Dana's Valley Part 18

He just nodded.

I didn't say any more, and he just sat and watched me. Finally he s.h.i.+fted slightly, and the look in his eyes intensified. "How you doin'?"

I knew by the tone of his voice and the look on his face that it was much more than social chitchat. I took a deep breath at the same time I felt the tears pus.h.i.+ng behind my eyes. I did manage to say, "Okay."

He nodded. "Good."

We were silent for several minutes again. I guess we were both too emotional to speak. "And you?" I asked at last.

He nodded. But it wasn't an indication that he was also okay. It was just an acknowledgment that he'd heard my question. "I've been better."

My hands slowed in their activity. I stole a peek at Brett. He looked as if he'd "been better."

"Anything I can do?"DANA S Valley * 287He shook his head. "I don't suppose. Guess I'm the only one who can do it. But I think it's too late."

His tone was so full of anguish that I stopped spreading the b.u.t.ter altogether. "What . . . what do you 9) >."She's gone now," he said, his lip trembling. "I wasn't much of a big brother. I wasn't there for her like I shoulda been."

"You were," I quickly defended him. "You came-"

"That's just it. I came-now an' then. I came. I should have been here, Erin."

"I was here-at least most of the time-and I couldn't do anything for her."

"You did. Maybe more than you'll ever know. She told me so herself. She said she didn't know what she'd ever have done without you over the last tough years. She said you were the only part of a sane world she could still hold on to. She said that, through you, she at least got to live some of the experiences of being a teenager. All the things she missed."

"She said that?"

He nodded.

Now it was my turn to feel regret. "But she didn't, Brett," I confessed. "I really didn't share a lot with her. I missed those years myself. Almost all of my teen years. They're gone. I never got to do most of the . . . the normal things. I missed ... so much. Her cancer did that. I hated her illness. I was mean about it. I didn't spend nearly enough time with her. I mean ... I know cancer took her life . . . but it took so much from all of us. I hated it ... the constant worry. Mom and Dad always gone. Trying to take care of Corey. Missing all the fun. I hated it." I took a deep breath. "I even thought I ... I288.hated G.o.d. Honest. I was so angry. I'm very ashamed."

"You were angry at G.o.d?" He sounded surprised.

"And I was worried about you too," I confessed further. "I was so afraid you'd get into really deep trouble and something bad would happen to you. And I couldn't even pray anymore. Only Corey ... he kept praying . . . for all of us."

"I'm. sorry, Erin. I really let you down." Brett sounded so sad.

"It wasn't your fault," I quickly a.s.sured him.

"It was. I mean ... I didn't intend to get in with those guys. It was just ... I was so ... so mixed up and they . . . they seemed cool. Before 1 knew it I was in deeper than I intended to be. I didn't know how to get back out. I wanted to come home . . . truly I did. But every time I came, things were just so ... so different. It didn't seem like home anymore. I didn't know how to fit."

"None of us knew how to fit. It wasn't like home anymore. Not for any of us."

He nodded. I think he was beginning to understand.

"You know what," I continued after a few minutes of silence. "I think it can be home again. Oh, not like it used to be ... but home. We owe that to Corey, Brett. The poor little guy. Do you realize he's spent almost half of his life living this nightmare? Maybe . . . maybe we can still turn that around. He had faith when the rest of us copped out. He's . . . he's a pretty neat little brother"

Brett looked up at me and nodded. I knew he was willing to try.& & &.

DANA'S V A L I E T * 289.The day was cold and windy when we left for the church to say our good-bye to Dana. The service was to be one of celebration. A celebration of Dana's life and also a celebration that she was now safely at home with her heavenly Father. But at the moment it was hard for me to think of it that way.

We had all shared in the plans for the service. Even Brett had helped. Her favorite songs would be sung by the congregation. The youth pastor would read her favorite Scriptures. Several of the young people would give a tribute-if they could control their tears. Corey had written his own little tribute that he had given to the pastor, and Mom and Dad had agreed that it could be read, though they didn't yet know what Corey had said.

Both sets of grandparents were able to join us, even the ones from Bolivia.

Dana wore her favorite hat-the one with the animals all traveling around it. She hadn't bothered much with hats lately, so it was almost startling to see her in one now.

She lay as if asleep against the frilly white pillow. I couldn't get over how peaceful she looked. There was no more pain-crease pinching in her face. She looked perfectly relaxed. Almost happy. And beautiful. In her hand she held a sprig from Corey's spruce tree, a red Christmas ribbon brightening up the green.

The service went pretty much according to plan. I was proud of the members of the youth group. In spite of their deep emotions, they did a great job of sharing what Dana had meant to them. How her faith grew as she traveled through her dark valley of cancer. Graham said it best. "I prayed for her often. And each time I did, it was as if my prayer came back as a blessing for me. At first I290.wondered why, and then one day when I talked with her she explained it. Every day she prayed for each member of the youth group by name. She asked G.o.d to strengthen our faith. To help us to grow in Him. To use the energies that we were given to honor Him with our lives. I knew then that Dana's prayers of faith were being answered." Graham's voice broke during that last sentence.

We sang the final hymn together. It was an old, old one that Dana loved. Grandpa Tyler's voice was rich with emotion and sang out clearly from where he stood next to Grandma. "When we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be. When we all see Jesus, we'll sing and shout the victory." I knew in my heart that Dana would be there waiting when I arrived.

After the pastor led in the last prayer, he pulled out the sheet of paper that Corey had given him. I wondered if he was going to be able to read it, but after a few moments he found his voice.Dear Dana, You were a good sister. I remember when you used to read to me and play games before you got so sick. You even let me win sometimes.

I know that you wanted to go to heaven because you hurt so bad, but I really am going to miss you here. Max will miss you too. When you see Jesus, tell him that He needs a big house for our family because we are all going to come.

I love you very much. Corey& & &.

DANA'S Valley * 291Grandma and Grandpa Tyler came back to the house with us after the funeral was over. Grandma and Mr. Paulsen came too. I guess the conversation that took place in our kitchen surprised us all.

"I never thought much about religion," I heard Mr. Paulsen say while I was setting the table. "I didn't care if other people wanted it, but I didn't figure it was for me. But what I have seen over the past months-what I have heard today-there's got to be something to it."

I saw Grandma reach over and take his hand, her eyes s.h.i.+ning with tears.

Grandpa Tyler said, "Believe me, my friend, there is. I don't know how we would have made it through the last months without our faith. There is nothing harder on parents than seeing their children suffer. We know how much Dave and Angela-and their children-have gone through over the past years. Such a long, long time to walk through the valley.

"Just as they read in Dana's favorite psalm today, we all need to face that dark valley of death, but the important thing to hang on to is the fact that is first mentioned there. 'The Lord is my Shepherd.' That about says it all. We need Him-so much. First of all as our Savior. Then as our Shepherd to lead us through all of life-especially in the tough times.

"And to know for a fact that the last words are real as well. 'I will dwell in the house of the Lord-forever.' That is priceless. But we can only claim that promise when we have accepted His way. We are sinners. We need to admit that, and seek His forgiveness. 'For G.o.d so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.' "292.Silently I quoted the well-known words with Grandpa Tyler. For a time I had almost let their truth slip away from me. I clung to them now.

I looked up in time to see Grandpa Paulsen nod his head, a thoughtful look in his eyes. I noticed that Grandma Paulsen, too, was nodding. Inwardly I breathed a prayer. Was this one way G.o.d might use our dark valley for good? Dana would have thought it was worth the suffering.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

OUR HOME WAS ODDLY quiet and still. There was nothing more that had to be done, yet there was so much that could have been taken care of had there just been the interest or the desire to move forward again. It seemed unnatural to be at rest and together after all our compressed responsibilities and our disjointedness. I think Mom and Dad felt it too. The inactivity. The lack of requirements. It was unsettling.

I tried to think of something I could do to shake the sensation. Surely a project would help, like getting ready for Christmas-or perhaps finding someplace interesting to go. But I had neither the inclination nor the energy to pursue anything, so I did nothing.

One evening Dad tried to read his newspaper, but he soon set it aside. "I think we all need to load up the van and go somewhere."

Mom looked across at him from where she reclined on the sofa, pretending to be watching a TV game show. "What did you have in mind, dear?"

"I don't know. But surely we can think of something. What haven't we done in a while?"294."Bowling," Corey was quick to respond. "I want to go bowling."

I wondered how long it had been since we'd done anything as ordinary as bowling. Probably a very long time, because Corey had never done it.

"Okay," Dad chuckled. "Let's go bowling."

I followed rather halfheartedly as we gathered coats and headed for the van. Mom ran back inside to make a quick phone call. Then we set out. The bowling alley wasn't far from our home. It was crowded and noisy-just the opposite of where we'd been. I supposed if we were trying to shake away the strangeness that we'd felt at home, this was as good a place as any. I sat down and began to put on the bowling shoes.

"Hi, Erin." A familiar voice from behind made my heart skip a beat.

I did manage to respond. "Hi, Graham. I didn't expect -I had no idea you'd be here."

He smiled, broad and pleasant. "Your mom called. She said you might like some company."

I tossed Mom a smile of thanks and moved toward Graham. "I'm glad you came. Are you planning to bowl?"

"I sure am. I've already got my shoes on and everything." He shook a foot where I could see it to prove that it was true, then he winked at me. "I intend to win tonight." He pumped an arm, and we laughed.

We divided ourselves between two lanes. Dad and Mom and Corey played on one. Brett and Graham and I played on the other. None of us were particularly talented, so there was plenty of opportunity for laughs and good-natured teasing. And we all enjoyed watching Corey most of all.DANA'S Valley * 295After talking ourselves into a third game, we finally had to admit it was time to call it a night. Graham asked to drive me home, and Dad nodded. I think he was even pleased. It was kind of neat that my parents liked him so much.

We walked to Graham's car in silence, and I climbed inside while he held my door. It felt awfully good to be with him again. Familiar and safe. I leaned back against the seat and waited for him to slide in beside me.

We had already pulled out of the parking lot before he spoke. "I've been thinking about you a lot. How are you doing?" The gentle sincerity was still in his voice. I had missed it so very much.

"Pretty well. Christmas will be hard for us-and good all at the same time. I think we all feel listless, but tonight helped. And it's kind of nice to be with you again." I smiled at my little quip, and he smiled back in the dim lights. I knew there was more he wanted to know, but I wasn't sure where to begin.

"I do see it now . . . the answers to all those prayers," I started slowly as he began driving. "It took some very painful conversations-with Dana and Mom-and G.o.d. Now I see so much more of the big picture. The ways G.o.d really was taking care of us." I paused to collect my thoughts. "You were right. And Dana said pretty much the same thing. In a way, this was an opportunity for us to be faithful. Dana came through with flying colors. She was inspiring. I'm afraid I failed pretty miserably. But I learned a lot too."

The traffic light ahead turned red, and we slowed to a stop. "I owe you an apology, Graham. I said some awful things. I wish I could take it all back."

"Erin," he whispered, "I forgave you for that a long296.time ago." His hand reached across and grasped mine. "I only hope there's still time to start over. You know, I meant it when I said that you're my best friend."

My face flushed with the warmth of the joy bubbling up inside me. And I whispered back, "I'm so glad you can still say that."& & ftChristmas was fast approaching, though our family felt little in the way of the usual "holiday spirit." Shortly after Thanksgiving we had managed to put up a tree, mostly for Dana's sake, since she was then still with us and Mom thought it might bring her some pleasure. Now it was well into December, and there was little other evidence of Christmas in our home. Even Corey was fairly ambivalent to the fact that his favorite time of the year was almost upon us.

I was doing homework at the kitchen table one afternoon, and Dad came in with the mail and dropped a number of envelopes at the other end. He pulled out a chair and sat down to go through them. "That's interesting," he murmured.

Mom hung her dish towel and moved to take a look. "What is, dear?"

"There are several Christmas cards here from people I don't know. Four addressed to Tie Family of Dana Walsh."

Mom thumbed through and opened one. She read it aloud. " 'Dear Dana's famly, My name is Matt. I am Dana's frend and I have cancer too. I am 8 years old. My mom said I could have a Christmas card to send you. IDANA'S Valley & 297want to say I am sorry that Dana died. I miss her. She use to write me alot. Espeshly on the computer. She told me Bible stories. I asked for a Bible for Christmas. Dana said she liked to reed hers, it made her feel better. I hope it helps me too because I will probly die soon too. I hope you have a grate Christmas. Love, Matt Sanders.' " There was a drawing, too, that Matt had made of the children's ward with Dana in the center.

Dad looked a little shaken. Mom laid the letter slowly on the table and dropped into a chair beside him.

"I met him," she said almost tenderly. "It would make Dana so happy to know Matt wants a Bible. I think he was extra special to her."

Dad squeezed Mom's hand and reached for another envelope. " 'Dear Walsh Family, Merry Christmas from Dana's nurses. Angela, we were very surprised by the Christmas gifts. It was so thoughtful of you to send them. It means a great deal that Dana had wanted us to have them. We miss her deeply. She touched so many here. Best Wishes, Joyce, Karen, Gail, Beth and Rita.'

Dad placed the card back on the table, and Mom began to explain. "We did a little shopping in our last days together. Dana was certain she wouldn't be with us this Christmas, but she wanted to give presents anyway. So she did her shopping early with the help of the Internet." Mom smiled at Dad. "It made her happy knowing she wouldn't really miss out on gift giving."

Dad's eyes dropped. He fingered the card as Mom read another.

'Dear Dave, Angela and family, We're the parents of Sondra Fleetwood. We wanted to express to you our thanks for sharing Dana with us. Sondra thought the world of Dana, and we've been so thankful that she could298.have a friend at the clinic who was so outgoing and caring -and such an example of grace under fire. Few of us can accept suffering the way that Dana did and still be so focused on others. The thought of seeing Dana always gave Sondra something to look forward to on our visits to the cancer treatment center. And I looked forward to the times when we prayed together, Angela. I find it's so much harder to pray when I'm alone. We'll all miss Dana deeply. May G.o.d bless your Christmas, Ed and Lisa Fleetwood.'

By then, we all had tears in our eyes. It was painful to read the cards-and wonderful too. Each one represented another person or family that Dana had impacted. I had not thought much about her world at the center or the friends she'd made. We read another card, and then another. Then we pinned them carefully in a row along one wall in the kitchen. It would be a little easier to celebrate Christmas with the cards as a reminder of Dana.

The next day, four more cards arrived. And on the next, we received a flower arrangement from our church and six more Christmas cards. The kitchen wall was beginning to fill, and with it a warm feeling of Christmas, in its truest sense, grew in our little house. We were enveloped in the wonder of love and hope. The lingering oppressiveness of death was being swept away in the victory of life.& & &.Corey woke early on Christmas morning and came directly to my room. "Erin. Psst, Erin. It's morning. Are you awake?"

DANA S V A I L T & 299.I moaned. "I'm awake now. Is anybody else up?"

"Nope, but I think if we make a little noise, they'll come." His eyes twinkled.

"Okay. I'll get up."

I struggled into my robe and walked with Corey to the living room and our Christmas tree. We turned on the Christmas lights, then headed out to the kitchen. I talked him into letting me fix the coffee and a little breakfast for the family before I set him loose to start making his "noise." He worked beside me in the kitchen and then scurried out to bang around near Dad's office door, where Brett was sleeping, stretched out on a cot.

"What'd you let him do that for?" Brett's hair was disheveled and his eyes were still nearly shut when he shuffled into the kitchen. I laughed. He still seemed to have trouble getting his motor running in the mornings.

"Merry Christmas, big brother."

"Yah, whatever." But he didn't look as Scrooge-like as his words sounded.

Mom and Dad arrived shortly after Brett. They were pleased to see breakfast already prepared and were glad I'd been able to stall Corey off a little while. It was still very early.

We took our seats and paused to pray. "Heavenly Father," Dad began, "we have so much to thank you for. For each person around this table, and for Dana who is already in your hands. Thank you that because you allowed your own Son to leave your side and come to us so long ago, Dana can be with you now when her life with us is over. Thank you that you are sovereign over life and death."

I sneaked a peek at my family. At Corey, who was nine and still, somehow, our baby. At Brett, who was now a300.man, and whose heart had returned at last to our family. At Mom, whose eyes looked almost completely rested again from the long struggle that Dana's illness had brought. And at Dad, who had never wavered from his role as leader of our home. I loved them all so deeply. It was so wonderful to feel, though we were not all present, that we were whole as a family again.

Dana had selected gifts for each of us. I didn't know what she'd tucked into the other Christmas presents before she had wrapped them, but I was overwhelmed with what she'd placed in mine. Laid on top, in a new frame, was her picture of the costume party-the one she'd placed so conspicuously near her in the hospital room. I studied her joyful, carefree face and the beautiful b.u.t.terfly wings she'd labored so long to create. I wondered, as I had once read in a children's story, did one really receive wings as a reward upon arrival in heaven? If it were true, then Dana had spent her short lifetime crafting them-just right.

And underneath the picture, wrapped in tissue, were her journals, with a note thanking me for allowing her to share the joys and adventures of my teen years. The years she'd missed.

In my heart I knew that someday I would read through the journals and know from Dana's own heart exactly what her valley of shadow had been like. For now, it was enough just to hold the notebooks against me and smile through my tears.I.^.

Children's Books by Janette JokeMaking Memories What Does Love Look Like?

s.p.u.n.ky's Camping Adventure s.p.u.n.ky's Circus Adventure s.p.u.n.ky's First ChristmasJanette Oke's animal friends (full-color, for young readers)s.p.u.n.ky's Diary The Prodigal Cat The Impatient Turtle This Little Pig New Kid in Town Ducktails A Cote of Many Colors A Prairie Dog Town Maury Had a Little Lamb Trouble in a Fur Coat Pordy's p.r.i.c.kly Problem Who's New at the Zoo?The above t.i.tles are also available as cla.s.sic children's stories for older readers.QIC.

<5^h haling="" ***="" ^/^^="" families="" a="" compelling="" saga="" of="" secret="" choices="" and="" second="" chances="" eve's="" daughters="" by="" lynn="" austinyearning="" for="" love="" and="" dignity,="" four="" generations="" of="" women="" must="" come="" to="" grips="" with="" the="" choices="" they've="" made="" and="" those="" their="" mothers="" made="" before="" them.="" at="" the="" heart="" of="" their="" struggle="" rests="" a="" dark="" secret="" that,="" if="" told,="" may="" have="" the="" power="" to="" heal="" old="" wounds="" -="" or="" may="" tear="" the="" family="" apart="" forever.the="" tale="" of="" a="" prodigal's="" returna="" son="" corner="" home="" by="" joseph="" bentzit="" took="" the="" news="" of="" his="" father's="" illness="" to="" bring="" chris="" larue="" home="" for="" the="" summer.="" after="" fleeing="" home="" following="" his="" brother's="" tragic="" death,="" chris="" struggles="" to="" set="" aside="" his="" bitterness="" and="" renew="" the="" shattered="" relations.h.i.+ps="" he'd="" left="" behind.="" but="" he="" discovers="" that="" david's="" presence="" still="" looms="" over="" the="" house,="" and="" freeing="" his="" family="" from="" the="" presence="" may="" take="" revealing="" a="" betrayal="" his="" brother="" took="" to="" the="" grave.$="" bethanyhouse.11400="" hamps.h.i.+re="" ave="" s="" ,="" minneapolis,="" run="" 55438="" www="" bethanyhouse.com="" 1800-328-6109="" beautiful="" and="" vivacious,="" dana="" looks="" forward="" to="" her="" high="" school="" years---until="" she="" learns="" that="" a="" devastating="" illness="" may="" destroy="" her="">

As she and her family struggle with the news, her younger sister Erin questions G.o.d's goodness---and her faith. A moving coming-of-age story sensitively told by this mother-and-daughter team of authors.