Remembering Teddy and Welcoming Tootsie

Teddy was our little almost-3-year-old Yorkie.  He was always trying to run out of the house and tear across the neighbor’s yards to go bark at and play with the other dogs he would hear howling and yelping.   It was always the case that he would go up to some neighbor and befriend them, and they would call us to tell us they have him.  Or if we were quick enough, could catch up to him in the car and entice him to jump in (he loved riding in the car.)

But on one night in particular some weeks back, Teddy decided to run out when someone opened the door, and we never saw him again.  We went out to find him, but did not see him.  The fact that it was dark didn’t help.  So, we put up signs the next morning when it became apparent that he hadn’t followed his previous routines.  We got two calls – one from a woman who said she saw him around her garage door – and she shooed him away!

Note here:  If you see a harmless dog wandering around your house, PLEASE attempt to get a phone number from the collar and call the owners.  If this woman had called us the night Teddy ran out, he might still be here.

The second call was from a different neighbor telling me he saw Teddy, and that he had been run over and killed on the main road outside our subdivision. 

Everyone was upset.  I think (I know) I was more upset than the kids.  They took it great.  We talked to them about the possibility and almost certainty of animals being in heaven (even the possibility of them talking! – Read Randy Alcorn’s book, “Heaven”), they seemed ok about it.  I, on the other hand carried the dread of grief around for days, even now it saddens me – and I am sure it will for some time.  I picked him out from amongst several dogs at the breeder.  I fell in love with him first.  Poor Teddy.

So partly to help the kids get over Teddy and party because Linda wanted one for years, we got a new German Shepherd puppy.  She is now 14 weeks old now she’s over 2!,  and we named her Tootsie (thanks Cassie!) after her parent who were both named after chocolate. 

She’s a sweetheart and very loving and playful.   She’s now part of the family, and though we will never forget Teddy, we all go on and understand that life ebbs and flows, as do our riches, the weather, friends, the stock market… One thing that doesn’t change is family and the love we get from each other – how that helps us to get past obstacles and to grow and live with confidence and power in our lives.

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Remembering David Lo Piccolo

We just heard today that our long ago friend from New York has passed away.  He had been struggling with a rare disease that for 8 weeks kept him in and out of intensive care (mostly in), multiple surgeries, and LOTS of prayers for him and his family.

One of the hardest things to come to terms with, though, is his age.  Just 27 years old.  Dave was as youthful a 20-something as I’ll ever remember.  This picture was taken 7 years ago at the Creation East 2000 festival on a trip I chaperoned for our youth group.  But Dave was a chaperone too, you see – he was 20.

David played guitar with us on the church worship team.  I remember fondly the times we practiced together and worshipped our Lord with our music.  I remember Dave’s working at a local italian restaurant/pizza place.  Always a smile on his face, and a warm greeting on his lips.

My daughters liked him, thought he was cute.  My baby girl who was then about 6, used to draw pictures and give them to David after church.  He was an incredibly helpful young man, but modest as anyone could be.

One thing I know is that losing a child isn’t right.  There’s some unwritten law in the human makup that doesn’t allow for any kind of justification for the loss of a child.  Your child.  The one you cared for since birth, held closely, dreamed about and worried about and prayed for till you couldn’t pray any more. 

Even being born again followers of Jesus Christ and learned children of God’s Word, even the idea that God will be glorifed in his death doesn’t seem to fit or sit right.  I remember when we lost our baby girl Isabella when Linda was just 26 weeks along.  It hit us like a train.  And we are so thankful for all the love and caring people poured forth.  We couldn’t have made it without the love.  But it didn’t change the hurt.  It didn’t help the hurt.  It didn’t make any more sense because of the knowledge of God’s caring and provision for us.

But, and I am writing this specifically for Dave’s parents, Joe and Lynette, and his brother Brian and his family — He does get us through.  He does, dear Lo Piccolo family.  Believe it.  It’s like he is holding us in his arms.  Though we may not feel the comfort, we are being protected and cared for and….preserved.

The words of Natalie Grant’s ‘Held’:

..To think that providence would
Take a child from his mother while she prays
Is appalling…

Who told us we’d be rescued?
What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares?
We’re asking why this happens
To us who have died to live?
It’s unfair.

This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we’d be held…

Yes, we will survive.  YOU will survive this, and someday, you will think of David and smile a slight smile.  You’ll know where he is and that he’s waiting for you …… In paradise.

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