Author: jmayville

Is there anything more stressful and yet exciting as moving day?! Okay, maybe your wedding! But since I’m in the midst of another move with my youngest daughter, I’m feeling like moving is a real close 2nd and we often do it more often than we marry! Over the years I have done quite a bit of moving. I only moved once with my parents and it was to a new house in the same town. 

Upon graduation from college, I lived in an apartment with a friend and then alone in an apartment. I moved to an apartment in Savannah the summer before my wedding in November in order to start my new teaching position here. After our wedding, Chris added his belongings to mine in my apartment. 

After a year, we moved into our first home. 

In our 25 years here, we lived in four  different homes. Each home holds special memories for me and my children. We were in each house long enough to really enjoy our time in them and to accumulate a lot of stuff! I loved having garage sales to try to clear things out. Chris had never experienced one before our first one and boy was he in for a treat! He couldn’t believe that people would go though a box of our old clothes and then pay me to take them home. He just couldn’t get over the things people would buy. I made $800 on my first garage sale! I can still see Chris’s face when I told him that- totally shocked and shaking his head.  He was actually quite proud of me. 

We moved into our last home in November 1999. It was a fabulous house with a great front yard and a pool in the backyard. There was also a huge playroom. Our children were 4, 10 and 12. It was the perfect house for us. It needed some work when we first moved in and other changes were done over time, mostly cosmetic.
Between the huge playroom and the pool, our house was the gathering place for the kids in the neighborhood. I loved that! We had birthday pool parties and end of school parties, but the best pool party was the Polar Bear Plunge held on New Year’s Day. Adults and kids squealing and laughing at the top of their lungs and yes, sometimes turning blue. We enjoyed hot chocolate and brownies. Great memories were made! 

When Chris died in February 2012, the house became a constant reminder of Chris. The memories of him were everywhere. It was a very strange feeling to be there and never have him come home. I often found myself looking up hoping to see him walk through the doors. Pulling up to the driveway and not seeing his car there caused my heart to sink. Part of me wanted out of the house immediately, but my head knew that doing something that big shouldn’t be a knee jerk reaction. Everything I read and the advice of my minister and counselor was not to make a life decision like that within the first year of Chris’s death. Everyone grieves differently and in their own time take the steps they need to in their journey toward healing. I have friends who are widows/widowers and they have stayed in their family home. Others moved in the first year.  Because of circumstances beyond my control, I stayed.  I had to hire help to care of the yard and the pool. Of course, things broke in the house and I was on my own to handle them. Thankfully many of Chris’s friends had left business cards with me and I had his daily planners that had contacts listed. I called on these sweet men to help and they did. 

I knew that when my youngest left for college I would be lost in the house. It was perfect size for a family of five but way too big for one person. So in the spring of her junior year, I decided that I needed to look at selling the house and finding a place to continue the journey of healing; someplace that I would be safe and comfortable and that Katie would be able to feel was home so that she would want to come back to it from college. I called a friend who is a realtor and she agreed to help me. The house was on the market for a week before I had a serious offer on it. I freaked out. She had shown me many houses during the weeks before listing mine but nothing was really clicking as “the house for me”. Now I had to find a house! I didn’t want to settle on something in haste, so I was preparing myself for the possibility of moving to an apartment. I went through listings online every night looking for the perfect place. One night I found a new build putting me 10 minutes from the beach. As soon as I walked in I knew this was the house I was meant to have. I fell in love with it. There’s a security gate, a community dock, and only 24 houses in the community. We all know each other and look out for each other. It’s a great place to be. I am very happy to be here. 
Prior to moving in I held a “Bless this House” party. It was a special afternoon with friends gathered in the empty house to celebrate getting to this place in my journey through grief. 

Moving day was difficult but with the support of family and friends, we did it! As we were taking out the last of the boxes and bags, my youngest daughter said,” It doesn’t feel like home anymore. I’m okay leaving.” She’ll never know how much those words meant to me that day. 
We carried the precious memories created there out of the door with us and left the stresses of the upkeep of the nineteen sixty something house behind us. 

I’ve been in the new house for three years and have never questioned my decision to move or the home I chose to purchase. I believe that God led me to that decision at right time and everything fell right into place. 

-Surrounded by love, seeking mercy, and receiving grace. 

I am blessed. 

(Pretty Place Chapel, SC – Photo by The Digital Mirage on Flickr)

Back in October 2016 our church was having Stewardship Drive. Our minister and friend, Jim Giddens, called and asked me if I would share my witness of of Skidaway Island UMC in my life. I was taken back by this but because of some events that had recently taken place I had written a thank you letter to the staff and felt that this could be my jumping off point for my talk, so I agreed to do it. I did a lot of praying for guidance and strength to share my story. My message wasn’t about financial Stewardship but rather about service and a reminder about kindness. I am sharing my message with you today. Remember that the smallest act of kindness can make a huge difference in someone’s day or life! 

(I have used initials of individuals I mentioned in my original talk to protect their privacy)

Good morning! Today I am honored to share with you my relationship with SI United Methodist Church, including its ministries and members. 

My husband, Chris, and I began attending SI  Methodist shortly after the small chapel was completed. We’ve come a long way since those first years in the chapel, but what has remained consistent through all of this growth is the dedication of the body of this church to serving others and growing each other in the love of Christ. 

Chris and I became very involved in church programs and activities. We joined a Sunday School class. We took turns with other parents to cover the nursery because at that time we hadn’t hired Ms. P.. I taught children’s church and worked at Vacation Bible School for many years. We loved participating in family ministry activities. There was a family camping adventure here on the church grounds that is an especially memorable event – Families in tents all over the property! It was great! We loved the Halloween parties at the parsonage and the Easter Egg hunts on the grounds. Our children participated in the children’s choir and in the Christmas Pageant. The candlelight Christmas service was always a special night for our family. I have to say that our Meghan especially loved Jim! She would run up to him for huge hugs after church. She often ran with so much enthusiasm that I was often afraid she would knock him down!

Chris was raised in the Catholic church. For several years, even after the birth of our first two children, we would attend both churches on Sunday, but Chris began to feel more comfortable with the worship service and the theology of the Methodist Church. He even taught a high school Sunday school class. Katie, our third child was baptized here in 1997 when we held worship services in what is now Bailey’s Social Hall. Chris often ushered and was a part of the donkey brigade, a team who would set up and take down tables and chairs for events and reset for church.

With three children we were very busy with extracurricular activities. We found ourselves on the road almost every weekend. Chris and I felt it was important to travel as a family as often as we could. But, all of this travelling kept us from being home on Sundays, and therefore our attendance at church became very sporadic. I regret this and wish I could go back and change it because on February 21, 2012 my world was turned upside down. My dear, sweet loving husband committed suicide. I was devastated. I lost my best friend and soulmate. My children lost their father whom they adored. Totally lost, I asked someone to call Rev. JG. He came to the house immediately. He listened. We prayed. I cried and he held me. He and our Heavenly Father led me through the next five days. I hadn’t seen JG in five years and yet he came. I don’t know what I would have done without him. Our sweet TC in the front office helped me acquire a place for Chris in the memory garden. She answered all of my questions with such kindness, even when she had already answered it the day before. 
Rev. JC said we could have a reception in Bailey Hall after the memorial service. I have no idea how that came together. In spite of my state of mind at the time, I was keenly aware of all the church members who were there. People were working so hard for me, my family, Chris’s family and our friends. These church members didn’t know me, or at least not many of them did, but there they were- working so hard for us. I remember seeing a familiar face or two putting out food and then I wondered – Where did all of this food come from? I was and still am so thankful for all that this special group of members did for my family and friends that day. 

I came to church the following Sunday – lots of new faces and a sprinkling of familiar ones. I sat near the back of the sanctuary. I just wanted to blend into the background. Memories washed over me. I cried silent tears throughout the service. A hand from someone sitting behind me reached up and rested on my shoulder. To this day I don’t know who it was but it was a comforting touch that I’ll never forget. After the service, Mrs. M., who was one of those familiar faces from years back, came up to me and hugged me. I was home.

Thank you to each person that reached out to me those first weeks back. Matthew 25:40 comes to mind: “the King will reply, “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you did for me.” 
I’m still finding my way in this new life and I am so very thankful for SI Methodist being a constant from one life to another. I love being a part of this growing community of faith. I have attended a couple of adult outings and a women’s bible study and just recently I joined the choir. 

Because of what has been done for me, I will reach out to those unfamiliar faces, reach out and comfort those who are struggling, and try to positively influence the lives of others.

It is kindness to others that spreads and grows God’s kingdom. After all, isn’t that what called God calls us to do? 

So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets. – Matthew 7:12
 

After losing Maggie, I told the children it would be a while before I was ready to have another dog. Losing she and Chris in a two week time span had been just a little overwhelming. 
Six months later I got a phone call from Meghan, my middle child. She and her friends had stopped a man from tossing a puppy into the Savannah River the night before. She asked me if I would just foster him because he was underweight and too young to be adopted. They would get him adopted when he was older. Of course, I agreed. About thirty minutes later, she arrived with the tiniest baby pittie I had ever seen. He was precious with his big floppy ears. Later he would have one up and one down. We called them “derp ears”! 
It was love at first sight. He was five weeks old and weighed under 10 pounds. A special diet was required for the first couple of weeks and several vet visits. Our vet fell in love with him. Over the years, he named Koda the poster dog for Pitties. He was a lover not a fighter! He was a huge lap dog. 
My youngest daughter and I began the task of naming him in the days following his arrival. We agreed on Koda. In the Sioux language, it means “friend”. Little did I know how appropriate this name was for him. 

He was a soccer puppy! My oldest daughter was playing college soccer and I tried to be there for every game. That meant Koda had to do some traveling early in his life. I certainly couldn’t leave him behind with anyone. 😉 So, I’d pack up his belongings and he hit the road with us! We snuck him into games in a small, unzipped duffle bag and he just chilled. He laid in my lap and slept in the car. 

He loved to sleep on the sofa with me. I wasn’t sleeping in my bed. It was just too hard. For a long time he could sleep in my lap or on top of me when I laid down. When he got too big for that he would push himself between the back of the sofa and me with his nose. For the next four years of his life that was his favorite place to be. It was the sweetest. His snuggles comforted me on many a night that first year after Chris died. It did get somewhat challenging when he weighed 75 pounds but somehow we made it work. Occasionally he would stretch and push his feet into my back, which often left me on the floor!


When he was a little over a year old, he had his first seizure. He was usually asleep at night when they occurred. He would begin convulsing. He foamed at the mouth. He lost control of his bladder. I knew from training at school and experience with students that staying calm was important, speaking softly, giving him a safe space. It was horrible to watch but the worst part was actually the time after the seizure would end, the post-ictal phase. This was when he would try to walk but he was disoriented, confused, restless, panting heavily and even experience temporary blindness.

He was diagnosed with Idiopathic epilepsy, an inherited disorder. He was placed on medication- phenobarbital and potassium bromide. Eventually, I had to start administering a shot of diazepan/Valium to him rectally as soon as a seizure began to try to keep him from cluster seizing. 
In the beginning, he was asleep when the seizure started. Later and when they occurred more frequently they occurred while he was awake. He went from single seizure events to clusters and from once every couple of months to once every three weeks. 
He was the sweetest, most loving dog I’ve ever known. He just wanted to hang out with me. When I couldn’t sleep he would stay up with me. We’d go for late night walks. He just wanted to cuddle. He’d jump up on top of you as soon as you levered the recliner back! 

When he was four years old, he was worn out. Our vet had gone above and beyond to help him and me. He was just amazing. I am so thankful for his willingness to try everything possible to try to relieve him of these gripping seizures. He even kept him for 10 days trying a new procedure with him, even sleeping at the office once with him. 
In addition to the tender, loving care Koda received from the vet, he was spoiled rotten by our fabulous Dogsitter! She loved Koda so much. I never worried about him when I left her in charge. She even handled seizures on her own. I could never thank her enough for all that she did for us. 
In the summer of 2016, Koda wasn’t doing well. His seizures were coming on more frequently and often. He was zoning out while standing. He wasn’t walking very well. I was beginning to question his quality of life. I left for a trip with much concern about his well being. My youngest daughter and our trusted dog sitter were caring for him. I received a call from them saying that he couldn’t walk up the stairs anymore so they had put his kennel in the entryway downstairs. They later called to say he wasn’t leaving the kennel. I told them to call the vet and take him in. I asked for no heroic measures but rather to make him comfortable. The vet was so upset seeing him like this. He knew what needed to be done but it was breaking his heart to have to do it. It had only been a month or two since he had said he couldn’t put him down. And I had said I wouldn’t want anyone else to do it. Now, here he was being asked to do the unthinkable. I told them to focus on his quality of life, not his age. If they felt he couldn’t fully recover, it was time to let him go. I was the hardest decision I’ve ever made. 

The saying,”Who rescued who?”, totally describes my relationship with Koda. He came into my life when I needed his unconditional love. He gave it to me completely. I did everything I could for him and loved him more than any other dog we’ve ever owned. He was mine and I was his.  Until we meet again, my sweet boy………

Our first family dog came into our lives when the children were young. She was a black Labrador retriever named Kelly. She was precious to us all. Chris was hilarious about having a dog. He “gave in”. He didn’t think we needed a dog. “Dogs are a lot of work.” All of the complaining and yet, if he was doing yard work, Kelly was laying unleashed in the front yard with him. She road in the truck with him. She went on walks in the woods with him. Kelly loved the children but Chris was her master, the pack leader. Chris and the children loved to play hide and seek with her in the woods. She would run ahead and turn around to check on everyone but no one was there! They were all hiding behind trees. She would backtrack and sniff out everyone!  We lost Kelly when she was 5 years old. We had recently moved and she got out of the fence and was hit by a car. A friend saw her lying on the side of the road and called me. She had already passed away. The loss was so hard on the children but also on Chris. He was quick to say we needed another dog. About six months after we lost Kelly, Chris came home to say that he had a friend with chocolate lab puppies.

Needless to say, we fell in love immediately with a beautiful girl who was the runt of the litter. We named her Maggie and she was just as awesome as Kelly had been. She was Chris’s constant companion. She loved to jump in the pool after a ball! She did get into a bit of trouble when she and Hershey, a rescued Chocolate lab we were blessed to have with us for a little over a year, got into a bag of stuff animals from the garage. When I came home, my backyard was covered in synthetic snow, a winter wonderland of fun!  

When Chris died, there was a lot of activity and people coming and going at the house and Maggie got lots of loving. When the new normal began, I noticed her moping around. She had recently had some health issues so I wasn’t overly concerned. One day I called her to come inside and she came to the door with one of Chris’s yard gloves in her mouth. My heart dropped to my stomach. I told her to drop it. She refused. Crying, I let her bring it inside. She laid down and rested her head on the glove. 

I sat down beside her and we mourned our loss together. Two nights later she couldn’t/wouldn’t get up. With the help of a friend, we took her to the emergency vet, who said they could keep her comfortable but she most likely wouldn’t walk again. So, the girls and I made the decision to take away her suffering. I know that Chris was waiting for her on the other side, calling her to come to him. And she did. We were blessed to have her in our lives for twelve years. 
Our fur babies are such a special part of our lives, always loyal and present. 

If you have had the honor of owning a dog, I hope you have your own treasured memories. 

Finding the motivation and gumption to get up and go in the mornings during those months after Chris’s death wasn’t easy. Mornings are much more difficult for me than nights are. Waking up without him just reinforces that I am alone. 

Having Katie still at home helped me tremendously because I knew she was depending on me for motivation and support as well as to meet her basic needs. 

 I don’t remember where this came from. It may have been inside a card or note. I typed it out, printed it and taped it to the mirror in my bathroom and literally read it aloud every morning. 

Be at PeaceDo not look forward in fear to the changes of life,

Rather look to them with full hope that as they arise, God, whose very own I am, will lead me safely through all things;

and when I cannot stand, God will carry me in His loving arms.

Do not fear what may happen tomorrow;

The same everlasting Father who cares for me today will take care of me every day.

He will either shield me from suffering or will give me unfailing strength to bear it.

Be at peace and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations.

St. Francis de Sales
Take one day at a time or as I share with others experiencing great loss, you may have to take it one minute at a time. Take baby steps. Put one foot in front of the other. You are building up your strength and creating a new normal. It doesn’t happen overnight. Most importantly, pray often. 

A friend of my mother’s gave me a devotional book when Chris died. She had received it from a friend when she lost her husband. My copy is now dog-earred with post-it notes marking especially meaningful devotions. I’ve written all in the margins as well. I put it in my car and when I arrived at work, I would sit in the car and read the devotion for the day, read the prayer provided and then added a prayer for strength to get through each minute of the day because honestly all I wanted to do was to turn around and go home. 

I would text my dear friend Susan to let her know I had arrived. Some days I had to ask her to meet me at my car to walk into the building with me. I am thankful that our administration was completely supportive and helpful through weeks and months I pushed through to get to summer vacation. 

Now, I pass this book along to my friends who have lost a loved one. I hope it brings them as much peace and comfort as it has brought to me. 

Psalm 34:18- The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

The Fourth of July, Independence Day, a day to celebrate our country’s forefathers who made the decision to declare our independence from England. It’s a holiday that for us has always been a time to be with family. Whether we were in Atlanta with Chris’s family or at Surfside Beach with mine, there was always plenty of laughter, food, fireworks and fun! Hard to believe but there were a couple of years the Mayville family ran in the Peachtree Road Race! I always “volunteered” to keep all the young children. Someone had to do it! 😉
We were at the beach this year and I will forever cherish the memories created. I think we found our new breakfast place. We’re pretty excited about it. Sadly the one Chris loved to take the children to has changed ownership. No one was willing to even go back until this year and those who went a few weeks ago decided that it isn’t the same and not somewhere they want to continue visiting. There was putt-putt and shopping and a drive down the strip. There was plenty of beach time- digging moats, net fishing, boogie boarding, skim boarding and kick the bucket soccer, which ended with two pretty ugly injuries. Oops! Nobody said we weren’t competitive! 
By far the best part of beach time this year was introducing my precious grandson to the beach. Walking with him, my son and daughter-in-love to the edge of the ocean and putting his toes in the water and welcoming him to the beach was totally awesome. He may not have squealed with delight but he also didn’t scream in fear! He was quite content. He even dug his toes down in the sand. During the course of the week, his aunts and I had the opportunity to dip his toes in the water. It was special for all of us. The beach has always been our happy place and to all be there to share in PC’s first experience was important. 
Cole Swindell’s song, “You Should Be Here” came to mind throughout the week as I thought of Chris not being here to experience these grandparent and parent moments. He always said he wanted to be called C Pop by the grands and I should be called Chickie Poo! I have no idea where that came from and I always laughed and told him Chickie Poo was not an appropriate name for a Grandma, that I would be good with GiGi or MiMi. He would have loved having his turn dipping PC’s toes in the ocean. I know he was smiling as he watched us. 

I believe the happiness and joy I was able to experience watching the children and my brother and his family play on the beach came from being content in where we all are now and from Chris’s presence and God’s grace.
My heart still hurts but I can enjoy special family moments without falling apart now. I can be present in the moment and appreciate God’s blessings in my life, starting with Chris. 

This photo was taken just before the Murrells Inlet Fireworks July 4, 2010. It’s the only family photo we have with KP in it. I can’t express the importance of taking lots of photos of your family. They become a connection with the past and loved ones you’ve lost. 

Isaiah 41:10 So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Today I drove to Surfside Beach, SC, as I have done every summer for over 30 years but this visit will be very different. This will be my grandson’s first trip to the beach. He is only 4 months old, but as it was with his dad and aunts, it is important to get the beach imprinted on his little mind as early as possible. I am so excited about sharing this experience with him! I’m like a kid at Christmas! I have bought a beach blanket, a huge umbrella, a wagon, and have packed up toys, books and the Pack and Play my dear friends gave me at my Grandma Shower! I’m taking anything I can to help make the packing easier for Carter and KP. I don’t want anything to discourage them from returning! 😉 I hope this will be the first of many visits for him. I envision MiMi Camp being held there for at least one week each summer! 😊 
My parents bought the house in 1983, my senior year of college. I graduated with a degree in elementary education and was fortunate enough to secure a job in Summerville,SC. This made traveling to the beach house during the summers very convenient. Even after Chris and I married, I would spend part of my summer there. As our family grew, we spent more time there. I would pack up the children and head to the beach for four to six weeks at a time. My parents would come and help out during the week and Chris would come up on the weekends and for one or two full weeks. It was a fabulous time in our lives. The memories created here are as numerous as the grains of sand on the beach. 
This made returning after Chris’s death very difficult. In March, following his death, my dear sweet friends Susan and Shand went to the beach with me. I needed the first trip back to be without the children. I had to process being here without him. It was an emotional roller coaster all weekend. Ultimately, it was a healing weekend. The memories were comforting and I was at peace. The beach always brings me peace. There’s just something special about the sound of the waves crashing on the shores, the feel of the sand between my toes and the gentle breeze blowing in my face. 
Life is different but it’s still good. We are creating more memories and I know Chris will be watching over us. Yes, I wish he was actually here but I can’t focus on that. I have to live in the moment. I have to be present, all in, for our children and grandson. 
Proverbs 3:5-6

5 Trust in the Lord with all your heart

    and lean not on your own understanding;

6 in all your ways submit to him,

    and he will make your paths straight.

Preface As you know, this is a new experience for me; I didn’t even do blogging with my students. I have found the process that I go through to get my final writing completed to be a kind of wild ride. I start off thinking I’m going in one direction and halfway through or after leaving and coming back to it, I begin making lots of turns! This piece is no different. What I have discovered is that God is going to show up in everything I write because my faith is a huge part of my journey of grief.  Trying to cram that into a two part blog was unrealistic. In other words, I should have come up with a different title for the last blog. So bear with me as I do some regrouping! 😉 . 
I lived through the worst day of my life. I didn’t see any way to possibly get through those first hours, days and weeks without praying to God and leaving everything in His hands. I cried out to Him. It was as if I was walking in slow motion, stunned and in shock. I turned everything over to Him and all that I did after that was directed by Him. The people who were taking care of us were called on by God to be there for us. Don’t ignore your call to be there for someone. It could be God telling you to go. Know that when you pray for others, your prayers are heard. They may not be answered as you wanted them to be answered but help is provided; strength is given. I believe that everyone who prayed and still prays for us has helped us on this journey through grief. We were blessed to have been surrounded by love then and now. We asked for mercy and we received grace beyond measure. 

I was fortunate enough to be the daughter of Lola and Aubrey and raised in a Christian home. The church was a large part of my life: Church, Sunday School, and Youth Ministries every Sunday, Choir Practice every Wednesday. My social life revolved around church activities, even roller skating and basketball was at our church gym. My dearest friendships were made there. Friends who drove for hours to be with us for Chris’s memorial service. Seeing them walk into the reception following the service was especially comforting and humbling. It’s actually one of the few moments I remember from that day. 
Chris Mayville was the best thing that ever happened to me. God sent him to me to teach me to truly love someone with all my heart and soul. Our children were precious gifts of that love. They taught us unconditional love, as the Father has for us. “It’s a love without end. A-men” I hope that those of you who are reading this know this kind of love. If you are struggling and suffering, please seek help. If you are grieving and depressed, seek help. Pray. Give your concerns and worries over to God. Have faith that things will get better. 

Chris and I met Rev. Jim Giddens when we attended Wesley Monumental UMC. We attended young couple gatherings at his home with his wife, Linda. When he moved to Skidaway Island UMC, we did, too. God put Jim Giddens in our lives for many reasons but certainly one was to be there for me the day Chris died. His words of comfort, peace and reality helped ground me. He’s the one who led me to Holland Morgan at Hospice Savannah for counseling. Holland Morgan was a God send. He truly helped save me from the depths of depression. He helped me put the pieces of my life back together. I had no idea that those services were available to me as Chris had not received hospice care.  Check out the services they offer in your area on their website. For those of you with children who are suffering the pain of loss, hospice has great opportunities for them. 
Psalm 107:28-30

Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble, And He brought them out of their distresses. He caused the storm to be still, So that the waves of the sea were hushed. Then they were glad because they were quiet, So He guided them to their desired haven.

I’ve heard when bad things happen, people will run to their faith or away from it. I ran to my faith, asking for strength and help from the moment Chris didn’t show up for dinner February 20, 2012 to this day.

God was there with Chris. God didn’t “let” Chris commit suicide. God gives us the power of free will. Chris made a choice. I still struggle with why he made this choice. I’m sure God was hurting because Chris was hurting, but I don’t believe He ever left him. I believe He was right there with him. I believe that He caught him when he fell and He held him. Then our merciful Father welcomed him home to his eternal peace.

Friends, family and strangers have said, “I don’t know how you’ve made it through this pain. Your strength is amazing.” My response to them is, ” I wouldn’t be able to make it without my faith in God. Your prayers also help me get through each day.” Trust me, I struggle every day. Every day, I miss him. Every day, I think of him. But, I can’t stay in that state of mind. I power through it but only after I’ve prayed for God to lead me and to give me the strength I need to go on. God is with me.
I want to share a dream I had about 10 months before Chris died. I was in the hospital with C-Diff. I was hoping that it was to be my last night. The dream went like this…

I was attending a teachers’ meeting in an auditorium. I was already seated. I heard some commotion and turned to see a very well-known teacher come walking in. She had quite a following of people with her. She came down the aisle and sat in the row of seats behind me in the auditorium. I was so excited when she spoke to me that I interrupted her to respond. The auditorium fell silent. 
She said, “Come sit by me” and I did, silently. I said nothing. She took my hand and then told me to go outside with her. She told me to follow her around this open space but she made me stand in front of her. I was confused and not sure how to do this.. In order to “follow her” I had to look over my shoulder. She told me to come walk beside her.

When we were together side by side, she asked, “Is this easier?”

I said, “Yes, much better!”. 

She said, “If you follow me, it will be even easier”. 

So, I joined the crowd behind her and felt great joy.

I came out of the auditorium laughing and talking with friends and as I turned a corner, Rev. Red Williams was standing there, lit up in a beautiful light. He had passed away and yet he was here. I had loved him so much. I spent many days and nights at his home because one of his daughters and I were friends.

“Rev. Williams, what are you doing here?” I reached up and touched his face.

 He said, “Yes, it’s me, Julie. I’ve been sent for a lesson. Your mother is working on it for me right now.” (My mother is a Sunday School teacher.) I began to cry. 
He said, “That’s it, just let go.” 

I reached up to hug him and said into his ear, “Do you know how much you meant to me? Do you know what an impact praying for others with your family in the evenings made on me?” 

He said, “yes”. 

At that time, I heard my name being called by the doctor. It was 6:00am and the doctor was there to tell me that I was going home.

To say this was a powerful dream is an understatement. Apparently, I needed to be reminded of several things before I went home. First was not forget how much easier life is if I follow God’s lead and walk in His path. I believe Rev. Williams was there to remind me of the power of prayer. I needed to pray for others because I had so many praying for me.
Fast forward ten months, Chris had committed suicide and I was heartbroken. I didn’t know what to do to survive and how to be there for others that were also suffering, like our children and parents.
I remembered this dream that first day and shared it with my minister when he arrived. Before he said what he thought it meant, he asked me what I thought. I told him that my deciphering of it led me to believe that God had been preparing me for this moment. He agreed. God gave me that dream to provide me with strength for trials ahead.

God was telling me how to survive this heartbreak and the journey of grief :

• Allow Him to lead me by faith
• Pray for myself and others

6 But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.   James 1:6. New International Version (NIV)

This is my first Father’s Day without my daddy. He passed away September 17th 2020 at the age of 90 and 7 months. He was an amazing man and father. He had the kindest, most gentle nature. I was a Daddy’s girl in the truest sense of the word. I miss him terribly but am thankful that he didn’t suffer with an extended illness. I wanted to marry a man with his spirit and was blessed to do so.

I originally wrote this several years ago about helping my children and others who had lost their fathers to cope with the day. Now, in addition to being conscious of my children tomorrow, I will also mourn the death of my father and try to honor him in some way during the day.

Do something to honor your father today; whether it’s sitting with your memories for a few minutes, visiting his favorite place, eating his favorite meal, eating at his favorite restaurant, lighting a candle, or visiting his burial site. There are many ways to celebrate his life today. Don’t focus on his absence. 

June 2012, the first Father’s Day following Chris’s death loomed ahead of me as a heavy dark cloud full of thunder and lightning. I was so scared for my children who were 15, 20, and 22. I wanted to protect them from that day. Could we escape it? Skip it? No, their friends talked about what they were doing with their families. The tv was full of commercials blasting out the perfect gift for dad. The stores had cards and special sections dedicated to gifts for every dad. No escaping, so now what?! I knew I needed to do something to honor their dad but didn’t know what it would be. I prayed for guidance. What would be best for us all?

When it became real that everyone was making plans to be at my parents’ beach house in Surfside Beach for Father’s Day weekend, I had to go into teacher, mother, leader mode, suck up my emotions, and do what I needed to do for my children. I decided that I’d prepare a small service for the five of us. 

We had some of Chris’s ashes placed in a small biodegradable box at the funeral home so that we could take them with us to the beach and scatter them. Our sweet chocolate lab, Maggie, died of a broken heart and old age two weeks after Chris died. We would release her ashes with Chris’s. It seemed only right. 

Initially our thoughts had been to do this from the end of the Surfside Beach Pier but the children had some concerns about that. I admit, so did I. The day before leaving, Meghan called and suggested that we do this at Belin Methodist Church which sits on Murrells Inlet. This is the church that we attended when we were there and also where we watched fireworks from on the 4th of July. It was a perfect solution to all of our concerns. Again, God’s hand is leading us where we need to go. High tide was at 7:30 AM Sunday morning, a beautiful and perfect time of day. So we had a date, a time and a location, now what would we do when we got there?!
I spent lots of time trying to figure out what was appropriate for us to do prior to sending both Chris and Maggie’s ashes out to sea. Several friends and family members said I was putting too much pressure on myself but I just knew something special had to be said and done as part of this event. So after lots of prayer and rewrites, this is how it went.

I purchased a bouquet of flowers, red roses, sunflowers, and white lilies and put them in a vase that I sat on the sea wall. I stood among the children at the wall beside the cross. 

I started by sharing the lyrics of the George Strait song, A Father’s Love. If you aren’t familiar with it, you need to google it and listen to it. The refrain is…
And he said, “Let me tell you a secret, about a fathers love – A secret that my daddy said was just between us – He said daddies don’t just love their children every now and then – It’s a love without end, amen, – it’s a love without end, amen 

I continued with my own thoughts, which may sound very familiar. I am struck by how much they are like the words I posted last week in my love story post! I promise I just found these papers today! 
We don’t have all of the answers to our questions, that is true, and for some we may not have the answers for until we reach heaven. So, for now we have to stay focused on what we do know. It’s important for us to remember the man your dad was, the father and husband he was. We mourn the loss of him. We miss his presence daily. But, he is at peace and with our heavenly Father who I know welcomed him to heaven with arms wide open and said, “Job well-done my child. Now rest”

I want to share with you the things I know:

God is with each of us. Chris is with each of us. Chris is at peace and rest without worry.

Chris was the love of my life, my best friend. Being married to him was an amazing adventure. We shared so much; my memories are as countless as the grains of sand on the beach.

I loved his kisses and hugs. I remember our first kiss and how it made me feel as if it happened yesterday. I had 28 years of those kisses and hugs and I’m thankful.

I loved snuggling with him on rainy weekend mornings. I loved holding his hand during the Lord’s Prayer at church, while walking on the beach or at the mall or even just sitting at home watching tv.

I loved the way he made me laugh. I miss his laugh. I miss him. My heart is broken.

I will never love that way again. I will always be Mrs. Christopher John Mayville. I will celebrate Chris’s life and our life together always. 

Chris was a good man with a kind and gentle spirit. He cared for other people. He didn’t like seeing people hurting. He helped those less fortunate than he was. He bought lunch for soldiers in uniform saying he hoped someone would do the same for his brother and later added his nephews.

Then I read a couple of Father’s Day cards that the children and I had given to him in years past. I won’t share the sentiments because they were personal to the children and I want to honor that. I’m so glad I saved them! 
I shared a poem that was sent to me by a dear friend shortly after Chris’s death called , “When Tomorrow Starts Without Me”.

Those we love are never really lost to us. We feel their love surround us wherever we may go; in words of wisdom spoken and memories that will never fail. Those we love are never really lost to us, for everywhere around us their love lives on. I know that each of us feel dad’s presence everywhere we go and in everything we do. He will always be with us.

God will watch over us and take care of us. His hand has been guiding us and those around us for four months now and even before the day Dad died. 

Chris, we leave a part of you here at the sea you loved so much. 

We released Maggie and Chris to the currents of the inlet. We each tossed two flowers into the Inlet. 

We ended by reciting the The Lord’s Prayer. 

May God continue to be with us on this journey.

A-men and A-men.

 We returned to the house and I presented each child with their very own treasure box- one of Chris’s many cigar boxes that contained mementoes that would be special to them from their dad. They all received coins from his coin collection and paper money from that collection. I gave them sharks teeth from his collection as well. Chris could find them by the dozen when the rest of us might find one! Then, I went through pictures and pulled my favorites of him with each of them. I gave them each a Stevie Ray Vaughn, Bob Dylan, and Bob Marley CD. I will never forget their faces as they received their boxes. They thought the cigar box was the treasure. They became little kids again as they went through their boxes. Pure love. 

I did it! I powered through the pain and heartache with lots of prayer and created a special day for our children. 
Today, as in the four years since that day, I know that each child will remember their dad in their own special way. I am thankful they had such an amazing father. 

The righteous who walks in his integrity– blessed are his children after him! [Proverbs 20:7 ESV]