Be kind...

Many of you did not know my wife (I realize, of course, many of you do not know me either.)  Below is the text from the memorial I read at her and Miranda's service this morning.  I fear that my words do not do her justice, that the context of my pain can not be adequately expressed within the boundaries of these words.  Despite my best attempts, this is a pale reflection of the woman she was.

The life of Sara Jean Cole, as expressed by Chad Cole on February 12, 2011:

Sara Jean was a Princess, born on a cold, snowy January day in 1976.  She did not enter this world quickly; instead, she gave us a preview of her life.  Sara arrived after 44 hours of labor, letting us know that doing things right would always be more important than doing them quickly.  Sara proved that time and patience produced spectacular results.

Sara was constructive child, in the literal sense of the word.  Sara’s early life was lived out while her parents built their home, in Clarksville, Michigan.  The course of Sara’s life was shaped by this early hands-on experience.  Sara developed a life long passion for projects, for working with her hands, and lived with the philosophy that you don’t need to buy something if you can make it yourself.  That old crusty couch…no problem.  Just strip it down to the frame and rebuild it.  That ancient chair, it just needs a new cover.  We need a bookcase…where’s the saw and that old piece of plywood. 

Sara was well traveled.  After spending her early childhood in Clarksville, Sara’s family began moving around the country, often traveling in a small Toyota station wagon, which was packed to the point of bursting with kids, pets, clothes, and all of life’s other necessities.  While Sara was a shy child, no matter where she went, she made a few steadfast friends and lived her life to the fullest.

As many were able to see at her visitation, Sara was a gifted artist.  Sara could find beauty in just about anything.  She also loved to teach others, sharing her knowledge and experience, ultimately making the world a more beautiful place one relationship at a time.

Sara was all I’ve just described and more.  She was a loving daughter.  She was a wonderful sister.  She was a gardener.  She was a master seamstress.  She was a treasure collector who saw value in things most of would cast of without a second glance.  She had a great sense of humor, and loved to laugh.  She had a compassionate heart and cried often at the sadness she saw around her.  She was everyone’s friend.  She was my best friend, a devoted companion, who filled my life with love and joy, and she was the mother of my beautiful daughter, Miranda Evangelene.

In Miranda’s short life, she never said a word.  She never cooed, or gaa-gaaed.  She never crawled or took a step.  And yet, because of Miranda, a chord has been struck in the heavenly realms and its reverberations will be felt for eternity.  Thousands have joined together in prayer, setting aside spiritual and philosophical differences to lift up one small girl, her mother, her father, and their families.

Because of this I want to tell you who Sara really was.  She described herself the best back in 1983, at the age of 7, when she wrote a short, but poignant letter to Jesus.  “Lord, I pray that you will make my heart loving and kind…”

God answered that prayer, tenfold.  Love dripped from Sara’s pores.  Kindness was at the heart of everything she did.  As an adult, an unkind word from Sara was such a rarity that it was shocking.   And it was usually followed by something positive just to make up for it.  Sara’s gift was living her life with the spiritual purity of a child.  She didn’t make the mistake of trying to make her Christianity into something that was too complex.  For Sara the rules, set by her parents at a young age were simple:  Be kind.  Don’t do things to other people you don’t want to have done to you.  That is who Sara really was.  Sara was love.  She lived love.  If you want to do something to remember my wife, the greatest memorial would be to live life like she did.  Be kind to one another, and don’t do things to other people that you wouldn’t want to have done to you.

As I mentioned earlier, Sara was a collector of treasures.  I was cleaning her purse on Monday when I found a small slip of paper, folded and tucked away into a safe corner.   On it were the lyrics to the hymn All Creatures of our God and King.  It touched my heart, and I wept, because Sara spent her entire life loving all of God’s creatures… especially me.

The beginning of the end of the beginning...

Time is rapidly winding down in terms of the business end of saying goodbye.  Tomorrow will be spent doing visitation and services follow on Saturday.

A memorial fund has been established, even though we have not decided how it will be used.

Anyone who would like to donate is welcome to:

Sara Cole Memorial Fund

c/o Flagstar Bank

2000 Horton Road

Jackson, MI 49203

We will decide, at a later date and as a family, how to use the memorial.  Sara had many things she loved and was passionate about, the decision(s) will not be easy.

I truly appreciate the thousands of readers who have shared in this journey with me.

Writing here has been therapeutic and uplifting.  Your comments have lifted me on angel's wings.

As Saturday passes, things will get much more quiet in my life.  The new "normal" will begin to transition in, slowly and painfully.  As such, you, gentle reader, may not find as much activity on this blog as has taken place over the past week.

Before I slip into a habit of posting less frequently, I want to address something that has been on my heart and mind this entire week.

I have had many people say to me, write to me, say about me, and write about me about what a great "man of God" I am.  I'm not sure I can live up to the bar that has been set.

What you've seen in me over the past few days has little to do with being a strong and vibrant Man of Faith.   I am a man who feels like all this world held for him has been stripped away, leaving him standing cold and naked, with two choices:  cling to the Rock or let go.  I have no choice.  I must cling to the Rock.  All else is misery, selfish humanity, and destructive despair.

Your prayers have been appreciated.  They have helped my fingers hold fast.  I will be clinging here for some time to come, and want you to know how much your support has meant and how long it will last.

Thank you, friends,

Chad

Too tired to write a title....

So much to say...and I'm not sure I can.  My poor brain has started to hit it's limit in terms of sleep depravation.

First, to the Allegiance Health staff members I met today, and especially those I didn't.  I will never be able to thank you enough for what you did for me, my wife and my Miranda.  I learned today that grief radiates out from tragedy like a tsunami.  It knows no boundaries.  It respects no one.  It is completely unpredictable.  I feel for you and with you...as I know you are feeling for me, and with me.  I look forward to seeing you all again in the near future.

The other parts of today felt so rushed.  I'm led to believe there will never be a good way to plan a funeral or memorial service.  No matter how hard those who provide the service try, it will always feel like important decisions need to be made too quickly.  You could give me and my family 6 months to decide on some of these things and we would still feel rushed...no one wants to say goodbye.  Even though we know they are not with us anymore, no one wants to say goodbye.

I find that the waves of grief are changing.  What was erratic over the past couple of days, with strong surges and times of great relief, has turned to a steady flow. It's now a steady stream with only the occasional burst.  God's grace and mercy continue to hold back the storm, but the flood waters are still rising.

There's so much more I'd like to say...but it will have to wait.

I'm home...

I can not begin to express my gratitude for, nor my amazement at, what has happened over the past three days.  Never in my life have I felt so surrounded with love.  This has been the worst three days of my life, and yet, at the same time, it has been three glorious days, full of shekinah glory.

As I prepared to hold my darling daughter to my chest this evening, I was terrified that I would break...literally break...into pieces.  My fears were unjustified.  The hand of God so reached down and touched me, that I was able to sing my sweet angel into heaven.  That peace stayed with my while I bathed her.  It covered me like a deep blanket of snow while I dressed her for the first time.  It kept a smile on my face while we took pictures and I was able to introduce her to her extended families without all those wires and tubes sticking out of her.  You are all responsible for that peace.

God's miracle to me was giving me strength beyond my own.  Endurance that I could never have mustered.  Helping me carry my daughter proudly down long, silent corridors as we approached the gathered family and friends who were singing upon our arrival:

All creatures of our God and King
Lift up your voice and with us sing,
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Thou burning sun with golden beam,
Thou silver moon with softer gleam!

O praise Him! O praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Thou rushing wind that art so strong
Ye clouds that sail in Heaven along,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
Thou rising moon, in praise rejoice,
Ye lights of evening, find a voice!

Thou flowing water, pure and clear,
Make music for thy Lord to hear,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
Thou fire so masterful and bright,
That givest man both warmth and light.

Dear mother earth, who day by day
Unfoldest blessings on our way,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
The flowers and fruits that in thee grow,
Let them His glory also show.

And all ye men of tender heart,
Forgiving others, take your part,
O sing ye! Alleluia!
Ye who long pain and sorrow bear,
Praise God and on Him cast your care!

And thou most kind and gentle Death,
Waiting to hush our latest breath,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
Thou leadest home the child of God,
And Christ our Lord the way hath trod.

I am blessed, truly blessed this early morning.

I do realize that dark clouds are on the horizon.  The hurting will not go away, or end, just because today is done.  It's 3:45AM, and Stevie, our 10 year old cat, is wandering around the house crying for his "mommy."  All he knows is that he hasn't seen her in 3 days and misses her.  His simple desire to sit on her lap and enjoy a good scratch brings tears to my eyes.  No matter how hard I try, I know that I can't provide for him what he'd grown to love and desire from Sara.  He sits on the step to the family room, watching me type, and I can the questions in his eyes, "Where is she?  When will she be home?"  He occasionally glances at the back door, as if he expects her to walk in any moment.

This house already feels like a shell, an empty reflection of what it once was.  I've had this same feeling every time I looked at myself in a mirror over the past 3 days.  I just didn't recognize the man who was looking back.  He seemed familiar, but not quite the same as what it felt like he should look like.

The only thing that keeps the dark waters of despair and depression from flooding over me at this time is the levy of Christ's love.  A levy woven from the fabric of your prayers.  While God may not have given me my heart's desire, He has stopped up the floodwaters. He has thrown me a life jackets that keeps me from drowning in the deep pits and pools that Satan would love to pull me down into.

Thank you, one thousand times, one million times, thank you!

O praise Him! O praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Sincerely,
Chad Cole

Welcome to miracle Tuesday...

Dear Miranda,

It's me, daddy. I'm not even sure where to begin.

Today is a big day! One way, or another, thousands are praying that God will be glorified through your life. You've had a bigger impact on this world in your 3 short days than some of us have over the course of decades.

Daddy needs to be honest with you, I'm selfish. I don't want to think that your going to be with mommy and Jesus is an option. I want you right here. I don't want to ask God for a miracle, I want to demand one. I want Him to feel like he owes me this.

Your doctors here on Earth have been very kind and compassionate. They've made it clear that there's little more they can do. I appreciate all of their hard work, dedication, and expertise. I've made it clear to them that I'm working with a Physician who has done things they'll never dream of. A Physician who works 24/7. A Physician who will make you whole again, either here or in Heaven. This is where that selfishness comes into play, I want it to be here. I need it to be here.

It's still early in the day. The doctors and nurses are changing shifts, so it's a little chaotic around here right now. I find peace in the tranquil little space by your bed.

You will be surrounded today. Surrounded by family and friends. Surrounded by angels and prayer. Surrounded by God's love and care. But let's be clear, I want to surround you and keep you for myself.

I love you, more than I could have imagined,
Daddy

She who must be admired....

The nursery here at the hospital is quiet right now. Shift change just ended a few minutes ago. I sit here beside "she who must be admired" and wait for our miracle.

The walk to the Holden NICU felt strange this morning. I realized that it's a path thousands of other parents have walked before me, and thousands more will walk after. It's an emotional path to walk, each step bringing you closer to your little loved one. It's hard not to get emotional on a walk like that...but I'm praying that I get to travel that path for many days to come.

Yesterday was a long, hard day. But it was a wonderful day, as well. The neurologists did not have a good report. Medically speaking, Miranda still does not have much, if any brain activity. They are going to do a full EEG today. Miranda spent yesterday surrounded by loving family, some of whom even got a chance to hold her, including me. I can not express in words how much it meant for me to be able to hold my precious little girl.

I have been "accused" of showing extreme courage and fortitude over the past couple of days. Don't be fooled folks, any strength you see is God. I'm so broken on the inside. Waves of despair, pain, and frustration do occasionally break over the levee, but I know that Jesus is there holding the flood back.

Today will be another long day, but I know that Miranda and I will be surrounded by family and love, both figuratively and literally. Praise God from whom all blessings flow. Praise him all creatures here below. Praise him above, ye heavenly hosts. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.

My heart is broken...

I lost my best friend of over 15 years yesterday.  She was taken from this Earth far too early.  Knowing that she is resting is Jesus loving care doesn't begin to address the emptiness and hurt that I feel today.

MLive News Report about our accident

Article about our daughter

Brown Floral reaction

Our daughter, Miranda Evangelene Cole, was "delivered" at 2:17PM, about 45 minutes after the crash.  She did not have a heart beat.  She was not breathing.  The doctors were able to start her heart and get her on ventalation.  She was then rushed to Mott's Children's Hospital in Ann Arbor, MI.

I fear that our time with Miranda may be short.  I know that hundreds, if not thousands of people are praying for her, and for a miracle, today.  It will take a miracle...

Even with the positives that the doctors keep reporting, the one thing that everything hinges on is brain activity, which Miranda is showing little to none of as we near the 24 hour mark.  The neurologists haven't been in yet, but the pediatric doctors are worried that the neurologists finding won't be any different than their own.

If Miranda doesn't show any improvement by 7:30PM Tuesday evening, it's likely that we'll have to say goodbye to her, too.

I truly appreciate the love that's been expressed to my and Sara's family during this trajedy.  We have felt the touch of angels and yet still find ourselves struggling with the reality of what has happened and what may be yet to come.

My heart is broken, please pray for Miranda.  Please pray for a miracle.  She's a beautiful little girl, and she's fighting, but she needs more help than what the doctors can give her.

Sincerely,
Chad Cole

Kick a meteorologist for me...

Well, here we are...officially in the last month...and there's a huge snow storm on the way.  Let's all cross our fingers and say a prayer and encourage the Lil' Shrimp to wait this one out. I'm of the opinion that there are already enough stories out there about women who went into labor early during the "big storm of whatever year it happened to be." :)

With a little more than 3 weeks to go, I find my mind drifting to the list of things we really should be doing to prepare for the baby's arrival. Hospital bags packed...not yet.  Car seat in place...not yet.  Crib all set up...not yet.

I know it will all get done, so I'm not too worried about it...yet.

We toured the labor and delivery floor at the hospital today.  So, now we know where to go when it's time.  During our tour, I made a joke about the potential for lots of babies being born over the next couple of days, due to the storm rolling in...Linda, our guide, didn't find seem to find much humor in it...not sure why.

With a little more than 4 and a half weeks to go...

OK, which one of you jokers forgot to tell me about how hard it is to pick out a name for your child? :)

We've narrowed our list for both genders down to about 75 name combinations each...

You want something unique, but not dumb.

You want something original, but not "invented."

You want it to sound good when you say it out loud, especially when you have to yell it. :)

You want it to sound important, just in case your little one becomes the President some day.

You don't want the initials to spell out any dirty words.

You don't want to choose something that the other kids will turn into a tease.

You don't want to pick something that will make your teenage child hate you (any more than they already will.)

Our goal is to get it down to 10 options for each sex by the time the big day arrives.  The list get's nicely cut in half once the baby is born.  Hopefully choosing from the remaining 10 will be easy.

"Welcome to the world ?????"

And the winner is...

Well, hello there 2011!  Where did you come from? 2010, we barely knew ye!

What was my favorite memory of 2010?  That easily happened on June 19.  That's the day we found out about our Lil' Shrimp. I realize that everyone who has ever had a baby would probably say the same thing, but I'll always feel like it was extra special for us.

Like so many other couples who have struggled with having children, June 19 started off as a day of defeat.  We'd been trying to have a baby for almost a year and a half.  June 19 was seven days past the normal cut-off for finding out if we were going to get one line or two on that antagonistic little stick.  June 19 was just going to be the confirmation that it hadn't worked.  June 19 was supposed to be the validation for the phone call to the doctor's office on Monday.

Sara could have taken the test any time during that day.  Why put off the inevitable?  We both knew she'd have to do it, no matter what.  But, it's human nature to put off things we find unpleasant though, isn't it?  No one wants to rush into bad news, do they?

To be honest, I don't remember much else about that day.  I just know it was evening.  She had "to go" so she "went."  I wasn't expecting much.  It was the first time I'd had the opportunity to see the results as they appeared and turned it down.  After all, what difference would it have made?  This wasn't really a "test," it was just a compulsory act that the doctors told us had to be done before calling in the bad news on Monday.

When Sara started shouting my name I figured something must be wrong, horribly wrong.  We'd been married almost 14 years at that point, the only time she shouted like that was when she needed help.  As I raced through the house I was thinking, "Weren't things bad enough already? What else could possibly go wrong now?"  I was not expecting excitement.  I was anticipating anxiety. I was not suspecting...surprise!

Two lines...two beautiful...perfect...clearly readable pink lines...that's my best memory of 2010.  You've got big shoes to fill 2011...big shoes...