Shannon...

It is with a heavy heart that I find myself typing another blog about the death of a loved one. It seems like we were just beginning to find a way to put one foot in front of the other with the loss of Mary and now here we are, mourning Shannon. I don't have words for the heaviness of this grief. I just don't. And I'd decided that I wasn't going to write a blog about Shannon because it just seemed like too much- too much hurt, too much sorrow, way too much loss. But I can't sleep tonight because of these words I have within me and so here I am, spilling them onto the screen...

I imagine over the next few weeks Facebook will be overloaded with stories of who Shannon was, in fact the stories are coming already and it hasn't even been 24 hours since she died. There will be stories of her strength and courage, stories of how she cared for her family, stories of her commitment to the Watt's Powerhouse food bank, and stories of her faith. There will be the "big" Shannon stories, like how she bravely worked at LAX during those first days of 9/11 (Special Agent Kitten through and through), stories of her time in Hawaii with Erin, stories of how much she loved walking on the beach, or the marathons she ran. I've tried to figure out what my "big" Shannon story is and I find that I don't have a "big" story- just a quiet one. A simple memory that I will wrap carefully and place in my heart. A small story that will give me the courage to live a life as bravely as Shannon did.

Many, many moons ago I was working as the high school intern at St. Andrews. As part of my job I planned a "girl's retreat" weekend with my co-leader, Chelsea Hellinga. We planned a fun overnight at a fancy hotel and we were excited to spend some time with our small group girls, lounging by the pool and staying up late. One of the lovely ladies that went on the trip was Colleen Hamilton. We had a wonderful weekend and I didn't think much more of it until the next week.

The next week I was at the Hamilton's for dinner, they hosted us college kids weekly, feeding us and entertaining us with their banter. Shannon pulled me aside and said she wanted to thank me. I asked her what for and she said that Colleen had so much fun at the retreat and she was so glad. I told her she was more than welcome, and I figured that this was just another parent thanking her kid's youth leader for getting her out of the house and bringing her home in one piece. But Shannon grabbed my hand and looked me in the eyes and said, "No, thank you. Colleen has been feeling out of place at church. I feel like she's been drifting a bit and she needed this. I've been praying that Colleen would feel connected again." Then she gave me a big hug and sent me on my way.

Here's why that moment has always stuck with me. Shannon taught me something really important about being a parent that night. First, she taught me to know your kid. I was so shocked that Shannon was that tuned to what her daughter was feeling. She knew Colleen. She knew what her child needed. Shannon loved her children fiercely but beyond loving them, she KNEW them. She was committed to understanding who her children were and this small moment taught me how important that is. Finally, I'll never forget the fervor with which she spoke about praying for Colleen. It was clear that this wasn't some half-hearted prayer. These were "knock on the gates of heaven" prayers. Shannon was constantly lifting her family to the Lord, trusting him to cover what she couldn't.

Maybe tomorrow I'll think of a funnier Shannon story or a Shannon story that has some deep insight, but tonight I'm happy with my simple tale. I feel so honored that I got that five minute conversation with Shannon because it planted some very important seeds deep within me. I know that Shannon's legacy lives on in her children and her husband and even Rudy. But Shannon's legacy will also live on in me as I strive to listen and learn who the people around me are and as I do my own pounding on heaven's doors.