Sunday, September 25, 2011


The intensity of this weekend has caught me off guard.

Some things are easy because we should have done them years ago, like cleaning out the piles of junk in Emmett's studio that he never used.  Where, incidentally, I found every single clipboard in the house that Emmett had at one point squirreled away someplace safe, and where we haven't been able to find them for years.

But other things, like cleaning out Emmett's closet, are not so easy because there is a note of finality, a reminder that he's not just on the road again.  As I sorted through Emmett's things (and I bet you'd have never guessed that he had more clothes and shoes than I did), I also sorted through memories and emotions.  I rearranged my clothes, but it felt like I was reorienting my life, a feeling I wasn't prepared for because I felt like I was turning towards emptiness (as in a completely unknown future, not as in a lack of Jesus).

I also spent some time listening to a song a friend wrote about Emmett (Check out his CD here: the last track is the one to which I'm referring, but the whole disk is great), and though it's a good song, well a very good song actually, it's also a hard song because, unintentionally, I think it captured Emmett's mood very well.  Unlike many sparkly songs about dying, it poignantly captures the tension caused by a long illness.

And finally, last night, as I was working in the kitchen on some Team Emmett things, I heard Quinn sobbing from his bed.  I don't think I've ever seen him cry so hard that for several long minutes he couldn't even tell me what he was crying about.  He finally choked out that he was sad about daddy.  He had gotten out some books written by another friend about love and eternity (check those out here), to look at in bed, and those books always remind him of his daddy.  He wanted me to read them to him over and over, which I could barely do.

This weekend has been full of Emmett, even down to the weather.  Fall will always make me think of Emmett and intensify his absence.


  1. Praying for you, sweet Wendy! And for, sweet Quinn!

  2. I hadn't seen this post until this morning, but you were on my mind this whole weekend. You both are always in my thoughts and prayers.

  3. Wendy, was listening to Ben's CD this weekend in the car and when Emmett's song came on, I found myself unexpectedly sobbing...over the pain of the world, over the loss of your best friend. Reminded how God sets things on our hearts for a reason, and grateful for the privilege to pray for you. Remember how clothed in prayers and love you & Quinn are.

  4. Just found this today. Love you sweet friend. Love your heart. Love your tenderness. Love the way you express your emotions through writing. And, I absolutely adore the way you love Quinn. You are a treasure to him and to all of us. Hoping your Monday was filled with sweet mercies.

  5. thanks for the Shive find. would never have known where to look for his music (been out of N'ville tooooo long!). so Emmett stashed all the clipboards, huh?