Grateful

There is no hour that passes that I do not think about those blue eyes and that delicious little face. I am grateful to God that I got be this boy's Dad for the time I did. What a gift! We continue to do pretty well because you all are asking God to show His love, mercy and grace to us. The cards, letters, emails, etc. continue to lift our spirits. We still get really sad frequently, but God is here for us and with us. (-:

Wild Child

On Sunday me and Jack and some friends (e.g., Gabe) attended the NHRA National Finals (that's National Hot Rod Association for those of you not familiar with the acronyms). The car in the picture is a "Top Alcohol/Funny Car" driven by Kebin Kinsley (pictured with Jack & Gabe) - the Wild Child race car. His team put Paul's name on the car last spring for competition, and as you can see, Paul's name remains on the car. We had a wonderful time at the race (despite the legendary John Force's crash which I am sure you all read about), and it means so much to see Paul memorialized this way. That boy loved race cars...and so do we.

Happy Birthday Whit!!!!!

To the 5-year-old go the spoils.

Happy (-er)

The gang at Disney Land

Sad

I've been reluctant to post today because of how down I am. Before I went to bed last night I read James Runde's blog (see link in post below); he died last night. I was able to ignore that information through the night, but today it has hit me like a freight train. I knew it would. Like I have said before, whenever cancer takes away another kid I know it means losing more of Paul. It's agonizing. I think too of how James' parents hurt today. How they will hurt tomorrow and the next day. Since they are apparently strong believers they have all they need to weather the storm. But, it will be just that: a storm. A huge one. We are still in it here, and it rages on. Be sure to pray for James' parents, Jim and Dawn. I hardly know them, but right now I know them better than most.

As for me, I went into the office briefly today to prepare for class tonight, but to be honest none of that really matters to me today. I came home and met Jack at school for lunch. I needed to see his face. I am looking forward to having Leigh and Whit home later today. We need to all be together. While at home alone today, I decided just to let it all out with a good wallowing, pitiful, time of mourning. I watched some Paul DVDs, looked at his stuff, handled his clothes and toys...with the hopes that I could recapture a bit of him. You can bet that me and the Lord had some interesting conversation during this time too. But, after all this...Paul is still not here. The Lord will have to extend an extra measure of coping today. I know He will. Please remember the Rundes today and don't let up your praying for us.

Tarantulas and Disney Land

Paul doing one of his favorite things at church (thanks Amber!)

After work last week Jack and I drove to a state park and camped for the weekend. We had a great time sitting around the campfire, playing with knives and hatchets, hiking and fishing. At dusk one night we were driving around the park, and we saw what we thought was a small mouse sitting in the middle of the road. We got out to look, and it turned out to be a tarantula! It was about 4 inches in diameter; I was really glad that we zipped up the tent after the park ranger told us that, "...they are all over the place out here and won't bother you if you won't bother them." Uh...Yeah.

It was a good weekend for some Jack-Dad time since Leigh took Whit to Disney Land for his birthday. They went with their buddies Miss Jen and her little girl Emma (Whit's best friend). As I write they are probably riding Space Mountain. It's hard to believe that Whit will turn 5 this week. We have a big party planned this weekend, and while I know it will be lots of fun..it will also be hard to do without our Paulie.

Say some prayers for our friends James Runde and Anna Jane. James is probably in his last few days, and Anna Jane has had some tough days lately. Lift them and their parents' names to the Lord this week as you continue to pray for us.

2 months

I was half way through my morning before I noticed the date - September 14. Then, I realized that it was two months ago today that Paul died. This is not to say that I had not already thought of him a hundred times this morning; I had. I think of him constantly except when there is some task that demands my complete attention (which is hard to get these days). So, here we are...two months out from the defining event in the Saxon home. You probably wonder how we are doing. The truth is that we are all still very sad. No one has "moved on," and to be honest...I don't think any of us want to. However, we smile and laugh almost as much as we used to. Paul's stuff is still all around the house. His NASCAR collection is where he left it. His hats, back pack and clothes still hang in their places. His drawings and art work is where we can see it. His bank is untouched. I don't think we leave these items undisturbed for some weird "not-letting-go" reason; it just isn't time yet to do anything with them. We speak often of Paul. We laugh when we remember his antics. We cry too. One thing I have appreciated about you all is that you aren't afraid to talk to us about Paul. Many times there is the typical "so, how are you doing?," but I love it most when the conversation turns to something you recall about Paul. You have a memory that I do not, and I love for you to share it. It's pure gold.This is true with photos too. All-in-all, the Lord is lifting our heads and giving us much daily grace and mercy in order to keep moving forward. I try to express my gratitude to God every day for allowing me to be Paul's Dad for the 6 years that He did. We are trusting Him to heal us and bless us with joy.

Michael Mancuso Jr., Feb. 5, 2000 - Sept. 9, 2007

Paul now has his buddy Michael Mancuso with him in heaven. Michael was one of Paul's playmates at Cook Childrens. Michael also had relapsed neuroblastoma. He died at home surrounded by his family Sunday night, Sept. 9. I rejoice knowing that this little guy, one of the toughest and coolest, no longer has to suffer. I know he has that big smile on his face now as he is surrounded by all the other saints. But, every time another kid we know dies from cancer it seems like we are robbed of a little more of our Paul too. When you pray for us today also pray for Micheal's family.

How to cope when God gives you more than you can bear (from the Apostle Paul)

For we do not want you to be unaware, brethren, of our affliction which came to us in Asia, that we were burdened excessively, beyond our strength, so that we despaired even of life; indeed, we had the sentence of death within ourselves in order that we should not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead; who delivered us from so great a peril of death and will deliver us, He on whom we have set our hope. And He will yet deliver us, you also joining in helping us through your prayers, that thanks may be given by many persons on our behalf for the favor bestowed up on us through the prayers of many.

2 Corinthians 1: 8-11

Dear Paul,
In a week or so it will be two months since I kissed your sweet face, heard your fun laugh, snuggled next to you in bed and felt your warmth. At some point in each day I ask myself if you are really gone. I know you are, but it seems like it is just too absurd to be true. But it is true, and I, Mom, Jack and Whit miss you so much.

It’s true that we cry a good bit. You never liked it when we cried did you? Even in your last days when I wept next you, you put your hand on my face and gently said, “don’t cry, Dad.” We cry because while we have joy in knowing that you are with Jesus, we have a big hole in the space you occupied around here. I know now that you have complete knowledge of what your life was about; even though it was too short by my standards, it wasn’t for God’s.

All of your stuff is still pretty much like you left it. Mom wasn’t pleased the other day when I tossed out an old, worn out pair of your underwear. And, I thought you might want to know that we've made a little “memory area” with all of your favorite stuff. We have your Baylor hat, all of your little #24 cars, your favorite stuffed animals, and some other favorite toys there so that we can always look upon them and recall how much fun you had with them. Your money collection is also being well tended to by Jack. Seriously.

Speaking of Jack, he misses you a lot too. He is doing well in fourth grade, but I think it makes him sad to realize that you are not in the building with him every day. Whit is still quoting some of your favorite lines from Nacho Libre; you would be proud. Remember last year when Whit had his yearly heart check up, and you went along to help him be a big boy? Well, it's been a year so he went again today, and boy did we need you there! His heart checked out just fine, but he did not like the heart echo part very much. We are thankful that his heart is in good shape.

We miss you at the dinner table too. I just told Mom the other day how much I miss having to answer the question you asked a 100 times per meal – “How much bites do I have to eat, Dad?” It bugged me then (a little), but I would love to hear it now. When we pray before each meal we always end by saying, “…and tell Paul we said hi.” I hope you are getting our messages up there in heaven.

I have read lots of good books lately on how to cope when you lose a child, but one in particular talked about the indescribable joy of heaven. It made me realize that given the choice of being here with us again, even healthy, you would probably stay put. I don’t know what you are experiencing in heaven, but if what I believe is half the truth then I guess I am OK with you staying there. We’ll be there soon too, and that is a day I truly look forward to.

Paul, losing you was the hardest thing Mom and I have ever had to face. You probably know this already, but there were other kids that died this summer after you: Nathan, Lillie, Carter and Caleb. I hope you played with them today. We hope that Elesha was there to meet you on July 14. It makes me smile to think about all you kids up there. Others will come soon too. I know your face will shine with a big smile as you welcome them home and walk with them to the feet of the Father.

Like I said, things are pretty much the way you left them. We are doing life without you as best we can, and the Lord has really granted us what we need on a daily basis. We still trust Him and need His grace and mercy to get through each day. All those people that prayed for you are now praying for us as we grieve your loss.

I don’t know if there is Internet in heaven so I am not sure if you’ll read this, but just in case…I wanted you to hear again what you heard a million times just a while ago: We love you, and now we can’t wait to see you again.

Love, Dad

Joy and hope

I'll get to do this again someday!

Paul's absence in our family has been at the forefront of all we do lately. These last few days have had moments of deep sadness for us. I guess that since we have settled into a new routine with school, work, etc., distractions have lost some of their power. We just miss him. There are no books to read, nothing that anyone can say, no experience that can be had or anything else that can be done to lessen our longing for him. So, we look at his photos, watch home movies, see signs of him all around the house, talk about what he did, what he said, what he would have done, and of course...we cry our eyes out. Grief. I suppose that is what we have here. All this is not to say that we don't have joy. Happiness? Probably not right now. But, joy...yes. I recently read Don Piper's 90 Minutes in Heaven where he describes what he experienced, i.e., going to heaven, when he was killed in a car wreck but was later brought back to life. If Paul is now experiencing what Piper recounts, and I believe Paul is, then I have no choice but to have joy. I have joy too because I know the Lord and because of that I will one day behold Paul with my own eyes and be with him again. How do people do it without that hope? Keep praying for us; we need our "daily bread." (-: