challenger...past memories...present joy

For the past two years on January 28th, I have shared my memories and events surrounding the Challenger explosion in 1986…

In 2012, we have had the joy of celebrating the birth of our first grandchild, Colton, on April 5…he is truly the light of our lives…such a joy to watch him grow and develop! In 2012, our daughter, Tracy, has added two entries to her own blog to express her feelings regarding the weeks leading up to and following Colton’s birth…do the next thing and getting out of the house

In January 2013, I visited Lake Wales and returned to the little brick school building where I held the hand of a little kindergartener, Nathan Connell, some 27 years ago on January 28, 1986...

Every year on January 28 since 1986, when I see the news broadcasts which replay the Challenger explosion...I, like everyone who was alive on that day, go back to where I was when it happened...where I was physically and emotionally...but this year the memory has expanded to include the blog I wrote on January 28, 2011, and being able to connect with the little boy who held my hand that day.

On January 28, 2011, I had no idea that my experience from that time so many years before, would be repeated in our daughter's life just a few weeks later...Tracy expressed her feelings so well in her own blog on February 23, 2011...this is how it feels to be held...

I have included below the blog I wrote in 2011, and my correspondence since last January with the little boy, Nathan Connell, who held my hand that fateful day...

It was Tuesday, January 28, 1986, at 11:38 a.m. This was my first day back at school as a teacher of children in the gifted education program since having a miscarriage at 10 weeks gestation one week before.

Our little school building, the East Area Alpha Center, was located high on a ridge in Lake Wales, Florida. Tuesdays were the days that all the kindergarten and first grade students in the gifted program from Davenport all the way down the ridge to Frostproof were brought to our little center in Lake Wales to participate in a creative and critical thinking curriculum.

I took the hand of Nathan Connell, a bright-eyed, brown-haired kindergartener who was wise beyond his years. I was wearing my London Fog trench coat with the lining zipped in on this unusually cold Florida morning. We joined the 45 other students and two other teachers out on the lawn of the school and we all were looking up. The sky was a brilliant cerulean blue. We watched Challenger rise into the sky, the bright orange glow of its rockets and white plume of smoke below the orange glow. Suddenly, as Nathan and I held hands and watched, the orange glow exploded and the white plumes of smoke were diverging vertically from above the orange glow. It was unlike any shuttle launch we had seen before, was it a second stage rocket booster? I looked down at Nathan’s knowing expression with his eyes glued to the Challenger and he said, “I hope the astronauts had parachutes.” We were outside, we had no TV or radio announcer to provide commentary. But Nathan knew. The glorious beginning had ended.

I wrote in my journal that evening…“I feel empty…beginnings ended…nerve endings of emotion…raw, open, exposed…longings of my heart…reaching out, vulnerable…soft to the touch…aching need, grieving for what is lost, for what could have been…”

February 17, 2011, Comment via Facebook from Nathan Connell

Dear Beth, You cannot imagine how overcome with emotion I was to read that blog post. I remember that day and I remember it with such clarity. I'm now a physician in Rhode Island, having just finished my internal medicine residency. This summer, I'm starting a fellowship in hematology and oncology so I'll be working in the cancer center here at Brown University's teaching hospitals. Thank you so much for reaching out and thank you for everything you did for me that day and during my time as your student. Keep in touch...

-Nathan

February 19, 2011...Nathan, thank you so much for your kind words, they mean so much to me...there are those moments in our lives that we do remember with such clarity, probably because of the emotions involved...every year on January 28 when the news programs replay the video of Challenger and ask "Where were you..." I go right back there to Lake Wales, holding your sweet little hand...this year I felt led to write about it on my blog...with your permission, I would like to add your comments above to my blog...you have made wonderfully wise choices with your life, and I know you will be a blessing to the hematology and oncology patients at the cancer center...our lives are so short, no matter how many years we live...blessings, beth

February 21, 2011, Response from Nathan Connell..."Of course, please feel free to use my comments however you wish and again, thank you for everything you've done for me!"

-Nathan

what a year of change

jack, beth, mom, tracy, zac, jason, eddie--10-4-08

            What a year this has been. My mother, Frances Mae Carson Willis, at age 82, went home to be with Jesus on April 30, after a three-year decline mentally and physically due to dementia. Our youngest child, Jason Willis Miller, graduated from high school on June 6 and left our home on September 10 for college. We also lost our two dogs to cancer within eight months of each other this year.
Philippians 3:10 from the Amplified Bible has become my daily prayer throughout this season of change. “For my determined purpose is that I may know Him, that I may progressively become more deeply and intimately acquainted with Him, recognizing, perceiving, and understanding the wonders of His person more clearly and more strongly.” God has answered that prayer. I am progressively becoming more deeply and intimately acquainted with my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ through this season of change.

            My mother moved in with me, my husband, Jack, and our daughter, Tracy, following my father’s death in 1989. My parents had no life insurance, no investments, no savings, and my mother had never worked outside the home. For many years, it was a blessing to all of us. She was there for Tracy after school or when we had to work late. When our son, Jason, was born in 1991, she was a great help, and it was a joy for our children to have their only grandmother living with our family. As osteoporosis fractures in Mom’s spine began to cause her more and more unbearable pain, and pain management medications became stronger, dementia began to take over her mind.

            God met me at the point of my need, answering my prayer through giving me a heart to set my alarm for 5 a.m. each morning so that I would have quiet time with Him and His word each morning before I faced the day. Each morning as I awake and before my feet hit the floor, I begin asking Him to speak to me through His word. After putting on a pot of coffee, and settling down at my kitchen table, I open His word, and listen for His still small voice to minister to me. I have written a journal during these various seasons of change over the years, and how a specific Scripture would be just what I would need for that day, that moment in time.

            As my mother’s mental and physical health began to decline three years ago, God answered my prayer by helping us to find the funding for a wonderful assisted living facility nearby that provided her with the care and security she needed. I was able to go there daily to see her, interact with her caregivers, and help with her care. Mom would often ask me to pray with her, and it was such a comfort to both of us as we would come before the throne of grace together, seeking the loving arms of our Great Shepherd. He walked with us through the valley of the shadow of death as she lingered for several days in the palliative care unit at our local hospital before Mom stepped out of time and into eternity with Jesus, our Savior and Lord.

jason at college

            Mom’s last year on earth was also our son Jason’s last year in high school. One of the last things Mom was able to articulate prior to her homegoing was that she prayed that Jason would be able to go to the college that he wanted to attend. God has answered that prayer by helping us to put together the financial aid needed for him to attend college. God has met me right at the point of my need, even in this season of an “empty nest.”

            God is into the details of our lives, as He has answered my prayer to know Him more deeply and more intimately, He has met my needs moment-by-moment. Even to the point of leading us to a little beagle-mix puppy who had been rescued from abandonment just days after we returned from taking Jason to college. Our little beagle, “Cookie,” has filled our empty arms with love and joy. How kind, what compassion, to meet us right at the point of our need! Even though this has been a season of great change, great loss, I can truly say, my determined purpose is still that I may know Him, that I may progressively become more deeply and intimately acquainted with Him, recognizing, perceiving, and understanding the true wonders of His person more clearly and more strongly every day.  

our sweet little "Cookie"

(c) 2011 beth willis miller