increased my respect for him ten fold.
So, we called my parents. They were 4 hours away and thought they could be there by 3 p.m. We planned to meet back at Truly's room after some lunch. A family from our church stopped by to visit. We were happy to see them and receive the encouragement we needed from them. Mutual tears flowed as we told them about what was going on that day. I think they felt bad that they came to visit that day, but we were encouraged by their thoughtfulness.
I was very nervous about that afternoon. I had never seen anyone die before. I hoped that Truly would have no pain or show any sign of discomfort. I wondered how long she would stay alive. There were so many questions that would soon be answered.
After lunch, we went back up to Truly's room. The doctors came in and started to unhook the machines from her. They were very gentle with her. They then placed her in my arms for the very first time.
All of her two and half pounds seemed like nothing as I gazed at her. I was finally able to hug her, kiss her, smell that "new baby" scent.
There was not a dry eye in the room. Stephen's mom and dad were there, as well one of his brothers and my parents. The nurses and doctors gave us our privacy and left the room. This was a very private time for us together as a family. Some unique things happened in that room, but they are personal memories. If you were standing outside the door that day, you would have heard much crying, yet also praying, normal conversation and yes, even some laughter. We did not have to sorrow. We knew we were seeing her off to the heavenly shore. Our hearts were sorrowful to be parted from her, but we rejoiced that she was going to be with the One we loved. It took about an hour. Each member of the family present in the room got to hold her during that time. We didn't know the exact moment when it took place but, she passed quietly into the arms of Jesus. Her little eyes that had never opened here on earth were now gazing upon our Saviour. To think that Heaven was the first thing she ever saw really moves me.
"But just think of stepping on shore, and finding it heaven.
Of touching a hand and finding it God's
Of breathing new air and finding it celestial
Of waking up in glory, and finding it home."
Her little feet that never walked were now running and leaping on streets of gold. Her little hands were no longer deformed and were serving her Lord. Her voice that never spoke on this earth was now singing praises to the Lamb. What a glorious reunion that must have been. It often brings me comfort to think of the people that greeted her there. Perhaps her great grandmas and grandpas met her there at the gate, or her uncle, or some of the saints from our church.
As we left her room that day, we were emotionally exhausted. I will never forget as long as I live seeing one of her regular doctors also wiping tears from her eyes. She had come to love Truly as well and could feel our pain.
We returned to her room later that night to discuss plans with the mortician. The nurses had cleaned Truly and put a delicately crocheted gown on her. She looked so beautiful. As we left the room, I glanced back and noticed the spot where there was usually a placard with her name on it. They had replaced it with a picture of a butterfly. What an appropriate picture of the transformation that had taken place. She had passed from death to life, from imperfection to perfect beauty and had taken her flight up to heaven.
We arrived home the next day. Again friends had come in and not only cleaned up the house, but dug around in our storage area, found and set up our Christmas tree and decorations. We met with the funeral director and planned her funeral for the next week. Stephen and I are both from rather large families. All of our siblings had made plans months before this to be available for the Christmas holiday at this time of the year. It wasn't just fate that allowed this to happen. Our loving Heavenly Father knew that it would be important for all of our family members to be there. A sister from Washington D.C., a sister and family who were missionaries to Mexico, siblings from Illinois and North Carolina were all able to be present there with us.
The morning of her funeral, we met as a family for a private viewing in one of the Sunday school rooms of the church. The little children ran in and right up to Truly's casket, almost knocking her right out of it. We had told them we were going to see Truly and they didn't quite understand. They turned around to see all of us crying and started crying themselves. The hardest part of all of this that we went through was having young children have to go through the grieving process. Their little minds have trouble comprehending the concept of heaven and the soul. They had so many questions that we couldn't answer. They often dealt with the problem in their own way. I remember seeing Sidney (then 6) and Charity (then 3) sitting down with their arms around each other. Charity was crying and I asked what was wrong. Sidney answered "We were playing that we had a baby die". Oh, how that smote me to the heart, but I came to realize that playtime helps children prepare for real life. They had to play out the scenario to better understand it.
The funeral service was beautiful. I think most of our church family was able to be there as well. We had asked a dear friend of ours to be the pallbearer. Her casket was so tiny, we only needed one. Our friends sang "Safe in the Arms of Jesus" and "Finally Home". Both of our dads preached the service. It was beautiful. The graveside was here in our hometown. We stood in the snow and place her body in the ground. Our kids placed flowers there.
To understand the next part of the story, I'll have to give a little background. Stephen runs his own business which includes lawn care and snow removal. His biggest contract is for a factory near us. Each year, this factory, instead of throwing a Christmas party, chooses a Christmas family and donates money for that family. To put it bluntly, we came home from the funeral, one of the hardest days for the kids especially, and saw this:
They had chosen us as their Christmas family. Even though Christmas was over a week away, we let the kids open the gifts: clothes and more toys than they could even imagine. There was even grocery money and gift certificates. We had been more than blessed. And what perfect timing to have delivered this surprise.
There is so much more that I could tell you about. We were inundated with sympathy cards and letters, many from strangers that we didn't even know who told us of their prayers for us. God provided a way for us to get a beautiful headstone at a fraction of the usual cost. So many things that He did to prove over and over His goodness to us.
We originally chose the name "Truly Hope" because we knew that there is always hope with the Lord. We were encouraged and given new hope when she was born and it appeared that the problems first expected were not as severe. Yet, even in death, there is hope. We know that we will see her again someday when we take our own flight to heaven. There is true hope only in Christ.
We have not written this story to boast or brag. We don't know why the Lord chose us to go through this trial. We only want people to know how good our God is. So many little details that He orchestrated to happen that enriched our lives and gave us confidence in our relationship with Him. Our own faith is so frail. There were times that the waves seemed like they would overwhelm us and the wind would capsize our tiny ship. The lightning and the thunder often caused us to cower in fear. Yet, the Anchor of our soul was sure and steadfast. He was always there when we cried out for help. We know without a doubt that our God is good, and He sent the storm to make us strong.
"....I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine. When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee. For I am the LORD thy God, the Holy One of Israel........." Isaiah 43:1-3
" Truly God is good...." Psalm 73:1
To the glory of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ:
Stephen and Jennifer Deatrick